The Watch Dog

[Dorian Lasseter]

Wardroom of the Lucy

Men came and left all the richer with their shares. Preston imbibed the captains’ spirits. The smell of good food wafted from the galley causing Dorian’s stomach to growl some. As a man left and another had not yet arrived, Dorian smiled.

“Miss Ashcombe? If you choose, you may continue to act as my Steward… and if you would be so kind, go to the galley, have a meal and bring th’ same fer the Master and I…”

Preston at first gave the Captain an odd look. He had not known Miss Ashcombe was present. As a point of fact, he thought he and Dorian were alone in the wardroom. He straightened and nodded to the woman as she peeked around the canvas hanging.

[Red Cat Jenny]

From behind the canvas Jenny had recognised the voice of Mr. Pew. She listened quietly as the men were joined by unfamiliar voices who spoke of the Chateau Anse. Fearing inquest at first, she realized that there must be others sought by the Captain and crew. Jenny was relieved to find that her plight alone was not the only intrigue amongst the company. She would happily accept the position of being no more than a small concern.

Still more men arrived and the sound of coin and thanks tinged with grateful surprise followed. She imagined large shares from the crate which though small, had made a solid sound against the deck. Miss Ashcombe wished for a small crack in the curtain to observe the goings on, but remained still and silent. Soon she was summoned by Captain Lasseter and smiled at Mr. Pew as she came about the sheeting to see to their request for supper. Jenny blushed both at the realization of her forwardness in meeting the Ship Masters glance directly and at the offer of a position in service to the Captain. She lowered her eyes, affected a manner of curtsey despite the slops and tried to surpress her own surprise as she answered. "It would be a priveledge sir, to accept your kind offer. " Not knowing what more to say, she made her way past the men who exchanged a look and a bemused smile temporarily relieving the tension of the moment as she exited towards the galley.

[Pew]

Preston waited until the Steward had left the Ward room before he proceeded. He raised the bottle and Dorian nodded. Things were pressing on his mind though. It was nice to finally have time with the Captain.

"How are th' ledgers lookin'Cap'n?"

Thinking, Preston wanted to ask the more pointed questions: Had the ships stores been filled? What else was in need of repair on the ship? What was needed for the larder? Had the sails been repaired? Any repairs to the ship's boats needed? Was there enough shot in the locker? Had the fine powder been sifted? Thoughts raced.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian looked at his Ship’s Master. He saw the look of question on his face and knew the question asked was just the beginning.

“Aye Preston, th’ ledger’s lookin’ fine… care ta look through it? Tis yer duty now…”

Captain Lasseter handed Mister Pew the general ledger that contained the stores and daily workings of the ship. The other ledger, which Dorian had in front of him contained the names and ranks of the crew, the prize monies awarded to whom, etc… There were still men who needed to collect their shares, but they were ashore presently. Dorian watched as Preston juggled his drink and the ledger as he tried to look through the tome.

[William Brand]

August 3, 1704 - Fort Royal

Lieutenant Raul Turcotte and the woman he had chosen for the evening were as intimately involved as two strangers could be when Donatien Durand burst into his room unannounced. Turcotte was instantly abashed and angry, a point which Durand ignored as much as he did the nudity of the pair. The Lieutenant protested at the outrage of the man's arrival, but Durand simply walked over to the large table which occupied the room and poured himself a drink. The woman, sensing that departure was prudent, gathered up her clothes without dressing and fled the room, leaving Turcotte to his disdain.

Durand raised a hand. "Enough." he said, in a tone that sounded as much bored as tired, then added, "That cannot be the first woman to storm from your chambers."

The Lieutenant narrowed his eyes at Durand and would have made a retort, but Quirion arrived at the door then to see what was the matter. "Sorry, sah." Quirion said as he made an attempt to leave and shut the door at the same time, hopeful to escape the company of the two men.

"Stay." Turcotte said, wishing he hadn't almost immediately. The Lieutenant did not like the need of a third man when speaking with Durand, but L'Ours had a way of unsettling people and having Quirion present was becoming a reflex action whenever the man was around. Durand simply smiled and the Lieutenant tried to return to a place of elevation by moving the subject to their mutual business with haste. It came across as a kind of retreat. "What have you learned, Monsieur?"

