Liam Finn

Ian and I followed the woman at a distance, she went into a shop, After a time she came out, turned and went in againm back out and into a carriage for hire. We kept to the shadows and were about to follow the carriage when Ian grabs my jacket front. "Liam, lookit dis bloke comin along ere." We watched as a stout fella walked in and out of several shops, looking happier each time he came out. He then went into the shop The bint had left. We heard a pistol shot and not long after he emerged whistling and waltzes down into the Three Crowns. "Ya tink dat twit's doin wot I tink e's doin?" We peeked out again and made our way down to the shop and looked in, there lay the owner with blood dripping out of his forhead. "Aye, brudder, he were doin wot we tink." We continue past and to the front of the Three Crowns. In our curiosity, we lost the carriage with the woman in it. "Dats a pisser. . . but tis a small town, we'll see da bint again. . . Soon."

We watch the blazing Inn and all the people trying to put the fire out for a half hour or more. "Well Ian, I'm bored, an tirsty. I still got some silver coin in my pocket, do you?" Ian pats his pockets. a slight clink of coins is heard. "I got some left, but we need ta get more." "That we do, brudder, that we do. Let us go have a drink an maybe somethin ta eat." We nod to one another and head down through the shop, not a soul to be seen. I head over to tha counter and rumage around in the papers and things. "Ha Ha! Luck we have!" I show Ian a miniature chest box and shake it. The contents shift around. Opening the box, I pour out what's inside. Several coins scatter across the tabletop. "Looks ta be enough fur another day ta fill our bellies." I pick up all tha coins, devide them and hand Ian his share. "Lets go. I tink we past a pub last night called the cat and fiddler or sometin. Far enough away ta not be bothered by this mess." Ian nods at me again. "Aye, good a place as any." We walk out into the street and down past the burning building, all the while the swarm of people run water from the warf with buckets. As we come through on the other side we see a carrage stop and that damned bint step out, looking at the blaze and looked to be talking to herself. I elbow Ian, "Looky der. . . dats th bint who was yellin 'murderers!' at us when we was takin away th body. . . I tink we might have sometin ta do dis evenin'." I grin wickedly at Ian, he grins back and we both chuckle some as we walk to the edge of the crowd.

Huh. . . . take revenge on a body an all of a sudden we're psychotic. Ya hear dat brudder o' mine? We are quite reasonable when treated wit respect. Cross us and, you see the results.

We spent the rest of the night and morning slowly finding out way back to the alley behind the Shipp Inn. We dodged the night watch time and time again until we came to the familiar doorway. Ian went and checked the door, it was still open. he ducked inside and returned a moment later. "Da bastard owner still lies in a pool o his blood. No one found im yet." I smile. "Den we add dis basard ta th' pile o dung, an den. . . . " I grin wide. Ian narrows his eyes then a look of understanding spreads across his face. "It'd be my pleasure ta do th deed brudder o mine." We look about and find no one around, no one paying us no mind. We carry the stinking, rum soaked body of Killingsworth into the back room of the Shipp Inn and lay him on the owner. "I'll stand guard while you do yur ting, boy-o." "You do dat, brudder."

Ian nods to me with a look of understanding, but not. "Da basard been in der fur a day. Soaked up wha was left by now I reckon. " Ian sniggered, "Pickled bastard." I chuckle at his joke "Aye. . . Lets see if we can find tha store room. get some more powder n shot if we can." We abandon the small barrel we were drinking from and were feeling good by it. We wandered through the alleys for a time untill they looked familiar and began checking for open doors. Some were unlocked, but not the right rooms. Ian hissed to me from across the alleyway. "Brudder, I tink dis be it!" I crossed to him and we bothe looked in. it was quite dark so not much was to be seen. "I can na tell... ye might be right." I felt my way in, Ian right behind me. There were crates and barrels here, they smelled of rum and other spirits. Ian opened a crate and snorted. "I tol ye it were th right place. He be some muskets." "Is that so? Well where be th barrel wit th basard in it?" We both shuffled around and touched upon all the barrels in the room until finding one that when shoved some didn't slosh, but it was heavy. I could see Ian smile in the dim light. Sure enough the top was broken and I pulled out the pieces the smell of death mixed with rum hit us. "Christ! it's him alright." I put the pieces back and the smell was lessened. "Well brudder o' mine, tink we can roll im out o here?"

