The Watch Dog

[Alder]

“’Bout tha unveiling of yer figurehead, Sir…”

“Go on, Mister Wenge”, Captain Lasseter encouraged.

With much hesitancy, the carpenter proceeded. “With all respect Cap’n, might you share your plans for the morrow?”

Captain Lasseter began to reply having only opened his mouth to speak when Alder anxiously interjected “I mean no impertinence Cap’n” he added in haste, “tis only tha figurehead, her drapes, the bindings…”all his concerns flooded the verse that stumbled beyond his lips and his control.

“Mister Wenge. . .” Dorian attempted to intercede as the unbalanced conversation droned on “Mister Wenge!” the forceful call to attention was followed by the reassuring tone “Carpenter” as a supportive hand gripped the shoulder of his attendant.

“Cap’n” Alder paused to knuckle his forelock “I should like to assist yea in the effort” he spoke in a more confident voice even as he stifled an unrelenting yawn.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Captain Lasseter lightly slapped Mister Wenge on the back.

“Aye, I was countin’ on yer help wi’ that, you know how she’s bound wi’ th’ drapes an’ such. Pick a lad ‘r two ta help. I plan ta make it brief, since we’ll be headed outta th’ bay at first light. Now I suggest ye get yer rest when ya can. First light will be here ‘afore ya know it.”

Mister Wenge beamed.

“Aye captain, thank you sir.”

He knuckled his brow and head off to find his mates and to get what sleep he could. Dorian smiled and turned to William.

“Care ta stay awhile or head back to th’ Dog for the short evenin’ and return fer th’ unveiling of th’ figurehead?”

[Pew]

The familiar voices caught Preston off guard. He closed the ledger and made his way to the waist.

"Gentlemen," he calmly welcomed both Captains, in the midst of a conversation themselves, "a pleasant ev'nin' ashore I should 'ope?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

When Mister Pew asked his question, Dorian shook his head slowly and William creased his brow and pursed his lips momentarily.

“Master Preston, I would wish it had been a pleasant evenin’ ashore, I assume ye got my correspondence?”

Preston gave a quirky smile and nodded. Dorian spoke again, his voice lowered.

“And have ye acted on anythin’ in that letter?”

He gave a look to his officer that Pew was sure to understand. The Ships Master nodded barely in response. He mouthed a name but Dorian didn’t quite catch it, so Pew repeated it with a hiss. Captain Lasseter nodded and thought on that a moment.

“How’d ye come ta that?”

Captain Brand cleared his throat and Dorian shot a look his way, chuckled and leaned to him, filling him in on the possibility that the one lad, O’Hara had been singled out by Mister Pew as the man who stabbed Captain Stoneborrows. To this William nodded and put a hand to his chin.

“And where is the man?”

Dorian looked to Pew who nodded to William.

“He’s being sought out by others… We’ll have he back afore dawn.”

A single ‘Aye’ came from the captains.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Ward room of the Lucy

Miss Ashcombe sat pensively on her cot. Mr. Pew had gone above to meet with the Captains and their guest. She considered what she could make out of the man who stood easily a head above his hosts.

Durand...why had she not recognised him immediately? Jenny had known the recent inquisition would not be the last they would see of Monsieur Durand and his suspicions. She again thought of the coin secreted in her parcel. She wondered if she should find a hiding place. Her eyes flickered about the cabin and it's recesses. Captain Brand still seemed skeptical of her presence, though Captain Lasseter had seemed willing to see her protected for the moment. Perhaps it was something in his expression when she had spoken about slavery. Her obvious distaste for the notion had been apparent and now she considered that he may have found an empathy, given that peoples of his homeland had been victims of such an abomination as well.

Jenny again ran over the facts she had provided, again considered answers to questions that may still come. She drew her knees up and hugged them against her hoping that Durand hadn't returned seeking custody or worse, her affections. She closed her eyes against the memory of his breath heavy with drink that night at the Chateau Anse when he'd stumbled into her room. Of the way he looked at her despite his sodden attempt at decorum. If he were sent for her, surely his ire at her ignoring his request would do no good. Jenny stood suddenly and paced about the cabin. No, he hadn't recognised her ..she couldn't be sure. She looked towards the ward room door hoping to see only the Captains or Mr. Pew should it open.

