Pyrates of the West Coast

[Dorian Lasseter]

::Mr. Lasseter's eyebrows went up...::

Right then... follow me if ye please...

::Dorian stepped back to let the french sailor gain the deck, then turned and walked toward the stern. He stepped into the companionway and back to the door of the room he had just left.... he paused a moment before knocking... he turned and addressed the man...::

I do beg yer pardon, but I'll have ye wait a moment in my quarters... need ta make sure th' Cap'n's ready for you... If you'll be so kind...

::Steped over and opened the door to his quarters and motioned the man inside... with a slightly exasperated look he stepped in and Dorain closed the door, as he did so he thanked the man...::

Merci...

::Turning back to the wardroom door, he knocked and entered, he crossed the room and leaned over near Willaim and whispered...::

I have th' man sent from Le Requiem in m'quarters... somat urgent from Leftenant Lemaire... figured not ta have an issue by bringin' 'im directly in... least til Mr. Flint... is out...

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Bill sat and considered his options for a moment. He really had nowhere to go and no home to call his own. Better here as a citizen of nowhere than to be continually forced to answer to some unseen royalty whims. He stood slowly so as not to spook the man at his back. He cleared his throat.

"If'n it pleases ya Cap'n I'd like te stay on wit ye. There be nutin' fer me ner Nathan back in New England. Also if'n tis not so much te ask of ye, could we sees aboot Henry? He'd gladly serve ye til we can get 'im back to a British ship. If'n ye've nutin' else fer me Cap'n I should like te return te the surgery and see to Nathan."

[William Brand]

"Thank you, Mister Flint. I will do what I can for your imprisoned man. You are dismissed. When you are through in the surgery you are welcome to join those asleep below. I may call for you later if I should have need of you in regards to Henry."

"Thank you, sar."

William waited for him to go before addressing the Master-at-Arms.

"Mister Pew, please inform Mister Badger and Mister Youngblood that Bill Flint will be staying on. Tell Mister Youngblood that I shall have Bill tested tomorrow at one of the great guns after we have left port. I should like to confirm his training in that matter. Also, see that they have adequate for their needs in regards to hammocks, footlockers and the like. We'll not be here soon enough again for any special goods."

"Aye, sah."

"Mister Lasseter, you may invite in the waiting gentleman."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aye cap'n...

:: Dorian headed out and to his quarters, where he knocked and opened the door... The frenchman turned to the opening...::

Cap'n will see you now...

::He held the door open and gestured for the man to head into the wardroom. He did so, and Dorian followed, shutting the door behind him...::

This is th' man sent by Leftenant Lamaire.... Monsieur?

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Marat removed the large brimmed hat and gave rigid salut to the man seated at table's head.

"Capitaine au Cannonnier Jacques-Patrik Marat, Capitaine Hollande. Lieutenant Lamaire has sent me to relay dispatch of urgent nature, if you wish for privacy I can wait."

[William Brand]

"Privacy? Non. Mister Lasseter may hea..." William paused. "Actually, Mister Lasseter, depending on the specific nature of this message I may need you to wait outside if you don't mind."

"I'll go above."

"Thank you Mister Lasseter."

William and Marat waited as Mister Lasseter exited, not through the companionway door, but by way of the stairs leading directly to the quarterdeck. When they were quite alone, William gestured to a chair as he took a seat himself.

"If you will, sir..." William prompted.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

"Merci, Capitaine Hollande.", he said taking indicated placement.

"Lieutenant Lamaire wishes you to know that there is an agent of the Roi currently in Capitaine Fournier's chambers. Thus far Capitaine Fournier has redirected any suspition away from yourself and crew, but the Monsieur is most insistant about some of your newly aquired hands. The Lieutenant wishes that you may wish to prepare to slip La Margarita before dawn and head for the safety of La Blanquilla. Preperations should not be obvious in nature and if flight is warranted, a signal shall be raised at Le Requiem's bow. He passes this to you with much concern."

[William Brand]

William pressed his fingers together a moment and was lost in silent thought. After a time, he stood up, and going to his own room he fetched up his cane, hat and a pistol. He brushed off the shoulder of his coat at a small mirror hung by the doorway before opening the door from the Ward Room.