Durand said nothing. He sipped his drink slowly, and when it was dry, he poured another. Then he made a point of removing his coat and hat. Quirion made an offer to take them, but one look from Durand and he changed his mind. Instead, Durand dropped them unceremoniously across the surface of the table as if the room were his and not the Lieutenants. The gesture was not lost on Turcotte, who took it graciously enough. Then Durand invited the Lieutenant to sit, though Quirion remained standing a safe distance from the table.

"I have visited the Heron...now the Lucy...and found nothing." Durand began. Turcotte heard 'Lucy' as 'Lieu si' and thought it had the air of a question to it. "I was also privileged to meet Capitaine Lasseter and Capitaine Brand." Brand came out sounding like 'Brond' as he said it, and there was emphasis on both names, for Durand did not hide his respect of men that he felt deserving of it. "They command eight score men...and women." Durand punctuated this addition with a smile before refreshing his glass for a third time.

"These things I already know, Monsieur." Turcotte said impatiently.

"Then you have engaged me on a wasted errand." Durand returned with a shrug in his voice, sounding falsely apologetic and matter-of-fact.

"You have learned nothing more than this?" Turcotte pressed.

"I have learned enough to know that there is too much to learn." Durand returned simply, as if this alone should be an adequate explanation, but whether Durand had intended this to sound sage or final, Turcotte would have nothing of it.

"You will go again, Monsieur." The Lieutenant insisted, and Quirion made a face from where he stood. Had Quirion been seated at the table, he would have kicked the young Lieutenant. Turcotte pressed on. "Oui. You will go again and learn more of them until I am satisfied on this point."

"Until you are satisfied on this point." Durand reiterated slowly, almost to himself. "Until you are satisified."

Turcotte saw that this irritated Durand and he made the mistake of thinking it an advantage. "Oui. You will bring me intelligence of these two captains and their crew. You will 'learn much' and bring it to me. Once I am satisifed I..."

"Diable d'Upstart" Durand growled.

Quirion raised a hand from his side ever so slightly to caution the Lieutenant, but Turcotte pressed forward, pell mell. "I believe that the favor owed me is not..."

Durand stood up. Just that. He stood up and it was enough to cut off the Lieutenant. There was a protracted pause as the overbalanced chair decided which way to fall. It teetered between a choice of gravity fed possibilities before it finally fell over in a clatter of wood on wood. Then Durand walked around to the side of the table with a practiced patience that proved most unsettling. He placed his hand on the back of the Lieutenant's chair and leaned down so close that Turcotte could see the star like flaw in the dark cabochon that was Durand's false eye. "Is it possible for me to owe a favor to one that has lost all favor with me?" Durand whispered, so close now that the wind of his last three drinks pressed upon Turcotte's face. "Be careful how you trade favor for disfavor, Monsieur. The exchange of such currencies comes at a price." Then Durand smiled. He smiled and remained in Turcotte's face until he was certain that the young officer understood the differences between the semblance of position and rank and the actual position of power which knows no limitations.

Turcotte understood.

Then Donatien Larue Durand, general of a thousand silent and unrecorded battles, took up his coat and hat and left the room without another word, leaving Quirion in the company of an overturned chair, an empty glass and a very angry superior officer.

'Not so superior as before' Quirion thought as he closed the door.

Larboard Watches on Duty

[Pew]

Preston sat and opened the well worn book. To the last page he thumbed and ran ran his index finger down to the most recent date. He swirled the tankard in his hand and took a large drink with his eyes never leaving the page. All his concerns had been quelled when a knock was heard at the door.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Galley of the Lucy

