Ransom

You know, I was away from the Pub for two days, and was reading PR to catch up, and it struck me, as it has before, how well our characters interplay with each other. We all drift from one scene to another, one confrontation to another, one disaster to another, and it all works. I found myself wishing I had it in manuscript form, so I could plop down on the couch, my glass of wine to hand, and read our back story without having to sit at the computer. When I first started in PR I printed out the first two dozen pages, just so I could keep track of the players, but it was a tedious process and you end up with the Pub header on every page. It's a shame there isn't a way to download just the text, with avatars and signatures, print it out and put the pages in a ring binder. It would be so kewl to be able to flip back and read again some of my favorite parts. Ah well, just a random thought.

I enjoyed Trilby's needling, but also had one ear cocked, listening for Sebatian's return. I hoped he wouldn't sneek out, but wasn't sure if I'd gone a bit too far in my teasing. Maybe, as Trilby hinted, my effect on men wasn't the best. But then he was standing in the doorway, Cleopatra rubbing against his boot. Before Trilby could offer him a seat at the table, he spoke of a prior, forgotton engagement, and turned to go. I lept from my chair and caught up with him before he got to the front door. The expression in his dark eyes told me it was no time to make jests. Gently, I ran a finger along his bruised jawline. "Take care of what businss you must, but when it is done, we need to meet again. And I don't mean to arrange the unloading of the rest of your cargo, although that must be done soon, as I'm tired of my ship being a floating bomb." I smiled. "We have an interrupted dinner I would very much like to finish."

"Been to Havana lots of time, have you?" I narrowed a blue eye. "Funny how you never mentined that until now." I sat in the gently rocking boat, and thought about Jacky's proposal. I may not like it, but it made sense. If he wanted the Rakehell to play merchant schooner, I'd go along. It wouldn't be the first time she'd played the innocent, and for the moment, it beat smuggling rum into Boston, which was her usual order of business — not counting the occational side trip to do a bit of recreational plundering. "Alright, I'll follow your lead. Get me in and out of Havan safely, and I won't squawk at the manner of it." I leaned forward and placed a hand on his knee, my voice gentler than before. "Truely, Jacky, I hope you know what you're getting us all into. I don't want anything to happen to any of us, and I don't want to loose my ship," I smiled, "Or my very good friend."

Ioan saw the blow coming, but couldn't get around Jane fast enough to stop it. Without thinking, as she crumpled to the floor, he withdrew his pistol and pointed it at the big man's face. "It's takes a real dog of a man ta strike a woman. What'd she do, refuse ta bed you? Now stand off, or I swear I'll put a ball between your eyes." Without taking his attention, nor the point of his gun barrel, away from Jane's attacker, Ioan called to the boy she'd been sneeking from the inn. "Oi, son, take her by the arm and drag her out of here. On second thought, grab me that tankard." He pointed to one on a nearby table. The boy handed it over, and Ioan dumped its contents over Janes face. As she becan to sputter, he ordered the boy again. "Now, drag her out. As soon as you're outside, get her on her feet. Wait for me, and we'll get her back to the ship." The boy nodded, his eyes wide as saucers. He took hold of Jane's wrists and began to drag her across the floor toward the back door. Ioan stepped a bit closer to the big man, who shook with supressed fury. "As for you, I'd advise learning a few manners. Here is your first lesson." With the tankard still in his hand, Ioan smashed it into the side of the man's face, then kneed him in the groin. The man dropped like a felled oak. Without a backward glance, Ioan left the inn. He found Jane sitting up, the boy hovering over her. Shoving his pistol back in his belt, Ioan grabbed Jane under the armpits and hauled her to her feet. "Come on, Missy. Shore leave is over." With the boy on one side, and himself on the other, the two steered Jane back to the La Maligna.

Tea The wind blowing through the pine trees. There's a storm front moving in. Two of my five cats. Several people on the Pub.

Was nice to hear from the Royaliste, and that things are progressing, even if slowly. Just goes to show, you can't keep a good ship - nor her crew - down. Godspeed to all of them.

