The Watch Dog

[Black Syren]

Placing her hands to her lower back she arched backwards and rubbed at the ache found there and then raising one arm used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe at her sweat dampened face. With the onset of evening it had cooled somewhat in the galley but not enough, she could feel the rivulets of sweat racing down her skin and when breezes made their way like a ribbon that teasingly curled about her chilling said flesh. She was about to continue with her chores when Mr. Gage seemed to become excited and tilting her head she turned and noticed a leg vanishing from the doorway and wondered what she had missed.

Indeed she was about to find out for Mr. Gage told her to fetch the serving trays and when she looked lost he pointed to a corner and shooed her that way. Quickly making her way to the shadowy corner she unpinned the simple lock on the cabinet and began pulling serving trays and rather fancy china and silver and setting them beside her. Looking up as Mr. Gage halted beside her she watched as he knelt and began counting out trays, silverware kept to a high polish and other assorted things for a fancy dinner. He motioned her to rise and gather half the trays and other assortments while he took the other half.

Rising carefully she quickly trailed in his wake and seeing him setting the assortment out on the trays in quick order upon the galley table she too began laying hers out in the same manner. Startled as he took her shoulder she jumped and looked up at him and as he rapidly gave orders that she was to set the Captain’s table she felt her jaw drop. “Does not Miss Smith do that?”

Mr. Gage smiled kindly and said that Miss Smith was dressing for the dinner and that meant that she would have to set the table. Unaware that in the short time they had talked he had walked her to the companionway and pushed her towards the Captain’s quarters.

She froze as she stared at the closed door, it had been long since she had set a table..what if she did it wrong? Nervously she dragged her lower lip between her teeth and worried it as she slowly inched towards the door, her hand reaching for the knob.

Releasing her lower lip she blew a breath and felt confident she could do such a simple thing. She gave another start as Mr. Gage appeared behind her with fresh linens and as he reached about her to open the door pushing her inside he handed her the linens and took his leave. Shaking her head she faced the table where the leaves had already lengthened the table and singing softly beneath her breath began to prepare the table as her mother had taught her, all the while in the back of her head she could hear her mother’s calm voice guiding her. Stepping back she studied the table and found it needed something more. If they were ashore fresh cut flowers would have been nice, but onboard…With a quick grin she scampered from the cabin and made her way to her hammock and the small locked sea chest containing her things. Fetching a small bag she pulled free an embroidered silk of azure blue with small flowers daintily stitched. It had been a gift from one of her mother's lover's and something she had taken great joy in receiving upon the death of her mother. Perhaps those small blooms of color would cheer her Captain in some small way.

[Guest]

When the Captain's intentions to host the officers were made known to Tudor, made haste to finish her daily round of chores. Once all her duties were seen to, she made her way below to dress. Again, she found herself hurrying, for while she had been invited to sit with the officers, it by no measure meant that the table would see to itself. The green wool mantua that she had worn to her meal with the Spaniard lay closest to the top of her chest, and being torn between not wanting to waste time and not wanting to wear slops to dinner, she quickly changed into the garment and attempted to tie her hair back with a ribbon, leaving as quickly as she came.

She went by way of the galley to collect what items the table would need only to have Mr. Gage smile and inform her that all was seen to and that the table should be finished by now. She thanked him but didn't pause to ask him whom he had wrangled into performing the chore. She instead hurried towards the Ward Room, convinced she would have to correct all the settings. She had never let the Captain eat at a mis-set table, and she was not going to begin now.

What she saw when she entered astounded her. The table was perfect, elegantly placed, all items in correct and exacting position. The candlesticks, as common as they seemed in the tedium of everyday now looked sophisticated, being displayed on a fine bolt of embroidered silk, twined artfully between them.

Taking a moment to take her gaze from the centerpiece of the room, she finally took notice of it's creator. Treasure was putting the final touches on her work, inching a goblet this way, shifting a plate that, too intent on her work to note Tudor's pleased stare. "Miss Tribbiani, if I had known t'was you who was going to see to the table in my stead, I might have spent more time dressing, for I would have known that capable hands were doing my work for me." She paused and smiles. "It looks lovely! Better then I could have done myself, I fear."

