CrazyCholeBlack

Jane watched Striker tense as his lieutenant informed him of Captain Sterling’s arrival. His brow flicked in an obvious indication of pain. She winced in sympathy wishing again that he’d taken time to recover before venturing out. Judging by the insistent conversation from his crewman, she was not the only one who felt he should rest. Despite the voiced concerns Striker remained stubborn in his goal. Without another word, Lauritzsen fell quietly into the captain’s shadow next to Ioan. Jane slipped next Striker as he began to walk, seeing the difficulty he was in. She carefully took his free arm, offering a hidden second support to the cane he leaned on. She could feel the tension that ran through him with every step. Inwardly she found herself worrying that the recent injury combined with dismal weather would case him undue illness. He seemed strong but experience had taught Jane that the strong were often the first to fall. The protective urge she felt towards this man felt foreign to her. It overwhelmed every other thought she had. Jane was pleasantly surprised to see Captain Sterling accompanied by a young lady. The presence of the two women would go a long way in disguising their meeting to any accidental observers. As Striker began proper introductions Jane’s eyes scanned the dockside crowd. She felt an uneasy nagging in the back of her mind that there were more people watching them than could be seen. Perhaps it was latent fear after last nights excitement, but her eyes kept moving none the less. It wasn’t until a stunned silence fell over the small group that her focus returned to the matter at hand.

now that explains it! Never could figure out why my seams weren't straight. yer spellin isn't that bad Ransom. Should let ye see mine before spell check gets to it.

and all these years I've been sewing drunk. "Would that thou wert clean enough to spit upon" Timon of Athens (Shakespeare)

Jane paced anxiously across the open deck. Her worn shoes tapped rhythmically on the sea abraded planks. She clenched her hands into tight balls, work shortened nails carving red moons in the palms. Striker was out of his mind, she was sure of it. The man could hardly stand yet he planned to go on a walk with this Captain Sterling in less than a quarter hour. What could possibly be so important that he would risk being out in the open after last nights altercation? Surely who ever attacked them but a few hours earlier knew that Striker was injured and would be looking to finish the job. Jane was over come with the urge to storm back into the room and demand that Striker put off the meeting. At least until he was well enough to defend himself properly again. She felt a tremendous responsibility for his current position. After all, he had protected her from the Spaniard’s blow, had he not? If only the shot hadn’t missed she lamented, regretting that the closest she came to guns aboard the Anna Rae had been to repair the crate they were stored in. She spun on a heel, taking several determined steps back towards the ornate door before regaining her senses. No, it would not do to be candid with Striker when she knew nothing of this meeting. Just as she was about to turn away the cabin door opened. Striker exited, leaning heavily on a cane. The dark red of his coat washed the color from his face, disclosing traces of the pain he was so obviously in. Jane glanced to Ioan, hovering like a shadow over Striker’s shoulder. She knew the place that was expected of her and would not undermine the captain’s authority with the newcomer by speaking her mind. Jane grit her teeth in an attempt to prevent saying something out of place. The words she did manage were carefully spoken, hiding as much emotion as they revealed. “I wish to see this through Captain.” Her eyes fixed on his, the smirk on his lips spreading slightly at her response.

A shadowed figure slipped into The Cheshire Cheese Tavern as the rain filled sky faded to evening. The sordid establishment was already teeming with drunken sailors and accompanying woman. A raucous group of musicians filled the room with the sound of fiddles and bawdy songs. Capitán Ulises sat at a dimly lit corner table, eyeing the unruly crowd. His dark wool coat hung open, revealing a sturdy sword and well fired pistol. The shadowed figure caught his eye, a slight nod exchanged between them. The older man slid quietly through the throng to the Capitán’s side. “¿Lo hizo?” the voice was nothing more than a rough whisper over the interior din. “Sí Capitán” the confirmation came, a satisfied nod tipping Ulises head again before the other man disappeared from the tavern. A round brunette woman drifted over to the table, a cheerful smile on her round mouth. She was sent away with a gesture. Ulises had more important things to worry about than the simple pleasures of a nubile girl tonight. Word spread quickly in a city like Port Royal, especially when accompanied by the offer of coin. It would be only a matter of time before the information he sought would find him.

