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The Watch Dog


William Brand

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Le Chateau Anse Inn ~ Martinique

Mr. Satir closed his eyes and took a breath. The clerk at the Chateau Anse smoothed his hair which had been blown by a rainy gust, as the door of the tavern closed behind the man who had just purchased his silence. He prided himself on his ability to keep from his face his reactions to the various happenings about him. It was like a secret game and he relished it. Considering himself the keeper of many coveted facts and private dealings within the walls of his domain. He always felt a little excited when the potential for some new tidbit presented itself. "Come dear girl, Miss McDonough is out as of yet. You may wait here away from the stares of others" Satir ushered the sopping young lady into a back office and called for his staff to bring her any dry article and some linen towels. He handed her a brandy and she took it gratefully with trembling hands. Her thank you barely a whisper she drank deeply. Satir settled next to her hands folded politely on his lap, but the corner of his thin lips twitched slightly in the anticipation he tried so hard to hide. Jenny focused on her hands about the cup. The brandy warmed her and she began to come to her senses. She was already considering what to say to get rid of this man before he questioned her. Fainting might save the necessity of an answer but would only garner more attention. Just as Satir opened his mouth to sweetly ply what had befallen the lass, his lackey hurried in. "Sir! Sir!" the man stopped suddenly at the scene before him. Then regained his composure and addressed his superior. "Sir there has been a theft! You must come at once" The face of the Inn's chief clerk turned stony and he now made no attempt to hide his emotions save to smile at the pathetic object in his temporary care. With a brief apology he took his leave.

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Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help....

Her reputation was her livelihood.

I'm a pirate, love. By nature and by choice!

My inner voice sometimes has an accent!

My wont? A delicious rip in time...

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The Watch Dog

Luc had spent much of his time off of watch looking through what tools had been left by the former ship's carpenter. A skeleton crew was left aboard the Watch Dog, which gave Luc time to poke about the dark recesses of the Dog and give him to learn the ship on his own time. He ran into Simon Dunwalt more than once and they finally shared stories over a few tanakrds of large beer that had been brought on board from Jean's brother.

Luc asked about the former blacksmith and cooper, as he had found their locker and it's tools still sharp within.

"Former?", Simon questioned. Luc begged forgiveness should he have been too bold in rummaging through another crewmates things. Simon put his hand up shook his head as Luc continued to apologize. Simon smiled and said that he, in fact, had not seen Rummy or Jonathon for some time. They agreed to finish their mugs and go see the officer of the watch to inquire about the missing crew.

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"We are 21st Century people who play a game of dress-up and who spend a lot of time pissing and moaning about the rules of the game and whether other people are playing fair."

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Curiostiy killed the cat or so they say..but did not a cat have nine lives? The call from the Captain came and she slipped between her crewmates Argus at her heels till they could peer over the railing to take a quick peek at the new recruits. Argus barked from her side playing in the rain and she could hear someone strike a tune up on the harmonica.

A song she knew well soon had her foot tapping a rythym and she glanced up to catch a glimpse of the Heron Illuminated against the storm, the waves tossing the Heron to and fro as was the Dog. A glint of light to her left had her turning slightly to catch a figure at the rail of the Navarra and a spyglass again trained upon them. Tossing her wet braid she moved back to the music and the canvas, Argus content in the rain for the moment. As the song broke out among her male counterparts she grinned and resumed her seat in the coil of rope. As Alan grinned and nudged her she turned curious eyes his way and caught Ciaran grinning at her as well and a single brow was arched high.

“You can sing?” asked Alan who clearly looked as if to disbelieve such and she cast him a glare..”I can.” She replied succinctly. “Well then lass, you should sing with us.” Came the call from behind her and she swiveled but could make not make out who had called out the question. Sighing she rose and moved to the edge of the canvas and letting the music sweep over her for a few more moments lifted her voice to sweetly dance with the rich tenors and baritones. As the melody changed to a playful chanty her voice followed suit and soon they were all laughing and trying to keep up as the song became a round. Now it seemed that most had forgotten all about the rain till argus crept in and found space enough to shake his massive body sending droplets of water over all.

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If you got a dream chase it, cause a dream won't chase you back...(Cody Johnson Till you Can't)

 

 

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August 1, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

The recruits came aboard the 'Dog one by one under the downpour of rain and music. They all looked about at the ship which was to be their home and provender for the months and perhaps years to come. Many of them stared forward to the canvas strung out there.

"Miss Tribbiani." William explained, though she could not be seen from their vantage point. "Do not be fooled by the voice, Gentlemen. A larboard marine and as able a seaman as most, is our Miss Tribbiani."

William turned to Tudor, Alan and Manus who stood hard by and they each snapped off a salute. They looked a bit water-logged despite the oilskins about them, but they smiled ruefully.

"Report, Miss Smith."

"Sah. Th' rain has made any fine powder above decks of no use whatever. The marines have some muskets for thier use stowe..."

"That will do Miss Smith. Mister Woodington, see these men below and have Mister Gage fetch down some hot food while I divide from these men those that shall go over to the Heron."

"Aye, sah!"

"Mister Hingerty, see Mister Greene here to the Master Carpenter and have her acquaint him with the tools of the 'Dog. He's to have his things stowed there for the time being."

"Aye, sah!"

"Thank you, Mister Hingerty. Mister Greene, welcome aboard the 'Dog."

~Larboard Watches on Duty~

 

 

 

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The carpenter and the tailor walked as quickly as Miss McDonough’s injury would allow. Mister Wenge kept after her to let him take her to a chirgeon but she would not have it. “D’inn is nil far n’dars no need to trow goood munay away when nuttin ken bae donn.” Her thick barely audible over the wind. He could have easily lifted her and taken her where he wanted, her struggles would made it difficult but not impossible but his respect for the ladies wishes prevailed over his own misgivings about the injury. “Twill bae fine in d’mornin m’shur.”