Edited June 17, 2009 by MercenaryWench

[Black Syren]

Blue green eyes swept up catching sight of Miss Smith and ran a critical but appraising gaze over the other woman. “You still have time to change if it is your wish, though you look lovely as you are.” She smiled but it was elusive at best for having not much interaction with Miss Smith she felt at a disadvantage. Nervously her fingers toyed with her slops and she offered “And please call me Treasure, Miss Tribbiani is really to long to say at times and we are shipmates and should be on more intimate terms.” She gestured at the table a flush of joy coloring her cheeks..”So much has been distressing of late I thought something cheerful would bolster spirits so I am glad it meets with your approval. Coming from you it means much since this is normally your duty.”

She stepped back from the table and as she was passing Miss Smith she paused and offered “I could quickly re-fashion your hair if you would like, it would be something simple yet elegant to go with your gown.”

Miss Smith eyed her boldy and there was a full minute of silence before Tudor agreed to which Treasure exhaled softly and bade Tudor to sit. As she sat nd adjusted her skirts Treasure unfastened the ribbon spilling the long locks and sorting through them. A simple braid about the crown leaving the rest to fall in long curls about Tudor’s shoulders. “There.” She said stepping back suddenly grateful of what her mother had taught her.

[Guest]

Once Treasure had declared herself finished, Tudor's hands flew up to her head and gingerly felt around the competed work. "You are a miracle worker. The last soul that tried to braid my hair, declared it impossible. Said that t'was like trying to tie three weasels in a knot." She paused for a moment, truly enjoying how her hair felt below her fingers. "Hmm . . .I hadn't noticed that my hair had grown to this length again." She mused to herself. "Thank you Treasure. I think I can safely say that I now look presentable." She stood, still yet to stop patting her hair in amazement.

[Black Syren]

A husky and very pleased laugh presented itself to the room at large. Treasure faced Tudor her eyes gleaming with mischief..”Truly lovely, a pixie or some woodland sprite! And tis easy if you but have the knowledge. My mother was well versed in such things and I learned from her and I am pleased to be able to assist you. With so many men and dressing like one it is nice to be able to show them we are still women.”

“Besides the gentleman will be all agog and will find themselves tongue tied and I shall be wearing this silly smile just thinking of it.” She grinned then laughs softly causing Tudor to giggle as well. “Now a pinch of your cheeks and add that to the glow already about you and your are pure enchantment. Have fun this evening mi amica and know that you deserve it too.” With a wink and a quick near kiss against each of Tudor’s cheeks she quickly fled hearing approaching footsteps.

[Pew]

The powder monkeys had begun to scurry about fetching lanterns for the impending night. Preston had felt a presence at his side and caught Bill Flint nearly in step with him. Suddenly he stopped amidship.

"Bill, wot 's th' name of those lads that came aboard with Hudless? From the Caleb Hudson?" Preston asked quizically.

The tall Marine rested his hands on his pistols and squinted. "Reeves, sah. I believe Milling 's well. Perhaps Roundtree and his brother Sandefur." Mister Flint was not sure of the last two as was told through his voice.

"Let us see," Preston smiled.

With the Larboard watch on duty, Francis Roundtree and James Sandefur were found just to larboard whip-stitching a ratline that had frayed. A short discussion among the four men brought to light that they in fact had not previously served aboard Hudless' ship, but were aboard the Providence Prize. Bill nodded as if to correct himself. The ship's officers thanked the men, but were suddenly caught off guard. "Beggin' yer pardon, he's a bit o' a . . . pansy, sah," quipped James. Francis smirked, "a right jackel-tart."

"Eh?" questioned Bill Flint. Preston creased his brow.

The half-brothers spoke in turn telling of their 'encounter' with Stephen Hudless. Francis and James shared a cell within the bowels of Martinique's gaol. Across from them and to starboard, Stephen Hudless was also confined within. They were unaware of who he was at that time, but remembered the crying and pleading with the guards. They told of how he often begged to make deals with the guards as his parents would pay passage for him to leave the island and return to France. "He cried o' how riches an' wealth 'ould come to those who would help 'im escape," continued Francis.