Maria, I owe this link to Rats but so far it's the best prices I've found for what you're looking for. http://www.periodfabric.com/default.htm Indeed E-bay is the great repository of everything. The only problem is not getting to touch the fabrics ahead of time.

Rotund storm clouds filled the sky, blocking the afternoon sun. Soft rain washed over the decks of La Alma. A bright circle of lamp light fell onto the dark wood desk lighting the slip of cream parchment. Capitán Ulises bent over the smooth page, the furrows in his brow illuminated by the flickering lamp light. Señora Isabel de Ulises Plaza San Felipe Neri Cadiz España Querida Isabel, My darling esposa, how many months has it been? I lament these leagues of sea that keep us apart. I fear I will not recognize your beautiful face when we next meet. After many months of following La Maligna, the quarry is finally near. Pray to the blessed Madre for our continued good fortune in returning her to the crown. The soft scratching of quill and ink slowed to a stop. Ulises sat up from the letter, a bright flash of understanding in his dark eyes. Ulises had made the mistake of underestimating Striker twice now; once at sea and most recently on land. It was a mistake he would not make again. He needed to know more about his adversary, every last detail from when he woke, when he slept and every second in-between. The more he could learn about La Maligna’s erstwhile captain, the easier his final task would be. Most importantly Ulises needed to know Striker’s weaknesses. The Capitán knew well that each man had a fatal fault that could be used against him. Ulises thought back to his darling wife, round with the life of another child when he left Spain. Indeed, every man had a weakness. If Ulises could find Strikers he would be sure to use it to full advantage. “Alvero! Ven aqui” “¿Sí Capitán?” the young officer’s dark head peered through a slim crack in the sturdy cabin door at the summon. “I believe we will get to know our Danish amigo mas major. Have Senors Martin and Luis prepare the boat.” A bone chilling smile curled the corners of Ulises face as the order was relayed.

Greetin's Culli. I'll 'ave a drink with ye. Nuthin warms this lasses heart more than a spot o rum on some one elses coin.

Alright that's it, I'm comming for dinner Mistress Lilly. Seriously these menus are making my meals look pathetic. Tonight it's "my style" black bean soup. Basically vegie stock, onions, garlic & lots of black beans. Mostly I make it as an excuse to eat the beans. I don't do sides or dessert because, well, I'm lazy.

ahum, some of us dreadlocked girlies wouldn't fall for a bright shirt. Seriously though, the costume shirt at MalWart is less than $20, cotton & much more manly "pirate" looking. I'm all for people having fun on halloween with costumes but that is more goth vampire than pirate.

Jane didn’t pause in her steps until her feet touched the docks again. The heavy pouch in her hand was already bothering her. She tugged the leather thong open, pulling a single coin before knotting it shut again. The silver disappeared into her sleeve as she began to walk. A short distance later she turned down a cluttered alley where two young boys played at swords with tree branches. They were barefoot and filthy, their hair tangled beyond repair. Neither looked to have seen more than a dozen years. “Oi! Lads. Ye brothers?” Jane called out causing them to freeze in their mock fight “Aye M’Lady” the elder stepped towards her with a defensive look. “ ’ere give this ta yer ma.” In a smooth motion Jane tossed Tar’s pouch at the foot of the older boy. The lad jumped back as if she’d thrown rocks at him. He quickly rebounded when he recognized the clatter of coins. He bent his skinny knees, gathering the bounty with both hands. The younger boy eagerly scrambled forward to peer in the sack with his brother. “Well go on now!” Jane yelled, shooing them off with her hands. She laughed to herself as they raced off down the street squabbling over who was going to pass the wealth on to their mother. The coin was no longer in her hands but the nagging feeling that something bad would come of it still lingered. She shivered despite the warming morning. With a deep breath Jane turned back down the street, vowing not to dwell on recent mistakes.