"Monsieur Marat, please accompany me to Le Requiem."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

William pressed his fingers together a moment and was lost in silent thought. After a time, he stood up, and going to his own room he fetched up his cane, hat and a pistol. He brushed off the shoulder of his coat at a small mirror hung by the doorway before opening the door from the Ward Room.

"Monsieur Marat, please accompany me to Le Requiem."

The Master Gunner looked momentarily startled at William's request then nodded with uncertainty while gaining his feet.

"Oui, Capitaine Hollande..."

[William Brand]

William strode out into the lamplight of the gundeck. He was armed with sword and pistol, but also resolve. He sent for the giant of a man, Simon Powell and asked Mister Pew to fetch two pistols and a cutlass for the him.

Monsieur Marat looked nervous and uncertain. William gave him a friendly smile as the Quartermaster joined them at the waist.

"I have business aboard Le requiem, Mister Lasseter." William offered before he could ask. "A situation calls for my personal attention. Otherwise Fournier's messengers will grow weary of the traffic."

"Very goode, Cap'n."

"Please see that all final preparations are made in my absence for what may be an immediate departure. No need to wake the resting watch. I'll want them fresh for use when the time comes."

Simon was on the deck almost immediately and William was reassured by his stature at once. He had yet to see the man in a fight, but he knew that the height of the man went a long way towards intimidation.

"Cap'n."

"Yes, Mister Powell. It seems that your last duty to me aboard this ship will be to accompany me on a rather delicate and diplomatic mission."

"Sah...?"

William smiled his broad and dangerous smile, patting the gentle giant's arm. "Don't worry, Mister Powell. I have never been delicate or diplomatic." This statement went a long way to worrying Simon even more and Marat seemed none to pleased either. The arrival of the pistols and cutlass did little either to reassure the two men.

"Thank you, Mister Pew. Mister Lasseter, I shall return in short order. You have the deck."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Marat pulled the hat's brim lower in front and brought his two companions to where the corvette slept. His mind was a thousand things at once and what would be an aftermath to this little visitation was making the Master Gunner queasy; which was not common to his nature at the least.

Gaining her decks, Marat spoke quietly to another officer, who in turn retreated hastily belowdecks. It was a fleet of time before he returned with Lieutenant Lamaire at his heels. The officer fell off as Dominique continued on to the trio's standing. His face was a mixture of question and concern as he centered on William and spoke just above whisper.

"Capitaine Hollande, this is not a good place to be at current..."

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Thank you, Mister Pew.  Mister Lasseter, I shall return in short order.  You have the deck."

::Mr. Lasseter's lips curled into a smile as he walked with authority to the bow watch, he whispered among the men there, giving them orders to reconfigure the bow lines for a quick departure, and the handsignals he would use to loose them, and when that was done the orders to loosen sails... He then made his way aft, again whispering to the watches he came across, giving them their orders... He did this all the way around the ship, keeping it all quiet so as not to alarm anyone unnecessarily... finally he came back to the waist where Mr. Pew stood...::

Mr. Pew... I must retrieve somethin' from m'quarters... I shall return post-haste...

::with a nod he headed below, into his quarters and pulled the two Dragoon pistols from his sea chest checked and loaded them, shoved them into his belt and returned to the deck...::

[William Brand]

William asked for an audience, no, all but demanded it, careful not to insult Lamaire or presume he had more power than he deserved on Fournier's ship. William was persistant at once in a way that was less patient than his usual self. Still, it was something more in his eyes that made Lamaire escort him at once into the waiting company seated in the Ward Room. Lamaire imagined he himself looked the same before many a duel

William closed the distance to Gaultier almost at once, coming within half an arms length of the man. "You wished to see me, Monsieur?"

Gaultier, who had arisen at once, was at a loss for words a moment and William plowed into him with a practiced anger that was a two edged sword of careful tone and reckless abandon.

"You have a strange way of asking for an audience of me, going hat in hand to my friends in an effort to besmirch my reputation based on half guessed assumptions of my character. You must think me a very idle Captain to remain in the cloistered security of my cabin while you spill poison of me in buckets upon a table more noble than your own."

Gaultier looked stricken by the accusation, not because it wasn't true, but because the audacity was more than he had been shown in many years and he was thoroughly unprepared for such a broadside of words.

"Monsieur...!"

"CAPITAINE, if you please...you ungrateful cur. Never has my hospitality been so quickly set aside for treachery. No man sups at the table of my generosity only to use that fuel I fed him with to start fires in my house!"

