The Watch Dog

[William Brand]

"We have been partially introduced already." William said, smiling a little at the affectation. Holland was a name he had used so infrequently in the past that it surprised him of late to hear it so often. Still, one name was as good as another, as Tempest herself understood. For these women might have loyal ties to countries undiscovered.

"Good evening, ladies." William said as he and the Quartermaster entered the room. Murin made as if to rise, as did Ana, but William waved them down again. "Please. There is no need to stand. You'll pardon me, but I have some questions."

They nodded together, though even in this they differed, the first nodding with a lowered gaze and the second with a raised chin. One was dressed plainly and in clothes that were not her own. While the other was dressed in finery reduced to tatters. They were as prison vagabonds brought up from an oubliette into too much light. They both looked pale and tired and William wished he had not changed his mind, but he pressed forward with his questions nonetheless.

"Am I to assume the Apollo was altogether lost?"

"Sunk. A sto'm....it..." The first began, but William needed no details.

"That will do...Miss?"

She hesitated a moment before answering. "Murin. Murin McDonough."

"Welcome aboard, Miss McDonough." He said with the warmest smile he could muster, hoping it served. The other woman was rising again from her seat and with an effort. She extended her hand in a courtly fashion that was a graceful yet Herculean effort. She swayed a little and William was forced to take her hand more out of necessity for her safety than out of any courtesy. He bowed low over the hand.

"Ana." was all she managed, and it was not much more than a sleepwalker's whisper. If there was more to her name than that she was either too tired to say it or it was momentarily beyond her.

He returned her hand and her name. "Ana."

Then he left as quietly as he had come in, nodding to the Doctor and motioning to the two able seamen to follow him and Mister Lasseter from the room. The ship's bell was struck as they went out.

July 18, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Two bells of the Second Dog Watch

[Dorian Lasseter]

Mr. Lasseter made room for the Captain to remove himself from the Surgery, followed by the two seamen who were there.

"A'right lads, to th' Galley wi' ye... past time fer ye ta fill yer bellies, then to yer hammocks til next watch..."

The men nodded, touched their forelocks and headed into the warmth of the galley. Dorian then followed the captain back to the Wardroom and set the pot of tea next to the half empty, cold one from earlier. He settled in the chair he formerly occupied, offered a cup to the Captain, who shook his head in the negative, then poured himself a fresh cup. He tasted it, then drank it down, poured a second cup and drained half of it before talking.

"Well William... we got th' same responce as I 'ad ashore... can't see a reason fer them ta be tryin' ta deceive us... "

He was interrupted by Miss Smith bringing in some hot fare from the Galley. It appeared that Mr. Gage was making fine work of the freshly caught fish of the other day. Once she had set the platter on the table, he resumed.

"From what we been seein' in th' water, that ship musta been pounded ta wee bits by now... dunno if there be anything left ta salvage, least not so much as we seen so far..."

William contemplated what the Quartermaster had said and moved to the sideboard, brought out a bottle of dark glass and two earthenware vessels. He poured a measure in each and brought them to the table, setting one in front of Dorian and one infront of himself.

[William Brand]

William filled Dorian's glass and then his own. William measured his glass for a moment, holding it near his mouth, but without drinking. Then he proposed a toast.

"To castaways. Be they cast off from ships or whole nations."

Dorian added a personal punctuation of his own mother tongue, but it eluded William.

"Dorian...we've become carrion dogs." He began, filling both glasses again. "Picking the meat from dead ships. By my calculations we'll have a new moon tonight or tomorrow. How many survivors have we pulled from the sea since the last new moon?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

Mr. Lasseter drained his glass and looked into its empty depths. Then he looked at William and shrugged. "Can't say as I been keepin' count in me 'ead... I'd have ta look in th' log ta say..."

He then chuckled and slid his glass towards the Captain.

"Carrion dogs... might very well be fittin'... Though I prefer ta be known as somat more in th' way of a wolf, if we were ta be named by r' enemies..."

Again he shrugged, "No matter.... this ship's a goode home fer many a wayward pup... Mayhaps in a fortnight we'll bay at th' moon... from a wee stronghold on our, island..."

[William Brand]

William eyed the empty glass that Mister Lasseter put before him. He eyed Mister Lasseter as he filled the glass half as much as before, then paused.

"Remind me, Mister Lasseter. Which of us has the deck tonight...?"

