The Watch Dog

[Silkie McDonough]

"Aye sah. The Shirts, waist coats and slops are being produced on the Dog. Meg is occupying all of her time sewing. Patrick and several others have been assigned to assist. Captain Brand has relieved me of duty to allow my hand to heal. I am beginning to wonder if it shall ever heal." She exhaled in exasperation. Mister Pew smiled. "D'hats were promised for the morrow. D'leather work is progressing a bit slowly doh."

Mister Pew coughed. Murin's expression turned to one of concern"How er y'sah?"

[Pew]

"Better. Get a bits dizzy y' know standin' an' walkin' about. Damn shore legs." She looked at me funny for a second and then smiled almost into a full laugh.

"'T sure 'asn't changed ya sah," Silkie laughed.

[Silkie McDonough]

She liked this man and was comfortable with him. "Are ya wontin anyting sah?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aboard the Heron

William allowed a pause for her to answer, but then took it back all at once.  "Captain, I leave you to your patient.  I must go and secure some safeguards for her protection."  He left the room and his departure was abrupt.

At William’s swift departure, an annoyed look crossed Dorian’s face. He held up a finger as if to say, ‘Wait here’, and exited as swiftly. He caught up with William just before he reached the waist.

“Cap’n Brand, a word…”

Dorian had never addressed William in such an abrupt manner. William stopped and faced the Captain of the Heron with a nonplused look on his face.

“Leave wot must be done with the Leftenant to me. I have th’ proper documents, and am not worried, even if ‘e brings ‘is superior. Ready th’ ‘Dog fer yer guests, put it out o’ yer mind.”

Captain Brand stood a moment and took a slow breath in. He knew Dorian was a capable man, and could handle the situation. He gave a brief smile.

“I know you can handle this situation. Just one more thing piled on top of so many others.”

He was going to say more, but Dorian put a hand on his shoulder.

“William… See ta yer ship and crew… I’ll see ta mine and we’ll dine richer men this evenin’… “

William chuckled and Dorian did as well. He nodded and headed over the side into the Samson, where he was ferried over to the Frigate. Dorian watched him go and waited til he had gained the deck before moving. First he spoke with Mister Tucker, had the Heron’s jollywatt kept at the ready. All the men were still at general quarters, and were to remain that way until further notice as he knew just as William had said that Lieutenant Turcotte would be back and with a vengeance. He walked around the deck and found the new men brought aboard. He addressed each separately and told them to go stow their gear in the galley for the moment. Once they all had done so, one parcel was left on deck. It could only belong to one person, Miss Ashcombe, so Dorian picked it up and took it with him to the Ward Room, informing the Bo’sun to alert him when, not if, but when a boat departed again from the Fort. The Captain entered the Wardroom and shut the door behind him. Miss Ashcombe sat as she was left and looked at him with a calmness on her face. He held fourth the parcel.

“I believe this’ yers, Miss?”

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Bill arranged for his parcels to be sent over to the Heron. He turned to Treasure.

"Well Miss Tribbiani? Where to now? A bit of repast? Or shall we pay a call to Mr. Pew?"

He followed her gaze out the window and spied the two hoodlums from the market hanging about. He sighed and shifted the tomahawk in his belt so it would be more close to hand when the time came.

[Black Syren]

His words drew her from her reverie and she smiled as she looked over her shoulder and arched a brow as she caught him adjusting his tomahawk. Immediately the tailor stiffened assuming trouble was to come and she spun slowly before moving from the window. ‘I think Mr. Pew. I am sure he is climbing walls and ready to be aboard the Dog once more.’ As he moved closer to her she placed her fingers upon his sleeve and as he drew her from the shop back into the afternoon sunshine she felt giddy.

