The Watch Dog

[William Brand]

William looked up from the Maastricht's ledgers, charts and documents at the sounding of the eighth bell. He gathered all of these finds up and went up to the quarterdeck. Orders went down from here to the Maastricht crew as they were divided into watches for rest. The Starboard watch went to their hammocks with great relief, though the Master Carpenter and Bosun went with some trepidation. William reassured them that the work would be better served by rested officers and sunlight light, both of which would come after a change of watches.

Dorian's voice carried over the water from the Heron as William went over to the 'Dog to rest the Starboard watch there.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Mr. Tucker's voice rang out, repeating the commands given by the captain. In short order the cutter was turned into the wind, all canvas let out or down. The ship came to a standstill.

"All hands, lay aft!"

Dorian called out. Every crewmember soon stood in the waist, looking at their captain who was backlit by the sternlights.

"Had we more time, I'd a done this afore we cast off.... Th' Watches are ta be as follows..."

He opened the ledger and read off the names of the Larboard and Starboard Watches. Some were pleased with their station, while others, like Mr. Weers were not pleased, being demoted from their former station.

"Right, now ye know where ya stand fer this voyage... we'll be startin' wi' th' Star'd'b watch... and, we'll run th' mid, n' mornin' like dogwatches so we c'n all 'ave an easier night... rest some, work some... So... Larb'd watch, to yer hammocks... Starb'd watch, to yer posts, get us under weigh again."

He nodded to the men as they headed to their duties. Once they were under weigh again, he called Roche aft.

"Aye capitaine Lasseter?"

"Mister Roche, you an' Styles are the marines o' this watch.... I need you two ta be ever vigilant, for matters with th' new lads. I'll have you send a second musket up ta the nest, an have th' marine on deck armed with not only his musket, but a brace o' pistols... Just ta be sure... on yer change o' watch, inform th' other marines of my orders..."

"Aye-aye, Capitaine.... you have the key to the armoury?"

"Ah, so I do.. so I do... come lad, I'll let ye in..."

And off they went to the small armoury, collected the arms required and all headed back on deck...

[Pew]

As the Heron slid into the night, preparations were being made for the Maastricht and the Watch Dog to follow suit.

Placing the prisoners below on the Maastricht, Eric and I stood on the main deck there.

“So we still ‘ave Ciaran and Siren aloft aye?” he asked as more of a statement.

“Aye, we’ll also ‘ave McGinty and Morrell. Mebbe, jus’ double th’ marines aloft on th main o’ th’ Maastricht, no need for a lookout on the foremast ‘ere. Ciaran and McGinty on th’ Maastricht, then Siren and Louis aloft on the Dog,” I figured aloud.

“Alan, Claude and Bill would b’ left on th’ larboard watch with Manus then,” I continued.

“’ould work well.” Eric agreed. “Oh, Preston, Mister Flint request t’ go aboard th’ Heron with Mister Lasseter.”

“Ah, does Mister Lasseter know?” I asked wondering if Mister Flint asked the wrong man for permission. Too late for permissions I thought as the Heron slid away.

“Cannot say Preston.”

“Damn, that’ll leave ‘s short again,” I muttered. “So Alan, Claude, Manus, and Robert are left.”

“Aye, who’ll take Lawrence’s place?” Eric asked taking a long pull form his tankard.

“Paul Mooney.” I answered without thinking.

“Aye, none better,” Eric agreed. “What about Miss Smith? Did you talk to th’ Captain?”

“Captain said to let ‘er choose.”

“So?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Why not?”

“Not the right time.”

“Uh-huh,” he smirked.

“What’s that for you git?” I pushed him off the barrel.

“You know.”

I shook my head as Eric laughed. “So,” I began abruptly changing the topic, “Alan, Claude and Robert will now be aboard the Maastricht, with specific attention paid to the Dutchies below.” I took a drink from my tankard. “Paul and Manus will stay aboard th’ Watch Dog.”

“Aye, Louis and Siren aloft, right?”

“Aye.” I hopped off the gun’le, “I’ll let th’ Captain know we reassigned th’ marines. Did th’ marines on th’ Heron ‘ave an ample supply o’ wadding, cartridges and flints?"

"Aye."

"Goode, less get th’ others t’gether an’ let ‘em know of their assignments ‘til Martinique.”

[William Brand]

Mister Pew found the Captain yawning at the binnacle of the Watch Dog. A long day had come and gone and William looked as tired as any, but he stood by awhile as Mister Pew explained all of his changes to the marines, and he agreed that Paul Mooney would make a good replacement.

"He'll do good service. Aye." William said, and unable to stifle another yawn, he turned over the deck to the Master-at-Arms. "The deck is yours, Mister Pew."

"Thank you, Sah."

William went below. He was glad to find the Ward Room cleared of debris, and apart from the damage to the Starboard quarter galley, the Ward Room seemed relatively unscathed. He crossed to his own quarters and slipped out of his clothes without ceremony. dropping himself into his hammock at once.