[William Brand]

August 3, 1704 - Aboard the Lucy

William stood awhile in silence, pondering the many problems before him. The Stoneburrows' stabbing had seemed important when first brought to light, but in the wake of the den Oven matter, it had paled considerably. Still, having a murderous opportunist aboard smacked of too much Tawny or Muller, so the matter would have to be broached ere they departed this now unfavorable island.

"Gentlemen, I fear that a pragmatic outlook is called for in the hours ahead. Den Oven, foolish though he may seem in some matters, will likely have taken his leave of Martinique to destinations unknown. In light of his all too recent accommodations he has good reason to place himself far from here and far from us. We will of course seek him out, but if he has quit the island, I cannot argue his capture well enough to make it seem profitable to the whole of the Whole Company. I cannot imagine that they would see the need of his capture to be above the idea of another drink ashore here or the expectation of more coin in...Southern climbs."

Dorian made a face. "It's th' intelligence he might deliver ta them that bothers me." He said 'them' with a tone of practiced disdain.

"Intelligence...?" Preston scoffed aloud, as if the word had no place when used in context with den Oven.

"Anything he might say of me would not besmirch my reputation with...them." William emphasized, using the same tone with a smile. "Come, Gentlemen. We shall be about our business a short while and rest a full watch before the pressing duties of the morning."

"Aye." they said together.

"I'm off to kick the 'Dog a bit. We shall consider our stay here at an end and make preparations to that end." William clapped Dorian at the forearm in Roman fashion. It was a gesture too genuine to be antiquated. He also made a point of slapping Preston on the shoulder, reminding the new Ship's Master how glad he was to see him up and about. Then he departed the Lucy for more familiar surroundings.

Just prior to Eight bells of First Watch

[Alder]

Nearly the bewitching hour and classically negligent in care of self, Alder trekked to his hammock to restore some semblance of balance.

“Seek much but find balance.” Aye, balance, the whisper of his mother’s voice invaded the thoughts that flooded his mind as he slung an aching frame into the swaying cradle of his dreams.

And dream he would. This night’s sleeps was fettered by provocative images of the heavenly souls attending this episode in his journey. A kaleidoscope of the bright warm faces of the tailor and her fawn of a companion faded into the faint image of the apothecary’s tempting charge; and then the rejuvenating vision of the skillful lass at the chirurgeon shop. The illuminations began to fade. Alder’s hand grasped out into the night air nearly toppling the carpenter from his perch. Clenching his eyes shut; cognizant only of his struggle to rejoin the path of pleasurable diversion, he stedied himself and breathed deeply and relaxed once more.

A peaceful smile punctuated his face as the familiar swirl of colors that preceded the angels of his dream brightened the darkness. There she was, evocative as a woman can be, reaching her strong lithe arms out to him, drawing him in, demanding. He, the willing captive, yeilded his will as even the crevices of his dreams were filled by her needs, her touch, her smell. The bond she had on him was like no woman of flesh and blood. True, she had known another, but he had molded her into the creation that she was and in her carving he was likewise transformed. He was she carpenter and she was his lady. On the morrow, he would relinquish her to another, but this night and in this dream, she was his.

[William Brand]

Eight Bells of First Watch

Middle Watch Begins

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William returned to the Watch Dog in short order. He was met amidships as he came aboard by both Jacob Badger and Tudor Smith. They made several inquiries regarding the missing men and the escaped prisoner and William invited them aft to discuss these matters and others. Once in the confines of the Ward Room, he explained to them that Captain Lasseter would take the Lucy hence to St. Pierre that he might discover if den Oven was there or fled to other shores. Meanwhile, any men of the Lucy not found before the cutter's departure, would be taken aboard the Watch Dog to aid in the final taking and stowing of stores and to serve in whatever capacity they may until they could be returned to the Lucy.