Bill glanced to Preston who now crossed his arms, leaned against the rail and kept his eye on Hudless, still at the bow. Hudless was arguing with another man at the bow, but the ship's master could not make out who it was.

"Thank you," was all that Preston uttered. Hudless beat one of his crew, yet cried like a babe when confined. "Find Milling and Reeves," Preston stated bluntly, "less we get t' th' bottom o' this."

[Red Cat Jenny]

Ward Room of The Lucy

"Do some good deeds so that the devil, who is our enemy, will not find you unoccupied. For the devil does not take easily into his work those whom he finds occupied in good.. Take that as you will"

Miss Ashcombe regarded her employer. He spoke the words with not so much drama, but with the simple conviction of one who believes firmly in what he has said and imparts this thought as knowledge to be passed along.

She found it most curious to hear Captain Lasseter and Mister Pew speaking prose which stood out in contrast to their current purpose and surroundings. Delighting in this curiosity, a smile tugged at her and she spoke of her past. Hoping to prompt more.

"..I have heard words similar when I lived as a girl in the Colonies. A man came from Boston and read many things in the village hall once. Wise words sir if I may" Some had seemed nonsense to her and some like a sermon. It was a beautiful Summer night in New England and her attention had drifted steadily to things other than the hard pews and musty room where the man droned on in what seemed an endless torture to a young child. Later she would find new and different meaning reading Shakespeare translated into French during her tutoring in Martinique.

She waited for his reply

[Dorian Lasseter]

Captain Lasseter smiled and looked to his Steward.

“You read well?”

She smiled and nodded at his question and his smile grew some as he took a couple steps to his sea chest, opened it and removed three smallish tomes. He looked at their spines and selected one, putting the others back. He shut his chest and turned to her, offering the book.

“Chaucer… His tales of Canterbury… Yours to read in idle times if you wish, but I warn you… he can be quite… bawdy on occasion… “

As she contemplated what he said, the ship’s bell rung out, noting the end of the first and beginning of the second dog watch. Officers called out orders and men traded idleness for duties, and others the opposite.

Second Dogwatch begins

Starboard Watches now on duty

[Red Cat Jenny]

Jenny accepted the loaned item with a grateful curtsy.

A book.. a welcome thing which would while away time filled with worrying when one was idle.

Jenny read as often as time had allowed between her duties and schooling and always in the morning and evenings to her Uncle's children. The latter memory tugged at her emotions as holding the tome in her hands brough the familiar to light. However, she smiled warmly and thanked him. At the sounds of the change of watch, Jenny was also reminded the Captain had not taken his evening meal. "Will Mr. Whittinford be joining you for supper?" He answered that the Ships Master would be tending to his duties and a light fare would do for himself. "Very well then I shall return shortly.. and I shouldn't worry about the stories sir, I thank you kindly for the company the book will provide " She was going to add that that which the English, Spanish and Irish like himself found bawdy were simply a necessary part of life for the French, but it would have been improper to do so. She put away the book with her things stored upon the small chair in her space and exited towards the galley to bring supper.

[William Brand]

The Second Dog Watch had already begun, but William lingered in the powder stores with Mister Youngblood. William had not checked the condition of the powder himself for some time, content to leave the duty to officers over that charge, but with the mystery of recent reports and the unknown before them it seemed like the best time to take an interest in such things again. Petee was glad to show the well sifted powder, for he and Eric Franklin took great pride in the condition of arms an ammunition aboard the frigate. Eric, who was not on duty at present, stood at the doorway watching as William nodded appreciatively.

"The condition of the powder is excellent, Gentlemen. My compliments."

Outside the stores and forward, the voice of Robert Hollis came carrying. Hollis was at another of his many stories, and it came as no surprise to Captain Brand to hear himself spoken of again. Hollis was ever demonstrating his vast understanding of all things 'Red Wake' and William shook his head with a tired, bemused resolve.

"That man seems t' know you well, Cap'n." Eric observed, looking out into the passageway.

