William Brand

The Making of Tawny: Part Five David-Tara saved some coin and even stole a little as he set out on his first errand of discovery into pleasures of the flesh and what he thought of as his search for private power. He took this gathered coin and found himself a girl. She was of similar age emotionally, but three years his senior. She was naive but ambitious enough to favor opportunity over the taboos of the day or the morality of the neighboring religions. When David-Tara approached her with his offer it seemed on the surface, practical, if not a little bit unusual. "Teach me the pleasures of the flesh." he had said, almost dispassionately and in a place public enough that she had laughed aloud, mostly from surprise before clapping a hand over her mouth. She alone had heard this proposition, but the laugh had drawn enough attention to propel her on to more private climes with David following after. When they were in a place more private, David-Tara proffered the money again and made the same direct request. It was as shocking a thing as she had ever known and in the end, it was the shock alone which swayed her when nothing else would have. They retired to a place of privacy suggested by him. It was one of three barns which bordered his father's widening estate. It was a lovely place in its decline, a barn used only for the storage of hay and often to the neglect of the hay and the barn itself. It had an earthy smell of decay and new growth. It was warmed enough on the sunny side to be comfortable, but chill enough within to remain starkly real. They stood in the open door of the place, not hand in hand as lovers, but side by side like siblings or strangers, and a long silence followed. She didn't know what to say to him and when the silence continued to linger, neither knowing what to do, David-Tara began to undress. The girl, her name never asked for nor given, was awakened to her situation, suspecting in that moment that she should not be paid for this secret act and even uncertain that she should be apart of it at all. David -Tara reassured her that the money was hers and more would be had in the future for the asking if she would remain available to him. It was neither a sweet nor tender reassurance, but it was more money than she might ever know and as his face and mannerisms were not unpleasant, she accepted. "I'm a virgin." she offered at the last, not knowing if it mattered or not to this alien boy, and wondered silently if she had said it as a defense against what was to come. He smiled a smile then that she couldn't understand, for while it appeared to be simple it crossed his face in a tremulous way that was unsettling. "Then I shall owe you more than I have brought with me." he returned, and he handed her all the coin he had. The next hour or more played out as any scene of young and awkward love might. David -Tara expressed seemingly genuine declarations about her beauty and the natural surprise about the nature of the delights found in the moment. For her part, she was swept away in the bizarre enchantment of that very strange afternoon. He took every touch as it was offered and gave as much as he received, anxious to know all at once. She found his passion and attention enthralling and couldn't be certain if she would have preferred the experience with or without the eminent payment to come. In the end it was all it might have been for any two young lovers. Months passed in this way, the two of them meeting in secret. The first few visits were wonderful, at least in her eyes, but they became strange and she found too soon that she was jealous of him for reasons she couldn't name. While she learned to need him and want him in a way that was very nearly love, he became quiet and distant both during and after every act. Unknown to her, David-Tara had moved beyond her almost at once, propositioning not one, but several more girls of various ages and descriptions. He was kind to some and indifferent to others. He travelled far afield, going on foot to places of a surprising distance, all for the sake of understanding. Each of them were somehow assured that they and they alone were the object of his strange affections and generous coffers. He took steps to make them believe so. David-Tara though of them as his own, almost like a harem of girls naive to all but him. Harem was not the word he used for them, and no word might correctly define how he thought of them, though the word cattle came disturbingly close. Playthings might also be applied to his concept of them, but even this word failed to meet the demands of his unusual perspective. Whatever they might be, they loved him each in their own way, never to know the same from him. Over time, the exchange of payment for intimacy ceased. During this time David-Tara practiced his lies and use of charms and language. He supplanted his gifts of gold with words and letters, bringing each girl to his will by the execution of elaborate lies. It was not enough that they loved him, he wanted to own them body and soul as his mother had owned him. It became such an obsession that even he was unaware of it, propelled by the miasma of his awful childhood. It might have been enough for him given time. He might have even moved beyond it all over the course of his life. There was a sad sort of cathartic escape in each rendezvous and given time, he would have been the better for it, thought at the expense of many. None of that mattered after the arrival of Christopher Daniels. Christopher was a nephew of Cormac. He was older than David-Tara by a year and almost a foot taller. Like David-Tara, Christopher was fair, but more than this, Christopher was as well made in person and appearance as David-Tara was broken. He was charming to a fault, though fault could not be applied to the genuine way he won people over. He had a knack for befriending both young and old around him, a gift which drew all to his favor. Not only was it a gravity unto itself, but Christopher's charm was completely free of guile or selfish compulsion. People just loved him at once. It was easy to love him. David-Tara hated him almost immediately. Christopher's parents had perished in a fire, leaving him an only child. Cormac took to him, both as a devoted father figure for his orphaned nephew, an arbiter of his nephew's smaller, but profound inheritance, but also because he found in Christopher those traits that his own son seemed to lack. Cormac loved the boy in the grief of sister and brother-in-laws death, as much as a father might a son, but more so. It was as if Cormac had returned to that pride and love he had known only for David when he was first born. David-Tara was not blind to this sudden gravitation, and while he had always been estranged to his father in many ways, it sparked a jealousy he couldn't give name to. It flared almost at once into a flame of white hot hatred. Within a few short weeks it ignited a fire within him that began to eclipse all else. It overshadowed his uncanny adventures into the countryside. Adventures that even Christopher and Cormac might have envied for their pleasure and easy acquirement. It eclipsed his waning interest in animal experiments and the functions of life and death. It utterly buried his fascination for his mother's escapades and made any affection with his willing consorts bitter. In short, it was a hatred which fed upon him, raised up from some dark, lonely place left over from his younger soul. If this were not enough, Aingeal had christopher too, but more for Cormac's love of him over her own son. She almost saw her work in David-Tara undone and decided there and then to reveal all. One night over dinner and in the company of many, she professed all of her misdeeds against their only child in the vain hope of wounding Cormac and humiliating him before others. The horrid revelations of David-Tara's upbringing brought into light without regard for David-Tara himself and in so naked a fashion destroyed any natural affection that had ever existed between Cormac and his son and upset the world David -Tara knew forever. Any pity that Cormac might have felt for his own son was lost in the fury at Aingeal for her actions, the embarrassment of the moment and the repulsion for what David-Tara had and might yet become. The sudden and utter betrayal of his mother and the emotional disinheritance of his father in that moment shattered all the fragile goodness that David-Tara had left in him. Added to this came the news that not one, but two of those lovely creatures he kept for himself were pregnant. He had escaped the nightmare of his home and family to find some comfort in the pleasure of his secret girls only to learn as he flew from one to another that each of them carried his child within them. He fled from the arms of the first only to be greeted by the same news in the arms of the second. One proud, horrifying announcement followed by a another. He was too shocked to seek out any of the others after for fear that all of them would be with child. His children. Perhaps his unnatural children. It was all too much. David-Tara broke.

