The Watch Dog

[William Brand]

William turned to Treasure and asked her to remain with the jollywatt and longboat. She was to keep guard over them until some marine of the Starboard Watch could relieve her position there ashore at the noon hour. Then he turned again to the newly acquainted woman, and said. "Lead on, Miss O'Treasaigh."

They went slowly at first, wending their way through the crowds. As the numbers of people dwindled, they reached one of many rising streets which led up into the towns surrounding Fort Royal. They passed houses and shops mingled together in a fashion that was common to those of Europe, but with an island quality that made the architecture unique. They kept to the side of the streets that were out of the sun, for the shade was welcome, passing a few modest fountains along the way.

William and Alan made small conversation with their new acquaintance, with William asking but one real question as they went. "How did you come to be in Martinique, Miss O'Treasaigh?"

[Pew]

"Captain Lasseter, meet Jean Doublet and Luc Otkupschikov. Both men 'ave 'elped us 'n our search for Tawny." I offered, ignoring the Captain's last remark.

The men put their hands out and offered hellos. The Captain returned a handshake and a tip of his cap.

"Both 're fit for duty aboard our flotilla Captain." I continued.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Captain Lasseter’s brow lifted at Mister PEW’s comment about the two men being ‘fit for duty aboard our flotilla’, but decided not to comment on it just yet.

“Aye, very well… very kind o’ ye ta help in ‘r search fer Tawny…”

He winced slightly as he spat the name out, remembering the mischief the devil had caused.

“Well then…. Where were you lads off to? I had planned on gathering more supplies… however, I feel the need ta check on what all I a’ready purchased, make sure it got delivered to th’ ships… “

Nods were returned to the question and statements made.

“Right then… we’re off…”

The Captain turned and headed down the street towards where the water met the land under the protective gaze of the Royal Fortress. Along the way they still made their way into several small shops in the market district, slowing their progress to the wharf.

[Maeve O'Treasaigh]

"What brought me here", she repeated. "Ma Father did. He's a proper chirurgeon, left far the America's to make a better livin', an' we eventually ended up here", she said simply.

Captain Brand looked as though he expected more of a story than this. He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment as a short silence fell in the conversation. Alan picked up the conversation again right away and Maeve answered little questions about the town, and offered gossip and advice in regards to certain shops and their owners.

She pointed out a small storefront selling wine and informed them that the owner had a disreputable practice of selling his "fair" product at double the price to sailors and non-residents. Just then, a tiny but fiesty looking little redhead wandered out of that particular store, looking about. Her countenance immediately brightened as her attention fell on them. Maeve was surprised that this little woman, surprisingly armed, suddenly looked as though she recognized them. The petite figure snapped to attention and knuckled her brow. "Captain Brand sah!", she called out in happy surprise.

[William Brand]

'Fortuitous', William thought, but simply returned the greeting in a like fashion, nodding as he replied, "Miss Smith."

"Captain Lasseter and Mister Pew are within, Sah. Shall I fetch them?"

William shook his head, smiling and pleased to hear that Dorian was up and about and already engaged in a second day's purchases. He stepped towards the shop, but stopped, and gesturing to the lady chirurgeon he said, "Miss Smith, allow me to introduce Miss O'Treasaigh. Miss O'treasaigh. Miss Tudor Smith, our ship's Steward."

[Maeve O'Treasaigh]

"Indeed?", she said in surprise, forgetting the typical politeness required immediately after such an introduction. "The captain's steward ya are? How amazing", she said with a soft smile of bemusement. "Pleased ta meet ya Miss Maeve", the steward said. Maeve made the appropriate response, thinking what a headstrong lass she must be, and turned to look at the Captain. "You have some very forward thinkin' ideas Mr. Brand. Just how menny women do ya have aboard that ship of yers? I couldn't help but notice the weh ya addressed the lovely dark haired lass on the docks". Maeve looked at the captain, wondering in that moment if he were possibly a lecher or if he was indeed open minded. Further, she wondered in any case what made the two women who served aboard his ship want to actually stay.

[Black Syren]

Treasure tugged her forleock as Captain William stepped away with Ms. Treasaigh and looked about but none were near so she went back trying to learn the boys French in frustration and yet much to his delight. She wrinkled her nose as she butchered another phrase and muttered a curse causing the boys eyes to round, fill with mirth and then he laughed. She was unsure if she should be offended as he laughed at her attempts but could not contain her own mirth. Soon her husky laughter rang out causing many heads to turn in their direction, this young boy so reminded her of her little brother. He was keen of wit and his eyes were sharp for though he remained focused upon her or so it seemed he was very aware of the others about them. An older boy clearly of the docks as was the one she conversed with swaggered up to her and clearly he sought to impress her by speaking in French and making roguish eyes upon her. While she was amused it was clear that the other was not and was clearly getting angry she sought to diffuse the budding situation by waving the older lad away.