“This is foolish!” Alder stopped in his tracks. Looking at the lass, he raised his voice above the storm, “Please. Allow me to carry you.” He implored. “The rain is coming down in torrents and you can not move quickly. We can cover the ground twice as fast on my two legs rather than on our four.” Murin shook her head from side to side, “Ulright, to the inn.” She said in emphatically, she was in his arms before she finished her sentence and they were indeed moving at markedly faster pace. Once at Le Chateau Anse Alder set Murin on her own two feet and opened the door. The two entered with a flash of lightning and a blast of wind that fought to keep the door open against all of Alders efforts.

The door secured the two stood for a moment dripping water and glad to be in out of the elements. Shaking off the water each shed their skins. Murin limped to the nearest table and took a seat as Alder hung the cloaks and hats on the provided pegs just inside the door. By the time Alder came to sit the head clerk was at Murin’s side. He spoke in hushed tones to Miss McDonough whose alarm was immediately apparent to Mister Wenge. They stood and followed the clerk to the passage beyond the common room.

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Jonah Greene stood on the deck of the Watch Dog, his eyes scanning and absorbing every detail of the ship's construction and ornament, or at least what could be gleaned considering the adversity of the weather. His attention was drawn to the decks and the planking, which he at first thought might be fir, but upon closer inspection, turned out to be larch, a fine building material. The ship had fine lines, was pleasing to the eye, and was well armed. Jonah was glad that his first impression and views of the ship matched what he had earlier imagined that she might look like. If this was to be his home, then it would be a fine one.

Jonah turned to Captain Brand. "Thank you, sah. She appears to be a fine vessel, indeed. I will do everything in my power to keep her in top order. Aye, Mr. Hingerty, let's go have a look at those tools. I'll need to know what I have to work with."

As Mr. Hingerty led him to the Master Carpenter, Jonah could hear the sound of music from elsewhere aboard the ship, and despite the chill in his bones from the rain, his heart warmed.

"Now then, me bullies! Would you rather do the gallows dance, and hang in chains 'til the crows pluck your eyes from your rotten skulls? Or would you feel the roll of a stout ship beneath your feet again?"

---Captain William Kidd---

(1945)

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August 1 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Manus Hingerty lead Jonah down through the companionway to a gathering crowd of new and old recruits. There was a considerable din as names and origins were shared among the throng. Luc and Simon were vying for the stairs as Manus came down with Jonah.

"Who has de deck?" Simon asked Manus. "And vere is de Carpenter?"

"VERE...?" Manus mimicked back.

Simon ignored this, for his accent was not overly thick, no matter what Manus might think of it. "Are these men from de prison?"

"Aye." Manus returned trying to make his way through the gathering at the base of the steps.

"New recruits den." Simon said, knowingly.

Manus stopped and sneered and managed a derisive little laugh, shaking his head at the Dutchman. "Listen ta him, eh mate? New recruits indeed. Why jus' the tother day this one were a recruit 'imself. Saved 'im and the lot. Twice, some of 'em. New recruit..." Manus shook his head again. "Taint fit enough fer two navies and comes a'courtin' on the 'Dog."

Mister Greene showed no signs of sharing Mister Hingerty's unnecessary derision of the Dutchman. In fact, he put out his hand. "Jonah Greene."

"Simon Dunwalt." Simon returned, shaking the hand at once. His name came out sounding like 'Done-Vault'. "Man of de 'Dog." he added, giving Manus a look that dared him to contradict him.

Luc threw out his hand as well.

 

 

 

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Eric heard the call to the Watch Dog over the din of the storm. The voice was familar, yet he knew it at once. He donned his oilskin and threw a set to Jean as well. The two men stepped from the ward room onto the Quarterdeck to see a throng of men spilling into the waist. Oddly, it seemed like a boarding party only without the muskets and fanfare.

Fanfare.

Eric could see women dressed out with parasols in their hands waving handkerchiefs about. He laughed. He laughed out loud. So much so, the Captain turned to his post on Holy ground. Eric stifled the laugh and stood straight as if to salute. Jean Doublet looked at the Sergeant-at-arms and found it strange how the man suddenly burst out in a fit of laughter, and then stopped in nearly the same moment.

"Odd lot this bunch," Jean thought to himself.

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"We are 21st Century people who play a game of dress-up and who spend a lot of time pissing and moaning about the rules of the game and whether other people are playing fair."

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Le Chateau Anse ~ Martinique

Jenny Ashcombe relished the small gift of solitude the inns' back office provided. It was little more than a windowless store room with a desk, bench and some meager well used supplies for daily keeping of the Inn's less important business. Still, it's lamp was bright and appeared to add some warmth against the chill of fatigue and hunger. She had finished all but a last sip of the brandy and sat bundled in a chemise and stockings. Over that she was wrapped in a wool blanket that had seen better years, though it was clean and mercifully dry. The clothing had been left by some previous patron and graciously, if apologetically gifted to her by a quiet young girl in the Inn's employ. Miss Ashcombe's hair was a mess of damp tangles and her eyes puffy from tears. She cared not. It was enough of a relief to know she hadn't missed the ships. That Murin McDonough was or would be coming and that she had recieved the small kindnesses one does from strangers or aquaintances when the force of mother nature or an enemy seemed to bind the glue of mankind a bit more tightly. Jenny stared into the amber liquid left in her cup and tried to organize her thoughts. What would she tell Murin? What could she afford to? She had befriended the Watch Dog's crew member, but still knew little about the two ships, their nature or the odd few crew or officers she had met. As she considered these things her shivering waning to occasional tremors, a commotion of rushing feet and hushed voices sounded in the outer hallway. Jenny stiffened and pulled the wool blanket about her, underneath which she clutched the small bundle she'd had slung under her wrap. Her hand found purchase and she held tightly to the smaller pouch within. The thickly accented voice of Miss McDonough caused her to ease her grasp as she appeared in the doorway with Mister Wenge in tow, their faces matched in concern.

