Black Nate

Nate was happy that the sun was on the rise. He'd be able to dry off his wet clothes once the sun shone strong and bright, as the morning light promised. Luckily his only other set of clothes were mostly dry from the trip to the Rakehell. He'd been allowed some sleep after they righted the ship and slowly made their way around the lake. Nate mumbled to himself as he came on deck. "Father, tis a fine day ya bringin fourth, show us kindly to a town so we might get wot th capin needs an be back on th open sea." He stood at the rail and looked forward, hoping to see something other than an overgrown shoreline. Nate heard the order to trim sails and ambled barefoot to one of the pinrails. He loosed a line and with the help of others hauled in the sail, trimming it up. Nate made the line fast and coiled up the overflow, hanging it on the pin. The sun rose higher and the heat rose, some mist burned off the water but the humidity only got worse. Nate mopped his head with his neckcloth, already damp with sweat. Walked over to the open water barrel and dipped up a drink. Colard hobbled up right after and gave a ragged smile. Nate handed him the dipper and as the old salt drank asked him something. "You know these waters, aye? Wot's capin have in mind fer us ere?"

Nate grinned his wild grin and began to laugh as Colard Sang his praise. He stopped as the capin made it known that he were to report to her cabin, once in dry clothes. Nate followed the other down into the ship and hauled his bag and weapons along with him. Before Nate looked to see if his other clothes were dry he shared the dram o rum with the others, let the warmth come from inside first, he thought. He raised his dram as he looked to his mates, stopping on Red Cat. "Father says he weren't gonna leave us out there all night, wish he'd a said somthin about not getting wet too! Well, all in one piece is fine wit me!" Nate drained his rum and let out a laugh, clapping Colard on the back and smiled at his soggy companions. "Best get outta these here wet things, catch yer death, even in this muggy place." Nate sat and pulled off his shoes, followed by his stockings and began to ring them out into a bucket close by.

Nate grinned his wild grin again for a minute before composing himself. "Well, I ain't perfectly sure, but I was hopin ta cripple the ship, ye knows, shoot th rudder chains. But I missed. I tink I fire that double shot inta th stern windows. Soooo, that would be th capin's cabins that got holed." Nate's eyes bugged out as he kept himself from laughing out loud. He again composed himself. "Though truthfully it were an accident. th commodore gave orders to hold fire, an when the anchor cable were cut I lost me balance an dropped th slowmatch. An th rest, well. . . ."

Nate got the shattered longboat to the ladder on the side of the Rakehell and steadied it as Red Cat and Roberts boarded. Nate handed up wot was left of all their belongings and then followed. All three of them looked like drowned rats, although Nate was the driest of the three. Even though the Rakehell had tried to sink them, Nate was pleased ta be back aboard. As capin Ransom and the big moore walked over, Nate grinned at them and saluted. "Happy ta see everyone in one piece, Ma'am. Th commodore sent us to ye, well, sent Red Cat n Roberts ta tell ye somethin, an me ta just get rid o me on account I accidentally blasted a hole in that spanish ship." In the dark Nate couldn't read capin Ransom's face, but he could see the scowl on that of Africa's. Nate's grin faded some, but he was still happy to be back aboard the Rakehell.

When the longboat was struck wit roundshot, in just the right place, she started to break up. Nate grabbed for all his worldly posessions. "Bloody Hell! Not again!" Someone went into the water. Nate dropped his kit and steadied wot was left of the longboat and peered into the darkness. He saw the stern of the longboat moving away! "Oi! Wot gives? Cat! Roberts! You been hit?" Nate heard a sputterin sound over yonder, so he took up his sweeps and worked what was left of the boat towards the sound. "I's comin! I's comin!" Soon as he were close enough Nate reached out and grabbed hold of whomever it was. Had to be Red Cat, Roberts was much bigger than her. "Red Cat, I gots ya, I gots ya. . . ." He pulled her into the bow and let her catch her breath. "Oi! Roberts! You out there?" Nate heard a muffled Oi from yonder and took up his sweeps and got the shattered boat over to where he heard it. There was Roberts in waist deep brackish water with the stern of the longboat. "You hurt?" Roberts pulled his dagger out of his mouth to answer. "Not so far as I knows, bloodied mu mouth is all." Nate shook his head. Get on outta th water, there still be enough room in wots left, stay in th bow, keep th aft end up." Roberts grabbed the side and hauled himself aboard, almost tipping the shattered boat. Once all was quiet again and the three of them had squared away, Nate chuckled. "I guess they knows we's here." All three of them chuckled. Nate carefully stood and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Ahoy th Rakehell! Tis ol' Nate, Red Cat, n Roberts come ta see wot become o ye!" They waited and no more shots were fired at them and a lantern was lit on the stern of the ship. "I guess that means we can come aboard, I hope." Nate got himself set and took up his sweeps, only one other remained so Roberts knelt in the bow and rowed as best he could towards the light.

