Ransom

Loreena McKennett - The Book of Secrets Ah, Red Cat, I see your musical tastes run much the same as my own - in other words, I like just about anything, depending on what mood I'm in. Except for real twangy country - that makes my teeth hurt.

Since Professor Trilby had lived in Port Royal for some ten years, he knew what was coming. The first hurricane he'd lived through nearly destroyed his house, so he had a few improvements made. Heavy wooden storm shutters now blocked each window, held tight as locked gate with timbers in iron cradles. Both lower floor doors were similarly secured, as was the door to the roof terrace. This was meant to stave off looters as well as weather. He and Souris had taken everything off the floors and lower shelves, and placed them on tables or stacked them on the stairs, all in case water flooded the streets and invaded the house. Extra candles and lamb oil were gathered in the study, the most secure room, along with a supply of dried fruits and fish, and a quantity of fresh water. As the wind picked up and rattled the shutters, and thunder boomed and echoed, Trilby looked to the glass beaker and the little glass globes. Some nearly rested on the bottom, while the rest floated a bare inch above. Trilby shook his head. "This is nae gonna be pleasant."

Purveyor of rum! Well, in that case, I'll have me usual, a glass of French bubbly with a shot of Tattoo. Welcome to the Pub, Scarlet.

I smile at Rosie. "A for effort, Chica." I pop a mint in my mouth, chew it quick, then sneek up behind Jacky, give him a tickle. He jumps a little, turns around, and before he knows what's hit him, I return his kiss, my arms around his neck. "Come on, have another ale, Luv. I still have half a martini to finish."

"Oh come on, Luv. You know I'm just having a bit of fun, as you do yourself at times. And you're good for a great many things besides teasing, which you and I know. But, I admit, onion breath is just about as bad as ale breath. So, lucky for us, I have some mints in me coin purse here." I dig in my purse, shuffling past hankies, keys, compass, checkbook, Letter of Marque, lipstick, bosuns whistle, pens, and my good luck charm. "Here we are." I hold out a roll of peppermint, hoping Jacky will take one as a peace offering, 'cause I get the feeling he's a bit put out with me, and that always makes me sad.

Hang fire

Crossfire

I pop another pickled onion into my mouth and smile. "Yeah, I know, but it was kinda fun to tease her a little. Had to get back at her for that remark about fals...well, never mind. Pull up a chair. I always like your company, especially when I'm in a teasing mood." I take a tiny sip of my martini, which Ray has decorated with olives skewered on plastic cutlasses. Then I give Jacky a wicked little grin and hold up the remains of Red Cat's condiment. "Care for a pickled-onion poodle part?"

Ioan paced the deck of Striker's ship, eyeing the gathering darkness. With the captain on shore, no order had been given to ready the ship and leave the harbor. Ioan had survived a hurrican that hit Charles Town, and he had no deisre to be a sitting duck for another. He turned to one of the Danes, and between shouts, clipped words, and frantic hand gestures at the sky, Ioan attempted to get his point across. "We need to get out of the harbor! Find your bloody captain and get this ship away." The Dane flinched as a vicious crack of thunder exploded overhead. Then he barked orders to another, who rushed to the side and left the ship, running for town. With another look to the darkening heavens, Ioan cursed under his breath and hoped the La Maligna would escape the harbor before being smashed against the docks.

As the ship turned her prow toward the open ocean, I gave the shore one last look, and saw Sebastian's brief pause. A smile lifted the corners of my mouth. It was the last one I was to enjoy for the next two days.

I decided I've agrivated Rosie enough, and if looks could kill, I'd be six feet under right now. With a shrug, I walk to the bar, pick up one of Red Cat's condiment creations. Pulling a section off, I pop it in my mouth. "Ummm, not bad. I like pickled-onion poodles." Picking up another, I turn to Ray. "I think these would go very nicely with a gin martini, if you don't mind." He hands me the glass and I retreat to a table in the back to enjoy my cocktale and cat treats.

When I saw Sebastian urge his mount to the end of the pier I ran to the bow of the ship. Leaning over as far as I could, and cuping hands around my mouth, I shouted over the wind. "I can't stay any longer! I'm taking the Rakehell out to sea. If we survive the storm, I'll return here to Kingston and we'll complete our trade. Agreed?" Just as I finished, the anchor cleared the water, Jimmy, Tunny, and Africa straining at the capstan. Fat drops of rain smacked against the decks, and lightning danced across the Southern sky. It was a very bad time to be short two crew members.

Kayak (? )

"What? I think the red would go quite nicely with her black hair. Not to mention her hot temperment. And gold...coins or otherwise....always look nice against red." I turn to Rosie, who is glaring at me. "Come on Rosie, give it a try. Maybe one green pepper and one red. Then we can call you pepperonata...like that spicy dish the French love." Aside to Jacky, I whisper, "I don't think she's going for it."