Miss Ashcombe brought a hand to her temple and rubbed gently at the still healing wound beneath her hairline. The late afternoon sun was strong as it's angle grew nearer the earth and the salt of perspiration stung at the tender flesh there. She straightened her hat and continued retracing her steps to the galley once again. As she entered the small space, the source of smells which had teased the stomachs of the Captain and Mr. Pew was presentled in a large kettle which steamed upon the hearth. Nearby a man stood knife in hand working with his back to the door. He wore an apron and a scarf tied tightly from which shocks of dark hair escaped it's edges here and there. Jenny knocked gently and cleared her throat. The man did not startle, but turned reluctantly from his work and met her with bright blue eyes which stood in sharp contrast to the dark hair and slight beard. Charlie Marsh was accustomed to crew entering his domain, but never favored it when he was deep in thought over his preparation. "Aye?" was all he said. "I am to be Steward to the Captain" she replied. "Newly appointed" Jenny smiled with the last both in hopes of a favorable response and in the realization of her new title as she heard it spoken from her own lips. The man placed knife and vegetable on the table and pulled his apron tight around his large belly. Adjusting it this way and that and finishing by wiping his hands clean on the adjusted cloth. He then placed his knuckles against his hips and breathed out a tired sigh "I was not made aware of this.." He looked at her hard a moment and Jenny shrank a little under his stare. "Appointed...by whom?" "Captain Lasseter" she replied, raising her chin a little. Jenny hoped he would accept this and quickly. She was hungry and wanted to make haste in bringing meals to the Captain and Master who hopefully would be pleased if she did so in a timely manner.

He seemed to accept her answer and turned back halfway towards his interrupted task. "I suppose you'll be bringing his evening meal then..what is your name Miss?" Jenny took a step closer as he had mumbled and she was in need of help. "Poole..." The name escaped her lips and Jenny wondered how all would be undone in regards to her surname after they had sailed from Martinique. She pressed on "I am to take supper to the Captain and the Ships Master but I fear I am unfamiliar with your galley and what is ....usual" The Lucy's cook heaved another sigh and placed his items down again. He turned towards her and began to collect plates filling them with the stew. He spoke as he worked, handing her a heavy tray and covering it with various items. "You may call me Mr. Marsh. I'm the cook herebouts. That is what is usual. We've a mess mate, young Mr. Cuylemburch who is ashore at present." He paused placing bread amongst the dishes "Can you manage that?" he asked as she teetered with the tray. "Yes sir I can manage quite well thank you" she said her cheeks flushing. Jenny had always been headstrong and detested when weakness was implied so openly. He merely chuckled and sent her on her way with a warning that if she dropped it, she'd be cleaning it up as well. Jenny stepped carefully towards the ward room wondering how she might possibly knock laden with such a tray. As she approached the door was being opened and she waited her turn to enter.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The knock at the door to the wardroom was not expected, nor was it unexpected. Dorian had not yet gotten used to the demands of the captain of such a ship as this. It was a weighty thing, but not so heavy as to be such a burden to the Irishman. Again the Captain straightened in his chair.

“Enter…”

The door creaked open and in marched the Master-at-Arms. He did not walk or stroll but marched as if he were in the royal guard, saluted and stood at attention.

“Mister Flint… You have something to report?”

Bill nodded and was about to speak, but a sound behind him made him look back. The door had not closed, due to Miss Ashcombe and a heavily laiden tray in her hands. She balanced the tray carefully and made her way inside the room, Dorian cleared the table of the ledgers and motioned for her to set the tray there. Dorian stood and moved to the stern windows, motioning Mister Flint over.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Though she was tempted to release it quickly and unburden her arms, Miss Ashcombe took care to set the tray and its contents carefully and quietly upon the table. She waited for the Master at arms as he crossed to the stern and spoke quietly with the Captain. Then removed the various bowls and sundry careful to spill nothing nor clatter the utensils. The meal set out properly, Jenny placed the tray on a side table and looked to the Captain to see if they needed anything further. He was speaking intently to Mr. Flint and so she took the smaller plate of fruit, bread and stew and retired quietly behind the canvas. As she ate she listened able to only discern a word or two. There was so much to learn and any small clues here and there might work well to her advantage. Jenny resolved that she would not repeat what she heard within the confines of the Captain's private quarters. She knew that he would expect her allegiance as Garaud had expected and always recieved such from St. James even though she was not to be so lowly a servant as he.

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Bill cleared his throat and spoke.

"Ahem, Sir my evaluation of our Marines is complete. Most of those chosen are well suited to the purpose...."

Captain Lasseter cocked an eyebrow at Flint's pause.

"It's Hatrick Sir, he's a good man. He just can't shoot. Matter of fact it's my professional opinion that he'd be unable to hit the broadside of a barn from within even if he were given a swivel gun loaded with grapeshot. I decided it best to consult with you before officially relieving him of his duties as a Marine and seeking a replacement."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian looked at Mister Flint, then to Mister Pew. He slowly nodded.