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Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help....

Her reputation was her livelihood.

I'm a pirate, love. By nature and by choice!

My inner voice sometimes has an accent!

My wont? A delicious rip in time...

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"We are in good spirits this evening..." William said, raising an eyebrow to Mister Franklin.

"Aye, sah." Eric said at once, turning an additional laugh into a simple, affable smile. "Sorry, sah. May I ask...have you any word of Mister Pew?"

William shook his head as he watched the last of the recruits file down the companionway. He removed his hat long enough for the rain to run over his head. He slicked his hair back and replaced the tricorn. "The opportunity did not arise, Mister Franklin. I regret that was kept too busy with this business of recruits."

"Os des hommes." Jean said aloud to no one. No one asked him what this meant, but William nodded.

"Captain Lasseter was seen returning to the Heron a short time ago." Tudor said at William's elbow.

"Excellent." Willilam said looking towards the cutter. "Miss Smith, you have the deck. Mister Franklin, I would speak with you in the Ward Room."

"Aye, sah."

 

 

 

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Eric stood for a moment longer on the Quarterdeck while Captain Brand finished going over the brief orders for the new recruits. He followed the Captain into the Ward Room and remained stoic as the Captain removed his rain gear and set it aside. Eric clasped his hands behind his back and waited first for the Captain to speak.

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"We are 21st Century people who play a game of dress-up and who spend a lot of time pissing and moaning about the rules of the game and whether other people are playing fair."

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Murin was surprised to see the lass in such a state. “Jenny?” When Miss Ashcombe looked up, Miss McDonough gasped at the bruising on the woman’s face and the swelling in her eyes. “Jenny! Wot appened? Oo di'dis t'ya?!” Murin demanded as she rushed to her new friend. Her ankle nearly gave out on the last of the three steps between them; she caught herself against the table. When Alder placed a chair behind her she glanced at him in brief thanks then sat before Jenny. Miss McDonough took Miss Ashcombe’s free hand in hers and softly inquired once again. “Lass, wot appened?” Jenny looked up. Murin waited silently for a reply but none came. Miss Ashcombe’s eyes shifted past her to Mister Wenge and Mister Satir thenback to Murin imploring that they be left alone. Murin turned to request their departure but Alder had already started ushering the clerk from the room. As the door closed behind her Murin leaned towards Jenny and waited for the woman’s tale. When no words came she asked, "The clark tol mae det ya was brought in by Capin Lasster, should I ask im?"

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August 1, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William was unceremonious about stowing his gear. He let his hat fall into a chair and collected a large bottle of amber colored liquor from the stern bench. He gestured to a chair and Eric sat down, but William remained standing as he filled the two glasses.

"Something against the weather."

"Aye, sah. Thank you, sah."

William drank a little before saying anything more. He rubbed one eye as he replaced the glass on the table and he popped his neck to one side and then the other.

"We signed on some twenty-eight men today." William began.

"Sah..." Eric interjected and William paused. "A Frenchman, name of Lefevre, came aboard with the Larboard crews..."

"Ah, yes." William nodded. "Christophe Lefevre."

"Aye, sah. That's the one."

"We'll make him an able seaman, along with most of the men who came aboard tonight. I've sent Mister Greene to Rummy. She'll see what skill he possesses as a carpenter."

"Sah...there's a rumor that she and Mister Hawks..." Eric began, but William was already nodding.

"A rumor." he said smiling. "Well, if it is a rumor aboard the 'Dog than it is as good as gospel. Rummy and Jonathan mean to put to shore with their shares here at Martinique. Where is she?"

"I believe she is repairing the cable tier forward, sah."

"The Tawny business?"

"Aye, sah. Not much damage there, but she likes her work...unspoiled, as she puts it."

"Aye." William agreed, and he thought of article thirteen. 'That none of the Crew shall go on Shore till the Ship is off the Ground, and in readiness to put to Sea...'. "Well...to other matters. With Mister Pew ashore I will need you to pick a 'second' to act as a captain of marines for the alternate watches. I leave the matter to you whether you shall raise another seaman or choose a marine. When you put ashore tomorrow we'll visit Mister Pew and you and he can discuss new marines with him, but you must assign a man to stand in your stead. Someone from the Starboard Watch or one of the new men. Luc or Jean if you feel a mind to. The marines already serving on the Heron will there remain, unless Captain Lasseter decides otherwise. This leaves us with...five Larboard marines... Ciaran, Tribbiani, Woodington, Marchande and...Hingerty. And to Starboard...?"

"Four to Starboard." Eric returned. "Five with myself. Thatcher, Morrel, McGinty and Mooney."

"With Thatcher ashore."

"Aye, sah."

"In addition to youself and Mister Pew I should like some eight marines Starboard and Larboard. I would like you to think on that matter and assist Mister Pew in choosing the new marines on the morrow."

