The Watch Dog

[Black Syren]

The sound of many feet and anxious voices had her leaping from the door and just in time for it swung open and men poured into the small room followed by Maeve, who looked very tired but also very competent as she directed men about. Luigi also managed to sit up and she frowned at him before catching a glimpse of Joshua and felt her eyes widen at his condition. Trying to stay out of the way she watched as another was brought in and could make a glimpse of Ajayi. A hand pressed to her mouth in shock and she felt Luigi take her hand and squeeze. “Who would do such a thing and why?” She whispered. Ajayi had always been nice to her, he had shown her how to use hand commands to begin training Argus, he had also managed to save her from a slip as she had climbed up to the nest.

Both men looked bad and near death to her but one look at Maeve’s determined face had her doubting they would go without a fight. This suregeon had pluck to her and Treasure liked that. Once most of the room cleared she knew Maeve had forgotten their prescence and squeezing Luigi’s hand moved forwards “How can I assist you?”

[Dorian Lasseter]

It was almost odd for Captain Lasseter, being aboard the Watch Dog at the moment. He had not been in command of the Lucy for very long, yet he already felt out of place on the frigate. His old quarters were now taken up by another, so he didn’t have a place to dwell besides the Wardroom. Maybe it was just his fatigue from the time ashore that made him feel that way. One thing he knew for sure, once he had taken up the offer of a scrub and a borrowed clean shirt, he needed a drink. The taste of pipe tobacco was on his lips and in his mouth, though pleasant it made his mouth feel dry. The crew were well into getting the ship’s anchor from the bottom and sails were being shaken out. Time to get cleaned up and have that drink. Dorian headed aft and below, found Miss Smith and ‘borrowed’ his old quarters to groom himself. A good scrub down and dry off, clean shirt, redressed and armed, he made his way to the wardroom to meet back up with William and Durand, who were already enjoying a bottle of wine and had a glass waiting for him.

“Gennelmen… I see you know my mind. Have I missed a toast?”

Dorian took up his glass and waited to see if a toast was offered from Captain Brand or Monsieur L’Ours before he’d sample the dark spirits.

[William Brand]

No toast was given as Tudor came and went more than once with a fresh bowl and pitcher. Instead, they drank and talked about the prevailing wind and the best course from Martinique. Dorian sat at the table with one leg on a chair, allowing his tired back some respite. William had propped himself into a corner of the stern bench and seemed content to watch a shrinking St. Pierre. Durand stood opposite Dorian at the table and bathed his face and hands. With his sleeves rolled back he revealed many altercations from his past. He was riddled with numerous scars of brawls, battles and not a few relationships more intimate. He was also possessed of arms bigger than any man aboard.

As the frigate began her slow turn Southward, William raised his glass. "A toast, Gentlemen." Durand stopped toweling off his face and plucked up his glass. Dorian raised his own. "To any place but here...no offense given to all France elsewhere."

Durand smiled ruefully. "Damn Martinique and damn the rum trade."

"Here, here." Dorian agreed, then muttered something about 'bloody barons' into his glass.

Tudor, the ever present steward, well practiced in the art of absence while in the room, made no reply. She simply refreshed the water, restored the emptied glasses and William dismissed her to a well deserved rest. He smiled at her warmly as she went.

With Tudor gone, Durand plucked out his eye and rinsed it in the basin. It was hard for any man not to stare at such a casual, gruesome, but somehow fascinating act, but Durand did not seem to mind the quiet that noticeably visited the room, and now that his eye was removed they had their first real look at it. Without being asked, Durand passed it to Dorian who received it at once.

"Well, well..." He murmured, peering at it admirably. He put it near the lantern to see it better.

"May I?" William asked from the window and Durand nodded, already distracted by the wear and condition of own his shirt. Dorian stepped over to the window, but not before one pronounced groan as he went from sitting to standing. Dorian said something in Gaelic that William took for 'sodding horse' or something equally terse. Dorian passed the unusual eye to William before taking up the other end of the bench with a raised glass in the direction of the port falling away off their larboard.