Although he grew angered at being sent away the younger was quite smug and she shook her head at his antics. “Trouble. Ye are trouble. What be yer name?” Then realizing he did not understand she pointed to her chest drawing his eyes and then quickly brought her hand to her face instead. The boys eyes following reluctantly “Treasure. My name is Treasure.” She spoke slowly and saw the lads face light up with understanding and he puffed out his thin chest and pointed at it saying “Jacques!” then again did he bound off in rapid French and she rubbed at her temples before slowly holding up one hand. “Too fast Jacques.” At the mention of his name again did he seem pleased, mayhaps over pleased.

She drew her attention from him and took a deep steadying breath of sea air and looked up as a carriage drawn by a team of perfectly matched gray andalusians swept passed. She knew well the breed, had had one of her own. He had been expensively imported from Spain. Her gaze was again drawn as the boy moved into her line of vision and spoke quietly but earnestly. She frowned realizing he was telling her something of import but she could not understand what. Slowly to not draw attention she moved her gaze about and saw the small band of men leering at her. Jacques clearly trying to protect her as he placed his thin frame before hers and she narrowed her gaze upon the group and tossed her head.

Most men and these included once confronted boldly backed down. Afterall it was broad daylight and she was armed. She smiled and patted her dagger and they quickly moved off, but she knew she would have to be more wary. These were not her shipmates and she had no wish to meet up with another Tawny. She glanced back to Jacques and favored him with a smile and watched his face light up. Again speaking rapidly she was overwhelmed and she shook her head with another laugh. It was apparent she had made a conquest but she had no wish to injure his feelings, he was young no more than 13 or 14 if she made a guess. Perhaps William could find a place for the lad onboard, it was clear he was hungry, though with his dark hair and dark eyes he would be very handsome when filled out. And he looked so much like Anthony, she would talk to William and see.

Again did her gaze scan those milling about and she saw two of the men standing in the shadows of a dark corner and made as if she were not aware of them. Apparently two of them did not care it was daylight. She rolled her shoulders and turned her attention back to Jacques and knew he to had seen the men though they continued to converse as if they had not.

[William Brand]

William commented on this last question as casually as a he would have about a turn in the weather. "We have almost eighty crew members between the whole company and we number some eight ladies among that count. A veritable tithe of women."

This phrase brought a smile to Tudor's face and she nodded, adding, "Indeed, Cap'n."

William placed a hand on his Steward's shoulder and looking at Maeve declared, "Our very own Miss Smith here, unaware of her place in the world, did strike the enemy colors aboard the Dutch fluyt Maastricht only a few days ago. she scattered her enemies in the progress and earned the accolades of a grateful crew, myself among them."

Tudor snorted at the remark about her 'place in the world', recognizing what light William made of what she considered a most antiquated notion, and she raised her chin at the pronouncement of her recent bravery. The world might think what it may, but young Miss Smith, a foot below her enemies, had surpassed them in stature in a boarding to shake the bravest man.

"You might be surprised to learn that we number a woman chirurgeon among our company who is as skilled a surgeon as I have met, and being who I and what I am...I have seen many."

[Maeve O'Treasaigh]

Maeve was quiet a long spell, clearly surprised. She looked at the petite figure in front her. 'Headstrong indeed', she thought, 'and more foolhardy than I'. "You must be an amazing woman who's done amazing things to earn such praises", Maeve said. "Shorely ya've arned the keep of those weapons yer wearin'. Tis a good thing Capt. Lasseter has ya back in his company ta defend him against rogues", she said, laughing lightly. Tudor smiled.

She once again turned her address to Capt. Brand. "Yer very compliment'ry of yer crew. And eight women ya say? Indeed I find that most surprisin', especially that a woman chirurgeon is numbered among them. 'Tis a hard thing ta be a woman with a man's job an' be tekken seriously. If yer chirurgeon should get the urge, 'twould be very nice to meet another woman in ma profession. Mebbe she'd like ta come by ma shop if she finds the time".

Maeve delicately dobbed her sweat beaded brow with a kerchief she produced from her waistband. "Mr. Brand, yer truly a remarkably forward thinkin' man. Yer crew must be quiet loyal to allow so menny women aboard without problems, and the women more remarkable still fer choosin' such a life." Her eyes flickered to the wine shop where Mr. Lasseter and 5 other men were just coming out of the door, and she noted that the shorter, surly looking one had purchased a bottle of overly priced wine.