~Larboard Watches on Duty~

 

 

 

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Miss Ashcombe was in want of privacy not only due to her state of dress, but because she began to fear questions. Too many queries from people she was unsure of. Especially now. She trusted the woman before her who had warmth to her face and a genuineness of smile. Jenny had liked Murin McDonough the minute she discovered she was a girl and not a strange lad lost in a ladies clothier. Though she was gratefull for the lass' understanding of her needs, she was still afraid. Murin leaned close taking her hand and spoke softly waiting patiently. Careful not to press for a reply. Confident one would come. Clearly she had learned in life there were times to employ compassion even in urgent matters. Jenny looked up at her friend and saw the concern in her eyes. She decided she must trust if she were to recieve the help she needed so desperately. She took a deep breath and shuddered as she exhaled slowly. "Murin, ye needen't ask your Captain. He was kind in bringing me here. It was quite by accident. I was followed by a thief or some other." she decided that some things were better held back. Knowledge unnecesary could endanger others. Garaud, if he didn't care to find her, would certainly send his men after the purse she now had secreted in the small bundle. Not so much that he needed it, t'was a paltry sum in comparison to his fortune. But because it was his... and Martin Garaud gave unwillingly. To have something taken without his express permission was unthinkable. She was sure he'd never even imagined one among those who knew him would dare. Let alone his own blood. Even if it was by marriage. Jenny took Murins other hand and looked at her with purpose " I've run away from the plantation and my relation there who is a drunken tyrant of a man. She put one hand to her cheek and felt the soreness still apparent as the bruise which caused it. Murin's eyes grew larger. "Hae did this to ye? " "Yes" she replied lowering her eyes. "It's of no consequence now." Jenny raised her chin and again regarded her friend. "I mean to flee. Please. Will you implore of your Captains to allow me passage?" She took a chance and quickly added "I can more than compensate them for this. I have family ..." she sighed looking past her friend momentarily. Picturing being resigned to that unhappy life again. Which in the least would be safe. Perhaps things had changed. Perhaps there was a life for her there now. She continued "in the Colonies. If your ships do not sail there, mayhaps I can travel with you as far as they do go. Where I then may find other accomodations for the rest of the journey." Jenny looked at the Watch Dog's tailor with desperation in her eyes. " I must tell you he is very angry with me and I may not be safe for long" she began to tremble again. "Please Murin, I don't know what to do. I've no one else" she looked down again and took another breath "If I sail on another ship alone.." Jenny Ashcombe held back a sob and wiped at her eye with the back of one hand. "will you help me? Will you at the very least ask?"

redcat-wd-banner2.jpg

Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help....

Her reputation was her livelihood.

I'm a pirate, love. By nature and by choice!

My inner voice sometimes has an accent!

My wont? A delicious rip in time...

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Across the wide common room, sheltered from the storm in the safe harbor of the warm hearth, the shrouded figure remained as the main door repeatedly opened and shut, each time admitting loud and chilly reminder of the storm without.

Had anyone bothered to notice, they would have seen a marked change in the crouched figure's posture as Miss McDonaugh and Mister Wenge stumbled through the door. Its interest clearly piqued, it watched with burning eyes as the pair exchanged words with the clerk and were led through the room in the direction of the back offices, taking special notice of Miss McDonaugh's limping gait.

After the inner door had swung shut behind the curious guests, the wraith waited another several moments. Somewhere across the room, a fight broke out between card players. Harsh voices rose angrily. Tempers flared. A chair overturned as two burly men launched themselves at one another. In the ruckus that followed, no one noticed a pickpocket help himself to an inebriated guest's purse. Even fewer noticed that the figure next to the hearth had disappeared, as if floating away up the chimney with the smoke.

In actuality, the shadowy figure's exit was far less theatrical. Walking quickly through the crowd, keeping to the corners and the shadows, he simply strode across the room and slipped into the passage leading back to the private chambers and sleeping quarters of those guests staying at the tavern. Stepping carefully in the dark, the figure found its way up the stairs, down a short passage, and into an especially dark space inside a tiny closet used for storing extra sheets and candles. Naturally, the closet was locked, but locks nary stopped a ghost and this skulking creature was not so very much different.

The hiding spot turned out to be excellent. A guest exited his room a few paces down the hallway, and as he passed in front of the closet, the hidden specter could clearly see his feet pass by through a large gap between door and floorboards.

Once again, the cloaked figure settled in to watch, and to wait.

Avast, ye scurvy dog!

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The rain continued to pour as Captain Lasseter made his farewells. He stepped out side closing the door behind him.

Maeve ushered a grumbling Preston back to his bed. BriarRose could hear her scolding the recovering patient, "Now don't ye be givin' me none of that. Ye need yer rest ye do. And I'll not be havin' ye take any chances since BriarRose and I have been workin' so hard to get ye well."

BriarRose bit back the bubbling laughter rising in her throat as she continued to hear the mutterings of Preston as Maeve bullied him back to his bed. BriarRose cleared the table and began the chore of washing the dishes and utensils when Maeve came in to the kitchen. "Now, I want to know two things, BriarRose. First what are ye plannin' to do with that fluff of fur?" Maeve pointed to the wee black ball of fur sleeping peacefully in a basket that BriarRose had found for it earlier. A piece of wool was tucked around the sleeping kitten.

"To be honest, I am not sure," sighing, she continued, " For now, if it is alright with you, Maeve, I would like to keep him. I miss having a pet. I guess he reminds me a bit of home." BriarRose answered her friend as she blinked back the tears.

Maeve sighed, "Well, well, how can I refuse ya when you sound so sad and pathetic?"

BriarRose dried her hands and went over to the sleeping kitten and gently touched his fur. "It was like he found me." Shaking her head a bit to clear her thoughts she said, "Thank you Maeve, I appreciate your understanding. I have been woolgathering too much today I think." smiling, BriarRose, put water on to boil.

Maeve continued to look at her friend with concern. "Are ye alright? I know it has been difficult for ye?"

