Nimrod Pinon

"What do you mean he has still not been found?!" Pinon shouted angrily. Tall figure spun wildly upon his heel and long strides took him to furthest confines of red coated Major's front parlor. Conner stood just as angrily, his patience straining to remain in check. "It is not that we have not tried," he interjected, knowing anything he said would find no acceptance with the other man. "Try harder then!" Pinon yelled, then paused, reining back his fury. Slow, calculated steps took him face to face, within inches of the young major. Ice blue eyes narrowed as head tilted slightly on an angle. "You and your men are wasting valuable time thinking that you can flush this man out without raising the alarm. Do you not know there are many here that would strive to conceal this outlaw?" Conner slowly exhaled a deep breath. He knew all too well one such individual. Dark eyes lowered allowing lids to hide knowing glint. "What would you have me do? I and my men are at your master's and your disposal," he whispered, trying his best to sound defeated. "Send out all that you can. Leave no soldier back at the barracks. Kick in every door if you must, but find this captain and drag him back to Marshallsea. And if you did not know, start with the doors which the Devareaux clan hide behind. He is, as of late, married into their unsavory coterie. Surely it would be the first place he would run!!"

"Imbeciles!" Pinon stormed. Icy glare flew from the true guard that lay bound at his feet to the officer that had unlocked Sterling's cell. "He could be miles from here by now! You have wasted precious time!!" The tall figure glanced once more at the cell's current captive, before he pushed past the others around him. Fingers seized the throat of the officer. "Not another second must be lost! Find him! Start with his relations! If he goes any where for help it will be to them. I want solders at every Devareaux hiding place!! Search him out and bring him back or so help me even Modyford won't be able to save your sorry hide!!"

Already in route to Marshallsea prison, Pinon hastened his steps as people about him began to stream toward the same destination. Dark hair prickled upon the back of his neck as a sick feeling laid siege to his gut. Something was not right. The tall figure broke into a run, colliding with more than one ridiculous person, who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. With senses reeling, he never saw the wounded guard step past him, nor could he spare a second to tell the old hag to mind her place, which, to him, twas her own fault for blocking his path. By the time he entered the main gate, soldiers were already retreating back to the yard. Confusion abounded. No one could tell what had happened or why one of their own had been hurt. None could find the injured party and worse, no one could explain what he had meant by “Trouble.” Upon all inspection, Marshallsea prison life was no different from any other day. “WHAT are you telling me?!” Pinon exploded as black, gloved hand slammed palm down upon the table. The officer of the watch flinched in his seat as the sound seemed to rebound about the guard room. “Exactly that Mr. Pinon. Absolutely nothing is amiss,” came a wooden reply. Ice blue eyes hardened as they set upon the officer. “Take me to him! I wish to see Captain Sterling for myself! Now!” “But of course. You have never been denied access to the man. You know that well enough. But I assure you, sir, nothing is wrong.”

Pinon followed close on other's heels. Cell door was hauled closed, interior falling into darkness. Lock was turned and key, safely pocketed until returned to officer on duty. Dark figured pressed onward, finally moving past slower barrister. Papers from Danish ships were poor fakes at best. Lilith would have to be released so actual documents could be found. They would be needed if Sterling actually managed to walk away a free man from his murder trial.

Pinon straightened, voice falling to a cold whisper. “Do not try my patience Mr. Manchester, with your precious credentials. If you wish to keep your place in this trial, you will adhere to my dictates. Remember if the Crown has brought you here, it can easily replace you with another. Now I will repeat my offer to allow you to leave like a gentleman should, or would you rather I call the guard and have you dragged out as you had Mistress McKinney treated thus, not so long ago?”

Ice blue eyes smiled malevolently as Pinon regained his standing. “An impassioned act of self defense is erroneous in your eyes Mr. Manchester? Fortunately it is not so regarding the law.” Sigh of boredom escaped the taller man. He bowed slightly, arm waving toward cell door. “After you then.”

Pinon dodged without difficulty, side stepping his assailant and with action far swifter than one would imagine, he snatched gold headed cane from barrister’s hold. Ice blue eyes blazed coldly, walking stick converting to weapon, as Pinon brought its end down callously against the sea captain’s crown. Sterling fell hard but Pinon was not content and raised staff once again. Second strike was delivered and then dark figure knelt down besides prisoner and rained down several more blows until Manchester found himself and was able to interfere.

“As if I would walk about with such important papers in my possession! All evidence is safely locked away and his Lordship, Sir Michael Harrington, one of the judges who is to preside over the proceedings, is the holder of said key,” Pinon related. “As in any ordinary case, you will see all at the court when you go to plead.” He shook his head incredulously. “Surely you well know this. No one would dream of withholding such from your perusal. As to the other case, there is a witness to your killing of the overseer. Him you shall meet at trial as well. He wishes until then to remain anonymous. As one can most certainly understand his apprehension where your in-laws are concerned. Cutpurses and smugglers.” Pinon turned to look at Manchester. “Do you truly believe you can rely on this man’s social standing to help him? Are you not aware that his very own father has long ago, washed his hands of him? He was disinherited for marrying a whore, his father has not spoken to him since. Do you really think he will lift a finger to help him now that he is married to another one?”

Pinon stood his ground, blocking the exit. Manchester would have to make his way around. “Most interesting. Not one question asked,” lean shoulders’ shrugged. “I have a question.” Blue eyes widened in actual surprise as they fixed once again on Sterling. “The charges … of piracy… who has brought them against me if not the Crown?” the captain asked. “What evidence is there? I wish to see it, now.”

"Bat about, Mr. Manchester?" Pinon mocked surprise, one gloved hand pressing over his heart. "Me Sir? Twas not I that asked to come here to speak with the prisoner, but you sir or have you forgotten?" Ice blue eyes steeled briefly. "As you say you are well aware of the instructions regarding this man, you are not to speak with him unless I am present, have you only then come to look upon him? Surely you have seen your share of murders and pirates before? Why then, sir, have you come?" Until now, third party had remained aloof, as if being spoken about and yet not present. Sterling turned about, blond head lifting slightly. "I am no pirate," he whispered.

"Ah yes," Pinon remarked as if to himself. “There are those that work for the Crown and those to whom that very same Crown acquiesces.” The dark man smiled at the thought. “I find it interesting that you have requested to see this man,” haughty gaze directed itself to Sterling. “Surely he has not yet pleaded before the court, and yet has questions regarding his defense already? Why would you waste his time regarding a trial he cannot when?”

“I would hope it was made perfectly clear upon your arrival that no one, absolutely no one was to see this man without my being present,” Nimrod Pinon said as he entered the cell. Black figure emerged from the darkness, stepping into faint light. Unlike others, he was forced to duck slightly to breach door’s opening. “Why is it that no one, including such as yourself Mr. Manchester, seems not to understand this?”

feet

Meal was enjoyed and Pinon decided first time gracing McDonough's was well worth his time. As sky began to smudge away the darkness, Pinon took his leave and decided a few hours sleep would do him well. Last of the ale was downed, bill paid, yet no second look was bothered with the Devareaux that still lingered with lovely lass. He left, passing Devareaux's table, knowing well the other's interest.

**