William Brand

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Chatting in pyracy. Well...typing a post in this thread.

William walked about the quarterdeck for nearly an hour, enjoying his cane to the fullest. The quality of the two crafts that had come into play was well represented in the casting and carving of the Master Carpenter and Blacksmith. The height was perfect and the construction so solid that William thought he might use it as a weapon, if occasion permitted, especially the dog skull cast into the top. Rummy and Mister Hawks had married the two works into a fine piece, and even now that he was nearly beyond the need of it, he still found that he enjoyed it as an affectation. He laughed at the possibility that he could ever look the part of a "gentleman", though he had appreciated the respect of such a title and in a place where it had meant more so long ago. He walked the decks most of the night and into the morning as men and women drank, sang and danced on the gun deck. He was sure the sounds were carrying to the Danzig Trader and the Chasse de Mer with mixed and confusing results, but he didn't care. The crew deserved a chance to stretch weary legs in song and wash off the cares of loss. When they reached the Isles near St. Vincent or Margarita, they would surely make a good profit from those rare and precious goods gleaned from the Danzig. All was as well as could be expected. Rummy played. Christine sang. Women danced. Men tried to. The night slipped away into morning.

And may I recommend the Roast beef with baked potato and cheese over asparagus...

Aye.

William waited until the Doctor had greeted them and past before continuing his conversation with the Master At Arms. "I am well. Very well, despite the loss and revelations of the day. As you are improving, I should like you to return to duty, but only when our good doctor has given you her leave." He walked in the company of Mister St. Anthony until they had gained the gun deck, then he parted to the quarterdeck to take a look at the surrounding seas and to think on the morrow.

As darkness fell the sounds and smells of food being prepared in the galley drifted out onto the gun deck. The intoxicating blend of roasted chicken and pork was distracting to say the least. Faces that had been dour were awakened by promises of feasting and drinking. A levity spread throughout the ship that was refreshing. William searched out the Master Carpenter, wending his way through the ship and conversations of the night. He found her and the Blacksmith speaking on subjects of their respective crafts. "Rummy." William said, calling her from the conversation."I wonder if we might press you to play tonight. The lads and lasses need a dance I think." "Certainly." she returned. "I would be more than happy to." "Thank you, Rummy." William made his way back along the passages of the ship until he was at the galley. There he found Christine, along with several that she had recruited, hard at work in the preparation of food both simple and exotic. He smiled appreciatively, thanking them all for their labor and complimenting them on food not yet tasted. When he returned to the quarterdeck, he found Mister Badger there, Mister Lasseter having gone down for some rest before the festivities. The cutter was just returning at the starboard waist. He met Mister Warren there who presented him with a letter from Fournier. William read it once over and stood awhile in thought. Then he made his way to the surgery to pass the letter on to the Doctor. He almost bumped into Jack, whom he heard was now known as Mister St. Anthony. Still, he thought he might call him by the name he had known him by at least once more, given the casual air of the night. "Jack. How are you?"

Most of the people I know swear by mead. The viking water.

Ohhhh sure. Because Texas needs another faire when we only get the one. (Hangs head) I need a drink.

William stood at the table in the ward room puzzling over the contents of Van Buren's sea chest. One Doglock Pistol had been found previously and was sitting on the table next to several changes of men's clothing, a dutch bible, boots, dipper, dish, two bars of yellow soap, a jacket, an extra blanket and a pair of shears. "It adds up to nothing." William said aloud to the empty room. There was a knock at the door and Mister Lasseter's voice came through requesting entrance. When he entered the room, he handed over William's cutlass without delay or ceremony. William took it and looked at Mister Lasseter with some surprise. "Twas in the for'ard hold, Cap'n." Mister Lasseter said with a shrug. "The padre found it there, all wrapped and cozy." William turned it over a few times to see if any damage or use had come upon it in its absence. It looked no worse for wear. "Thank the Monsignor for me." William said, smiling. "You won't be offended if I wear this more often than the mortuary sword, will you? Now that I am Red Wake and not Hollande." "No, Cap'n. Ye can never have to many swords." William nodded. It was true. He had once owned seven at once. A ridiculous number aboard a ship, when one only needed one at a time, two if he could handle them. "Mister Lasseter, there is a bottle of Châteauneuf du Pape hidden in the galley cupboards. Have Mister Warren take it to Fournier with my compliments aboard the cutter, and ask him to ask Fournier if I might turn his dinner invitation into a midday meal tomorrow. He can expect a compliment of seven I should think." "Aye-aye Cap'n." "And Mister Lasseter, ask Mister Warren if he has a name for our new boat."

Mmmmm...Cuban.

"Aye, and tax collectors, my good Monsignor. And tax collectors."