This explained, William turned to the matter of ship's officers, revealing to them his intention to make Jim Warren the Ship's Master upon his return to the Watch Dog. He also asked Jacob to give his thoughts on a replacement for both Coxswain and Coxswain's Mate. Claude Marchande, being a very large man and much liked for his skills as a sailor and translator, headed the list for Coxswain, they having few others with sufficient experience. William admitted that he was a good choice, but as he lacked the fine requirements of a good coxswain for the present, he offered another name.

"How like you, Mister Campion of the Bullrush, Mister Badger?"

"Like?" Jacob mused aloud, as if liking the man or not had little to do with the matter. "I should like him well enough if qualified."

"He was a Second Mate on the Bullrush." William explained. Jacob made a dismissive sound. "Admittedly, I should not like to put a recruit over proven men, but with Jim Warren as Master, I need an experienced navigator for Coxswain." Jacob nodded, but said nothing more. "Then Campion for Coxswain and Marchande for Mate."

Tudor had remained quiet on the matter. William had thought to alter her position aboard ship, owing to some restlessness on her part, but he could find no place that he thought better for her, not because she wasn't skilled, but because she was a woman of many skills and difficult to define by one position aboard ship. "I would have you as a Coxswain as well, Miss Smith, but for my jealous requirement that you remain my Steward, having proved yourself so well in your regard to the Ward Room. However, I would that you should hone those skills of navigation that you have, so that we might have more navigators, rather than less, and I would add that as you have distinguished yourself in the taking of the Maastricht, you shall be numbered among the marines if Eric Franklin will have you."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aboard the Lucy

The Captain and Master of the Lucy had bid Captain Brand a good evening and saw him off to his frigate. Once he was away the two men turned to other matters. First, a walk around the weather decks, trading thoughts and praises for the work done. Second, Dorian filled in Preston about the planned sailing in the morning.

“Once th’ light o’ day comes an’ th’ crew roused, I’ll have th’ men assembled and we’ll unveil th’ figurehead. Our Carpenter’s a humble man, his work is beyond words. She’s quite a comely Lass wot adorns th’ bow. If th’ breeze be favourable, we’ll show some sail an’ not have ta warp off th’ docks here.”

Preston clicked his tongue and offered a comment.

“We could break out th’ sweeps, take ‘er out a bit like ‘at.”

Dorian smiled and gave a nod.

“Aye, that’d do just as well… Aye, ready th’ sweeps come mornin’… Once out o’ th’ bay we’ll head Nor'West up th’ coast. If th’ breeze livens up, should reach Saint Pierre in… say, two hours?”

Both men were silent a moment, doing the calculations in their heads, both nodded slowly after a short while.

“Might take less iffn’ we got a goodly wind. She were fast b’fore… Now that she’s in top shape, we’ll see how fast she be, aye Lad?”

Dorian gave Preston a light slap on the shoulder and both men grinned, taking a look around their newly refitted ship. Without a word the Captain gestured to the Ships Master to take the lead, back to the wardroom. The hour was quite late and who knows what else would happen before dawn. They made more small talk as they shut the door behind them. Dorian removed his hat and coat, placing them on hook and hanger. Pistols were removed as well as sword and placed on top of his sea chest. Preston had sat down in the chair he previously occupied and waited until his Captain had made himself comfortable.

[Pew]

Preston had always felt comfortable in Dorian's presence. Good friends, more than a superior and his subject. They spoke at length about Dorian's time ashore, den Oven, the bastard, and the doings aboard the Lucy: Charlie Goddon and his match with one of his own men; the Bo'sun they were looking for; O'hara and each ship's officers thoughts. Much to discuss afore the morn. The mug was full, as was Preston.

Preston had something to give Dorian, but when. Time was now pressed against him. Now? When? Mayhaps an'oer tankard 'r two.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The discussion of the recent happenings continued for a time between Preston and Dorian until the Captain had nodded off once or twice while the Ships Master spoke. He yawned and stretched and tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Preston noted this and chuckled which led to a slight cough.

