The Watch Dog

[Red Cat Jenny]

Ward Room of The Lucy

As the Captain left to a call of Sail ho! Jenny lowered the lamp in the ward room to better view the water and ships in tow. She remained quiet, settling on the edge of the stern bench. When the Watch Dog faded from sight she assumed they must have gone ahead to scout, but the Navarra remained in view. She hugged herself and listened trying to garner anything from above and outside. There were heavy unfamiliar sounds and brief swells of activity followed by quiet. When she could wait no longer, she crossed to the door and placing both palms flatly upon it, first pressed an ear to the wood and then opened it barely enough to see past its edge. There were men crouched low, some huddled in twos. The ships cannons were moved from their storage. Jenny looked for those she knew, fearful of what had suddenly befallen them. Seeing no familiar face she dared the door open wider and set one foot to step clear of it. Her shoe crunched on something and she looked down to see sand spread about the deck. Jenny wondered at where it had come from unaware of it's purpose. As she again looked for the Captain or Ships Master, a man turned from his place at the rail looking to the deck above the ward room. She quickly shut the door, crossed quietly to her cot and stood wondering whether she should gather the courage to join the others. Was she expected to? She reviewed what Captain Lasseter had said about the Marines. Were they the men now crouched at the rail? Feeling fear rise, she settled in the chair and willed herself away from panic. She would need to think clearly. Jenny felt beneath the straw mattress of the cot locating the dagger secreted there and settled back against the chair listening intently. A small prayer came to her lips.

[William Brand]

"Just as I imagined you would..." William said of Avendano as he took in the full display of Spanish colors. He shook his head, as did Jim.

"He's the whole of Spain alone, that one is." Jim sighed, smiling despite the brazen display. There could be no doubting that Capitán Eustaquio Alano Avendano had considered the display a matter of course, being so faithful a servant of His Most Catholic Majesty of Spain. Decorum before experience.

William's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the whole of the open sea before him. "I should like to see the whole of the matter, Mister Warren. You have the deck." William made his way forward with the intention of going aloft himself. As he went he tried to remember the last time he had climbed the rigging of any ship in near total darkness. It quickened his nerves a little for it was an act of diminished senses, 'And perhaps an act of diminished senses', he thought, smiling. There was a voice at his elbow before he even gained the height of the rail.

"Capitán."

"Aye. Who's that there?"

"Antonio." Came the replay, and this was followed quickly with a question. "¿Cuál está inoportunamente?"

William looked down into the face of the man, but being possessed of so little Spanish himself, he was obliged to call for Ulrich fon Sandt-Thorvald. The German was there at once and happy to oblige, though even his Spanish was passing poor. Still it proved enough for Antonio to express his concerns and ask after the matter. William sent the Spaniard away again with the very honest assurance that all things were in hand, for with the question of the distant ship unanswered the night was no different than it had been before. When the man was sent away, William leaned down from the rail and in a volume meant only to reach Ulrich he said, "Send word to Mister Warren. I should prefer our guests divided into thirds at the galley aft, the Mainmast forward and under the Fo'c'sle Deck. No arms for them, but let them go...quietly." This last word came out in a long slow whisper.

"Aye, sah."

[Pew]

Dorian and Preston stood at the taffrail as Nigel raised the French ensign. The snow had yet to raise her colours, seeming purposely so. Dorian raised the glass to his eye and could men scattering about on the deck.

"She 's preparin' fer somethin' aye," said Dorian. He handed the glass to the ship's master. Preston studied the goings on aboard the unknown vessel. He pulled the glass from his eye and looked quickly aft to the Navarra. The Navarra had seen the Lucy remove a bit of sail, yet turn nearly into the wind. She was still nearly two cable lengths behind the Lucy.

"The Navarra 's slowin' sah. Jus' fine on the quarter," replied Preston. The winds had shifted; they were now on the bow and as best as Preston could tell coming east-south-east. With that change, the Navarra was now to the lee side of the Lucy. The helmsman aboard her had taken her into the lull just abaft the Lucy. She was truly slowing now. Dorian looked astern, frowning. "Wot 'n th' hell she doing?"

Nigel pushed the tiller off just a bit. The Lucy was still closehauled but now heading nearer east.

The snow was now to windward. She had regained the wind.

Dorian crossed his arms and tapped his forefinger to his lips. He narrowed his gaze. "Nigel, prepare to come about."

