The Watch Dog

[Black Syren]

The song came to another end and she too was loathed to abandon the song that seemed to burn into her soul. Her voice stilled and she took a steadying breath and lifted her lids to peer at the sea and took note of the quietness of the ship but for the slap of sail cloth, and rope, the song of the sea as they passed.

But quietly the song continued, not in word but in note, a humming if it could be called that, a gentle tripping of notes and she stood slowly remaining in the shadow of the barrels and again blended her voice shyly, uncertain with the Altos.

But the voice of the other drew her on till her voice once more soared, the notes powerful, before drifitng away into something whimsical and playful, the notes darting to and fro trilling here rising there and skipping about teasing the other to follow.

[Silkie McDonough]

As sweet as the song is, it could not match her curiosity as to who harmonized so compatibly with her. She opened her eyes and began a slow search using her ears to guide her.

[Dorian Lasseter]

As the singing seemed to continue on Mr. Lasseter strolled to the rail at the break in the deck and leaned both hands on it. He watched as most all of the crew were idle while listening to the melody. As he looked across the deck to see if anyone was not in this 'trance' he noticed the sand glass run out.

"Mister Morgan... Mister Morgan! Tis seven bells... do your duty..."

Mr. Morgan jumped alittle as the Quartermaster said his name a second time, louder, then turned and knuckled his forelock. He grabbed hold of the bell rope and yanked the clapper to the bell.

*Ding, ding.... Ding, ding.... Ding, ding.... Ding....*

Dorian watched as most all the crew jumped as the first toll of the bell was struck. The melody stopped and all eyes looked around. Slowly the work began again...

Seven Bells of the Afternoon Watch

22 July, 1704

[Black Syren]

The spell the song had cast was abruptly broken by the clanging of the bells and she hurriedly leapt to her feet amazed at the passage of time. Not wishing to see but pretty sure she knew who the lovely alto voice had belonged to she scrambled to the armoury to clean her one lone weapon. A dagger. It was all she had been left with in the past and she would allow none to take it from her.

Quietly knocking upon the door she heard the masculine voice bid her enter and she quickly scurried in knuckling to him before requesting to clean her weapon. She looked upon him once then hastily lowered her eyes fighting her blush. She winced as she caught the door as the ship shifted upon a swell to keep it from closing.

[Pew]

I smile at the young lady now blushing and rubbing her shoulder.

"'s a mean bastid."

Siren looks at me quizically.

"Th' door," I say nodding in her direction, " 't's been known t' do that 'n occasion."

She smiles and enters the room. I rise from the stool and move towards the crate containing her personal arms. Avoiding eye contact, she hurriedly follows me. Stopping abruptly, I realize the weapons were in the crate closer than previously thought. Siren bumps into me from behind.

"Aye gerl, I be 'urryin'," I laugh.

"Sorry sir, I didn't mean..." I put my hand up quickly. "'s okay gerl. No worries. Smile."

She brushes the hair from her eyes and forces a smile through her embarrassment. The two aqua pools look at me quickly and then back to her weapons. Watching this young woman stand toe to toe with Eric Franklin and dress down Owen in front of his friends, I find it remarkable she speaks nary a word to me. Siren turns and tries to leave.

"Not so fast me lady," a questioning glance quickly falls over her face. "Yer weapons mus' stay 'ere as I can't sign 'em out jus' yet." Hoping she will fall for my ploy to get her to stay, she stands for a moment, and then sighs deeply.

I quickly pull out the small seat we have in our cabin and lay out a piece of heavy canavs for her to place her weapons on. She places them down and turns her back to me as she sits. Shaking my head to myself, I smile and pull out the dark bottle Eric and I have hidden in the desk. Tapping Siren on the shoulder, I offer the bottle.

"So 'ow'd you come aboard th' Dog 'ere?