Before three minutes had passed he was asleep.

[Dorian Lasseter]

24 July, 1704

Onboard the Heron, Four Bells of the Morning Watch

The watches had changed three times now, the fourth coming on now. Captain Lasseter had retired when the first watch had changed mid way through the Mid watch, and was now about to make his way back into the world of the living. He came on deck as the Larboard Watch had settled into the routine and looked about the ship and across the waters. There, off the starboard quarter lay the Frigate and Fluyt, still embraced. The grey of pre-dawn was just creeping up on them, a slight sliver of light at the eastern horizon showed and helped illuminate the other ships. Dorian stood on the quarterdeck and opened his glass, swept the horizon all around the ship before speaking.

“Mr. Brisbane… report th’ evening’s findings…”

“All’s well, Cap’n… fair wind, slight chop… an’ she still handle like a dream, sir…”

“Very goode… carry on…”

Capt. Lasseter walked foreward to the bow and back. It was a trip half as long as he was used to, so he did it again. On his second return to the quarterdeck, a grin slid onto his face.

“Nigel… take a moment… I’ll take th’ tiller… see if I agree wi’ yer…”

“Aye-aye Cap’n… she’s all yours.”

Mr. Brisbane stepped away as Dorian took hold of the tiller and proceeded to make minor course adjustments, the grin becoming a slight bit wider as he did so…

~Larboard watch on duty, the Heron~

[Pew]

I made my way to the Quarterdeck and surveyed the darkened scene on the Watch Dog. Things were nearly back to normal. The arms had been stowed, barrels and stores taken aboard, canvas and cordage had been stitched and awaiting proper placement. The lanterns had begun to dim as the sun peeked over the far horizon.

Eric had assembled those called marines. In a small circle we stood with Paul Mooney in the rear.

"Th' last several hours events 'ave changed seve'l things aboard ship 'ere. We 'ave lost one of 'r own. None more fitting t' take 'is place than 'is brother Paul." Each head in the circle nodded an affrimation that was not needed but more one done of understanding. Paul himself has a small tear well in the corner of his eye.

"Mister Lasseter 'as some of our lot aboard th' Heron. Mister Franklin an' I 'ave set the rest o' you about the Maastricht and Watch Dog as needed," I spoke quietly. Eric pulled the shaded lantern from its spot and removed the slip of paper he used for the roster from the armoury log. Handing the paper to me, he held the lantern over my shoulder. "Mister Pew, Alan and Robert reamin below on the Maastricht with the prisoners."

"Aye Mister Franklin." Eyeing the lookouts first I pointed, "Ciaran and McGinty, you two will be aloft in th' Main on th’ Maastricht," looking to Mister Morrell and Miss Tribbiani, "then Siren and Louis aloft on the Watch Dog." Both pairs nodded and smiled.

"Claude, you Alan and Robert will be aboard the Maastricht, wit' strict attention paid to those below. Rotating watch quite often. Mister Franklin will be aboard 's well. R'port t' him." I continued around the circle, "Manus, you and Paul will be on deck here on the Watch Dog. Paul, I want you in the waist and Manus on the fo'c'stle deck. I will remain aboard the Watch Dog. Each of you, go with Mister Franklin b'low t' refill your cartridge boxes and r'port to your posts."

[William Brand]

July 24, 1704

Between four and five bells of Morning Watch

William slept a watch and a half before waking. His sleep had not been so deep for some time, and he awoke alarmed at the amount of light which crept in through gaps in the shuttered windows. He bathed his face and arms, dressed, and went up to the quarterdeck. There he found the Coxswain and the Master-at-Arms conversing on the subject of taverns both favorable and awful.

"Good morning, Gentlemen. Your report Mister Pew."

Mister Pew laid out a detailed report of all prisoners, marines and the work aboard the Maastricht as he understood it. He reported that Paul Mooney had excepted his post with due diligence and that the prisoners had offered them no sign of treacherous behavior. Furthermore, the new recruits were also demonstrating a favorable transition aboard both vessels. The Dutch doctor and the First Mate of the Maastricht had completed all of the pressing surgeries of the night, but two of the wounded had already succumbed to their injuries.

William nodded, and he was not surprised to hear of added losses among the wounded. He looked out over the almost barren decks of the Maastricht, where even now, hammers still rang out.

"Thank you, Mister pew."

"Owen 's showing signs of fever, Cap'n." Mister Pew added as a final amendment to his report.

William nodded to this as well. "His injury was no small trifle. If he is anywhere on duty, have him report to the surgery for bed rest, and remind him that a dead man does not go ashore to spend."

"Aye, sah."

"Take two more able seamen as temporary marines and trade them out with those marines most in need of sleep. Then when you have seen Owen to a hammock, see to yours. I want you rested through the forenoon watch. I have the deck."

[Pew]

"Aye Captain."