"Sah?" questioned Nigel.

Preston looked to the Captain.

"Aye, take a headin' sou-sou-west," Dorian said calmly. He nodded towards the snow, "she'll et 's know her intentions soon enough."

Nigel called ahead to trim the sails and prepare to change course. Logan Christie stood in the waist and repeated the orders. The Captain and ship's master stood at the larboard rail, watching and waiting.

The ship's master leaned into the Captain and smiled, "think she'll take th' bait?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

The question asked by Preston made Dorian give a short chuckle as a response. He stood at the rail and did calculations in his head as to what the next move might be. It was a chess match to be played out in the dark waves and troughs of the sea.

“Since our employer has negated our rouse to a point, let us have all hands on deck, at th’ ready… we’ll hold off on openin’ th’ gunports, but all else at th’ ready if you please…”

Forelocks were knuckled and orders given. Soon the Lucy’s deck was indeed ready for what might come. The game was on, let the best man, or dog, win…

[Red Cat Jenny]

Miss Ashcombe having nearly come to a decision was pressed firmly into her resolve as hurried footsteps and hushed orders sounded outside the ward room. Already crossing to the door and having quickly dressed in the sailor's slops the rest of the crew wore, she donned Silkie's green hat over a tight que and paused before the latch. Had they fogotten her? Or was it assumed she would stay below decks stowed safely away as possible from whatever the Lucy held her breath for. Not knowing was unbearable. Jenny was one of them now and the only safety she knew was in the hands of the crew and Captain. She would be one of those hands as and where needed. Pressing back the urge to douse the lamp and hide on her knees next to the sternbench, Jenny opened the door to a flurry of activity. The men moved quickly but with deliberate care and the odd scratching of the sand was the loudest sound. A breeze caught her full in the face and she looked upwards to see the sails shifting in the wind, follwed by the sway of the Lucy turning on its axis and the groan of the mast answering it's call.

They were turning. Jenny held her hat against the breeze and climbed the stairs in search of the Captain and answers.

[William Brand]

William had all but gained the Maintop when john McGinty called down from the Main cross-tree. "Th' Lucy is takin' in sail an' looks t' be falling off...South...perhaps Soooouth byyyy...Southwest as I see it." William did not finish his ascent, but tangled himself sufficiently in the shrouds to take out his glass and search out the cutter. There she was, lovely in predicament, and well lit as she began to fall off to Starboard.

"You right, good bastard." William said of her captain, smiling. Then, knowing any call from the frigate would be mistaken for one from the Navarra, he dared to send orders down with more volume then anyone had used since the dousing of the lights. "No drums or calls! Pass quickly the word that we shall be to quarters!"

And though the deck was dark and no one face was distinguishable, William could see men scatter over one another to wake any man still abed.

[Dorian Lasseter]

As the officers of the Lucy stood and watched to see what the snow might do, another person gained the Holy Ground. Both Dorian and Preston were taking turns with the glass, observing the mystery craft and did not notice who had come up until the sounds of her shifting about caught some attention. Dorian turned slightly just to see who it might be, possibly waiting to ask a question or report something to him. He did a double take and turned fully to his Steward.

“Miss Ashcombe… very nice of you to come topside and join us for the entertainment…”

Preston also turned to her and nodded, gave her a once over and smiled some before turning his eye back to the snow.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Miss Ashcombe was at once bewildered. She was hesitant to climb the stairs as the officers only occupied the small section of deck above the ward room, but reasoned that the circumstances waranted it. Neither Captain Lasseter or Mister Whittinford seemed consternated at her presence there, but their response was unexpected given the obvious tension just below them. "Sir? "She looked in the direction Mr. Pew faced, glass again to his eye.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The Captain watched as Jenny looked into the darkness, wondering what it was they were seeing over the waves.

“Looks like you get a taste of things to come… We’ve a ship headin’ towards us, a snow ta be precise, an’ she hasn’t shown us her colours, so we don’t know wot her intentions are.”

The look on Miss Ashcombe’s face made it clear she wasn’t understanding what Dorian was talking about. As things stood, if there was ta be any form of battle, it was still a turn of the glass or more away, so he elaborated.