All about them people moved busy with work if they were servants or merchants. Higher class citizens shopping and mixing with the nobility. It was totally different than the WatchDog and yet the same. As they walked she felt eyes upon them and knew it was the pair from earlier and felt a moments irritation that they would dare intrude upon their shore leave. She had to bite her tongue to keep a blistering set down behind her teeth and slowly count to ten before she felt Bill’s glance upon her. Tilting her face up to him she was about to speak when he began to laugh. “I have a feeling the pair behind us will soon encounter a hurrican’.”

The mood was lightened by his words and her husky laugh floated free and she could not resist teasing him back “Either that or scalping.” She said referring to his weapon. “Do you remember where Mr. Pew is currently lodged?”

[BriarRose Kildare]

After watching Murin go up the stairs, BriarRose went in to the kitchen to boil water for the foot soak. After placing a large pot of water to boil on the fire she dug out a large basin. Going back in to the front room she opened up her apothecary box to sort through the herbs she would use for the foot soak, poultice, ointment and ingredients for a tea to help ease the pain.

Mandrake sat by the kitchen hearth watching his mistress as she sorted through her herbs. Once she had decided on the herbs to use she segregated them in to categories. For the foot soak she placed a mix of yarrow, horsetail and lavender in to the pot of water that was now boiling. After a moment of thought she went to the cupboard and got out a potato. Peeling the potato, BirarRose cut it in to pieces squeezing the juice out in to the boiling water. Then she added a bit of sea salt to finish off the foot soak she would use for Murin’s ankle.

Next she got out her mortar and pestle and crushed up a mixture of thyme and fleur-de-lys. Taking out a small pot she added honey to the mixture creating an ointment that she would have Murin use for her ankle once the swelling had gone down.

Humming to herself, BriarRose smiled as she continued working. Her mother and grandmother had taught many secrets on healing. Her childhood was filled fleetingly with happy memories as she thought of all the lessons she had learned from them both.

Next she placed mustard seed, tobacco and plantain in to her mortar. She crushed the ingredients until they made a fine powder. She would wait to add the vinegar until it was time to place the poultice upon Murin’s ankle.

Mandrake continued watching his mistress as she worked. Her movements and humming seemed to soothe him and he soon began to doze by the fire.

Pursing her rosy red lips, BriarRose, thought on what tea mixture to make to ease the pain and discomfort as Murin’s ankle healed. Obviously the young lass had not had it taken care of very well. Going through her apothecary box she took out her bottle of poppy seeds, jasmine, rosehips and a bit of ginger. Once again she placed the mixture of herbs in her mortar after she had wiped it out and began crushing the mixture. She made enough for several cups of tea.

Once done, she went over to the pot of boiling water and herbs and she placed the concoction in to the large basin she had found. She would give it a bit of time to cool before having Murin come back down to soak her foot and ankle. While she waited for the mixture to cool a bit she cleaned up the table and closed her box. She decided to make a pot of tea in the hopes of relaxing her new patient. While she waited for the new pot of water to boil, BriarRose got out two cups, tea and sugar.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Ward Room of the Heron

At first it was a relief when the last of her inquisitors had exited, holding up a gesture assuring his return. As time passed, longer than she expected, Jenny was left to wonder that they were above deciding her fate. She closed her eyes and listened but could discern nothing between the muffled voices, many footfalls and the creaking of the ship as it rocked on it's anchor. She breathed deeply with deliberate slowness should the dizziness return. A measure of calm instead returned and she surveyed the room once again. It was pleasant enough. Sparse, but comfortable. There were no weapons in sight. It was a brief distraction. Yet as the moments seemed to crawl she again became consumed in scenarios of what may take place...what had taken place. Jenny groaned in protest to what would surely become bruises from her fall. Shifting her weight on the canvas and wood, she moved her legs over the side of the cot. Footsteps sounded near the door and Miss Ashcombe stilled just about to step to the floor and try her balance.

