Ransom

I paused before going below. I couldn't decide if it was the appearance of the two strange riders, the coming meeting, or the contents of my ship, but a great uneasyness swept over me, stronger than anything before. I called out to Africa. He came away from sewing a patch in one of the sails, and in his low deep voice, ansered, "Yes, Captain?" "I couldn't do it before, due to the calm after the storm, but the wind is favorable now, so I want you to take the Rakehell away from the dock and stand her out in the bay." "You think trouble comin'?" "I'm not sure, just a feeling. I have a meeting this evening. If it goes bad, I may not return. If I haven't come back on board by midnight, then take the Rakehell out to sea, away from the God-forsaken port." "I go wid you to this meeting. No one dare harm you den." "No, I have to go alone. That was one of the conditions. If the meeting goes well, we get this blasted cargo off the ship and trade it for food and supplies. If it goes bad, well...just do as I ask, and get the Rakehell away from here." He nodded, then said, "If it go bad, I take the ship out to sea, but I come back in a week. Den we look for you." I smiled. "Alright, but before you return to Port Royal, dump that cargo over the side. Otherwise, this ship won't be safe." He gave me a slight nod, then turned to order the crew to set enough canvass to sail the ship far out in the bay.

After chastising my foolish excuse for a cook, I returned to the Rakehell. I attempted to rest for the evenings meeting, but was too tense to stay in my hammock. I removed myself to the deck and stood at the rail, wondering how the evening would go. I liked Trilby, but that did not mean I could trust him. And gypsies? I'd been schooled since childhood that they were a thieving, mysterious people, to be run off if they dared set up their wagons on my father's property. And here I was, a world away, setting myself up for any possible harm, with people I didn't know. As I let my gaze wander over the busy wharves, I saw two riders tarry, looking at the ships at anchor. Both were handsome, in a dark way, and sat their mounts with ease. I wondered who they were, and why they had come to the harbor. Then I smiled to myself. Bored, I thought, and come to see what new goods or chattals had arrived in port. Yet my gaze lingered on the darker of the two. I admired his air of confedence that hinted almost of arrogance. He reminded me of how long it had been since I had allowed myself the pleasure of a man's company. On board the Rakehell it was impossible and ill-advised. Ioan's advances had proven once again that most often they were after my ship, and had little regard for me. They expected weakness, and were unpleasantly surprized when they found none. I took one last look at the pair, then turned from the rail and returned to my cabin to dress for my evening appointment.

Ioan had the uncomfortable feeling he may have overstepped himself in mentioning Killingsworth's condition. He had the distinct impression Sterling didn't like or trust him. As the Captain's group left, he wondered if he should warn Captain Ransom that Sterling appeared to be a bit too interested in the Rakehell. Then he felt his back twinge, and changed his mind. No, he'd not help her, but he wouldn't go out of his way to betray her either. After all, there was nothing in it for him either way. But in all trueth, he'd enjoy seeing her put in her place for once. Maybe, if he stuck around this Striker, he'd get his wish. He glared at Roberts, who still sat at the table. "Well, it seems you'll make a bit of the shiny after all. You know, you'd have done better not to point that knife at me when you first came on the Rakehell. We might have been able to do business. But now, it seems this Killingsworth is causing everyone more grief than he's worth." He then turned to Captain Striker. "If you're ready to leave, sir, I'll help you back to your ship."

Ioan stared at the coin with longing, but knew it was not intended for him. And he didn't want the other man to have it. "Captain Stering, Killingsworth was the only guest on board the Rakehell. We picked him up off an islet out in the bay. He'd been beaten and branded in the chest. He was in no condition to go anywhere on his own."

Ioan snorted. "Hacked? More like sneeked in like a weasel. He offered me a bribe if I'd turn the man over to him. I refused and Captain Ransom played mum, for reasons of her own, and of which I'm not privy. T'were a fluke that got Killingsworth off the Rakehell, and me a flogging."

Ioan gave the guest a smirking smile. Maybe this will repay him for getting me flogged, he thought. When Mr. March clamped a hand on the man's shoulder, Ioan gave Jack a slight, mocking bow. "We meet again, Mr. Roberts."

Hurl

Jump

"Swimmin' in the inky deep has given me pause, but the shallows ain't as safe as they look. Love is the same, ye think if ye don't get in over yer head, yer safe; when nothin' can be further from the truth!" "Aye, this pirate has shed his share of salty tears over past and present love. But, in every love, a few tear drops must, and will, fall. This I've learned from experience." It's in the shallows where the rip-tide will get you, every time. Tears are lessons learned, and emotions felt. Both are a good thing.

Ioan watched as Sterling tried to take all the information in. The man was visibly shaken. A flicker of concern touched the eyes of the woman with him. Ioan looked away, scanning the room. He saw someone he knew, and smiled. He leaned in to the table, and, speaking in a whisper, said, "The man sitting at the table in the corner is the one who stole Killingsworth off the Rakehell. Mayhap he can tell you more about the mysterious St. Claire." Ioan gave a slight motion of his head to indicate the man in question.