"Aye, I will be alright. It was just, it was just the rain. Too many memories and I was a bit lost today I think." Briar said as she finished washing and rinsing the dishes and utensils. Maeve began to dry them still silent in her thoughts and concern for her friend.

"And what was the other thing you wanted to know?" BriarRose asked Maeve. At that, Maeve smiled wickedly at her friend and said, "I was noticin' a particular Captain tonight watchin' ye." BriarRose began to blush as Maeve continued, " And I am thinkin' ye were noticin' him as well."

BriarRose, got down some cups and started preparing the evening tea. "Maeve, I don't know what you are talking about."

"Hmm, Don't cha now. I'm thinkin' ye do." Maeve said as her eyes sparkled with merriment at her friends' flustered demeanor. "And I'm also thinkin' he will be back of course to check on our patient real soon."

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

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Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.

The Dimension of Time is only a doorway to open. A Time Traveler I am and a Lover of Delights whatever they may be.

There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.

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Dorian had combed out his hair and dried it as best he could, changed from dripping wet clothes into dry ones. He was slightly chilled in just a shirt and slops, so he again opened his sea chest and pulled out an old friend. The Captain unfolded the sun faded blue sailors jacket he had arrived with when he signed on as the Quartermaster if the Watch Dog, what seemed so long ago. With ease he shrugged it on and adjusted the fit. Pulling his wet hair out from under the collar he held it back while looking for a ribbon to tie it with, then decided to leave it out. He pulled his comb through his hair one more time and laid it on the table top. Feeling much warmer he chanced a look out the stern windows at the weather. He could not see the land but for a handful of bright smudges of light here and there. He wondered where those ashore from the ships were holed up, guarded from the storm. He chuckled some, knowing that every ordinary, alehouse, tavern, etc. was thick with sailors doing their best to enjoy their time off their ships. He himself could have stayed ashore, either in the company of those under Doctor O’Treasaigh’s roof, or even at the Chateau Anse. He was sure there would be a room available for him there. Well, he had made his choice and was back aboard the Heron, not that it was a bad choice. He felt the ocean fall and rise, with the rage of the sea and storm continuing, and intermixed with the sounds of the ship he thought he heard music. It was faint yet familiar, causing him to take up his hat and pull out his oilskin overcoat. His shoes were soaked, not that it mattered, but he chose to remain unshod and headed up on deck where the music was louder. He greeted Mister Brisbane on the quarterdeck.

“Lovely weather, eh Nigel?”

“Aye Cap’n, if ye says so…”

“Heh, aye I do say, but don’t believe it m’self. That music, come from th’ Dog, aye?”

“Aye sar, Cap’n Brand brought some three boat loads o’ new men aboard not long after you returned.”

“Ahhh…. Very good, very good…. I ‘spect he’s have’n em find a place aboard til all is calmed. I’ll be b’low for a time, hopefully th’ weather will calm enough that we might head o’er an’ see what William fished out o’ the prison.”

“Aye Cap’n.”

Dorian headed to the rail and peered at the Frigate. He could see movement on deck under their awnings, maybe even some dancing. He wondered why those left on the Heron were not so jovial, so instead of returning to the Wardroom he walked about the deck. Every man on duty wore a smile and some even tapped a foot in time to the music. He did not ask a question of any, but headed below through the fore hatch and into the berth spaces. Those there were either asleep, or content with personal dealings. Those that saw the Captain began to stand and he waved them down. He made his way aft and back onto deck where he again addressed the Coxswain.

“Nigel… dare I wonder to know why there is no singing, no music played on the Heron?”

Nigel drew in breath and hesitated a moment before answering.

“Cap’n I don’t think we got any aboard wot plays music. As fer singin’ Some of th’ men were afore th’ storm got bad.”

“Ah, I see… thank you fer bein candid…”

“Aye Sar…”

Captain Lasseter lingered a moment longer on deck before returning to his quarters. There he shed his oilskins and hat, and paced the deck for a short time, listening to the faint music come from the Watch Dog. He was determined to find a way to remedy the absence of musicians on his ship, even if it meant taking up an instrument himself. He chuckled, thinking that might be disastrous, but one never knew.

Truly,

D. Lasseter

Captain, The Lucy

Propria Virtute Audax --- In Hoc Signo Vinces

LasseterSignatureNew.gif

Ni Feidir An Dubh A Chur Ina Bhan Air

"If I whet my glittering sword, and mine hand take hold on judgment; I will render vengeance to mine enemies, and will reward them that hate me." Deuteronomy 32:41

Envy and its evil twin - It crept in bed with slander - Idiots they gave advice - But Sloth it gave no answer - Anger kills the human soul - With butter tales of Lust - While Pavlov's Dogs keep chewin' - On the legs they never trust... The Seven Deadly Sins

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BriarRose finished making the tea and poured both her and Maeve a cup. "Shall we sit in the front room for a bit?" she asked Maeve.

"Aye, I will stoke up the fire a bit." Maeve stated as they both left the kitchen.

Sitting down, BriarRose, quietly sipped her tea. Her brow was furrowed as she sat there thinking of what her friend had just said. Shaking her head, BriarRose quickly changed the subject as Maeve sat down next to her. The fire crackled with warmth as she said, "I suppose with the rain I will be safe here for a bit longer. I am torn to leave you Maeve. You are a dear friend to me and yet I worry for your safety. And I am worried too about your situation. I do not want to leave you all alone."

Maeve reached over and squeezed her friend's hand and said, "Ye know you can stay as long as ye like. And don't be worrin' about me. It will all work out BriarRose, for both of us, wait and see."

