Port Royal, Part Two

[Thomas Neede]

“I see your house is busy tonight, but...I would be willing to pay extra for our rooms, especially if by some miracle you could provide a basin of hot water. If not, cold water will do.”

"Of course, m'lady. Please follow," Thomas whispered closely. He led the pair past his office and through the back hallway. Thomas unlatched the door and covered his head against the downpour. "Just this way," he shouted over the pelting rain. They scrambled across a small courtyard to a covered walkway and a short staircase. The innkeep beckoned as his two companions looked apprehensive. He waved them forward and hurried up the stairs. Within moments, they were at his heels. Thomas fumbled for a key and easily popped the lock. He entered first and lit a candle immediately to his right. "This is my personal dwelling. Please feel free to use it as your own. Young Edward Sullivan will be dispensed momentarily with a basin of hot water." Thomas lit a few more candles and a shaded lantern closest to the bed. "I have much work to do at the Neede. I will stay there this eve." Thomas drew the flimsy curtains that hung from the windows overlooking the courtyard. "I hope this will suffice m'lady," Thomas bowed slightly. He turned to her companion, "Sir."

[Professor Angus Trilby]

Trilby continued to peer at the sleeping monster. His curiosity turned to anger, and he swung around to rail at Souris. "Ye ninny! Why did ye bring yon gargoyle to mae house? Havena always said I'm nae a doctor!"

Souris, long used to his masters outbursts, merely shrugged. "You had lots o' sick people commin' to your door lately. Didn't think dis mon any different. He hurt bad."

"Hmph! Drunk as well, I'd suspect. But I've nae medicines that would help what's been done to him." Trilby leaned in, examining the ruined face. It was hardly human, and yet...there was something, some vague memory that tugged at the back of his mind. A call to the ship Rakehell, where a man supposedly lay dieing. And had not that she-witch, Ransom, told him of a man, burned, branded and left for dead? Yet he'd never heard the man's name. Carefully, so as not to wake the sleeping guest, Trilby undid the man's weskit and shirt.

There, grisly amid the other burns on the man's body, was the brand, still raw-looking, though completely healed.

"Hounds of the deevil," Trilby whispered.

Souris stepped back, is eyes wide in his young face. "Dat not a devil hound, Master, dat the devil hisself!"

"For once, Souris, I you may be right. For I know this man tae be a murderer, and I've a niggling feeling I've met him before, a long time ago. If that be the case, then say whatever prayers ye ken, for neither God nor the deevil will stop me from rending justice. But for now, fetch me some hot water and a few cloths. We'll clean him up a bit, and then we'll make sure just who our wretched guest is, before I pass judgment and carry out the sentence. Quick now, before he wakes up!"

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

The warmth of the fire and a bottle of Madeira caused Reggie to fall into a drunken induced slumber remembering the things of his past…

The oversize coach, with its black lacquered paint, gilding, rich velvet cushions, and six black horses pulling it, swayed along the paving towards Newmarket. Reggie and Sabastian Seymour arrived at this charming village of thatched cottages and clean streets, nestled amid the lush heath land of Suffolkshire, at half past six in the evening. Outside, it was still as light as day.

Reggie stepped from the coach amid a porte cochere ringed by neatly trimmed emerald hedgerows and held out his perfumed hand to assist Sabastian from the coach. “We are at Newmarket!” He proclaimed. “Let us away to some revelry at last!”

“This is yoursss?” asked Sebastian standing awestruck before the vast brick estate nestled into greening woods.

“My family’s actually. But they do take pity on their dissoluted son in springtime and allow me the use of it.” Reggie pointed the way with his silver walking stick and presented Sebastian to the staff that stood in the starched straight line on the outside stone stairway.

“Tis very grand, indeed,” smiled Sebastian as he looked up at the entrance hall, with its gleaming black marble floors, soaring ceilings and portraits lining the walls in heavy gilded frames.

“Yes, designed to impress, like everything about the Killingsworth family.”

“Well, I am rightly impressed, Killingsworth!”

“Good,” Reggie smiled. “Now, do you wish the staff to show you to your rooms before the banquet this evening?

“Yes, of course.” Then Sebastian paused for a moment at the top of the stairs.

“Will your beautiful cousin Lady St. Claire and Mrs. McKinney be attending the banquet as well?”