Molitov Killingsworth. . . . . . Has a nice ring to it. . . . .

We made our way through the back alleys and side-streets that followed Lime street until they were behind the Shipp Inn. Finding the door into the back store room I forced it open and took a look inside. It was empty. "Come on brudder, shhh." We slowly creeped into the back room, careful not to bump into anything and make noise. I found a good spot that I can stand hidden from the door into the common room. "Oi, Go hide over der, I'll be right ere. When th bastard comes in ere we'll shut im up first." I whisper to Ian. He smiles cruelly and nods. He moves over into the stop I told him to go and I could see him smiling from where I hid. I could see the bastard moving about the room, serving a table himself. once he was back behind the bar I made a noise, then another and a squeaking sound like a rat. Soon his round form filled the doorway as he squinted inside the room. I shifted a small sack and squeaked again. Then he spoke. "Damnation. . . where's that mangy cat when ye needs him. Damned rats." He started into the room and picked up a barrel stave. As he came further in he looked around and stopped. I squeaked again and he looked my way. He tried to sneak to where I stood. When he got close to me he looked up and saw me standing there, he jumped. Just then Ian grabbed him from behind. I slammed my hand across his mouth and showed him my pistol. "Not a peep ya doublecrossin bastard." He stoped struggling some. I took my hand from his mouth and quickly drew my dagger. In a hissing voice I asked him a question I didn't care what his answer was. "What would you have us do after tried to do us in after we did ye such a favour as riddin ye of a body? Humm, mate?" I saw him take a quick breath and quickly drew the dagger fast and hard across his windpipe, blood sprayed from the side of his throat as he tried to scream. All that came out was a rush of air and some gurgling. as the life went out of him. I helped Ian slowly lay him on the ground. I wiped his blood off my dagger on his shirt. then yanked his apron off, wiping his blood off my face and jacket. I threw the apron over his face and motioned for Ian to follow. We tok a small cask of rum or whiskey with us. It was too dark to read the markings on it. Out the back we went and into the alleys. We stopped at a water trough and I washed my face and hands of any more blood. "Where ye wanna go an do now, brudder Ian?" He laughed. "Lets find a spot ta drink dis ere. " I nodded and we walked off down passed the big mansion.

Shoving my pistol back into my belt I waited for Ian to finish dressing. I walked over to the bottle he set on the table and drank from it. "If we can find at store room where we got th jackets n dumped th body, der was more shot n powder in der. Now, We ain't gonna shoot im. . . . . I got a plan ta do it quiet." He drew the dagger on his belt and touched his finger to the tip. "I could do im like th guard on th ship, or I could slit im from ear ta ear. . . . See if we can get im into th back store room, no one will know til later, th bastard." I carefully put the dagger back in its sheath and leaned against the wall, crossing my arms. "Shake a leg Ian, it ain't a short walk ta Lime street."

As we were seperated I don't know if Ian is having a good time, I can only guess he is, not that I care as my only concern is the buxon wench with me. We roll onto the bed and it squeaks. She giggles. I pull off my jacket and throw it into a corner and begin to unlace her bodice as she runs her hands across my chest. Her breathing is quickening as I remove her bodice and unlace he corset, cupppung one breast in a hand as my other continues to pull the lacings off. We speak no words. None are necessary, we both know what we're doing. She pulls my shurt out of my slops and runs her hands on my flesh. I groan. in a short time our naked bodies are against each other, our hot breath in each others ears. The bed squeaks horribly as we make the beast with two backs...

As the day wore on, the brothers had broken their morning fast and ranged about, finding a well at the back of a home/tinsmiths shop and dumped the bag of silver there. Trying to lay low was a difficult thing for the young men, as they were rather tall and, twins to boot. As they ranged down one of the many back streets a woman who was tarted up leaned out a window and called to them, offering a good time. They stopped, grinned at the proposition and looked up at the woman. Liam spoke, "Where's yer door? An is there more than jus you up der?" She drew back into the window and a moment later there were three women looking down at them. Their grins got wider. "Ian, I tink we found a way ta pass th time til dark. What sez ye?" "Aye Liam. . . . Aye." The woman pointed to the door and they entered, headed up the stairs to find the whores with witch their time would be spent.