Aye, stuffed french toast, fruit, ham and sausage links.

August 5, 1704 - Aboard a French bateau bound for shore William explained the matter of the found man to Miss Smith just before entering the small boat with her. He took his seat at the bow with a mix of dread, anticipation and urgency. Too many things were happening at once, not least among them the disappearance of his men, the flight of Den Oven and the Spanish merchant vessel which would soon be watching for their return. Tudor was quiet, and whether it was from similar thoughts or others, William could not tell. William would have found any conversation difficult anyway amidst his own distractions, his thoughts turning from what he knew to what he didn't and then traveling to absurd climes. "Mayhaps a Tawny sightin' sah?" Preston had suggested at the mention of the discovered man ashore. For himself, William had immediately thought of Joshua Wellings, so the idea that the man in question was their escaped English prisoner seemed preposterous at the time. Now, in the boat, he considered on the idea and wondered if the stars were not aligned against them in recent days. "Think you that Tawny could have survived his damaging departure from the 'Dog, Miss Smith?" William asked at once, bringing her from her thoughts. Her face changed more than once, but most of her expression was incredulous. "Treasure is a good shot and had the advantage of height...if not light." She shook her head for a moment. "I should think not, Sah. More than likely, this man is a stranger and of no importance to us and ours." She seemed finished on the matter, then added, "Of course, it might be..." "Wellings." William finished. "Aye, Sah." "But not Ajayi." William added. "No, Sah." They both had the same thought then. Had the beaten man been a dark man, the letter should have said such, so the matter of Ajayi's absence remained. "If it be Wellings, let the letter be...exaggerated." William said aloud, and she nodded, though neither of them set their hopes very high. "And if it be our prisoner of before, let his condition be whatever it may...that we might do with him as we may." "A cudgel and a shallow grave." Tudor said simply, and if it seemed like cold words coming from a woman, it didn't show in her face. William nodded, for there was a pragmatism in the death of mad dogs and nothing more was said on the matter. The conversation ended as quietly as the arrival on shore with nothing but splashes and the stowing of oars.