William produced the Letter of Marque at once, snapping it open with a single flick of his wrist.

"This document, while written in English, was penned in French ink, blood and trust. Will you dispute the claim of it?"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Fournier rose from his seating and just stood there; Lamaire having no direction from his cousin, stood in open doorway; and Chanault's sphinx-like nature was cracked by the hint of smile.

Jean-Micheale's mind raced as to what action should be taken. The agent currently in threat by William could be a danger to them all and everything seemed to freeze in time. There would be only one way to right this, one way alone.

Leaving the company of high backed chair, Fournier crossed to where antagonist and protagonist stood and placed a hand on William's shoulder. The disturbance brought a company of marin numbering four to the door and Fournier gestured to have Gaultier escorted to quarters.

[William Brand]

As Gaultier left the company of the room William relaxed, shedding the monster for the man almost at once.

"My sincerest apologies, Capitaine. I would have not declared war on this minor man within these halls...but some things must be answered at once before they grow by inaction. This creature...this play-actor of a person was on my ship...and pretended great need of shelter there. I've had my share of that."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Fourinier replied quietly, "I understand..."

He reached to the decanter on table surface and filled a wanting glass, in turn handing it to William. Waving to Lamaire to secure the door, the Capitaine looked to William gravely.

"This leaves me only one option...That man can never leave this ship..."

[William Brand]

William removed his hat and sipped his drink. William was a little surprised at this death knell pronounced over Gaultier.

"The man has insulted a servant of the King of France, but only in the performance of his duty in believing that man an enemy of the King. He thought I was against France. Does this marque not show that I am for it and in the favor thereof. Can it not be made clear to the gentleman, that despite his blunder, the Watch Dog is no enemy of France. You are such an accomplished man of words. Surely the man's life, as worthless as it is, need not be forfeit."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

"It is not you he seeks, ami. I have seen to that already, but there are those that were in his company that he thirsts for and it is a thirst not readily quenched. If I do not interceed in this manner and word gets back to the wrong authorities, we could all hang. It is one life to bargin for many..."

Fournier paused to eye his friend with sincerity.

"He wants those men turned over into custody, he demands that I take action to procure them...Do You understand, William? The options do not exist and I know that you would not turn those men over any sooner than I would one of mine own."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgery

The battered man had been tended to and had not proven to be in as ill condition as first suspected, though his ribs had been wraped tightly due to suspicion of minor fracture. With dressings secured and ointment applied to various facial abrasions, Tempest returned attention to her other charge.

Nathan had woken from laudnum induced slumber to still be hazy with its' charms. The fever had dissipated its' hold minutely and his color was still of dissatisfactory hue, but he had requested something to eat and she held it to be a good sign. A bowl of mild broth was ordered from the Galley and sat cooling on low stool near Nathan's cot.

The Surgeon had taken the support of familliar high backed chair beside Nathan and broth ladden stool, attention trading betwixt the man and temperature of waiting meal. A calm had come over him, a welcome change over the aggitation of before, and though in weakened state, he offered small conversation in his Colonial way.

Judging the broth's temp to have cooled to comfortable consumption, she offered aid in navigation of spoon from bowl to awaiting appetite and smiled with encouragement to her charge. It was in mid-travel of spoon's flight, that a soft knock was heard from heavy door.

[Cut-throat]

Johnson kept watch aboard the Dog as was his duty. The hasty exit of the Captain raised his curiosity ten folds. Nicholas watched as William left the ship in the able hands of Mister Lasseter. As Dorian whispered his orders to the crew, Johnson simply nodded his head non-challantly as not to draw any unnecessary attention.

Mister Lasseter conversed with Mister Pew, then retreated below deck. Within an instant, Dorian returned adorned with twin Dragoon pistols. Johnson's squinted right eye widened in quiet excitement. Action. Or merely the possibility of it caused Nicholas' anticipation to grow.

Leaving his position at the swivel gun mounted railing, Johnson approached Dorian respectfully.

