Port Royal, Jamaica

[Capt. Sterling]

He could only laugh to himself as she apologized profusely for her carelessness. He knew she had lifted his wallet when she had collided with him, empty and worn, the leather itself not worth the pickpocket's effort. Well the joke was on her, Sterling thought as he entered the tavern, pushing his way to the bar.

Knowing the refined port would only add insult to injury regarding his already throbbing head, Sterling downed his first pint of rum, then, fishing in his waistband pocket, handed over two coins to cover several more tankards. With refill in hand he turned from the bar and looked over the crowd of miscreants that spread forth like a sea of vermin before and around him. Since he had actually been born to such a class of people, the type had never made him uncomfortable, cautious perhaps, but never uneasy. Nevertheless, he seemed to make them so. He saw his crew members at a far table raise their drinks to him and he immediately acquired another coin to have a round sent over to them. He knew it unwise to join them… he did not wish to impose and ruin their free time by having them feel the need to pay him any extra attention or unearned respect. With a nod, he saluted them in kind then began to contemplate the liquid in the mug he held.

In time, he was approached by two lasses, plying their trade. The first was quite easy to dismiss, the second…

He glanced her over thoughtfully. Already he had lost count of which tankard he was holding, his mind growing more numb with each sip, his headache almost forgotten. She moved closer to him, her hands moving over the front of his waistcoat.

“Sorry Lass,” Sterling chuckled to himself. “But my wallet has already been lifted by one of yer “sisters” earlier this evening. If ye were able to reach the rest of my coin without notice, I’d have to say ye would be entitled to it, but I fear I have not enough to cover yer price.”

“I don’t mind sir,” the girl said coyly. “I think a drink would do me well enough. Shall I give ye a toss out back?”

He looked down at her, her long reddish brown hair, rekindling the memories of the past few days. In the dim light this girl could pass for… He straightened, his motion pushing the girl slightly away from him.

“Nay, lass, I think not. There be someone else I would rather….” he fell silent and turned back to the bar, placing the half finished tankard down on the bar top. When he turned back around she was still there.

“Thank ye kindly but mayhaps another time,” Sterling said. He nodded once more to the members of his crew that still remained in the tavern, gave the girl a wink and bow, and finally made his way back out to the street. The dawn was slowly about to break on another day at Port Royal as Sterling staggered his first few steps., hoping he was heading in the right direction.

[Ransom]

Ioan watched the man stumble to the bar and order a drink. He seemed drunk already, as were most of the other patrons of the tavern. Many of the sailors waved in his direction, and he nodded at them, but did not join them. Ah, Ioan thought, a Captain indulging his crew. He smiled as the local talent accosted the man and attempted to entice him. At first it seemed he might be ensnared by one of them, but some sudden, obvious memory caused him to push the woman away.

Ioan had no idea who the man was, but noticed that the lisping lord watched him with eyes like a hawk. As the captain stumbled out of the tavern, Ioan rose from his chair and followed him, sure that, in his current condition, he might be either easy pickings, or in need of a body guard. Both of which might earn him a little silver.

When he caught up to the man, he touched him carefully on the shoulder, and asked, "Sir, you seem to be a mite in your cups. Can I offer any assistance?

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The harsh and determined crow of Dawn Herald shook outdoor calm and caused furrow to come forth on delicate brow. Not truly asleep or awake, Aurore reached searchingly across the vacant expanse of mattress. No success to quest furthered the definition of brow crease and she opened her eyes groggily to confirm what she already knew was fact.

Propping upon elbow brace, her attention was drawn to semi closed curtains with the next trumpeting of rooster origins. A smallish gap betwixt heavy twined legnths revealed Dawn's sneaking approach in lavender gray adornments, and Aurore fell back to multi pillow comforts with heavy sigh. Dawn could mark possibilities of new beginnings, successful ventures and opportunities...This new day would mark the ending of Life chapter; one concluded far before its' time.

Reluctantly, Aurore left the seductive comfort of bed encompassment; moving sluggishly to the stateliness of large armoire. Doors swung away, the dark eyes perused mahagony depths and settled on burgandy silk flow. Traditions might have stated that black was the call for the day, but Aurore thought to honour in other ways. Molly had always admired the adornment of burgandy tincture and Aurore would give her fairwell wishes clad in such.

A light breeze navigated curtain barrier to tease exposed flesh, its' semi-cool touch as soft as a lover's. A trace of smile played Aurore's features in response to secretive thoughts as she covered herself in simple shift, leaving private chamber for hallway legnth.