He smiled and filled the glass the rest of the way to the top and slid it back. And topped of his own glass. Miss Smith set a bowl of hot soup before the Captain and the Quartermaster. Just then there was a knock at the door and Mister Pew was ushered in. He removed his hat and William gestured to the chair opposite the Quartermaster.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon contemplated the situation newly rendered as William conversed briefly. She slyed a glance to Dorian, curious as to what his synopsis might be as he stood near at hand. As the mild round of quid pro quo lapsed into conclusion, Jaquelyin kept her peace and gave nothing more than a nod as the Captain and entourage made departure.

As the door returned to latch security, she returned attention back to those in her keeping. It was apparent that the past hour's excitement had taken its toll upon what little energy the duo had left in reserves and with a slight nod of self accord, Jacquelyn excused herself momentarily.

Moving on to connecting chamber door, she homed in on a battered chest residing against far wall. After quick investigation of its depths, she procured two shifts of simple yet fine crafted wrought. They had gained the scent of cedar surround after being so long in hibernation. Looking them over brought back memories of distant shores and it occured to her that neither had seen the light of day since that time. The chest was closed and its inhabitants shrouded once again in darkness.

The sound of main entrance being breeched gave her pause and Raphael stepped quietly into the private chamber. The pale sights honed in imediately to where she stood, a fleet of hinted smile playing the corners of stoic manner. He moved closer, glancing to the lay of linen drapping Jaquelyn's forearm.

"Monsieur Gage has been very accommodating to needs and water warmed to proper temperature shall be ready shortly. I would judge it for the better if the mademoiselles were in a cleaner state before any treatment of wounds be rendered."

"Oui...I concure that would perhaps be for the better."

Raphael moved to the connecting door and hesitated with right hand on handle, he turned to center his attention to where the Surgeon remained.

"I have a bottle of Calvados from home in my possession...Perhaps you would like to partake of a glass once the mademoiselles are settled in?"

She smiled at the invitation, " Merci beaucoup, monsieur...I would be honoured."

"Tres vien...and the honour will be mine alone."

Chanault proffered smallish bow, the hinted smile broadened a degree as he opened the door, continueing to medical realm beyond.

[Silkie McDonough]

The two were alone in the surgery ward; Ana, nearly asleep in the chair to her left. The past few hours were a whirlwind in Murin’s mind. Earlier that evening she had feared that soon Ana would not have the strength to survive many more days. She began to try to calculate the days they had been there. She did not even know the date of their departure from Barbados or the date of her escape. Summer, perhaps early July. The dates on the calendar had meant nothing to her for so long; she concluded it made little difference now. They were alive and in the care of a physician and her mate. Relieved, she sighed.

Trying to swallow she was reminded of how dehydrated she was …and how thirsty Ana surely was. Looking around the room she spied a bucket and ladle hung to her right just past the door the surgeon had disappeared through. As she rose and headed for the bucket, being unaccustomed to having sword hanging from her hip, the sword caught the chair she had been occupying and toppled it behind her. As she turned to stop it Chanault entered through the door and the two collided. He moved swiftly to set the chair upright. She turned again to the water bucket and the scabbard made contact with the man’s leg. Their eyes locked briefly. Had her face not been so burnt by the sun a bright blush from her embarrassment would have been evident. “M’soorey, sur.” She began to fumble to remove the sword belt but her bad hand hindered her progress. Chanault said something in his native tongue; Murin could only stare at the man blankly. Pointing at the buckle he asked in English, “May I help?”

“Please” was all she could muster.

He removed the sword from her waist and laid it on the floor with their other possessions as Murin proceeded to the bucket of water. She drank deeply from the ladle then filled it again and brought it to Ana. Ana gulped it quickly and nodded her unspoken thanks to Murin. Murin reached for the ladle again but Chanault’s hand was quicker. Their eyes met again. “Let me.” was all he said. Murin took her seat as Chanault retrieved the bucket of water for the ladies …allowing a little more to be consumed. “Too much is no good” He moved the bucket from their reach and continued with his work.

Murin sat quietly again watching the rain splatter in the port hole.

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Remind me, Mister Lasseter. Which of us has the deck tonight...?"

Dorian thought for a moment or two...

"I honestly know not who has th' deck this eve... so much has occured I haven't the slightest idea... Mayhaps we'll flip a coin fer th' watch... which reminds me, I need ta put an item I found on one o' them lads wot drowned in th' gen'ral fund... a snuff box with the name Edward Parker engraved on it... plus a handfull o' coins an' such..."