"He seems to think he seems to know me well." William corrected, though he listened closely to see what inaccuracies and exaggerations Hollis would add to this retelling.

Hollis was regaling his fellows with the story of William Brand's destruction of a Portuguese merchantman. Hollis was quick to point out, and not for the first time, William's hatred of the Portuguese; as if William hated the entire people, men, women and children together. He counterpointed this by specifically mentioning and also exaggerating the number of women and children aboard the merchantman when it fell under the shadow of William's moon and stars.

"Moon and stars..." Eric asked aloud, looking at William. "Sah?"

"A borrowed standard of my benefactor." William said, almost absently as he strained to hear Hollis' voice dropped low. The man was a good story teller, and even William who had lived these stories with less drama, found that he liked to hear them told. Hollis continued, explaining how with cold and cruel disregard for gender or age, William had put the crew of the ship to slaughter.

"I's no' possible." Blaise Wallace disagreed. "Th' man's as fair a bloke as one could hope t' serve unde'."

There were several pronounced agreements to this retort, but Hollis was undaunted. "He slaughtered 'em all, and within earshot of those who pressed upon his heels, I tell you. I have this from one who fought 'im off Porto Judeu..."

William raised an eyebrow at this and smiled at some secret something. He walked from the room then, and made no effort to hide his progress forward. Petee and Eric joined him, as they were invited to sup with him that very hour, but William went beyond the stair into the berth. Here, Hollis was still describing in great detail how Brand himself had taken up a knife for the sacrifice of so many innocents.

"He plunged the knife himself, he did, an' when his shirtsleeves were baptized in blood...then an' only then did he gain the quarterdeck to..." Hollis was turning with a raised arm in mock dramatics when he sighted William standing with the two officers of the 'Dog. His story faltered utterly, and he turned about at attention, as did any of his audience who now took note of Captain Brand.

"Go on, sah." William said simply, and he bore the practiced smile of his office from now and years before. "One does not end a tale in the middle."

Hollis was embarrassed to be sure, but also flattered to have the Captain himself as audience to his tale. "Perhaps the Captain himself will finish the telling...?" Hollis dared, grinning.

William said nothing for a moment, then nodded. "Only the Captain of this particular story can end it, and no other." William said simply, then added. "But I'll add some thirty years to it yet before I do." He smiled a little then and turned to leave, but Hollis called him back with a question.

"Would you...amend it, sah?"

William turned a little on his heel and studied the faces of the crew. William couldn't remember the berth ever being quieter than now, even in sleep. He smiled a little again and it was born of good humor and ill. "I would amend much and nothing. A man makes his course but once." Then he went up to the weatherdecks, leaving the men to wonder that Brand had neither denied nor confirmed his part in the destruction of the Jean Baptiste.

[Black Syren]

Smiling happily and glad she had made another smile she made her way to the galley where Mr. Gage all but ushered her towards the weather decks telling her it was time for her break. Protesting she shook her head claiming he needed her assistance. “Miss Tribbiani as much as I may need assistance tis hot down here and ye need yer break. Twill do neither of us any good if ye fall over in dis heat.” Unable to reason with this bit of wisdom she nodded and moved towards the door and the weatherdecks. Humming beneath her breath she quickened her strides eager to feel the wind upon her face and as she stepped out of the hallway onto the deck she collided with another and nearly fell backwards. Quicker hands grabbed at her arms and as she gained her balance felt her face flush with hot color “Careful Miss Tribbiani, we are not under attack.”

Of all the luck…”Thank you Captain, I should indeed have been paying attention it was just……well you see…..I…..Thank you sir.” She went to curtsy forgetting the lack of skirts then feeling awkward and well aware of the commotion and eyes upon them she tugged her forelock "Humble aplogies Sir and Thank you.....for catching me."

[William Brand]

"This same time tomorrow...?" William returned, and smiled so slowly and deliberately as to refresh her embarrassment. He seldom allowed himself any flirtation with the women of the crew, but Hollis had awakened thoughts of his past and he couldn't help himself in the moment. Still, before she could answer him, he was entering the passageway aft where he could hear the sounds of those officers already gathered to supper.