"It's...a cabochon." William said, surprised. He rotated the strange brown-black sapphire appreciatively. "A man might lose his whole head for such a stone." It was an observation and a question all at once, for while the stone now explained one of the many reasons that Durand's gaze could be unsettling, it still begged the question 'Why this before glass?'.

Durand shrugged. "The Almighty affixed me with two...très...precious orbs, Capitaine. As I ze fool lost ze first, I sought another." The French in Durand was showing more as he drank.

"And should you die...?" William asked, trying to keep a smile from his face.

"I shall swallow it first." Durand returned without pause.

Dorian raised his glass. "More work for the mortician." They all took this for a toast and drank their glasses dry.

[Pew]

Aboard the Lucy

Preston was deep in slumber when the gentle rap came upon the ward room door. The ship's master nearly fell out his chair when he was awoken. He rubbed his eyes and yawned heartily on his way to answer. In mid-step, he wondered of Ash's whereabouts. He yawned again as he unlatched the door. To his surprise, young Hindrik Kalfkin was there, trembling.

"Wot is it lad?" asked Preston.

The young boy removed his cap and wrung it in his hands. "Ser, can I..." the boy stammered for a moment before Preston waved his hand and let him into the room. Mister Whitingford lit a shaded lantern and placed it in the center of the table. Young Saal hopped into one of the seats. He drug one of the tomes from the center of the table and leafed through it. Preston ran his palm over the rough stubble he had acquired in the last several days.

"C'n I 'elp ya lad?"

"I kannot sleep ser," replied the lad quietly.

"Son, we're at rest. Mister Flint 'as th' marines on watch. Mister Brisb'n 'as th' watch now. We're quite safe Saal," Preston reassured the young boy.

Saal closed the book slowly, hung his head, and sighed. "Mother and Father have been gone 2 yearz now." The young boy clasped his hands together and rested them on the book. He laid his head on his hands now. "I mizz them Meezter Pew."

Preston placed his palms on the table and sighed. It was to be a long night.

[Maeve O'Treasaigh]

With the captains gone, Maeve finally allowed herself to melt and the weariness she’d been feeling burst the damns. A warning look from Briar, returned by a silent plea from Maeve was all it took for Miss Kildaire to take complete charge of the situation. Enlisting a limited amount of Treasure’s help, the two ladies set about making the patients as comfortable as possible, and began mixing herbs and poultices. Maeve slunk into her quarters and shut the door, not quite remembering the last time she’d been so grateful to be allowed to slip into the oblivion of sleep.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Their glasses had been filled and drained one more time before their guest bagged his forgiveness and asked of what arrangements had been made for him to sleep. Captain Brand had only to call Miss Smith and she dutifully took charge, having Monsieur L’Ours follow her to his quarters. That left Dorian and William sitting, contemplating their empty glasses.

“I s’pose we’ll make Fort Royal before dawn… I do believe that’ll be time enough fer a nap, a well deserved nap for us both… Ship’s in good hands and *yawn* I don’t think I could stand a watch without some rest…”

William nodded and tried to hold back a yawn, but was unsuccessful. He shook it off and stood, placed his glass on the table and stretched his back.

“Agreed. I feel as if I haven’t slept in a fortnight… I am a stranger to my bed.”

Dorian chuckled at the comment and slowly stood, also placing his glass on the table.

“When we make port, I’ll head to the Lucy, see wot Master Whittin’ferd made of the Navarra’s cap’n. I would hope Cap’n Avendano can wait til a decent hour to meet again. Well, nothing to worry about til we get there… Go… become fast friends again with your bed… I’ll do the same with a hammock of my choosing. Sleep well my friend…”

Dorian put a hand on Williams’ shoulder as a parting gesture and a final goodnight was exchanged before he left the wardroom. Out of old habit he had not broken, he made his way the the QuarterMaster’s quarters and as he grasped the handle remembered again they were no longer his quarters.

“Damn me…”

Turning away from the door, he made his way forward and out into the waist, thinking where he might sleep, but the fog of his weariness clouded his mind. Dorian shrugged and headed back to the wardroom, He’d settle for a nap on the sternbench.