[William Brand]

July 29, 1704 - At Martinique

William could not answer any of Maeve's comments or observations before Captain Lasseter, the search party and two strangers made their way into the sunlight. Pew and Claude were squinting hard into the outside light, while Bill Flint looked untouched by it. All three of them passed a quick 'Sah' his way and William and Dorian exchanged the courtesy of title, calling one another 'Captain'. The remaining two said nothing, but for a nod from Jean Doublet.

Maeve realized that judgments of height were somewhat erroneous in the face of the two giants of the company. The two men had stooped coming out the door, and they cast a shadow large enough to almost stand in.

The 'surly' looking one proved to be the Watch Dog's Master-at-Arms, whose countenance was based on the previous nights revelry and the morning's sharp light. He looked as though daylight did not agree with him at the moment, but he was still pleasant enough to introduce Jean Doublet and Luc Otkupschikov.

Pleasantries and introductions were exchanged all around, with William taking extra care to ask after Dorian's health. Captain Lasseter, never long for any injury, and not one to seek after public sympathy in any form, passed over his own injury as if it were no more than a scraped knee. He did however thank Maeve for seeing him to the inn at such an unreasonable hour and assured her that he was well enough to walk the streets at least as far as the docks.

. . .

Back at the docks, Robert Thatcher and Patrick Hand arrived in the company of four of the new Dutchmen, Reind Halster, Loures Loerwairt, Klaas Scymmelpenninck and Andries Smit. All of them were anxious not to be numbered among the last to report back to the 'Dog, despite a very welcome shore leave. They were laughing as they came down the docks, with much translation passing back and forth among them, and poor translation it was. They seemed to be laughing as much about one another as any other topic when they reached the docks and found Miss Tribbiani there guarding the boats.

Six bells of the forenoon Watch

~Larboard Watches on Duty~

[Black Syren]

She could feel the eyes of the two men crawling over her and refrained from shivering as she continued to try and converse with Jacques, however much merriment to her left had her looking in that direction and smiling at Robert and Patrick as they neared. She also took not of the four new dutch hands and as she noted their stares tempered her smile to steel.

“Robert be ye interested in taking over at noon? I have something that needs doing, oh and this be Jacques, do not speak a lick of the king’s English but he’s a right sort and kept me company when some blokes lingered about.”

Robert smiled noting the boys infaturation and grinned at Siren but as she continued to speak his smile turned to a hard frown “Aye Ill take yer place, whar be the blokes?” Patrick too now seemed to be more aggressive than jovial and the four Dutchmen as well as Jacques caught the sudden tension. Jacques seemed to catch on quickly and rapidly spoke his black eyes gleaming as he jerked his head to the shadows where the two men yet remained.

Patrick made as if to head that way and Siren took his arm shaking her head “They did not come forth and I doubt they will. And we do not need trouble, Eh?” Patrick wanted to disagree with her but Robert sent him a subtle nod of his head and Patrick relented.

Siren soon laughed as Jacques spoke in rapid French and with the Dutchman as well as Patrick, Robert and herself there was much more laughter and frivolity as they tried to figure what each was saying. Soon the two men was forgot by Siren, but not by Patrick nor Robert.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Miss Ashcombe tried not to react the the amount of coin Murin appeared to posess. This ..girl about her own age, who dressed as if she hadn't a penny, chose fine ladies clothing, and was able to pay from a purse that looked heavier than the goodly amount of silver Jenny could see. Even with a more than casual glance. Intrigued..she grasped an opportunity in the small amount of conversation they had inbetween sizes and colors and such.

The two stepped into the sunlit avenue. "The Chateau Anse is just this way" Jenny said as she made good on her offer to show Murin to a better Inn. One without uninvited guests.

[Silkie McDonough]

Jenny led the way to the inn as promised. The short trek was filled with questions of the Watch Dog and Murins work aboard. Murin hated to tell half truths and untruths to the woman who was showing her such kindness but she knew so little of the young woman. Besides, it was unlikely that The Watch Dog would be returning to Martinique for some time after this. Time long enough for any misinterpretation to be forgotten if not Murin herself. The Watch Dog is a merchant vessel, she just doesn't transport merchandise. Murin was hired the last time the ‘Dog had made land fall. Did it really matter that she hadn't mentioned that was on the dessert island of LaBanquilla and not Margarita? She had sailing experience, though not as a sailor and knew how to wield a needle and thread well so the title of ‘tailor/sail maker’ wasn't unreasonable. She had only extended the length of time on board the ‘Dog by a few days and Captain Brand is a good man, a man of his word. For it was he who employed her in a position she could not immediately undertake. Captain Brand had made her wealthy beyond any hope in Ballycastle. This information she kept to herself. Murin was grateful for the help provided by Genevieve, she remember the manners she had learned from Kate Hodge and made sure that she treated Jenny in kind, with respect.

