William Brand

If you are ever in Logan, I'll take you to a fine Italian place here in town and change your minds about gorganzola.

6 out of 10.

Ahhh...loyalty in life. Real and imagined.

Some excellent new additions to this thread. Very nice.

It's understandable that some events require fees for rentals, staff and other forms of support, but I've only ever been to PIP, and PIP is free. I pay for my travel to and from the fort of course. I pay for food and extra needs, but the camping and attendence end to end cost me nothing. In many ways I'm rewarded through trades with other re-enactors. I would probably still attend if fees were small, but everyone at the park is generous, recognizing the contributions we make to be there.

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog "Explained all to Captain Lasseter." William repeated slowly, and his face changed in a way that was not at all pleasant. "Miss McDonough." William said as he went out. His departure was sudden and absolute with no added warnings or revelations voiced. However, he did make a point of threatening, by way of instruction to John McGinty, any would-be-fool stupid enough to speak with Murin. "No one is to speak with the prisoner." "Aye, Sah." "Should I hear of any words shared, I shall for my part be most unsatisfied." "Aye, Sah." John agreed. "None shall speak ta her, Sah." "Thank you, Mister McGinty." William returned to the weatherdecks, where he found Richard Tollervy returned from his errands ashore, along with Christophe Lefevre, Thomas Crips and Alain Roux. Each man carried with him the evidence of their recent trip ashore. Thomas sported a fine fiddle; worn, well oiled and of a good make. Alain bore several parcels containing clothing and personal effects, along with a hammock. Monsieur Lefevre carried with him a dog-eared bible which had seen much use and would know more at this hands. And Richard, an accipitrary from another life, was bent over admiring three very fat pigeons and two large corvids housed in separate, poorly fashioned cages. "It pleases me to see my orders accomplished so absolutely." William said, his voice tired. "What have we found, Mister Tollervy." "Some good small birds, Captain...for messages if they can be made to do the work." Richard explained. "And some African birds which might be put to use." he said, pointing to the black and white ravens. Very good, Mister Tollervy." William agreed, and he smiled to see the familiar species. "Sah...?" "Yes, Mister Tollervy." "Might I have the carpenter make a proper place to keep the birds, Sah?" "Aye, Mister Tollervy. See to it that Mister Gree..." William began, but he was interrupted by the arrival of a letter which came by messenger to Paul Mooney at the gang plank and on upwards to William. "To your posts, Gentlemen." William said as he took the letter aside to read it at the taff trail. William noted that the letter was worn as if worried by long travel or fretful hands. He turned it over and was delighted to see that the paper was affixed with the familiar seal of the Chasse de Mer. William smiled as he broke the wax and opened it with a sense of familiarity that might have gone a long way to improving his mood, but for the contents. William was certain that the letter would cheer him up, but from the first sentence on he was mistaken. Every sentence was a blow, and like so many coffin nails, he tired as each one drove home. Afterwards, he stood some several minutes in silence, his eyes closed and his face turned to the sun. Jim Warren, noting that the heat of Sol did nothing to chase the shadow from William's face, made an effort to ask after him, but William gave the deck over to the Ship's Master and went below without another word. News of the death of Jean Micheale Fournier had finally arrived at William's door. Five bells of the Afternoon Watch

William asked no more questions of her regarding John Sterling. Whether he had come to a decision or not, he made no mention of it to her, but he lingered. This lingering lasted some time and this made for an uncomfortable scene. He seemed to be waiting for something more, but then quite suddenly he altered the course of the conversation. "Why is Miss Ashcombe in flight, and from whom?"

"Will John Sterling come against me and mine?"

Drat, the apples have gone bad...

Have you ever had a good gorganzola sauce over a prime cut of beef...?

Lady B. A singular woman, who by reputation has earned the constant accolades of friend and fellow pirate, as pronounced time and time again by men and women the world over. A very happy birthday, lass.

Also...beef with gorganzola sauce.

Today's special is blackberries. Oh yes.

No...your house, job, wife, friends, and crew are all in Florida. This explains why you don't live in California.

Welcome aboard, Miss Fearghaill.

Those are very nice. Would that I could afford them by the crate.

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog With two hours of the Afternoon Watch gone, William grew impatient. He had never had such a conversation as this. It was like reading the dialogue from two separate plays written by the same author. While they were similar in style, and seemed to approach the same subject at times, the content of Captain's dialogue was utterly different in plot than the Tailor's. "Allow me to present the whole weight of the matter to you, that the gravity of it might leave an impression more lasting than my opinion alone. We are at war with England. We are given a boon of France to live and to live well if such a life can be maintained. You have met with the enemy of France in France as it exists here in this latitude. Should the French learn of this, they will first ask me why you have done this. If I do not immediately betray you to them, they will ask me a question or more further as touching my part regarding the secret of this English interloper. This will in turn bring great danger to myself and some eight score men and women. If the French do not come, I will have to explain myself to the Whole Company, why I denied them the opportunity to take an English prize. This may spread mutinous thoughts where none existed before. I may, in the end, be trading one fragile alliance for another, because you, casually as you might think, spent the morning in the company of a harmless, old acquaintance." William paused, but it wasn't so much a pause as a purposeful silence of as much weight as the words. "I have preserved you in the fore lastage, unmolested, fed and kept. For this I have asked for silence, which takes ony the effort of not speaking. To this preservation I have added my own silence regarding your English friend. You have in turn answered my keeping with words too many, for any word was too many. The glass is not turned to mark the hour and you have spoken." William shook his head to think of himself explaining this, and was at a loss for further words. When words did come, they were brief. "I don't know what to do with you, Miss McDonough. You will tell me the name of the Captain, his ship and any other information that you can, for if I am to keep this secret, I will keep it all, not in portions."