It were gettin' dark and Nate wondered if they'd find the Rakehell before too long. Red Cat had the only eyes forward as Nate and Roberts were pulling the sweeps. And if the Schooner's captain was hiding, no lights would be lit on deck making it harder ta see. Nate grumbled to himself. "Father, I'm not wantin ta spend a night in this backwater in an open boat, show us our ship, I beg o ye." In the dim light Nate could see Red Cat peering out into the ever darkening marsh and backwater. Nate was about to make a second appeal to heaven when she suddenly stood. Nate and Roberts stopped pulling and looked at the Red Cat. Sitting back down, she grinned at them. "Keep pullin, the Rakehell's just up a ways." Nate grinned his wild grin and began pulling for al he was worth. Thank ye Father. . . . I knew ye weren't leavin ol' Nate and his friends out this night."

Nate pulled the sweeps for a bit by himself and finally quit a moment to turn and stare back at Roberts. "Mister Roberts, you plan on pullin yer set o sweeps some time afore we find th Rakehell? Miss Red Cat here be in command an I don't remember you ta be comin aboard as a passenger." Nate waited to hear Red Cat pipe up, or Roberts argue back. He was rewarded with another scowl from Roberts who finally took a proper seat and grabbed a set of sweeps. All he could guess was some unspoken thing went between the Red Cat and Roberts. Nate called out a rhythm and soon they were gliding along the brackish waters again, but much faster this time. With Roberts at his back and Red Cat on the tiller, Nate grinned at her as he pulled along. He began to sing a shanty in time, but the Cat gave him a look and shook her head, stopping him. "Bit o stealth might not be a bad thing when we come upon the Rakehell, or someone else." She said in a low voice. Nate winked and gave her a knowing look and bent his back to the task.

Nate cocked his head at the remark from the commodore about the brig on the galleon might be bigger. He muttered to himself, but loud enough for Red Cat to hear, "Alla my crew be special ta me, might be a favour ta ol' Nate if th spanish caught him, Father, fergive im fer he knows not wot he says." Nate breathed in and out a hiss. "Wot say we get a move on back ta th Rakehell, My Captain will want ta know wot become of us." Nate grabbed up the sweep Silkie had discarded and another and dumped the blades in the water, taking a powerful pull and pulled the line free of the Relentless. In between pulls Nate managed more words, not sure if they were loud enough ta be heard on deck, "Bon Voyage commodore! Best o luck wit them there spanish! If ya needs any assistance, send us a note an we'll sees wot we can accomodate ya wot fer! Ah-ree-ve-derchee! Sah!" Roberts glared at Nate for a time, Red Cat tried not to laugh at the scene as she tucked the tiller under her arm.

Nate arrived on deck amidst an interesting scene. He was armed to the teeth, pistol, musket and cutlass, along with all his worldly belongings in a sack over his shoulder. Nate missed whatever conversation had already happened between the commodore and a man Nate vaguely recognized. Whatever had been said must have been a shock, seeing the look on some of the faces on deck. Nate didn't really want to know, he just wanted to get over the side and into the boat, off to find the Rakehell. He mumbled under his breath to himself, "Father, deliver me from this place, this place of great consternation."

Commodore Tar and Roberts headed topside, so Nate was left with Red Cat standing there. Both were left to wonder wot was ta happen. Soon after Roberts lumbered back down and straight over to Nate and removed the irons. "Thank ya Sah, do this mean we's leavin soon?" Roberts narrowed his eyes and took Nate by the front of his jacket. "You best watch yerself, Captain Tar is sendin Me along wit you an the Cat here, off ta find the Rakehell. Oy, Red Cat! Captain wants ta speak wit you, got a message ta send ta captain Ransom." Red Cat put a wry grin on her face and headed topside. Nate spoke up. "Aye Sah, I'll watch mself, as does our Father. If you'll be so kind as ta unhand me, I'll go gather me belongins and meet ya topside, Sah." Roberts dropped Nate like a stone and watched him tug his jacket into place, salute him and head to the berth where his belongings and weapons were. Roberts gave a heavy sigh and shook his head, Nate was humming and singing again. He wiped the sweat off his brow and headed to the deck.