Miss McDonough marveled at how kind this woman of obvious wealth had been treating her. Dressed as she was it was clear that Murin was of a lower class. Surely after uttering her first words this assessment was surely confirmed, yet, even before Jenny had seen the weight of Murin's purse she treated her as equal. She had seen similar behavior in Kate and Ana, both high born ladies. Perhaps Jenny was cut from the same cloth.

[Alder]

Easing into the motion of the day, Alder followed the procession of his compatriots onto the labyrinth of streets and shops of Cul du Sac Royal. Migrating between commerce and canteen, he saw every manner and station of humanity pour from shops and writhe from taverns. While his companions ferreted out all manner of good, Alder found himself transfixed by the carvings of shop signs, the detail in the architecture, and the surrounding vegetation. A latent botanist, he made quick sketches in a small leather bound book retrieved from the back of his slops. Alder snared a morsel of leaf now n again to press between the pages, making careful note as to height, girth and spread of the canopy knowing each union of branch and trunk bore silent testimony to the tensile strength of the grain and thus consecrated its usefulness.

How his existence paled to insignificance beneath the canopy of the Goliath poised above him. The aerial roots of the majestic tree latched a stronghold in the earth in every manner possible lest it be cast adrift by hurricane winds or surge. All manner of flora was either cultivated or sequestered in opportunistic niches between shop and street. Plants the likes of which that he had experiences in text alone. Alder rubbed the cardboard textured leaves of a palm-like growth collecting a vivid orange seed from its crown. A cycad! The delighted grin of his satisfaction soon waned having no one with which to share his discovery. At his feet tiny whorls of white flowers of heliotrope that turn with the passing of the sun reminded Alder his time on the island paradise was swiftly drawing to a close.

As he made his trek toward the docks, he glanced up to see a familiar face as she examined the finery within a quaint little haberdashery. Longing to offer some token he eased forward, but light of coin, a withdrawl to await another opportunity to surface. With a roguish smirk, fronds from a nearby palm were tucked away for safekeeping.

Leaving the vision, Alder picked up his pace as he wondered what had become of the unfinished tasks yet left on the quartergalley as well as what provisions would be made to return the damaged foremast to its former glory. He had been impressed, even a bit anxious to shadow Rummy as she plied the trade with adept skill that he not only admired but also desired to emulate. Alder caught himself as once again, women aboard transfixed his focus in one manner or another. It was unseemly! He shook off the notion and eyed the masses for the host of the starboard watch as he merged toward the reunion with his work and his newfound home.

[Pew]

While the crew gathered about and went their separate ways only to return to the streets again, my nose caught the scent of an early lunch. Claude and Luc caught the same. A nearby inn had just opened it's windows to the kitchen. Smells of fresh Shepherd's Pie wafted through the crowd. An offer to join us for lunch to the crew, was met with some nods. The search party had not eaten since yesterday afternoon and was quite hungry. A nudge and a wink led us away to the small ordinary on Martinique's main avenue.

As the crew headed for the door, I caught the Captain Brand's elbow briefly.

"I b'lieve we may 'ave two men t' sign wit' the Dog sah." I whispered and noded in the direction of Jean and Luc.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Miss Ashcombe walked through the dusty streets, past assorted children and all class of townfolk, dodging a chicken or dog here and there in the bustle of late morning in a port town. As she led Murin to a more respectable Inn, she assaulted the poor lass with a littany of questions. Genevieve felt a bit guilty, for it was hot and Murin was doing her best to answer each one. Seeming to pause and carefully construct each answer. She wondered at this..was the girl hiding something? But then Genevieve had more than one asked her to repeat herself as she tried to adjust her ears to the female sailor's thick accent.

The more Murin spoke the more fascinated she became. Though she tried to hide her excitiment as the words filled her imagination with visions of life at sea. Distant ports, a respected and apparently benevolent Captain and more women on a ship than she'd ever heard of except as passengers. Her thoughts returned to her own crossing some 20 years ago. The smell of pitch and the salt air. She allowed herself to wonder just for a moment..if she could be as brave as the youger girl who walked along with her ..seeming older for her years. Her very demeanor though shy at times, colored by the experiences Genevieve could only imagine.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The group of men from the consort ships, WatchDog and Heron, made their way into the Inn where the aroma of hearty food emanated. Although Dorian had had a hearty meal just hours ago, the wonderful smell prompted his stomache to grumble slightly. As they entered the establishment he looked about. It was a fine place, the floors were clean and the paint appeared fresh. Either the Inn was newly opened or newly remodeled. Either way, it was a welcome place in which to gather. The common room was relatively empty until they filled the space. Drinks were ordered all around, Dorian having a small beer for the time, while others ordered heavier spirits. Once their drinks were served and meal orders were taken to the kitchen, a toast was proclaimed by the Master-at-Arms. Dorian did not hear it in it’s entirety, but he knew it had something to do with his injury and a comical bend as most everyone laughed before bellowing a hearty ‘Aye!’ and downing a good portion of their drinks. Those newly acquainted to the sailors merely smiled and sipped their drinks out of respect. Captain Lasseter sat back and enjoyed the small take and banter that made its way around the group, but it was toned down some as the men had an unknown lady in their midst, a Surgeon to be exact. His eyes wandered about the room and its inhabitants, finally he settled on watching the door, seeing who might enter or exit the place, keeping his wits keen and trying to ignore the dull ache in his temple.

