The Watch Dog

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian knew William had seen his falter on the ladder. Since nothing was said, he revealed nothing. Given the directive to head to the Wardroom, he went straight away and saw the fine repairs to the ships’ interior. He smiled and looked approvingly at the seamless joining of old and new. He also acknowledged those crew at work there.

“Miss McDonough, Mister Bly… excellent work…”

He placed the bag on the table and pulled the contents out, arranging them neatly. Soon William had followed and stood with his back to the door. He motioned for Dorian to sit and began to pace across the room. Dorian made to speak, but William held up his hand, halting him. Soon a platter of food was brought in and the meal was laid out. William sat once all was prepared and they enjoyed the noon time meal in relative silence. As luck would have it a light breeze had sprung up, easing some of the heat and humidity.

[Silkie McDonough]

At Captain Lasseter's greeting both crew members stood quickly to attention and knuckled their forelocks. "Capn'" they acknowledged him in unison "Tank ya' sar" Miss McDonough replied to his praise. Glancing quickly at each other Nathan then excused himself and Murin so that they might prepare for shore leave. They quietly gathered their equipment and turned to exit. As Captain Brand entered the Wardroom they knuckled their forelocks once more in greeting "Capn'" and waited for him to clear the doorway before making their exit.

[William Brand]

July 30, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Just prior to eight bells of the Forenoon Watch

William made no conversation about business at first, content to eat and to discuss the finer things of Martinique. However, this line of conversation lead to a discussion of candles and wine, those which Dorian had brought over in particular. William seemed surprised by this news and looked about the room, wondering what had become of them. He stepped to the stern bench and lifted several, hinged seats until he came to one brimming with tapers and wine.

"Ahhh...I am indebted to you, sah. I was down to a few greasy tallows." He said, choosing out a fine vintage from among the nestled bottles. He popped the cork out the open stern windows and set the open wine on the table, but not before pouring two glasses full.

"Now...how are you set for men aboard the Heron?"

~Starboard Watches on Duty~

[Pew]

Harbormaster's Office

I asked the master for some parchment and a bit of ink. I penned a short note to Captain Brand. In it, I described our last night’s departure and a surprise gift. “Please send the longboat, sah,” I was sure to add.

The note was rolled tightly and tied with a short piece of leather. A small coin was about to be placed in the boy’s hand, to which, his eyes brightened.

I knelt down on one knee and met the boy eye-to-eye. I placed a hand on his shoulder and spun him to face the harbor. “See tha’ ship jus’ off the point?” The boy looked for a moment about the many bobbing about. I pointed at Watch Dog, and he nodded. “Tha’s th’ Watch Dog. I need y’ t’ deliver this to th’ Captain of tha’ frigate.” I handed the boy the note and showed him another silver coin from my leather pouch, “This fer now, an’oer ‘pon your return.”

“Oui monsieur.” He stepped back and saluted.

The boy trotted down to the dock and stepped into a dinghy tied to the pier. He spun the small boat about and faced Jean and I.

“Think ‘eel make it?’ Jean asked and mopped his brow.

“I ‘ope so. ‘e can’t get lost.” We both laughed and watched the boat become smaller and smaller as it approached the Watch Dog.

[Alder]

The bounding voice of Mister Warren cascaded over the rail and fell on Alder’s ear. Uncomfortable trespassing upon private conversations, he deafened his attention to the sound. His consideration, however, piqued as cryptic ”Captain Brand”, “starboard watch” and “gather” fell soundly. Wiping the rivulet of sweat that fell in testament to his effort and gazing at the sun’s path, Alder assessed little time for the work he felt compelled to complete before the noon bell. The approaching lure of the shore might have offered more draw to Alder were there coin or cause to accompany. He mused about an evening in the company of one Miss McDonough; the moniker he had recent overheard from this surreptitious vantage point, now set to memory as well as imaginings. The merit and peril of this advantage became immediately apparent as a wake out of cadence nudged the hull. Alder’s perch tipped precariously, discharging a poorly grasped nail. He glanced down in some relief as the dispensable item was summarily swallowed into the ports murky depths. Would that had been a cherished tool, he would have dived headlong in its path and was already positioned to do the same. Alder refastened his few tools and then himself and summoned added vigilance to his task. The auburn glow of the mid-day sun danced in tress-like waves on the surface. “Blessed distractions”, he groused under his breath, belying an expression traced by a wry grin.

