Capt. Sterling

"I shall do that Mr. Devaveraux! A very good night to you, Sir," Straw shouted back over shoulder as he crossed over to next street and then was gone.

Sgt. Clifton Sleigh... Curse of the Pink Panther

"And why sir," Straw continued with broad sweep of arm toward streets and alleys beyond. "Why should I be afeared to walk about? Tis a paper with something heavy betwixt the sheets, that I was asked to deliver. Far be it for me to pry into what it may contain or why it should be turned over at this hour. I be but a simple seaman, sir. I just do as I am told."

"Enlighten Mr. Devareaux?" Straw said, not the least bit aggitated. He stared blankly at other man, eyes blinking momentarily.

'Yourself personally like sir?" Straw asked, taken aback by the other man's offer. "Ah nay I think not. Just made a delivery to yonder bookstore. Now, I'll be making my way back to the ship." He doffed cocked hat and gave slight bow. "A good night to you sir," Straw added and continued on his way.

^ Hmmm why not both? (event fever...I like that. Will be pirating that phrase!) < I love my job, I hate my job, I love my job, I hate my job.... V what have you been yearning for lately?

Straw turned about and stared into the shadows. "Well ahoy there Mr. Devareaux. I remember you from the wedding! How are ye sir?"

Take a vacation, how about attending PiP, and spend some time looking around, a place to live, check out the jobs available, ect., this will give you some ideas about how much you might need to be putting aside and where and how you would like to settle

^ I'm terrible at sound effects..snigger < Two you say? Sounds like you are doing a fine job of it! Keep up the good work! And travel, the more the better says I. < Do you think there is an age limit to bringing little ones to events? (personally I don't)

Well you already have Mistress Diamond and Chole upon yer list do ye not? Rats, myself, the two middies, are a certain. I would put Maddogg, Billie and the carpenter down as well and I will let you know otherwise if their plans change. Hmmm, camp? We can do either, if you like. Could we be doing a hanging there or would the "natives" go beserk?

Reiley gathered gear together hastily. Leaving instructions and laudenum behind for other patient, who remained secluded, locked away in quarters, he made his way from ship to shore and followed after Captain MaCraige.

Welcome to the pub!

^ hmmm what isn't long distance for me? < Nice to be able to stay home with the little one! V if you have kids, public, private or home school em?

March and Skittles have already sent word that they cannot make it this year... but there be you, Maddogg, possibly Billie, the two midshipmen, Mary Diamond and myself... and possibly the carpenter...trying to talk Cheeks out of you know what... so maybe she'll show... we shall see...

^ No and don't plan to either <WHAT A WEEK!! In the middle of two major fist fights.. one last night between the boys and today with the girls... and these are just fifth graders!! Problem is most of them are left behinds and as big as me... so when is Saturday???? Not to mention another bomb threat V Do you love your job?

Papers had been turned over to Bookstore occupant with instructions that they must be delivered to Mistress of clan as soon as possible. Straw was guaranteed that all would be seen to and with all due speed. He watched as paper and silver piece within was withdrawn and for a brief second he wished he could take them back. But captain had been adamant about proceeding with annulment and nothing Straw said could convince him otherwise. Now it was done and Straw with tug of forelock, turned and began his walk back to the ship.

"GET OUT!!" "John, keep yer voice down please! Or all will be for naught!" "DAMNATION!! I SAID GET OUT!!" March cringed inwardly as the scenario again played itself out in his mind as he entered the captain's quarters. Same thoughts had occurred again and again since the first officer watched Mistress Sterling ride away from home's window. He had believed that the captain's foul humor, as news unfolded, would be their undoing as his voice echoed about the ship and silent port. And he had considered several ways of fighting the din. As he closed the cabin door behind him, he found the captain propped up in the new bunk, cleaned and dressed for bed. Symms stood besides him, holding meal consisting of simple broth. With only raise of hand, meal was ordered aside enabling Sterling to give full attention to what friend had to convey. March was prepared for the outburst, but such never came. Instead as lieutenant made his report, Sterling fell as uncommonly quiet as the night about them. And yet, mask never slipped into place. Illness had ravaged facial expression far less than effect of news. Slowly, head was turned toward hull of ship and away from watching eyes. All else was quickly forgotten, including soup which remained idly by in steward's grasp. "Send Mr. Straw to me." Sterling requested, voice but monotone whisper. "John…" March said, daring to step closer. But good eye closed and head lowered with a slight shake of negation. "Get out," came simple, nearly silent, reply.