“Un hombre. ¡Uno!” Capitán Ulises roared, a bright red anger flaring beneath his dark features. The crewman cringed as shattered glass rained down on the plank floor around him. The captain’s booming voice made his already injured head throb. Dried blood clumped in his dark hair. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, the excruciating pain nearly knocking him over. He regretted not running the cursed woman through when he had the chance. Now he was forced to face the wrath of his captain, a fate worse than death even without a raging headache. “¡Sales!” Ulises demanded grabbing the crewman by his collar and shoving him out the heavy door. Ulises stormed back across the cabin stopping at the oversized desk. A callused fist pounded the wooden top, rattling a glowing oil lamp. He cursed his worthless men, unable to do a simple task. How could four armed men fail to capture one worthless drunk? Their mishap could easily draw unwanted attention and disrupt his plans. Most of all he cursed Captain Striker. The Dane had managed to turn Ulises entire life upside-down in a matter of months. La Maligna had fallen into his hands by sheer luck; there was no other explanation Ulises would accept. Retrieving her would take more than luck. Ulises knew he had both the skill and determination to accomplish the task, if his crew could manage to avoid any further mistakes. Circling the heavy desk, Ulises slid open the single drawer and removed a delicately inlaid box. The shining metal latch lifted with ease. Inside the rich wool interior cradled an ornate pistol. His fingers ran affectionately over the tangled engravings encircling the handle. It had been Hernan’s favorite piece, commissioned especially for him by their father. Ulises had vowed the day he heard of his brother’s death that his killer’s end would come from that pistol. His jaw set in an attempt to control the fury that burned in him. The slightest touch of anger glow behind his dark eyes. When he was finally through with Striker, the dog would beg for a quick end, a consideration his poor brother was never allowed. Effortlessly, Ulises sat back in his stiff chair, the weapon cradled in his palms, considering his next move.

aye, took the question right out of my mouth Captain Sterling.

Jane was about to follow Ioan out the door when Striker commented on her trustworthiness. The compliment halted her in mid step. She had only known the gentleman for a few hours and yet knowing he trusted her sparked pride she hadn’t felt in many months. She glanced to the captain with a soft smile. Even in little more than a simple shirt, propped amongst rumpled bed linens, he had an air of authority about him. Wordlessly she turned, drawing one of the sturdy chairs over to Striker's bedside. She offered the seat to the messenger with a gesture. She then focused her attention on ensuring each man had a full mug of the available wine. Satisfied that basic hospitality was taken care of, Jane stepped back from the men, hands clasped demurely behind her back. She didn’t want to seem interested in the ensuing conversation, even though curiosity ate at her. She found herself channeling her mother’s placid expression. Eyes down, hands still, to every man ye give good will; she could almost hear her mother’s familiar refrain. Inwardly, she focused on every word exchanged.

“Oh, mother o’ saint’s yer a persistent lot!” Jane grumbled, snatching the lumpy pouch from Tar’s insisting hand. Her nose wrinkled in an annoyed manner followed by a resigned shake of the head. “I’d best make my way lest ye hand over the whole ship.” She smiled, gesturing with her arms as she rose from her seat. “Many thanks for the hospitality Captain Tar, Mr. Spoons, Captain Ransom, Captain Striker.” Her gaze hung on Striker for a moment longer, the faintest pink coloring her cheeks. With a shy smile, Jane turned and left the galley.

I love Hard Tacks gloves Gregory. Jest wot I need seen as we had our first snow today! Now Captain Striker, no exploits with peg legged women until yer healed :)

Jane was taken a back by the cooks offering. Judging by the weight the small pouch it held no less than a month of her meager pay. She knew if she accepted the gift she would come to regret it in some way later. Her eyes locked with Spoons for a moment before she responded. “Nay, ‘tis not mine sir.” Her tangled blond hair shook in denial. The bundle was lightly placed on the crowded table. “And I wouldn’t wish ta take advantage of yer already ample generosity. Although,“ Jane paused, searching the bottom of her empty mug with the slightest smile “I would take a bit more of that ale.”

Didn't you both play that game already? No, wait that was M'dear Captain Striker.

