The Watch Dog

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

With two hours of the Afternoon Watch gone, William grew impatient. He had never had such a conversation as this. It was like reading the dialogue from two separate plays written by the same author. While they were similar in style, and seemed to approach the same subject at times, the content of Captain's dialogue was utterly different in plot than the Tailor's.

"Allow me to present the whole weight of the matter to you, that the gravity of it might leave an impression more lasting than my opinion alone. We are at war with England. We are given a boon of France to live and to live well if such a life can be maintained. You have met with the enemy of France in France as it exists here in this latitude. Should the French learn of this, they will first ask me why you have done this. If I do not immediately betray you to them, they will ask me a question or more further as touching my part regarding the secret of this English interloper. This will in turn bring great danger to myself and some eight score men and women. If the French do not come, I will have to explain myself to the Whole Company, why I denied them the opportunity to take an English prize. This may spread mutinous thoughts where none existed before. I may, in the end, be trading one fragile alliance for another, because you, casually as you might think, spent the morning in the company of a harmless, old acquaintance."

William paused, but it wasn't so much a pause as a purposeful silence of as much weight as the words.

"I have preserved you in the fore lastage, unmolested, fed and kept. For this I have asked for silence, which takes ony the effort of not speaking. To this preservation I have added my own silence regarding your English friend. You have in turn answered my keeping with words too many, for any word was too many. The glass is not turned to mark the hour and you have spoken."

William shook his head to think of himself explaining this, and was at a loss for further words. When words did come, they were brief. "I don't know what to do with you, Miss McDonough. You will tell me the name of the Captain, his ship and any other information that you can, for if I am to keep this secret, I will keep it all, not in portions."

[Maeve O'Treasaigh]

With everything hastily packed and instructions left w/ the youths from St. Louis, the three ladies stood out on the street looking at the door of the shop. Maeve handed the keys to the two boys and looked one last time upon her home here in Martinique. Briar, sensing her emotion, gripped her hand and held it quietly. BriarRose herself felt a tinge of sadness, but honestly, she felt more relief that she was finally leaving these shores. Disembarking upon a privateer, however questionable, was almost certain to make her trail go as cold as the arctic winds. They had taken great care not to let slip the name of the ship they were heading for to either Father Thomas or the two boys. BriarRose did not want them to be put in a bad position of having knowledge of her whereabouts should her pursuer arrive at St. Louis and question them mercilessly. They had both been a tad sloppy, letting Briar’s face be seen in her home, and allowing herself to answer the door while Maeve was away. BriarRose was glad of the deep cowl that hid her face from view from all but those she wished to see her.

Maeve squeezed her friend’s hand and turned herself resolutely away from the home she loved, and even more so from the memory of the one that she had so foolishly allowed herself to love. I must be mad as a march hare, she thought to herself. Yet, madder still it would be to pass up an opportunity for one in a position such as herself. She could not let go this chance to erase her mistake and begin a new life. With resolve in her heart, she turned to the two hand carts they had loaded with their belongings.

With a nod from Maeve, BriarRose melted off down the street, taking a different path, alone, to the docks. Mandrake mewed pitifully from the cart as she did so. Given their previous lapse of care, Maeve and BriarRose decided that they couldn’t be too cautious now. They’d decided upon a plan whereby Briar was to duck into several places along the way, changing her appearance and dress in small ways as she went until she arrived, looking markedly different, at the docks approximately half of an hour after Maeve and Miss Smith would arrive with all of their belongings.

Once BriarRose was out of site, Maeve and Miss Smith set out for the docks.

[Silkie McDonough]

Aboard the Watch Dog

“Forgive me sah, I ave made many mistakes dis day.” She kept her voice low but even. “Is name is John Christian Sterlin. E es d’capin uv d’Archangel.” She waited for the captain to respond. He gave a barely perceptible nod. “I’ve nil ever seen d’ship er crew. I furst met im on d’sugar plantation uv Mester Andrew Hodge on Barbados. I was enslaved dere fer crimes against d’English crown. I attacked a soldier” The captain remained impassive but he nodded once again so the woman continued. “Capin Sterlin wuz a dinner guest uv mister Hodge. Twas dere we met. E’first asked ow I gots t’bae dere. D’next time e’came e’spoke t’mae again. Tol mae ow t’escape n’where t’meet im. Promised mae passage frum d’island. E’near showed, d’dogs were out n’I was forced t’take passage on d’Apollo er be enslaved unce again.”

[William Brand]

"Will John Sterling come against me and mine?"