"Hatrick... Young Ian... Aye... He's barely a man... sixteen or seventeen years I b'lieve..."

The Captain slowly turned and paced forward past the table of food, the aroma more powerful than ever, yet he ignored it. Reaching the forward bulkhead he turned and paced back to his Master-at-Arms. Once he had returned to his former position he stood looking out the stern windows. After a moment of silence he spoke one word.

"No..."

He turned to Flint and saw the slight crease in his brow.

"Mister Hatrick is young... impressionable... trainable... Thus, you shall train him. You shall take the callow youth and train him in th' art o' th' marine. He's a fine sailor, not yet grown into a man, yet seasoned. He be green as a soldier, as are several others. Tis your job ta shape them… Season ‘em…”

He stood and looked at Bill, waiting to see if he might have any further objections… Instead he saw a different look on the mans’ face. Like a challenge had been issued to him. He wore a look of knowing he had work to do, something he would enjoy. Dorian nodded.

“Aye… Hatrick will remain as a marine… If ye think th’ ranks are too thin… I’ll allow up ta four more crewmen ta be added as marines…”

He looked at Preston who nodded agreeably, then to Bill, waiting to hear his thoughts on the matter.

[Red Cat Jenny]

As Miss Ashcombe took her supper listening to the men talk of Marines and business, she looked about her small canvas world. It was large enough that she supposed she should be comfortable and when the ward room was empty she would ask if it would be allowed that she enjoy the chair nearer the window as she had earlier with her letters. The rocking of the ship was pleasant and for the moment she felt at peace. The cooks stew was warm and tasted of unfamiliar spices. Jenny looked down to see a paw searching under the canvas and stifled a laugh. She tried to shoo the paw's owner before she was forced to laugh out loud but the searching continued. Jenny dropped a small piece of stew and the explorer dissapeared with it's treasure. She laughed quietly and returned to the conversation and a bite of cheese.

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Bill scratched his chin.

"No Sar, I believe six Marines per watch should suffice at the present time. I may take two more in the future should there prove a need. Right now my only concern is readying young Hatrick."

[William Brand]

August 3, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Robert Thatcher and Paul Mooney reported to the ward room fed, clothed in fresh shirts, and armed to go ashore again in search of the three missing men. While they stood waiting, William pondered aloud about which men he would add to their respective search parties. A knock came at the door then and two men appeared there, counterpointing the present requirement for additional searchers. William was surprised to see a weary Claude Marchande and threadbare Cobus Casteel, just returned from their own search ashore. They wore the dust and clay of many roads and William smiled to see them returned to the ship, but his face sobered at once, for Claude's expression was not one of good news. Claude passed a solitary letter to William and William took it to the open stern windows to read it there.

"Sah...if we may?" Claude asked, gesturing in the direction of the galley.

"Go and eat, Mister Casteel." William said as he unfolded the stiff paper. "If you would wait a moment..." William added, nodding to Claude and Claude returned the gesture as he nudged Cobus from the room.

William read the letter quietly to himself, looking up once at the water of the Cul du Sac Royal. Then he read the letter through again, more slowly. Again, he looked out the window as if pondering upon its contents. He turned once to Claude and made as if to speak twice before turning to the letter yet a third time. Robert and Paul exchanged a look, but Claude merely watched the Captain. William looked out the window. "How came you by this?"

"She bid us wait while she penned the letter, Captain." Claude explained.

William nodded. He looked down at the open paper and then folded it slowly, nodding again. "Thank you, Mister Marchande." he said quietly. "Please see that Mister Badger is informed. He'll need some men to remove her things. Please also see that Miss Smith is made aware of the departure so that she might sort those tools belonging to the ship from them that should be borne to the Doctor.

"Aye, Sah." Claude said as he went out in search of the Bosun and Steward.

"Miss Fitzgerald." Robert guessed aloud, trying to fill the quiet of the room. William simply nodded, illuminating nothing.

"Mister Thatcher, please bring me the Master-at-Arms and Mister Hingerty."

"Aye, Sah."

William turned again to the window and cursed under his breath.

Three bells of the First Dog Watch

Larboard Watches on Duty

[Dorian Lasseter]

Wardroom of the Lucy

Dorian clapped a hand on Bill’s shoulder.

“Excellent… now, go to th’ galley with yer marines an’ get a meal inta ye. Been gone a goodly time an’ I can bet yer all hungry.”

