Ransom

"No, not bears. I think it was two cats!"

The rain had almost stopped as I followed the professor to some unkown destination. The street was a steaming miasma of animal dung, smelly bodies, and overripe fruit from vendor's stalls. I had removed my jacket and slung it over one arm, but my shirt clung like a bandage to my sweating body. I could only imagine the rivers the professor must be sweating under his heavy dark scholar's robe. As we passed the body of a bloated dead dog, whose rotting carcass added to the bloom in the air, I asked Professor Trilby, "How did you come in contact with this Andre' Devereaux?" Trilby gave me a sideway's look. "That's a bit of a long story. He finds cerain books for me...and other things." I thought back to the minor explosion that had taken place in his house on my first visit, and decided I probably didn't want to know what those "other things" were. "Tell me about Andre'." Trilby snorted. "Be just as easy tae describe smoke. No one kens anything about Andre' but his family." "Yet he deals in...commerce?" Trilby snorted again. "Yea could call it that. Let's just say, if he decides tae deal with yea, then it's better nae tae ask where the goods come from or who they go tae." We turned down a narrow side street, picked our way through garbage and two drunks, and emerged onto a wider main street. Trilby headed for a small, nondescript book shop, with living quarters, whose windows were draped with heavy red velvet, occuping the second floor. Trilby paused before opening the door. "Let me make the introductions. Andre' probably won't be here, but Mr. Stockton will let him know there is business tae conduct." I smiled. "Don't worry. I do know how to read. I'll pretend I'm in want of a copy of Samuel Peppy's diary." Trilby glared at me, then opened the door of the book shop.

It hadn't taken Ioan long to find out where the Lady Saint Claire was staying. Half the town had seen her running down the street, yelling for the guards. It was only when he was told why she ws yelling that his plans changed. If Killingsworth was dead, then he had no informaion to sell. He was already near the Shipp Tavern when it started to rain. He was about to duck into its smoky interior, when he noticed two men in matching military jackets climb up to a second story window and crawl through. Now why, he wondered, would someone need to sneak into their own room? Unless it wasn't their room. With a feral grin, he noted which window on the second floor it was, then entered the tavern. Although it would gain him no profit that he could see, Ioan was in a murderous mood, and the waves of pain radiating from his lacerated back only intensified those feelings. With a quick motion, he attracted the attention of the bar keep. "You might want to check the room third from the street. I saw two gentlemen sneaking in through a window. I don't think patrons usually use that mode of entry if they have a key." The bar keep eyed him a minute, then huffed. "As if the Shipp ain't had trouble enough, now I have thieves! Wally," the bar keep shouted at a man the size and build of an ox, who was gathering empty tankards left on tables. "Go up to the third room on the left and check it. If there be anyone there as shouldn't be, you know what to do." The ox named Wally grinned and headed for the stairs. Ioan bought himself an ale and retreated to an empty table, careful not to lean back against the chair. No reason he should be the only miserable person in the place. He hoped Wally knocked the thieves senseless. He drank down half his tankard, thinking about what he should do next. He needed a place to lay up for awhile, let his back heal, then make plans. He also needed more money. He'd had nothing but the clothes on his back when he'd escaped Charles Town and saught sanctuary on the Rakehell. But for a handful of coins, he had the same now he'd left it. He wondered if the Lady Saint Claire had any other jobs a man might do to earn a little of the shiny. He glanced toward the stairs, knowing the Lady's room was here at the Shipp—a somewhat surprising choice of inn, he thought, considering her lofty station. He gulped down the rest of the ale, stood, and made his way toward the stairs. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he thought.

OMG, I still have my Adam Ant cassett! When I bought it, back when he was popular, all my friends thought I was crazy, but I loved him! I'd watch MTV just to see his videos. Whatever happened to him?

Blind spot.

I drop to my chair in a huff. "Probably wouldn't work anyway. Some dog would dig up the parts, and we'd be back where we started." I give Siren a grin. "Oh well. Let's have a drink, then wait and see what happens next. But, I'm afraid we scared the Blond one off."

"So, it's match-maker you're playing at. Now, who would have thought? I think Striker can hold his own, so long as he doesn't pass out ahead of time. Besides, Silkie will keep an eye on him." Shifts the coat again. "I don't mind the aroma. It's kinda nice. And yes, I do have a bit of a temper, but it never lasts for long. And, as you're not a woman, you probably didn't notice that little challenge in Tess's voice. She knows exactly why the dessert ended up in her lap. I'm sure I'll get my payback soon enough." Takes a deep breath, enjoying the fresh smell of the water after the stuffy, booze-fumed air of the Pub. "So, where shall we walk?"

Shrugs at Siren and looks over at Jacky. "We were only trying to be friendly." Glares at Elvira. "Show a little respect for the lad. You'd no reason to pilfer that pint, having just drank your fill of Mary. That was pure malice, that was." I look over at Ray. "Hey, you have any wooden stakes behind the bar? Something with a nice pointy end on it?"