No sound, but that of her own bare footpad disrupted upper floor. Andre', once again, had choosen to keep overnight in the Port; Sabastian had not been expected back and fulfilled expectation. The silence was almost disconcerting, but such feelings were dismissed as Aurore drew near memory filled chamber that now was as deserted as its brethren. Pausing quiet step, she laid one hand on movable wooden barrier briefly before continueing to lower floor realms.

Soon Jason would leave the cottage for predestined Crowne hostle, delivering what need be left there.

[Capt. Sterling]

When he caught up to the man, he touched him carefully on the shoulder, and asked, "Sir, you seem to be a mite in your cups. Can I offer any assistance?

At the sensation of touch, Sterling's first instinct, at such an hour was to draw, but as his hand flew to the hilt of his sword, he could only sense the need to be wise, not to defend himself. He pulled back from the touch and turned to look upon the young man that had approached him.

"Assistance?" Sterling said, already sobbering from his start. He briefly glanced over the young man's bearing, his hands well in view. He fixed his gaze on the young's man's eyes then. He could hear no one behind him at the moment, and relaxed his grip on his sword but his hand strayed, instead, to the pistol in his pocket.

"I think, lad, ye have already done me a service by bringing my mind back to where it needs be. I would be glad to take ye up on yer offer but I have not one penny to give ye for yer efforts, and besides, I know my way around the streets only all too well, if ye understand my meaning. Still I thank ye for your...ahem..concern. If ye would like I could be offering ye a drink for yer thoughtfulness. If ye go back inside and tell Mr. Simpson of the Archangel, he will put ye up a tankard of yer favorite."

Sterling then dipped his head slightly to the young man. "Again I thank ye. Mayhaps another time things will prove a bit more.... profitable."

[Cheeky Actress]

After an hours time, Lilly stood at the window of her room and thought about what her guest had told her. And in return Lilly has told her tale as well. "Well then, now you know everything about my horrid little tale." Ramson sat silent for a moment, still soaking in everything which the Mistress had said to her in private.

"Darnly is a man who has no soul. Killingsworth is the worst of his kind. With these two plotting together I shall never be free to live my life the way I see fit. And because of this, I can never truly be honest with my beloved Captain. If he were to know my tale of woe and sarrow, he would never marry me. This is why I keep my tale to myself. I do not wish to endanger those I love. I am sorry to hear about the young bar-maid...Molly was it?" Ramson nodded. "She did not need die by Killingsworth hand. Yet, I know that he is out there searching for me. What can I do? Shall I go to Sir Henry Morgan myself and plead my case? Shall I ask that Killingsworth be taken into custody? He's a man of power and wealth and if he needed to he would send word right back to Darnly for help!"

Lilly took a deep sigh. "I have no money for what evidence you claim you have. All I can ask it that if you meet up with Killingsworth...kill him yourself!"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Aurore stood in the morn's ealiest light next to Jason's prefered mount Old Tucker. The young lad had dubbed tried and true companion such as an irony, for the horse seemed to never tire nor was it old. Deftly gaining firm seat, Jason reached down to receive Mistress's desire then secured bundle in afore him on the saddle. Words were exchanged briefly and as young rider was about to start short journey, Aurore's voice caught him mid act of mount command. Cherubic features turned to her with silent query.

From around the keeping of slender neck, medallion was withdrawn and handed to reluctant hand. Jason would not question the action, though it left him rather puzzled as to why she would do so.

"Make sure that this is given unto the Capitaine's keeping only. If there is a problem this is its' remedy, as you are well aware. But, please advise him to be prudent in its' exposure. I need to know that his safety is ensured."

Jason nodded uncertainly, glancing to the sigil of bird in flight briefly before tucking it away. The sorrel was goaded forward and soon gained easy stride of speed. The venture from the bush to salt tinged air was conquered in good time and mount was drawn up before familiar structure. Admitance was easily gained to upper floors and once again, young lad found himself before familliar door.

Soft rap was issued, awaiting answer from within...

[Rateye]

“Unhand that lady, you villainous bastard!” Challenged Reiley, as he leapt onto the nearest chair with his pistols drawn. “But the evil bladester held firm his grip on the sweet Mistress.”

“By God, my boy! Tell me you cut loose and saved the lady!” Bellowed Doctor Easterly, as he became engrossed in Reiley’s tale of heroism.”