The door opened letting in sunlight around Captain Lasseter. Jenny narrowed her eyes against the brighness and looked past him for soldiers but there were none. Instead he carried a parcel. Chills ran up her arms as she remembered the purse. Everything had just begun to come back into focus. How could she have forgotten! "“I believe this’ yers, Miss?” She steeled herself not to lunge for the parcel and feel immediately for the purse and one other item wrapped within clothing and small sundries. "Ashcombe.." she answered quietly as he laid the bag next to her. "Thank You. Sir, I.." Her mind went blank. She'd been thinking of what to say, expected questions, demands. But as he stood nearby waiting she could think of nowhere to start. Each statement in her mind seemed frought with the danger of revealing too much or causing suspicion. "I'm sorry Sir, to have tasked you with my care. I don't know what happened. But I thank you for seeing to my injuries" She focused on his face trying to discern what his thoughts might be. His next question. Whether he would lash out in anger, or hold her in high suspicion. Yet his expression was calm. Jenny prayed the Captain wouldn't search her belongings.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Captain Lasseter studied Miss Ashcombe a moment after she thanked him. He nodded slowly.

“Yer quite welcome… looks like you were either hit wi’ a sweep, or musket… Shouldn’t take too long ta heal then.”

Again he unhooked his pistol from his belt and lay it on the table. Running his fingers through his hair as he walked the length of the room, he looked out the stern windows across the bay and wondered how soon the Lieutenant would return. He saw some gathering of men at the wharf, a glint of sunlight off something shiny amongst them. Turning back to the young woman he smiled as it seemed she watched his every move. He walked back to where she sat and pulled his chair over and sat as well.

“Miss Ashcombe, I need some questions answered as ye may well know… Ya say Miss McDonough was escortin’ ye… Yet she ain’t here… and, she does not have the authority ta be sendin’ people off one ship an’ on to another, on’y the officer o’ th’ deck does. I know ya don’t understand th’ protocols aboard ships, but…”

He was unsure how to proceed, and left his unfinished sentence hang there, hoping she might fill in the blanks.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Miss Ashcombe stared at him blankly for a moment. She had followed his pacing across the room, looking for any clues to the man, his motives or his mood. But he was quite plain in his demeanor. Jenny began to understand given her treatment by both Captains despite their being thrust into this most unexpected of circumstances, why the crew and Miss McDonough clearly respected their superiors. These were fair men. Clearly capable of as much force as forethought. But able to balance both it seemed from what little she had seen. She wondered briefly at Captain Lasseters experiences as he waited for an answer.

Murin..she had to protect the gerl who had done so much for her with little thanks. "Captain, Miss McDonough has been very kind to me. She took me to see Captain Brand yesterday and as he was elsewhere when we learned there would be visitors" Jennny assumed he must have been ashore to seem so surprised at the goings on "I must defend her in saying I was near hysterical. She acted on my behalf and asked Mr. Franklin to shuttle me across with the two men who were fighting. " The Captain's brow raised at this last statement. Jenny paused and then rushed past fearing she had betrayed more than one person in her explanation. "My Uncle persues me though I am a free woman. I wished to purchase passage away from both him and Martinique" Jenny dropped her head a moment..the wound at her temple robbing her attention. She took a breath and looked back at the man. "Captain, may I trouble you for a small amount of your whiskey? I am in some pain."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian now understood a bit more of why Miss Ashcombe was here and how she was able to come to be aboard the Heron. Reaching over he picked up the glass and bottle, poured another dram and handed it to her. As she drank he thought about what she had just said, the two men come aboard with her had looked battered, but he had guessed it was from the confines of the prison. They were not on his roster given earlier, and those men had yet to be delivered. He slowly stood and excused himself, heading up on deck. There he conversed with Mister Tucker, who, in the excitement had forgotten to hand over two pieces of parchment, both from Mister Franklin. The Captain returned to the Wardroom soon after and headed to the stern windows where he opened the parchments. The first was the authorization by which Miss Ashcombe was given liberty to leave the Watch Dog and board the Heron, the second was the reason why the two men were sent to the Heron. He held up the parchments to the young woman.