“That sail that was sighted, tis a two masted ship headin’ on th’ same course as we… She’s comin’ closer an’ we see some activity on her deck. Now th’ Cap’n o’ th’ Navarra hoisted the Spanish Flag, an’ we the French Flag. Now that ship out there will either hoist a flag of a nation soon, showing us she be an enemy or an ally. Her cap’n is playin’ it close, shoulda shown them colours by now if they were friendly… So… seems we’re gonna play a game an’ see wot ‘appens… An’ we got a bit o’ a surprise for ‘em… Cap’n Brand has darkened th’ Watch Dog… The Ship out there thinks we’re th’ on’y escort fer th’ Navarra…”

Dorian let all that sink in and waited to see if she had any questions.

[Pew]

"Bloody 'ell, " was all that Preston could muster.

Ash thought it was her appearance on deck that brought the ship's master to bear. She turned abruptly and looked into the dark. Ash didn't see what the fuss was about.

The ship's master had caught the snow turning about, still to windward, now following the Lucy. An abrupt call from Jerrod above brought the ship's officers to larboard, "SHE'S RAISIN' TH' CROWN'S ENSIGN!! BRITISH!! SHE'S BRITISH!!"

Dorian put the glass to his eye, "So she is," he remarked matter-of-factly. He turned slightly, "Mister Pew, clear the deck f'r action would you please."

Preston set his teeth and snarled, "Aye sah." The ship's master relayed the Captain's orders forward the quarterdeck. He walked amongst those in the waist calling forth the powder monkeys to give the guns crews linstocks and lit match. The anticipation of a pitched battle was running rampant among the crew. For most, it would be their first action since leaving prison, and for some their last.

The ship's master rejoined the Captain aft. Master Whitingford whispered, "an extra ration o' rum t' th' lads sah?"

"Very well," Dorian turned to starboard, "Miss Ashcombe . . . Miss Ashcombe," the ship's steward was in complete awe of the balanced movement now occuring upon the Lucy's deck.

"Yes sah, sorry sah," she replied.

"See t' those on deck, an extra ration o' rum, ifin y' please," ordered the Captain.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Jenny had turned in the direction of the Navarra. Indeed the Watch Dog as she had noticed from the stern windows before, was nowhere in sight.

She stared into the blackness as if an answer would appear and all would be made immediately plain, when Me Pew's words caused her stomach to lurch into her chest where her heart had already begun to race at the Captains explanation. She wasn't ready, how had she not truly considered the danger she embarked upon? Captain Lasseter's words brought her back to the present and his order somehow released her feet which had become frozen to the deck. She hurried below and finding the rum cask took up the copper dipper hung nearby and filled a smaller bucket usually reserved for water. Blinded with fear and confusion she began to walk solemnly between the men handing each in turn his ration. As she passed each some drank without taking heir eyes from the distant darkness and the threat which filled its void, others thanked her quietly. Some seemed almost excited and speculated in hushed tones pausing to reassure her and she was bolstered by their confidence. Slowly she crossed the deck from aft to fore. A million thoughts and questions racing through her head. She paused at the next man as she neared the stern again. She passed the dipper, but paid no attention to another man who may be gone as well as she by mornings light. Jenny looked out to the darkness and a lump rose in her throat. She closed her eyes slowly. shutting out the thoughts and was met with an image of the Children, mercifully interrupted by a voice at her side. "Steady Lass"..Jenny looked up to see the face of Mr. Tucker. The dipper seemed small is his grasp and he wore an expectant smile. "Yes sah". She lifted the bucket higher so he would not have to stoop.

[Dorian Lasseter]

At the call to quarters, Charlie Marsh headed to the break of the quarterdeck.

“Captain, we’re ta see battle, aye?”

“Aye Mister Marsh, it appears we are…”

“Cook-fire over th’ side then, sah?”

“As a matter of course, aye…”

Mister Marsh grumbled and walked away to follow the course of action. Captain Lasseter was annoyed that the ship’s cook had need to ask about doing such a thing, but understood a short time later when Charlie and Tjaak brought up the coals, Marsh grumbling all the while about having to relight a fire after the battle. All Dorian could do was chuckle at the nature of the man.

[William Brand]

William met Jim at the quarterdeck after wending his way through the quiet chaos of the maindeck. They stood without word for awhile watching the last of both watches assemble. The crew could not so much be seen as felt and heard, for even without words there was a presence of noise. Bare feet on larch. The rustle of hemp and wool. Shoulders colliding.