As Mr. Pew came in, he nodded to the Master-at-Arms and took another sip from his glass.

[Pew]

"Cap'n, Mr. Lasseter, eve'nin ta ya both. How goes our newly found shipmates?""

[William Brand]

Miss Smith set a glass in front of Mister Pew and William filled it for him as he took his seat at the ward room table.

"These new castaways are at the forefront of our discussion, Mister Pew. As are those who previously joined us here."

"Flint's men." Mister Pew said, making it neither a question or statement.

"Aye. This Jonas McCormick." William shook his head. "We are ever trading one prisoner of the cable tier for another. I would rather have him join the crew then make him a castaway again. However, given his recent loyalties, or those loyalties in question, I should like to know him better first."

William stood and fetched another glass which he poured for Miss Smith who stood hard by to serve food and drink as it was needed. Then he turned back again to the Master-at-Arms.

"Give me your opinion, Mister Pew. What think you of Flint, Bly and McCormick? Speak freely, man. Give us your thoughts."

[Pew]

::I nodded a thank you to Miss Smith and the Captain. Taking a sip from the glass I savored the taste as I had not had such a tasteful drink in several days.

I inhaled deeply as to gather my thoughts and took another sip.

"Well sah, dunnot much about the Bly lad. I know he be a close mate t' our Mr. Flint. Mr. Flint an I spoke briefly back at Margarita when I went ashore with 'im to fetch tha other fellas. E'er tha watchful o' those two I am. Strange circumstances them mullin about in tha woods near tha beach for days . . .Yet, I cannot fault Flint though. He an' Eric took several o' tha lads and right cleaned out the armoury jus' a day 'er two ago . . . . Did a damn good job 'lso. . . . Knows alot about arms and refittin' 'em an' all. Still I 'ave a funny felling 'bout 'im sahs."

I took another sip and placed the glass on the table.

"That McCormick lad . .well . . .dunno much about 'im . .know he took one on tha chin by Flint though . . " The Cap'n and Mister Lasseter let out a slight chuckle. "Sorry sah's cannot 'elp ya wit 'im."

[CaptainCiaran]

(John McGuinty and Ciaran enjoyed another mug o'coffee in the Galley. John's watch had ended sometime earlier and Ciaran, who had spent that time trainin' the new lookout, had remained aloft with him. The pair had endured the rain, the rescue of the two lassies, and the retrieval of the dead from Davy Jones' clutches.

Dry clothing had offered the two lookouts welcome comfort, as did the numerous mugs of java, and Mister Gage's humourous conversation. The Galley was tonight a lively place to be.)

[William Brand]

"I had thought to be more careful since that ark-ruffian Muller took me from the ship, but I cannot see enough fault in any of these men to be too suspicious of them. Flint is quick to please...and polite. I have witnessed no harm from him to any man aboard, save Jonas only, and he watches over Nathan with an auspicious eye."

William paused to sip his drink, then added. "I prefer not to feed a man in chains if I can feed him at the ropes. I admit that my interaction with any of the three is limited, so I'll defer to your opinions gentlemen. I will ask Mister Flint if peace can be had betwixt him and Mister McCormick. If he agrees, I should like a nay or yay from each of you as touching Jonas. You may consider on the matter if you like, but should any of you...Flint included...say 'nay' , I'll leave the man in the fore lastage until we can put him ashore."

[Dorian Lasseter]

The QuarterMaster nodded to the Captain, "Right you are... I would hope he be a man o' oppertunity... an' mayhaps 'as learn'd a lesson from what 'as transpired... 'as he an' Flint been told of th' reason fer Bly's illness? From wot I hear 'e was poisoned... by Gaultier... mayhaps it coulda been 'im that th' bastard poisoned..." His eyebrows lifted and settled with the last words and he settled back in his chair and stretched his arms. "Well... wote'er becomes o' all this, so be it.... would be a pity ta have ta lock 'im up fer lard knows how long..." He then shifted in his chair and pulled a bowl of soup towards him, picked up a spoon and sampled the thick broth. A smile crossed his face and he began to eat in ernest, only pausing to break a ships biscuit in half and diping it in the bowl.

[William Brand]

"You are a man of short sermons, Mister Lasseter. A right, popular parson you would have made." William said with a smile as he too sampled one of the many delicacies that Mister Gage was conjuring of late.

The recently discovered castaway cook whom they had fished from the sea was proving to be a fine fisherman. He patrolled the deck of his galley as the Quartermaster and Captain patrolled the quarterdeck. The galley was quickly becoming an entity unto itself. It was ever issuing forth the heady smells of fish yet unnamed and impossible culinary miracles for a ship so small.

