Ransom

I look over at Rosie, and yawn. "So, Rosie, did you bring all the mini-Montoyas with you...there were how many? Eight? Nine?" I walk over to Inigo and whisper in his ear, "You're in trouble now." Then glance back at the newcomer, while I reach in the bag by the bar. "Hey Rosie, here, have a cheesehead hat. It's what all the well-dressed Pub members are wearing this year."

With mixed emotons, Ioan had watched the Rakehell slip out of the Port Royal harbor. At one time, he'd been so sure the ship would eventually be his, that seeing it sail away leaving him behind, made him feel suddenly abandoned. It was crazy, concidering all that her captain had done to him in the last few days. But he'd like the men, even though he knew they didn't particularly like him. At least he could understand them, which is more than he could say for those he worked with now. Ever since the young maid had fled the ship, Captain Striker had been withdrawn. He barked orders, but for the most part stayed below, his injuries too sever to allow much activity. The ship had suffered only a few singed lines, but no real damage fromt the fire. Thankfully, that seemed to have run its course. Only a dim glow of embers in the darkness, and the smell of smoke lingered. Since it was not his watch, Ioan went below to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Yet the dark image of the Rakehell's canvass etched against the evening sky haunted his dreams.

Magic

Chai tea

Columbian coffee

Suddenly I laughed. "Trust? I assure you, Mr. Lambert, you and your...associates...have nothing to fear from me." I took the pouch and transferred it to my own coat. With a slight bow, I left Lambert and returned to the shore and Africa. Jumping into the boat, I snapped, "Get us out of here." Without word, Africa climbed aboard and picked up the oars. As he rowed, I sat in brooding silence. When we regained the Rakehell, and the boat was pulled up and secured on deck, I gave orders to make sail for Kingston. Once within the security of my cabin, I filled a fine silver cup with Port, settled back in my chair, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was only then that I remembered I had left Goose in Port Royal to guard the cannon. I shook my head and laughed. "When we don't come back tonight, the poor sod's going to think we've sailed for the Colonies without him."

"Kingston? Alright, but I want the provisions waiting in Kingston as well. Along with the payment in coin." I saw Sebastian dissappear into the darkness of the trees, then turned my attention back to Mr. Lambert. "Who am I to contact in Kingston, or will someone contact me?"

.....

I stood watching as Sebastian and Mr. Lambert stood off a ways and held conversation. Africa remained by the boat, holding her steady. The only sound was the surf rushing in, and with a hiss of sand, rushing out. I longed for the evening to end. I was used to dealing with louts and illiterate traders, or simply taking a ship by force. This battle of wits had left me with a headache and the desire for a strong drink. I saw Sebastian nod his head, so assumed the report of the cargo was confirmed. The only thing left would be the arrangments for transport, as kegs and crates of such weight could not be unloaded here. It was not Sebastian who approached me when their meeting was over. I was almost glad. I feared dancing with Sebastian would be like dancing with the devil. Besides, like so many before him, it was clear he had no interest in me, other than what my ship could provide. As Mr. Lambert came toward me, my face held no expression, and my voice was hard. "I take it all was as I promised?"

"I had no real fear of you cheating me, or announcing to the world our business arrangements. I am glad you know your place in the world. As for me, I have fought and earned my place. And there are things that knaw on everyone's souls, otherwise, you would not have had Killingsworth killed to atone for the death of your lover. I would advice you not to second guess either." I approached the dark horse, who turned its head to sniff my sleeve. "I do not desire to earn your disfavor, Sebastion. Our worlds may be different, but in many ways they are the same. We should be able to find neutral ground on which to stand. Besides, after tonight, we will probably never see each other again." The sound of oars in the water made me turn. Africa and the boat, along with Mr. Lambert, were only twenty yards off shore. I turned back to Sebastian. "It has been an interesting evening, has it not...Manouche?"

"As I said before, my father is an ignorant man. He misjudged many people. Including his own daughter."

