The Watch Dog

[Dorian Lasseter]

Upon leaving the wardroom, the Quartermaster returned to his cabin, checked his damp clothing to see how they were, then rearranged his weaponry about his person, returning the two dragoon pistols to his sea chest for the present.

He then made his way forward and below decks, he greeted the crew who were off duty, chatting amiably with one or two, gauging their spirits. All seemed well enough as the story of the hidden fortune of Lady Ilex was passed about the men. The dream of easy riches made any hardship a bit easier to deal with among these seamen. Mr. Lasseter cautioned the ones he spoke to that they didn't know the extent of this fortune until it was found, as a point of fact, it might not be big enough to make even one man rich.

He continued through the berthing spaces and up through the forecastle. He stood at the break in the deck and peered out into the gloom as the rain continued to fall. He thought to cross the waist to get back aft, but the idea of adding a second set of wet clothes to the line in his cabin made him choose an alternate route. He headed back down below the way he came, returned to his quarters and donned his oilskins for another stand on watch.

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin continued to relive those days spent with Kate while she waited. Ana’s gentle touch brought her back to the ward room. Ana, looking less exhausted, had finished her bath and it was now her turn.

Murin stood and peeled off the damp and grimy shirt that landed with a mild ‘thwack’ as it hit the floor, then added the breeches and rope belt to the pile. Placing her hand on the back of the chair for balance she stepped into the barrel. The warm water stung the burnt skin but the warmth was welcome. She washed quickly but gently, unsuccessfully trying to get the dry peeling skin off without hurting the burn. The soft scent of the perfumed soap washed away many of the fears and toils of the past few weeks …she felt alive again. The thought came to her with renewed vigor, like a flash of lightning, I am FREE AGAIN! A smile that could have lit up a room brightened her tired features. I am alive! The warm soapy water seemed to be washing away more than the grime the bonds that kept her from living her life were gone also! She used the soap from head to toe; this is a new beginning, a new life! The how and the where were of no consequence that would come later. Today she could fly if she had wings! She stepped from the tub a free woman, the woman she was so many short years ago.

She dried and donned the fresh shift. The comforting scent of cedar caressed her senses as the shift dropped over her head. The seams of the light linen garment scratched the burn on her shoulders but it was not so painful that she could not bear it. She padded to the door of the surgeons quarters and knocked. “Ductor Fitzgerald, We’ve finished.”

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Bill Flint was staring intently at the shore line scanning for any signs of unatural goings on, for a moment he hearkend back to that night of his youth so long ago along the Black River north of Salem. There had been at least a hundred war parties in the woods that night, Huron and Mohawk. The men hunting each other in earnest. The great war leader Ongeswasgone had taught Billy many of the lessons that would save his life that night. The one that mattered most was the proverb Ongeswasgone often repeated while they hunted "The Sun will lie to you, but the Moon always tells the truth". Bill had always wondered at it's meaning until that night. His party was lurking down a game trail when he suddenly felt eyes upon him, looking at a hedgerow he realized it's shadow was far too large for it's size and the positon of the moon. Firing his musket into the bushes he was ready rewarded with a cry and a gurgling noise as a Huron warrior stumbled forward clutching his neck. The rest of the Mohawks quickly followed suit and avoided the ambush the enemy had laid for them. Bill shook himself from his thoughts and found his watch at an end. Remembering Captain Brand wanted to see him he hurried to the armoury oiled and turned in his musket and proceeded to the ward room. He knocked at the door and remained outside until bidden to enter. When the command came he walked smartly inside removing his cap and saluted.

"Ye be wantin' te see me Cap'n?"

[William Brand]

"Aye, Mister Flint." William said, looking up from his own personal logbook. He gestured to a chair opposite him at the table, then he went back to scribbling while Mister Flint took a seat. Miss Smith placed a cup of tea in front of Mister Flint and then she retired from the room.

What followed was a long silence as William continued to write. A great many events had transpired in the last few days and William had been unable to record them all. Now they were spilling off the quill as fast as he could write them down and he meant to excise them all before any details were lost. Deaths, rescues, farewells, and revelations all found their way to the page as Mister Flint was made to wait in the quiet room. Finally he set the quill aside, shook a sander full of pounce over the newly penned pages and blew off the remainder.

"Mister Flint..." he began, setting the book aside, "...I have several matters to discuss with you about your time aboard this ship. Let me begin by expressing my appreciation to you for accepting the many responsibilities required of you since you came aboard. Your efforts in the armory have not gone unnoticed."