“Indeed! And as rumors abound, there is even talk about Moll Davis attending as well.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened. “I do believe it is going to be a grand springtime here in Newmarket!”

The rolling green Newmarket Heath had been transformed into an exotic sheik’s harem. Lights twinkled over a canopy of red silk like stars in a summer night sky. Servants, dressed as slaves, strolled up and down bearing silver trays filled with figs and nuts and jeweled goblets of wine. The royal musicians played just beyond. Inside, the tent was lit up brightly with candles. There were two other men standing with Lady St. Claire and Sebastian. They were all standing in front of tent’s arched opening with the view of the rolling green lawns behind filled with fireflies dancing about, all of them holding full glasses of wine.

“...certainly you cannot mean that,” one said. “It’ll be so frightfully dull.”

“I mean it, entirely. You are both to b6e on your absolute best behavior,” Lady St. Claire warned. “Give me at least a chance to appear redeeming.”

“Appear, if not quite become, I hope?” Sebastian quipped.

Lady St. Claire looked up, seeing Lilly McKinney then. She smiled and held out her hand to him. “Ah, Lilly. Do join us. Gentleman, this beautiful lady is the famous Lilly McKinney, about whom you have heard so much in London. Mrs. McKinney, this is Master Sebastian Seymour, Esq.”

“It is an honor to meet such a fair prize as you, Mrs. McKinney.” Sebastian took her hand and kiss it.

“Right charmed I am to make your acquaintance, Master Seymour.” She said smiling in return. From the corner of her eye, Lilly spotted the royal person and it was then Killingsworth moved forward. “Are you enjoying the evening’s entertainment given by our most gracious king?” Lilly bit back a smile. “Oh? Is his Majesty here?” She replied with a coy smile. Reggie looked upon her soft porcelain features. “He is. And it is his custom to host many such banquets as often as twice a fortnight when he is in town.”

Lady St. Claire drained her goblet in single sip then stood next to her cousin, Reggie. “As you see Mrs. McKinney our family is very well connected, you could say. My Uncle; Reggie’s father, was a great favorite at court when His Majesty was a boy, and fortunately for us, this king is given in to strong bouts of nostalgia.”

“Is that so?” She said grabbing a fig from a near by silver platter. “His Majesty seemed quite different when I met him.”

“Royal persona.” Killingsworth said, passing another full goblet of wine to Sebastian. “Important things like war and asking Parliament for more money. Both full-time occupations, the way I hear it.” Killingsworth said blithely. “Once you come to know him here at Newmarket though, he is a very different sort altogether. You will see he is really quite tolerable human, full of all the same warts as the rest of us!’

“Speaking of warts, is he likely to bring Mrs. Davis?” Asked Sebastian as he mumbled over the rim of his goblet.

Killingsworth laughed. “I rather doubt it. The king is not known for his consistency with the fair sex. Especially not here in Newmarket, where there is an abundance of beauty and options.” And with that Killingsworth nodded his head to the ladies before him.

[Marisol de Sansal]

"I see your house is busy tonight, but...I would be willing to pay extra for our rooms, especially if by some miracle you could provide a basin of hot water. If not, cold water will do."

"Of course, m'lady. Please follow," Thomas whispered closely. He led the pair past his office and through the back hallway. Thomas unlatched the door and covered his head against the downpour. "Just this way," he shouted over the pelting rain. They scrambled across a small courtyard to a covered walkway and a short staircase. The innkeep beckoned as his two companions looked apprehensive. He waved them forward and hurried up the stairs. Within moments, they were at his heels. Thomas fumbled for a key and easily popped the lock. He entered first and lit a candle immediately to his right. "This is my personal dwelling. Please feel free to use it as your own. Young Edward Sullivan will be dispensed momentarily with a basin of hot water." Thomas lit a few more candles and a shaded lantern closest to the bed. "I have much work to do at the Neede. I will stay there this eve." Thomas drew the flimsy curtains that hung from the windows overlooking the courtyard. "I hope this will suffice m'lady," Thomas bowed slightly. He turned to her companion, "Sir."

"Oh, Mr. Neede, I did not require you to give up your private rooms. This is a most generous offer. And for the hot water, I am inclined to promote you to the status of saint." She smiled warmly at the man, grateful beyond measure. "My guardian, Ahmet, now needs to return to the derelict vessel on which we arrived, in order to retrieve the rest of our trunks before the ship sinks into the harbor. Afterwards, he will sleep on a pallet by the door, which he has done for many years in my service."