Nate was sitting there, humming when his ears pricked up to the sound of Red Cats voice. He sat and watched and listened as she, Jacky and then Roberts began talking about him and wot they was gonna do. Nate would be pleased as punch ta be off this ship, out of the irons and back to the Rakehell. He listened and didn't complain when they said ol' Nate was daft. Little did they know how far from the truth that was. Nate grinned to the heavens and thought about rowing away from all this with Red Cat. Off to the Schooner wot he called home.

All Nate could do was wait until things settled down, if they would at all. As he took in his surroundings, Nate found a place to sit and lean back. Once he was comfortable he turned his mind back to what had just happened. He grinned to himself thinking about the two iron shot he had fired, even if by accident. Nate did quite well with that cannon. He didn't see what damage had been done to the spaniard, but he heard them land true enough. Nate hoped if broadsides were to be traded and the fight brought on, someone would release him to join in the fight. But what to do until that time, or whenever someone came to fetch him? Shifting himself around, Nate got as comfortable as he could and began to hum a tune, occasionally murmuring a word of the lyrics. His eyes closed and he continued humming and singing to himself.

Nate was lucky the recoiling cannon hadn't run him over when it fired. But for his trouble he had crashed into the next cannon in line and his right knee suffered for it. The commodore had come below with a foul attitude, understandably so. Nate stood at attention as he was berated and ordered clapped in irons which took him aback some. The commodore headed topside and Mister Dillard took hold of Nate's arm roughly at first. Nate gave him a sobering look of calm. "No need ta be rough Sah. Commodore's of a mind that I don't understand nor would I pretend to. Lead on Sah, lead on." Dillard softened his grip and Nate took a step, his right knee in pain. Nate pulled up the leg of his slops and saw a fine gash and trickle of blood. Dillard tugged him along and he let his slops go and was escorted to what served as a brig on the Relentless and was clapped in irons. As Dillard left Nate he heard the Irishman voice some words to heaven. "Well Father, dunno wot yer intendin fer ol' Nate, but I trust Ye. I jus want back on me own ship."

Nate was about to fire a well aimed cannon at the galleon when the order to hold fire came from the commodore. Dillard grabbed Nate by the collar and pulled him back. "Wot ya do that fer, I hear th commodore!" Nate went to put his hand on the overhead when the anchor cable was cut. The Relentless lurched and Nate went flailing, dropping the slowmatch right on the cannon. *KaBoom!* it went sending the double shot towards the galleon. The aim had been thrown off, but not by much as the iron balls crashed into the spaniard.

Nate were about to tell commodore Tar to 'stuff his roundshot up his arse' as he was not actually his crew, but a crewman of captain Ransom on loan. Nate was cut short when he was near jerked off his feet by Roberts and hauled below. Orders were given and belayed as another ship hove into view. It were a galleon of spanish make. "Bloody hell, Father! Oh, ah, eh heh, sorry. Mister Roberts Sah! Roundshot ta fire pon th spanish, sah? Double shot n powder?" Nate saw Roberts say something but the sound of close cannon fire drowned it out, Nate grabbed gun tools and powder and started loading up the beast of a cannon before him, double powder and stuffed two iron balls down the muzzle. The Rakehell was under attack by that galleon, and was soon to come under attack from the Relentless, unless someone stopped ol' Nate. He began speaking in tongues, well actually in gaelic at a loud volume and punctuating what he was doing by pointing heavenward here and there.

Nate stood a bit longer dumbfounded and thought to himself, 'Father, th commodore gone mad! Only reason I can think he'd do such a thing. I seen th way they looked at each other at times back in Habana, but maybe they had a hell of a spat back there that I don't know about. She be th capin I signed on wit. Wot does I do Father?!?!' Nate cleared his throat. "R-round shot, Sah?"

Nate was surprised at wot the commodore ordered, shooting at his consort ship. Aye it were only a warning shot over the bow, but for what purpose? Nate didn't know what conspired between the ship captains, but it were almost as if they acted like an old married couple grousing at each other. Nate thought this were a good thing, the reunion of the two ships and in a hopefully friendlier port. But now that more guns were readied he wasn't sure. Looking skyward he held his palms up. "Did I thank ya too soon, Father? Aye? Ya wantin me ta ask him? Ya don't already know? Aye Father, if I must. . . ." Nate squared his shoulders and marched to where the commodore stood, snapped a smart salute. "Commodore Sir, Are we meanin ta sink th Rakehell, or take er as a prize? Jus need ta know wot shot ta bring out."