[William Brand]

July 29, 1704 - At Martinique

Seven bells of the Forenoon Watch

The meal was welcomed by all, but William found more comfort in the company. His mood had improved ever since landing ashore to find that the search party was well and that Dorian had survived his own brush with danger. Even his concern that Tawny might still be abroad was overshadowed by the introduction of possible recruits, so he let the conversation go where it may.

~Larboard Watches on Duty~

[Pew]

Eric Franklin

Eric stood on holy ground surveying the deck. He pulled a spyglass and peered through it to see the goings on on shore. Siren appeared to be fending off the advances of a few young men.

"What do they know," he smiled to himself. He continued down the dock and could see Patrick and Robert arriving with some of the new Dutch sailors as well.

"Ah well," he sighed to himself. He turned and saw Mister Gage was just completing the inventory of his spices and had disappeared below decks once again. Jean Dorleac had a small bucket in his hand and was heading aft.

"Mister Dorleac?" Eric asked the young boy startling him.

"Aye sah?" Jean stood ramrod straight.

"We'll be needin' to get these supplies b'low and make sure they get logged." Jean nodded and Eric continued. "Since Mister Gage is busy in th' galley, c'n you make sure th' everything 's stowed properly. I c'n write 't in th' log, but need you to supervise. Pascal and Cobus c'n help, maybe find Willem and Drewes t' lend a 'and."

The newly acquired position had Jean quite excited. "Aye, sah!"

"Theeeeen," Eric drew out the word purposely, "c'n you take the load o' arms Luigi and I sorted to the Heron for proper outfitting?"

"Myself, sah?," the young boy questioned.

"Aye lad," Eric continued, "or is 't above ye?"

"Oh no, sah," Jean stammered, "I've never, well, actually taken a boat myself self."

"Ah." Eric put his hand to his chin. He could see the men standing around were now smiling to see the excitement on the powder monkeys face.

"I can help Jean, Mister Franklin," Pascal spoke up.

"Aye, sah. Me too." Jacobus Casteel agreed.

"Very well lad, you have your own crew 's well. Mister Ciaran 'll keep an eye for rogues and pirates on your voyage." Eric clasped his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Off you go now."

Jean turned and called his "crew" to attention. Each of the men standing tried to stifle their laughter as Jean spat out their orders.

Eric folded his arms and smiled.

[William Brand]

July 27, 1704 - At Martinique

Just after seven bells of the Forenoon Watch

With the seventh bell come and gone, many a sailor could be seen hurrying back to the docks. The longboat was rapidly filling with members of the Starboard Watch intent on getting back to the 'Dog by noon. Already, most of the Heron crew was lined up and seated in the St. Kitt, with only Callie Moore and Christopher Tucker unaccounted for.

William noted several sailors flying by the door of the Inn, as did Captain Lasseter. William ordered everyone under his immediate charge up from the table and invited the rest to join him in witnessing the mad sprints of the stragglers. They poured out of the inn into the daylight, taking some bottles with them as the went and tipping the innkeeper handsomely.

Maeve O'Treasaigh parted company with them amidst several compliments from both Captains and a mix of varied farewells. She turned off onto a street which would bring her to her shop again.

The rest continued down the main avenue towards the docks. As they made their way down to shore, several sailors passed the Captains and search party at a sprint. Each of them made a point to acknowledge their respective Captain, and sometimes both.

Alder Wenge proceeded them by some 200 yards, walking along the sides of the street in the apparent act of examining the trees. William had a moment to wonder if the carpenter's shore leave had been entirely encompassed with an inspection of materials.

Mister Warren passed their small group in a wagon which carried Nathan Bly, Paul Mooney, Sealegs Constance, and Geoffery Wayne. They all saluted in their fashion as they approached and passed. Jim Warren had news for Captain Brand, so he asked the driver to stop in very respectable French, but the driver ignored him altogether, so he shrugged and said, "Sorry, Cap'n Brand. Cap'n Lsseter. Mister Youngblood sends his respects. He has taken Mister Tucker and Morrell, as well as Mister Monahan to carry out the business of selling the Apollo guns!" Jim Warren made as if to leap out of the wagon, but William shook his head.