She stepped forward, and placed a pale, graceful hand on Mr. Neede's arm. "Truly, you have been most kind, and I will be most generous in compensation, and to make up for my previous rudness."

[Thomas Neede]

Thomas shook his head slowly and smiled. "My lady, I am but six months removed from my place overseas. Nouveau dans la ville, if you will. I only wish to make you comfortable during your stay. No better payment could be recieved than good word spread throughout Port Royal." He cleared his throat as if boast his next statement, "I have a few dealings in town where a carriage may be procured should you find it warranted. Sir, Ahmet," Thomas turned to her guardian. The large man bowed slightly and Thomas continued, "If you would like to join me, I have some business to take care of on the docks at this late hour. Ma'am." Thomas watched the exchange and excused himself again. He stepped down the stairs slowly knowing that the Turk would be behind him. The innkeep raised the small lantern as he hurried through the rain now falling in the courtyard once again. When he reached the back door of the Neede, he left the door unlatched and called for Sully to fetch some sundrys and hot water for the lady across the way. Edward nodded and scurried into the back rooms of the inn.

[Professor Angus Trilby]

Souris, standing well back, pointed at the strange man. "Whot be wrong with him?"

Trilby, busy washing the man's wounds, barked, "Dreaming of hell, I ken. Nae doubt he'll end up there soon enough."

"I tink da fires of dat dark place already touched him. He look burnt as a roasted pig." Souris peered closer. "What dat brand mean? I never seen it before."

"Nor hae I, but I nae think he got it for good behavior. Here now, make yourself useful and bring me that salve from the study. Quick, blast ye, before this monster wakes up."

While Souris scooted off to the study, Trilby took a length of rope and tied the man's hands and feet. "Best tae play it safe. He may wake and think I'm one of the deevil's minions he's dreaming aboot." Then Trilby paused and smiled. "Which, I weel be, if he's the man I ken he is."

Souris returned with the salve, and Trilby finished his work. Then the two stood back and waited for the strange, disfugured man to wake up.

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

(still in dream state...Killingsworth lingers between dream and memory)....

Lady St. Claire waited impatiently in the dressing rooms of Reginald Killingworth's private apartments at university, summoned there by him, then left alone. With a bobbed curtsy, the maidservant told her that Master Killingsworth was preparing to leave for York but would be with her presently.

In the next room, just beyond the closed heavily carved doors, she could hear Killingsworth along with several of the Head Master's staff whispering then raising their voices in disapproval. With a sigh, she realized that her new shoes were too tight, her feet hurt and she was angry that Reggie would dare to keep her waiting like this. Oh, there was a time, not so long ago, when he would seek her counsel, ask of her the deepest of confidences, for they were partners in all things.

Now, apparently, she was to consider it a great fortune to be summoned like a servant!

After more than half an house, the heave carved-oak doors were pulled open, the conversation faded as Killingsworth strode through, hands linked behind his back. Lady St. Claire was reminded in that instant, as the sun gleamed through the wall of windows, the bright light hitting his face, what a fine man he became. He radiated confidence, sensuality oozed from him. A man of his upbringing and power could make a mark on the world.

She stood regally, every bit the noblewoman, in a dress of deep claret brocade, as the doors were closed by the maidservant and Killingsworth approached her, his heals echoed across the parquet flooring. Yes, she knew something was wrong and mostly likely it was about a girl – another pathetic serving wench, of all things – and that he had brought her to his apartments here at University, as she was sure that he had done with Jenny, the dairy maid, back at the manor house.

Reggie held both of her arms above the elbow in a play of sincerity, then kissed her cheek. "It is good to see you again, dear cousin, "he said, the strain between them now a palpable thing.

"Is it?"

"Of course, it is. But I shall come straight to the point."

"Please do."

"I am leaving for York within the hour –"

"Yes, so I've heard."

"While I am gone, I wish you to organize and assist in the evacuation of my apartments here at University."

For the first time in many years, something of the real Lady St. Claire bled through. "You're leaving? But the semester is not over with and your father will most likely be.."

"Please do not make this any more difficult than it is."

Her eyes narrowed. "Do you honestly believe that I would make this moment easy for you, Reggie? That after all these years of higher education and grooming yourself to take over your father's estate, I would simply let you pack up and walk away from your glorious future? Good Lord Reggie, tell me, please, this is not about some lowly maidservant.