[Black Syren]

She Only had the one dagger so it would not be a long stay, or so she surmised. Surprise had her turning quickly at his touch to see the bottle offered and she quickly shook her head. Not that she did not drink but she truly was not thirsty. But then she contemplated her decision for he was an officer and could find fault that she thought she was better than he by not drinking. Sometimes it was decidedly difficult to be a woman, in a mans world. But then again she was making her own destiny, and holding her own, and so it would be so until she decided when she was where she wished to be in the world.

She slowly almost reluctantly took the bottle and glanced up at him through thick lashes and seeing his nod quickly brought it to her lips and took a small swallow. Raising a brow almost defiantly she returned the bottle to him before lowering her eyes to her hands in her lap and missing his grin at her boldness. She had no clue what he was thinking nor that he was testing her, baiting her to draw her out.

At his questions she tensed and her eyes flashed up to him quickly shadowed with fear or so it had seemed for the emotion had been fleeting, but her eyes grew stormy once more, the only color in a now pallid countenance. Teeth gritted she stood abruptly but at his warning look she hastily sat and looked to the floor again. But suddenly her spine went stiff and she held her head with regal poise and spoke quickly hoping he would let her leave all the quicker.

"I came with the Captain." She looked to her one puny dagger and then everywhere else in the room but Mr. Pew. As his silence lengthened she looked up locking bold eyes with his "Was there anything else Sir?" she inquired, her tones still respectful but made huskier by drink or fear, but either way she was clearly ready to bolt and would do so given the first opportunity set before her. Only her hands betrayed her nervousness as it toyed with the tip of the dark braid that rested in her lap, that and the wild trapped look that lay deep in those blue green spheres.

Her past had been brutal, there had been no praise for work well done, no love. Not but what she had shared with her little brother and he was dead at her step fathers hands. Rage flashed in her exotic eyes and she trembled but this too soon passed. She sat before him still, seeming tranquil, but one could feel the tension she exuded even though it never showed upon her countenance. Indeed she seemed to calm as if they spoke of the weather and not a question that had her guarding secrets.

[Silkie McDonough]

The clap of the bell broke the spell. A new song began and Murin joined in but the beauty of the harmonies haunted her. Perhaps she had imagined them, a trick of the wind and her imagination. She would ask if Nathan had heard any voice other than hers when they had a moment to themselves.

Murin looked at her bandaged left hand as she extended the fingers then made a fist. The hand seemed more stiff from lack of use than in pain from the injuries to her palm. Perhaps Doctor Fitzgerald would release her to work. She made a determined and quick turn towards the surgery.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The crew now returned to their duties and off time workings, Mr. Lasseter turned to other things on deck. He watched the sails give an occasinal shiver around the edges, watched the pennant on the tip of the main mast for any shift of wind. They would find the trades soon, and if they weren't ready for the shift in the wind, they could findthemselves in irons or worse.

"Mister Morgan, keep an eye on the pennant... Soon we'll be with th' trades an' 'r gonna need ta adjust th' sails quick-like."

"Aye Sir..."

"Very goode... I need ta find some charts an' will be in th' Wardroom fer th' present... Pass along my orders to Mister Badger when he comes on duty..."

"Aye-aye"

The QuarterMaster nodded to Mr. Morgan's salute and headed dow the scuttle directly into the Wardroom. All was quiet here aside from a light snoring from the Captain's quarters. He smiled at this and did his best to silently move about the room, retrieving several charts and spreading them across the table. He cross checked them with one another, noting differences and making calculations in his head as to when they would meet the trade winds. According to the charts it would be some time in the middle of the next watch, give or take an hour. As he rolled up the charts, he heard the tolling of the bell, eight times, followed by Mr. Morgan's clear voice.

"Eight Bells of the Afternoon watch an' All's Well!"

He nodded and continued to roll up the remaining charts, tied the ribbons around them and placed them back in safe keeping. Stopping, he stood quietly and noted that no sounds of movement came from the Captain's quarters, so he quietly made his way back on deck...