BriarRose smiled and relaxed a bit. The two continued to talk for some time enjoying the pitter patter sound of the rain and the crackling warmth of the fire. The black fluff of fur found his way on BriarRose's lap, curling up and purring contentedly as she stroked his soft fur. Maeve looked at the kitten and asked, "Well if we are goin' to be keepin' him, what do ya think his name should be?"

BriarRose smiled and said as the kitten gold-green eyes looked up at her, "His name is Mandrake."

"Now that is a powerful name. Well I hope he lives up to it then." Maeve said as she leaned over and stroked him under the chin.

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

BriarBannerHerbsGlowGreenBorder.jpg

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.

The Dimension of Time is only a doorway to open. A Time Traveler I am and a Lover of Delights whatever they may be.

There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.

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Treasure laughed as the songs grew bawdy, cheeks filled with color, eyes dancing and alight with mischief. It had been long since they had had a chance to sing and dance such as this..why not since before the battle at sea she was thinking. She glanced to see Ajayi, he may not know any of the words but he did occassionaly tap his fingers. He had also aided her in the rigging that one shift change and then fought Tawny. And yet always was the big man seeming alone..Well till apparently Argus found his side. The big giant rubbed the ears of the dog and of course Argus was enjoying ever moment of it.

As the song changed again she felt herself lifted up and dizzily glanced to see Ciaran take hold of her and then they danced about, thankful for slops and a westkit instead of stays and skirts she fell fully into the dance, enjoying herself as much as Argus. Suddenly an opening in the canvas and she led Ciaran out into the rain and tilting her face up laughed as they whirled faster before they had to slow down or risk injury. Breathless they darted back beneath the canvas just as lightning once more flashed overhead. Throwing herself back into her rope seat she smiled at Ciaran and thanked him for the dance. Jacques having not gone ashore came to her side bowing low and pointing and gesturing for a dance..Again pulled to her feet she danced with him, then danced with several others before she once more found her place in the ropes…”No more..Im all danced out..” she laughingly confided.

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If you got a dream chase it, cause a dream won't chase you back...(Cody Johnson Till you Can't)

 

 

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“I’ll ask. Captain Brand is a good and understanding man. I nil know where we sail to. I jus been with dem fer a shor time m’self lass but I’ll ask.” She paused, “Tain’t it family wot yere runnin frum?” Jenny shook her head from side to side. “Different family, …blood.” Murin released the lady’s hands and sat back thinking, “I ken nil say one way or anotter, but I will ask Capin’ Brand. I ken’t see im turning ya out after seein det.” She indicated the discoloration and swelling on the womans face. “E picked mae frum d’san er ..aa…” Murin stumbled over the word realizing too that she had not explained how she was “recruited” as tailor but she could think of no way to recover either so she continued. “…sand n’ere I m!” She laughed then glazed over anything Jenny was about to say. “Efen ya er offerin t’pay I ken tink o’no reezon e’wooed nay elp ya.” Again she paused, "Rainin too ard t’take ya t’da capin’ t’night. Yu’ll stay wit mae an I ell take ya t’da capin in d’mornin.” Miss McDonough leaned against the table and brought herself to her feet and hobbled to the door. “I can not burden you …” Murin waved her hand stopping Genevieve mid sentence, “Lass, ya came t’mae fer elp, let mae elp, tis m’turn.” She smiled a soft smile then turned, limped to the door and opened it.

Alder, who was leaning against the opposite wall, looked at Murin with concern in his eyes. “Mister Wenge, would ya please see Miss Ashcombe to m'rooom.” Handing Alder the key she added, “Yoose d’back stairs, N’send a’clark t’mae.” Just then Mister Satir’s head appeared in the door frame. Alder signaled him to come and whispered to Murin “He has been popping in and out like that about every sixty seconds.” When the man arrived at her side she asked “Goode clark would ya ave anotter brandy n’sometin fer dis lass t’eat sent t’mae rooom?” Murin pressed a coin into his hand when he saw it he nodded enthusiastically “Oui, oui!” and scurried off.

Murin brought Alder into the room, “Jenny, ya remember Mister Wenge ere?” Jenny nodded. How could she forget the man that her friend was so clearly taken with? “I’ve asked im ta take ya t’my room. As ya see I’m avi a bit o trouble wolkn” she said indicating her leg.

“I saw! What happened?”

“Twas twisted.” Murin again felt the heat of embarrassment rise on her cheek. “The Clark well bae bringin ya sum food n’anutter brandy t’elp ya sleep.” Genevieve stood and crossed the room taking the arm that the carpenter offered her. “Murin, thank you, thank you so very much.”

“Yer more den welcome lass. Now go.”

“Shall I find you here?” Alder inquired.

“Nay, I’ll bae in d’common room waitin fer ya …an a meal! I needs ta eat.”

“As do I Murin.” Alder’s smile warmed her, it always did. Murin watched the two glided down the hall to the staircase then turned the other direction and walked with some difficulty to the common room.

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London, England

He stood by the window watching the storm as he waited for his servant to return. He turned from the window and sat on a cushioned chair. Picking up a goblet on the table next to him, he took a deep drink from its contents. His square jaw was clenched and his thin lips tight as he thought on her. He was not a man to take no for an answer. He was a handsome man yet his features were marred by the constant sneer he wore. He was not a man to be taken lightly and his anger was always bubbling at the surface when things were not done his way. He had his moments of charm yet underneath it laid a cruelty for those beneath him.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in." He spoke in a clipped tone. The door opened and his servant appeared. "Well, Murdock, what did Johnson find out?" With a shaking hand, Murdock handed his master the missive he had received. "You may leave. Tell Williams to bring me some food."