I made my way from the deck to find Owen in surgery already having his dressings changed. I told him of the Captain's orders; he looked relieved whether his discussion afterward was contrary. Several of the crew below were roused from their hammocks to change out the watch for those marines that had been on duty since the first sighting of the prizes. As the marines walked below I met each in the galley for a bit of bread and some fresh water before retiring to my cabin.

As my hammock was laid out I removed my shirt and balled it into a small pillow. Landing in my hammock, the gentle rocking of the Watch Dog lulled me into a deeper sleep than I had ever remembered.

[William Brand]

Work aboard the Maastricht continued until nearly eight bells of Morning Watch. By this time, the Master Carpenter, Bosun and Blacksmith were convinced enough of their work to make a run at the tradewinds. During the night, a prevailing westerly current had carried them far enough out to open water, so that it would require them to set a course primarily to the East at first.

The galley fires of both ships were put to task as a shared meal played out past eight bells of the Morning Watch, so that by first bell of the Forenoon Watch, all hands and prisoners were fed and William gathered his officers at the adjoining gang plank. Jim Warren was sent over to join the Bosun, Carpenter, Blacksmith and Sergeant-at-arms on the Maastricht, along with the marines and able seamen already assigned there. To this, William added Miss Constance for their galley and ordered each officer to carry a brace of pistols.

With this accomplished, the officers fetched powder, pistols and personal effects against the voyage. This took no time at all, and soon they were all back aboard the Maastricht, where William waited to present official papers to Mister Badger. They exchanged many opinions on the subjects of course and prisoners. William sent down his final orders that the Maastricht should follow the Heron as she may, with the Watch Dog to parallel her by degrees. Having no Spanish colors aboard, the Maastricht would require a sheet of plain canvas sufficient to make her a Bourbon Banner at the flagstaff and Mister Badger was to do as he saw fit until they were all together again at Cul de Sac Royal. Then, William passed over those documents necessary to the Bosun, should they be divided, and he gave him the ship for the duration.

As they unlashed those lines which gammed the two ships, William went to the quarterdeck of the Watch Dog, to observe the Heron making her lazy circle in the sea. When she was close enough to call out, he gave Captain Lasseter leave to make his way forward of them along the chosen course. The Heron slipped by them with speed as the frigate and Fluyt drifted slowly apart. Mister Badger was already guiding the Maastricht forward with his usual finesse, and, but for her diminished foremast, she looked as seaworthy as any weathered vessel.

In a very short time their small flotilla was under way.

July 24, 1704 - Bound for Martinique

Two Bells of the Forenoon Watch

[Dorian Lasseter]

Captain Lasseter still had the tiller when William hailed the Heron, instructing him to make sail East north-east a quarter east to get back on course to Martinique. Dorian doffed his hat as a response and with speed made his way to the head of the small flotilla. Mr. Tucker stood close by, waiting to see when the Captain would relinquish the helm. At three bells, Dorian did just that.

“Mister Tucker, you have th’ helm…”

“Aye-aye Cap’n…”

“Keep us in this tac til otherwise noted…”

“Aye-aye…”

Dorian walked to the lee side of the small quarterdeck, stretched some and ran his eyes up and down the Heron. Noting all that was above board. He remained in place for a time, then excused himself, walked foreward and greeted the crew as he made his way to the bow. Once there he took his leave of the head and started aft. As he walked passed the flag locker on deck he came up short. They were not flying any flags or pennants and he decided it was time to change that. Opening the locker, the first flag in view was the English Naval flag, this was taken up and set to the side, underneath were several flags, some of which he had not expected to see. There was of course the Dutch flag, but under that was a French, a Spanish, and another flag he did not recognize. It was tricolour, white on top, blue center and red below. As he stood there holding the flag spread out Stadtmeyer walked up to him.

“Captain… you look puzzled…”

“Ah… Mister Stadtmeyer… what nation’s flag is this?”

“That is the flag of the new Russian Tzar… Peter…”

A look of confusion closed Dorian’s face.

“Russia has a navy? A real navy?”

“Aye, Captain… last year they commissioned a fine ship, a Frigate… Tis their flagship… I’ve seen it with mine own eyes…”

“Very interesting… indeed… I would assume they are allied with th’ English then?”

“Aye…”

“Right… thankee Mister Stadtmeyer…. Ye been most helpful…”

Stadtmeyer knuckled his forehead and continued on his way below while Dorian folded and place the Russian flag back in the locker. With a grin he put away all but the French and English flags.

“Jameson, Brant… Fly these flag if you please… the French above the English…”

Mr. Brant knuckled his brow and kept a neutral look on his face, while Jameson broke into a wide grin, barely stifling a giggle as he to knuckled his brow. They set to work and soon had the flags bent to the line. Up they furled flags went, as they reached the peak, they fell open and the breeze caught them well.