[William Brand]

July 22, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Eight bells of the Afternoon Watch

First Dog Watch begins

Chanault was of two minds when Murin appeared in the surgery door to inquire after her injured hand. Part of him understood the woman's impatient desire to return to some service, for he recognized that she had never served an idle day in her whole life. The other part of him was perturbed, for the Doctor had made it quite clear that she would release the woman when she thought the time was right.

Still, before he could say aught one way or the other, Tempest entered from the adjacent room. She looked distracted a moment, but she smiled warmly enough, coming over to look at Murin's hand before Murin could utter a solitary word. Tempest undressed the wound methodically and then redressed it.

"Nothing but light duty, Miss McDonough."

Murin curtsied. "Thank you..." she started, but didn't seem to know how to finish, so she curtsied again and went out from the room.

Chanault gave Tempest a look which asked many things, but Tempest just waved him off with a small smile, too busy with her own thoughts to play at words with the cat. It was a kind of shooing gesture that made Chanault smile in an uncharacteristic manner from where he watched her in the corner. She plucked up a book from off the surgery table and slipped back into her private quarters.

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin quietly closed the door behind her as she left the surgery. She was pleased that she could work a bit now. She stood there for a moment in contemplation. She had been wanting to see Doctor Fitzgerald to ask her if she would kindly pierce her ears to accommodate the ruby earrings bestowed upon her. She turned and re-entered the surgery. To her disappointment the doctor was absent. Chanaults sat alone in the room. His eyes had clearly indicated his mood earlier. For the first time since she had met him Murin had known what he was about to say before the doctor had come to her rescue so few moments ago. His gaze revealed no interest and only a shade of curiosity now. Murin stood, frozen, a mouse trying to avoid the cat who's full attention was now on her. "err, ..pardon sir." She turned quickly to exit again, thinking it best to wait. Perhaps she should not wear such treasures anyway.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Once back on deck, Mr. Lasseter saw that the crew had just about finished the change in watch. Mr. Badger was now on the quarterdeck and the Larboard watch was on duty. As he stepped foreward and the wind buffeted he caught the smell of the Galley fire. The evening meal was being doled out to those just off watch and the wafting of the food scent eminated from below. The QuarterMaster inhaled deeply, trying to seperate the smells and discern what Mr. Gage had concocted this evening. There was the smell of salt beef mixed with potatoes, but there was some other smells there that were unfamiliar. They hinted at when they were at the Don's estate, yet were not quite the same. He stood and sniffed the air for a minute or two, then realized that he had an audiance. Mr. Badger and Mr. Brisbane were staring at him from the helm. They quickly shifted their gaze when they noticed he had stopped and was looking at them. Mr. Lasseter slowly walked the short distance to the helm and addressed them.

"Mister Badger... Mister Brisbane... What did you find so engrossin' off the lee quarter?"

They stood and exchanged glances, then Mr. Badger spoke.

"Nothin' Sah! We were just.... well..."

"Never you mind, Mister Badger... What might be th' galley fare this evening, do you know?"

"Er... Salt beef n' potaters... an' something else.... spanish, I think..."

Mr. Lasseter eyed them both for a time, then nodded.

"Very well... "

[William Brand]

Mister Gage and Miss Constance had their hands full in the galley serving the hungry watches. They heaped out large portions of food, all too aware that they would soon resupply well enough to replace any extra fare that they dished out. The crew didn't seem to mind at all as they stowed away plates of beef and potatoes, passing more than a few compliments back into the steam filled room.

The conversations at table that night naturally turned to the port cities of Martinique, including the bay overseen by Fort Royal and the taverns of St. Pierre.

Everyone aboard was getting anxious, and already some of the crew had bought and sold wares of finery to fellow crew members. Those fortunate enough to have extra shirts, scarves and hats, auctioned them away for an exaggerated price to men and women eager to look good when they landed ashore. Even some small arms exchanged hands and the Master-At-Arms was forced to make his share of changes to the tally as a pistol or knife shifted in ownership.