"Jus' doin' my duty, Cap'n."

William nodded and a second brief silence followed.

"Mister Flint...it cannot have escaped your notice, having come so recently from a frigate of the Royal Navy, that the Watch Dog is undermanned. Therefore, your arrival has come as a blessing laced with unexpected blights. Gaultier, for all of his poisons both literal and symbolic, was an enemy whose purpose was written for all to see. There could be no question about that man. The man in the cable tier is an altogether different matter. He is imprisoned for actions which cannot be ignored..." William paused and smiled a moment. "...though, taken against the rest of the crimes the crew has brought aboard, his trespasses seem somewhat small. Give me your opinion of the man, Mister Flint. Can the man be pursuaded to join us or no?"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

She dried and donned the fresh shift.  The comforting scent of cedar caressed her senses as the shift dropped over her head.  The seams of the light linen garment scratched the burn on her shoulders but it was not so painful that she could not bear it.  She padded to the door of the surgeons quarters and knocked.  “Ductor Fitzgerald, We’ve finished.”

Jacquelyn's goblet hovered betwixt table and lips when the hailing of muffed bearing sounded with accompanying rap. Raphael glanced to the heavy door from usual high backed perch and cocked one brow half a degree in response before focusing on companion. The vin vessle was placed in empty ink well surround for secure keeping and the doorway approached. The Surgeon cast a fleeting look to Chanault then passed through onto connecting chamber.

The difference in the duo was like that of night to day, hidden beneath layers of soiled shrouding were two young woman of fair face. Through the guantlet of shared toils were evident, none could say that their combined features were not without certain complimentry aspects and the Surgeon smiled in witness to the transformation.

"Well, well...I can venture to say that you both must be feeling a world better than you had not thrity minutes ago." A second visual survey was given with a nod of approval. "The adornments seem to serve well...Now, let us see about that meal I had promised."

Jacquelyn opened the door she had just entered from, speaking in native tongue briefly then returning it to secured position.

"Monsieur Chanault is checking with the Galley, I will say it should be a matter of minutes and dinner shall be served. As much as I would love to offer some hearty affaire, it is only wise to start small with what you have both endured. Have patience, as the days continue forward, so shall the offering of appetite become more fitting."

The deep emerald sights drifted to far wall and vacant hanging cots, "A quick meal, than much needed rest I do think...after your discomforts have been tended to, of course."

[Bloody Bill Flint]

The swiftness with which Mr. Flint's mood darkened was almost palpable in the room. For a moment it seemed as if the candles grew a touch dimmer. His mouth set in a grim line and his brows came together like the two pillars of rock that had threatened the Argo in that long ago search for the fleece.

"If it be my decision I say over the side wit 'im and leave him fer the sharks"

He pronouced the word charks with the second syllable sounding more like a drawn out growl than actual letters.

"But," he ammended "I figures I dun worse than the likes o' him".

"If'n he'll agree te serve ye I promise no harm'll come te him, on that ye have me word Cap'n".

"As fer if'n he will, hard te say it be. He be a right goodnavigator n' a sharp eyed look out as any, useless in a boardin', ....ah listen te me carryin' on like an old biddie, I'd say he'd proly do jes' te get out o' that cable tier."

[LadyBarbossa]

Tired but feeling a bit refreshed, she gave the woman surgeon a weak smile. Her damp, limp wavy brunette locks cascading down over her fresh attire and shoulders.

"Thank you, most kindly, Ms Fitzgerald," was all she mustered at this point in time. No point in going long winded. She'd have to save the gratitude for the Captain.

Her attire was nothing fancy with what she was use to but it was covering her and comfortable enough compared to her once lovely now ragged gown.

Glancing at Murin a moment, then around the room. Crossing her arms, she awaited for their feast... granted it was going to be small... but, it was a feast nonetheless. It was something better than what they had eaten in the past 3 weeks.

And oh, how she dreamed of a fine roast bird with some other tastey delight or a sweet. Her life as a Lady with servants awaiting her hand and foot... even the future appearing that way... how bland was that? Stranded on the isle for 3 weeks broke her and made her.

This future wife of a Colonel of His Majesty was considering how her life would be until she died.

For now... she just wanted to eat.. and then rest. Decent sleep would be nice.

[William Brand]

July 18, 1704 - The Ward Room of the Watch Dog

First Bell of the First Watch

"Your opinion of Mister McCormick is so noted, Mister Flint, and your candor in the matter is greatly appreciated. I will consider on the matter and make a decision."