My smile changed to one quite different, and I brushed a stray lock of dark hair away from his bruised face. "Oh, be assured, I would love to leave them where they are, but I think now is not the time or place. But I would derive a great deal of pleasure out of helping you into the rest of your clothes. I'm an inexpert valet. You might have to instruct me on the proper maner of doing things." The grin was back. "And, alas," I sighed theatrically, "I am a slow learner. You might have to repeat the instructions several times, and let me practice until I am perfect." Behind me, Trilby let out a loud snort. "The man is perfectly capable of dressing himself. If yea was any decent sort of woman, yea'd hae shut the door the minute yea saw what state he was in." I never took my eyes away from Sebastian's. "Ah, but then, I never said I was a decent woman." Still addressing the Professor, I gave the breechless man in front of me a wink. "But you're right, I should leave him to get dressed on his own. After all, breakfast — or by this time of day, lunch — is no doubt getting cold." I will leave you, sir, and wait for you in the kitchen." I gave Sebastian a polite bow, and followed Trilby to the other room.

It kept getting funnier. His abortive attempt to cover himself and put on his shirt at the same time, had me chorteling again. When he sat down on the couch, I could stand it no longer. "Would you care for some assistance, sir? I would be more than happy to play the valet. Help you into your breeches, perhaps?"

For a moment, all I could do was stare in total disbelief. Sebastian stood stark naked in the middle of the room, boots in one hand, and white towel in the other. The bruise on his jaw had darkened, and his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, but his demeanor was haughty as ever. I tried, I really did try not to, but it was impossible, especially when he turned to retrieve his clothes and presented me with a picture of his beautiful stern. I laughed. I attempted to stifle it by putting my hands over my mouth, but it did no good. I laughed until tears coursed down my cheeks — but I did not budge from the doorway. This image of the Gypsy Prince I would remember for the rest of my life. "Disadvantage indeed, sir".... I choked..."But, a very...enjoyeable disadvantage, I must say"...more choking and wiping of eyes..."What in God's name?...deep breath..."What in God's name are you doing here?" Trilby stood behind me and remarked with a smirk, "Oh, it nae had anything tae do with the Lord Almighty. It were the almighty rum bottle that put him on mae doorstep before dawn this morning, drunk as a lord, and nae sae light on his feet." With a grin a mile wide, I contined to watch Sebastian attempt to salvage what was left of his dignity.

Goose glared at the interlopers in his galley, especially the pushy one who'd grabbed his spoon. Just who did the chit think she was, anyways? He'd been cooking stew for this crew for over three years now, and no one had died. 'Course, he didn't get many compliments neither. He sniffed. The bacon had him drooling, but he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and pretended he wasn't interested. When she wasn't looking, he dropped a bit of his mum's secret spice mix into the stew. A vapor smelling of dried seaweed and old socks wafted through the small galley. Goose crossed his arms over his scrawny chest and gave the blond-haired woman a smug grin. "Can't have fish stew without the proper flavorings, now can ya? Just goes ta show, ya don't know everythin' there is ta know 'bout cookery."

"Pah! Wallowing pigs on water. Yeah they have the cannon power, but we can sail rings around them, or fly before them and escape. It's the landing in Havana that I don't like. Trapped in a hostile harbor, if they sniff us out, we're shooting ducks. Is there no way to anchor in a more secluded bay, then go overland into Havana, arrange for the papers, and be gone?" I cocked an eye. "And just just what do you intend to tell the authorities in Havana our busines is? Two English ships in Spanish waters are going to look a bit...odd."

"Alright, if we must go to Havana, we must. But, what if the ships get seperated? Either by weather or attack, it could happen. Where do you want to meet back up? And how long do we wait for each other?"

"Havana? That's a bit risky, don't you think? The Spanish are thick as fleas on a dog there. Can't we get the papers somewhere a little safer?"

"Don't be an ass, Jacky. You've never called me captain before, why start now? I want to talk about this trip. I need to know what you've got in mind for this voyage, and what we should do if the ships become seperated. Do you have a rondevous point in mind? Sorry I'm rambling on so fast, but we don't have much time, and I'm a worrier." He didn't say anything at first, just listened to me. "It's not that I don't trust you, because I do. I just like to know the plan, if there is one. I mean besides tramping all over the Dry Tortugas looking for gold and magic water."