It is an amazing book. Tracy got it for me awhile back, but I can't seem to fit it in to my schedule long enough to read it.

William received the letter again and read it aloud. He drew closer to Murin as he did so, careful to keep his voice low, though the cacophony of voices on the berth deck made this unnecessary. "Thank you for what you have done. I remain, always, your servant. If ever there is a need, whatever kind, you know where to find me." "Brevity in correspondence, to be sure." William remarked. "And cautious enough to leave the letter unadorned with monogram or signature." Murin said nothing to this, perhaps owing to her too many words from before. William folded the letter closed while looking at her. He passed the letter back again. "And where might you find him?"

August 4, 1704 - Fore lastage of the Watch Dog "Miss McDonough, the letter is addressed to you, is it not? I've done you the courtesy of delivering it unopened, but with almost everyone aboard the Watch Dog one might assume that your English friends have sent you this correspondence." William explained this very slowly and then he stood with his palms spread apart as if to say, 'Is this not so?'. "There is light enough to read by in this place."

Augst 4, 1704 - The fore lastage of the Watch Dog William considered several retorts to this most obvious answer, but felt that any of them would be utterly lost on Murin. His respect for the woman was declining by degrees, so much so, that his anger could not rest for trying to keep up. "The cats keep down the lurking enemies of the hold who would sink us. The boarders defend the Watch Dog unasked..." William said this as if to himself, and perhaps he did, not thinking the words would mean much in the present company. It was a kind of barb that he said it so, but he was past caring at the moment. Before, he would have defended her, and indeed had done so just moments prior as he glared coldly upon Mister Bly, but now they were the Captain and the prisoner again. William took out the letter with the unbroken seal upon it and passed it to Murin.

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog Ciaran went aloft and spied all the surroundings. While William waited for word from above, he surveyed the deck, and finding Miss Tribbiani attempting her place there, he sent Brenton Lund to fetch her back again to the surgery, adding his own look of sympathetic disapproval that she should think to labor after such an injury. After a time, Ciaran looked down from the height, having found nothing worth noting to the Captain. He said as much with a look and a nod to the Captain below. William was disappointed, but not surprised by this. It would have served little anyway, since William was of a mind not to pursue the matter beyond the confines of the Watch Dog. He scanned the docks one final time from his poor vantage point. Then, with nothing but the unopened letter available to him, he went below, but not before he fixed Nathan Bly with such a look that the man was lost for what to say or do. William left Nathan in this awkward limbo as he disappeared below the weather decks. The berth deck was crowded, not that it wasn't always such, but the milling of so many men as they stowed and secured supplies made the place seem all the smaller. So busy was the place that he travelled forward through the throng a third of the distance to the fore lastage before anyone noted his arrival. There were several quick nods, sharp salutes and a stumble or two as men became aware of him. Jacob Badger was in the midst of calling a few men aloft for the business of checking all the lines before departure, when William and he met among the men. "Has she spoken to anyone?" Jacob shook his head. "I've not heard her speak, but some 'ave spoken ta her." Jacob gave Jack a look, as was his way, but William seemed not to care about this. Instead, he went forward where John McGinty stood watch over the door. John snapped up his musket so suddenly, he might have struck the overhead beam. William was actually surprised that he didn't, and said as much. "What words has the prisoner shared with anyone?" William asked as a matter of course, for he expected to hear the words 'None, sah'. "Some Gaelic, Sah. Betwixt her and God, I expect." "Speak you Gaelic, Mister McGinty?" "None, Sah, but as I'm a sailor I know 'nough of it ta cuss, which...she also did, Sah." William smiled a little at this. "And no other words...? Then I..." "Beg pardon, Sah. She said that she were 'fine' to Mister Roberts and that 'the Cap'n had his reasons', Sah." William said nothing to this, for what had he to say, what with Murin able to hear all. Still, his mood darkened a little. "Open the door." John threw the bolt and stood aside as he went in. William closed the door slowly behind him as Murin stood up, this time careful not to strike her head overhead. "How is it you have tongue enough to disobey my order of silence, Miss McDonough?" he said flatly.

I had a root canal earlier today and now I feel like I'm at a Torquemada dentistry convention. CONFESS!

A very happy birthday, lass. May you have a good and merry day fraught o'er with unexpected gifts of large bills.

A better sailor I've not found. It has been a pleasure serving with you these few years and I hope for many more to come. Happy Birthday, lad.