Then William fetched the bottle that he had shared before with the other officers. He placed two small glasses upon the Ward Room table. He poured the heady liquid into the cups with steady hands, compensating for their progress across the polished surface as the shifting tide around La Blanquilla rocked the Watch Dog. Mister Flint stopped his glass before it could drift too far from center, and William did the same.

Then the Captain took up his drink, but having no appropriate toast for the occasion, he simply sipped, one hand behind his back. Bill sipped his drink as well. Then William sat down again and turned the conversation to a subject he almost never discussed.

"What news from England, Mister Flint?"

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Redlegs took another sip then answered his captain.

"Not that a colonist such as meself gives two shillings what the powers that be do to each other in the old world, but it's the same old rope as it was a year ago. King Frenchie be dead and the Spanich King says his gran' son Philip be the rightful heir. The Englich fear a contract 'twixt France and Spain so's they suports Leupold."

Bill turned towards the great window at the rear of the ship staring out at the waves and finished his drink.

"Even now all their blasted to do finds it way across the sea to bring blight upon the colonies." he muttered.

[William Brand]

William nodded at this last part, having had some news from the New England Colonies concerning the Abenakis and the French. The northern most colonies were in a constant state of confusion as the super powers played out their games with many native peoples and colonists as pawns.

There was but sparse information on the wars up North, but privateers and navies brought samplings of the conflicts Southward to the Caribbean.

Rumors of war regarding one Benjamin Church and his attacks along Acadian coasts had reached as far South as La Desirade before the Watch Dog had left there. No doubt Beaubassin was the principal objective of those forces. It was a strategic place of trade and power and conflicts had been known there before. The first attack on the Acadians of Beaubassin in 1696 had nearly coincided with William's own misfortunes.

"We go to gain a little patch of ground

That hath in it no profit but the name."*

William refreshed Bill's drink.

*From Shakespeare's Hamlet

[Bloody Bill Flint]

For the second time since he had met Captain Brand, Bill smiled. He finally felt comfortable enough to drop the pretext of being an uneducated common sailor and the rough manner of speech he had adopted to survive aboard the ships of the line after the night that press gang had accosted him.

"Ah, The Bard." His smile beamed a little brighter. "Unfortunately for the good folk of Deerfield the Huron and Acadians cared little for the ground on which the town sat so much as they cared bloody murder and the supplies in the larders."

[William Brand]

"We tread too heavily in countries that have known other grandfathers than ours." William said, taking up the copy of Shakespeare he had set aside upon Dorian's arrival. "The common curse of mankind, - folly and ignorance". He said, quoting Troilus and Cressida as he slid the small volume across the table to Mister Flint.

"You might read to Nathan, if you like."

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Flint chuckled.

"Indeed, the great war chief 'Ongeswasgone' often wondered of me why The Great White Father across The Sea put so much value in land when dirt is not what fills ones belly." Bill laughed heartily.

Bill picked up The Bard's Tome and pursed his lips then allowed another small sound of mirth to escape.

"I fear any attempt to introduce Mister Bly to some culture will be met with his insistense that the whole crew be made to do likewise, however I should like to borrow this for my own enjoyment for a bit".

"If you have nothing else that requires immediate attention my captain then I would take my leave of you."

"I hope that Mr. McCormick will see the value in staying on for a bit and that our musters woes will soon be put to rest.".Bill's smile grew a bit broader "O that we now had here But one ten thousand of those men in England That do no work to-day! " *

*From Shakespeares Henry V

[William Brand]

"What's he that wishes so?"

Then William went to the sea chest which served for his own belongings and took from there his copy of Le Morte d'Arthur and added it to the borrowed books.

"These were lent to me by a departed friend and so the value of them is great. Mind you that no harm comes to the Bard or Malory."

"Aye, Captain...and thank you."

William dismissed him to his rest. Then taking up his hat and coat he went to the surgeon's quarters to inquire after those so recently rescued. Passages of Henry the V were still echoing about in his head as he knocked.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Weaving through the semi dim lumination of hanging lamp struggle with shadows, Raphael having concluded endevours of Galley need approached former surrounds. Nearing the Surgery's proximity, he slacked his stride to the sight of wide shouldered form. Lamp's glow caught shade of flamed hues and recognition came to the forefront as the soft knock of hailing feel on private chamber door. The soft tone intertwined with origin's designation sounded to Captain's hearing.

"May I be of aid, Capitaine?"