I pause, staring Jacky in the eyes. My first impulse is to hand the coat back and let him return to the card game. After all, gambling with Tess could be...interesting...depending on what you were gambling for. Then I remembered all the trouble he'd gone to over the fine dinner, the champagne, even music—and not just a fiddle and tin whistle. I adjust the heavy coat around my shoulders. It smells vaguely of tobacco smoke, boat tar, rum, and the open ocean. A small smile lifts the corners of my mouth. "Alright, we'll walk."

"Sorry. It's not my best virtue." "Guess I'll take that stroll on the pier now. If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, Lady." Standing, I give the group a polite bow, and retreat toward the door. It's a fine soft night, and I need the fresh air to clear the champagne from my head.

Thread needed a "bump". See added copywrite warning to readers on page one.

Any help the good Captain could give would be great. I know in theory, as soon as you create a character it is automatically copyrighted, but with so many hits on the Port Royal thread, I thought stating the obvious might be a good idea. After all, there be pirates in these waters!

I lean over to inspect Jacky's cards. Wtih a slight push of my elbow, I slide a full bowl of Creme Brulee off the table into Tess's lap. "Oh my, how stupid of me. And burnt creme is so ruinious to silk and satin." I smile sweetly at Miss Saint Claire. "May hap Ray has some club soda to wash that off with?" I turn back to Jacky and Striker. "So, who deals first?"

My first impulse was to laugh. "What in blazes could Gypsies want with a cannon?" Professor Trilby frowned. "Don't be sae thick-headed. They probably don't want the heavy beastie, but they will ken someone who does, even if all they want tae do is melt it down and make a life-times worth of sewing needles out of it." I cocked a brow. "And the gunpowder?" He tisked in exasperation. "Gunpowder can be used for all sorts of things besides blowing a hole in a ship. Use your noggin." "Alright, let's assume these Rom can help me. How do I contact them?" His blue eyes twinkled. "I think I can arrange something." Then the mirth changed to a thoughtful expression, and he let out a sigh. "If we're lucky we can deal with a man named Sabastian Devereaux. If we're nae sae lucky, we'll have tae deal with his older brother, Andre'." "What's wrong with dealing with Andre'?" "Dealing with Andre' is like making a pact with the devil." I gave Trilby a wicked grin. "Well, you recently referred to me as a she-devil. Sounds like Andre' and I will get along just fine." He gave me a long apraising look. "Sae yea might."

FYI I have posted a warning on the first page of the character bio thread, that all the characters are under copyright by those who have created them. I did this because you are all so good, and the story is becoming more and more complex. I didn't want anyone to "borrow" either our characters or plot ideas without asking us first. Just call me paranoid, but I got this idea from another thread and thought it might be a good idea for Port Royal.

"Well, whatever you do, don't take anything warm and red from Elvira. Nor don't offer her anything like either, or you'll end up with a couple of holes in your neck. She's the only accursed pirate around here. The rest of us are just pirates" Looks over at Siren. "So, what do you think of the newcomer? Bit raw in years, but not a bad lot. Could be fun." Turns back to blond-hair. "Are you as hard on furniture as you are on doors?"

Once again I sat in the shade of Professor Trilby's rooftop courtyard. Below, a street hawker cried out the excellent qualities of iron utensils, accompanied by the banging and rattling of the pots and pans on his cart. A dog barked, then gave a howling cry as someone kicked it. The scent of spices and the reek of the harbor filled the late afternoon air. Professor Trilby was still brooding over the news that his intended patient had been none other than Killingsworth. He'd railed and cursed me, then opened the bottle of Burgundy I'd brought. Half the bottle was now empty, and the cursing had stopped. "Sae, what do yea think has happened tae the man? Trilby grumbled. "Nae that I care overmuch." I moved away from the low wall that prevented accidental tumbling into the street below and returned to my chair. It was a curious affair of curlicues, griffin heads, and velvet. "I don't know, other than this Jack person said a woman named Tess would pay handsomely for his return. Do you know a Tess Saint Claire?" He made a great show of looking skyward, as if the heavens would unveil an answer. "Nae, I've never heard of the lass. Is it important tae yea?" I sipped the Burgundy. "The only thing important to me at this moment is getting my ship victualed and out of Port Royal. For that I need money. I have a cannon and powder sitting in a stable collecting dust, that would have gone to Morgan if anyone knew where the devil he was. In point of fact, I need someone who is willing to buy some goods without asking where those goods came from. Or someone willing to trade those goods for food and rum." His bushy red brows rose. "Ha, sae yea think I ken such?" I grinned. "Yes, I do." "And why would I tell the likes of you if I did?" He leaned forward, jabbing a stubby finger at me. "You're nae better than a thieving murderer yourself." "So is half the population of Port Royal. At least I'm honest about it—when it suits me." I leaned in to face him. "And don't tell me that a former Oxford Don is in Port Royal to teach the heathens Greek or Latin. You've something to hide, just like all the rest of us." That brought a roar from the irascible Scott. Then a laugh, that ended in a fit of caughing, which caused the turban to tumble from his head. He retrieved it from the tiles, refilled his glass with Burgundy and took a deep swallow. "I like yea, yea she-devil. I dinna ken why, but I do. Sae, it's connections yea be looking for, is it?" He winked. "How do yea feel about dealing with the Rom?" I sat up straighter in the throne-like chair. "Gypsies?" "Aye, Gypsies," he said, leaned back and finished off the Burgundy.