“May’aps we should turn in fer th’ eve. Ye look plum wore out Dorian.”

He smiled, and got a return smile from the Captain who nodded and stifled a yawn.

“Aye, we walked half th’ town and bothered too many people this day. Not much chance of a long sleep on the morrow neither. We’ll see who shines tomorrow and mayhaps we’ll have a Bo’sun’s mate by days end. The other matters might keep me from a proper rest, but we shall see…”

Preston nodded and regarded Dorian quietly while he weighed something on his mind. ‘Now or later...' He thought to himself as he did so.

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William awoke at seven bells of the Midwatch and could not find sleep again before eight bells. He dressed then and found Tudor at the Ward Room table where she served him hot fare, the daily reward of being so close to land. William ate as he paced the small room and he continued standing until he was awake enough to begin the business of the day. While he ate, Tudor explained her trip ashore in the company of Lieutenant De la Cruz and the questions he had put to her. William listened with interest and was not surprised that the First Mate of the Navarra had touched upon William's past. After all, the popular gossip of his past was colorful, if not wildly inaccurate.

"They wait upon the decision to enlist me to their cause, not knowing if my reputation should be a boon...or a curse."

"Perhaps they want the monster more than the man, Captain." Tudor offered.

"Perhaps." William agreed. He dismissed her and went in search of Mister Badger. Once found, he explained to him that the forepart of the Larboard Watches were to go ashore and replace the Starboard Watches there wherever they could be found. Were this not done, the Starboard Watches would know the benefit of too much time ashore, ere they departed, having had the first leave at Martinique. Any man of the Larboard Fore Watches who could not find a Starboard man to replace him, would have to return by two bells of the Morning Watch and would miss any last respite ashore, for William meant to leave the Cul du Sac Royal by noon of that day if possible. "Call all hands and see the ship prepared to take on supplies at the docks. I meant to move her within the hour. Then you and they will have the morning, Mister Badger. Remind them to be forthright."

"Aye, sah."

Next, William sent for Mathew Campion, Claude Marchande, and then after a moments thought, Teek Ranst. He had the men brought to the Ward Room where he explained their promotions respectively, calling the Dutchman to the post of Carpenter's Mate under Jonah Greene. William was direct and brief in his explanation, appointing both Coxswains without asking for their thoughts or feelings on the matter. Mister Campion was surprised, but also self assured enough that he accepted the promotion with an air of practiced dignity. Claude was genuinely gracious and thanked the Captain for his confidence. Teek, whose English was very poor at best, seemed confused, surprised, and after some discussion in two languages, surprised and confused all the more, though he could not contain his smile as understanding slowly settled in.

"Mister Campion, you will be available at all times of great need, but when not on duty you will be numbered among the Starboard Watches."

"Aye, Sah. Very good, Sah."

"Mister Marchande, you will remain with the Larboard Watches and you are dismissed ashore with the forepart of that watch to enjoy the day how you may until the noon hour."

"Thank you, Sah."

"Take Mister Ranst with you ashore and see that he understands his last, short leave."

"Aye, Sah."

He dismissed the three new officers, following them out into the predawn darkness on the Cul du Sac Royal. The wind of the morning was waxing stronger and it carried with it sound from all parts of the sleepy bay. Campion went immediately to the binnacle and began to make himself familiar with the Watch Dog's many instruments there. Claude and Teek went below to fetch up coin and clothing for shore and William took his place on the Quarterdeck.

The rest of the crew was already busy above and below as they woke the 'Dog.

First bell of the Morning Watch

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aboard the Lucy

As he watched his Captain nod one more time, Preston decided to wait til the morning to give what he had for Dorian.

“A’right Dorian… I’m off… see you ‘round dawn…”

“Aye Preston, that ye will…”

With that the Ships Master headed out and to his quarters. Dorian stretched and yawned a great yawn and shook off the edge of his tiredness, stood and crossed the room to the door and set the latch. He made his way over to his new desk and proceeded to hang his weskit there on the chair. He sat and removed his shoes and stockings, rolled said stockings and placed them each in a shoe. Even in his sleepy state he quickly rigged his hammock and climbed in. Not two minutes passed and he was sound asleep.