“Better… much better… Thankee lads… carry on…”

Four Bells of the Forenoon Watch

The Heron

24 July, 1704

~Starboard Watch on Duty~

[William Brand]

July 24, 1704 - Aboard the 'Dog

Five bells of the Forenoon Watch

Siren had been aloft so long now, that she had forgotten what it felt like to stand on her own feet. The mast was ever the inverted pendulum so that siren had to brace herself well to keep from being tossed about. The prevailing wind was also such that her face and hands were blasted to the point of weariness. All was fatigue and weariness, but she kept a vigilant watch on the sea, the 'Dog, the 'Maastricht, and the distant bobbing Heron.

...

In the surgery, William sat patiently as Tempest made improvements to the dressing on his hand. The wound was cleaned for the second time and she redressed it with fresh cloth.

"You have been quiet of late, Doctor." William observed, and she answered him with silence. This brought a smile to his face.

"You might have been more careful." She said, finally.

"I was careful, but the gentleman in questions was ever so determined to cut my throat."

"You might have lost the hand."

"But gained an affectation often attributed to me in rhyme and gossip." he said with a smile. "Perhaps a barbed implement to replace this all too human feature. Think with what mirth Mister Hawks might have gone to his anvils in order to fashion me with a devilish trident or knife. I would become that which I am imagined to be. A red devil of the high seas."

"Amytal."

"Absolument pas! Red, my good Doctor. Rouge cardinal. Rouge-sang." He smiled a little and tapped his head. "Rouge cuivre..."

It was her turn to smile. She shook her head a little as she did so, bandaging the hand with the care of a watchmaker, and still she remained quiet and he had time to wonder if her thoughts were elsewhere.

"I am tempted to keep you a prisoner aboard ship when we reach Martinique, Doctor. For fear of losing you to French courts."

"Je ne pense pas." She said, raising an eyebrow again. William looked at her for a long time, but thought that his jest might prove prophetic by week's end.

"Neither do I."

[Dorian Lasseter]

24 July, 1704

The Heron, en route to Martinique

First Bell of the Afternoon Watch

The Heron sailed at a slower speed than she liked, due to the fact that she was a much faster ship than the Watch Dog, and more to the point, the damaged Maastricht. She had been forced to shorten sail to accommodate the others and seemed to be moving in slow motion. The time still passed agreeably, and as the first bell of the Afternoon Watch rang out Dorian decided it was time to sort out the ship a bit more…

“Mister Johnson… Lay aft…”

The Gunner made his way aft and stood in the waist, looking up at the Captain.

“I’d like ye ta begin ta sort out th’ guns aboard… Take all those not currently busy if ye need an’ start foreward… Clean ‘em, check ‘em fer damage, make sure their lashed down proper…”

“Aye-Aye Sah!”

Johnson was smiling by the time Dorian had finished with his orders. He had a love of great guns and even if those aboard the Heron were mere four pounders, they were still cannon. He gathered Brocke and Wenge along the way foreward and they were soon on their knees around the number one gun, talking and pointing out its needs. Mr. Lasseter nodded to himself, happy to see some of the men at work. His stomach protested to him and he realized he hadn’t eaten in some time. He knew a morning meal had been served by the smell of the cook fire, yet nothing had come his way. He hadn’t even seen Miss Moore since they set sail. He headed to what passed for a galley on the cutter and found the young woman there, stoking the cook stove. She turned and jumped, not realizing the captain was standing there.

“Miss Moore… Are ya well?”

“Yes sir…. I mean, aye-aye sir!”

“How did the mornin’ meal go?”

“It went well sir…”

“It did? That’s grande… What was it?”

She was about to say, when a look crossed her face. She turned pale.

“You… you didn’t get any… did you?”

“Nay Gerl… I did not… nothing was brought to me…”

“Oh gawd… I’m so sorry sir! I didn’t mean to forget! I’m not good at this!”

“Now, now… settle… settle yerself… I’m not cross… well, not too much… Tell ye what… make up a pot o’ tea an’ a plate o’ cheese n’ ships biscuit, put it in th’ wardroom an’ tell me when i’tis ready…. Then start on the next meal… Calm yerself… “

She looked about in tears, but his words calmed her, she took a shaky breath and let it out.

“Aye-aye sir… Thank you for not being so mad at me…”

“S’a’right gerl… Just try not ta let it slip again… “

He winked at her and headed back to the quarterdeck, even as his stomach protested again…

~Larboard Watch on Duty~

[William Brand]

July 24, 1704 - Aboard the 'Dog

Second bell of the Afternoon Watch

The Afternoon Watch was already under way by the time William emerged from the Ward Room. He had spent half an hour's time updating the Watch Dog's logbooks with the simplest of notations. He understated the battle, but with the intention of returning to the volume later for more descriptive remarks.

Now he squinted into a clear sky. The day was sunny and apart from a wind that threatened occasionally to back the sails, it was a good day for sailing. If they could maintain this speed unhindered, they might make landfall in less than three days, even with the limping fluyt.