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Now...how are you set for men aboard the Heron?"

~Starboard Watches on Duty~

Dorian steepled his hands on the table in front of him and closed his eyes. He went through the list of those chosen to be aboard the English built Cutter. They numbered not many above a score of men.

“Weeelll… If I get all of ‘em back from th’ Maastricht an’ all… not too bad… but not as goode as could be…”

He opened his eyes and looked at William, sitting back in his chair.

[William Brand]

"There are not many to be had ashore outside of Frenchmen and a mix of half a dozen nations. I would give a share or two up to have some Englishmen, despite this war." Dorian nodded. William wasn't sure he was thinking the same thing, but he continued along this line of conversation. "I'm considering a tactic of recruitment normally reserved for the Royal Navy." he paused and sipped his wine a moment. "The Fort Royal prison must have an english tongue or two wasting away in the dark there. What think you of taking on some condemned men, with the understanding that they reform any of their too wayward ways before liberation? Would you oppose adding a few convicted conscripts to your numbers?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian pondered Captain Brands' words for a time, mirrored him in sipping his wine.

"It has possibilities... Tho.. wi' my small crew... I wouldn't care ta have more'n six 'r so... add a goodly number on the 'Dog here, an' I'll take a couple more trusted men on th' Heron... I c'n manage well with wot I 'ave presently... Just would be nice f'er a bit more ta 'andle th' lines..."

He went back to drinking his wine, and wished he had brought his pipe and tobacco with him. A pipe after a good meal would be perfect right now.

[William Brand]

"Once the Maastricht is bought from us I shall send out word for new able seamen and we shall see what becomes of it. If our fortune continues, we may secure enough to have our pick from among many. I should like enough that I might raise a few more of our own as marines."

"Aye." Dorian agreed.

"Raise only the Irish." William ammended, smiling as he refreshed Dorian's glass. They both drank a toast to that as a knock came at the Ward Room door. Mister Warren put his head in and informed them both that the watches were assembling before the mast.

"Ahhh, excellent."

Dorian raised one questioning brow and William fetched the coin from the Ilex bartering. He plopped the bag on the table, inviting Dorian to peruse the contents with a wave of his hand. Dorian spilled out the heavy coins and nodded his approval.

"That's but a fraction of the take, and we are minus but one of the bags from Our Lady of Ilex." William said smiling again. Then he grew solemn and compounded this joke by crossing himself twice with wine glass in hand.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Isle De Generosite

The kitchen in the main house was large and filled with the smells of freshly baked scones. A tawny cat lolled on it's back in a patch of sunlight which shone through large windows that looked out on the rolling sugar cane fields in the distance.

It was lazily pawing a childs toy on the well worn wood floor which was always swept clean of the smallest crumb.

At the table sat Martin Garaud's two children Anna and Daniel. The girl was the spitting image of her mother which pained her father so, he oft spent time away to avoid the haunting familiarity despite the child's tender age of 5. Her Brother was a sandy haired child with his fathers broad face and blue eyes. He was currently smeared with fresh jam and pawed through the book Miss Ashcombe had given him his eyes wide at the pictures...a buttery chunk of biscuit held aloft in concentration. He was just learning some words and was absorbed in the story Genevieve knew he would love.

Genevieve walked from the brick hearth, a second book tucked under her arm and plate of warm scones and preserves in her hand intending to put Anna on her lap and read to both children over breakfast.

She was just leaning to pick the girl up who held her arms out for "Aunty Genevieve" when her uncle's manservant entered. Darius St James had not a shred of compassion which could be observed about his person and wore a constant scowl which was even more dour this morning. He glanced dissaprovingly at the warm little scene, which was the only acknowledgement she recieved. Daniel stopped chewing and shrugged up his shoulders involuntarily. Genevieve smiled warmly at the boy and tried not to show any emotion as her back stiffened. She sat quickly with anna, the child's foot almost knocking the plate of scones to the floor as it clattered on the table...

[William Brand]

July 30, 1704 - Martinique

Darius St. James stood a while in the doorway off of the hall and looked quite uncertain whether he was coming or going. After several attempts to stay or leave he simply stopped and remained in the doorway. What had first seemed like the usual dismissive mood with which he greeted all about him, now seemed like much, much more. It was as if the man were lost in thought, almost sleepwalking. He was a long time standing and saying nothing and he made no attempt to do anything else at all. Then the noon bell was struck out on the plantation grounds and Darius began to speak as if cued.