Now I started reading that story. Funny name for a ship, but I like the writing. I like that there's a timetable kept, kind of erratic, but better than none at all. Bring that ship to Port Royal so me and Ian can get off this rock! Unless we find another willing ship.

Ian and Liam had spent the night at the tavern in comfort. their ill gotten gains had paid for a room and good food and drink. They slept soundly on the floor as the bed had been used to baracade the door, not about to have a repeat of the happenings at the Shipp Inn across the bay. As morning arrived a cock crowed near by waking Liam. He sat up and yawned, stretched and looked about the dimly lit room. Sparce and dingy it might have been, but it was a safe haven for the present. next to him lay a brace of pistols, a dagger and hanger. In his pocket his coin pouch was still heavy bringing a smile to his face. Ian lay not far, sleeping still. He snored lightly and occasionally stopped. Liam noticed that his brother had laid out his weapons between himself and the wall, and next to his head lay the sack containing the last of the silver stolen from the mansion. Not much was left. The last remaining pieces were too recognizable for the easy sale they had hoped for and Liam wondered if they should just dump them in a well to be rid of them. No need to keep something that would connect them with the theft. He leaned over and pinched Ian's nose shut, causing him to snore loudly, choke, and wake with a start. "Rize n shine brudder... time we made plans fur th day." Ian looked at his brother still dull with sleep, he yawned sat up and hugged himself and shivered. "Liam. . . . ummm. . . . wot we doin?" Ian shivered again and slowly stood, looked around the room and not seeing a chamber pot headed to the window, cracked open the shutters and pissed out of the opening. Liam slid over to the wall and leaned against it waiting for Ian to finish. When he finished and fixed himself, Liam spoke. "First off, we eat, then we see about dumpin th rest o the silver. just dump it, into a well or garbage pit. No one wants it an we need ta be rid of it. next we need ta lay low til night, head back across th bay. we got revenge ta serve up." Ian grinned at me. "Aye brudder Liam."

As we make our way into the night, away from the Shipp Inn, I am furious. So much in fact I cannot find the words with which to curse the owner of the retched Inn. We make our way back and around the town finally stopping somewhere on the other side of the port. We're both winded from the running and as luck would have it, there was a tavern right acros the street from where we stopped. "Brudder, looks like fine place. Shall we?" Ian looks the tavern up and down. He shrugs his shoulders. "Look fine tae me. I needs a drink, an so do you." Aye, that I do brudder Finn, that I do. " I carefully hoist the sack over my shoulder and we cross the street into the tavern, find a spot inside at a table near the rear and have some beer. We chat with some of the other folks who seem friendly enough, and we can tell not everything here is on the level, so we make inquiries in a subtle way about who might like some wares. Within three hours time we are no longer burdened with the sack and are several pounds richer. A fine sum even if it was not even a quarter of what the silver was worth. We settle back in at a table at the tavern and have a meal. While we eat I finally can hold back any more. "Well Ian. . . . tha bastard of a innkeeper tried ta do us, now we dne his man in, but tha ain't good nuff. . . . tomorra, or maybe the day next, we're gonna make im wish he done us right. But we'll do it quiet like. Slip a knife under is ribs or open up is throat." Ian just nods with a dark look on his face. "Well thas settled. . . I'm tired think we can trust the owner o this place?" Ian looks at the room, drains his beer and burps. "We'll trust em this nite."

As Ian an I were going through what we got out of that fancy govners house, there was heavy footsteps in the hallway. Ian laid a hand on my shoulder and put a finger to his lips. We slowly rose from the side of the bed and stepped close to the door when there was a jingle of keys. I blew out the candle and drew a pistol, standing to the side of the door. It swung open and a large man filled the doorway. "Who's in dis rooum!" He yelled. I stuck my pistol to the back of his head. "I's in dis ere room, " I pulled back the cock on my pistol. "What you be doin' in my room?" I know the sound of the cock being drawn and the barrel against his head made him scared. "You ain't suposed to be in ere, ya got no right!" I chuckled, "Oh, But I do. . . You go tell th owner Ryan McFinney be in his room that ye promised him for, doing a service to im. . . . . Now run along and tell yer master!" I shoved him into the hallway and shut the door. I don't hear him leave so I yell through the door. "Go on ya bastard, bfore I call th' town guard fer breakin' inta me room!" I hear him lumber off then. I whisper to Ian, "You think he'll be back? We best hide our silver fore he do." "Aye brudder, an be ready ta go if th owner welches on is promise, we'll do im for it if he does." Aye Ian, we'll do im right if that be da case."