William went to the rail and drew out his glass, though the Maastricht was not far off. He noted Mister Badger on the quarterdeck. "Bring up the logline!" he ordered, and it was brought up in short order. He manned the line himself, while Miss Smith counted off the trailing knots and he was surprised to find their progress over the sea was faster than he would have supposed.

"A blessing on all good Bosun's" William said, appreciation in his voice. He called out to the Maastricht. "How is it with you, Jacob!"

Mister Badger turned and came to the rail of the Maastricht. "Lend me another degree North and I'll give you a full knot in return, Cap'n!"

"Perhaps by nightfall!" William shouted back. "How does the fore fare?"

"Stunted, but strong!"

William thanked him and spared himself any more shouting. He went below to see how the new recruits were faring. This forced him a few times to use his poor Dutch as often as some of them used what little English they could manage. Almost half of them could speak a little English, some even spoke very good English, but many could speak none at all. Fortunately, some of those who had no grasp of English, could speak passable French, and would therefore do better ashore at Martinique than many of the original crews members. It was going to take weeks and months before everyone aboard could understand everyone else. William spoke with as many as he might before returning to the weatherdecks. As he went, he counted the languages known among the crew...English, Dutch, French, Italian, Spanish, German, Arabic, Yoruban, Huron, Gaelic and a smattering of localized dialects. If you counted James Whiting alone, you had to consider his understanding of Greek and Latin, owing to his education as a man of the cloth. Jacobus Casteel had managed to pick up almost six languages in his short lifetime, a surprising revelation that William had just learned from one of the other recruits.

"Six languages." William said, as he approached Mister Pew. "Six."

"Sah?"

"Casteel speaks six languages...at least well enough to make his way."

Mister Pew made an appreciative nod. "Everyone speaks more of them than I, Cap'n."

"Aye." William agreed empathetically. "I have forgotten enough Dutch to claim a second language, and my Arabic has more rust than the bowers. What shall we do with a man who speaks six, I wonder?"

"Drown him for a knave." Mister Pew returned at once. "Any man that speaks six languages might mutiny anywhere."

William smiled, but Mister Pew did not, and for a moment William could not be certain if the Master-at-Arms was joking. When a slow smile finally creased his face, William slapped him on the shoulder. "Mister Pew, I owe you a drink for your service."

"Aye, Sah." Pew agreed at once with a widening smile. "But I believe you owe me two at least."

They went off in search of an undamaged bottle.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Miss Moore had come on deck and informed the Captain that his requested meal was in the wardroom, and he had gone below after giving the deck over to Nigel. He ate in relative silence, looking through some of the books that were left by captain Stoneburrows. He may have been a fool, but he was an educated fool. Nothing piqued his interest so he set the books aside and looked out the stern windows. Some of his view was obscured by the ships’ boat that hung off the stern. He watched the water flow past, watched the wake of the ship trail away. He sat on the locker bench under the windows and drank his cooling tea, chewing on a ships biscuit while contemplating the sea. He downed the last of his drink and as he lowered his mug, his eyes settled on the bottom of the Jollywatt hanging outside the stern windows. The paint was worn and flaking off, there were possible signs of dry rot, and some damage from the battle as well. He stood and headed to his table, refilled his tea and sat. He readied a pen and parchment and began a list of repairs he wished done on the ship and its rig. He finished his tea as he finished up the list and sat back as the ink dried. After he had waited long enough, he took the list in hand and headed on deck. He saw that Mr. Johnson and his mates were finished with both foreward guns. They were cleaned, repaired, and stowed, even the tompions were in the muzzles. He noticed Mr. Wenge had his tool box with him and Dorian approached, asked for a hammer and nail, which he gave him freely. The captain took the items aft and nailed the list onto the hatch that led below. He returned the hammer to Mr. Wenge with his compliments and headed to the small bit of holy ground, waiting to see who would take notice of the list first…

24 July, 1704

Four Bells of the Afternoon Watch

[Black Syren]

Tired. She could not ever remember being so worn and yet exhileration still flowed hotly through her veins. She tilted her head back to further clear the cobwebs and wished for coffee or something stronger to keep her more fully alert. A laugh below had her peering down to the decks and she could tell the ribbing one of the crew mates was getting had him flustered for even she could see him blush. She grinned for a moment…life did go on.

Again her gaze swept out over the sea taking in the tranquil waters which now lay like glass, the sun making it sparkle like the finest of jewls. The Heron and Maastricht added to their fleet and she watched both ships for a moment their grace bewitching on the open waters, before sweeping her gaze out to the horizon and seeing nothing further.

A splash to the starboard side caught her attention and she looked down to see a pod of dolphins, their shapes dark and lively beneath the sea before suddenly leaping free of the water with a spray and squeeking their language before diving deep lost to view. There were at least 15 that stayed with them for the next hour frolicking at their side and then they were gone.