Just after Seven Bells of the First Watch, Starboard Watch on Duty

[William Brand]

August 6, 1704 - Cul du Sac Royal

The world revolved a little, indifferent to their fatigue. A few short hours slipped by and they were bearing into the shallowing confines of the Cul du Sac Royal. They found many frigates and merchants asleep there, but for their watchmen. It was a quiet night, or more to the point, morning, and the watch officers of the Lucy exchanged only the simplest of acknowledgments with the Watch Dog as she slipped up alongside to gam with the cutter. The ships joined at the hip with little fanfare. The initial bump and the activity that followed raised Captain Lasseter, who stole from the room without waking William sleeping near by.

Dorian arrived on deck to find lines being fixed between the two ships. He bathed his face three times at the dipper on the Mainmast, shaking water and sleep from his face and hands.

"Cap'n Lasseter." said a gruff voice at his elbow. Badger offered him a heavy cup of Lazarus' 'nightwatch coffee', black stuff sweetened only with rum. A gang plank was laid across and down to the Lucy from the Watch Dog and they exchanged news with Nigel Brisbane and a small gathering of the Lucy's Larboard Watch.

The eyes of the Navarra were upon them.

Between six and seven bells of the Mid Watch

Larboard Watches on Duty

[Dorian Lasseter]

Deck of the Lucy

Captain Lasseter had downed a third of his cup of ‘Nightwatch’ before feeling any affect from it. He had come aboard his ship from the Frigate and spoken with those officers on deck, soon joined by the Ship’s Master. By the time he had finished the brew he had learned all about the odd yet successful dinner aboard the Spanish Merchant and other sundry happenings. All was quiet and secure according to the Master-at-Arms and the reports from the lookouts. Dorian was pleased that his crew were working quite well together in such a short time.

In a couple short hours it would be dawn and much activity would commence. The Watch Dog and her consort, The Lucy would escort the Merchant ship Navarra to Trinidad once the captains of the three ships had convened and made the final arrangements for the journey. His thoughts drifted some as the men around him gave their reports and the Captain knew his fatigue had not left him entirely. Dorian thanked his officers and pardoned himself, leaving an order to alert him when Captain Brand made an appearance, or any word came from the Navarra. Brows were knuckled and Dorian headed to the Wardroom so that he might write up what had transpired over night, and if time would allow, another short nap, and lastly to change out of his finery into working clothes.

[Pew]

Preston awoke with his forehead firmly planted on the backs of his hands. Saal had long since left the Ward Room and Ash still hadn't been seen. The Ship's master stood as he felt a nudge alongside the Lucy. He joined those men already on deck to see the crew from the Watch Dog tossing lines from the waist.

A brief conversation among all board continued until Dorian excused himself and Preston followed him into the Ward Room.

"I thought you'd been pressganged an' 'alfway t' Gravesend b' now," smiled Preston as the door latched behind them.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Jenny steadied the tray of cheese, bread and dark coffee. She inhaled the aroma of the steaming mugs and tread carefully back to the ward room from the Lucy's galley where she had found Mr. Marsh peeling potatoes and preparing fare for the watch change at first light.

A young lads voice and that of the ships master had woken her in the night and she lain for some time listening to their quiet conversation. Mr. Pew spent some time telling the boy a tale of his early sailing days adding a lesson or two until the boy began to yawn and was sent on his way. There was the sound of a tankard being refilled and shortly thereafter the snores of the Ship's Master.

Jenny no longer in want of rest, dressed and had gone quietly out on the deck of the Lucy to breathe some fresh air while the night would hide her. She'd heard the Watch Dog hail the Lucy and hurried to retrieve victuals and hot drink when it became apparent the men calling out had boarded, Captain Lasseter among them.

Jenny reached for the door steadying the tray against one hip and stepped down to find the Captain dressed in formal coat and acoutrements, one foot upon a chair and an arm across his knee. His countenance was calm but weary. Mr Pew stood nearby arms crossed and his empty cup hung casually from one hand. Neither wore an expression to give any cause for alarm or boding of bad news. Both men paused in their conversation as she entered. "Sirs" Jenny said and affected as much of a curtsy as possible with her arms laden. Pew grasped the tray and placed it on the table. "Thank you Mr. Pew" she said acknowledged by his usual curt but friendly nod. "welcome Captain it is good to see you well and returned to the Lucy"

[William Brand]

August 6, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William was roused by his own steward, though he had woken several times during the night. It had been an awful morning for sleep when sleep was wanted most. William had woken some six times at least from nightmares and noises. His arm had gone to sleep on him twice, causing him to search out comfort he normally had no trouble finding, but as tired as he was he surrendered to waking and climbed from his hammock.

