William Brand

It's nothing really. Everyone should just eat crow and humble pie from time to time.

Today's special is Crow and Humble Pie with a side of Egg On My Face.

The forge is to be completed to your specifications, sir, and so I leave it in your capable hands. I shall leave the lads in your charge for just such a purpose and return to the ship, taking just two or three of them to haul out the required iron and tools. (William hand picks two workers and one of the horse drawn carts and returns to the Watch Dog.)

(William looks about and apears at a loss for words.) I suppose it is, sir, but no more than any fortress under construction, yet... (William continues to look around at an almost empty courtyard and the near completion of all the walls, earthen works and gate housing, then turns back smiling.) Actually, Mister Hawks, with the exception of the few pilings of lumber and stone for the smithy I'm not sure that I can agree. Is it the abscence of a finished forge that causes you to think so?

the midnight buffet is anything left over from every other buffet.

Now I really feel like travelling.

I feel like travelling.

(Jonathan and William make their way to the cove fort. There they find a half dozen sailors digging and setting embankments and doing the finishing work on the back ramparts. William shows Mister Hawks the Main entrance which lies at the end of an uphill rampart at a right angle to the wall makeing it impossible for an enemy to rush the gate head on and forcing them along the walls greatest length, thus rendering them vulnerable to attack from above. The gate is the span of three men standing side by side. The height is just sufficient for a cart horse, perhaps with a rider. Just inside the entrance the wall turns sharply left and on upward into the courtyard of the lower fort. Three earthen platforms rise up to a level just below the wall . These have the look of cannon ramparts. William points ouot the swing arms, fitted with old block and tackle stripped from the Watch Dog. These are to be used for hauling up powder and cannon. The tower that makes up part of the higher fort is large enough at its base to house both men and provisions.) As you can see, Mister Hawks, we need some nails, rings, staves, stakes, hinges, door handles and other materials to brace the gates, the swing arms and the tower doors. When that is done, and if you have a mind to, some of the water barrels need their hoops mending, but you can wait for that until long after the doors are set. Master Lasseter was very specific that the fort should be made secure first and foremost. We've brought up some pig iron from the docks and we've begun a makeshift smithy with forge and furnace. Tha lads became a little over anxious, so I made them cease any more work on s complete shop until we had you come and look the spot over. We've picked a spot away from the powder store but near enough the wood and water. The wind which comes off of this side of the fort at night and in the morning sends the smoke along the beach into the trees so that a signal of fire doesn't rise to much for peering distant eyes.

They need a key when they don't want me angry for shooting off the lock. (shakes head) and a side of beef wellington.

Mister Hawks, that will do fine. That is as good a piece of work as I have seen and I shall put it to good use straightway. I shall walk with you down to the fort and we shall see what needs ironwork done.

Aye, lass I have the ice cream, but I cannot host a banquet tonight. I'm running demo games at a store. You're welcome to have it here at the Kate. I'll leave a key to the larder and the wine hold.

Why does everyone wish to be kidnapped? Odd fad.

Hello, Siren. Let's see, I have the Beef Wellington served with Red Wine. Or in this case, White Milk.

Nice.

(examines the wheel and the tiller rigging. shakes head with a pleasing smile) The Star Chaser was a shincracker of the worst kind. I swore I'd never sail on the like again. We hit a rough sea off the Spanish Coast one afternoon and the tiller was apt to buck the bosun's mate overboard. I took his left on the wheel just as a wave spun the entire workings, wheel, capstan, tiller and all. She kicked me so hard across my knee that I was apt to faint and I went down like a drunkard in a fist fight. Two weeks on a bad leg. Aye. Two limping weeks.

In your condition a handsome carriage or a sedan chair seemed more appropriate, but we are pirates. Arrr. We'll deliver you there any way that you wish. You can kick and scream if you think you have a mind to do so.

Aye. That would be fine. I long to see her under sail so that we may judge what speed can be had of her. She has a fine line. (stops suddenly and turns to look at the wheelhousing) She isn't a shinkicker is she?

Well, we can deliver you to the ship hogtied, shackled or bagged up and in the belly of a spent watercask. We can send you in a caged cart or on foot and under arms. We could also have you drugged or drunk and slung unceremoniously over one shoulder.

Good morning, Mister Lasseter. (tips hat) Aye. It is going to be a hell and hades afternoon, that is for certain. I cannot express how glad I am that I have the water barrels over to the fort. We'll be dousing the lads to keep the flames off by midafternoon. (excepts the spades) Mister Hawks and I are beginning the frameworks and ironworks for the fortress gates and doors today. It should be a right smart little citadel by week's end.

We aim to please.

There you go, lass. And, aye. Diego is off vacationing. Which reminds me...I've been made the Master-at-Arms aboard the Watch Dog. Master Lasseter is in charge of the refitting of the ship as we speak and we are in dire need of more marines, deckhands, sailors and the like. You should join up following your recovery.

(William steps upon the quarter deck with a baldric over one shoulder and a coat over the other. He walks to the railing and stretches out all the settled sleep in his bones before audibly popping his neck. Then he fetches up some water from a bucket at the mizzenmast and douses his face and arms in cold water.) fffffwwwaaaaah! That's a cold good morning. (Then he waits upon the blacksmith to wake, so that he might show him down to the fort for measurements.)

I'm sending the surgeon a bottle of cognac. Aye.

Grits!

Mercenary, you can have whatever your heart desires, and if we don't have it, I'll run full sprint to the market to fetch it! Damn, but it is good to see you on your way to recovery. Far too many of my mates have succumbed to accidents, surgeries and maladies of late. Aye. Too many injuries! Now, let's find you the biggest glass of lemonade that I have.