"Please send out the children." he said in a removed way. Jenny wasn't certain which bothered her most. The request that she send the children away and remain alone with the man, or the fact that he said 'please', and in a way that sounded so utterly distant. Still, she urged the children out into the side yard. Then she waited for the other shoe to drop.

"I've just come from up the road..." he said in an absent minded and matter of fact way. His tone was even but void of any real commerce. It had an unreal quality to it, almost false, as if Darius himself did not quite believe that he had been on the road. He set down a large wrapped parcel on a chair near one of the windows, which faced out towards the lane, and he stood a moment in the light. He was so long in continuing whatever train of thought that he had had that Jenny almost prompted him with a question, just to break the silence, but he continued to speak just as she would have asked it. "Basile Duflot...he's..."

"What can be th' matte..." Jenny began, worried now that something must truly be wrong to have left such a well versed man so short of words, but Darius cut her off.

"Someone has murdered the young Master de Mofras."

[Red Cat Jenny]

The chill that had begun in Jenny's hands had crept slowly up her arms and now trickled down her spine until her entire body felt cold. Her stomach lurched at the words she could no more believe than it seemed Darius did, though they came from his own lips. Which now held more than their usual pallor. He didn't look at her as he spoke...instead fixed a hollow gaze out the window as if observing some grisly conjuring playing over in his vision. He wrung his hands a bit but spoke no more seeming truly haunted.

For a brief moment in her mind's panic. Jenny suspected he might be the killer. But she quickly shook it off.

She thought of the family twice now without a patriarch. The boy was only 23 and engaged to be married...Jenny's eyes began to well at the thought of his bride to be. Had she been the one who found him? A thousand questions strangled her thoughts as she struggled to absorb the news. To know what to do next. She didn't want to ask, wanted to run from the horror which had just shattered the peace of the day. She turned to Darius and placed a hand gingerly on his elbow. A wholly unnatural act that would not have occurred, were it not for the stricken look on the man and her own desperate need to do something. To grasp some control. "What happened?" she asked. A moment passed and he turned his pale face towards her, looking down at her hand on his arm instead of her face. She immedaitely withdrew it, feeling as immediately ashamed for such a cold act.

[William Brand]

July 30, 1704 - Martinique

He waited a moment after she broke the contact before continuing. He looked more thoughtful now that he had begun to speak and his tone became more genuine, which was to say, that he became more of his usual removed self. He straightened a little and let his hands fall behind his back, returning his gaze to the window.

Daniel was trying in vain to sneak up on a hummingbird who was at the flowers on the garden wall. The bird seemed oblivious to the clumsy cat of a boy, but Daniel tried again and again to grab at it from half a yard away.

"Césaire found the weapon with one of the slaves." Darius continued. "A cane knife I believe." He watched Jenny absorb this brutal tidbit of information without much relish. "Another slave...a girl...is missing. Sister or daughter to the murderer I expect. I do not know."

Jenny sat down in a chair by the door, unable to do anything else for the moment. "His siblings..." she said, but could not elaborate.

"This is what comes of kindness to slaves." Darius said, beginning down that well trod road for the hundredth time. "Slaves must understand their place. Better to to keep strange dogs without tether, than a slave with any notion of its place."

Only Darius could command such a soapbox as this, to speak so much vinegar after such news. He went on uninterrupted for five full minutes on the evils of trusting a slave. Jenny had heard it all before, so much in fact, that she could recite whole sentences from memory. Still, she heard little, for she was so distracted by the idea of Basile de Mofras struck down with some wicked weapon that she did not hear Darius' words. It was only when she realized that he was looking at her that she was certain that he had asked her a question, but she did not know what it was that he had asked.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Jenny disagreed with the whole concept of slavery..but kept her opinions secreted within herself. It was a subject she felt strongly about. He'd likened them to dogs..well if you tied a dog within sight of it's water, but just out of reach what should you expect?

She hoped within her heart that there was some mistake. Jenny had been accused by her uncle more than once of kindness and lenience to the slaves which had been populating the plantation over the past few years. Garaud didn't trust her as it was, and used her small kindnesses as a means to attack her for imagined collusion. Jenny only felt that the whole of it was unfair, though she knew such recondite thinking could cost one their life, and so offered no opinion. Darius seemed to be returning to some state of control and she could hear Anna and Daniel laughing outside in the sun. Turning her attention to the parcel Darius had laid on the table, she gestured towards the nondescript wrapping "Mr. St John, what is it that you have brought with you?"

