William Brand

How to make the place more lively...hmmm...I could hide some assassins in a cupboard. I could pass out free drinks and cudgels at closing for a last man standing contest. Losers pay the tab. I could release monkeys. Starving, diseased monkeys.

I'm sorry if the place isn't violent enough.

Aye. Lets see which of these is the darker.

That's a great idea. I used to sharpen all the tools at the American West Heritage Center on a very similar rig. It was a great gig, because I was in the shade all day and I enjoyed the work.

We'll start off today's menu with a light salad.

Dust is a clock. We keep no other time in the Kate, but by dust and dirty plates. Now fetch a lamp and let us go into the holds and see what strange, distilled drinks are hiding in the corners among the stores.

Aye. Roast the thing. We'll rob the unkempt vines about the place and see what came up wild in the garden.

Business on the coast keeps his life full. New work and new environs. He'll be back. He likes a good drink.

The Lucy was starting to lay over hard to one side, so that the cascade which came in at the seam ran down the timbers, but still the carpenters worked. It was not the work that Alder preferred. It had none of the refinement he was gifted for, but he had another gift. Tenacity. Two of the sailors he had sent forward came up then with no news but the same. They began to report it even as he drowned, almost indifferent to his plight. They weren't of course, but there was a time and place for mere litany and Wenge explained this as he turned his head. Rather than gain any more breath, he used up what he had shouting, "Buckets and pumps! Damn you! Buckets and pumps!" He was not truly angry at either man. His temper was aimed more at the sea herself and the way she had shifted the responsibility of all life aboard from the Captain's shoulders to his. He took a breath and dived back into the task at hand. The task at all their hands. Outside the desperate confines of the holds things were just as lively. Barrels, cask, kegs, bales, livestock cages, spars, timbers, and everything else that might go over the side went over and down into waiting boats. The Watch Dog's longboat was filled at once, even as the jollywatt left the frigate's side trailing a second line. Rather than waste any open space for rowers, the longboat was filled throughout and the great cordage now strung between both ships served as a ferry line. Within moments of filling her up, eight men stood atop the laden boat and pulled upon the line, so that the small boat carried over the water with speed while a man kept her true at the tiller. The men were so avid at this business of ferrying goods, that they quite underestimated the momentum of all that mass, and were obliged to wound their hands a bit in slowing it down, lest they do harm to the smallboat, frigate and themselves. "Steady lads!" Jim called from amidships. "Quick care, but care."

I'll bring up the whole cask. We'll lay on a fire and roast something well fattened. Wait...that sounds like some sort of suicide pact.

Both. Maybe not both together, but you could certainly do both. Who turns down chocolate?

I can't believe I've been writing and archiving that long. A few short months of story in six years. Raise a glass.

I am well. I keep the place more as a mausoleum now. The grave memorial of two many fiddlers and finery to count. What will you have? All the kegs are aged some six months more since anyone last ordered a drink.

Mister Wenge did not reply, for he while he was standing upright, his face was still below water. The sea was drowning him on his feet as it rushed in upon a new fissure. John Black was next to him with his hands at the hole bracing who knew what while Caleb Millet stood bracing both men from behind. It was impossible to tell what the three men were doing together for the spray, but Mister Black was obliged to turn his head while Wenge held what little air he could while working. Millet had his back to the two and shouted, "Got it well 'n 'and, Sah!" "Well in hand…?" Preston began, but could say no more for the moment. Any onlooker would have thought that Millet and Black meant to plug the seam with the Master Carpenter. Liam Rowan and Steven Hudless came up then with so many tools, bits of canvas, old hemp, pins, boards and every other thing a man might need to do half a dozen things. "May I trouble you fer tha' mallet, sah?" John asked with enough politeness as to be ridiculous. The whole situation was the very fruit of peril summed up through the eyes of a calm and worthy sailor. "There's work 'ere", he added.

Five long years. Wow. It's like two tours as a whaler. Congratulations!

Excellent. How would you like to be listed?

Welcome aboard!

A very happy birthday, Patrick!

Excellent. We're looking at about a dozen tents total and Mad Pete is confirmed. The ranks are growing.

CAKE! I may have some period cake recipes if she's up for an experiment.

Beowoulf is confirmed! I have my flight info. Mad Pete is trying to get tickets. We'll need to start talking tents and food soon.

LILY! A very happy birthday!

I haven't been following this piece, so I was surprised to see so much of it completed. It's turning out fantastic.

Yes. You can grab on in so many places (i.e., chainwales, headtimbers, onboard stairway, shrouds, and any hanging line or timbers damaged in the battle itself)

It does and thank you. I missed it before. It's always refreshing to see pirates chasing profit that isn't all gold and silver ingots. Opportunists who know the market.