Badger and Roberts were at the stair and William met them there. "Bend all, gentlemen. Give me everything." It was not an exact order as orders went, but it didn't have to be. They understood what was needed. With the Navarra falling off to Larboard and slowing, they could clearly see the snow turning on the Lucy.

"Haste and hellfire. Aye, Sah." Jacob agreed, and there was a kind of rare merry in his voice. "Come, Jack. Let's be about it."

William turned again to Jim. "The boarding falls to you."

"Aye." Jim agreed, his tone neutral.

"I cannot call a vote of the Whole Company on the matter of our guests, but as the elephant was kind to me, I have enough to give up a share of the engagement."

"For the Spaniards then."

"Aye. A single share of mine to be divided with any of them who join the fray." William committed, then added. "...but only at the last."

"Very good."

Then silence. Every officer new his place and his purpose. Every able seaman new his worth and his own demons. The rest was waiting and the gathering speed of the frigate and the blood.

[Black Syren]

So it would come to this…for a moment her world narrowed, sounds muted as adrenaline caused her heart to leap wildly in her chest like a wild thing. Taking a deep breath her hands clutched the rail and she sought the inky darkness surrounding them. A hand upon her shoulder revealed Ciaran too searching the unknown his hand a mute testament to the camaderie all shared in this moment his face carved in stone. Alan stood at her other shoulder seeming to lean more casually against the rail, easy and relaxed. How she envied the stance of both in that moment, for her it was like waiting for a physical blow, she knew it was coming, just a matter of when. Her eyes darkened, her features moody with anxiety and fear.

Another deep breath was taken deep into her lungs, holding it, letting the familiar scent ease her thoughts before releasing it slowly. Men scattered about and a muted call for Marines to line up came. Looking to her companions she smiled, her lips quivering a bit but her nerves holding steady as she turned from the rail “Shall we gentlemen?”

In that moment come what may she was a marine first and foremost, a woman second and the threat that lay out of sight challenged that, “Let’s give the bastards a taste of the Dog.” The trio moved towards the other gathered marines and a heavy weight bumped her thigh causing her to glance down and see Argus at her side. His ruff was again high, his body on alert and she ran fingers through his fur causing him to look up at her before dropping his head once more watching and waiting.

All on board stood united and yet in a few hours depending on the outcome some could well be maimed or even killed. Her chest grew tight at the thought of death, the face of her little brother suddenly swam before her and her hand crept up to grip the cross at her neck and she muttered a swift prayer for all aboard. Another deep breath and her nerves steadied thought the taste of fear coated her tongue and it was a taste she was familiar with.

Ciaran said something and she drew her thoughts back away from the fear and back to the situation at hand and listened intently to the other marines speaking low as weapons were handed out.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Deck of the Lucy - Aft

"Don't look so stricken lass" Tucker spoke as he thrust the dipper sharply into the bucket Jenny strained to hold aloft, about splashing her with the rum and causing her to tighten her grip. A bolt of shame or perhaps anger at the challenge along with the sudden action stiffened her spine. It was deliberate on his part to shake the very fear from her bones and replace it with defiance. The pique showed in her face but Jenny held her tongue. Satisfied that he had rankled her, Tuck sought to add a quick bolstering. He jutted his chin towards the others, wiped it with his sleeve and gestured across the deck with the empty dipper. "Miss Ashcombe..you see these lads?.. aye, you will see em again. An ever again. Mark my words Miss Ashcombe, yer aboard The Lucy. She's a tight an fast ship an the Cap'n he knows his business."

Their conversation was interrupted by Marsh grumbling and returning with Tjaack to dump the fire over the side. Tucker chuckled.

He leaned into Jenny and pressed the dipper into her hand more gently. He couldn't have asked for a better example. "Fear should not be ignored, but 'tis wise to put it in it's place" with a nod he sent her off to return the bucket and report to the Captain and Master.

As she returned from the galley having witnessed the goings on in preparation, Jenny saw most carrying out their actions as if it were regular duty. They did so with a more serious resolve but seemed no less shaken for the possibilities that lay ahead. Instead they appeared confident and able and loyal to the last. These were not formal soldiers and more than a few had newly joined at Martinique. But there seemed to be an understanding. A quiet confidence. Jenny closed her eyes at the ward room door and resolved she would enter there many times again in better fortune. She prepared her mind to shut out all else and to the Lord spoke one more prayer for all aboard before joining Captain Lasseter once again on the holy ground.