As the wind picked up, I paced the deck. We had waited for half an hour, and still no one had turned up on the pier. At least, it would take hours to unload the cargo. I did not want the Rakehell trapped in Port Royal harbor with a gale building. Sheets snapped and whipped as the wind grew stronger. Whitecaps appeared on the incoming swells. To belie the early hour, the sky grew darker, rather than lighter. "We can no stay hear any longer, Captain," Africa pressed. "We be lucky ta beat da storm as it is." My fury matched that of the coming storm. With the holds heavy with cargo, the Rakehell would sit lower than usual. It might help, or it might hinder, there was no way of telling." "Blast the Devareaux's and all their secret sceaming. Why couldn't Sebastian inspect the blasted cargo while we were in Port Royal. Would have saved us a day, we'd be free and clear by now." I looked the sky again, trying to gage what time I had. By the looks of things, not much.

Morning

Once again the Rakehell rode at anchor, this time on the opposite side of the bay from Port Royal. It was barely past dawn, and all I could see on shore were mean huts and rooting pigs. A crooked, weathered pier, like a broken finger, thrust out from the beach. Africa stood at the rail, but his face was turned toward the open sea, not at the shore. I approached him and nodded. "Yes, I smell it too. Storm coming in. Let's hope Sebastian's men can unload before it hits. If they can't, then worse luck for them, for I'll not wait around. Be ready to hoist anchor and flee when the wind starts to pick up." He pointed to the Southern horizon. "Dem clouds laying low now, but I 'speck day comin' dis way soon. Half day, maybe bit more, but no less. You see da water? Da sea got dat dark angry look she get when she mad." I nodded again, then turned my attention toward the empty pier. "Where the bloody hell are they?"

Professor Trilby sat at the wooden dining table, eating the last of the grilled fish Souris had prepared. He was so tired, he could barely chew, but he was grateful he still had a roof over his head, since this night, many in town didn't. He and Souris had moped up the sloshed water from the floor and stairs, then cleaned away the debris from the rooftop terrace. To his surprise, the skeletal dog had survived, although its straw hat was ashes. With a sigh, he put down his fork, rose, and retreated to his study. Making himself comfortable in a padded velvet chair, he picked up the volume on Arabic Alchemy he'd been reading recently, flipped through its yellowed and foxed pages, to a particlular drawing, and studied it. Surrounding him were his many experiments, charts, chemicals, bottles of herbs, and scribbled notes. Taking a break from his reading, he pressed thumb and finger to bridge of nose, rubbed his smoke-irritated eyes, and glanced at a bookcase spilling over with papers and leather bound folios. On one shelf was an enclosed glass beaker filled with oil, in which floated tiny glass globes. With a sigh, he noticed that most of the little globes were floating at the bottom third of the beaker. "Just what we need," he muttered. "As if that blasted fire weren't bad enough." Wearily, he got to his feet and headed for the kitchen. "Souris, yea little devil. God's nae done with us yet, it seems. Better batten everything down, as it looks tae be we're due for a storm."

"Oh, sorry. They all look so alike, it's hard to keep track." Looks at the cheesehead hat, then back at Rosie. "You're right, cheese just isn't you. How about a red-hot pepper hat?"

It doesn't have to be a force 5 storm, maybe a 2...just enough to shake things up a bit, and force the ships to stand out of the harbor for a few days running ahead or behind the tempest - or finding a "hole." 'Course, it could rip off a few roofs, blow over some buildings, and fling chickens everywhere. (Please, no chicken jokes, I have a flock of my own, so have nothing against chickens personally)

Sorry, Captain, but , like that line from a movie.... "Yeah, right, like you blend."

Hmmm...let's see. We've had shootings, stabbings, poisonings, a wedding and a fire. What say we throw in a little weather? How about a hurricane? Isn't PR due for one soon?

cut-purse

..... "Sorry Ransom, had the thread been, 'Who would ye take to a tropical island fer a short trip?' Ye'd be first on my list; and we could both bring sun screen!" Guess I shoulda told ya, my Grandma taught me how to shoot a .22 when I was around seven. I have shot black powder weapons, and did bullseye at fifty yards the very first time I fired a musket. I still own a shotgun. I used to motorcycyle camp for years, so packing light is second nature, as is roughing it. No, I don't know how to sail, but I'm a real fast learner. But, if I had to pick who I'd take with me, I think it would be Patrick. He seems to have the game down pretty good, and I'd love to see the expressions on the faces of other pirates when they see his flag - still my favorite, BTW.