We filled the bag with all we could find easily moved worth, found the liquor cabenet and took all from there. It was stiffeling hot in the mansion so we retreated into the cellar for a time to drink our ill gotten spirits. The cellar housed the winter kitchen and a small pantry where we found some foodstuffs so we made a fine meal out of the food and drink. It was still to hot to want to do much else and we didn't know if there were still soldiers about, so we stayed where we were. "Once darkness comes, then we'll find our way back ta th' Shipp, get our room an see about where ta sell this silver." Ian nodded to me and leaned back in a chair. Soon his head nodded forward and he is snoozing. "Fine idea." I say quietly. I get comfortable but I can not sleep. My mind is going over the events of the day so far. One thing sticks in my mind. . . . the blonde woman. . . we need to find that strumpet and see where she fits in to all this. Then, maybe we can find whomever the captain and Miss McKinney might be.

Oi, Killingsworth! Sorry ta have ta stuff yer corpse in a barrel, not a fitting casket, or is it? We was put in a tight spot, an well, you know, we had ta do somethin.

After the men had walked away, Ian spoke, "Ya tink at bugger we put inna barrel be this Killinsworth?" I nodded, "I do brudder I do... Wonder who dis cap'n and miss McKinney are?" Ian thinks for a moment, "I guess they's wrapped up in a mess, right wit ol Killinsworth, who been killed already." I nod and chuckle "Aye. . . . Lets hope tha owner o th Shipp Inn don't tink he got off on givin us our room. Now lets see wot we got ere in this ere govners fancy house. " I put my fingers to my lips and Ian smiles and nods. We creep out from the trees to the back of the mansion and see if there is a window or door open. After a short search we end up at the door. "Locked up tighter den a drum, looks like we gotta break in." Says Ian. "Aye, we can bust th lock on this door I bet, both gotta yank hard. " So we grab hold of the door and pull and yank til the door frame splinters. "Ha ha. . . We're in. Quietly now brudder." We head in slowly and wait to hear any noise. A minute passed, there is nothing. We slowly search the house and not a soul to be found. "Looks like we be home brudder, but stay away from th windows. " Ian nods again. We continue to look through the house, pocketing small silver items. in the one cupboard I find a canvas sack. "Ian, I found us a sack! fill this up easy we can. I'm sure there be someone round ere ta buy all this silver." I chuckle and he starts to giggle so I hit him and put my finger to my lips. "Shhhh!!! Not so loud ya fool! Quietly, quietly." He chokes back a laugh and we begin to put candlesticks in the sack.

Looking around the storeroom in the dim light, all the barrels of rhum and other crates and other things, I find one barrel to be empty. "Ian, this one be empty, tha bugger's goin in it." He looks at me for a moment then smiles as he understands. "Aye, a fine casket." We pick up the body, who we find is called Killingsworth and with our combined strength fold him in half and into the barrel. I drop several handfuls of dirt from the floor in on top of him and then jam the barrel end down tight. "Tha should do im fine. Rest in piece ya bastard." We hear the yelling of the woman get quiet and the sounds of alarm die down. Ian turns to me. " Ain't much goin on now, tha bitch's got ta explain all er yellin an all ta them soldiers, we gonna wait it out til it's quiet?" I walk to the gap of the door and look out. I see no soldiers or the blonde woman. "We could wait it out, but they could be searchin fur us. I say we find somewheres else ta be, if they do find us ere, an look about an find tha bastard in th barrel, we're done." " Aye brudder." I slowly open the door and look out, the only person in sight is an old beggar asleep or dead laying in another doorway. "Time ta go brudder. Grab up two o them jackets, we need ta look proper." I head out and Ian follows with the clothes in hand, we head out and around, keeping a lookout for soldiers and that woman. we find ourselves back near the big fancy house with the limestone wall around it, so I help Ian over the wall and follow him over. There's a small copse of fruit trees in the corner of the walls that we go and hide in for the time being.