Jane had only closed her eyes for a moment it seemed before the voice jerked her awake. She sat up suddenly, toppling gracelessly from her uncomfortable perch. Her head swam with the remains of the night. Once properly on her feet she found Strikers side quickly. “Captain?” She questioned noting his pain-furrowed brow, “Careful now. Tis not pretty back there.” Her slender hand slipped behind his shoulder, the light touch helping him sit slightly on the soft bedding. She winced as his face shifted, jaw set against the still throbbing wound. He let out a stiff breath as the motion was completed. Jane bit her own lip in concern. She had tended a few injuries on the Anna Rae when hands were short but this felt different somehow. Her mind wandered to the last sick bed she sat beside, the ashen face of her lover Joseph as the life faded from him. The memory brought the sting of tears to her jade eyes. Jane turned from Striker’s side, not wanting him to see the emotion. She raised a full pitcher from the nearby table, the flow of watered wine filling two sturdy mugs. The drink was handed to the captain with a delicate gesture. He drank carefully, piercing blue eyes following her every move. Jane could feel herself blush under his watchful stare. Even in his injured state the spark behind his eyes was evident. She sipped at the other mug, the weak alcohol soothing her dry throat. “Um, tha other gentleman?” Jane’s question faltered. A hand absently rubbed the back of her stiff neck. She wasn’t sure what to think of the other man. She sent a fleeting glance to over her shoulder to where Ioan stood stiffly in the dancing shadows of the cabin. If it had not been for his invaluable assistance, she doubted they would have made it back to La Maligna. He had even offered to stay by the door, should more help be necessary. Yet, Jane couldn’t shake the feeling that Ioan wasn’t someone to be trusted. Perhaps she was being overly cautious but given the recent altercation it felt like the proper response. She turned back to Striker, the concern evident in her face.

I've read that monmouth caps were at least lightly fulled. Fulling is a good option for winter clothes, and pretty easy to do.

Jane’s voice shook slightly as she spoke. She felt the incredible urge to curl into a ball & hide but knew that wouldn’t happen in this persistent group. “My apologies captain, er, captains.” She paused nodding at Ransom & Tar “‘Tis true whot ye said Capn Striker. ‘Tis not fare to judge all by the actions of one.” The ale was raised to her dry mouth in an attempt to calm her still jangled nerves. She shifted in her seat, tucking first one leg then the other under herself in a position that looked more uncomfortable than it was. “Yer hospitality should ‘ave been enough fer me ta see that. Now please, I would love to hear ‘bout tha Spanish. If ye care ta tell it sir” Her brow raised to Striker, hopeful that the change in conversation would rescue her from further questioning.

Striker traced a jagged path through interlocking alleys and the narrow lanes between buildings. He slipped through the shadowed back passages like one who had used them many times before. As they entered another cluttered alleyway, he stopped short. His arm disengaged Jane’s, reached past her in a protective gesture. Jane tucked herself closely behind Strikers stiff shoulder, unable to see past the worn material of his coat. At another time the closeness would have been enjoyable. Unconsciously her hold on the nearly drained rum bottle she held shifted. She turned to look over her own shoulder to the mouth of the alley, sensing a trap. Her heart skipped as a dark shadow blocked their only egress. She could barely identify the line of a blade at his side. With subtle movements, Jane slipped her other arm around Strikers chest, her hand running over the hard leather of his pistol brace. She patted twice, feeling his slight nod in agreement as her fingers wrapped around a smooth wooden stock. The weapon slid easily from its cocoon into her possession. The thin arm dropped stiffly to her side, concealing the pistol among the folds of her over skirt. Although Jane had little experience with firearms, it was a relief to find her hands weren’t completely empty like earlier in the evening. “Hola Capitán. Returning to La Maligna so soon?” The smooth Spanish voice echoed off the equally smooth wood & plaster walls around them. “Aye,” Strikers voice growled in response. Jane’s heart pounded loudly in her ears, simplifying the ensuing conversation to nothing more than a hum. The drone continued as the bulky man from the alley entrance stalked towards them. She pulled back from Striker’s shadow, facing the oncoming man with shaky confidence. Over the murmur of voices, Jane heard the metallic click of pistols being readied. Her pistol rose as well. Her thumb found the bump of the locking screw, easing the cock back with little effort as she aimed into the man’s back silhouette. “Es menos doloroso cuando no se lucha, chica” The bulky Spaniard taunted. The words were foreign but their condescending tone rang clear. Anger began to overshadow Jane’s stifling fear. The cool metal trigger was tugged by a determined finger, slamming forward with a bright flash. The jolt from firing disrupted Jane’s aim. The altered angle barely grazing the large man’s shoulder. He laughed a deep, rattling bellow at her near miss. Moon light glinted off his crooked yellow teeth. His foreign insults continued, the lascivious look in his face twisting Jane’s stomach. Her shaking arm dropped, the smooth pistol grip slipping from her sweaty fingers. It landed with a soft thud on the muddy ground at her feet. She stepped back, realizing the chances for escape were slim. The attacker closed the remaining distance between them just as Jane dodged to the side. She hefted the solid run bottle in her other hand; it was a gamble, but her only remaining defense. With an overhand swing more accustomed to pounding wooden pegs, Jane slammed the green bottle into the side of the man’s head. He staggered back several steps before crumbling heavily against the far building. Jane backed up against a rough crate, a wave of shock washing over her. Every once of color draining from her already pale skin. The hand gripping the now shattered bottle shook slightly at her side. Tiny streams of blood ran from the myriad of glass slivers on her hand & forearm. Her breathing became shallow and rapid, lungs burning with spent powder that filled the alleyway. She had never been in anything more than a simple fistfight, and those were always against blindly drunk opponents. This was something much more, something she was not fully prepared to deal with. It wasn’t until she heard the sharp voice of Striker calling her name and felt his heavy hand on her arm that Jane returned her focus outward. She looked first into his reassuring blue eyes, a relieved smile playing in the creases around them before looking past him to the final bloody scene.