" Mister Lasseter, sir. I couldn't help but notice the two fancy little additions to yer' attire. I be wonderin' if'n I would be in need o' a fashion upgrade as well ? "

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Bill looked into the infirmary and saw Nathan resting comfortably. He was carrying on with the surgeon as she fed him some broth. He took this to be a very good sign. The sudden nature of Nathans illness made Bill wonder though. He had seemed fine when Bill had found them earlier in the day, and then the fever just seemed to take hold. Strange that Jonas was not ailing in a like manner for he had found them together. He thought further back and remembered that several of the crew had been quite ill before the attack. Yet he and the other survivors had been among those untouched by the fever. Could it be that Gaultier and Jonas had poisoned the casks? It seemed plausible as Bill, Henry and Nathan were among those who habitual forwent their ration of water but instead took a dram of rum and a measure of lime to prevent scurvy, and to insure that they got a full ration of rum. Suddenly a horrible thought struck Bill. What if the two malefactors had done the same to the Watch Dog? Best to look into this. He decided it would be best to ask the surgeon her prognosis on how Nathan came to be in such a state. If she suspected poison then he would inform the Captain. He rapped softly at the door to gain her attention......

Back aboard Le Requiem Gaultier was stewing in his quarters. He was beginning to get the feeling that Fournier had no intention of assisting him. He musn't let Flint and Bly escape or it would doom others who operating in a likewise manner to himself. He must get to them tonight before the Watch Dog left port. He must act now. he fingered the little pistol hidden in his pocket, and he knew what he must do he opened the door and spoke to the two marin located there.

"Les messieurs d'excuse, je dois me soulager, pourriez-vous m'escorter ? "

[Pew]

::With the Captain's hasty departure an air of uneasiness remained aboard. As Mr. Lasseter returned from below deck, I went and spoke with those crew that had been outfitted with the muskets. I made them aware that they are to be under intense scrutiny of anything that should seem out of order. Two men were to remain under watch of our "prisoner". The other 8 men were placed about the deck in a firing position, yet also as to look innocuous as if they were completing their evening tasks. "We need not ta raise alarm gents", I whispered in hushed tones, "but ye must be on 'lert with yer muskets loaded and half-cocked."

Returning to Mr. Lasseter's side, I could survey the deck. Several lanterns had been extinguished and the lad McGinty had gone to the bow with Wadlow to loosen the mooring lines. A few had made it into the rigging and were ready for departure as soon as the signal had been given.

Even though only a few knew of the Captain's wishes, the tension on the deck was palpable.

Trying to ease the air, I turn back to Mr. Lasseter, "'Tis a nice night for a sail, eh Mr. Lasseter?" He smiles wryly and rests both of his hands on the pistols stuck in his belt.

"Aye Mr. Pew, aye".

[Dorian Lasseter]

Leaving his position at the swivel gun mounted railing, Johnson approached Dorian respectfully.

" Mister Lasseter, sir. I couldn't help but notice the two fancy little additions to yer' attire. I be wonderin' if'n I would be in need o' a fashion upgrade as well ? "

::The QuarterMaster chuckled slightly at the choice of words Mr. Johnson used... He shook his head slightly...::

Nay Lad... wi' th' double watch all armed as such, an' you wi' yer swivel, we be in fine shape... these 'r just my own precaution... just keep a sharp eye....

::He watched as Johnson smiled and headed back to his station, leaned on the rail and rested a hand on "Yer Maker"... Turning his attention back to ship and shore, he had an idea to satisfy a curiosity... he patted his pocket, making sure his small glass was within, then excused himself from Mr. Pew's side. Heading for the mainmast shrouds, he stepped up onto the rail and climbed halfway up until he had an unobstructed view of Le Requiem... drawing out his glass, he extended it, peered through the darkness into the lighted gallery of the french ship, hoping to see what happenings were occuring...::

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

{editied for plot's sanity's sake}

[William Brand]

William asked for pen and paper and immediately penned a letter to be sent by Simon Powell back with him to the Watch Dog. It was addressed to Mister Lasseter and it contained simple and flexible instructions.

Letter to Mister Lasseter:

Mister Lasseter,

We are at once betrayed and in great danger. The man who so recently came aboard the Watch Dog and then fled to Le Requiem is in great ernest to have the remaining new recruits arrested as enemies of France. We must allow them to leave under the guise of an armed escape, proceeding us into the sea in the cover of dark. This will require you to warn Mister Flint and whomever he may take with him. They must fabricate a plausible departure. If our good Doctor can assist by providing the appearance of wounded guards, this may also serve. I leave the details in your capable hands, but time may be short.

-W.H.

William handed the letter to Fournier with a questioning expression. "Will it serve?"