“If I had been given these a wee bit earlier… no matter… Now that yer here I’ll keep ya safe until both th’ merchants leave th’ ‘Dog and th’ Leftenant an’ his men leave th’ Heron. I must take care of some, discipline… and I’ll ‘ave more questions when I return.”

Again the Captain took his leave from the Wardroom and headed on deck. He walked forward and found the two new men.

“Misters Coles n’ Leigh…”

“Aye captain, I’m Leigh, he’s Coles.”

“Right… so, ya like a bit o’ fightin’ do ya? Mister Tucker! Once things calm down I have some work fer these two men.”

“Aye Cap’n, Sah!”

Without another word Dorian turned away from the men and headed aft, the Bo’sun in tow.

“Lucky Tuck… those two shall have constant duty on the sweeps o’ the Heron’s jollywatt… I’m hopin’ they weren’t th’ target o’ that assassin, but I’ll be setting a guardboat detail, five men, those two ta row, one ta steer and two as sharpshooters, understood?”

“Aye cap’n.”

With that business taken care of, the Captain headed aft. Stopping abruptly before the door, he turned back to Mister Tucker.

“Better yet, I’ll not wait… Put ‘em in th’ boat now, pick th’ others and send ‘em out wi’ four muskets and a dozen shot n’ powder each.”

Lucky Tuck grinned as he went off to follow orders.

[William Brand]

August 2, 1704 - Aboard the 'Dog

William arrived aboard the 'Dog in short order. Eric Franklin met him amidships and there followed a brief conversation as William first informed Eric of all that had gone on aboard the cutter and then Eric explained the recent happening aboard the frigate. When Eric and William had both come to an understanding regarding Miss Ashcombe's departure, Eric explained the fight which had broken out between Roundtree, Sandefur, Coles and Leigh. William's mood, which had lifted but a little since returning from the Heron, was nailed down hard and fast once more.

"Mister Badger! I want Sandefur and Roundtree in the Ward Room, post haste!" he growled.

"Aye, sah. Right away, sa..."

"Belay that, Mister Badger." William said, and he marched directly to where Francis Roundtree stood at the Forecastle as Eric followed. William called for James Sandefur to join them there and he did, hat in hand.

"Are these the brawlers so recently come aboard, Mister Franklin?" William asked, and he stood so close to Francis that the man leaned back a little.

"Aye, Sah, and brothers the both of them." Eric said, scowling at James.

"HALF-brothers, Sah." Francis corrected.

"HALF-WITS!" William said, correcting Roundtree's correction, his mood returning with force, and whether Roundtree had meant this as an insubordination or not, William was glad to vent some of his recent anger on someone. "Autem-cacklers and ungrateful gutlings!"

"Sah..." Roundtree began.

"WHAT?" William shouted. "What is it, Missster Roundtree?"

"Sah!" Roundtree returned, snapping to attention, his tone repentant.

"Think not to correct Mister Franklin in the course of his duties!" William spat. "Shall I have Eric crack you about the noggle to remind you of your place?"

"No, sah." Roundtree said, any sign of defiance blasted clean away from his demeanor.

"And you, Mister Sandefor?" William said, turning on James so suddenly that he might have fallen over. "Will three days aloft in a nightshirt be enough to satisfy your taste for fists and foolishness?"

"Beg pardon, Sah. Won't 'appen again , Sah."

William looked at Sandefur a long, long time until he was quite convinced that the man understood his disapproval in full. He did the same to Roundtree. When he was certain that neither man had cause to take him lightly regarding such behavior on the 'Dog, he turned to Eric. "Mister Franklin, set a watch of two men in the spritsail topmast yard." William finished, his tone almost conversational again. "A nightshirt and whistle each." He added.

"Aye, Sah."

"Think you that you can find two volunteers, Mister Franklin?" William said, narrowing his eyes at the two men before him.