“Nay good sir,” Reiley continued. “To endanger the lovely mistress would have been a sin of which I could not accept…. But after offering the fiend and opportunity to escape with his life unaltered, he released my dear mistress and fled into the darkness. Never to be seen again!”

“Tell me you tracked him down and finished the cur!” Demanded Easterly, as he pounded on the table in excitement.

“Nay,” answered Reiley, allowing for a dramatic pause, “To leave my dear mistress unattended would have been too much of a risk. Therefore we resumed our search until we found the good Captain Sterling.”

“By God, son!” cheered Easterly. “What an adventure you’ve had! I only wish I had joined in this excitement. I would have cuffed the brigand so help me!”

Reiley was just relieved; the good doctor believed his story, for there was hardly another way to explain his choice of armament.

“Then what?” Demanded Easterly…..

[Capt. Sterling]

Soft rap was issued, awaiting answer from within...

Awoken from his brief nap, the old steward jumped from the chair he had taken residence in, paused midway across the floor to stretch, then proceeded to open the door.

"OH bloody 'ell, NOT YOU AGAIN!!" Symms snapped when he saw the same young messenger once more. The old man impatiently held out his hand, already expecting another note, although hoping this time it would be less cryptic.

"Please I am to give these things to Captain Sterling myself," the young lad said his hold tightening over the items he had been charged to deliver.

"Ye mean he not be off lollygagging with yer lot this time?" Symms asked. The old man heaved a sigh. "Where the bloody hell he's gotten himself off to this time, I be not knowing. All right then young squire," Symms continued. "To him I shall give it, when and if he shows up. I be his steward. Ye can trust me with the packet," Symms said.

The boy shook his head.

"My orders are to give them into his hands only."

"Well then tis a wait ye have fer yerself. Gone off again he has... gray hair upon gray hair he's givin me. And fer all my service. Thoughtless young pup... never grow up he will! I warrant ye are about the same as he, aren't ye lad? Not a thought fer yer elders, them that takes care of ye. Well let me tell ye a thing or two...." the steward began. Then taking a hold of Jason's coat sleeve, Symms dragged the young boy into the room, sat him down in the chair he had just inhabited and began his first long lecture of the day.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Jason eyed the older man incredulously with the rantings comencement and allowed himself to be dragged into the room. Perhaps, he thought to himself, that it was just an example of what happens to one's mental facalties in Golden Years. Once or twice, young lad made to speak then thought better of it. Such an action might further stoke the other's passions. Jason resigned to stay quiet and resisted the urge to squirm in the chair.

His first confrontation with the elder afore him had been brief, in no way preparing him for the present experience. Just as it seemed there would be reprieve, Symm's regain stregnth in personal convictions. Jason concentracted on choking back laughter and keeping a straight face. The old bird reminded him so greatly of a long ago Papal priest who's sermmons were long winded and far from the solem dignity of Catholic manner. Was it....? Oh yes...Father Donahue, his young mind recalled.

As though Symms sensed his audience of one's thoughts drifting elsewhere, he saw fit to raise his voice to higher levels. The newest presentation being that of disrespect regarding attention given when one was being addressed.

Jason allowed a low sigh, and wished with highest hopes, that the Master of the "house" would not linger overlong where ever it was that he found himself.

[The Empress]

Captain John Sterling

care of The Three Crowns Inn

Port Royal

Jamaica

Sir,

I was never more surprised than when I found you was gonne and Mrs. McKenny and my best gowne with you. When you quit the House, I little imagyned you intended to leave London without seeing me again, much less deprive me of my best Girl and best Dress! Your behaviour is all of a piece and convinces me how much I ought to despise a heart which can dote upon an idiot.

As to Mrs. McKenny, I know not whether I should not admire her cunning more than her simplicity: wonderful both! Not only does she depryve me of the Income she brings, but the vicious Lord Darnley has taken out his wrath on three of her sisters in the House and they stand unable to Work. Indeed an the wounds not knit cleanly, they may be goode for none but scullery maides.

Knows she not that her fame on the stage will not last once she is off it? She will not profite from the memorie of those who fawned upon her. Already a new beautie has replaced her as the talke of London. Tell her that there shall be a playce for her with the Flanders Women in Bankside.

As for your request, dear Sir, do you fancie yourself capable of so entirely perswading me out of my senses that I should deliver my whole fortune into your power, in order to enable you to to support your pleasures at my expence?

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling started off, surprised to see Ioan fall into step along side him.