[Silkie McDonough]

"Nay e'will not fer I am one uv yers n'ell nil arm mae. E'es a man in mournin n'is deeply saddened by d'loss uv is wife n'chil. Sah, I spent d'mornin oldin is and, erin im pour is eart out" she then added "I nil know wot business e has in Martinique."

[William Brand]

William asked no more questions of her regarding John Sterling. Whether he had come to a decision or not, he made no mention of it to her, but he lingered. This lingering lasted some time and this made for an uncomfortable scene. He seemed to be waiting for something more, but then quite suddenly he altered the course of the conversation.

"Why is Miss Ashcombe in flight, and from whom?"

[Silkie McDonough]

"I ...aaah." she was taken aback, Jenny? "She, er relation, E'wuz abusin er. I seen er eye d'las time n'd'fear in er eyes n'I knew she couldn't stay back n'I coud nay leave er t'live wit a man like det. I brought er t'ya & capin Lasster ...she splained itall t'capin Lasster or mid day meal afore I came t'speak wit ya det same day sah."

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

"Explained all to Captain Lasseter." William repeated slowly, and his face changed in a way that was not at all pleasant. "Miss McDonough." William said as he went out.

His departure was sudden and absolute with no added warnings or revelations voiced. However, he did make a point of threatening, by way of instruction to John McGinty, any would-be-fool stupid enough to speak with Murin.

"No one is to speak with the prisoner."

"Aye, Sah."

"Should I hear of any words shared, I shall for my part be most unsatisfied."

"Aye, Sah." John agreed. "None shall speak ta her, Sah."

"Thank you, Mister McGinty."

William returned to the weatherdecks, where he found Richard Tollervy returned from his errands ashore, along with Christophe Lefevre, Thomas Crips and Alain Roux. Each man carried with him the evidence of their recent trip ashore. Thomas sported a fine fiddle; worn, well oiled and of a good make. Alain bore several parcels containing clothing and personal effects, along with a hammock. Monsieur Lefevre carried with him a dog-eared bible which had seen much use and would know more at this hands. And Richard, an accipitrary from another life, was bent over admiring three very fat pigeons and two large corvids housed in separate, poorly fashioned cages.

"It pleases me to see my orders accomplished so absolutely." William said, his voice tired. "What have we found, Mister Tollervy."

"Some good small birds, Captain...for messages if they can be made to do the work." Richard explained. "And some African birds which might be put to use." he said, pointing to the black and white ravens.

Very good, Mister Tollervy." William agreed, and he smiled to see the familiar species.

"Sah...?"

"Yes, Mister Tollervy."

"Might I have the carpenter make a proper place to keep the birds, Sah?"

"Aye, Mister Tollervy. See to it that Mister Gree..." William began, but he was interrupted by the arrival of a letter which came by messenger to Paul Mooney at the gang plank and on upwards to William. "To your posts, Gentlemen." William said as he took the letter aside to read it at the taff trail.

William noted that the letter was worn as if worried by long travel or fretful hands. He turned it over and was delighted to see that the paper was affixed with the familiar seal of the Chasse de Mer. William smiled as he broke the wax and opened it with a sense of familiarity that might have gone a long way to improving his mood, but for the contents. William was certain that the letter would cheer him up, but from the first sentence on he was mistaken. Every sentence was a blow, and like so many coffin nails, he tired as each one drove home.

Afterwards, he stood some several minutes in silence, his eyes closed and his face turned to the sun. Jim Warren, noting that the heat of Sol did nothing to chase the shadow from William's face, made an effort to ask after him, but William gave the deck over to the Ship's Master and went below without another word.

News of the death of Jean Micheale Fournier had finally arrived at William's door.

Five bells of the Afternoon Watch

[Silkie McDonough]

Aboard the Lucy

His stomach was still churning but there was little that could be done about that. The feeling would go away …eventually. When the call came to handle the sails Ben pulled himself from the rail and stepped to it. The work was welcome, giving him focus. The crew, many new to each other, need not share words in their work. When an order was given each knew what action was needed in response. Taking part in bringing the ship to her present place in the water, hauling and easing lines, halting her forward motion, even making ready for the next sail was done with little need for word. Mister Quigley remained unwell but the comfort of the familiar work settled his mind if not his stomach.