"I think so, Sah." Eric said, smiling wickedly.

Five bells of the Afternoon Watch

~Starboard Watches on Duty~

[Dorian Lasseter]

Fort Royal

The Young Lieutenant had been to his superiors and after some not so delicate conversation, got his papers to board and search the Heron. He marched at a quick pace with a wiry grin of victory and as he passed his men whom he had left standing on the parade ground he signaled them to follow. Back down to the wharf and into the boats. The body of the man who’s initials were H P had been put into their barracks with his belongings and all but forgotten. The marines aboard and the Lieutenant in the bow, he ordered them out onto the bay, “to board and search that ship”. Many of his men held back a groan because they felt they knew as much as they would already. This ‘search and seizure’ mission was just to satisfy the Lieutenants’ ego. But orders were orders and they bent to the sweeps and away they went.

Aboard the Heron

Robert Johnson was up on the lookout perch and was spending more time looking at the fort than at the surrounding bay. He watched the Jollywatt being rowed around the Heron and did not pity the crew aboard. Styles and Roche sat with muskets upright while John Black sat at the tiller and the two new men rowed. Motion at the wharf caught his eye and using the glass to be sure he saw the marines from the fort returning. There in the bow as proud as a peacock stood the lieutenant. Johnson called down to the deck that a boat was on approach. He also heard voices on the Watch Dog, probably voicing the same.

[William Brand]

August 2, 1704 - Aboard the 'Dog

William was just settling into the Ward Room when a knock came. Patrick Hand put his head in at the door.

"Sah, Mister Badger wishes you to know that Captain Lasseter has put a boat in the water armed with marines on patrol."

"Thank you Mister Hand."

William went about some small bits of business, adding the names of the newest recruits to the Watch Dog. This took him more time than expected, owing to his exactness in penmanship and the order of the ledgers. The task of recording names was almost complete when a second knock came at the door. Patrick Hand appeared once more in the doorway.

"Pardon, Sah. There's a boat bound for the Heron loaded with Frenchies of the Fort."

"Thank you, Mister Hand. Inform Mister Badger that I will be up presently."

Six Bells of the Afternoon Watch

~Starboard Watches on Duty~

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aboard the Heron

After having the Bo’sun assign some men to a guardboat, the Captain was going to head back to the Ward Room to continue finding out what all Miss Ashcombe might know of the recent events. He was about to head below when a thought occurred to him. That ‘damned lieutenant’ would be back and Dorian was sure it would be soon. He was sure even if he didn’t have papers to board the Heron, he would find a reason or way to come aboard. Instead of going back to the Ward Room, he headed around the ship and scrutinized everything, every man. He last found himself in the small galley where Miss Moore was having a time chopping, no, hacking up a haunch of beef. It looked like with every swing of the cleaver she expected a return blow from an adversary. It would almost be comical, if he hadn’t realized that she was preparing the next meal for the crew and himself. William had sent over a Mister Marsh, the former cook of the Heron, who as soon as time permitted would be the cook once again, along with another man William had mentioned. He was going to interrupt her from her work, but decided against it and made his way up onto deck again. Again he made his way aft to the Ward Room, only to have the lookout hail that a boat was on approach from the fort. The Lieutenant was returning, sooner than Dorian expected. But most everything was ready. He only had to decide how to address Miss Ashcombe.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Jenny had accepted the drink with a weak smile, bringing it hastily to her lips with both hands hoping to dull the renewed pain. She closed her eyes and drank deeply coughing once at the bite of the dark malt. Captain Laseter chuckled "Easy Miss, t' will do th trick soon enough." She covered her mouth with one hand and looked at him her brow wrinkled, eyes scrunched, stifling a second cough.

The Captain took his leave once more to deal with new recruits, indicating he would again return. Jenny understood enough that the commotion of late would bring perhaps as many inquisitors as bells that rang in the harbor alerting officials to the fracas around the Heron. It was the last thing she remembered before waking in the care of Miss Moore. Fearing being turned over to authorities, she lowered herself stiffly to the floor and turned for her parcel. At that moment the Captain re entered the Ward Room.