[Black Syren]

As her Captain spoke she felt her eyes widen and her lips parted in mute shock, before she could blink he was already vanishing into the shadows of the corridor and she slowly shook her head but felt her lips quirk for surely he was jesting. In all the time she had been with him had he done such, Nay, and he knew of her past. Nay twas more than likely a jest on his part though handsome she would never do anything that would ruin their working relationship. Besides that she had a feeling he had an intrest in a rather spirited surgeon. Tilting her head back her laughter rang out full of joy and mischief and she teasingly called out "Most assuredly Captain!" She continued to shake her head as she made her way over to Ciaran at the rail and asked for the current news. Soon both their heads were bent together as he relayed the day's happenings to her. Still she could feel her face heat with renewed embarrasment over the near accident and Captain Brand's words. Ciaran snapped his fingers before her face causing her to jump and he merely grinned before raising a finger to touch her hot cheek. "Such a blush lass looks like yer all sunburned, care to share yer thoughts?" he asked wickedly flashing her a wink. With a saucy toss of her head she stuck her tongue out at him and made a rude gesture before sashaying past him. He trailed after her towards where Argus lay laughing at her high spirited antics and grateful to see the sparkle in her eyes. It seemed she was slowly breaking free from her cocoon and he for one was enjoying the show. As they passed Alan he joined their group and between the three of them their was much jesting and laughing even as she sat pulling the over large pup's head into her lap. The three of them were inseperable and it was clear that the bond of friendship and trust they held for each other was strong, it was also clear Treasure felt safe with them allowing her wild spirit to run rampant when with them.

Antonio watched from his position near the rail until the trio was gone from view, they had all slipped beneath some bit of canvas on deck and he wondered just what type of ship this Captain ran to allow such antics on deck for surely there had only been one reason that she had slipped beneath that tarp. Tearing his gaze away he looked over his men counting their number and satisfied that all were there went back to imaginging the court being held beneath that tarp.

[Pew]

the galley, below deck, aboard the Lucy

As the watches changed, the line forming outside the galley exponentially increased. Hopes of a hot sup and a evening ration kept the crew in high spirits. . .save for one. Stephen Hudless jostled his way below to reach the front of the line before any of his mates might. Several scowls lined the way, "And wot of it?!" called Hudless back.

Samuel Milling stood just aft the galley, more interested in cleaning off paint on his hands from touching up the larboard rail. He knew his meal would be there in due time. He was more engaged in receiving his tot than a plate of stew and some bread to follow. Samuel looked down the line. His large frame towered over many of the 'common' sized men. Samuel was a near head taller than most of the crew on board; made him easier to find among others. Something he often felt as both a blessing and a curse. He smiled.

Word was passed through the line that the ship's master wanted a word with him topside. Samuel promptly threw down the rag and scrambled up the steps.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Navigation Log of the Lucy:

Direction: SW, sailing large, with a quartering wind

Speed: 9 knots, large wavelets, crests breaking

Wind: Gentle breeze increasing, from the NE

[Red Cat Jenny]

Being later to bring the Captain's fare, Jenny stepped below and was met with a sea of faces. It seemed the whole of the ship was below crowding about the already cramped and heated galley. Her eyes widenened as the small space made the mob of hungry crewmen seem larger and twice in numbers than they did on deck in the open air. She froze momentarily until Tjaak mid grin at some joke or comment no doubt, met her eye and waved her forward with a large wooden spoon. Wielding the same spoon with mock authority and no small amount of humor, he shooed out the latest of his patrons making room for her to gather the tray and dishes necessary. His face was ruddy from the heat and beaded with sweat as he fought the hearth and the advancing tide of hungry men, but his mood was light and he spoke in a friendly manner to her all the while working around her clumsy efforts in order to keep the bread line moving. Jenny tried to work swiflty assembling the Captains meal. But the heat and the closeness of so many along with the jostling of Tjaak and the clang of the ladle every time it struck the edge of the iron kettle, caused her to feel like she was caught up in a storm. Taking pity on her Tjaak paused in his boisterous feeding of the men and steadied her dishes placing a fresh hunk of bread aside the meal. With a wink, he balanced one more wooden bowl upon the already weighed down tray "Now ye make sure to eat as well young miss..there'll be no more fire 'till breakfast" he paused looking skyward "God willin"

With a laugh and a few shouts of "Make way, make way for the Cap'ns steward you lot!" he ushered her past the shoulders which seemed to close in behind her as the sea of men reclaimed the space hoping for a ration to go with their stew.