"If I may, sir...you look worse for sleeping." Tudor said to him when he came into the Ward Room proper. She was pouring water into the basin at the table.

"If it can be called sleep." William returned, rubbing both eyes with the heels of his hands. She watched his waking routine with the passing interest of one who had witnessed it a hundred times. Several slow, deliberate, and unconscious noises escaped William in the form of yawns, groans and a few protracted grumblings that were neither words or yawns.

"It is not your habit to sleep poorly." She observed.

"Christ on the Galilee, I am not."

"Sah?"

William waved away the unexplained allusion with a hand. His right knee was feeling unsure of itself and William mumbled something about 'cripples in church' before placing himself in his usual nook, his back to the bulkhead at the larboard end of the stern bench. He often sat there, with one leg sprawled out along the bench, his other foot placed soundly on the floor. Tudor was ever putting away books left there by the windows.

Tudor brought him fresh biscuits with heavy butter. There were also preserves of an origin William couldn't place, but like the other ingredients, the jam was probably a benefit of the island and he savored it gratefully. Fresh and unmarred flavors would fade with time at sea and he knew never to be ungrateful of them. "Ahhhh...bread that gives before teeth." William smiled, thanking her, and as always, he invited her to sit and he bent her ear with the weight of many matters, including their unusual guest, Durand.

"May I ask if he gave reasons for joining us, sah?" she asked, refreshing her own cup.

"He had a need and I a debt. I asked no more of him." William admitted, uncertain why Durand should quit the island so suddenly. Perhaps the encounter with Rousseau had soured Durand's stay at Martinique. Perhaps Durand saw an opportunity in the moment and took it.

As if to counterpoint their curiosity, a knock came at the door and Tudor ushered in an equally weary looking Durand. William welcomed him and offered a seat at his table. He inquired after the man's health.

"I despise the sea." Durand admitted.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aboard the Lucy

Dorian had given a tired chuckle to Preston’s comment about being pressganged.

“Oh no… never again, not this lad…”

He was about to remove his coat when the door to the wardroom opened and in came Miss Ashcombe, burdened with a tray. Greetings were made and Captain Lasseter thanked her for the welcome.

“Thankee Miss Ashcombe, tis good ta be back aboard… spent too much time on land with to many poorly bred aristocrats…”

Again Dorian made to remove his coat and his Steward attended him, taking it from him and finding a place to hang it. She followed suit as he removed his sword belt as well. His hat had been laid on the table and was also retrieved and hung on a hook beside the exterior door. Dorian crossed the small room and found a particular ledger, selected a pen and inkpot from his desk, bringing it all to the wardroom table where he bade Preston and Jenny to sit while he did some paperwork. He wrote and made comments as he did so, fielding questions from the Ship’s Master for the most part and also noted an odd look from his Steward at the mention of Monsieur L’Ours coming aboard as a passenger on the Watch Dog. He wrote in fine detail about the events of the past two days until his eyes burned. Even with the help of more coffee and the bread and cheese he could not finish. Closing the inkpot and setting aside the pen, Dorian openly yawned before he could try to stop it. He was barely able to cover his mouth and apologized to the present company.

“I beg yer apologies… just been too long a night and such. The only sleep I’ve had this night was on the stern bench o th’ Dog from Saint Pierre ta here. I wish to turn in for a time, hopefully time enough before we are ta make our way as escort. Do not hesitate to awaken me if necessary. Mister Whittingford, Miss Ashcombe…”

The Captain stood slowly and both Jenny and Preston did as well. Preston bid a short farewell and made his way out of the wardroom, while Jenny cleared the table of spent vessels of coffee and a half empty plate of bread and cheese. She curtsied and took the tray out and to the galley. Dorian stretched again, placing his hands on an overhead beam and braced himself a moment before heading over to where his hammock was stowed. There he made himself ready for a nap, yet also ready to come on deck at a moments notice. He changed out of the fine breeches and into a working pair and made ready his old coat as well. Just as he was about to lay himself down, his Steward returned and asked if he might need anything else. As he did not, she again curtsied and made her way to her small piece of privacy in the Wardroom.