[Bloody Bill Flint]

"I believe he's at the Surgeon's house" said Bill and together they stepped from the shop. They hadn't gone far when they were accosted. Bill and Treasure heard and smelled them approaching long before the first one spoke. Instinctively they knew it was the two hoodlums who'd been following them most of the day. Then the voice from behind spoke.

"What do you suppose we have here Claude?"* asked the first

Bill immediately whirled and faced down the two men who were little more than boys actually.

"I'm sure I don't know Pierre, mayhaps a couple of song birds" replied his companion

"Agreed," said Pierre, "But they don't seem to welcome our company, I think they want to fly away."

"Oh but they can't" said Claude "Those purses are too hefty for them, let's do them a favor and help them unburden themselves"

"Oh yes, do let's" replied the first and they both drew daggers from their sleeves

"It occurs to me that the little one's feathers will fetch a pretty penny in the market, we should take those as well" said Claude

" We're not looking for trouble" said Bill

" No, but trouble has found you", replied Pierre "Now you just be quiet fancy man and you won't be hurt, of course I cannot promise the same for your lady friend here" and he reached for Treasure.

With that Flint sprang into action. He drew the hatchet from his belt and held it low on the handle. He brought the haft down with tremendous force across Pierre's forearm. There was a sickening crack of bone as the boy's arm bent in two at a most unnatural angle. The brigand barely had time to scream in pain before Bill stepped into him and drove and elbow into his jaw, shattering it. Flint then took a half step back and brought the tomahawk up, hooking it's beard behind Pierre's neck. He used this as a grapple to pull the would-be robber into Bill's waiting knee, which connected soundly with Pierre's testicles. The thief doubled over, clutching his ruined manhood, and began to retch himself. Bill took the opportunity and delivered a backhand blow with his free hand to the side of Pierre's head which lifted the hoodlum off his feet and deposited him on his back unconscious. Flint swiveled to face his adversary's accomplice who stood agape in horror at what had just transpired.

"Well?" Flint growled.

*translated from the French

[Dorian Lasseter]

The Ward Room of the Heron

As Dorian opened the door to the Ward Room, he saw Miss Ashcombe kneeling on the deck. He hesitated not knowing what she was doing and then thought maybe she was unwell. He quickly made his way to her and was about to lay hands one her and help her back into the cot. As he knelt he saw she was opening her parcel. She turned to him at that moment and took in a shocked breath, being so close.

“I beg yer pardon Miss… I thought ye were in a faint or some such…”

He slowly stood and held out a hand to her.

“Please, let me help you up… “

She took his hand and rose, sitting back on the cot.

“Thank you, captain. I was just seeing to my things.”

He nodded and smiled, moving to his desk table. He cleared away the papers and put them in the drawer. Moving the glass and bottle to the top of the cabinet they came from, he offered up the table to her.

“Please, use th’ table, not th’ floor fer such. I would ask ye be quick as th’ Leftenant is on approach. No doubt with papers or a superior with a wish to board us. I… to make things easier for you… and to explain you in here… I’ll be calling you my Steward… for appearance sake… I’m hopin’ yer wound will permit th’ removal o’ th’ bandage for a time…”

He waited for her response, waiting patiently, yet knowing the boat full of marines would be upon them soon.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Ward Room of the Heron