Four Bells of the Morning Watch

As the sky began to glow in the predawn, Dorian woke to the sounds of shod feet pacing above him on the quarterdeck. Rubbing a hand across his eyes, he rolled into a seated position in his hammock. A moment later he dropped onto the deck, his bare feet making a dull thud. He stretched and put his hands on the overhead, looking like he was Atlas trying to hold up the heavens for a moment. Turning to the sideboard he found the basin and pitcher, along with a washcloth. Striping off his shirt, he wetted the cloth and wiped his upper body down. Some water splashed on his face and run through his hair, he dried off and headed to his chest, withdrew and donned a fresh shirt. He continued to dress, occasionally looking out the stern windows at the growing light. He finished dressing and placed his hat on his head as he unlatched the door and made his presence known on deck.

Five Bells of the Morning Watch

4 August, 1704

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William noted Dorian's arrival from his vantage point on the Watch Dog's quarterdeck. The frigate floated at anchor not four dozen yards from where the Lucy was berthed, teaming with activity as a mixed watch of men and women brought supplies aboard and down into the waiting holds.

Among the crew at the rails, stood a blurry eyed Master Gunner in the form of Petee Youngblood. He wore a smile on his face despite an obvious hangover. His coat lay over the rail amidships and he was running some of the new recruits through the rigorous duties of cleaning the great guns that the rest of crew had comes to expect. He was neither to kind or too brutal to them, but his face was all business and the obvious effects of the night before had the new recruits in a cautious mood. In truth, Petee was watching to see who would stand out and which of the new men would speak his mind and demonstrate prowess under a watchful eye.

William paced along the deck and as he passed he made a point of observing Petee at work. "What think you of our new recruits, Mister Youngblood?"

Petee, who managed a salute with a pipe clenched in one side of his mouth and a bit of slow match in the other made a dismissive sound. "What men would tha' be, Sah...? These...scarecrows here? These half starved ark-ruffians?" He didn't even look at them as he spoke.

William let his eyes fall over them all, and noted that already, some of them looked healthier for their labors and the open sun. He smiled a little at Petee's dismissal, recognizing it as the common challenge that many officers employed. It was little more than the slap on the face or the cold water thrown. He also noted that most of the new recruits took it well and were untouched, for a good man knows his own worth. Also, there was that lingering look of tired relief on them to be well fed and properly used.

"Carry on, Mister Youngblood."

"Aye, Sah."

William moved further forward where he found Jim Warren putting the crew to task at the cables and rigging of the holds. Jim looked almost as tired as Petee, but for a bearing that reflected the Captain he had been before and would some day be again. He stood with a tankard from the galley and a look of reflection as he ordered men about.

The man was truly in his element.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aboard the Lucy

At Six Bells all aboard were roused and reported topside. Captain Lasseter stood on the quarterdeck, hands on the rail. The crew milled around on deck some while the officers stood in semi-attention at the break in the deck. Dorian pushed himself off the rail.

“Good Morn! We’ve some work ta do this day, I’m sure most of ye already know… In no more than two turns o’ th’ glass we’ll be settin’ sails. Mister Flint! I’ll have you send yer marines ashore an’ rouse any you can find of th’ Lucy’s crew. Have ‘em report fer duty. Not ta worry, Th’ Watch Dog’ll be in port ta pick up wot don’t get found. But, b’fore You an’ yer men go, we have a small ceremony… Our Master Carpenter will have th’ honour o’ unveilin’ th’ Lucy’s figurehead… All hands Ashore at th’ Bow!”

Smiles and nods all around, except for a few stuffier individuals, and most everyone headed across the gangway to the wharf and assembled at the bow where a mass of canvas and lines hid the pride and joy of Mister Alder Wenge, Master Carpenter of the Lucy.