[William Brand]

August 6, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Eight bells of the Mid Watch. Morning Watch begins.

William finished eating before Durand, and excused himself to the quarterdeck at the changing of the watches. He left an ill looking L'Ours in the company of an indifferent Steward, who did not understand Durand's merits enough to be openly cordial to him.

William was glad of the dark as he watched the coming and going of watches, for the air had finally cooled enough to be comfortable. He was reminded of deserts a lifetime ago, but the thought was interrupted by the arrival of a better rested Jack Roberts and a welcoming Jim Warren who stood at the rail with him and discussed many matters, though they had only begun to talk when Mister Roberts noticed Mister Hingerty lingering at the stairs.

"Your watch is ended, Mister Hingerty." Jack explained.

"Aye, sah." Manus agreed, but lingered still, monmouth cap in hand.

"Is there a problem there?" William asked.

"No, sah. I mean...well, yes...sah."

The three officers waited, and Hingerty looked embarrassed for the pause. "Spit it out, man." William said, but not impatiently.

"Well, you'll beg pard'n, Cap'n, but...the day be a Wednesday, sah."

William blinked and slowly shook his head, not understanding the reasoning for such an obvious observation, but Jim caught the man's intention. "What Mister Hingerty means to say, sah, is that he has been the Liar for a week and two days."

"Ahhh." William nodded, and tried not to smile. "Of course. You are pardoned of that duty, Mister Hingerty. Draw an extra rum ration ere you retire."

Manus smiled ruefully and saluted as he went. There was a chuckle between the three and they returned to conversation.

Starboard Watches on Duty

[Pew]

Aboard the Lucy

Preston yawned as he made his way across the deck waiting for the coffee to do its job. Sadly, it had not. Preston was tired. He had yet to get a true night's sleep in what seemed like days. He wished to see Eric and spill a bottle with him. But his friend would have to wait. Preston sloughed below in search of an open hammock.

He happened upon one near the stair. Far enough away from the early morning's revelry, yet close enough to catch some assemblance of a breeze wafting below. Clutching both sides of the hammock, he dropped like a stone into its belly. Within a few moments, he was deep in slumber.

__________________________________________________________

Navigation Log of the Lucy:

Direction: Bow facing NE; tied alongside the Watch Dog

Speed: At rest

Wind: Calm, from the N

[Black Syren]

Fluffing pillows and settling blankets seemed to be the easiest of the duties, those she had been entrusted with. Briar added poultices and checked stitches and bandages making sure all was well and had not any further damage from the trip over. A wash basin sat nearby and was full of cool water and taking a small rag of linen she dipped it into the bowl then wrung it out and bathed the faces of the men careful of their wounds. Both men had not had the best of it and even to her untrained eye they looked as if they hovered near death’s door. As both settled into a deeper sleep she looked to where Lugi lay and moved to him seeing him awake.

“Is all well Luigi?” She asked pitching her voice low so as to not disturb the others and watched him smile then fade into a grimace. “Nay Bella all is well, just a little bit of pain.” Looking over her shoulder she could see Briar putting things away and cleaning up and knelt by Luigi’s side and carefully took his damaged hand in hers and slowly kneaded at the knotted muscles in his forearm and the top of his wrist and hand. “You should have more laudnam as well, but perhaps this will help ease your pain some.” Tirelessly she worked till he had drifted to sleep, lines carved deep into her countryman’s face. Placing his hand gingerly atop the covers she rose unsteadily and stretched before making her way back to Briar and assisting her in putting things away.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“Nay, for now we let them all rest. They should sleep throughout the night. Tomorrow will be a different story.”