Stifling a yawn behind her hand she lifted her face to the winds hoping to dispel her fatigue, she shifted from where she sat and rolled her tight shoulders and cast her gaze back out to the horizon. Her mind wandered to Martinique and what she would do once there..Thoughts of a swim filled her and she grinned….Her gaze eagerly sought the horizon now for the first sight of land…And the promise of a swim.

Her fatigue fading somewhat she hummed merrily tapping her sandaled foot before giving her voice freedom to sing an Italian aria her mother had taught her as a child.

[William Brand]

The Captain and Master-at-Arms reached the ward room and William was able to secure a bottle which had survived the recent events. He poured two drinks and passed a glass over.

"To sober men of courage." William said, and the underlying humor was not lost on Mister Pew.

"To dry powder and willing targets."

They both drank and William gestured to a chair at the table. He sat down himself and leaned in to refresh both glasses.

"I have some business, but of no great importance to the whole company. Owing to their sightings before battle, McGinty and Tribbiani are due a pistol or small arm each from the Maastricht and Heron respectively. McGinty shall have to wait, of course, but Miss Tribbiani comes down at eight bells, and I should like her to choose her new prize from among the Heron's small arms. Have we any aboard ship?"

[Pew]

"Aye sah. A pair. I found 'em inna locker near the powder stores b'low decks. Well, Eric found 'em, French I b'leve. Ya know sah, mebbe they were from the Maastricht, cannot 'member quite right sah. Benn along day." I hoped the explantaion was good enough but as tired as I was, even the short nap hadn't helped much. "I c'n check th' log again sah." I took a long drink and sighed slowly.

[William Brand]

"When you have ample opportunity, Mister Pew. If the arms of the Heron are not aboard the 'Dog, she may choose a pistol when we make landfall. And the same may be said of Mister McGinty."

"Aye, sah. "

"Also, if you should find you need more sleep than a single watch will grant you, then you may have two watches together if you wish. Sleep as much as you need. We will be sailing and sailing with little else to do at present. With our carpenters on the Maastricht and Heron, the quarter galley will see no repairs, so enjoy the silence and sleep some."

[Black Syren]

The joviality below almost seemed surreal considering the past day, the fight at sea and the two ships now ahead of the WatchDog. She turned her attention back to the Heron to watch the graceful cutter slip through the waves with no fuss. The French flag, White with the three Fleur-De-Lis for design flapping proudly above the English flag A blue and white field with a red cross. She had once read that French regiments had many flags and in..What year was it..1690 or so at the Battle of Fleurus that French troops unknowingly attacked each other and this had later led to the regiments attaching white scarves to their flags letting other French regiments know they were brothers. And too it was the color of the French King, and later evolved into the Fleur-De-Lis. Or at least that is what she had once read if memory served.

She turned her gaze from the Heron to the Maastricht and watched as it seemed to lumber along in the waves not at all as graceful as the Watchdog or the Heron and wondered if the Captain would keep them or sell them once they reached port. And if he kept them, what would they be named. She lifted her spyglass and took a sweep of the sea before settling again and reaching up to slip a lock of hair that had escaped her braid back behind her ear. Again she rolled her shoulders and swung her legs to revive feeling in limbs numb from sitting and slowly arched her back hissing with discomfort.

Seeing Ciaran watching her she gave him a mischievous grin causing him to shake his head and wink at her before he too went back to watching the sea. She looked to the decks watching the sailors go about their duties efficiently. She studied each for a moment before settling on Owen and watching him for some long moments before once more returning her gaze to the sea.

[Pew]

"Sleep, aye sah." I rubbed my eyes and let out a yawn that was unintended. Before I reached my hammock I decided to look for the small tarred chest Mister Franklin had uncovered previously. Unlocking the door to the armoury, I peered in with the shaded lantern out in front. There, on the many stacks of crates was the chest. Remebering it's appearance, I didn't remember if Eric had logged it into our possession. I found the logbook but did not find it's entry. Thinking back to our search I remember finding the chest, but then setting it aside. Suddenly I thought about making a note to enter it and denoting it's presentation ot the Captain. I wholefully forgot.

I set the lantern on one of the many crates and popped the makeshift locked off with the butt of an axe handle. Opening the crate again I found the two pistols lying on a sheet of rich velvet. The handle was carved from a single piece of mahogany. The silver trigger and it's guard were clasped to the handle wit intricate metal work, all the while encrusted with a few stones that reflected the light from the lantern. Closer observation showed some of the stones missing from one, and part of the other handle scratched. I layed the one pistol on the crate and reached for the other. The doglock had become pinched in the velvet and upon removal, the tarred chest fell to the floor with a hollow thud. Strange noise from a solid chest I thought. I rapped on the bottom of the chest to hear the hollow within. Pounding on the inside of a corner of the chest, I find a false drawer under the main compartment.