[William Brand]

"Oui. I came to inquire after the rescued women before I retire. I trust they are improved...if only a little since coming aboard?"

The answer was simple and affirmative. "Oui, Capitaine."

"Good. Good. And how are things with you?"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

A minute inflection of crease played the Frenchman's brow briefly at William's query, "I am well, merci. If you wish to speak with Madame Fitzgerald, she was in Surgery proper not overlong ago..."

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Billy having been giving his leave arrived at the infirmary a few moments ahead of Capitaine Hollande. He had grown to trust the lady doctor and her magical touch which had brought his dearest friend from the very brink of death. He greeted her with a warm smile. Touching his fingers to his brow he spoke.

"Le bon Médecin de Madame du soir, réussit comment notre malade préféré ? "

Then noticing the ship wrecked women he remembered his manners.

"Forgive me mistresses I meant no interruption."

Turning back to the ship's surgeon

"Je demande pardon Fitzgerald de Médecin, je vous ai attrapé à un moment inopportun ? "

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon smiled warmly at the unintentional faux pas and recovery. In the short lapse of time that the broad shouldered Marin had been in ship's company, she had aquired a certain fondness for him and his ami Nathan. Jacquelyn considered it a compliment that he generally chose her native verbose when addressing and was amused at how there were slight nuances of differing from Acadian flavor. The hints of New France weaving with subtle manner with the that of aboriginal base was an issue of intreguing note.

Laying a forgiving hand on Mister Flint's arm, she gave a small nod of negation, "Fair ses excuses a qu? Non, Monsieur Flint...De rien." She made a waving off gesture to further the point. A tincture of confusion played the eyes of the young Irlandaisie woman with the rapid verse of forgien speech, to which the Surgeon begged pardon and asked to be excused from their immediate surround for a brief.

Indicating private quarters, Jacquelyn lead the Marin within and secured the door. Crossing to where abandoned goblet still sat in inkwell borders, she glanced to where mother vessel lay patiently awaiting next tour of service. A second goblet was procured, filled and handed to Flint in friendly offering before she spoke again.

"Mister Flint, to what pleasure do I owe your visit? for in truth, it is always a welcome incident. But I am much under the impression that you have come into my midst for futher purpose than a simple social call. Of what service might I render to your need?"

From without chamber's main door, Raphael gave William full visual attention as respect demanded, but his sense of hearing recentered on muffled conversation occuring inside.

[William Brand]

July 18, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Second bell of First Watch

"No, no. I need not trouble the good Doctor in her work. Please convey my respects. I will be on the quarterdeck."

William made his way forward, but stopping at the outer door he turned back again.

"Monsieur Chanault."

"Capitaine."

"Please except my gratitude for your role in the Gaultier matter."

"Mon plaisir, Capitaine."

"Yeees." William said in a long and drawn out affirmative as he scrutinized the quiet man.

William was reminded of a snake charmer he had once seen in Jappa. He had watched, fascinated as the man hypnotized the snake into a slow swaying dance. He remembered wondering why the man would make a living with such a dangerous reptile. As time had passed, William had come to an even deeper wondering. Had the man in fact hypnotized the snake or was the reptile the master? Was the relationship mutual?

Standing here in the near darkness of the passageway, William studied his own kept serpent and understood better than he had before, the relationship of venomous allies and the careful dance they make.

William smiled. "Carry on, Monsieur."

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Bill smiled again and sipped his drink.

"My reasons are many Doctor Fitzgerald. Certainly not the least of which being yet another inquiry of Nathan's condition. Secondly I came to offer my services anytime Raphael is unavailable, I'm no doctor but I have set my share of bones and been known to sew a wound or two. Lastly I came to warn you, The Captain is going to offer Jonas his freedom. I'm not entirely sure what the man is capable of but he did truck with that vile little serpent Gaultier, so please humor me and take great care around him. And now I believe I've taken quite enough of your time, so I shall be on my way. Jusqu'à la prochaine fois mon ami."