It was the commerce of men and women with heavy purses and fevered imaginations.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The QuarterMaster stood on the lee side of the deck, occasionally peering throught his glass at the surrounding sea. Not much had changed in several hours, the wind buffeted here and there, warning of the coming change. Once they found the trade winds the journey would be slightly harder as the wind and sea currents were slightly at odds. More care would need to be taken to ensure they were not off course.

[William Brand]

July 22, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Second Dog Watch begins.

Second Watch began with the usual routine. The lookouts descended from above, only to be replaced by the oncoming watch. The Larboard and Starboard watches traded crew for crew almost equally and the Watch Dog continued her progress without pause.

The galley remained busy throughout the change of watch, with its entire staff at the cook pots. Lazarus delved out portion after portion of hot fare until every sailor went down to the berth deck with a full belly and a satisfied smile. To add to this satisfaction, the rum ration was increased for the retiring watch by a half ration, and morale was high.

As for the Watch Dog herself, she made good speed, even as the trade winds began to turn against her.

- STARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY -

[Pew]

Eventually the entire crew had come throught the armoury to clean, repair and account for their personal arms. A few members had even remained behind to help honing the ships cutlass and axes as well as to wipe down the Watch Dog herself's weapons. Several plates of food had been offered to those busy in the armoury by the powder monkeys quickly running between decks to grab what supplies needed refilling in the armoury. The ship was humming like a beehive with each member in step with the other, picking up where the other had left off.

[Black Syren]

Mr. Pew had given her his leave though he had said nothing further so she did not know if she had offended him or if he mulled over her words. Reaching the deck she knuckled to Mr. Badger and quickly scurried aloft missing a handhold in her distraction and slipping causing her strained wrist to nearly yield her hold. But gritting her teeth she managed to gain her lofty perch and take her duty.

Sometime later the bells tolled and her duty was over for about two hours, she pushed at her windswept braid and narrowed her eyes over the ever changing sea and the winds which seemed determined to buffet the ship. Carefully she climbed down careful of her wrist and leapt to the deck again knuckling to Mr. Badger before heading for the galley below.

Seeing Owen she inclined her head to him and quickly sat to eat her victuals and sipped at her rum. Excitement lingered in the galley and brought a smile to her face as she listened to the bartering between most. As her belly was now full she decided to seek the Surgery before heading for her hammock for a nap about her wrist.

Knocking upon the door she waited without hiding a yawn. Her thoughts turning to Martinique and what it would be like.

[Dorian Lasseter]

As the second dog watch progressed, the QuarterMaster checked the logbook and again brought out the navigational tools. The winds were in change as they were now within grasp of the trades, yet not. He called Styles, Tucker, and Press aft to toss the logline as he made the calculations again. He had the line tossed twice more to check for drift as well. Once he had made his calculations, checking them thrice he had the helm adjust course to make up for the current. He had thought he might call all hands to braces, thinking the trades would be soon upon them, yet he was hesitant to take the watch off duty from their meal. Instead he found the Captain's Steward and had her see if he was to be on deck soon...

[William Brand]

Tudor entered the Ward Room with a kettle of hot water she had fetched from the galley. She filled a wide basin on the table there, careful not to overfill the vessel, for the Watch Dog was listing against a westerly current and an increasing attack from the trade winds. Then she began laying out the Captain's clothes. She placed his hat and coat across the great chair at the head of the table and set out his cutlass and baldric, which he had worn often of late.

She was careful not to disturb him, but as the gentle rolling of the frigate gave over to a heave and pitch, he was awoken anyway. He slipped from his hammock in his shirt and slops, running his fingers through a cockscomb of hair that stood up on the crown of his head, smoothing it back again.

He padded barefoot into the Ward Room, surprised and pleased to find hot water waiting for him. He was also pleased to see how well the Ship's Steward looked this evening and he said so.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Hot water..." he said, and his tone was many things. "...the luxury of busy galley."