“I said I am not wanting yer assistance,” Sterling said and then stopped a moment. “All right then, mayhaps I do. Where does the post master abide?” he asked. Ioan almost laughed.

“Right there is the very place he lives and works,” Ioan replied pointing at a place two buildings down from the very spot they stood.

“Well I’ll be,” Sterling said, looking to where the other man indicated.

“I fear they won’t be open for business yet,” Ioan explained.

“We shall see about that,” Sterling said more to himself than to his company. “Come along then, perhaps you may be of assistance after all.”

Sterling made his way quickly to the door Ioan had pointed out and pounded his fist upon it.

“Hello! Open up I say!” He continued to bang upon the wooden barrier until he heard a window above him open. He took a step back and looked upward. First a lit candle was thrust through the open portal and then a night capped head soon followed.

“What …what is it? Who’s there?” a man called down.

“John Sterling, Captain of the Archangel. I need to see to the latest post. I am wanting a letter from England!”

“Aye, the post did come in…late last night with The Falcon. But, you foolish dolt, come back when I’m open. Tis too early, the sun’s not yet up! Drunken lout!”

“Nay sir, the sun is well on its way about its business and so must you be as well. You may have something that belongs to me and I need it now!” Sterling insisted.

“Nay sir, then you will have to wait…as like the others!”

Sterling watched as head and candle pulled back inside.

“Then sir, I shall kick yer door in and help myself,” Sterling shouted. Ioan still lingering close by felt his own stomach turn a bit as the captain immediately set foot to the door. The wood groaned inward with the blow but did not open instantly. This time Sterling threw his shoulder to it and a creak was heard as the door began to splinter.

Once again the head popped outward and this time it’s owner glared downward.

“What the hell do you think you are about ?”

“Fetching my letter!” Sterling growled as he threw himself against the door once more. This time the crack of wood was loud, audible to all in attendance on the scene.

“Damn yer eyes!” the head shouted and once again withdrew, the window crashing down as Sterling once more threw himself into action. This time the strain was too much and the door flew open, slamming with a thud against the wall behind it, splinters of wood scattering through the air as it gave in to the pressure it could not longer resist.

Ioan watched, not sure whether to be impressed or to turn and make himself scarce before the watch chanced to appear at the end of the street.

Sterling did not hesitate but welcomed himself inside the building as the head, now complete in form appeared at the base of the stairs, pistol in hand.

“Take care you scoundrel, or I will fire upon you!” the post master threatened.

“Not if I shoot ye first,” Sterling said. “I am looking for a letter. Tis from London town, from the Empress of the Seven Seas. Find it quickly and then you can return to the warmth of yer bed.”

“More like have you arrested I shall,” the man replied.

“Not if you know what is good for ye,” Sterling said. “You are looking for something addressed to Sir John Sterling… now be about finding it! I do not wish to dally any longer.”

“Sir?” the post master said. This time his tone a bit more willing.

“Ye heard me,” Sterling said moving toward a counter.

“Aye then, sir… Sir?”

“John Sterling.”

It took only a moment longer before the post master lowered his weapon and moved, candle in hand to claim a large leather bag. This was quickly emptied upon the counter and both men set to rummaging amongst the letters and small packages littered there.

“Ah!” the post master announced the first to set eyes and hand upon the letter in question. Sterling quickly snatched the item from him. “Oi there be postage due on that!”

“You will get it…in time,” Sterling grinned as he turned back toward the door. “Now back to yer bed with ye!”

He made his way outside, Ioan coming along side him once again. Breaking the seal he held the letter out, moved about the street for better light, than fished, somewhat annoyed at the need to do so, and pulled a quizzing lense from beneath his waistcoat front. “Ah my dear Habibi…” Sterling muttered to himself as he passed the lense quickly over the letter. “I knew I could…depend….” Ioan watched as the man’s face began to change. The smile slowly changing to one of confusion and then abject horror. “No, Cate… no…tis not what ye ….” Before his very eyes Ioan watched as the proud, albeit rather drunk captain slowly began to crumble before him.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The matched Grays turned curious attention in unison to Mister Delaney's aquire of driver's post. The paddock, once full of equine host, was now in state of depleation with a handfull of original numbers within its borders. Quiet conversation drifted early morning still as the Faithful waited patiently to begin Port trek. Enclosed carriage had been maticulously attended to, its exterior offering dull reflection of subdued morning light. Lots had been drawn and a smattering of men milled about equine crowded yard in wait of brethren departure. Even in times as this, the cottage's surround would not be deserted completely.