Nodding she asked if she could fetch food from the galley and Briar realizing she was hungry nodded her assent and Treasure quickly headed out the door and headed onto the deck. Taking a deep lungful of air she held it then glancing around and not seeing Argus frowned. She moved quickly back the way she had come down tha hall and taking the door to the right to the galley she fetched a tray for Briar and herself and then returned once more back across the hall.

Setting the trays down on the table used for surgery she watched as Briar turned down the lamps and both settled in to eat, however Treasure's thoughts were not on the food or even on the company but more of Argus and why she had not at least heard him bark.

[Pew]

Aboard the Watch Dog

The night had quietly come to a close. Across the harbor a din could still be heard aboard some late arriving vessels. John McGinty yawned and rubbed his eyes to make out what he could about the vessel. He tried as he could to use the light from the shore to silhouette the ship to make out her number of masts or how low she was riding in the water. As best he could he guessed her to be a simple two masted schooner; morning light would have to prove him wrong.

Below John in the waist, David Henry and John Clovely made their way about changing out the candle in the burnt out lanterns. A slight 'hisss' could be head across the deck and John wet his fingers and pursed out the light. David made a note to himself that several of the lanterns would need to cleaned out from the excess wax. He held the box from the chandelry on his hip as he lifted the lantern into view for John. It remained quiet on deck for sometime as the pair continued about their duty.

Jean Doublet made his round near the bow passing briefly Louis Morrell. He nodded and muttered a 'hullo' in French. Louis stopped and replied in the same tongue. Jean spoke a bit more and within moments they were fully conversing in their native language. They moved to the bow and made small talk. Louis propped his foot on the rail and offered a small pipe of lit tobacco to Jean. He kindly thanked his countryman and inhaled deeply.

Placing a shaded lantern on the deck, Edmund Wigg sat cross-legged and tried to whipp a few frays on the ends of the ratlines. He sat with a ball of hemp between his to bind the strands back together. Edmund tried to feed the end through the large needle, but proved to have much difficulty with the low level of light. He held his breath and tried for the third time. "Better luck wit' a camel passing through," he exhaled.

The calm of the early morning was suddenly broken with the sound of a pistol shot echoing across the harbor. Jean and Louis quickly extinugished their pipe and peered into the darkness. Jim Warren made his way from the quarterdeck and stood below the mainmast. "Mister McGinty, a report."

"Cannot see much sah," the young man called down, "'pears t' come from shore 'r close to it."

"Aye. Very well. Keep an' eye."

"Aye sah."

Those on duty waited at the rail for some activity. Jim joined Jean and Louis at the bow. The crew watched and listened in the darkness for another shot. It was not heard, but a loud splash was, nearer than the shore and some three points northeast off the bow. Calls between the Lucy and the Watch Dog came frequently now as each crew now kept an ear perked.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Cul de Sac Royal, 6 August, 1704

Five Bells of the Morning Watch

The breeze had shifted a short time before the greyness of dawn began to spread across the bay. Every ship on the port swung on their anchor to face the new day. Some had eased themselves with grace, while others protested heartily, as if they had been prodded by a bedmate to shift themselves. The Lucy and Watch Dog protested little as they had seperated soon after the frigate had arrived and dropped off the Lucy's captain and dropped her own hook onto the sea-bed. Their were those aboard who were so well attuned to life aboard ship that they awoke without being prodded to do so. Captain Lasseter's eyes opened as he felt the roll of the ship change. He found himself staring up at the overhead in the dim light, wondering how early, or late it was. Dorian remained as quiet as he could be, listening to the world around him. There was the sound of the ship gently rolling on the water, the breeze through the rigging, and some footfalls of men on the deck above. He also heard steady breathing from his Steward not so far away. All of a sudden he heard a small sneeze very close. Turning toward the sound he saw who had done so. It was the ships cat, the Pooka, sitting on the edge of the wardroom table looking directly at the Captain. Their eyes met and the cat slowly blinked, then yawned, raising a paw and giving it a lick before turning his gaze back on Dorian. All Dorian could do was smirk at the Pooka and shake his head as he rolled himself out of his hammock, step closer and pet the Pooka who rewarded him with a soft purr. After a moment longer the Captain stretched his shoulder and yawned as well, stretched his back some and rubbed the sleep from his eyes the best he could. The sunlight was strengthening, it was time to see what the new day would bring them.