"Very well, Mister Warren!" he yelled back, for the wagon was moving away down the lane. He looked at Dorian, and his fellow Captain only nodded, having expected this.

"Aye, Sah!" Mister Warren returned.

The wagon continued, as did the slow moving band of captains and marines. When William and the rest reached shore, they found the longboat gone across the water, and a brimming jollywatt preparing to shove off. Added to Mister Warren's company were Callie Moore, Tjaak Cuylemburch, and Lukas Stoir. Robert Thatcher was standing with musket slung over his shoulder alongside Miss Tribbiani and the new stray boy.

Misters Morgan, McGinty and Styles appeared from a narrow lane down the docks at a dead run. They did not look frightened into haste, but urgent nonetheless. They were laughing and trying not to laugh as they ran, anxious to reach the last of the boats before it departed. Jerrod Styles was running so badly that he got caught up in his own musket and sling and tripped head over heels, blooding his ear, lip and one knee. This did not lessen the laughter of the other two running ahead of him, and only Mister Morgan went back again to help him up. McGinty came up huffing and out of breath.

"hhheehhh...sa...hhh...Cap'n." he managed, then acknowledged a few of the rest by rank in a similar airless fashion before going down to the Heron's small boat. Mister Morgan brought along a limping Styles who was visited with some embarrassing looks from the party standing there.

Mister Pew just shook his head long and slow and muttered, "If you you've damaged that musket, Miiister Styles..."

"Sorry, sah..."

Pew just shook his head again.

"You can join him the boat, Mister Pew, if you've a mind to." William said, also shaking his head at the McGinty. "Mister Franklin will be coming ashore for his leave. We'll rest the search party for the time being and look for the rat later. You may all take your rest ashore or on the 'Dog and Heron, as you wish."

"Aye, Sah."

William looked at Luc and Jean. "Mister Doublet. Mister..."

"Otkupschikov." the Russian said slowly.

"Thank you. Mister Otkupschikov. You are both welcome aboard the 'Dog or Heron. You need not sign aboard at present unless you wish to. We shall be here perhaps a week. Perhaps more. You may sign aboard anytime before we leave."

They each thanked William in their own language, mindful to do so to Captain Lasseter as well, for neither of them seemed certain who they would be sailing under for the present.

Ate Triest came up to the group then, and no one had seen him approach in the crowds of the docks. The young seamen looked moody, and given the recent beating that was apparent in his countenance and clothing, he had a right to be. One eye was half closed with swelling and his lip was badly bruised. He leaned and favored his ribs on one side, but still managed to carry enough defiance with him as he walked that no one who looked at him could be sure he wasn't the victor of whatever calamity had befallen him.

"Mister Triest." William called, and Triest saluted back.

"How is it with you?" William asked.

Ate Triest tried and failed to explain in his limited English and he eventually fell back on his native language. Between the two languages it was plain that Triest had "Fed them their teeth" and he left it at that. He was rewarded with some appreciative and understanding nods and no one made further inquiries. He went down into the last of the small boats which waited for those still not returned from shore leave.

Still, with the arrival of Mister Triest, William couldn't be sure who was left ashore of the Starboard Watches, and with Alan Woodington about to go on leave, he called up John McGuinty out of the boat again to go with him on his many errands. He bid the shore party farewell for the present and admonished his fellow Captain not to fight alone the next time. A short conversation passed between both captains and William learned that Dorian was 'spent out' of all his coin. He lent Dorian his own purse.

"I'll have more than enough when I am done today." William insisted, patting the first of the three bags of specie to be sold ashore for shares, and with that, he went to turn good fortune of Ilex's misfortune.

~Larboard Watches on Duty

[Black Syren]

She had laughed and had really enjoyed herself with Patrick and Robert. Jacques and the other four men still chortling as she wiped tears of mirth. She watched as her crew slowly ambled up and made sure she had her seabag as the longboat was filled and soon in motion and the jollywatt filling just as Captain William and Captain Lasseter appeared with the rest of the crew.

She was dragged to the side by Patrick as she would not get trampled at the mad dash to the jollywatt and shot him a shy smile. A commotion drew her gaze and she turned to see Morgan, Mcginty and Styles running down the cobbled street and winced as Mr. Styles fell face first tripping over his musket strap. She heard Mr. Pew address him about his musket and looked to the others gathered and moving to take seats in the jollywatt.