Nate shifted and rubbed the back of his neck. The hairs there felt like they were standin on end and he didn't like it one bit. Looking about the deck he saw everyone so busy keeping the ship in trim and watching the land get closer. Nate put his eyes over the side and looked out to sea. The hair on his neck jumped out again as he spied sails well over the horizon. Now this were a port so seeing sails approach were nothing unusual, but for some reason when he looked at those coming toward them, he felt something. She were a schooner rig and Nate grinned his wild grin, it had to be the Rakehell. "Thank ya Father. . . . "

Nate made to look busy tending lines and sail as the ship navigated up the river to whee this port was. Nate kept his eyes open and took in all around him off of the ship. "This ship ain't meant t be no river scow. Father, I don't like this." Nate wiped his brow with his neckerchief and pulled a line tight before securing it. The man on the lead line was tossing the lead vigorously and calling out the depth just as quick. twice now they had to make rapid course adjustments to avoid running aground. Commodore Tar had more sail bent on to compensate for running against the flow if the river to maintain so movement, but steerage was still very light. Nate looked back to see the man on the wheel struggling to put the Relentless where the commodore wanted her.

Nate was happy working along side Red Cat. It were hard to keep the grin off his face, not only for the company, but for the fact they were heading in to a more hospitable port than Habana proved to be. It were no time at all that they were easing their way at about two knots. Some skinny lad were in the bow tossing the lead and calling out the depth. Nate wasn't sure what the Relentless drew, but by his guess they had a good amount of sea room, still about two mile from shore. Hands were called to cat the bower so Nate made his way forward, the Red Cat at his side.

Nate watched Red CAt walk away from him, twer a fine site that. His grin slowly disappeared as his stomach growled, the small amount of porridge did not satisfy and the smell of the bacon on Red Cat's plate made his mouth water. No, 'ol Nate was not gonna have any o her food, even though she offered. But the smell was so, so good. Nate licked his lips and gave in. Taking one piece of bacon he held it up and inhaled the scent before taking a bite. "Oh, Father, tis heaven. . . . Ol' Nate'll take th wrath o th cook for more o this." He smiled and closed his eyes as he chewed the bacon, tossed the rest of the piece in his mouth and hummed out a sound of content.

Nate slurped up his porridge, hungry for more seeing as his tankard was only one ladle full of the stuff. He wanted to go back and get more, but he wasn't sure he wanted to face the new cook again this morning. Nate also was desperate for coffee. Giving a sour look to the heavens, Nate heaved a sigh and set his shoulders, heading back to the galley. Amidst some shouting and cursing, Nate returned topside with a full tankard of coffee mixed with the dregs of porridge and another knot on his head.

The sound of the Bosun call woke ol' Nate and he rolled out of his hammock, stretched and shook all over. "Aye! Risen shine me boys!" Nate pulled on his jacket and gear and made his way topside and was directed to the galley. Nate stood in line rubbing sleep out of his eyes like many others. He heard loud shrieks in spanish ahead, it sounded like a womans voice. Some crew hustled out of the galley with various amounts of food and drink, some rubbed their heads, others their knuckles. His eyes shot skyward and Nate mumbled to himself. Nate got into the galley and there was a woman, a spanish woman to be sure serving out the meal with a scowl. When it was his turn Nate smiled and waited. She turned to him with a full ladle of porridge. Nate only had a tankard and was looking for the coffee when she dumped the slop into his tankard. "Wot ye doin? I was goin ta put coffee in there!" Up went the ladle and down it came on his head. Nate ducked a second swing and retreated out of the galley.

Back aboard and working th lines and sheets, Nate kept to himself as best he could in the wee hours of the morning. Once the ship was trimmed up well, Nate was given leave to head below and sleep while he had the chance. Back in his hammock, it took no time for him to fall into a deep sleep, hoping he would not suffer any nightmares. He still saw the faces of his crewmates from the Eliza swimming in the darkness once in awhile.

Nate made his way over the side and into the waiting boat. Checking the sweeps and being satisfied in the darkness that they were sound he waited for others to join him in the jolly boat. A shadow loomed over the side and then over the rail and down into the boat. "Smithe is it? Nate Durant. Take up the sweeps wit me so we can get th' anchor, if ye please." Smithe looked at him and grumbled before taking up the sweeps. Both men pulled the jolly boat to the bow and the anchor was lowered and made fast to the boat. Orders given and they pulled out into the harbor until the order was shouted to let her loose. This was repeated many times until they were free of Habana. Nate wondered wot lay ahead on board as well as who or wot might be encountered.