Starboard Watch on Duty

[William Brand]

August 6, 1704 - The Cul du Sac Royal

William noted Dorian's arrival in the open air. They signaled one another from their separate places of distinction. Durand was standing with William and he too gave a nod. The Watch Dog's men were swinging out the boat to bear William to the Navarra to converse on matters of course and heading and William called to Dorian.

"I am bound for Spanish waters." William explained, gesturing to the merchantmen at anchor. "Would you accompany me there, Captain?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Aye Cap'n! Come alongside an' I'll be right there!"

Dorian nodded and headed back to the wardroom and gathered his sword, pistol and other accoutraments. Miss Ashcombe had awakened and was proper, helping Dorian gather a small ledger and writing instruments. Dorian in turn told her of what was happening and that if all goes as was planned, they would set sail in a short time. The Pooka was now sitting no the deck chair watching them both. As Captain Lasseter turned to leave, he ruffled the cats' head once and was off. He arrived in the waist just as Captain Brand's small boat bumped alongside the Lucy. He turned to the Boatswain.

"Mister Tucker, We'll return shortly... You have th' deck until Master Whittin'ferd makes an apperance."

"Aye-aye, Capn."

With the brief exchange Dorian made his way down the side of his ship and into the sternsheets of the awaiting boat.

"William... Looks ta be a fine mornin' ta finally make our way from this place..."

[William Brand]

William agreed and they discussed their own impressions regarding the order and lay of their journey. As they did so, the Navarra loomed before them and carried with her a fresh smell of paint, animals and the strangely familiar smells of Spanish cooking. Dorian and William had both known the Mediterranean well enough to find the distinct, foreign aroma that wafted out of the cook stoves comforting. They were put to further ease by the unfamiliar, but openly friendly visage of Felipe Gasset, smiling at the Larboard rail.

He welcomed them in a universal tone, but heavily laced in the trappings of Spain.

Between five and six bells of the Morning Watch

[Dorian Lasseter]

As they bumped alongside the Navarra and hooked onto her chains Dorian shifted and made room for William to take the lead, heading onboard the Spanish ship first. He followed on Captain Brands' heels and they soon stood among quite a gathering of Spanish lace bedecked men. Introductions were made all around and the whole ensemble headed to the Wardroom for refreshments and to make final preparations for the journey.

[William Brand]

August 6, 1704 - Aboard the Navarra

Like Preston's visit of the night before, there existed amongst the group a kind of pronounced silence. William took this for the inherent awkwardness of formality among foreign neighbors, neither side knowing the correct use of language, terminology or custom. But more than even this obvious explanation there was a kind of malaise which seemed born of something outside of William and Dorian's purview. Lieutenant De la Cruz did not look better for a night's sleep, Capitán Avendano was his usual distant self, and their Doctor almost aloof. The others, were too unfamiliar to judge, but for Gasset. Still, the Spanish were polite, if not engaging and they listened well to William's suggestions on the matter of order.

"The Lucy shall have the privilege of going before." William explained. "With her speed and range she shall be our eyes, half a horizon before us." There were many nods at this, with no dissent on the matter. "I recommend that the Navarra follow in her wake, with the Watch Dog in the rear guard." The Lieutenant translated all of this, and while there was some pause about the placement of the Navarra in relation to the 'Dog, it was agreed that this order would suffice, with the addendum that the Watch Dog would follow behind and at the Navarra's extreme left.

With this agreed to, Capitán Avendano pressed William with several questions and a few requests. With Le Vedette crippled, some extra men of that ship were in need of passage and he begged the boon of shipping them with the frigate and cutter. This was an odd request, as the Navarra crew was not large in relation to the space required for their comforts. William suspected this was a tactic on Avendano's part to give the man an advantage of eyes aboard the 'Dog and Lucy, but as William was confident that no friend or spy aboard his ships could do serious harm among his well tried men, he was inclined to acquiesce. Before doing so, he chanced to look at Dorian for whatever subtle confirmation he might find without asking.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Miss Ashcombe having seen the captain to the ward room door ledger in hand, felt relieved understading more fully the reason for their return to the Cul De Sac. She made no mention of her concern to Captain Lasseter as he spoke about the intent of the two ships to escort the Spanish frigate. Jenny conveyed her understanding of his explanation interjecting a question or two to better help her understand where she may fit in the days proceedings.