Removing the chest bottom, I find a large piece of silk wrapped around a large object. I pull the whole thing from the chest and unwrap the silk.

"For fek's sake," I stammered to myself.

[William Brand]

William remained in the ward room for some time, reviewing the lists of Dutch and English property aboard the two prizes. There was a significant number of personal items ranging from coin to effects. Clothing, bibles, hammocks, work knives and the like were piled below in the 'Dog waiting to be counted and cataloged, along with many unsorted crates and barrels of food stuffs, trade goods and weapons. William had a moment to wonder how the spoils would be divided. Some of it might go to the French and Spanish as part of the prize, and perhaps this was best. The men and women would want coin once ashore and coin they would have. Perhaps the crew could even be persuaded to give up some of their gain to fund those new recruits ashore. William though he might give up one of his own shares, that he might buy the loyalty of those all too recent enemies which had signed the articles.

William took out the egg and the watch therein. He examined it carefully and polished it while he puzzled over the many duties he must attend to at Martinique.

First, he would have to navigate the policies and politics of Fort Royal. He was a privateer, and even his marques would not be enough to find him favor with everyone there. Some would look upon him as little more than a mercenary, but since this is what he was by definition, then some added care might not be out of the question. He might have to keep back some of the Ilex fortune against futures bribes and favors.

Second, he had to be certain that his crew did not invite retributions while ashore. Fortunately, Mister Pew would have dominion among the marines and William might not need to trouble himself on matters of shore leave.

The Maastricht would be sold a prize, probably to the Navy, but the Heron was another matter. The more that William thought on the matter, the more he wished to keep her. She would make a fine companion to the 'Dog, and few if any might trouble them, even in dangerous waters. A cutter and a frigate could capture prizes a plenty and the 'Dog might not need to fight her battles alone.

William put the watch away.

[Dorian Lasseter]

While Johnson and his mates were busy with the cannon, The men of the Larboard Watch made themselves busy, but their curiosity was such that each in turn had some reason or another to head aft and have a look at what the captain had posted on the hatch, but none asked when these items were to be accomplished. Only Smyth, Flint and young Godfrey had not seen the list, Smyth because he was in the lookout’s post, Flint because he was doing his soldierly duty, and Godfrey because he had been tending the sandglass. Even Brisbane had seen the list, he had gone to the head with permission of the captain and gave it a once over on his return. There was no hurry to complete the tasks on the list, so Dorian was not unhappy that none had taken them up just yet. They were still days away from Port Royal, and they had only been sailing along for just over half a day. Tedium would set in soon enough, and those on the Starboard Watch had not seen the list. As Dorian was contemplating this he had run his eyes about the ship. It was something he did often, very much second nature. Something he and many others did automatically on a regular basis. All was as it should be and he turned his attention aft to the ships in his wake. He realized they were running a course as three ships in a line of battle, almost perfectly following the wake of that in front. For whatever reason this bothered him. They had taken this tac as soon as was favourable, when the Frigate and Fluyt has separated. He felt that he should have the Heron making a zig-zag across the sea in front of the flotilla, watching for any other shipping. Maybe he just wanted to allow the girl to spread her wings and sail as she was meant to. He thought on it for a time as he stared back at the Maastricht and Watch Dog in his wake. His thoughts were interrupted by Nigel, who was clearing his throat, trying to get Dorian’s attention. He turned to Mr. Brisbane who slightly tilted his head to towards the man standing in the waist looking aft. Dorian walked the three paces forward and addressed the fellow.

“Mister Coipman… What is it?”

“Capitain Lasseter… Sir… Casteel an’ I vould like to begin vork on de boat… what you have on de list dere…”

Dorian smiled slightly.

“Very goode… you may gather what supplies we have below and when that is done I will have Mister Brisbane assist you in bringing it amidships to do the work.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

The Captain nodded and off went the man, gathered up his mate and headed below.

“Nigel, I’m sure ya heard what I said… I’ll take th’ helm at that time, ‘r mayhaps see if Young Patrick might give it a turn…”

Of course Mr. Godfrey heard the comment and jumped at the chance to steer the ship.

“I can do it Mister Lass… I, I mean Captain Lasseter, Sir!”

Dorian began to chuckle.

“Aye Lad, I know ya can… An’ I’m glad yer of a mind ta do so… Nigel, Patrick will relieve ya now, give ya more time ta rig up th’ boat…”

Nigel gave a crooked grin and knuckled his forelock and motioned the young man back. Patrick had to stop himself from actually leaping to the tiller, instead he walked as slowly as he could manage, which ended up being a fast walk. Mr. Brisbane spoke to him in low tones placing his hands on the newly fashioned lever telling him all that he could to prepare the boy about to man the helm. With a nod from Patrick, Nigel let go…

[Alder]

As the men of the Larboard Watch toiled, Alder regained a sense of calm lost in the conflict and subsequent reassignment. The gentle sway of the hammock gave rise to fond memories having set task and soul to a restorative idle in just such a sling at the rim of the dock yard.