[Dorian Lasseter]

All the men of the Lucy were on deck, save Charlie and Tjaak as they were clearing space just incase a hospital was needed for wounded. Dorian looked out in the darkness and noted what activity was happening on the Navarra. Men were on deck, but not in great numbers, and it was hard to tell exactly what they were preparing for. A hissing sigh escaped from his throat as he lowered the glass. Looking across his own deck was a different world. All the men were focused on whatever the next action would be, and that was just about to come.

“Larboard gun crews! Run ‘em out!”

The order was echoed forward and a great rumble of gun carriages vibrated through the Lucy. Miss Ashcombe had just mounted the quarterdeck stairs and now stood unsure of her place. The Captain noticed her there and addresses her calmly.

“Ah, there’s my Steward…... All the men get their ration?”

“She nodded and straightened some, finding her voice.

“Aye captain, sah. What are your orders for me?”

He studied her a moment and noted the look she now had on her face.

“Right now I have none, but may need you to carry out any number o’ things at a moment’s notice. Ah, something you may but hopefully will not have need of…”

Dorian thrust his hands into his coat pockets and withdrew the pocket pistols he had there. Checking the prime in each and seeing they were good, he handed them to his Steward.

“Just in case… “

Edited July 26, 2009 by Dorian Lasseter

[Red Cat Jenny]

Holy Ground of The Lucy

Jenny's blood began to rush as the Captain shouted the order which was followed by what sounded like thunder as the guns were loosed almost in unison. Heart pounding, she mounted the last two stairs as one. There she found Captain Lasseter calm as ever and was somewhat in awe. The display of confidence and absolute command followed by the well oiled sequence of the deck was a transformation from the earlier casual conversation and the seeming ease of a crew happy to be at sea. Truly her eyes were opened. Another measure of fear was driven back by this display and she found her legs more easily.

When the Captain handed her his own pistols..Jenny had not the words to say. She had less experience with smaller arms, but enough to accept them. She did not question whether he would be adequately armed less these two which she had seen him place in his pockets more than once. Ones he must be accustomed to, perhaps fond of. "Sah?" He nodded at her and advised she place them one in her belt and the other in the pocket of the wesket she had purchased at Martinique. "Thank you Captain, on my word I will return them" Lacking any further words, Jenny tried out a salute touching her knuckle to her brow as she had seen the others do.

[William Brand]

Eric Franklin approached the gathering of men and marines. "Ciaran, you're aloft." Ciaran smiled and rushed the shrouds, as musket and ball were passed to him. "Tribbiani, fall aft an' see arms to Luigi an' Wellings. They can fire from the portholes."

"Aye, sah."

"And take the dog. I'll not have him soundin' too early." he said with true threat in his voice. "He barks an' I'll see him shot."

"Aye, sah." she returned again, and could not fault the Master-at-arms for his concern. One mislaid foot, one solitary pistol discharged or one unintentional alert from a dog not yet trained to true soberness and all would be lost. She slapped her leg and the Argus was up and moving, though it cost him a little. "Good lad." He fell in beside her as she laid aft.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The time was coming closer to see if this interloper would indeed try his hand at fighting. Though he seemed calm, Dorian was hot for the battle and he fought back the almost primeval urge to give a war cry. He cleared his throat, checking himself before responding to Miss Ashcombe.

“Aye Gerl… ye shall return ‘em when ye have no further use for ‘em and no sooner…”

He turned to Mister Brisbane.

“Keep us broadside to ‘em long as I say an’ we’ll keep ‘em away from th’ Navarra…”

“Aye Cap’n.”

“Master Johnson… Hoy! Cut Throat! You be sure yer gunners clear th’ deck an’ smash their rig but good!”

“Aye!!! Aye Sah!”

Captain Lasseter had let just enough ferralness creep into his voice and his men reacted to it physically. If any had been nervous about the fight before them, none were now. It was slightly insane, the cutter was not a match to the snow in weight of iron of a broadside. She was faster under sail and thus more maneuverable so could run circles around the ship with ease. Some if the insanity might have been linked to the knowledge that the Watch Dog was prowling nearby in the darkness, ready to render the interloper to pieces should the need arise.