Brrrrr!

Ioan had been surprized to see that Captain Sterling was not only alive, but the other half of this strange meeting. He met the Captain's eye briefly, then walked silently along as the party moved to a nearby inn. The whole set up made him uncomfortable, as if they were being stalked. Once inside the inn, Ioan had his second surprize when Killingsworth's name came up, and then that of Lady St. Claire. What a tight, nasty little world we live in, he thought. He listened as Striker informed Captain Sterling of the Lady St Claire's intentions, and wondered if his paltry bit of information would help the man reclaim his son. He owed these people no loyalty, but then, he detested people like Darnly, who thought they ruled the world and all in it. When there was a brief pause, as Sterling took in the implications of Striker's news, Ioan stepped forward a bit. "If you will excuse my boldness, I think I have other news that might be of interest. Be assured, Lady St. Claire is in Port Royal. Just before I made the aquaitance of the good Captain here," he touched Striker on the shoulder, "I had come from Lady St. Claire's rooms at the Shipp. She had just paid me in gold to recover Killingsworth's body, with the promise of more when I delivered the remains. I have no idea why she wants his carcass, but it's obviously important to her."

"I've been sew drunk... I was huggin' trees!" Jacky bows to Ransom's knack fer imaginative spellin' Imaginative? That's putting it politely. Usually it's referred to as piss-poor. Humm, sewing drunk. Would that be a zig-zag stitch?

Speaking from experience? I've noticed you've not said aught about yourself much.

I should post this with my signature. I can't spell worth beans! "Yer wrong, ye spelled 'worth beans' correct! I'm sure like me self, Mister Clemens would respect ye immensely, fer yer imaginative spellin' of many other words. Right on! or Write on! Yer choice." "Write drunk, edit sober."

I notice Jacky's worried expression. "You think there is a problem? Surely Striker doesn't need a body guard. He seems a man capable if defending himself."

Always good to see another lass find the Pub. Welcome.

"Who you are works just fine for me, luv.

So, yer idea of true luv, is t' find someone ye can drown wit'? Certainly puts a different spin on til' death do us part! - Jacky Umm... I think she might have meant drowning in a sea of love, not the salty stuff?

I should post this with my signature. I can't spell worth beans! :angry:

The offer came as a surprize, but he took it, having nothing else but his task for the haunty Lady Tess. "I accept your offer, but prefer not to sign any articles until you and I are better aquainted. I don't think my back could take another "falling out." Ioan winked at the lass. "Now, miss, if you'll excuse us, I'll get the Captain dressed."

Back...or reincarnated? Let's face it, dear man, you're dead, packed in a barrel, and probably on your way to some dive in Madacascar. Pity the poor tapster who breaches that keg.

Ioan stood in deep shadow and watched the young man enter and then depart Striker's cabin. The only thing he heard through the thick oak door was an Irish accent. Silently, Ioan followed the man up on deck, then watched him leave the ship. He didn't recognise the lad, but would remember him if he saw him again. "What a fine, cosmopolitan gent is this Striker," Ioan said in a whisper. "First it's Spaniards, now the Irish. Next thing I know, some fancy-pants Frenchy will be asking to come aboard." Ioan smiled to himself, then turned from the rail and headed back to the main cabin.

Before returning to the Rakehall, I made a side trip to the stable to check on the cannon. On entering, I was greeted by inquisitive pricked ears and a few nickers—and the sound of thunderous snoring. Goose lay recumbant on the wagon's driver's bench, sound asleep. The stableman was nowhere to be seen. Seething with fury, I quickly scanned the dust-mot filled expanse, stode to the nearest stall, and unhooked a half-full water bucket. The bay within the stall watched me with curiosity. I lugged the bucket to the wagon, and with a heave, flung its contents at my dreaming cook. Flopping and gasping for air like a landed fish, with a curse, Goose sat up. When he saw me, his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. "Sorry Captain, it were just a short kip." "Be glad all I could find was water. I would have preferred a slop bucket. And, where the devil is the stableman?" Goose wiped dripping water from his eyes, and shrugged. "He was here a bit ago." "Bloody hell," I muttered. I was thoroughly sick of this cannon, and would be glad to hand it over to the first fool who'd take it. I let an icy gaze freeze Goose into silence. "If you fall asleep again, I'll have you flogged, same count as Ioan. Understand!" Goose merely bobbed his head, to terrified to speak. As I left the stable, I decided the only reason I kept the poor stupid fool as a crew member, was pity. And that was wearing thin. The next time he burnt my supper, I'd toss his skinny carcass overboard.

After calmly watching Jane all but run off the ship, and Striker"s abrupt departure, I turn to Jacky, "Well, that was interesting, don't you think? Also a bit ungrateful, I'd say. If she continues to let whatever worm is eating away at her, she's going to go all hollow inside. A shame, really, as she seems a nice girl." I hold out my mug. "Yes, I'll have a bit more, thanks."