[William Brand]

He seemed slightly perturbed that she should ignore his question, but he chose to answer hers instead of repeating himself. "You are to take this to Monsieur Chaimoiseu. The cheesemaker..." he added, as if Jenny might not remember a man she saw almost twice on any given week. "He will give you an order intended for the pantry. See that it goes to the pantry."

He did not wait for an answer from her. He was quickly returning to his old self and he left the kitchen without another word. For him, the dark deeds of the day had already come and gone.

[Red Cat Jenny]

As Darius St John exited the kitchen by the way he had come, Jenny was filled with mixed emotions. She had begun to feel pity for her uncles longtime steward, but it was quashed by his casual assignment of an errand as if she were the house servant and not the other way round.

Darius, in the five years she had lived at Isle De Generosite, had never treated her as if she were on the same level as her uncle. He rarely paid any attention to her at all. Which was to her liking..and she oft suspected his as well. She stared at the empty doorway for a moment listening to the last embers from breakfast crackling within the hearth.

Jenny reached for the package and examined it. Neither its weight or any smell belied it's contents. She set it back on the table and went to fetch the children. No longer feeling safe leaving them without her charge. Especially now with their Governess away visiting family.

She walked out the door into the noonday sunshine and called for Daniel and Anna. "Come children, we're going to town!"

[Pew]

Wharf at Fort Royal

Jean and I watched until the dinghy had nearly the Watch Dog, and we heard Eric and Luc arrive behind us. The carts were halted just short of the docks and the first driver stepped off with a small ledger in hand.

"Monsieur, signes un reçu, s'il vous plaît," I looked at Jean, and he translated, "he wizhes for you to sign zee ledger."

"Ah." I signed my name quickly as several dockhands walked to the the two carts. Jean spoke to the oldest of the three men, telling him to unload the barrels and crates. Eric and Luc piled their gear near the cart and Luc leaned his musket against his large canvas bag. Several hands began to untie the ropes as a large pile of goods from the plantation began to emerge.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Pierre St-Germain did his best to keep his little pirate ship moving in as straight line as he could. Watching the two men at the wharf who commissioned him and his craft, he frequently looked over his shoulder to make sure his mission could be fulfilled. Each dip of the sweeps he fended off the Royal Navy and their grapples. Ducking the cannonshot over head, he pulled hard to get his craft out of range of the Man-of-War. "Flibustier d'or, por moi!!" The small boy laughed to himself and the imaginary English fleet broke off their pursuit.

As Pierre neared the small frigate, he spun the dinghy around and called to the man standing watch, "Officier de service, Officier de service!!!.

One of the men on the ship leaned over the railing and answered back. He told the marine standing on deck that he had a message from "Monsieur Pew" ashore at Martinique, and he was to deliver it to the Captain of the Watch Dog. Two more men arrived at the rail at the mention of Mister Pew's name. The marine waved his hand to the great ship and pointed at the chains. The boy smiled, knowing that his mission was nearly completed.

[William Brand]

July 30, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Afternoon Watch begins

With the arrival of the noon bell, William and Dorian went out into the sun to those who waited before the mast. A young boy was being lifted over the rail into the waist of the ship and he was directed to Captain Brand at once. The boy presented himself before the captains and snapped off a fairly good salute which inspired a chuckle or two about the crew. Then he presented the note to the captain as if delivering news from higher courts than the docks.

William stood aside a moment and read the note. "Very good." he said aloud, rolling it up again and pocketing it. He presented a good round coin to the boy and asked him to wait a moment. Then William stood before the gathered crew and explained that shares would be given to all shore bound watches. No other orders were given apart from reminders of previous ones. Word was sent to the Heron for all watches bound for shore from there to make their way first to the Dog to receive payment. Then William retired to the Ward Room again with Dorian to pay out coin and mark the ledgers. Dorian manned the books while William penned a note to go ashore again to Mister Pew.

An anxious line of able seamen began to form along the passageway in short order.

~Larboard Watches on Duty~

[Pew]

Pierre stood silently and watched the Captain go about his business. He stood straight as a messenger from the King himself until the Captain placed the coin in his hand and gave him the orders. He gave another salute and turned on his heels to make his way into the boat again.