Jenny started, drawing in breath as the door of the Heron's Ward Room creaked again, though less abruptly. She attempted to rise faltering a bit from the ships gentle rolling and her own still unsteady condition. Or perhaps the whiskey. Captain Lasseter rushed towards her kneeling down just as she was about to expose that which was hiddin with her clothing and sundries. Jenny gasped again fearing as he reached towards her that he would discover her secret. That all would be lost against new questions which had no explanation planned. Realizing she was not ill, the Captain merely extended a hand and helped her back to the cot. He offered the table for her parcel and lifted it there. As he did so he spoke, relieving Jenny's worry about being turned over to the French authorities. I’ll be calling you my Steward… for appearance sake… I’m hopin’ yer wound will permit th’ removal o’ th’ bandage for a time…” Jenny breathed out comfortably for the first moment since crossing the cul de sac. She would be protected..she would leave Martinique. She understood the form of cover she was to take. "Steward?.. I shall do my best Sir, I don't know all of the duties one would have. I am not unfamiliar with the term, though I do understand your purpose." She reached a hand to the bandages so recently placed. Struggled with the wrapping a moment, wincing at her clumsiness with a wound only hours healing and sighed dropping her hands to her sides "I will need help with removing this, I may reopen the wound if I am not able to see what I am doing." She sat very still and hoped she could conceal her nerves now and amidst men of the garrison. The pain had subsided again to a dull ache and she hoped it would fare well enough once unbandaged.

[Silkie McDonough]

Ashore at the Surgeon O'Treasaigh’s

Preston Pew and Murin McDonough spoke about yesterday’s rain, the recruits from the prison and exchanged light banter. Mister Pew seemed to be well but far from recovered. She could see him weakening during her visit. Miss McDonough was torn between departing his company to allow him rest and the knowledge that the scents wafting from the floor below were from remedies meant for her. She did not fault Miss Kildaire for her wish to ease her pain but the pain was not unbearable, this happened on a regular basis, she was use to it. She sighed as the conversation waned. “Well I suppose I should leave you to your rest. …Miss Kildaire is going out of her way to ease d'pain in my ankle…”

“Your ankle pain?” Preston interrupted in surprise then coughed. “I though it was your hand that was the problem.”

“Dat ulso. I slipped in d’rain yestaday. I know she means well buot I nil wish to spend m’time ashore wit m’foot in a bath.” She sighed once again. “I wonder ow long she’ill have me soaking er whatnot.” Mister Pew let out a sympathetic laugh followed immediately by a coughing attack. “Well sah um tinkin det signals d’end uv m’business ere. Ya should lay back n’rest sah.” She moved to his bedside to help him lay back into the pillows, to her surprise he did not object. She pulled the bed linens over him and turned to leave. The bell in the church tower struck the time, Mister Pew mumbled something about her limp. Murin did not ask him to repeat himself for she was sure he was asleep before she reached the hallway. She had stayed far too long. Pulling the door closed behind her quietly she resigned herself to accept Miss Kildaire’s ministrations.

[Pew]

Aboard the Heron

Luc stood at the bow for moment. He watched as another compliment of French marines, in addition to the first longboat full made the way quickly to the Heron. Luc walked back to the stern and knocked on the now ajar Ward Room door.

"Pahdon zir, Capitain Lazzeter, da Leftenant eez ready to make board," Luc struggled to explain, "Zir, permezzion to stay aboard zee Heron?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

Ward Room of the Heron

A slow smile spread on Dorian’s face as Miss Ashcombe agreed to play along with the ruse necessary. He stepped closer and gently began unwrapping the bandage around her head. Getting down to the end, the wound had stopped bleeding and would remain hidden under her hair. However, she needed a head covering of some sort. As he was thinking on this, a knock came and Luc passed word that the Lieutenant was just off the side. He also asked permission to stay aboard.

“Thank you, Luc… Tell Mister Tucker to not let him aboard until I am ready. I’ll be up soon enough. As for you stayin’ aboard… For th’ present you ‘ave no choice… As fer later, I’ll discuss it wi’ Cap’n Brand, if yer meanin’ ta crew on th’ Heron.”

Luc saluted and was gone to report to the Bo’sun. Dorian turned his attention back to the quandary of what head covering was to be had for Miss Ashcombe. She was presently dressed as a sailor, however she was to be indoors. They would just have to do without.