The words rung loudly in Jane’s ears. A captain, it made so much sense, yet the thought put her ill at ease. Endless possibilities about Striker’s meeting, his ship & her own safety, raced around in Jane’s wine addled brain. One fact stood out, a heavily armed captain did not command a simple merchantman like the Anna Rae. Still, the north docks were significantly closer than her attic room, a rope hammock no less comfortable than the waiting straw filled mattress. The drink had also begun to have a noticeable effect on her. Her limbs felt heavy, yet her head light as air. The dim lights of the tavern moved rapidly with every turn. A walk though the dark streets alone in her condition could easily be more dangerous than remaining with an armed man. Striker had yet to give her any reason not to trust him. “It would be a pleasure Captain Striker.” The word caught in her throat as she took his offered arm and was guided formally into the humid city streets.

The heavy curved anchor sunk with a quiet splash into the deep blue waters off the sloped shoreline. The broad Hope River hung in the foreground, cascading into the salinated water with endless vigor. The crew completed their tasks in silence as rose colored skies blended to darkness over La Alma. Capitán Ulises paced a well-known path on the quarterdeck. It seemed he had been in this place a thousand times over in the past 5 months. The blackness of his eyes surveyed the jagged line of shore, following it to the sharp southerly turn that blocked full view of the cay. This time would be different, he would see to that himself if need be. “Ustedes, Ven aqui.” Ulises gestured to four young men thoughtfully sharpening swords on the sea bleached deck. He turned, ducking into a darkly paneled cabin, the men following solemnly behind. Ulises sat himself comfortably behind a heavy oak desk. Salt worn shoes propped up on the bare surface in a deceptively relaxed gesture. He addressed the men without any other shift in his stern demeanor. “Take the boat around the bend into Porto Royal. Find La Maligna and her capitán piojoso. Bring him back here, alive. ¿Entiendes?” The men nodded to their captain, muttering statements of agreement at his orders. They filed quickly back onto the deck, gathering weapons and needed supplies for their errand. The small row boat was lowered into the darkening water. Ulises withdrew from the cabin as the sailors disembarked, pushing the small vessel away from the larger ship with their paddles. A singular yellow flame flickered near the bow as the four men rowed towards shore. “Si Capitán Striker, your death will discharge our great debt indeed” Ulises muttered, watching the silhouette disappear into the dark evening sea.

“Least ye ‘av a cook” Jane mumbled pushing around the food on her plate rather than eat. She felt a bitter jealousy at the three captains and their complaints about poorly prepared food. At least they had meals. Jane’s days on the over manned, under supplied Anna Rae had been a practice in starvation. The lavish lifestyle the other enjoyed was becoming all too comfortable to her. Another day and she wouldn’t want to leave. Jane set down her fork unused. She cupped the offered mug with both hands, looking deeply into the amber liquid. She took a full gulp, relishing the slightly warm bitter ale. As she lowered the drink, she noticed that the others were watching her every move. It made her distinctly uncomfortable to be under all those pairs of eyes. She bit her pink lips in nervous reaction. “Um, aye Captain” she said more distinctly directing her gaze to Strikers quizzical smile.