"Yes, my Lord," Murdock said as he bowed and took his leave from the room relieved at the escape he was given. His master was known to punish those that were closest to him even if they had done no wrong.

His jaw clenched even tighter as he opened the missive. He crumpled the missive after reading it, his face turned a molten shade of deep red. In a tight voice he spoke allowed, "I will find you and I will have you, my dear BriarRose. Aye, my Rose, my dear Red Rose, you will be mine."

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

BriarBannerHerbsGlowGreenBorder.jpg

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.

The Dimension of Time is only a doorway to open. A Time Traveler I am and a Lover of Delights whatever they may be.

There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.

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Fort Royal Martinique

Maeve and BriarRose sat talking by the fire. The kitten jumped down from BriarRose's lap and stretched. He wandered over to the hearth and curled up.

"Well, now, he seems to be happy." BriarRose commented.

"Aye, that he does." Said Maeve. "I'll be right back. Gonna check on our patient." Maeve got up and went in to the patient's room.

BriarRose sat looking in to the fire. For a moment she sensed a strange feeling permeate the room. She shivered as the feeling became stronger. Mandrake looked up and hissed. Then all went back to normal. Looking back in to the fire, BriarRose, knew he was searching for her.

Maeve came back in to the room and said, "Well, for some one who complained he wasn't tired he is sleeping quite soundly." Looking at her friend she asked, "Briar, dear, are ye alright? Ye look like ye seen a ghost."

BriarRose swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled, "Aye, Maeve, I am fine. Just a bit unsettled that's all."

"Well then I have just the thing for ye," Maeve said as she went over to the cupboard and pulled down a bottle of mead and two goblets. Smiling, she poured a generous amount in both goblets as she walked back over she handed one to BriarRose.

BirarRose laughed and said, "Now how can I refuse that?" The two women laughed like young girls as they continued to talk and drink the fine mead that Maeve had poured.

Mandrake went back to sleep purring contentedly by the fire.

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

BriarBannerHerbsGlowGreenBorder.jpg

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.

The Dimension of Time is only a doorway to open. A Time Traveler I am and a Lover of Delights whatever they may be.

There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.

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As she settled within the coils she could still hear the music but her eyes closed as she listened to the muted strains of conversation about her, men she thought hiding a smile, some so easy to please. A group over her shoulder pleased that some favored lady had shown a bit of ankle, they spoke of her clocked stockings and the daintiness of her shoe. Another group spoke of purchases made and Alan was speaking of pipe tobacco and of how the young shop lad had tried to cheat him while she had made off like a pirate. That one took a wee bit to not laugh at but she managed it. So that was what had had him all disgruntled, and she had thought it had been the kitten. Thoughts of the kitten made her melancholy and she hoped he had made it out of the rain and to safety, free from the booted feet of men and the shod hooves of horses.

Feeling somewhat unsettled she rose and made her way about the men and paused to stare out over the turbulent sea and tilted her head breathing deep, her voice when it came was soft, reverent. The words both soothing and yet haunted as she sang Ave Maria. The lull in conversation was not instantaneous, nor had she expected it to be, this was for her, a need to sing, a passion that would not be denied, a passion given voice to soar and lift.

Ave Maria! Ave Maria!

Ave Maria,

Ave Maria!

Ave Maria! Ave Maria!

gratia plena,

Vergin del ciel,

Ave Maria! Ave Maria!

Dominus tecum,

sovrana di grazie e madre pia,

Ave! Ave!

benedicta tu in mulieribus,

che accogli ognor la fervente preghiera,

Ave Maria! Ave Maria!

et benedictus

non negar a questo straziato mio cor

Ave Maria!

fructus ventris tui, Jesu.

tregua al suo dolor!

Ave!

At times there seemed to be such sorrow and anguish, her voice an instrument, talented, beseeching. Not a soul moved as the song was given life, all felt the tumult of the emotion that she gave life to, words that otherwise would have been flat upon paper became a living breathing thing as it sifted through so many’s emotions. Emotions she had long since held as she gave her voice the true power and range to do as it would. Each note was felt, the song pulled from her soul filled with grief, sorrow, joy. Things she could never express before others tumbled through the song, an outlet, a release.

Sperduta l'alma mia si prostra a te,

Sancta Maria,

e pien' di speme si prostra ai tuoi pi

Sancta Maria,

t'invoca e attende

Maria!

che tu dedia

Ora pro nobis nobis peccatoribus,

la pace che solo tu poi donar.

nunc et in hora

Ave Maria!

in hora mortis nostrae.

Amen.

Amen.

As the last note resonated and died away lost to the storm and sea not many sat without feeling the music had somehow touched a part of them, many not knowing the words, not even caring, all seemed to know it was a song of worth. No one stirred and Alan merely studied the lone figure standing at the edge of the canvas, Ciaran watching her as well, as Alan looked to him he shrugged, "The lass has a gift, hers to use as she wills or not." As the thunder boomed it seemed to break the air of stupor that lay over the Dog and with a tearful smile she turned back to them and began a rowdy shanty that soon had all aboard singing again.

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If you got a dream chase it, cause a dream won't chase you back...(Cody Johnson Till you Can't)

 

 

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August 1, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Two bells of Second Dog Watch

"Shall I choose from among the new men as well, sah?" Eric asked.

William refreshed Eric's cup a little and replaced the bottle in the stern bench, then he walked about a bit, saying nothing. He crossed the room twice before he turned back to Mister Franklin. "I am hesitant to give advice either way except to say this, that the new men are unproven. Still, a show of good faith on our part might not be amiss, so I leave that decision to you and Mister Pew."

"Thank you, sah. Have any of them...experience?"