Seeing Captain William she quietly caught his attention and slipped away from Patrick’s tall lean frame and motioned to Jacques. “He is young sir, no more than 14. He is also very alert and may have saved me a wee bit o’ trouble if’n ye catch my drift. I was hoping ye might make room for him. I understand if ye need to think about it, but the lad reminds me o’ my brother and I have a soft spot for him.” Blue green eyes were soft as she all but pleased her case to William who narrowed his gaze upon the boy. “We shall see Miss Tribbiani.” That said he moved off and she stood with Robert watching as the chaos still lingered.

Triest was pretty battered and she could only imagine what had led to his folly, she hid a grin at Pew for he seemed surly and perhaps a bit too much grog had made him so. At least Captain Lasseter was alive and well and she was glad for he had always been nice to her. She did not realize she was grinning till Robert made comment of it and she blushed every shade of red there was. When he laughed and went to tease her she shook her head “nay tis not what ye think. Tis a surprise.” Already she could not wait to pick up a few more items, rent a room and change into her gown.

Jacques seeing her smile soon moved to stand at her side and she shook her head at his antics earning her another wink from Robert and a chortle from Patrick which quickl turned to a cough as she swung narrowed eyes upon him.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Genevieve was immersed for a time in Murin McDonough's world. Barely noticing their direction as they walked from the Chateau Anse back towards the docks and the waiting ships. She was fascinated. It was as if a front of weather, new and different had sudddenly blown in from far off and with it brought many things. Whirling all around her, filling her lungs and pushing her along like the sudden squalls that could blow up along the rocky shore to the North.

She asked how many crew were aboard and what percentage of them women..of what age and social stature? How had they come to be crew on the Watch Dog? Gevenieve prodded cautiously on subjects such as the ship's livlihood, wondering if it had been engaged in battle or acts of piracy.. though this she did not ask directly. Choosing instead deliberatley oblique questions from which she could draw her own surmissions as she rode back to Isle De Generosite.

The girl she accompanied seemed surprised that she would have such interest and she did notice a wary expression pass over her at times. There was more to this lass than the shy woman in men's clothing she had encountered at first. Murin McDonough was kind, friendly but obviously, Miss Ashcombe thought, had more guile..and perhaps more secrets than her open, sun freckled countenance suggested.

[William Brand]

July 29, 1704 - At Martinigue

Murin was the last to arrive at the boat. She did not arrive at a hurried pace. She came casually down the lane in a way which belied the night and day she had enjoyed ashore. Free of cares or appointments. She came in the company of a local woman who bid her farewell in the crowd, but remained hard by as Murin was assisted down into the boat by a hand from Robert Thatcher.

Like Murin, everyone in the boat wore a smile, each of them for different reasons. Mister Morgan was smiling the wide grin of a man who has enjoyed a great deal in a short amount of time and he was still humming some lingering tune from the previous night. Styles bore a somewhat self deprecating smile as he blotted the last of the blood away from a skinned knee, grateful that his musket was undamaged from the fall. Ate wore the most interesting of all the smiles and seemed to be lost in thoughts of satisfaction demanded and paid for.

Murin smiled in the common and carefree way of an elevated woman. Thoughtful. Reflective. Content. She was still smiling this smile when the boat pulled away from the shore side docks. She traded waves with Jenny ashore.

[Black Syren]

As the last of her crew moved towards the WatchDog she hefted her seabag and moved quickly eager to find a nice tavern, bathe and change. Indeed she was so excited hse forgot all about Jacques who offended flushed red and quickly moved after her speaking in rapid French. He was apparently chastising her and pointing to the shadows where the two men had lingered and she arched a brow. At this the young lad hushed and flushed a deep red and she took pity on him gracing him with a smile.

Seeing the smile he calmed down nodded and moved at her side as they wove in and out of the busy narrow streets. Spotting a tavern dubbed the Noisy Goose she pointed at it mand began making her way over to it when Jacques grabbed her arm and pulled her down a small alley all the while rapidly speaking in French and looking at her as if she were three. Amused she allowed him to pull her through the alley, past a small fountain, down another alley and into a much quieter part of town. This was the oldest part of the city she assumed, the buildings careworn and yet still maintained their sense of pride. Shopkeepers were busy sweeping, hawking wares and several women passed by giggling over their purchases.

A flush of dismay swept over her as she kept her head lowered, her hair tangled and overlong, her clothing stained and tore in places. She had once been like those ladies, enjoying the life that her mothers money and position afforded her. Shaking loose of her memories she realized they had stopped and Jacques was speaking softly to her. Here was a smaller inn, not boisterous, no drunks. In fact a small petitely rounded woman was humming as she swept around the doorway and seeing them smiled and spoke in French. Jacques seeming to understand she was on shore leave was busy speaking to the woman who smiled, nodded once and let her gaze move over Treasure. Holding the womans gaze, she noted the slow smile that came and moved aside allowing them to enter.