[Pew]

Suddenly several 'thuds' sounded just off the Lucy's larboard quarter. It was apparent the snow was attempting to engage the Lucy; a meager attempt, but attempt nonetheless.

Dorian laughed out loud and caught those officers off guard on the quarterdeck. "She want's t' give 's quarter. How thoughtful o' her. Mister Pew shall we appease th' lady?"

"O' course sah. Double round an' partridge sah?" Preston snickered.

"Aye. Lessee wot she's about. NIgel bring the Lucy back t' th' south, sou-east, t' th' wind mayhaps. Let 'er Cap'n think a jackeltart at th' helm."

Nigel smiled.

Preston laughed. "Jackeltart . . ." He stepped from the quarterdeck and announced the Captain's last order to the gun crews. The crews looked back to confirm the ship's masters last. "Aye, 's y' 'eard last, th' lot o' you. Th' Lucy's 'bout t' announce 'er presence."

Cut-throat looked aft to the master. A devilish grin formed upon his grizzen face, "Double-round, aye Master Pew. Twould b' my pleasure." The Master Gunner bowed and swept his hand broadly. He looked to the Masters' right, "By your leave Cap'n."

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Nay, B'lay that... leave 'em as they be... See if we c'n make a prize outta her, not send 'er ta th' deep..."

Dorian turned to Preston.

"Lad, lets not be too hasty... who knows wot they have in their hold fer us ta take, eh?"

[Pew]

"Aye sah, very well, sah . . ."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Master Whittingford looked a touch affronted by the belaying of gunnery order. Dorian narrowed his eyes and leaned in.

"Preston... we capture that snow... think ye can handle captainin' 'er ta Trinidad, aye? Now she ain't th' Lucy 'r 'Dog..."

The Captain cocked an eyebrow at his officer and waited for his countenance to change.

[William Brand]

Jacob Badger was in his element as he ordered men about from line to line and pin to pin. It was an orchestration of sail that built in volume as every stitch of canvas filled and carried the frigate forward. Soon she was flying across the darkness and Jacob could only rate her speed by the enlarging of the snow far off their Starboard quarter.

As dark as the 'Dog was then they could clearly see the first flashes from the snow and more than a few curses could be heard across the deck. Despite the order for silence throughout, they slipped out still, some in Gaelic here and others in French there. Even the Spaniards, new to the frigate by only a day, swore a little at seeing the flashes and the faint reports which came back against the wind.

And still the Lucy prevailed in beauty. A light and winsome thing bearing before the snow.

William sent for Mister Youngblood, who came up to the quarterdeck like a casual specter. It was the stroll of a man already in the moment, confident that he would divide the snow asunder if ordered. William found Petee's mood contagious and said as such. Brand gave over the great guns to the Master Gunner to use them as he would. Petee's smile, bright and disarming at the best of times, showed well against the darkness.

"They'll remember me ever after." he promised.

[Black Syren]

Footsteps seemed overloud and competed with her own heartbeat as she made her way aft and had to pause to shuffle things to open the door to the surgery. In the dark she stumbled as she clumsily booted the door closed with her heel and made her way haltingly towards the middle of the room. Luigi and Wellings were both awake though Wellings was still a bit groggy Ajayi seeming to sleep peacefully. “Weapons gentleman.” She murmured. Seeing Luigi’s shadowy figure slowly rise she passed him his musket and powder then propped Welling’s by his bedside and his powder upon his narrow bunk.

“Let’s get some air in here shall we?” Now that her eyes had more fully adjusted she made her way unerringly towards the first porthole and quickly unlatched it then to the next and so on till they were open. At once the muted noise became more discernible whispers. A rustling to her left had her peering through the darkness to make out Luigi and behind him further to the right she could make out Wellings trying to sit up.

“Stay there, there is no sense for you to be moving about at this moment. I doubt we shall see any of the action.” She tried assuring him and heard his grunted assent as he laid still once more. Argus however was quiet and she searched the shadows of the room to find him laying to the left of her under another bunk. “And if we do then I doubt we shall be boarded and if we are….” She broke off and Luigi trying to lighten the mood joked “There be a lot of but’s in there lass.” Wellings gave a muffled chortle and she shrugged “Aye but I never mentioned what would happen if those but’s became truth’s.”

Holding the musket was comforting, and she and Luigi once more grew silent and peered out at the night. Ajayi watching quietly and taking note of tones used as well as body language knew that trouble had once more come.