March continued vigilant gaze along docks. Soldiers had been posted at wharf’s end and city band had joined in wandering the streets. Most trusted of men were placed on Archangel’s watch and gangplank was withdrawn so only contact from ship to town remained solely with mooring lines. First officer did not care to find out more information regarding the woman who had been assaulted…knowing all too well the cause of the overseer’s demise worried him enough that he might ask the wrong person. No one would set foot ashore again, except when necessary for making sail to England and surely anything regarding that could easily wait for the approaching morn. Poor wife had finally cried herself to sleep and March did not wish to disturb her until he could do so with better news. So he had chosen instead to linger on watch for the rest of the evening. As ghostly silence continued to hang over Archangel, he felt it time to finally relax and breathed the night air deeply. Pipe was freed from hat band and packed with sweet smelling Scottish blend. As he began to enjoy his smoke, Reiley exited from captain’s cabin. Doctor made bee line for first officer and joined him at ship’s railing. March nodded his hello then rested upon elbows, pipe gripped between teeth as smoke continued subtle upward drift. “And?” March said softly. “Awake,” Reiley answered. “Not feeling well. I would like to try and keep him from the laudanum for a few days… it won’t be easy I fear.” “Tell him did ye?” March asked, relieved to hear doctor’s news. “Aye. He does not remember anything especially about the ride to the house. For a moment he seemed almost amused by my little ploy,” Reiley added, allowing himself a small grin. “But he is none too pleased by what he has done.” “And how did he react to what she has done?” March continued. “She?” Reiley asked, the word sticking in his throat. “Ye told him did ye not?” March said, gaining full height. “I thought you said you would see to that?” Reiley said, reminding first officer of earlier discussion. March drew as deeply on pipe as he had only minutes ago on sea air. “All right then. Best he hears it from a friend any way.”

“Back to work lads,” March said addressing the knot of crewmen that had assembled outside the captain’s quarters. “There still be much to do before we can bring the Captain back home to his daughter. Certain I am that we will be receiving permission to sail as soon as the Harbourmaster knows we have a sad journey ahead of us and not a thing to hide. And know now that the captain has made arrangements to keep the Angel afloat and in working order, so ye no be needing to be afraid fer yer livelihoods.” March stood his ground and answered yet more questions from loyal crew until shout went up from larboard. He joined fellow sailor at railing, watching the Rakehell try and make a break for open sea. “Foolish,” he grumbled under his breath as he looked at closest fort. A blaze with beacon’s fires, Fort James was already on guard and ready to strike. If indeed Rakehell could make it past without wind to aid her, Fort Charles was next in line to fight. Until the time was right and clearance to sail was granted, the Archangel would sit and wait. Just to keep captain under wraps until then. Sterling had been carried to rest within quarters. Due to captain’s illness, ship’s carpenter and his small crew had constructed new bunk to ease any discomforts at March‘s orders. Body now stretched out upon finished product, brandy cask nearby in case ruse needed to progress to most desperate of measures. Reiley and old steward were also locked within as doctor began to bring patient back to the living.

More soldiers were passed en route to Archangel, who remained still moored to far end of wharf. Docks were patrolled as well and as wagon came to halt within walking distance to ship another interrogation commenced. March was patient as more questions were thrown at him but Dubois, already concerned for riding the extra distance gave lingering glance to Le Cour companion. But grim curiosity had gained upper hand where Irishman was concerned, and Devon Burke continued to stare at covered remains within wagon bed. “What is it ami?” Dubois asked as last question was fired at ship’s officer. Burke accomplished double take in partner’s direction. “What?” he whispered. But his attention was quickly returned and riveted to the scene that now played out before him. As soldiers finally departed, March climbed down from wagon’s perch. As the officer made his way to ship’s entry way, small snottie, recognized as one responsible for destroying bookstore’s window, slowly made his way across the gangplank. Burke could tell the young boy had been crying and now, even in dim light of lanterns burning, the lad looked pale and forlorn as he greeted his superior. Child’s eyes darted from March to bundle in back of wagon and back to face that towered over him. Only nod could be mustered in response to new orders and then the lad hurriedly made his way back to the brigantine. In a moment he returned followed by five seamen and Matthew Hazzards, sober in visage, appeared above at ship’s railing. Already black weepers were affixed to second lieutenant’s hat. A numbing silence fell over the great ship, as men on duty belayed their actions, tasks coming quietly to a halt, as five plus closest friend, claimed body from the cart and solemnly carried it home. Bosun’s mate brought whistle to lips as all crewmen watched, and all, save three, believed in their hearts that their captain was being piped aboard for the last time. Doctor Reiley waited until a sixth man came to relieve him of horse and cart. Then bidding Dubois and Burke farewell, followed slowly after the others. “Let us go,” Dubois said. “There is nothing left for us to see here.” He turned his own mount about and trotted off. Burke looked to companion, then cast one last glance at mournful ship, and others that had roamed the docks now to stand in respectful poses. Mind filled with thoughts of times he had made fun of Englishman, behind his back as well as to his face. Short hairs on far side of neck bristled, shiver along spine causing goose bumps to alight on fair Irish skin as Devon Burke hastily turned to follow after his own. He dared not ride back to Cottage in the dark, alone.