"Lefevre has none that I am aware of and speaks but French, so I cannot recommend him. The Standifords were Hatchelers, so no knowledge there but the flax. Andrew Light of the Providence has experience. He was First Mate of that ship and a blunt, straight forward fellow." William paused a moment and then fetched up parchment and ink. He sat down and began making notations as he spoke aloud. "Richard Tollervy was a marine and a keeper of hawks."

"Hawks." Eric repeated, shaking his head a little. "Hawks."

"His companion, Brenton, is too plain a man. Robert Hollis...you would only want for conversation, and I have designs on the rest that came with him, so you cannot have William Dash, Thomas Crips or John Kine. These men have skills I can employ elsewhere."

"Aye, sah."

"Anthony Dyer knows a good musket, but mind him. He was press ganged and a might bitter for it." William paused. "He'll be for the Heron. Gabriel Edward and David Henry seemed amiable, though I have nothing from them about their experience with boarding or the firing of guns. I asked few questions touching anything but seamanship..." William admitted. "...but Robert Elmer said he was good with a cudgel."

"A brawler, then." Eric returned and sipped his glass. "Might make use of him."

"Aye. Jeffrey Elijah and Zachary Howard will both go over to the Heron. Good able seamen by their report." William looked up from his scribblings. "We also have a German fellow. One Ulrich fon Sandt-Thorvald." William said, careful to pronounce the name in a sharper tongue. "A professional soldier by trade. You may want him for his languages alone." William paused, then edited his comment with a smile. "Or...you may not want him for his languages. You'll never have a secret in front of him."

"And the rest, Sah?"

"I could only recommend Martin Gadd or Francis Roundtree. Not too many of the fighting trade in this lot and I mean to have Mister Greene for a carpenter. My apologies to you and Mister Pew." William said with a bemused look. "I was after able seamen."

"Aye, Sah. We might find a fowler amongst 'em."

"Aye. We might at that. And do consider Owen. I was wrong to forbid him when we last chose marines. If he straightens out he might make a good marine. Again, I leave that to the both of you."

William continued to pen several notes, sometimes on one piece of paper and sometimes on another. He looked up at one point and said, "Do not use Oliver Randall." William did not elaborate on his reason for marking the new recruit, but he pointed his quill at the Sergeant at Arms and repeated. "Do not use Oliver Randall."

Eric nodded and William finished the last of his notations. He passed two slips of parchment to Eric with the following lists:

Assigned to the Heron:

Brenton Coles

John Kine

Anthony Dyer

Jeffrey Elijah

Zachary Howard

David Leigh

Godfrey Bicknell

Francis Thomas Roundtree

James Abraham Sandefur

Assigned to the Watch Dog:

Larboard-

Robert Hollis

Gabriel Edward

Oliver Randall

Samuel Standiford

James Standiford

Brenton Lund

Moses MacTigue

Blaise Wallace

Gavin Montgomery

Christophe Lefevr

Starboard-

Richard Tollervy

William Dash

Thomas Crips

Ulrich fon Sandt-Thorvald

Jonah Greene

David Henry

Robert Elmer

Andrew Light

Martin Gadd

Keven Norman

Eric perused the list once with a cursory glance. "Thank you, Sah."

"Thank you, Mister Franklin. Make yourself known to the new recruits."

"I shall, Sah."

"And Eric..."

"Sah?"

"Pay my compliments to Miss Tribbiani."

"Aye, Sah."

~Larboard Watches on Duty~

 

 

 

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Once the others were singing again her voice drifted off she moved back to the rear of the canvas and folded her arms about her waist. The Dog was her home, these men her brothers, and she felt raw after singing such, letting her passions rule instead of her head. She inhaled deeply taking in the scent of the sea, the salt and familiar scent locked into her lungs for a space of two heartbeats before she released it. A slender hand coming to rest upon a barrel nearest her and lost as she was in her thoughts it took her some time to find herself hailed. Startled and blinking quickly to dispel the fog from her eyes she glanced up to spot Mr. Franklin. Paling slightly she tugged her forelock with respect and as he motioned to her she pulled further from her boisterous brothers in arms and lowered her head.

“Sir?” She asked quietly, her heart wildly thumping in her chest wondering if perhaps she had yet again done something to anger him.

Eric studied the lass that stood afore him, normally she was all fire even when holding herself aloof from the others there was a spirited fire within her. And now all he saw was submission, he did not know whether to be pleased or insulted as he debated her actions. He had also taken note of the sudden friendship with Mr. Woodington, the slight drawing forth from her cocoon. He studied her long enough that her head finally rose and hints of blue green peppered through black lashes. Aye and curious to boot, the lass was like the sea, her moods changing with the winds and yet he too had been touched by her song. With her looks and voice she could easily take the stage, but the Captain had saved her and brought her aboard. He knew not the story of the saving for neither spoke of it though he could guess.

Seeing her eyes widen and her face lift up further he found he could not torment her further and spoke “Tha Captain sends his compliments…….” Then he smiled slowly “As do I.” That said he watched her eyes widen still more, a look of uncertainty and perhaps something fragile appear afore it vanished leaving him to wonder.

“Thank…Thank you sir, and to the Captain as well.” It was clear he had shocked her but she seemed to recover quickly and straightened with a flash of the spirit he knew her to have and more firmly stated “Thank you., Anything else Sir?”

“Nay Carry on.” Then he turned about leaving to find the new recruits and her still standing watching him leave. However nothing could stop the smile that graced her features nor lit her face as she stepped out beneath the canvas to whirl in the rain.

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If you got a dream chase it, cause a dream won't chase you back...(Cody Johnson Till you Can't)

 

 

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