[Dorian Lasseter]

The QuarterMaster made his way around the deck, checking on the watch and making sure all the hatch covers were secure as the rain continued. The gloom of the clouds made the hour seem later than it was and deck lanterns had to be lit early. Not much more had been found of the Apollo's wreckage, a barrel or two, a hatch grating and more shattered planks was all. Earlier two spars had bee brought aboard and were deemed in perfect shape by the carpenter, so the Watch Dog had even more spares. Dorian pondered the fate of the sailors who perished on the merchant, reflecting back on the times when he thought a ship he was on would surely founder. The only reason they hadn't was that he had convinced the captain to cut away the masts. He remembered the fear of the men and officers, remembered how most of the crew had lashed themselves to any solid part of the ship and prayed for deliverance. He continued his rounds and greeted all those on watch, making sure all was being tended to properly. Soon he found himself climbing the stairs to the quarterdeck and under the weather awning. He pulled the logbook from the binnacle niche, along with pen and ink, carefully scribed the necessary notes and returned all to former surrounds. He paced to the weather rail and stood looking out over the ocean, swept his eyes in a wide ark and saw not a thing but the indistinct line between sea and sky.

"Ní hé lá na báistí lá na bpáistí...."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

July 18, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Second bell of First Watch

"No, no. I need not trouble the good Doctor in her work. Please convey my respects. I will be on the quarterdeck."

William made his way forward, but stopping at the outer door he turned back again.

"Monsieur Chanault."

"Capitaine."

"Please except my gratitude for your role in the Gaultier matter."

"Mon plaisir, Capitaine."

"Yeees." William said in a long and drawn out affirmative as he scrutinized the quiet man.

William was reminded of a snake charmer he had once seen in Jappa. He had watched, fascinated as the man hypnotized the snake into a slow swaying dance. He remembered wondering why the man would make a living with such a dangerous reptile. As time had passed, William had come to an even deeper wondering. Had the man in fact hypnotized the snake or was the reptile the master? Was the relationship mutual?

Standing here in the near darkness of the passageway, William studied his own kept serpent and understood better than he had before, the relationship of venomous allies and the careful dance they make.

William smiled. "Carry on, Monsieur."

Raphael-Etienne Chanault retained quiet poise as he watched the commanding officer with veiled interest, keeping such notions hidden behind proper stance of respectful manner. The smallish lapse of silence conjured mild amusement to the inner workings of the young Frenchman's thoughts. In that brief, shouded in the dim lumination of spaced lanterns, Raphael knew he was being appraised by the Capitaine. Fournier had spoken highly of the flame crowned man and with such endorsements, he could not help but be slightly intregued by what it was that may be playing within William's mental corridors.

With the Capitaine's final wordings, Chanault proffered crisp salut and replied in silkened tone, "Merci, Capitaine...Je suis a votre disposition."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Bill smiled again and sipped his drink.

"My reasons are many Doctor Fitzgerald. Certainly not the least of which being yet another inquiry of Nathan's condition. Secondly I came to offer my services anytime Raphael is unavailable, I'm no doctor but I have set my share of bones and been known to sew a wound or two. Lastly I came to warn you, The Captain is going to offer Jonas his freedom. I'm not entirely sure what the man is capable of but he did truck with that vile little serpent Gaultier, so please humor me and take great care around him. And now I believe I've taken quite enough of your time, so I shall be on my way. Jusqu'à la prochaine fois mon ami."

She listened patiently with attentive ear, sipping occasionally from goblet companion. Jacquelyn smiled warmly to his words of departure, but raised a finger to pause his movement.

"To answer your queries, Monsieur Flint...I am sure you have found Nathan much improved in constitution and to that effect, you shall have to lay your praises on Monsieur Chanault. He is responsible for diagnosing the true nature of the malady as well as what was needed to reverse most of the discomfort. I do believe Nathan shall be his former self in the very near future..."

Another sample of rouge elixir was consumed delicately and she noted the relief that her wordings brought to him.

"As to your offer of aid in the Surgery, I thank you with sincerest appreciation and let us hope that I shall never be forced to call on your reinforcments, non?

She chuckled softly and was inwardly thankful that even at its worst, the Surgery had not been packed to the brims with wounded. Jacquelyn considered his last announcement of cautionary nature with a purse of lips before commenting. She caught Bill's eyes with her own and held them, the lightness of former tone vanquished and was replaced with something altogether its' opposit. The deep green sights gained a hint of predatory glint.

"Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Flint. I shall take your warning under careful advisory. Put your mind at ease, s'il vous plait...I am not as harmless as I may seem. Never the less..."

The Surgeon stopped mid sentence as the main door to private quarters opened and Chanault entered, pausing in the thresh hold. The Frenchman eyed the other man briefly than nodded stiff acknowledgment before advancing further and closing portal to the sharp click of latch.

[Bloody Bill Flint]

"Je demande pardon, It was not my intent to insinuate a lack of capability on your part, but thank you for hearing me out. If it is feasible I should like to take Nathan to the weather deck tomorrow for some air, ca va?