Ride continued onward without further delays. It was hours before boundary of town was crossed and, as if it had be previously arranged and agreed upon, entire Port town's normal chaos of wee hours had ceased all together. Replacing usual disturbances was an uncanny silence, blanketing the full area like a thick fog on a marshy coast. Even Le Cour’s duo cast questioning glances about as only sound of Chestnut’s iron shod feet echoed eerily from cobblestoned streets. Instead of breaking off as instructed and returning straight way to cottage, Dubois and Burke allowed horses to follow even closer to tail end of cart. Most of Port Royal suddenly found itself abed, hidden behind shuttered windows and locked doors. “What the bloody …” Burke mumbled and in answer to unfinished question a shout rose up in challenge. “Stand firm in the name of the King! Identify yourselves!” Chestnut was reined in as armed soldiers from nearby Fort James, approached March who had taken his turn at long drive in. “My name is Andrew March. I be First Lieutenant of the Archangel out of London. This here besides me is Doctor Jacob Reiley our ship’s surgeon. Them that ride behind are locals known as Burke and Dubois,” March replied as soldiers quickly milled about the cart. “Our captain John Sterling died this day and we be bringing him back to port to take him home to his father, Lord William Sterling, in England.” “Died? How so?” a corporal asked. “There already has been foul deeds enough this day. A woman has been brutally attacked and an overseer has been killed and property gone missing,” he explained as sheet was rudely pulled back from Sterling’s body. “Captain Sterling died from illness,” March said. Immediately, save for already suspicious corporal, soldiers fell back away from wagon and possible contamination. “Has he now?” the corporal asked. “You will allow me to be the judge of that.” “Are you a doctor then as well?” Reiley anxiously snapped. “I know well enough a body that’s been done to death as already happened this day,” corporal announced, and yet, he himself did not handle Sterling’s form. Instead others of less fortunate rank were ordered to strip and inspect corpse. “Surely this can be done aboard ship?” Reiley protested. “By the port’s Searchers.” “I have my orders and can not leave my post,” the corporal replied. “You are more than welcome to invite them to second your opinion in the morning if you like.” “Then, since you insist on accomplishing such a task in such an ungodly place, may I suggest a handkerchief?” doctor added as precaution. Again threat of disease caused hesitation and search became careless and hasty. Thankfully when no sign of deadly wound could be discovered, body was once again covered and name of ship recorded. “And we shall be able, if necessary to locate you both there as well as…”head was nodded in direction of corpse. “Captain Sterling?” “We plan to sail with first light,” March said. “Highly unlikely,” the corporal stated and, saving March the need to ask as to why, he added, “The harbor is closed until further notice. No ships will be allowed to leave without clearance from the Colonel and the harbor master.”

Reiley clucked to Chestnut and once again, wagon moved on at a slow and steady pace. Gait was not needed to give way to increase as doctor and March once again fell into conversation. This time centered around Sterling's past exploits. With image of covered form still haunting best friend's thoughts, Andrew March did not have to pretend his feelings of loss.

"Of course Dr. Reiley is nervous, Sir. Ye would be too if ye were witness to a murder and could perchance be considered accomplice,” March shifted comfortably in his place, tone neither raising nor falling. “Captain Sterling had managed to shoot one of the neighboring overseers prior to his illness overtaking him. Dr. Reiley was with him at the time and has been, indeed, as nervous as a caged cat, since his managing to get the captain home to sick bed. He has been, as well, awake tending to the captain’s illness for several days now and has past the point of exhaustion. So, Mister Devareaux, Sir, we need to be getting on, so if ye would be so kind as to be telling yer mates to fall in with us, I would be most grateful. If we be sitting here much longer the captain will indeed begin to stink and then mayhaps yer horse would give ye the sign ye be looking for.” March shook his head. “Aye, I have been around my fair share of the creatures as a lad to know that not all them think or act alike to make them such reliable judges.”

"As ye like," March said with a slight shrug. "Tis a far better offer than his widow made."

hand me downs