He eyes were angry now, his exp​ression closed to her. "Stop it, Sarah.

"Stop what?" Reminding you of your silly little exploits, of how your bad choices in women have brought shame to your family name. Did you not think I knew?! She put her hands on his face to make him look at her.

"…and what of her, Reggie? Now that you have your new jade to chase and woo…what will become of her after you become bored with this one? Will you toss her out like some used-up old tavern whore?"

"Your mouth is as foul and tiresome as....!"

"Now there is a great irony! You will open your bedchamber door to the lowest of women, and you are telling me what is foul?!"

Reggie slapped her hard across the face –harder, she saw by his exp​ression, than he had meant to. Her hand went up to strike him in return, but he caught her by the wrist until she jerked her hand free.

"So it has come to this?" He whispered to her. "I ask you for your help...Please help me."

"Are the rumors true, Reggie? Did you kill her?"

"I must leave, Sarah. Know only this. It was not me."

Edited August 31, 2009 by Reginal S. Killingsworth

[Ian Finn]

Liam had me rowin' for wot seemed like hours. We went all th' way round Fort James an' jus' passed th' North Docks when I broke out th' bottle Mister Neede gave us back at his Inn. "Bluddy 'ell Ian, your makin' too much noise, goin' t' get us seen an' all," Liam said. "Mind yerself bruddah. You got me worked up a sweat ans I need a drink." "You'll get a drink when we get ashore," Liam growled. I huffed and stuffed the cork back in the bottle and stuck it in our bag. We passed the turtle crawles and wove our way around the big fat merchantmen waiting to unload by the warehouses. "YOU THERE!" called someone down to us. We heard a click and I thought it to be a musket. I ducked low 'tween the thwarts an' tried to row to th' crawles. Liam wanted to keep goin past them. Our boat spun in a circle wit' one of us rowin' one way and the other, the other. Liam punched me and pushed me off the seat. "Stay down you whoreson." I kicked him hard and he yelped. He kicked me back and we heard a shot go off. A small spray hit near the stern of the dinghy and Liam rowed faster towards Chocaleta Hole.

[Ransom]

Ioan watched the exotic woman leave the common room with Mr. Neede, her spicy perfume lingering, and suddenly had no more interest in the card game. His fellow warehouse workers were extremely drunk — one had passed out and fallen to the floor — so skill was no longer required to win a hand. Ioan tossed his remaining cards on the table, scooped up his meager winnings, and stood up to leave. He felt safer now that the two Irish boys had left without recognizing him, but used caution when he stepped out the door, just in case they were loitering in the lane.

There was nothing but the usual nighttime activity. The rain had stopped, but had done little to wash away the stench and filth. Wrinkling his nose, Ioan walked back to his small rented room, the image of the strange woman lingering within his mind. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and he was determined to win her respect and admiration. Oh, he knew what she was, and that he didn't earn enough money in a year to pay for one night with her, but that wasn't his goal. He wanted her to give him, out of desire, what he couldn't afford to pay for in coin.

He was so absorbed with these thoughts that he forgot about his unseen, but always present, watchers. However, they had not forgotten about him.

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

Blurry-eyed and still drowsy from his dream state, Reggie slowly stirred from his disturbing dream. Started to find a bisketed faced man staring back at him through silver rimmed spectacles, he jerked back into the leather Chair. “Where the blazes am I? And who the hell are you?” Reggie asked still disoriented from the night’s excitement. The old man narrowed his eyes and looked back at this stranger.

[Thomas Neede]

Thomas collected a few things from his office for the short trip to the wharf to investigate Lady Ana's proposition and the Resurrection. He left the Neede and found the streets were still busy even at this late hour filled with all of those ilk likely to be drunken stumbling about in Port Royal's city proper.

Thomas turned to west and followed the shoppes along the waterfront. Darkness had firmly planted itself within the town save for the few candles lit within windows. Music and singing rolled into the streets as he furthered himself along toward the Admiralty Court. A pistol shot would erupt once ever so while, but Thomas had begun to notice this as a regular occurrence and it brought him no alarm. As he made his way towards the docks, it was necessary to pose questions to the urchins scampering about to find Lady Ana's berth. A few coins lighter, Thomas found himself standing astern of the Resurrection. He cupped his hands and called aloud to anyone on board, "Hello, Captain?"