"Mister Lasseter has inquired after your arrival on deck. Shall I tell him you will arrive presently, Captain?"

"Aye." he said, rocking with the boat as it pitched again to starboard. "The tradewinds...?"

"I believe so, Captain. Mister Badger has the watch very busy on deck."

"Thank you, Miss Smith. Inform the Quartermaster that I will be up momentarily."

She went out and William fetched a mirror and razor. Shaving proved difficult while Mister Badger wrangled the wind above, and the Ward Room cantered in all direction in long sways, but William still managed a decent shave. He bathed and toweled off a face already frowning with many thoughts and accessed himself in the mirror a moment.

Then he dressed and climbed the aft companionway to the quarterdeck.

July 22, 1704 - The Ward Room of the Watch Dog

Third bell of Second Dog Watch

- STARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY -

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian had the deck lanterns lit as the daylight started to wane. He had Mr. Badger fully involved in shifting canvas as they were now in the turbulent area where the tradewinds were grappling with the ship. As He had just finished lighting the lamp in the binnacle, Ms. Smith was at his elbow.

"Captain will be on deck shortly, Mister Lasseter..."

"Very goode... Thankee Miss Smith..."

She curtsied and was off, back into the lower parts of the ship. He checked the logbook and the one chart he had brought with him and his brow furrowed. according to his calculations, they should be sighting La Granade by now. Putting the heavy tome back in its niche, he took up a speaking trumpet and held it skyward.

"Lookouts aloft! Sing out when ya see land!"

He heard several responses to his command and lowered the trumpet to its place. He took up his own spyglass and took a look around the ship...

[William Brand]

"Mister Lasseter."

"Cap'n."

William borrowed the glass from the Quartermaster and scanned from horizon to horizon, but the sea was an open page in an otherwise blank book. Whatever history might be written today, it wouldn't be written here. Oh, some notation might be managed, copied down in degrees and knots, but it was to be a working night. Busy, but uneventful.

"We may 'ave to pair th' watches, Cap'n."

"Aye." William agreed. "But have Mister Badger hold out as long as he can with a single watch."

[Pew]

The shaded lantern had begun to flicker since it's original lighting signaling the length of time I had been in the armoury. I stand and stretch letting out a yawn that becomes more of a howl than anything else. Watching the last pair of crew members finish their tasks at hand, I blow on the ink to dry it more quickly within the armoury log book. Topside, Eric Franklin had taken my watch and I felt the need to return the favor.

As the last two crew members leave, I retrieve the lantern and place it on the small table in the cabin. I lock up the armoury and pull the dark bottle from the table drawer. Placing it upon the table top, the ship sways about and the bottle nearly top ends itself. With a quick hand I was able to catch the bottle only to drop the keys in the darkening room. I swipe my feet side to side and feel for the keys. With a loud screetch and a hiss, I found I have firmly planted my toe in the backside of Pandora.

"Sorry, luv, " was all I could manage before breaking into a fit of laughter. Finding the keys and placing the bottle well in hand, I close the cabin door behind me and begin to climb the ladder stairs.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The two top officers of the Watch Dog stood on the quarterdeck and swayed with the roll of the ship. the wind buffeting them every so often. The ship was very much alive and every soul aboard felt it this evening.

"Cap'n... I 'ave a need ta use th' 'ead... If land is sighted afore I get back, our course shall be Nor-noreast, a quarter east... tha'll but is in goode wi' th' trades an' keep us til dawn...."

William nodded and turned his eyes to the sails. Dorian knuckled his forehead and made his way aft, doen into the wardroom and off to the officers head on the starboard side. Once finished there, he headed to his quarters, washed up some and could not help but head for the Galley. There he was able to procure a bowl of the saltbeef and potatoes, a jack of beer and a buscuit. All of which he ate quickly, not wanting to waste time below when the open decks called to him so dearly. He finished with a resounding belch, which brought out laughter from those still in the galley. Dorian laughed too, then pardoned himself, heading to the outer realms of the floating fortress he called home...