Pierre watched as the ship gradually became smaller in the short distance it was to the docks. He lowered himself in his make believe sloop so as to stay out of sight of the Royal Navy's marine marksmen. He watched over each shoulder for any sign of the despised ensign waving over the quarterdeck of any approaching Man-of-war. Knowing he was out of reach of their muskets, Pierre sat straight again and pulled on the sweeps.

The boy saw the edges of the docks curl around him. He pulled hard on the larboard sweep and spun the craft around with the agility of an able seaman. One of the men standing there placed his foot against the stern of the craft to hold it steady as Pierre stowed the oars.

Pierre stepped onto the docks and handed the message to the blonde haired ship's officer before him. The man nodded and removed a coin as he promised from a large pouch hung round his waist. Pierre glanced in the bag and saw many, many coins. He eyes widened again and stood at attention. The man thanked him, but Pierre lingered about, trying to lend a hand were he could.

[William Brand]

July 30, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Just before first bell of the Afternoon Watch

Time passed and the longboat went ashore brimming with sailors of the Starboard Watches. The Patricia returned the last of the Larboard Watch almost as the longboat was leaving. William checked his watch and considered some hard words that he might speak, but changed his mind. He went up to the quarterdeck with Dorian to discuss the further matters of new recruits. Then he noted laughing off the Larboard bow and would have dismissed it, but for the barking that accompanied it. He furrowed his brow a bit and went forward and down to the waist. As he made his way forward he heard the barking again and looked out on the approaching cutter. There, perched among the many barrels and passengers, stood a dog. It was a golden tan color like buckskin, but covered in dark stripes of black, almost tiger fashion and William smiled to see such an animal in the Caribbean. It took William a moment to remember the name of the breed for he first thought 'Kammerhunde' and then 'Chamber Dog', believing both might be correct. Still, he had never seen a breed of this particular coloring.

"What is that?" he said aloud to anyone within earshot.

Pascal, standing at the rail himself, spoke up at once, taking his pipe from his mouth and pointing at the dog with the stem of it. "That, sah, is a German Mastiff."

"Ahhh yes. A Kammerhunde...?"

"Aye, sah. Very good, sah. One in the same." he said, puffing his pipe and watching the antics of the crew and the dog.

"And does that particular hide have a name?" William asked, gesturing to the unfamiliar pattern on the dog.

"I do not know colors fr'm colors, sah. A man in the dells kept mastiffs. Good loyal breed."

"Indeed." William said, raising an eyebrow, wondering that a dog should be in the cutter. Then he saw Miss Tribbiani trying ever so hard not to watch him and he thought he understood. He stood there with his arms crossed as the cutter bumped up against the Watch Dog. "What's all this?"

"Barrels and a dog, sah." Jonathan Hawks said trying not to smile.

"Yeesssss...thank you Mister Hawks." William narrowed his eyes, ignoring Pascal who was choking a little at his pipe. "What is it doing in our cutter?"

"It wouldn't leave, sah." The blacksmith returned.

William shook his head. He shook it for awhile. Siren was already making her way up the side and still trying not to look at him. Then she dropped down beside William and began speaking very fast all at once.

"I was attacked in the village. Several men jumped me, well...us...and the dog came at them. He was wounded...but he did worse to the fellow who remained. He might have killed him in fact. We didn't stay. The dog was hurt so..."

By this time William had put up a hand to stop the barrage of information aimed at him. He waited a moment after this before speaking. The pup was still barking in the cutter. "You asked for recruits, Cap'n." she explained, attempting levity over common sense.

"Recruits, Miss Tribbiani. Recruits. Not pets."

"But sah."

"Cats we have. Cats for the vermin, and this because we must or risk holes in hearth and home."

"There is a mastiff on the prow, Cap'n. Wouldn't it be fitting...?" she tried again.

William shook his head very slowly. He had been shaking his head a lot since the conversation began. "Miss Tribbiani. I recognize the poetic aspects of having a dog aboard this particular ship, but symbolism aside, we have no place for a dog." she made as if to speak again, but William raised a hand once more. "And yes, there is a mastiff for a maidenhead, and that mastiff minds the head." He pointed into the cutter. "Will this one mind the head for the sake of the decks?"

"Sah...?"

"If I may, Cap'n...?" Dorian stepped up a little closer and looked at Siren sympathetically. "What th' Cap'n means ta say is this...Will it soil th' masts and deck beams?"