Emily Dickinson came to mind when I learned of your loss. Perhaps she is too remorse for this moment, but I find a kind of sad beauty in her work that expresses some of what I felt at the news. My condolences and my high hopes that all will be well with you and yours. Bereavement in their death to feel Whom We have never seen -- A Vital Kinsmanship import Our Soul and theirs -- between -- For Stranger -- Strangers do not mourn -- There be Immortal friends Whom Death see first -- 'tis news of this That paralyze Ourselves Who, vital only to Our Thought -- Such Presence bear away In dying -- 'tis as if Our Souls Absconded -- suddenly -- -Emily Dickinson

You must be eating very well to use the word 'again' when discussing meat of this kind. Now what to have for breakfast...?

Tonight's special is meat... You leave for a few days and the place becomes a morgue.

Undertow.

The Pirate Primer is a fun read, but it draws primarily on pop culture quotes. I recommend dictionaries like "1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue by Francis Grose" http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/5402 and the "Canting Dictionary of 1736" http://www.fromoldbooks.org/NathanBailey-C...nscription.html .

Happy Baconfest!

Bacon wrapped eggs with polenta...

Bacon wrapped scallops...

Bacon wrapped fillet mignon...

Bacon wrapped monk fish...for all my friends from PIP.

Today's special is Bacon, for reasons too obvious to point out.

Want it deleted...? It was deleted. Who dug it up again?

William shakes his head as he walks over to join Dorian's table.

Aye...

Well, well, well... ...it seems that we've been resurrected from the dead. We requested that this thread be deleted some time ago. Why has it been raised from the dust to wander the Earth seeking brains...?

William shakes his head ever so slowly as he takes the plate away.

A very happy birthday to my friend, Edward O'Keeffe. A fine fellow, remarkable carpenter and the most indignant pirate ever to be raised from the dead only to go storming about yelling for a hat. Raise a glass!

Now I'm craving spider rolls...

Welcome aboard. I wish I could say that I will be there personally to show you about the place, but I won't. That said, you won't find a better lot than those who attend. Every crew there brings something unique to the puzzle. You're sure to find several groups to choose from, but I suggest you meet them all and be certain to visit the beach encampments at night. Good song and good company in that lot.