Ian and I headed to the quiet corner with the maid and owner of the Inn. He looked scared, his eyes darting about, checking who else might see us. "Look here you two, there's been all sorts o' trouble here as of late, ruin me business it will. . . " He looks at us nervously again. So I says, "Me goode man, ye can trust us ta our word. We'll be quite as a church mouse, ah, mice. What say ye give us a room fer th night and meals this day? A fair trade fur our indescression?" As he has no choice he readily agrees. The maid shows us up stairs to the room. As we open the door the smell of death hits us. The maid backs away quickly. "We'll take it from ere Gurl, see you later, in our room mebbee." I smile and nudge Ian who chuckles as we watch her retreat down the hall. "Come on, work ta do brudder." Aye" We head in and shut the door. There in the bed is a body covered by a blanket. I pull it back to reveal a beaten, bloody man in a wig. Ian chuckles some, "Looks like he met a robber an paid a mean price. think he might have anything left on him?" I shrug "I guess we'll find out." We search the body and find nothing of value, we search the room too. Nothing. "Oh well, down th back stair with him." We gather him up in the blanket, he's stiff as a board. We carry him out the back and away from the Inn through the alley until we come to a main street. I look out and around. "Looks clear, brudder, all th way ta th warf."

Waking the next morning by being screamed at by the owner of the Shipp Inn, as we had passed out in the alleyway beside it, was not the best way to start our day. I grabbed the loud man by his shirt front and was about to bloody his face when Ian grabbed my arm, stopping me from doing so. He spoke quietly to me as I gave him a murderous look. "No need ta kill tha man fur wakin us, he were jus not expectin us ta be ere so early." I released the man, and patted his shoulder. "No arm done, mate. Be tha kitchen open? We have a hunger and coin ta pay." The owner who at first when I grabbed him looked in fear of his life was now brightened by my question. Still nervous but pleased he was to make some gold so early. "Aye, the kitchen is ready ta serve." We followed him back into the main room and took the table we had late evening. Ordered some biscuits, eggs and fish and small ale. As the food was brought out a maid came down from the upper rooms, sobbing about a dead man in a bed. I looked at Ian, "Devil's been ar work this past eve. . . . . " He smiled at me with a mouthful of biscuit, "Aye, an it weren't us he were after, this time." We both laugh and keep eating, listening to the poor maid and the owner. "Should we offer ta get rid of the body, for a fee?"

Ian an I speak to a handfull of townsfolk, well, the ones who don't shy away from us first. We find that the establishment we had walked behind earlier, The Shipp Inn would suit us well. However we kept finding our way back to that fine looking big house we had breakfast across from. My curiosity, an Ian's as well were drawing us back to the place. "Ye tink anyone be ome, brudder? Looks quite empty er yer thing we should wait til the night?" Ian puts his hand to his chin. "Hummm . . . . We should wait to be sure nay a soul is home." I nod to him. "Aye yur right . . . " So we head back over to the Shipp Inn and see what they have for us to drink.

We awake in a barn the next morning, our heads still foggy from the night of drink in that dirty little shanty pub. But it wasn't our money we spent, but that of a dead man's. "Time ta find our breakfast, brudder." "Aye, steal it or buy it?" I hold up the pouch and shake it, there's still some coins left. "We can buy it, I'm still foggy from th drink ta steal right now." He laughs at me and I punch him in the arm, he still laughs and gets up rubbing his shoulder where I hit him. After a short time we're both up and out of the barn, heading into the town called Port Royal, looking for a meal, and maybe a meal ticket.

Ian covered it close enough. but fur th part that we was jumped while leavin our favourite pub. Near split our skulls they did. Next thing we're in that ship and what me brudder says happens. This was up Rossnowlagh way, tween Ballyshannon an Donegal. Ian says we're hooligans. . . . . That's what th english bastards call us. We're good to our own, treat us right an we'll be good to you too. Right brudder Finn?

Where's this tavern? on Jamaica? Me brudder an I might like a drink an a meal an more drink, maybe more drink afer that. . . . . Barkeep! dust off yur servin wenches an send them our way!

Feeling better in dry clothes and well armed, I creep out into the night, Ian right behind me. Not another living person in sight, so we stop the sneaking and walk towards the lights of the town of Port Royal, hoping to find a tavern or some place to find a meal and a drink. We look at each other and grin at the weapons and new clothes.