And revealing?

"Ah, as to that last picture, you should know better than to take coin from a not-dead monkey. Welcome to the Pub. I'll have me usual, champagne with a tot of Tattoo. Cheers.

It seems that the priorities for going back differ a great deal. Those that look on it as a survivalist camp, and those who look on it as a chance to experience history up close and personal. The honest truth is, the past can't exist in the present, nor can the present exist in the past. Apples and oranges - try to mix them, and you end up with applesause that doesn't taste good.

Every day it might change. For the day a good friend died, I'd want them back, whole and healthy. For every war, I'd want peace. For every abandoned man, woman or child, I'd want shelter and safety and love. I'd want a world that doesn't trash itself with refuse - in water, land, or air. I'd want eveyone to experience true love at least once in their life. Every day the wishes would change, to be given to those who needed them.

I watched him walk away and remount the black horse. My confession had been misunderstood. I had hoped for something more, but what I wasn't exactly sure. I had thought...hoped...that for once I had found someone who did not require a sparrow. It appeared I was mistaken. I should have known better, and hard as any rap on the knuckles by tutor to remind me, it was a mistake that would not be repeated. So, with a hollow sense of something lost before it was found, I replied. "Don't you wish to wait for Mr. Lambert to return, before you agree to anything?"

I smile at Inigo. "You could always sell undead monkeys They seem to be pretty popular right now."

Mine is pretty straight foreward, and hasn't changed over the years. Fit body, flat stomach, hair a little long, low slung jeans, no shirt, bare feet. That sexy little V on a man's arm where the shoulder muscle (deltoid?) meets the bicep - yum. Height only an issue if he's shorter than me, 'cause I like to wear HIGH heels. And no perfume or aftershave that is so strong it fogs a mirror and gives me a headach. Tattoo's and piercing? ...if not done to excess. A nice celtic tribal armband around said V is pretty nice - but only if they have the arm for it. As far as another era of costume...Cavalier if not overly lacy. Of course, if he can ride a horse as well as Viggo Mortensen, that is a definate plus (I have two horses). Er, well, if he looks like Viggo as Strider, that's pretty nice too!

Would your thong have a little...er...big...skull and crossbones on it? Did I just type that!

I stood still for a moment, watching the Rakehell rock gently in the swells. I took a deep breath, lifted my chin, and turned to face him, my voice calm. "Ah, Sebastian, with that voice you could charm the very stars from the heavens, their brilliance blinding. But for one in my profession, especially for one of my sex, running blind is fatal. I have had men come courting who saw only my father's wealth, not me. I spent two years a prisoner on an Italian privateer, because my father did not think my ransom worth paying. I became a very good sailor, and I learned to deal with the lowliest of men. I have been beaten, shot at, stabbed, and taken against my will...but I have survived. My instincts have kept me alive. And my instincts tell me, Sir, that under the peacock's vain plumage you wear, there hides a deadly hawk. I would have you know...Manouche...I am not a sparrow of easy taking." I waited a beat, then said, "As to payment for the cargo, I would prefer two thirds in provisions and the other third in coin. There is also a very fine French cannon collecting dust in a stable by the docks. That is yours as well. Is this agreeable to you?"

His retreat was like a slap. Anger flared. It had been a game, after all. With no regard to the venom which tainted my voice, I replied. " Gold or goods. Your choice." I retreated to the shore, arms crossed, and waited for Africa to return our guest to his compatriots.

With his breath warm on my cheek, I replied, "I think elders only give such advice out of jealousy. We have what they are too timid to take or risk." I tilted my head a fraction. "Do you not agree...Manouche?"

I met the dark eyes and returned the smile. "Possibly, but am I not the very thing your people tell you to avoid?"

Every fiber in my being wanted to kiss that man. Common sense told me it would be a disaster. "You are the first I've met," I whispered. "I must go by your example, before I venture an opinion."

Terrible!