Eager to escape the chaos, Jenny hurried as much as was possible laden with the steaming fare. She had kept her eyes to her work and her head down, too self conscious and a little fearful to meet the eyes which surely must have been upon her. Some comments were heard but only few and she tried not to let them penetrate her thoughts as she paused outside the ward room. Jenny set the tray down on the stair and shook out her skirts. She brought a small piece of linen from the waist of her garment where it had been tucked and wiped her face. The galley had been sweltering. She wiped her hands as well resecuring the cloth and smothed her hair before stooping to retireve the heavy tray just as Captain Lasseter answered her knocking. "Forgive me for kncoking sir, but the tray is quite heavy" before she could step inside he had borne it to the table and returned to replacing a ledger he had laid out there. "Thank you sir" Relieved that she had not to teeter on the stair and risk toppling all, she set out the meal waiting for him finish his task and sit. Once he was served, she would wait until he had eaten and take her meal to the stern bench. Hopefully there would be some small and merciful breeze to remove the heat of the galley which seemed to have followed her and cool the flush from her cheeks.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian had watched his Steward set out the evening fare for him and noted her flushed skin and slightly damp hair. The weather was fair and the wind fine, so he stepped over to the table and reached above, unsecuring the skylight and propping it up some three inches. Turning from the table and to the sternlights, he propped the cornermost ones open several inches as well, allowing a gentle breeze. The meal smelled hearty and his stomach rumbled in anticipation of being filled. He was about to sit, but noticed Jenny stood as a servant waiting for their master to dismiss them. This would not due.

“Miss Ashcombe… I do my best to run a tight ship, to a point… Please sit…”

She hesitated, and Dorian held out a hand indicating a chair at the table. Jenny sat demurely with her hands in her lap, not knowing what it was he wanted of her. Her eyes widened when he sat in his chair and poured a glass of wine, setting it in front of her.

“A tight ship, but not a slave ship… You’ve not told me much of yer past, but I feel you were much a servant to a not so kind master? I’ll not have that… Aye, you are positioned as my Steward, which could be seen as a servant… I will give you orders and expect you to do certain duties, but not ta be one who hovers in th’ background, cleaning up in my wake.

If you so wish I would be pleased if you would share the meal at my table…”

Dorian poured himself a glass and held it in such a way as to prompt her to take up her own, to which he gentle touched his to hers and nodded but once before sampling the French vintage.

“Hmm…. 1694 was a good year…”

Edited June 23, 2009 by Dorian Lasseter

[William Brand]

The officers of the 'Dog were gathered about the table and the room with no outward signs of formality. William would have none, so they sat or stood as they might and as many as three different conversation were going on at once. William was a part of none of them, but as a listener. He noted that Eric looked his normal self, but Mister Roberts sat gingerly, owing to his rough ride the day before. Petee stood swaying with the frigate, much more willowy than Mister Badger near him. Badger looked as fixed to the deck as the Ward Room Table; a structure more than a man. Jim was seated facing aft and in a pronounced discussion with Mathew Campion about the obsession of fashions among the wealthy and economics in general. Simon Dunwalt and Luc were swapping humorous anecdotes. Everyone else seemed content to listen to one or more of the conversations already in play.

Tudor opened the last of the windows, for the Ward Room had never born all the officers at once. It made the room seem small, even close. It had never been large room, but William had never used the word crowded before now.

"Shall I fetch you a chair, sah?" Tudor asked, trying not to bump Claude Marchande as the Watch Dog leaned over to Starboard.