Siren chewed her lip. She seemed exhausted of ideas, but still anxious to argue the point. Ciaran had kept his peace all the while, but he spoke up after the long silence. "Cap'n. You'd have no better night watch. Our good eyes are nothing in the dark."

"Thank you, Mister Ciaran." Wiliam said quietly, but whether he was really thankful or not, it wasn't in his voice. William looked at Dorian who returned one of his inexhaustible, quiet shrugs. Then he fixed Siren with a level and absolute look. "This shall be a probationary appointment. The dog is in your charge, and you will find three others to mind the animal while it is aboard. If it can be shown that the dog..."

"Argus, sah." she corrected, and blushed for interrupting the Captain.

"Argus...of course. Argus." William looked down at Argus who was too small for a dog and too big for a pup. Saying the name in his head, he chanced to wonder if the name referred to Argos, the long-lived dog of Odysseus or Argus, the son of Zues. It might even be the name of the shipwright who built the Argo, but William didn't know or ask.

"Gentelmen..." he said, looking around at the crew present for this exchange. "...our newest dog."

~Larboard Watches on Duty~

[Red Cat Jenny]

Genevieve had the children dressed smartly and was hurrying them into the main foyer to the waiting coach outside. She leaned down to button Daniels short jacket as the boy fidgeted, wanting to catch up to his sister who was trying to grasp the brass handle of the front door. She stood on tiptoes balancing precariously and falling just short of reach of the treasure she sought.

The door opened suddenly nearly knocking Anna to the floor. "Papa!" she squealed attaching herself at once to the knees of Martin Garaud as he entered. Daniel followed suit tugging himself free of his aunts grasp but stopping a few paces from the man he was slightly wary of. The lad had experienced both acceptance and love, along with occasional rejection from his father . The latter of which had stung him enough it their last meeting, that he hesitated despite his own youthful zeal.

Garaud put a hand awkwardly to his daughters shoulders and gently extricated himself from her enthusiastic greeting. She babbled excitedly as children do and he spoke over her to Miss Ashcombe, nodding and smiling at his daughter all the while. Inside he shrunk slightly with guilt as the familiarity in the child's eyes haunted his soul once again.

"Uncle"..Genevieve started. He cut her off curtly. "Genevieve, I am sure you are aware of this mornings discovery. I see you have the children ready which is good as I am seeing them off to their aunts. With Merlenea out of town they need proper care and to be as far from this place as will afford them safety. I wasn't aware Mr. St John had informed you, but I see you made a wise choice in attending to his instruction" Genevieve was crushed inside...the words he had spoken so familiar to her. He made no effort to hide his recent and growing disdain for the neice he had welcomed some 5 years ago, nor any lack of faith in her abilities. Though he had no reason. She simply lowered her eyes and spoke before explaining to the children amidst their protests. "Yes sir".. Genevieve quieted the children quickly and turned away before they could see her tears forming.

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Tudor stalked through the crowds at the wharf, her eyes skitting around, taking in every face and form, looking for a certain familiar figure. It had been a trying time, the past several hours. Shortly after seeing the captain yesterday she seemed to have become all but invisible to the rest of the search party crew, always left to follow a few steps behind wherever they went, observing all the comings and goings. Eventually, upon the party's return to the tavern, she went to her own accomodations instead of drinking with the men, unwilling to sit bored while she could be catching up on much needed sleep. Her logic was, if they were ever going to accomplish anything, they needed to be alert and prepaired, and missing a few drinks and conversation might actually be of more use.

Little had she known that their plans had not included stayin at the tavern they had stopped at, as they had many other evenings. When she rose shortly before the dawn, it was only to discover that they had not stayed, but had left after eating. With a grumbled oath, she started out to track them and spent the better part of the day making inquires and following their trail only to end up at the wharf.

Finally she spotted them, seeing the Master-at-Arms, handing a coin to a young lad. Without hesitation, she bruskly pushed her way through the crowd, her swagger clearing a path, til she stood by the rest of her party.

She snapped a salute. "Sir." She said tersly. "Reporting for duty, sir." She held her peace, not saying what she was seething with. It could be partially held as her fault for not waiting for orders last night, but she felt it was a moot point.

[William Brand]

July 30, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

First bell of the Afternoon Watch

The two captains walked to a point on the quarterdeck overlooking the bay's opening towards the sea. They both watched the strange and awkward loading of their newest recruit, who proved to be as loud as any of those who struggled to bring him aboard.