Once the ship was anchored and the coils set and his work no longer required his focus the presence of the French on the vessel began to make him uneasy. Had he turned allegiance too easily? Perhaps being ill at ease in the presence of these soldiers was natural for a man who had spent the past too many months sleeping, waking, eating and fighting at the whim of such men. He was a sailor not a soldier. He had never fought for the English simply worked the lines and helped to ensure that she got to her destination, her safety was left to others more skilled than he. Once he found his sea legs again he would need to learn to fight with steel rather than his fists. He looked about at the soldiers and mariners about him. Yes, to fight along side of this crew would be an honor but against the English along side of the French? The French presence on the ship kept him on his guard. He remained at his station light line in hand absentmindedly weaving a Turks Head, attempting to hide any evidence of his disquiet

[Black Syren]

A man seemed to stand out in the crowd, almost out of place in his fancy garb, for he bore no wig that she could see but his own natural hair. That and the lady upon his arm seemed to preen and sashay and she was curious about enough to not take note of The Captains discerning eye upon her person.

Heavy tread caused her to look up in alarm to see Brenton Lund bearing down upon her and she arched a brow and stood her ground as he met her side and lowered his head to speak in gruff tones before offering his escort back to the Ward Room.

Shocked that she was being sent back to the Ward when it was clear they would cast off soon she leaned past Brenton to see if she could find Captain Brand only to discover him turning upon his heel his face expressionless and yet cold. Reminding her of the night he had aided her in that alley, a shiver of trepidation ran down her spine and she could not refrain from a shudder. Brenton seeing the shudder frowned thinking her feverish and spoke hastily of her returning to the Ward Room.

Drawing her gaze away from the Captain and briefly back to the Docks she noted that the couple she had been watching were no longer about. Pity she had favored his frock coat. A lick of dry lips and she swung her gaze out to the harbour but could not see the Lucy though the Navarra seemed also readying to make way.

Brilliant turquoise gaze locked with Brenton’s own brown gaze and asked “When do we make way..and the Lucy has not returned as of yet?”

“Soon Miss Tribbiani now if ye’ll follow me eh?” so saying he swung about and she trailed in his wake almost forlornly. There was nothing more exciting than being at her post and watching a town come into view or leaving it behind. Unless it was a storm upon the sea…with a heavy sigh she followed meekly.

Once more ensconced in the room she began to pace still cupping and cradling her throbbing hand to her chest. She had once seen a caged leopard pacing in it's small cage and suddenly she paused likening herself to the pacing beast.

[Pew]

Aboard the Lucy

“I’ll allow it this time Mister Brisbane. Once things are established I order you ta find a tailor in this port and have a fine coat made. That goes fer all of you officers… Unless ye’ve drained yer coffers on th’ tarts in Fort Royal, you can well afford it… and if not, see me later an’ we’ll arrange somat. Understood?”

Captain Lasseter crossed his arms waiting for a reply.

Preston managed to sneak an elbow into the ribcage of the Cox'un. Nigel jumped and grimaced slightly adding to the color of his demeanor.

"Aye!" quickly came from Nigel, more from being startled than being in agreement. Nigel quickly shot a look in his direction, but Preston wouldn't turn his head.

The Ship's Master called aloud to each of the men the Captain recommended.

"Misters Flint, Brisbane an’ Tucker…an' Mister Wenge… You 'ave 2 minutes t' find y'er best an' r'port back." A hearty "AYE!" came from those selected. Preston grabbed the elbow of the Master at Arms. "Bill, make sure each man 'as a pistol n' shot, 's well 's a blade. Jus' b'cause we're 'n a friendly port, dinnot mean the port 's friendly." Bill nodded and hurried below.

_____________

Navigation Log of the Lucy:

Direction: At anchor, bow facing N

Speed: At rest

Wind: Northerly breeze, two points off the bow

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William sat a long while in the great chair. He had turned it towards the sea, but never once looked out the window. He looked like a man more advanced in years and he made no effort to comfort himself with words or ideas ennobling. He simply sat and let the weight of everything rest upon him for the moment. The past few days had been long and he was too much in the dark regarding what had been and what was to come. He hated not knowing what to do when his very position required it of him. He wanted advice, council or any word which might illuminate a path before him, but in his present mood he would not ask for it.

Fournier's death would have been too much alone, but added to everything which had come before, it was overwhelming. He had not repaid his debt to the man and now he never would.

A knock came at the door then and William was on his feet as if nothing had come before. He composed himself at once and gave permission for the unknown solicitor to enter. Owen Monahan put his head in at the door and said, "Beg Pardon, Sah. The lads Stoir and Dash 'ave brought three boys aboard."

"Three." William managed appreciatively. "Thank you, Mister Monahan. Show them in."

William repositioned his chair at the table and composed himself while Owen fetched the new recruits. Lukas Stoir and William Dash arrived with two very dirty urchins and one pristine lad dressed in a bright, seemingly new waistcoat. The first two did not surprise William, but the third stood out, being clothed better than even his own younkers. "Report, Mister Stoir." William said, forgetting the lad's lack of English. "Uhh...Verklaar...de...jong... Damn." William's Dutch was as old as he felt. "Parlez-vous français, jeune homme?" William asked, but he was certain Lukas spoke enough French to understand.