William waited for the Monsignor to return to the Watch Dog after the service before asking Mister Lasseter to separate the two ships once again. He thanked the Monsignor, joining Mister Lasseter amidships. "The crew has labored enough today. Have the cook kill one of the pigs and a few chickens. And perhaps, while we are at rest, we might have some of the lads try a hand at fishing." It seemed a strange turn of subject after a funeral, but William explained. "We shall have a wake for Mister Sons come night fall. All hands are to be given rest, with the exception of the lookouts, who shall be relieved at regular intervals. We shall celebrate him in death as he was want to do in life. Eat, drink and be merry, gentleman."

"No speculations, Monsignor. Prepare to have services aboard the Watch Dog." William turns to Mister Lasseter. "Have Mister Badger take us closer to the Danzig, so that they might hear the service performed by the Monsignor, here. Keep the Van Buren body separate from the others. We'll have our own service for our people later. Send for me when you are ready to begin, Monsignor." William follows the chest bearers below to learn what he can from Van Buren's effects.

"Aye. Funny." William says without a trace of humor in his voice, bending to examine the face. It is Van Buren after a fashion. The face is grey and gastly, but the resemblance is there. "Bring Van Buren's personables and possibles to my cabin."

Mister Warren was proved a master of the cutter as he maneuvered the sleek craft away from the Danzig Trader. They were just reaching the Watch Dog when William ordered them on to the Chasse de Mer. As they approached, he was not surprised to find several officers, including Fournier, gathered with spyglasses at the rail. "Ahoy, Captain." William called out. "What news, Captain?" Fournier returned. "Four hands lost. Two of mine and two of the Danzig Trader." "My condolences, Captain." Mister Warren brought the cutter along side the Chasse de Mer, but did not slow the craft. The officers of the Chasse de Mer moved along the rail as it glided past. "Have any of mine come aboard there?" William asked. Fournier shook his head. "We've seen none and assisted none." "Thank you, Captain. I shall send some word presently." William said as the cutter was gliding away and back to the Watch Dog. "I have questions that I would ask of you." "We remain for the present." Fournier called back, the distance growing too great for conversation. William tipped his hat and settled down for the short, graceful trip back to the Watch Dog. It proved to be short indeed, for Mister Warren was getting a feel for her now and he brought the cutter up swiftly enough to make Mister Brisbane flinch a little at the bow. William went aboard, thanking the men for their respective duties. There he found a few men gathered again over the bodies. It seemed that the mystery of Van Buren had been discovered and yet remained even more mysterious for that discovery.

The Danzig Trader's crew searched their ship from one end to another, careful to move forward in every compartment, so that no one could get behind them again. When at last they reached the stern of the ship, they had discovered no sign of either Mister Sons or Mister Van Buren. This news was brought to Captain Brand with some reluctance, as the Danzig crew stole nervous glances at the waiting Watch Dog and the Chasse de Mer. William ignored this. If his own hospitality, albeit an expensive one, wasn't enough to assuage their fears, then he wasn't about to reassure them now. "Nothing." William said. "Very well." William was turning to leave when Mister Lenaerts posed a question that had been awhile in coming. "May I ask if Captain Scully...is...alive?" "He is our guest. We are adding humility to his many other favorable virtues." William didn't smile as he said this, but Mister Johnson might have, if only a little. "I cannot be sure if he will be returned to you. The price I have paid today in the loss of Mister Sons requires some compensation." William looked about to see if anyone was less than obliging in this matter, but no one seemed to be to unhappy with the prospect of never seeing Captain Scully again, not that William would have cared. "Vat is to become of us?" Mister Lenaerts asked. "I have to decide that before tomorrow. There are many ports, but only a few are favorable to your needs and mine." William turned away then in the company of Mister PEW and Mister Johnson, but before he descended from the rail, he added... "The Monsignor de la Vega will see to your men before they join the sea."