"An who shall tell th' cats, Cap'n." Dorian questioned aloud.

William just shook his head and made no reply. He watched Miss Tribbiani as the dog finally lighted on the deck and noted her delight which made him shake his head all the more.

"They'll be no getting rid of it now."

They retired again below to discuss the books and the crew. The ledgers were laid open and an accounting was taken of those shares paid out and those to be paid. William added in the figures from the jeweler and the estimations on the the Maastricht and cannon. He tried not to exaggerate his expectations, but even the modest predictions were considerable so the conversation slowly turned to the imaginations of men who have come into money.

~Larboard Watches on Duty~

[Silkie McDonough]

When the word reached Miss McDonough that all starboard crew was to report to the wardroom to receive additional shares she was once again stunned. Already she was wealthy beyond her wildest imagination. What more would she need aboard her new home? Nathan had warned her that often the time at sea seems interminable. As she headed to the wardroom she thought of things she might like to have to make time on a vessel more bearable. Paper, ink and quill! She could continue her instructions on writing ...and reading. She would buy a book. There are many literate sailors aboard. Murin was sure one of them would be willing to help continue her education. By the time she arrived the line outside the Wardroom was short only she and a few other sailors stood contemplating their good fortunes. Her excitement grew as she waited. When Miss McDonough entered the Wardroom she was so preoccupied she seemed much unlike herself, almost confidant and a bit gregarious. Both Captain Brand and Captain Lasseter were surprised and pleased by her boldness, so unlike the lass.

After visiting the ward room returned to the berth and her sea chest. Murin counted out what coin she thought would like to spend for this trip ashore and dropped it into the small sack she wore around her neck tucking that inside her shirt. She also dropped the ruby earrings that were given her after Anna had passed. The remainder of her pay was carefully tucked away in her the sea chest. She gathered the things she intended to take ashore from her sea chest thinking of what she might do with so much money. Miss McDonough pulled the the chemise and handkerchief that the doctor and her first mate had loan her when she arrived on the Watch Dog. There was a matter of laundering them to tend to. Murin would pay someone to do that. She laughed aloud; to have money enough to afford to pay for services she could, if her hand were not injured, easily do her self! Oh! New slops, some that she would not need to hold up with a rope belt. A waistcoat that fit, a nice new leather belt, new working shoes ... It would be a help to have a satchel to carry things in while on shore. Thus the list grew until she spied Nathan impatiently waiting at the rail.

“Have you any idea how many of the boats have already headed to the shore while I have been waiting for you?” he teased. “E’ken nil bae buot a few minuets past noon! Stop yer grousin’!” Murin playfully slapped him in the stomach with the back of her hand. “Wot’d…?” she stopped in amazement when she saw Siren and a brindle dog unlike any she had ever seen mid waist. Nathan urged her over the rail and replied “Aye, gone to the Dogs.” They descended the ladder and waited for the remainder of those waiting to board the smaller craft.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The two captains had talked of the wealth acquired, and the wealth soon to be acquired. They spoke of what might be done with that wealth, both on a personal and practical level. What improvements might be done to the ships, both for strength of form and ornamentation. Both made reference as to what could be done to improve the Watch Dog and William asked what Dorian might want for the Heron.

“I had a notion ta re-arm ‘er… mayhaps wi’ 6 pounders, brass… She won’t ‘andle larger gins for fear o’ what damage they’d cause bein’ fired. On’y so much strengthenin’ can be done ta th’ craft…”

William agreed after a pause to think, understanding that the nimble cutter was not as robustly built as the frigate.

“Agreed… would be nice to have better weight of a broadside, but no matter, going from iron fours to brass sixes will be plenty…. If they can be acquired…”

“Aye, Cap’n… indeed…”

They heard more barking on deck, and a couple laughs from crewmembers. Dorian rolled his eyes and grinned a half grin. He yawned and put a hand to cover his mouth. When finished he gestured into the air.

“Almost fergot… Seems I’ve acquired a ships cat on the Heron as well…there weren’t one when we got ‘er… He’s a… well…a Pooka… If ‘e shows ‘imself on deck you’ll see ‘im plainly… big puss… white n’ black…”

Dorian grinned at William as he made a face.

“We are becoming much like the ship in Noah’s charge I fear…”

“Aye William… it does look that way at times…”