As relief settled in her nerves, curiosity took over and Miss Ashcombe returned to her canvas partition. Re dressed in the meager but sufficient sailor's clothing given and purchased, she fastened her hair into a tight que and donned the green hat from Miss McDonough.

As she inspected the hat before placing it, she wondered if she would see her friend again now that the Watch Dog was re joined with them.

Mr. Pew had not returned so she exited by the main door onto the Lucy's deck. Careful not to be underfoot during the many tasks of the morning, she made her way along the larboard rail towards the bow. Amidships she paused and looked across at the ships. Mr. Tucker stood nearby and she followed his gaze across. Shortly the Captains became apparent to her eye, standing on the deck of what must then be the Navarra. She took in the whole of the larger ship and the back of the Captains just as they retreated out of sight flanked by what she assumed were the Spansh captain and his entourage. MIss Ashcombe exchanged the briefest of greetings with Mr. Tucker who nodded and explained that shortly it was his hope they would be underway. She nodded slowly turning back to the red and yellow pennants of the foreign vessel. Jenny mused that she posessed no knowledge of or ability to speak any language other than English and French both of which she was fluent in. There was some smaller understanding of Dutch and Italian, but nothing uselful enough. She wondered at how these vessels crossing broad oceans must absorb languages and customs and flavors from all corners of the known world, becoming changed and infused with the spice of nations and far away places, while leaving behind traces of their own uniqueness. Jenny smiled slowly as her minds eye conjured visions of lands and peoples she had never known.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Wardroom of the Navarra

Dorian had been taking notes in the ledger as they conversed, writing all that was to be done during the passage and making sure all was agreed upon. When the question dealing wth taking on some of the Spanish escort's He stopped and exchanged a glance with William, did some mental calculations as to space aboard their ships and wondered how many men were in question. It might make things tight, but other than that, it wouldn't be a problem, so he gave William a slight shrug and continued writin in the ledger. He only voiced one thing to the gathering.

"That bein' th' case, you'll have to supply extra victuals for those men..."

He left the statement hanging and returned to making notations, yet watched the Spanish officers for any issues that might arise from it.

[William Brand]

August 6, 1704 - Aboard the Navarra

William did not smile outwardly, but was grateful for the question and held himself in check when Capitán Avendano frowned. Avendano had not considered this, and given the expenses he had already covered, he did not look happy about an additional sum paid out to another's Whole Company. Still, the question asked could not be unasked, for the cost of additional men would eat soundly into the Watch Dog and Lucy's profits and stores if they meant to be fair with fare over the duration of the trip.

After numerous calculations an additional sum was agreed upon, and with this business done and the business of procuring additional goods now added to their agenda, they signed those papers of agreement necessary to round out the bargain. The quill was passed several times, with sailors called from the small boat of the English and marines of the Spanish to give witness. A drink sealed the matter absolutely, and Dorian and William made their way to the waiting boat.

The farewell was formal and austere, but for Gasset, and with promises to set sail by the change of the watch they were sent back to their homes of English oak.

. . .

The Lucy and Watch Dog

As these various events unfolded aboard the Navarra, another interaction of foreign parties played out aboard the Lucy and Watch Dog. Miss Ashcombe, less aware of herself than usual, had spent enough time on deck to catch the single, distant and curious eye of Donatien Durand as he sat on the ledge formed between the quarter and the poop deck. He watched her for almost a quarter of an hour, even as ink was still drying on the Navarra ledgers.

Now with the return of the small boat bearing back to the Lucy, she turned to watch its progress, only to glance by chance in the direction of L'Ours on the 'Dog. The smile that split his face at the genuine start in her countenance was wide and full of teeth. It was the same scoundrel grin she had witnessed in a second floor hall from a much drunker Durand.