Bill nodded, then stood tall and saluted

“Aye Sar.”

He turned and marched forward and back out onto deck. Even after the door had shut, those in the wardroom heard the Master-at-Arms bellow out orders to his marines. Arms to be cleaned and stowed, then to the galley. Dorian nodded with appreciation at the skill of his new officer, then turned to his other new officer.

“Pull up a chair Preston, afore this gets cold.”

Dorian held out a hand, gesturing to the meal laid out on the table. Preston gave a curt nod and pulled a chair into place and sat, soon after the Captain sat in his chair and commenced the meal. As hunger overtook the need for conversation, it was mostly quiet, except for the lapping of waves and other ship-borne noises.

[William Brand]

August 3, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Eric Franklin reported for duty along with an unusually happy looking Manus. Robert gave Manus a questioning look, but Manus seemed to be too involved in his own thoughts to notice. Paul simply elbowed him in the ribs as William laid out his own cutlass and pistols on the table.

“Mister Franklin, I want you to take Robert and go directly to the sugar plantation where you and Mister Pew stayed the night some days past. You will make inquiries of those at the plantation and any other home near to the place with the aid of your friends there.”

“Sah…the home of Monsieur Lebeaux?” Eric returned, somewhat surprised.

“Aye, the same. I do not know the island well, but at least a few of us are aware of the Manoir de Aube Sucré, because of your visit there, so the location allows us a landmark inland from St. Louis.” William explained. “You will use the manor as a point of origin when charting your way back to the docks.”

“Aye, Sah.” Eric agreed with an appreciative nod.

“The Manor also affords us a point along a wide arc which will take in the Western coast of Martinique and the roads between there and here. You will go with Robert directly to that fixed point and make your way back again with due speed, stopping only where and when you may, and only as your own good reason dictates, to enquire after our men. In this way, you will return to the Watch Dog in an ever shrinking arc.”

“I understand, Sah.”

“Mister Mooney.”

“Sah!”

“You will take Mister Hingerty and go as far as the Villa du Fort Royal, North and East of us. You will make enquiries there and then return to the ‘Dog along a tack which lies between here and there. Am I understood?”

“Aye, Sah.” The two men said together.

“If any of you should find information that might lead you beyond the circle of your search, you will first return to the Watch Dog or the Lucy and make your information know to myself, or in my absence, Captain Lasseter. Am I understood?” Again they agreed together and William explained that he and Claude Marchande would search as they might while on errands in St. Louis. William further explained that Captain Lasseter should be made aware of these search parties and that he would do this before departing the docks. He cautioned the men to find rest at the widest arc and to rise early on the morrow that they might come again to the docks before the noon hour. He gave to them some coin for the purpose of food, lodging, and where necessary, bribery. Then he sent them on their errand with papers and purse, wishing them well in their efforts.

When they were gone, he took one long breath and let it out slowly as he shouldered his baldric. He stepped from the Ward Room and stood a moment at the surgery door before going in search of Claude and his own purposes ashore.

[Pew]

Eric left the Ward Room and, as an afterthought returned just as quickly. He knocked briefly and entered without waiting.

"Sah, I...." He noticed the Captain had gone. 'Not far' he thought to himself. In the moment of his thought, he could hear the Captain by the surgery door. He followed and started the Captainwho was deep in thought.

"Sah, 'twas Jean's brother who rant the house. P'mission t' take him along?"

[William Brand]

August 3, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William considered the matter aloud, noting that if he could use Thatcher and Mooney while they should be off duty ashore, then there could be no harm in Eric employing Jean Doublet if Jean was willing and able. He did caution Eric to spend as little time as he could in finding Jean and that he should release Robert to leave ashore once he found the Frenchman. Eric agreed and made haste. Manus and Paul were about to depart at almost the same time, when Pascal asked if he might go in Mooney's place. William agreed, and the three men left the ship, with Paul seeing Manus and Pascal as far as the docks.

Jacob and Tudor met William amidships, even as he began discussing his plans ashore with Claude Marchande. Mister Badger listened closely, as he motioned for two men to tackle the task of bearing the Doctor’s belongings ashore. When William was done explaining his plans to Claude, he walked with Tudor to the surgery, where he, Tudor and Jacob discussed the particulars of removing the Doctor’s requested belongings. Tudor wore many questions on her face, but asked none of them, for William seemed anxious to depart, so she confirmed only a few small matters as touching the surgery, and let him go to his business.