Aurore emerged from domocile shadow accompanied by Megan, the waterfall of rich wine silks a splash of contrast to company's ink hued cladding. The area was overcome with respectful hush and Christophe moved around carriage side as aid to entrance. He waited placidly until both females were seated, than swung door securly to latch click.

Last minute check was made to blue roan's tether on carriage rear, then saddle was gained on familiar Bay. Signal was given to Delaney's waiting eyes, and slowly the percession moved forward out of folliage cover to the main road beyond. There was no urgency to progress, just steady traverse. Soon enough, wide vista of cane fields would give way to outcropping of wooden architecture; gaining more prominence as the Port neared.

They would travel the narrow streets until reaching field of stone monuments within town's looming enclosure. Here they would wait patiently for Beggar Prince and the final walking home of Irish Rose.

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling read the letter through, in disbelief he re-read it, not once but thrice. For a moment his hands shook and he turned away from the young man next to him. “I am lost,” he whispered. “She thinks I have betrayed her and now there is not time for yet another letter to pass between us. My God, even then she may not still believe me. Oh God, Cate how could you ever think I would do such a thing to you, of all people?”

It was several long, agonizing minutes before the captain was able to turn back to Ioan, his expression such as Ioan had never witnessed before. Were there even tears in the man’s eyes? Sterling could barely breathe. He watched as the captain awkwardly tucked the epistle into coat pocket. In an instant the man was stone cold sober, painfully so.

“Sir,” Sterling whispered. “I can give thee nothing but I would be ever grateful, if you would see me back to The Three Crownes.”

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling walked back to The Three Crownes thoroughly defeated. Ioan, for some strange reason, remaining close at hand despite the quiet between the two. Outside the inn, Sterling once again turned to the younger man.

“Thank ye. I am indebted to ye. There is not much that I have upstairs but there is a bottle of Madeira, tis yers if ye be willing to accept it?” he asked. Ioan only nodded and followed the captain inside and up the stairs to a room at the back of the inn. As the two approached Jones climbed to his feet from his chair and nodded a greeting to his captain.

“Quiet now is she?” Sterling asked. “Fallen asleep has she?” Jones immediately knew something was wrong, he did not know the man that now spoke to him at the far end of the hall.

“She still has her caller sir,” Jones answered. “Beggin yer pardon sir, but are ye…” he stopped as Sterling looked away.

“Thank ye Mr. Jones,” Sterling said. He unlatched the door to the room and opened it, Ioan hovering in the frame as Sterling entered the room. He stood and waited a moment looking surprised to see Symms and some poor child captive. “Ahem…” the captain said, clearing his throat. Symms paused in mid-sentence, took a deep breath, Jason thought the old man had not done so in hours, then turned to see who was interrupting his sermon.

“AH Captain Sterling sir, I be just telling this here whelp…”Symms began. “Are ye all right sir?”

Sterling waved away the old man‘s concerned question and looked at the boy still seated in the chair by the fireplace.

“Ah yes, I can see that ye have. He has not kept thee long has he lad?” Sterling asked his voice a whisper.

It was obvious the boy was not one to lie by his remaining silent to the captain’s question.

“The lad has brought ye a letter he has,” Symms explained. “Would not trust it to my keeping this time, he would not.”

“Of course. Thank ye Mr. Symms…Oh and Symms see to the gentleman in the doorway. Give him a bottle of the Madeira… the better Malmsy if ye please. Come along lad, what have ye for me?” Sterling asked collapsing on the bed with a heavy sigh.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Jason watched the interchange occuring in the midst, minding his tongue well as was expected of him. Pale eyes followed the Captain to cushioned support and with cautious step, he left heathside post to come nearer.

"Mine Mistress sent me with these and I was tol' not to give them to anyone but yerself, sir."

The bundle was laid on bed alter; then the medallion withdrawn and held forward, next came the sealed communique'. Jason moved back a pace,

"Mistress Devareaux tol' me to wait if you had any questions or reply. She and the others should be in the Port by now."

[Capt. Sterling]

The bundle was laid on bed alter; then the medallion withdrawn and held forward, next came the sealed communique'. Jason moved back a pace,

"Mistress Devareaux tol' me to wait if you had any questions or reply. She and the others should be in the Port by now."

"She's here?" Sterling said sitting up suddenly.