When I saw the jolly boat being rowed toward the Rakehell, I was relieved. I very much wanted one quick meeting with Jacky before we set sail. It would have to be quick, as the tide and wind were in our favor, so the ships would need to weigh anchor soon. When the jolly boat bumped along side, I climbed down to her and jumped in. Still holding onto the mooring line, I looked at Jacky. "Send Smith up to the deck. I want to talk in private."

With the note crumpled in my hand, I stood and addressed my first mate. "I need to go ashore again. I need to see if Trilby survived the storm, and I need to take care of"...I looked again at the note.."other things. If Sebastian sends a note concerning the exchange of cargo before I get back, send it to the Professor's house." I left the ship with haste, jogging through the busy streets of Port Royal until I arrived at the Professor's house. I noticed men working on the roof replacing tiles, but other than that, his place seemed to have survived the tempest with little damage. In some agitation, I pounded on the door, wishing to delay the other mission I would soon be forced to embark on. Souris opened the door and let me in, his eyes wide with surprise. Stepping into the foyer, I asked, "Where is the Professor? I need to speak—" As I passed an open door leading into another room, I stopped in my tracks. "Sebastian?" At that moment, Professor Trilby came from the kitchen. His grizzled face broke into a wide smile. "Ah, how fortuitous. Come, join us for breakfast. Let mae just lay down an extra plate."

Yeah, my husband likes marshmallows "aged." We did discover that, although they taste good, you can't make Rice Crispie treats with old ones, cause the marshmallow curdles! Makes a big gloppy mess that turns a pale yellow color. Not pretty.

Leather aye, that I can agree to, but can you actually still smell the horse scent? I can't any more...just so used to it... Oh yeah, I can still smell the horses. I might clarify that our "tack room" is the one in our four-horse trailer, so maybe it concintrates the smell more than a regular room for tack. But, I also love the sweaty smell horses get after being ridden, or playing out in the paddock during the summer. Guess ya gotta be a horse person to like that sort of thing.

Since I'd been up so late the previous night, I indulged myself by lingering over my breakfast tea. I had enjoyed Sebastian's company more than I was willing to admit, so wanted to savor the memories of that brief, quiet interlude, before tackling the tasks of the day. A knock on my cabin door made me look up. "Come in." Africa stepped into the small room, making it feel even smaller. "A message arrived fo' you." He held out a folded and sealed note. "Who delivered it?" I took the note with a flush of anticipation, thinking it was from Sebastian, letting me know when next we could meet. "Young boy brought it. I never see him befo'." I broke the seal without really looking at it, unfolded the note and read it. "Oh dear God!"

The excitment of a new adventure had me up before dawn, pacing the deck, and looking toward the Relentless. As soon as there was enough light, I had Africa send up a signal flag for the captains to meet. I needed to talk to Jacky, find out what our itinerary was, and make contingency plans if the ships got seperated. I wanted every avenue covered as well as could be, before I risked the Rakehell to this treasure hunt.

Jet fuel? Yer right, Cat, yer weird! Walking into a tack room and smelling leather and horse. Heaven!

Hummm...do I see a Pyracy Peeps club forming?...hummmm? If so, count me in! LOL

A most happy natal day to you, Billy Bones. 'Twas nice to make your aquaintance while in Portlandia. You are an impressive looking pyrate, that you are! Cheers BTW, I haven't heard the Barbarian Birthday Song since my old SCA days! Ah, what memories that song brings back!

Vanilla bean ice cream, with hot rum caramel sauce.

I lay in my hammock, listening to the creak of boards, and the slap of water against the hull. The small stern window was cracked open a bit, to let in a little of the night air. I thought of the coming voyage and what it might mean for all of us. Riches, or just a grand adventure? Who could tell? I thought of Jacky, and hoped he wasn't too angry over the Commodor joke, but it wasn't too often I got to tease him about something. If he knew me, and I think he did, then he'd know the trueth of it. With my eyelids growing heavy, I pulled the blanket closer to my chin, settled a bit, then let the night take me, trusting that Jacky would not knowingly lead us into danger — but ready, as always, to watch his back if danger reared its ugly head.