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - At the Lucy

William and Jim Warren went over to the Lucy as the call went up for all hands of the cutter to gather at the bow. Jim made a point of congratulating Preston on his promotion as did Preston to Jim. William made a point of naming his alterations to the frigate's muster, so that Dorian would be aware of them in the days and weeks ahead. He also passed a bag of coin to Dorian which represented the last split shares that would serve to buy stores both here and at Trinidad. He also proffered a bottle of fine French spirits for the occasion.

"To prizes sold and prizes retained." William remarked as his eyes fell over the Lucy in the early light.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian accepted the bottle and smiled at the toast offered by William.

“Aye… To that and much more…”

He looked about and into the air.

“Tis a fine beginin’ of th’ day… I’m hopin’ fer th’ breeze ta pick up a touch more, then we’ll sail off th’ wharf… if not, th’ lads’ll be bendin’ th’ sweeps…”

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - at the Lucy

"Sweeps..." William said smiling, his eyes on the bay. "That would be a sight indeed. I haven't manned the sweeps in...well..." he laughed then and would not say how long it had been.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian chuckled at William.

"Oh come now... you've pulled sweeps as of late... mayhaps not of the Lucy's size, but you've certainly pulled on a pair in a longboat or cutter or somesuch..."

Captain Lasseter raised an eyebrow and gave a quirky smile. He then looked back aboard the Lucy at the Cox'n who had just turned the glass and began ringing the bell.

Seven Bells of the Morning Watch

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - At the Lucy

William muttered some comparison about sweeps versus oars and smiled to hear the bells. He took the opportunity to fetch out Stoneburrows pocket watch then and test it against the time kept on the Lucy and Watch Dog, nodding his approval. Echos of the time were sounded by ships all over the bay, with no answering bells ashore. William noted that Jim Warren had purchased a handsome timepiece himself, a benefit of his recent shares and an affectation of his recent promotion. William smiled to see it, though he frowned a bit as well, for he had intended to buy Jim a watch before setting sail, and would now have to find another gift befitting his rise aboard the 'Dog.

[Pew]

Mister O'hara and his counterpart had returned from their business ashore as Preston could best tell, by the large chest carried between the two men.

Preston excused himself from the Captains and met the duo at the gangway. The ships master could not forget the lingering thought of O'hara plunging a weapon into Stoneburrows back.

"Mister Pew, G'uh Mornin'"

"Aye, 'tis. Stow tha' 'n th' Ward Room f'r now. I trust your evening was not spent...alone?" Preston flashed his wry grin and the men laughed.

"Nay sir, 'twas not."

"Very well, Mister Alder is about t' reveal th' lady o' th' ship."

"Aye sah." Both men brushed past Preston and he rejoined the company's officers.

"Ah, one moment gentlemen." Preston hurried behind Patrick and Cyrus. They propped the door for him, when he actually had to reach behind it. The large canvas object was still there. Preston had to reach awkwardly to get it, and needed two hands to do so. He closed the door behind him and unwrapped his purchase on the ward room table.

"álainn" Patrick and Cyrus whispered.

Preston nodded and held the sword in his hand. The first thing attracting the men's attention was the profusely decorated half basket guard.

"French, apparently," Preston stated. The Blacksmith had received the French Naval Officer's sword most recently from parts and persons unknown. He had cleaned and sharpened it to a brilliant glare. The ships master continued, "the rank an' power of a man depended on th' quality and value of his personal weapons. Captain of a ship mayhaps." Preston kept rotating his wrist and looking at both sides of the blade. The strong short pipe back blade with sharp counter edge was light enough for close combat on the deck of a ship or even a weapon ashore. "Right then," Preston placed the weapon back in its unceremonious packaging.

As the three men stepped into rising sunlight, Preston coughed a bit and interrupted the company's officers again. "Pahdon again gentlemen, but a gift for the Lucy's Captain." Preston nodded and handed the canvas gift to Dorian Lasseter.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Preston handed a stretch of canvas to his Captain and friend. As Dorian took hold of it he felt the steel within and took better care as his brow furrowed.

“Wot’s this now?”