"That was an arse? Looked more like a shriveled prune to me." Hands a kerchief to Mary. "Here you go, luv, you're dripping all over the floor." Turns a stern eye on Elvira. "No more sipping from the help. Gives the place a bad name. You hungry, find a nice fat bilge rat to nibble on."

...didn't like what he saw, a vast and ancient power moving under the world around them, like muscles under the smooth skin of some slouching panther. Not God but something older, somthing colder. A glimpse of scales and feathers. ...Vellum by Hal Duncan

"I'll be happy t' chase ye up and down the pier later, and see if'n I can provoke ye!" "Hummm...a brisk stroll in the moonlight. A little slap and tickle? Oh, and, is it a full moon? That always brings out the bite in me. Especially after I've pigged out on Creme Brulee." I cock a perfect red brow at Jacky. "Unless, of course, you'd rather stay and play...cards...with Miss Saint Claire?"

Ioan hunched his way through the streets of Port Royal, his fury pushing him on. His back was a fire of pain and blood, but it only fueled his anger more. As far as he was concerned, his former bitch of a captain was a dead woman. It was only a matter of time. People stared and pointed at him, but he ignored them. Some laughed. He ignored them too. His goal was the Shipp Tavern and a lady named Tess. A lady willing to pay for information. Well, he was more than willing to sell. He knew who had taken Killingsworth. He'd watched from the hold as the man named Jack had thrown an unsuspecting Goose to the floor. He'd even given the intruder a wink of approval. Jack may have taken Killingsworth to this unknown lady Saint Claire, or he may not have. Ioan would know soon enough. Two things were upermost in his mind. Get some ready shiny, and do for the captain of the Rakehell. He swore on his own bleeding back that he'd have both soon.

I lay in my hammock, trying to get some much needed rest, while mulling over events. I was surprised at the crew's obvious enjoyment of Ioan's punishment. I knew the man was unpopular, but I had no idea how much so. Once he'd recovered a bit, I would dismiss him from his duties and order him off the ship. Then what? I needed to get out of Port Royal. I needed to get rid of that blasted cannon, and get the Rakehell out to sea. The coin I'd received for Killingsworth's jeweled snuff box had gone a fair way to paying off the merchants, but there was still not enough food for a long voyage, and there was definitely not enough rum. "Blast and damn Morgan," I muttered. "A fine cannon sitting on your doorstep, and you can't be bothered to even take a look at it." My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my cabin door. "Yes?" Africa stuck his head in. "He gone, Capain." I slipped out of the hammock. "When?" "Das a few minutes ago. As you order, I did no shoot him." Knowing Ioan was likely to jump ship, I had rescinded my previous order to shoot him, and instructed the crew to let him go. "Good riddance to him." Africa nodded. "He was bad fo' the ship, Captain. He always talkin' and stirin' up trouble. I be glad he gone. So be te others." "Yes, well he may be gone, but I doubt that's the end of the trouble he'll stir up. We need to get the Rakehell out of this God-awful harbor." I ran my fingers through my hair, pushing back the long ropes of curls, trying to decided what to do. I needed to talk to someone more familiar with the city than I was. Someone who might have connections the authorities didn't know about. "Africa, go down to the hold and bring up a bottle from my private stock. I have a bottle of Burgundy to deliver to a certain professor."

"Bite? I never bite—unless provoked of course." "My, this is becoming quite the party." I signal to Ray. "Better bring more champagne and a few bottles of rum, and..." Turns to the others. "What else do we need?" Turns to Jacky. "BTW, the Creme Brulee is wonderful. I'm going to have to run up and down the pier a few time to work all this food off."

God, he looks like he'd be better off in one of the Mummy movies. Then all he'd have to do is lay there.

My garden is pretty big 60' x 120', but it's been twelve years in the making. It used to be a low, boggy area between our driveway and the seasonal creek. Over a period of five years we added fill dirt, and all the "compost" we clean from the horse stalls over the winter. It also is fenced, so the deer can't get to the plants. Around the inside edges are perenials, herbs, and roses. The center is divided into four sections, where I grow tomatos, peppers, squash, cukes, basil, kale, and in winter, lettuce and spinach. In one section are two grape vines and a strawberry bed. Lots of work, but worth it when you start eating all that good stuff!