The Making of Tawny: Part Four It would be pointless to describe the thousand odd and complex moments that made up the sum total of David-Tara. There are not words sufficient to define any given soul on Earth, but to define the boy outside the scope of even the strangest upbringing, borders on the impossible. Add to this the complexity of his own divided perceptions of life as we define it and one is faced with a monumental task. It therefore falls to this poor writer to pick but a few simple, albeit horribly complicated experiences from Tawny's life to illustrate both the paths he was shown and the paths that he chose. Now I caution you not to pity the creature too much, for despite the myriad of twisted moments, lies and misconceptions he was exposed to, in the end Tawny was a creature of choice, just like any other person. He was after all gifted with a remarkable intelligence and a natural curiosity. He was also of good carriage, well nourished and provided for better than most of his age during an age devoid of reason. His parents, though naive and morbidly distracted by personal dreams and pursuits, were not openly cruel, though they were certainly guilty of a pathetic ignorance regarding each other and their solitary offspring. No, Tawny was intelligent enough to escape the unnatural circumstances of his early years, or at least he might have been, but he chose the secretive strangeness of the one life and the open, but carefully crafted lie of the other. In short, Tawny decided to return the favor of his upbringing by becoming the monster he began to suspect he could be. Of course, this was not a choice made in a single moment. No, it was rather an evolution, much like his self discovery about his own confused sexuality. Indeed, this next step of evolution came as a result of this budding understanding of strong emotions and physical appetites and it began with his mother. She did not encourage such a step of change openly or by the steps of manipulation as she had done in his early years. Quite the opposite. To put it simply, she stopped holding their little sessions altogether, choosing instead to pursue an altogether different road for her revenge. She had an affair. Now she might have kept at the mad alteration of David-Tara, but it was taking too long and she grew impatient and a little bored. Also, she was uncertain that her efforts would or even could make a monster of the boy, so she simply set him aside in favor of something else. It didn't help that she was getting older and she feared aging almost as much as being treated as a second class citizen, so when the boy did not show the adequate promise of becoming strange she decided to fill her days with other activities, employing her time and wealth to court a young lover. At first, David-Tara was hurt by this abandonment. He was possessed of enough natural affections to be hurt, but being naturally curious, hurt soon turned him to action. Each time she pushed him away to his studies or some distraction that she might free herself to imbibe in secret pleasures, David-Tara would find ways to listen or peer in at keyholes. He soon learned the greater secrets of adult appetite better than most men might in a lifetime. It didn't help that she used the private, secret rooms once meant for her son's instruction to hide her new unfaithfulness. David-Tara, being apprised of all those rooms and their many secret nooks, would often hide in them in silence with rapt attention, learning more from his mother and her lover than she might have ever hoped to teach him in his more formative years. To put it plainly, she drowned him in more misconceptions about love, intimacy, lies, truth and appetite than he was prepared for, doing the damage in ignorance that she had hoped to do by choice. In those weeks and months the seed of Tawny was sewn. Added to this were the experiments he began to pursue on his own. To describe these morbid escapades I must first remind the reader of David-Tara's skewed innocence, for what might be seen as a kind of monstrous barbarism for a boy, was simply a callous kind of dispassion in the face of pursuit. That pursuit being understanding at all costs, or rather, understanding for understanding's sake without care for moral limitations or the second guessing of the naive. For example, David-Tara would often sneak dusty tomes from his Father's bookshelves. Tomes purchased more for status than education. David-Tara would seek out every scientific volume he could find, often borrowing illustrated texts containing dissections and exploded diagrams of anatomy. In an effort to understand more, and against the backdrop of his split perceptions, his pursuit became and obsession. Discontent to rely on the diagrams of published works, he would venture far afield on his Father's properties searching for carrion. While most young men of his day were content to poke a dead bird or an animal carcass crushed rudely under a passing cart, David-Tara would secret these remains away in order to pry them apart. When pickings proved scarce, he would wring the neck of a chicken or capture vermin to peel them to his purpose. He did not kill such animals with an air of cruelty. In fact he was almost dispassionate in his weekly slaughter, but slaughter he did, killing more animals to bend them inside out than any hunter might do for daily sustenance. David-Tara's need for sustenance was born of appetites more unnatural. Stranger still was his return to the path of self discovery as he returned to his own sexuality and even pondered on questions and actions that would make us turn in horror out of sheer reflex. He quite considered doing himself bodily harm, but only to know. He had to know. He was saved from this idea by another one, which came to him in a strange moment of clarity, if such a word can be attributed to him. One day he was standing in the yard when he chanced to witness a girl flirting with a man above her station and many years her senior. He couldn't imagine what an obvious, but poor beauty should see in a weathered and wrinkled old man. Perhaps it was something about the way the sun caught her hair and his jacket buttons, but he suddenly understood. Rather than perceiving it as wealth, or youth or appetite, he saw it for what it truly was. It was a kind of commerce. A trade of goods for power, subjugation or goals outside his immediate scope. David-Tara was giddy. He was not so very old that he should have understood the concept of give and take, of wealth and poverty, or of the currency of youth, but he did. He suddenly saw past the veneer of life's simple definitions. The young girl was poor, but of great beauty. She understand this asset as did the older man, who would raise her from the dirt, while lowering himself to baser desires and needs of his own. It was a kind of commerce of flesh, ambitions and secrets, but more than this it was a kind of harsh underlying truth. It was one more piece of the puzzle, and it opened David-Tara's eyes to possibilities he had not even considered. In that moment...in that awful epiphany...the first real seed of Tawny first took root and germinated. A bad seed in cruel soil destined to bear fruit unfit for human eyes.

The creaking of the ward room.

It's better then my canoe by a long shot.