William shook his head and waved off offered wine, passing it to another. He observed that Jonah Greene and Teeke Ranst were discussing the recent repairs to the Ward Room's Starboard wall. They did this with very few words, falling back on the common language of carpentry.

"Send word for our new Doctor, Miss Smith. And Miss Kildare as well."

[Black Syren]

As Alan and Ciaran sat nearby speaking low so their voices would not disturb others she too kept her voice low as she comforted the pup whose head lay in her lap. His tail wagged with more enthusiasm than earlier and his eyes seemed brighter yet he refused to move around much at all. She leaned her back against a pile of rope and ran her fingers across his furred sides and speaking softly watched his ears move to catch her voice.

"I am thinking that you are pulling the wool over my eyes. That is what I think." she confided watching his ears yet again. "But it is of no matter for you are well tended and quiet here."

Both men watched her with the pup and Alan suddenly grinned "You and your animals!"

Glancing up she nodded "Aye, they are honest and he saved my life. Think I would do less for him?"

"And the kitten?" he asked her.

Affronted she glared at him watching his eyebrows raise "Think you I would have left him to the mercy of that snake?!?" When Ciaran laughed and began ribbing them both their conversation turned more boisterous until even Hollis and Owen had joined their small group. Soon the conversation turned to the spanish and Owen having merely been listening up to that point finally asked "And what do they say?" At once several pairs of eyes landed upon her and she shrugged "Nothing much, they stay to themselves." That being said she went back to stroking Argus and let the men talk while she merely listened, Owen not satisfied with her answer continued to study her wanting to know all that she did not say.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Jenny smiled almost laughing in relief and met his toast with a brief raising of her glass, still waiting for her superior to drink before she did. She had worried momentarily that his invitation might have been to sit, but for a lecture about where she may have fallen short or failed somehow.

She sat gingerly on the edge of the chair with no ready excuse for whatever knowldge or skills she lacked. There was no defiance in her for this, as he was not or at least had not yet scorned her or looked at her as so much chattle to be dealt with personally only out of necessity. In addition she had no defence, no training, no experience in serving on the crew of a cutter. She did posess enough skills and confidence to know she might live up to the task as learned. But surely things were different in this setting than on a large plantation where money and politics were the necessity of survival. Here she had supposed over her short time aboard, survival meant those things but also many others which would be more important. A company of people at sea would certinly face illness, enemy and the very ocean they sailed upon.

She settled more comfortably grateful for the breeze which now brought certain relief and thanked the Captain for his generosity, reaching for utensil and the extra bowl Tjaak had supplied. As she dished a small portion of stew, cheese and fruit, she also thanked fate for his comment which gave them a topic for conversation.

Captain Lasseter seemed a kind and fair man thus far, however, she knew little of her employer and benefactor. Murin McDunnough had told her some things about Captain Brand during their time on Martinique and though he seemed also posessed of an even hand, there had been something about him which unnerved her. Being a quick study of people Jenny felt that Captain Lasseter was likely genuine in his comportment but also knew that he WAS the Captain.. and though they were strangers to each other, it was she who was the stranger among them. Should he ask questions in innocuous conversation, she should still answer with caution. Assuredly he would listen carefully to all that was said. What was safe and what was not was unclear at this moment despite the feeling of security in such a small environment. Jenny surmised things could change very quickly if one were to fall under suspicion. Even if that suspicion was not made obvious.

"1694..?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

“Aye… the wine… bottled in 1694 in Medoc, I believe that’s what th’ chandler said from whence I bought it…”

Dorian took another taste and savoured the flavour, then gave a short laugh.

“I sound like some highbourne git, as if I know so much about such things… Am I correct to remember that you lived on one of th’ plantations on Martinique? How was the wine cellar of your… Uncle?”

He returned to his meal and let the question hang in the air for Miss Ashcombe to answer.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Miss Ashcombe smiled slowly, her attention on the ruby liquid in her own glass. While she would enjoy the casual parlay, a slight hair tingled at the back of her neck with the conversation turned back so close to her own affairs. She had hoped to draw him into some story of his whereabouts at the time of the vintages bottling. Perhaps talk of journeys far away and unimportant to the present.. She swirled the wine watching the rivulets cascade back into the pool of the glass and answered without raising her eyes.