He carefully laid back some of the canvas to reveal the polished hilt that was near blinding in the bright morning light.

“Lordy Preston… Where’d ye…”

He let the canvas fall away and held it at arms length, moving it back and forth, testing the balance as well…

“You honour me greatly wi’ this Mister Whitingford… beautiful sword…”

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - At the Lucy

'There it was again aloud.' William thought. Whittingford...a name of distinction in certain circles, though William also imagined that there might be poor and rich who shared the it. Still, he smiled a bit and decided then that he would use the name thereafter, unless Preston should protest its use. William smiled even more to see Jim's brow furrow a bit, wondering what the man made of the name.

Then his smile faltered. Turcotte had appeared among the faces of the docks with a detachment from the fort and a frightened man in tow.

"Excuse me, Gentlemen."

[Black Syren]

A yawn was hidden behind a grimy hand and she took the moment to stretch arching her back to work the sore muscles in her lower back. The stores on the Dog were being replenished and heavily so thanks to Argus. She glanced over her shoulder as she straightened back up taking in the dog sitting near the aft rail and hopefully out of the way. Ciaran drew her attention again as he nudged her towards the next few crates thick with chickens. She shuddered at the beedy eyes of the hens, her hands already pecked till they were splotchy and red, the crew taking delight in her fear of the feathered fowl..”Foul indeed..bloody blighters!” she mumbled beneath her breath. However Alan heard her and leaned near his tones gruff with amusement as he whispered to her “Foul but they do fill your belly do they not?”

Irritation danced in the depths of her eyes as she turned to him and presented her bleeding hands. He merely winked and teased her about being a marine. Defiantly she tossed her head and swept past him towards the chickens who quieted upon her approach. Gritting her teeth she made to lift a crate and the sqwauks and Wing flapping had her leaping back cursing as another round of laughter came from behind her. Now encouragement was being called out and she glared balefully at her audience over her shoulder.

A glint of light from the corner of her eye had her glancing up and about and she could see the Lucy and further afield drifting the Navarra. For a moment she watched the ships floating docilely at their tethers and stiffening her spine she yanked the top crate down spun to her audience with a valiant smile, that suddenly drooped as bird droppings fell upon her shoe. The riot of laughter that ensued had her cursing but in the end her laughter joined theirs and soon the chickens made their way below, next to the goats in the hastily erected pen.

Barrels and casks of rum, salted fish, water, wines spices and other food stores swelled the hold. The squeel of a pig had her turning and she quickly scampered atop a nearby barrel as the pig was placed in the pen.

Taking the good natured ribbing as her due she went back up for the next round, her gaze once more drawn back to the sea, the waves flirtatious as they darted all about the Dog seeming to beckon with their roughness, “Yesterday the sea was a genteel lady and today she is a hoyden.” She said to no one in particular. Tossing her braid back over her shoulder she left the beauty of the sea and bent her back to the work at hand.

[Alder]

The carpenter stood dumbfounded at the realization of Captain Lasseter’s announcement. It hadn’t been that long ago that he was new to this assembly and the honor bestowed seemed overwhelming. Though it was certainly not beyond his capabilities, he considered as he deliberately straightened himself up, but well beyond his expectation.

“Sir?” Alder queried his Captain’s surprising announcement.

“Aye, Mister Wenge, he continued “Time’s come t’ unveil tha’ grand lady.” “You’ve done right by ‘er when she held another name, and now ya shall do right again this day” he transferred the twisted sisal to Alder in as much a handshake as a directive.

The carpenter scanned the gathered mass; some familiar, some unknown, but all bound with him on this journey, if only for this chapter.

With his captain’s nod, Alder ceremoniously tugged at rope and simultaneously prayed to St. Joseph that neither canvas nor tie would bind. With the upsweep of a feral breeze the shroud unexpectedly bellowed aloft before gravity demanded allegiance and tugged it past the bow and away from view.

There she was in all her glory. There was a deafening delay of silence as some drew round even closer to take in the sight. Though expressions belied the calmness, all awaited their Captain’s cue to respond.