Looking to Jacques and wondering what had been said she stepped within and was pleasantly surprised, the room though small was very neat, tables scrubbed clean, the smell of beeswax sweetly scenting the air. To the left a small flight of stairs led to the stories above and she prayed the woman spoke some English. Turning she saw the woman behind her ushering Jacques within and smiled. “Do you have a room available? And a bath, I would love a bath, and then Food.” She bit her lips as the woman tilted her head studying Treasure, a frown furrowing her brow before nodding once.

As the woman turned to move up the stairs, she saw Jacques take a seat and pointed at him ‘Stay!” then followed the woman up the stairs. The room given her again was small, the windows open allowing plain white curtains to flutter in the breeze. Dropping her bag she went to test the bed and found it comfortable if a tad noisy. Colorful rugs were thrown on the floor and a vase next to her bed housed flowers that were colorful and gave an inviting fragrance. The woman began to speak to someone down the hall and soon a tub was brought in reminding Treasure that she had not purchased her soap. The Lady seemed to sense something amiss and reluctantly Treasure mimed soap and the lady smiled and left.

Some time later as several buckets of hot and cold water made up her bath, clean towels nearby the woman again entered and pressed a small cake of jasmine scented soap into her hand. Then with a wink she left closing the door behind her. Moving the soap to her nose she inhaled deeply and grinning quickly pulled off her clothes and slid into the tub. It took some long moments to wash the long length of her hair and untangle it, her body relaxing in the hot water as she bathed. As the water cooled she rose, the water sluicing from her as she reached for a length of linen and began to dry off. A knock upon the door just as she reached for her seabag had her freezing, her hand inching for her blade, but a voice called from without and as she bid them enter saw a tiny maid who came in and began gesturing to the tub. Quickly was it emptied and taken below and she sat near the window combing through her hair and letting it dry to soft spirals about her head.

Once it was nearly dry she rose and moved to the mirror against the wall, dropped the linen and studied herself. Then moving back to her sea bag began taking out the contents sent to her and gasped with delight to see not one gown but 2. A corset, stockings and garters, shoes and even a small hat. Even hairpins had been added as well as chemise and petticoats. Which gown to wear? One was a pale gold, the other a rich teal. Taking the teal which was her favorite color for it reminded her of the sea she shook it out and gain approached the mirror and quickly swept up her hair securing it with the pins provided and dressed hastily, eager to explore. Settling the small hat atop her curls she grinned at herself in the mirror, blue green eyes brilliant against the deep black of her hair, the golden skin, and the teal gown.

Leaving her room she slowly ambled down the stairs adjusting to the new shoes and smiled as Jacques scrambled to his feet and tumbling his chair with a loud crash. His eye large as they roved her and she laughed and spun as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Magnifique!” Was the only word he uttered and the only word she understood. Laughing huskily she sat at the table and they dined on sweet pork and potatoes, and a rich red wine. She left enough money to more than cover her expenses and soon looped her arm through Jacques which he offered so gallantly and moved with him out into the bright sunlight of the day and they began to explore.

[Dorian Lasseter]

As the sailors from the Watch Dog and Heron left the shore to change watches, Dorian had humbly thanked William for the loaner of coin. He made a mental note to be sure to keep track of what he spent, and would replace every bit, regardless of what William said about having plenty more. As the crew finished arriving and filling the ship’s boats, he noticed Miss McDonough talking with another woman. As the Ships’ Tailor got into the boat the young woman she was with stayed on the wharf, watching as those at the sweeps pulled away from the dock. He’d seen that look before, but usually on those left behind when a ship was leaving port. He furrowed his brow, then shut his eyes as the action had caused a twinge of pain across his temple. Touching his head just below the wound, he reminded himself how new the injury was. Opening his eyes, he looked back and the woman was gone in the crowd. He continued to look but she was nowhere to be seen. He clicked his tongue and shrugged slightly, turning to other things at hand. He still needed to stock his private stores on the Heron, he had never had such rich things, or been able to do so, yet he knew from ships he served on what the captains had for their own pleasure. He needed to get some wine, Merlot for certain. Some other spirits as well, Cognac, Scotch and Irish Whiskey if it could be had, maybe some Brandy as well. Several different cheeses would be purchased along with seasons for the galley. He slowly began to head back into the town, looking for the finer shops to make his purchases. He stopped in front of a tailor’s shop and looked at the fine suit of clothes in the window and wondered if he should commission such for himself. He saw his reflection in the glass and realized a truth had been said, not long ago. He did not look like a captain, he did not dress like a captain. Slowly a determined smile crossed his face. He would remedy that presently. He raised his chin and slowly walked into the shop, prepared to pay for a fine suit of clothes.