"Oui." Lukas answered, and having guessed at William's poor Dutch question he continued. "Je vous...ai trouvé deux bons...jongens...no...garçons!" He smiled, then quickly added, "Capitaine."

William nodded, for they did indeed look like 'good boys'. They were dirty to be sure and the smell they brought with them was of the sea and the street, but the first, Jules Laborde, looked to be strong, and the second, Maurice DeCuir was in good health. Both boys were French, but Laborde had some command of English and DeCuir was young enough to learn what was needed. William questioned them both, learning that they were orphans of orphans, having been fathered in a brothel and left like so much baggage at Martinique. William accepted them both and instructed Lukas to see them to the Boatswain that they might be outfitted immediately.

William Dash remained, but he could not explain Ignace Frances Bordelon. The French lad had come along the docks with a trunk, seabag and more papers than William Dash had ever seen on a lad nearly his own age. "Sorry, sah. He and Lukas spoke some in French, but I..."

William nodded and dismissed Mister Dash. When he was gone and William was alone with the boy he asked him both in English and French to explain himself.

"I am Ignace Frances Bordelon. Fifth son to Albert John Voinche Bordelon. Please, I am request to join Le Chien de garde." he said with a raised chin and confidence beyond his years.

William raised an eyebrow and smiled a little. The distraction of such an unusual recruit was a relief in and of itself, but the boy also had a bearing which William liked. Fifth sons in this world were often extra sons and the fact that the boy had come alone to the docks said much about his worth and even more about his confidence. With recent alliances threatened, William favored the idea of bringing aboard a boy of some means with ties to the island, and as he rounded out the number of younkers, the lad would find a place aboard. William asked him only a few more questions and then sent him forward to seek out the Boatswain.

William spent the next few minutes penning in the names of the final recruits, careful to note the eventual arrival of Miss O'Treasaigh and Miss Kildare. This done, he plucked up his hat and went again into the sun. There to send down orders to move the Watch Dog.

Starboard Watches on Duty

[Dorian Lasseter]

The Lucy

Saint Pierre, Martinique

Dorian watched his officers head below to ready themselves for heading ashore. He tilted his head to the side and gave a look to Preston.

“I saw what ye did ta Nigel… Don’t complain when he finds a way ta get ye back…”

Preston looked to his Captain with the best innocent face he could muster, to which Dorian just shook his head.

“I’ll be in th’ ward Room for a time, see what all I need ta tidy up an’ look my best. Be so kind as to inform Lieutenant Martin we should be ready within an hours time. Are you going to come along or beg off as well?”

He did not wait to hear an answer from the Ships Master, but turned away to conceal a smile and headed aft and through the door to the Ward Room. Miss Ashcombe stood as he entered and he smiled at her. She smiled back somewhat timidly and curtsied. Off came Dorian’s hat and onto the table it went. He took off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair and turned to his small cache of weapons.

“Miss Ashcombe, several of the officers and I will be headed ashore to meet with a Monsieur Arnaud Richet, one of the Admiralty Judges here in Saint Pierre… Do you know of this man?”

He turned to her as he spoke and waited to see what she might say.

“Non… No, I do not know of Monsieur Richet, I have been to Saint Pierre only twice, mainly to watch my uncles’ children…”

She felt a slight pang as she spoke of the children, whom she would miss dearly.

Dorian nodded and crossed his arms. He touched a finger to his lips in thought and stood silent for a moment before nodding again and turning back to the corner of the Wardroom. He selected the Mortuary sword on its heavy baldric and slung it over his shoulder, adjusting it until it felt right. He pulled the sea service pistol from his belt and checked it, satisfied that it was in proper order he clipped it back on his belt. He turned and made to take up his coat but paused as his eyes stopped on the sideboard with the bottle of wine still sitting on top with the tray. Another small nod of his head and he again looked to Miss Ashcombe.

“Miss Ashcombe, would you do me the honour of selectin’ a bottle of wine to present ta Monsieur Richet? It would be most appreciated…”

[Maeve O'Treasaigh]

Miss Smith and Maeve approached the gangplank of the Watch Dog. The chirurgeon felt a sudden surge of nervous adrenaline as she looked upon her new home. It bustled with activity. For a moment, she considered turning back, now truly believing herself to be mad for accepting such an assignment. The idea of being confined for unknown periods of time on a ship didn’t honestly appeal to her all that much. She’d had quite enough of it on her journey here with her father. Still…deep in her heart, she knew it was the right thing to do and so took courage in the knowledge.