“As you’ve heard, th’ Frogs, er French officer n’ marines ‘r back… Tidy up in ‘ere and stow yer things… in th’ stern bench, there… Be at ease on th’ bench. If, or when we come in, act as, well, my servant… Offer a drink, there be some good French wine in th’ cabinet an’ goblets. Just be calm, we’ll make it through this easy enough.”

He winked with a grin, took up his fine coat and hat, sling the empty scabbard across his shoulder and placed his pistol in his belt and went out the door, making sure it was secured properly as he left. As he came on deck, Mister Tucker was leaning over the rail, having words with Lieutenant Turcotte as he bobbed in his boat over the side.

2 August, 1704, Saturday

Seven bells of the Afternoon Watch

[Black Syren]

Treasure had no time to react, it seemed all moved in slow motion, one moment daggers pulled and the shorter one moved at her and the next Bill was bringing one of the accosters down. The second assailant or would be seemed to weigh his options, Bill was quick and he had made a mistake in that regards. He was down a man but the thought of the purses and the jewelry would salve his pride.

He shifted slightly to let his eyes rove over the lady his gaze insolent and leering “Ill be seein’ ye around Guv.” And without he shifted back into the shadows. He would bide his time and later he would have their purses and more.

As the man seemingly disappeared she caught Bill’s arm as he made to follow. “No. Did you not see his look, he has others about. Besides this one will hurt no one else. Think you we should report this?” already a small crowd was drawing near, mutters in french quick to go out. Not knowing any French herself she could only assume what was being said.

“Facciavi c'è ne parlano italiano? Siamo stati attacati appena.” She disliked crowds, especially crowds such as this where anything could happen next.

*Do any of you speak Italian? We were just attacked!”

[William Brand]

August 2, 1704 - Aboard the Heron

Lieutenant Turcotte surrendered his papers to Tucker who in turn surrendered them to Captain Lasseter. Turcotte was made to wait in the boat while the two men perused the documents before them. The papers contained several signatures, each of them sufficient to allow the young officer and his men access to the Heron. Still, Dorian was compelled to read them more than once. He did so, not to delay the Lieutenant, but to thoroughly understand what permissions were granted in the letters. Then he invited Turcotte to join him on deck. Lieutenant Turcotte came aboard with as much measured grace and with a casual air of jurisdiction as the document allowed him. He exchanged greetings with both Captain Lasseter and Christopher Tucker. He was neither abrupt or rude, having been sternly cautioned by his superiors not to exaggerate the matter beyond the facts. Their words on the situation were these...

"Bring the matter to a quiet close."

~Starboard Watches on Duty~

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aboard the Heron

With the Lieutenant aboard and pleasantries exchanged, there came a pause in the conversation. Dorian clasped his hands behind his back and smiled politely. Finally, He could not remain quiet.

“So, Leftenant… Wot can’ I do fer you?”

Turcotte slightly narrowed his eyes before speaking.

“I ave returned to find what appened ere… Who was shot? There was blood in your ships’ boat.”

Dorian furrowed his brow and looked at his Bo’sun

“Someone was shot? Shot at, mayhaps, and the shooter himself, as you know was shot by my men and those of the Watch Dog and possibly another ship. And there wasn’t any blood in my ships’ boat. See for your self.”

With that Captain Lasseter headed over to the side and called out to the Guardboat, having them bring it to the side of the Heron to allow its inspection. Turcotte himself climbed down into it and looked, even getting on his knees and sticking fingernails into cracks trying to find any blood, assuming it had been wiped away. He stood and straightened his uniform, shooting a venomous look at the Marine who said there had been blood on the boat before he made his way back aboard the ship.

“I…. see… there is no blood, or evidence there was…. My…apologies…”

“Oh, think nothin’ of it Leftenant… Is there more you’d like ta see?”

Turcotte stood and thought for some time, all the while Dorian stood with a neutral expression, waiting.