More than that, it was a turn of good fortune, for they were all showing the signs of good health in an age and occupation of hazardous consequences. And even more than this, it was agreed by all to be 'damn fine stuff'.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Frenchman moved away from the Surgery's new wards and to the worn desk with an echo of feline grace. Such fluidity could be dubbed poetry in motion be the appreciative eye, there lay an assuredness and proper measure to even the simplest gesture. Always keeping the duo in peripheral view, Raphael opened a hinged container, extracting what contents lay on mental list, then returned to where the girl of Celtic origins sat in recently righted chair.

He allowed the silence to linger briefly before breaking its perfection with verbose, and when the wording came forth, it was almost in hushed reverant tone.

"Mademoiselle, I have made request to the Galley in regard to a light meal. Before it is brought here, warmed water and a basine shall be presented for your usage in cleansing..."

The pale sights travelled to her injured hand fleetingly then returned to center on her face.

"Madame Fitzgerald has found garmets for you both and should be here momentarily. I shall attend your wounds once you have bathed and eaten."

He returned to silence, waiting for Jacquelyn's entrance.

[Silkie McDonough]

"Missure Shan-alt?" the name came out slowly as she tried hard to mimic the doctor’s pronunciation the foreign sounds. He looked to the young woman who spoke. "Tank ya,” she paused to swallow, “we appreciate yer kineness." The cool green eyes glinted lightly at her; his mouth softened ever so slightly. Murin speculated that was a smile. She was tiring. The reality of not having to fight to merely survive another day was finally sinking into her being. She closed her eyes.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

A soft rap sounded on heavy door, followed by a percession of five tars carrying water of hot and cool nature. Word was sent from the Galley that a proffering to belay the wants of hunger would be delivered in good time compliments of Mister Gage. A barrel that was half its original existance was set down in the center of room's border and being assured that nothing else was needed for the moment, the Surgeon gave words of appreciation and gave leave to ship's company.

Soft cloth was draped over desk's four legged companion for the use of drying and another was suspended from overhead beam in an effort to give privacy. The two linen shifts were hung on wall hook to await their donning as Raphael checked the shallow water container for even temperature. When all was too what seemed a sense of satisfaction, the Frenchman left for adjoining chamber's surround.

The Surgeon explained that if the young women were in need of any aid that she could be found in chamber beyond. Turning to leave, Jacquelyn faltered in step and returning to the younger woman's proximity, held forth a small cake of scented soap. She smiled warmly as Murin accepted the object, "Sometimes a tiny luxury is worth more than all the riches of Persia and I have always relished in having things that remind me of home."

Saying nothing more, the Surgeon followed the path of departure set by Chanault...

[Pew]

Laughing from the thought of our Quartermaster preaching a sermon from the church pulpits back at home, I did not see Mr. Lasseter bringing the fire and brimstone to life as did our fair Reverend MacAllister back upon the Chesapeake shores.

I move slightly in the chair and reach for some of the cheeses that had been brought along from La Margarita.

"Aye, Mr. Lasseter twas what I 'eard 's well ... by tha way tha man looked back ashore he was most certainly nearer ta death than 'e was ta making 'is way 'ere ...McCormick wouldn't ta been able ta poison Bly...d'ya think it Mr. Lasseter? Dinnot see McCormack bein' able ta do it of 'is friend and such...But beggin' ya pahdon sahs, an agreein' wit the Cap'n, I b'lieve twould b' easier ta ask this of Mr. Flint than fer us ta make suppin of wha may be an'o'er man doin's..."

[William Brand]

"Aye Mister Pew. Flint's word on the matter is paramount, but as the Master-at-Arms you may be required to arm Jonas at a later time and so I must require a vote of confidence from you as well. Still, you are right to wait for word from Mister Flint, for as I said, you may both reserve your final opinion on the matter until after we have words from him. He may contradict all our suppositions made here."

Then, in an effort to avoid any more theories or speculations, William shifted to another topic.

"Tell us, Mister Pew. How is Mister Franklin taking to his new responsibilities?

[Pew]

"Aye sah...should I 'avta arm that man..I be sure ta be b'hind 'im..."

I let out a slight laugh but continue wryly, "Ta be 'onest sah...I'd like ta find what Mr. McCormack callin' be if ya know what I mean...mebbe we could put 'im ta work ta find wot we could get outta 'im..."