[William Brand]

July 22, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Fourth bell of Second Dog Watch

First Watch begins

The Quartermaster returned to find the Captain watching the crew with a surveying eye. He joined him there and the two of them stood forward on the quarterdeck, each of them making observations about the crew as they worked.

"Pascal seems no worse for the accident." William yelled over a particularly hard gush of wind.

"Aye." Dorian yelled back. "And Mooney looks much improved."

Mister Badger was moving about below them, his eyes turned ever upward into the rigging calling up an adjustment here and an adjustment there. He demonstrated excellent skill in the fine tuning of canvas and it belied some previous experience. No doubt he had served on much larger boats than the 'Dog, for he seemed at ease in the changes he made.

"A good man in a poor wind." the Captain observed.

They nodded together like twin judges from one elevated platform, passing judgment on each effort and able seaman. There was little to find fault with, for Paul Mooney labored hard despite recent troubles and Pascal was as much aloft as he had ever been. Even the Ship's Tailor bid Mister Badger give her some errand or duty, and he sent her away with light work.

"This will be a fine wind when we can make use of it, Mister Lasseter."

"Aye, bless th' new canvas."

They both watched the flapping sails for time. The yards, stays and shrouds were being put through their paces. Mister Badger joined them a moment, looking both tired and thrilled from his work and Mister Lasseter plied him with one of his common questions.

"What news, Mister Badger?"

"Sah, I'll like this wind better tomorrow." he said, resigned to the wind as it was now. "But they make fine sailcloth at Margarita."

"Aye." Dorian agreed.

"Fruit of the Danzig, Mister Badger. We shall have to rescue another merchant in half a year's time."

And before more could be said than 'Aye', the Bosun was swept down to the deck by necessity as the Larboard Watch replaced the Starboard, ready to answer his every alteration.

-LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY-

[Black Syren]

As Tempest bandaged her wrist and dismissed her she inclined her head and made it back on deck just as the bells to summon her to duty were rung. The winds by now whipped at her clothing and she lifted her head to face the winds, it would seem the trade winds had found them. She knew the winds blew steadily from the east and slightly towards the equator at anywhere between 10 and 13 knots. It would also seem they were traveling against the currents.

Knuckling to Mr. Badger she hurried to the ropes and quickly swung upwards though with the winds and her wrist her ascent was much slower that she would have liked. Gritting her teeth she clambered on till she reached her post and there settled in again. The winds seemed stronger here and she glanced down to see the deck and all those scurrying about making sure the sails were tuned minute detail.

Settling back she watched the horizon for she also knew that the trade winds often were heavily laden with moisture and could often produce squalls close to the Isles and oft at sea. She glanced down and about taking note of the Telltales, small free lines left to flow in the directions of the breezes and enabling them to better adjust the sails if needed. Shivering slightly in the winds she took her long braid and placed it down her shirt and wesket to keep it from her face and took wary notice of the sea and the horizon again.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The winds were getting foul... The trades were trying to grab the Watch Dog from the Easterly winds she was traveling by. Contrary gusts were buffeting the ship and crew as the daylight faded away. Mr. Lasseter turned and cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted to the Captain.

"We should take in sail, Cap'n! Slower goin' but wi' th' winds boxin' th' compass, I'd not want ta be dismasted!"

William furrowed his brow and began to nod his assent when the wind nearly took his hat from his head. He clapped a hand on it, shoving it down on his crown. He then nodded more forcefully.

"Make it so!"

Dorian turned and yelled down to Mr. Badger to shorten sail, who in turn bellowed the commands, followed by the shrill call of his whistle. Hands scrambled from below and up the shrouds. As the crew edged out along the yards a loud crack was heard from aloft, followed by the flogging of canvas.

"Bloody Hell! Main t'gallant parted! "

Mr. Badger bellowed more commands and blew his boatswains whistle, more crew scrambled from below and up into the rigging.