They went aboard the sleek cutter and were soon moving away at speed under sail. Mister Warren looked right at home aboard the trim vessel and he brought them to the Danzig with speed. "Permission to come aboard!" William called, and in short order, they were allowed to board the ship. They were greeted by the care worn Ship's Master, Thomas Lenaerts. He was flanked by a few of the marine officers and a small rabble of the Danzig's crew. "Captain Hollande." he said, presenting his hand. William took it before correcting him. "Brand is my name. William Brand." Mister Lenaerts seemed confused, and the name didn't register on his face. "I apologize. I was told..." "Rode Golven..." said a man at William's left. William turned a little toward the junior officer of marines who had interrupted the Ship's Master. The man seemed a little embarrassed by his over loud pronouncement. Others were translating to those not able to follow in English. As English was turned to Dutch, more faces began to stare. Lenaerts removed his hand almost at once, not from distaste or anger or even fear. It might have been instinct, but it was more than likely the look of the young officer and the blood draining from his features. "Aye." William said quietly, recognizing the Dutch version of his terrible nickname. Most of the men seemed not to understand, after all, it had been some eight years and many of them were young. Still, some of them seemed to grasp what the name meant almost at once. Others were beginning to as translation, as well as explaination, went about the gathering circle. William pressed on as if none of it mattered. "I am here for Mister Van Buren." A silence followed, except for a little translation that continued. Looks were exchanged between all and one nervous man gripped the basket of his sword entirely too tightly. William noted that Mister Johnson and Mister PEW took notice of the man enough that he let his hand fall away from the basket, too troubled by their threatening stares not to. "Mister Van Buren." William repeated, his tone losing some of its pleasantry. Lenaerts looked hesitant, but pressed forward just the same. "Ve have no such person. Ve have a Van Druyten and a Van..." "Van Eewijck." the junior officer finished. Lenaerts nodded. "Van Buren was one of mine." William began, not wanting to explain the rest, but doing so anyway. "I believe he came aboard your ship and slew Eynbrecht and Visser." This caused a stir stronger than the revelation of his name that built as the rest were made to understand. All of them looked surprised, thinking their own had been lost to the sea, not some treachery. Some looked angry at once, some stricken. The fact that Eynbrecht and Visser had been liked was reflected in every emotion shown. "I am sorry for your loss." "Bent u?" one man dared in Dutch, not knowing William's use of that language. "Ben I?" William looked the man straight in the eye. "Ja ben ik!" The man took one full step back. The officers and crew seemed to lessen their Dutch a bit. William would have continued on in Dutch, but thought it better to speak in a tongue where he knew all the words he wished to use. He waited a moment. Purposely waited. "I want this ship searched stem to stern." William looked about to see if any protest would come from the Danzig crew. "If Mister Van Buren is found aboard, I want him brought to me alive."

William's expression softened a little. "We might have opened a pub together were we not already men of the sea, Mister Lasseter. Who knows. We may yet." William walked quietly to the main mast and calling for a nail and mallet from Mister Hawks, he nailed the damning poster to it for all to see. He was certain that he would see it there eventually, and had even meant to hang one there himself, but occasion had never presented itself until now. He stepped away from the main mast, allowing anyone who might wish to, see it for what it was. "Lads and lasses, let it be 'Captain Brand' between us ever after this moment." He had meant to make a speech when the time had come to let them know who he was, but now that that time had come, he couldn't think of anything else to say. William returned the mallet to Mister Hawks and passing the Quartermaster to the rail he said. "Mind that they don't stand too long staring at the masthead. I will return shortly."

"Aye." was all that William managed. It seemed to answer everything the Quartermaster had said and asked. William stood with his hands behind his back, unmoving. He just stared at the Danzig Trader. Mister PEW looked almost animated by comparrison, though he moved little once his weapons were made ready. Mister Johnson was still in the act of fetching arms. "See that the bodies are wrapped and prepared for burial at my return, Mister Lasseter."

William called for the Samson crew so that he might go aboard the Danzig. He asked for Mister Johnson and Mister PEW to follow him with their pistols and swords. His face was calm, but his hand shook a little from the anger he was maintaining below the surface. He exchanged the baldric from Mister Lasseter for the wet parchment. As he shouldered the baldric, he watched Mister Lasseter's face as he read the printing there.

William hunched beside the three bodies. His face went as cold as their faces, blank and emotionless, but his eyes were alive with anger and surprise. Eynbrecht, Visser and a woman. He removed drew back the shirt of Mister Eynbrecht, revealing a deep gash most probably made with a sword or cutlass. The wound was viscious. He found the same injury elsewhere on Mister Visser. The woman seemed untouched by any injury other than drowning. All of them looked too young for death. Even the Bosun, who was at least twice the age of the others, looked too young here in the sunlight. William took out the parchment and stepped away to the railing to unfold it. He was not too surprised to find his own face staring back at him from an age worn printing from long ago, declaring that William Brand, also known as William Red Wake, was wanted in connection with several acts of pyracy. William tried not to crumple it up as anger knotted up in his stomach. "Mister Lasseter. Please bring me my pistol and mortuary sword."

When William and Mister Lasseter reach the deck, there are many crew members about and not a few of these are standing near the bodies of three Dutch sailors. William makes his was among the moving crew to see who they are.

"Thank you, Mister Youngblood. Please return to your duties." William nods to Ciaran and taking his hat from the table he turns to find Mister Lasseter entering the room clean shaven. William's eyebrows go up at once. "Mister Lasseter. I must say that I am surprised..." William leans in to scrutinize his upper lip. "Astonishing. It seems that I owe Mister Badger a drink. We thought never to see you parted from your mouth mane." William smiles a broad smile, trying not to and failing. "Join me on the quarterdeck, Mister Lasseter?"

Rather than wait for all to arrive, William deals with each officer in turn upon their arrival. "Ahh, Mister Youngblood. It may be too early to cover the ground on this subject, but it seems that you may be short two gunners due to the storm. I shall see what I can do to replace them when we reach port. How did the cannons fair the storm?"