The Captain nods as I reach for another piece of cheese and a chunk of bread. Changing my tact, I settle back into my chair,

"Eric's a damn good man Cap'n. Dunno where 'e came from, but 'e works likes a horse wit' nary a word. 'e's a kind man 'lso Cap'n. Wouldn't think it..ya know a manna 'is size an all.. 'e took one a tha powder monkey's ta sick bay when tha lad cut 'is hand. Funny thing is, 'e 'as a short temper ifin ya dinnot know 'im well enough. But 's far 's 'is duties sah, I trust 'im like my own brotha. 'e and I be thinkin' alike...wot next 'nd such..."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian let the comments of the Captain and Master-at-Arms go as if they fell on deaf ears, though a smile did creep on his face as he thought about how unlike a reverend he was... He finished his soup and biscuit, poured more tea to wash it all down.

"Dunno how 'e does it, but I hope Mr. Gage does as goode when we reach th' bottom o' th' stores..."

He pushed back in his chair, "Shall I go hunt up Mr. Flint? As he ain't showed hisself and I do believe th' change o' th' watch shoulda brought 'im forth... I'll take a wander 'bout belowdecks ta see th' demenor o' th' rest o' th' crew as well, hope th' weather ain't got 'em down..."

He then rolled his shoulders and stiffled a belch. "Pardon..."

[Silkie McDonough]

She may have slept in the chair, for in what seemed to be the next instant; she was aware of movement in the room before she opened her eyes. The room was a full of activity as the surgery ward became a private bath for the grubby women. Murin gratefully accepted the surgeon’s gift with a dry smile. She lifted the soap cake to her nose breathed in. The surgeon had no idea that this small gift was a luxury that Murin had not had in nearly three years. “Ana?” she queried. Ana’s eyes opened slowly. “Ana, we ken wersh in fresh wurm wawter” Ana looked blankly around the room as Murin moved the chair she had been sitting on beside the ‘tub’ for balance and convenience and placed the precious soap on the seat. Returning to Ana she took the Lady’s hands “Come now.” Murin coxed her to her feet and guided her to the ‘tub’. Ana moved as if asleep, yet she moved as a lady still, gliding gracefully even in this state.

Murin helped the younger lady remove her tattered garments and dropped the once fine fabric to the floor. Using the chair for balance Ana stepped into the warm water. After a moment Murin handed her a soft cloth and the cake of soap. Ana managed a soft weak smile and began to wash.

Murin was use to the wait. She had been waiting on far too many people for far too many years now! But, this was a different situation; Ana was not well and needed assistance. She had not been demanding or demeaning to Murin while on the island. Yes, there were times when Ana’s requests would sound like orders but after a few days Murin realized that was not the case, the lady was always quick with her gratitude. Ana was very much like the Lady of the house where Murin had been working. Misses Andrew Hodge. Mrs. Hodge, Kate to her husband, would come into the room where Murin was working and start to chat …at her to begin with. There were no other ladies at the mansion and Murin was the only lass in the house near the young mistress’s age. Mrs. Hodge eventually began conversing with Murin and had even begun to teach her to read and write. Murin had a rudimentary grasp of the written word and was able to write her name and the alphabet by the time she was sent from the house and banished to the fields. No, Ana was not a demanding master but a friend born out of extreme circumstances, as was Kate.

[Capt. Lazarus Gage]

The galley had been very busy as of late and the surge in activity was a welcome site. A busy galley means a good cook and as a man that takes pride in his work I have been happy to see the results of my work enjoyed. The hours spent fishing with my father when I was a boy had resulted in tremendously good catches and everything seemed to be running rather smooth in my small wooden world of pots and pans. Since there was a momentary lull in work at the moment I poured myself a cup of tea and sat down to relax for a spell. My thoughts turned to the survivors now on board, “Wasn’t long ago I was plucked from the sea….” I thought to myself out load. If there’s a moment later I think I will go check upon the contents of my chest, it always seemed to cheer me up……

[William Brand]

July 18, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Just after four bells of the Second Watch

They spoke at length on many subjects great and small and two bells came and went while they discussed the matters of McCormick, fortifications and the Ilex treasure they hoped to discover the following day. Miss Smith had long ago cleared the crockery from the ward room table when Mister Lasseter's prompting brought them full circle to Flint and Jonas.

William dismissed the Quartermaster and Master-at-Arms to their respective duties and waited for the able seaman to arrive.