Miss Smith noticed Maeve pausing overly long at the gangplanks and gave her a questioning look. Maeve returned a wan smile and began pushing her cart up the plank, Mandrake mewing the entire time.

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William watched as Tudor and Maeve made their way up the gangplank. The carts became problematic at once, and though Maeve's arrival surprised Jim Warren, he had the belongings taken aft at once while the carts were returned to Earth. Maeve went with her things and managed to look at home and completely lost at the same time. William did Maeve the courtesy of meeting her at the forward door of the surgery.

"Welcome aboard, Miss O'Treasaigh."

[Maeve O'Treasaigh]

She dropped a small curtsy to Captain Brand. “Sir”, she said mildly. “As you can see, I’ve arrived in good order. Miss Kildaire should be arrivin’ within the half hour and….oh!”, Maeve stopped abruptly, stooping quickly to catch Mandrake by the nape of the neck just before he darted across the weather decks. Captain Brand looked as though he was about to reply to this until the sudden commotion. Maeve stood back up, holding the kitten firmly. “I wasn’t sure if it was presumptuous ta bring aboard a…pet without askin’ yer permission first. I didn’t think ta ask ya what with everything happenin’ so quickly”.

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William tried looking at the cat with a detached eye, for ironically, he had always preferred them to dogs. This preference was mild, for he had known a few canines with an affection near to friendship, but he set his favor and memories aside and considered the cat. He plucked it from her hands and hefted it a moment.

"This can't have been a pet long, Miss O'Treasaigh. Would the loss of it prevent you from joining us?"

[Maeve O'Treasaigh]

"No sir", she replied quietly. "The cat has no bearing on whether or not I stay. In truth, the cat belongs to Miss Kildaire, though, if the cat can't stay, I daresay she'd choose this unprecedented opportunity and my continued companionship over a cat", she said confidently enough.

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

"Thank you, Miss O'Treasaigh." William appreciated both her candor and pragmatism. It made his decision easier and it lent credence to another matter on his mind. "If you will pardon me for a moment." He nodded by way of a bow and went out with cat in hand. He made his way forward along the rail until he reached the gangplank, where he found Robert Thatcher. "Mister Thatcher."

"Sah."

"Please find a favorable home for this."

William passed the kitten to the surprised marine, who took it with a bemused grin. "Uh...aye, Sah." William fished into one of the pockets of his waistcoat and brought out several small, mixed coins. He gave these to Robert.

"Fare and...lodging." William explained.

"Very good, Sah."

Robert went at once into the crowd to find a child or woman who would take the cat. William watched him go. Then he turned on his heel and called for the Ship's Master with many orders to him and others to make ready the 'Dog for departure. Only Miss Kildare kept them at the docks now.

[Pew]

Aboard the Watch Dog

Eric watched as the one cat went back ashore and Mister Thatcher had the unceremonious duty of the deposit of such. After Captain Brand called for the Master, Eric Franklin presented himself before the Captain in what had seemed like ages. Eric looked fore and aft at the new recruits, both human and non. As Argus lept after one of the cats, he nearly knocked over Owen whom commenced in a pure curse upon curses.

"Cap'n," Eric politely offered, "shall I have the cook bring the livestock on two by two?"

[William Brand]

"That will do, Mister Franklin." William said, narrowing his eyes at Eric. Then he ordered Eric to stand aft where he asked him to consider the names of two more marines for the Larboard Watch and told him to be ready to present them before eight bells. He also discussed the matter of Miss McDonough, explaining that no one was to speak with her on the matter of her imprisonment or any other matter, for the nature of her crime was sufficient to keep her there until he had spoken with Captain Lasseter.

[Pew]

"Any need for drastic measures sah, 's far 's Miss McDonough?"

Eric was ready to keep the woman from speaking, whether it was her choice or not.

[William Brand]

August 4, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William shook his head very slowly. "No, Mister Franklin. She has it from me that any word spoken would be most unwise. If she chooses to speak on any important matters, then she will be condemned by her words and actions." He paused, then said, "Her position aboard this ship is in question, but for the present she is to be treated as our guest. Is that understood?"

[Pew]

"Aye sah, very clear sah. The marines on watch will hear of me on it."

Eric noticed the Captain's overall pallor had become increasingly heavy.

"Beggin' y' pahdon sah, a word sah, in private?"

[William Brand]

William nodded. "Mister Warren. You have the deck." William invited Eric aft, and once the Ward Room door was closed, William invited him to sit. "I appreciated your efforts regarding our men before." William poured him a drink, but none for himself. He sat the glass before Eric and asked him to proceed.