Alder inhaled deeply the fragrant salt air as he stroked the worn handle of a hammer that lay against his chest. It rose and gradually fell with each breath as they became more tranquil. His casual embrace mirrored the solace of one that strokes a cross or pendant rich with private significance. Captain Lasseter had requested this tool of him and he willingly obliged, though none but he and his grandfather before him had ever held the instrument. Even so, Alder would not have considered refusing such a request, nor expect others to appreciate his sentiment. This hammer; as much of his other gear, bore the worn groves of his ancestors grip and time had fashioned his imprint as well.

“Neither a borrower nor a lender be” his grandfathers words had echoed “Be far from yer tools and ye may find yerself farther still from yer next meal.”

It was at that moment Alder realized he hadn’t even stopped his quest for the next task aboard the Heron to seek the post his nail had made fast. As he leaned deep into the last remnants of relaxation, he realized it would take no small amount of effort to refashion his days from those of quiet resignation to do all that needed done with little support or guidance and less appreciation, to one of deliberate and mindful leadership. Alder welcomed the later.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The Heron sailed along with Mr. Godfrey at the tiller, a very large toothy grin plastered on his face. Captain Lasseter smiled at the young man and a memory of his youth came back to him. His first time at the tiller of a ship was given to him by a kind captain of a merchant he was crewed on as a boy. He remembered having his heart in his throat, the vibration of excitement pulsing through him. He also remembered that the weather was not so pleasant as this, as they were in the Irish sea at the time. He reminisced for a while, letting the lad enjoy an easy time while Nigel began rigging some tackle to sway the ship’s boat about. Dorian brought his mind to focus back on the present and stepped foreward to the sandglass. The sand was almost out, so he waited until it dropped its last grains to the lower chamber. Turning the glass over with one hand, he reached over and began tolling the bells, six times. Six bells of the Afternoon watch was the time. He decided to make the helmsman’s job a touch more exciting.

“Mister Godfrey, change course two points ta Larb’d if ya please…”

The young man’s face went to ash for a moment, but only just. Then the smile returned.

“Two points t’ lar’d, Aye!”

He quickly moved the tiller to starboard and was nearly whipped off of it as the ocean fought back, trying to keep the rudder straight. Patrick’s smile faded again as he grabbed hold of the wooden arm and put his weight into the work, this time slowly forcing it to obey his command. He eased it back to neutral when the compass had swung around to the new heading. The captain nodded slowly.

“Very goode Mister Godfrey…”

“Thank you, Cap’n…”

He said it rather quietly, compared to when he first was given the order to change course, a lesson learned through experience, and one he would not soon forget. Dorian turned away and let out a gentle sigh, bringing his glass out and to his eye to give a slow look at what might be on the horizon…

24 July, 1704

Six Bells of the Afternoon Watch

The Heron

~Larboard Watch on Duty~

[Silkie McDonough]

The seventh bell rang above, Murin lay in a hammock swaying as the'Dog moved over the water. She was sent from the surgery to the berth for rest after so many had been wounded and the space was needed in the surgery. She had gone to the surgery after her watch had ended once the schedule of watches had been renewed. Chanalt tended to her relatively minor wounds. The slice on her side barely grazed the skin but the shirt was slit and blood stained now. The surgeons mate cleaned and dressed it then continued his inspection of her bruises, cuts and scrapes. Her shoulder had taken a blow that left a bright blue and red bruise. He tended to her hand last. Blood had dried on the now ragged dressing. He un-wrapped it with care. The look of displeasure on his face was not hidden from the girl. She had reopened the wound on her palm, blood crusted around it once again. After a through cleansing an angry red rimming the opening was revealed. “You will ave a skarr an you may not regain full use or strength in z-and.” She had no reaction except acceptance. She knew she was disobeying the doctors wishes while in battle and the cleanup after wards but she could not disobey those orders given by the Captain and Quartermaster, she went with those on her watch to board the enemy vessel, defend herself and her crew, to subdue any she could so that they may choose to be prisoners or sail the vessel in newly offered freedom. Additionally she could not have sat in the surgery with the severely wounded while she could help to right things on the ’Dog. "You MUST keep it clean. You are to use it seldom. I know you are to mend sails but you will be of no use if you do not heal properly. Return to me again tomorrow so that I may be sure you are complying with my orders"

She closed her eyes again and saw the Heron, light and swift dancing o'r the waves. This ship spoke to her. Murin longed to ride the waves on her deck but would, for now, be contented where she was. Life may yet settle into a routine for her here yet. Billy Flint had been moved to the Heron but Nathan Bly remained on the'Dog. And she found an unlikely friend in the tall Patrick Hand. His warm smile and easy conversation had helped her pass some of their recent off time. He possessed the knowledge she lacked and was eager to share it. Her first lession in the tying of several less common knots was full of laughter.