"One does not need to be of high station to have a natural.. appreciation of good things sir.."

This was a statement she'd heard eavesdropping on a nearby conversation at one of her Uncles grand dinners. There were always those willing to make a game of judging and speculating on the motives and supposed secret lives of others just out of earshot. It was usually more amusing than the empty niceties traded in the name of propriety. Rather like finding an interesting book on a drab, rainy day.

A question came to her then and she quickly answered the latter of his, interrupting the subject with her own query. "My Uncles plantation had a proper cellar stocked with the finest vintages of France, Argentina and Spain."She feigned pause breathing in.. " You speak of wine, of Shakespeare and Chaucer Captain Lasseter. Your accent betrays your country, but your position does necessarily not betray your finer education..were you schooled in France or England?"

[Pew]

Samuel was at the top of the steps just as Preston finished a nip at his flask. Bill Flint, stalwart as ever, completed Preston's shadow in the waning light.

"Sah," announced the able seaman.

Preston reached out and grabbed the youth by the back of his neck and pulled him near. Samuel was caught quite off-guard as he was led to the bow by the ship's master.

"Stephen Hudless. Wot y' know o' him?" whispered Preston. The wide-eyed boy was taken aback at this direct questioning. He had made it a habit not to intrude in the business of others, but now was drawn into the other's business.

"Sah?" replied Samuel.

Preston had relinquished ahold of the boy. He stared into Mister Milling's eyes. "You served aboard the Caleb Hudson wit' Hudless. Wot y' know of 'im?" darted the Master.

Samuel Milling was caught quite off guard. He wiped his palm over his face and collected himself for a moment. Samuel told that he had heard stories of Stephen's antics among the previous trips upon a blackbirder, all to include beatings, whippings, and hangings. One story went even so far as he father'd a mulatto below decks. The only stories he had been witness to were the fights onboard the Caleb Hudson. It was reported that Mister Hudless has spent the better part of a fortnight locked within a cable tier. The anger began to rise in Preston. Stories they were, but must have some root, somewhere. The ship's master gnawed on his own lip.

'Roger Reeves may thence just be sending judgement 'pon Stephen Hudless', thought Preston to himself. "Thank you son," stated the ship's master without emotion, "Carry on."

Samuel nodded and made his way below.

"Word was sent for Mister Reeves, Master Whitingford," said Bill. "Shall we engage the Cap'n sah?"

"No," merely replied Preston.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Wardroom of the Lucy

The Captain was slightly taken aback by her question. He pursed his lips and tried to hold back a grin but failed and laughed aloud.

“Pardon my outburst… I… Oh my… I was not schooled formally as one might think… Oh, where to start…

Most of my learning has been aboard ships…. Many on long journeys with time to waste between work, if you can believe that… And I was lucky enough ta have those whom I would call scholars in my midst. I learned much from those around me…”

He stopped to refill their glasses before continuing.

“I was drawn into the English sea forces and at one point was under a king of men disguised as a captain… He valued me for my skills and even added to my ‘schooling’. I’ve learned quite a lot on my own time. So, my formal schooling was in shipyards as a lad, and on shipboard as a young man… So… my schooling was neither in England nor France… but close by in the waters that surround…”

Dorian took another drink of the wine appreciatively and smiled a crooked smile at his Steward, wondering what she now thought of her Captain.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Miss Ashcombe tapped a finger on her glass thoughtfully as she took in all that he said. His laughter indicated she hadn't insulted him. She hadn't intended to insult. It did not surprise her to find he had learned much in his years abroad, however his tale seemed most fortunate. She surmised he must be the son of a merchant Captain or some other businessman to have learned to read. Most likely before he set out.

She smiled after too long a silence had passed between them and offered up the newly filled vessel in a small salute "Well Captain Lasseter, it seems then, that a life at sea has been most fortunate for you. Perhaps I shall learn more than musket fire while we are under way."

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Bill scratched his chin in thought for a moment. "We could just throw the bastard over the side, make it look like an accident." He smiled, only half joking.