[Black Syren]

The seas were calm, the moon making it seem like black glass reflecting thousands of stars overhead. In all the world she did not think there would ever be a more majestic sight than to see such. She gave a deep sigh and heard her name called and peered over to Ciaran halfway down and calling up to her for victuals. She gave a yawn and moved to slowly climb down till her feet were safely upon the gently swaying deck.

Stretching slowly she looked back up to the night sky before reluctantly moving from her post and towards Ciaran. Argus quickly scampering at her heels as they navigated through the lines and cables and crew till they moved in tandem. Another yawn caused Ciaran to tease her about sleepless nights and she fought the blush that rose to her cheeks and looked to her feet. His laugh had her own following and she shook her head at his antics.

Reaching the galley she soon caught up on all the latest happenings as she took her seat and supped. Apparently three of their mates still missing..Luigi was missing half a finger in a fight…”Dio! il luigi è stato danneggiato….” Luigi was charming and sweet…it was most shocking to hear he had been hurt..but her worries were quickly soothed when all claimed he would be fine and would return soon.

Quickly did she say a small prayer and make the sign of the cross before returning to her meal in silence and listening intently slipping argus more than half her meal under the table where he sat upon her feet. There were no further words of the Navarre though talk of Tawny was still prominent as was talk of the shooting upon the Lucy. Speculation was rampant and many were concerned over recent events. She too was concerned and after eating quickly pushed her way from the table and thanking Mr. Gage quickly bounded back up to the decks and made her way over to the rail and stared out towards the illuminated city before looking to the Navarre ,Argus flopping at her feet. She squinted her eyes taking in figures moving along the decks, some at work others like herself at leisure and she felt her gaze drawn to the Lucy and wondered what Bill was up to before tearing her gaze away and focusing out to the dark sea.

This night there was no song in her heart, worry filled her…as it did most if not all of her crewmates….

[Dorian Lasseter]

Wardroom of the Lucy

As the meal in the Wardroom came to an end, the Captain still aware that his Ships Master’s health was not yet perfect kept the mood light and reassured Preston that all was well on the Lucy, no pressing matters to attend to. Again a quiet returned to the Wardroom until there was a polite knock at the door. Dorian gave permission for whomever to enter and in poked Mister Brisbane’s head.

“Cap’n Sir… There be some men ashore, come ta deliver…. Furnature?”

Dorian smiled.

“Ah… finally… Send them aboard Nigel…”

“Aye, Sah.”

The door closed and Preston swiveled his head around and fixed his Captain with a questioning look. Dorian stood and cleared his chair to a bulkhead. He looked at the Master and lifted an eyebrow.

“Mister Pew… Or should I say Whittin’ferd… Shift yer arse over there. Aye, I got new cabin furniture a’comin’. “

Preston snorted and slowly stood, after draining his glass and moved to the bench seat at the stern. Dorian called Miss Ashcombe from her hidden place and bid her to clear the tray and empty bowls, which she did with a curtsey. Just as she was heading to the door again a knock and in came the men delivering the new furniture. They entered with care and the following man held the door for Miss Ashcombe before heading back out for what was left behind. Three young men from the furnishing store had arrived with a new table, a small desk and four chairs that were constructed in such a way as to collapse flat for ease of stowage when not in use. Preston watched in amusement as Dorian spoke with the lead man in broken French and English. He wore a quirky smile as the men removed the old table and replaced it with the new, Dorian shuffling parchment and sundries out of the old and into the new. He showed them where to put the desk, next to the steps leading forward to the deck. It fit perfectly. The Captain was pleased that his measurements had been followed precisely. Three of the four chairs were left folded up and placed against a bulkhead, whereas the fourth was placed with the desk. The Men, done with their service bowed out and Dorian rewarded them with coin and bid them a good evening. He almost ignored Preston as he sat and opened his desk for the first time. The smell of fresh varnish and wood was pleasant. Dorian began to arrange pens, ink bottles and parchment in the nooks and niches. Finally he spoke aloud.

“Well old man? Wot ye think?”

First bell of the Second Dog Watch

[William Brand]

August 3, 1704 - Aboard the Lucy

William arrived on the Lucy even as the men who had borne the furniture aboard were departing. He made his way aft and found Dorian and Preston in conversation amongst new furnishings. Dorian attempted to engage William's opinion on the newly decorated room, but William was focused in his mood as he produced the letter from Miss Fitzgerald. He passed it to Dorian and waited while he read the contents.

Elsewhere on Martinique

A weary Jean-Bernard Dubernard shook his head and mopped blood from his hands. His attentive assistant stood hard by waiting for the doctor to make a prognosis, though he was fairly certain that anyone could have ascertained the fate of this patient by the smell and quantity of his many injuries. The damaged man which lay before them was torn here and there so brutally that some parts of him did not resemble a man. One miniscule remaining ear was a festering mass of disease, as if that side of his face had decided not to waste any time with the business of dying. He was almost mummified in darkening bandages. The Doctor had managed to save the man from the brink, but even he looked uncertain about this premature act of mercy, for the patient's outlook seemed as grim as the reaper.

Doctor Dubernard nodded in the direction of the door and he and his assistant Philippe Pétain went out into the night air.

"Will he live, Monsieur?" asked an expectant Lagueux Michaud the moment they were in the street. He had brought the man with haste to the doctor and had remained to assist at first, until the first amputation had forced him to flee the surgery for clearer air out of doors.

Doctor Dubernard shook his head. "Perhaps if he had been discovered sooner." he answered, rubbing one tired eye. "He has lost too much blood, I should think, and I like not his color."

"Who is he, do you think?" Lagueux Michaud asked, his voice dropping low as two women passed them by.

"I do not know, but his remaining hand, like the other, is calloused much. He might have been a sailor or a dockhand." Doctor Dubernard looked back through the open door at what remained of Tawny. "We may never know who he was." he admitted, making no effort to change his use of the past tense.

Larboard Watches on Duty

[Dorian Lasseter]

Wardroom of the Lucy

William was not one to be so rigid, but when Dorian read the letter handed to him he understood. As a point of fact he took the letter to the nearest hanging candle and made sure he had actually read it correctly. He even read it a second time under the candle.

“I see… And what have ye done?”

William stood quietly a moment before responding.

“I’ve followed her wishes.”

Dorian folded the letter in half and nodded. He handed it back to William who folded it a second time and placed it in a pocket. They stood in silence for a bit longer. Finally Captain Lasseter broke the silence.

“You look ta be set for th’ shore… dressed an’ armed as you are… another invite ta dinner or?”

[William Brand]

August 3, 1704 - Aboard the Lucy

"I mean to satisfy myself on a few matters ashore as touching the missing men. I've sent Eric Franklin and Robert Thatcher ashore to find Jean Doublet. then Mister Franklin and Mister Doublet shall travel North and West in search of news, while Pascal and Manus are bound for climbs North and East." William paused. "I need to purchase some goods for myself and then to the prison."

"Recruiting again, Captain?" Preston asked from where he sat.

"Yes and no. I mean to press Doctor Van Zandt again, that he might give up his stubborn cell for a place among us." William remembered a point of importance then and wondered if he had spoken to Dorian on the matter. "Morgan has left us for a post aboard a merchant ship."

Larboard Watches on Duty

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian nodded slowly at what William was planning and was about to offer some men off the Lucy when Preston spoke up. He asked a question that was on his mind as well. Doctor van Zandt. Dorian gave a slight shake of his head. The Doctor was a stubborn man. Then Captain Brand mentioned Mister Morgan taking his leave.

“He did, did he? Very well… Another good man ta replace… “

Dorian shook his head again and half smiled. They were loosing more crew to other posts and wishes then they had during any battles thus far.

“So… d’ye need some others ta search? I’ll be happy ta suggest some of my men… I could come along as well…”

Dorian had been aboard for a long while and would like to stretch his legs, and for that matter he should check on the work at the bow, the figurehead should be finished soon, if not already.

[William Brand]

August 3, 1704 - Aboard the Lucy

William thought on the matter a moment and then nodded. "Aye, we'll discuss matters of the ships and the company as we go. You may join me and Mister Marchande ashore. As for more men...I will not refuse any additional help. Perhaps four men in two pairs serving in four hour revolutions from the Lucy?"