"And a good lad thou are too," Sterling said, brightening a bit at the sound of Aurore's name. He took the letter, hesitating a moment, fearing all too much that it would be naught but further bad news. "Tis all well with thy mistress?" he asked, unbreaking the seal and unfolding the paper. He did not wait for the boy's response, but quickly retreived the lense and began to read.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Jason resisted hasty retreat with Sterling's sudden movement. He took no offense to the other's abrupt actions, simply answered what had been asked of him.

"Aye, sir...I have been here a bit; they should be near or in the Port by now. Goin' to say God's speed to a friend on the last journey. Mistress Devareaux is fine as much as I could be tellin', sir."

He shifted nervously in his footing then came to rest.

[Capt. Sterling]

"Hurry Symms, I need to change," Sterling said moving quickly from the bed. "Are ye certain she is here?" he asked the boy yet again, all sense of protocol vanished. "The black coat," the captain said.

"Again?" Symms asked.

"Aye I need to repay my respects to the very people who may save my ship now that Cate has..." he faltered in his words, an ache taking tight hold of his insides at the thought of how he had failed the Empress constantly in the past. "Tis not her fault," he said more to himself than the others. He took up the medallion and placed in his waistcoat pocket.

"No sir!" the boy spoke.

Sterling halted and glanced down at the young man.

"Ye do not understand the value of that," Jason continued, pointing to the pocket that now housed the emblem. "Tis from her, herself. Ye must keep it safe sir."

Sterling studied the boy's expression for a moment, then nodded his head. Quickly undoing his cravat, he removed it and his shirt, then placed the medallion about his neck. "A new shirt will do as well Mr. Symms and hurry. Can ye take me to her?" the captain asked as the boy shifted from foot to foot.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Jason froze stock still at the request. The options whirled in his mind and finally settled on proper course. The fact that it was an event taking place in public eye did not sacrifice secrets...The fact that Aurore had been willing to part with the medallion said much more.

"Aye, sir. I can...You may use my horse an' I can lead on foot. Tis not far from here."

[Capt. Sterling]

"Ye hear that Symms! I'll be needing my boots and spurs ...again."

[Rateye]

His sleep continually disturbed from the wheezing and guttural snoring from Doctor Easterly of which rocked the building, Reiley sat up and eventually dressed.

As he walked past the good doctor’s chamber, Reiley paused and then continued on his way with a smirk, having denied the urge to seize a pillow and suffocate the sleeping troll and thereby end the racket that had plagued his sleep.

As Reiley took in the morning air, the sun had just risen and the street was coming to life. Though he hated waking early, he had always loved the way a new morning felt, as if anything was possible… Even for a scoundrel such as himself.

This day he would dedicate his efforts to locating he needed medical supplies for his endevor aboard the Archangel. But with the good captain in financial distress, Reiley was bewildered as to the source of which he would pay for said medicines. He would also send a word to a pair of compatriots which might be of assistance in locating a certain assasin whom lurked about. But nonetheless it was time for breakfast, so it was there that he was go.

[Aurore Devareaux]

The side street leading off High Street to the grave yard was congested, as well as the one on the opposit side. In the midst of the gathered sat the carriage, pulled to one side of main thorough fare and awaiting main percession. Christophe remained mounted, keeping attention sharp to the milling chaos.

Atop mount's vantage, approach from further up caught his focus. Old Tucker was recognized, but his keeper was afoot. Christophe turned the Bay around to better see what he thought was glimpsed. Unwilling to leave the carriage, he kept post and deliberated whether he should let passengers know of Sterling's impending arrival.

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling leaned forward and patted the horse gently upon the neck. It was not use to someone of his size and perhaps the crowd surrounding it. As mount pranced anxiously, he coaxed it toward the carriage the boy had pointed out to him. As the crowd pressed more closely about him, Sterling turned in the saddle, Jason slowly being caught in the wave of human bodies and pulled astern.

"Give me yer hand lad," he called out to the boy and with a strange and unexpected ease, hoisted the boy up behind the saddle. "Cannot have ye drowning on dry land."

[Aurore Devareaux]

The conversations without were as one massed and blended thrum. Aurore was becoming restless with so much humanity in the surround and pushed aside curtain blockage to view the masses. Her eyes immediatly fell on Christophe and the Bay, diligently acting as buffer to the hoards. When he did not change his center of attention for the passing of minutes, she leaned outward carriage window to glean what kept his focus so rapt.

It was then that Aurore saw Sterling and Jason pressing through the human seas and regardless to the heaviness of her heart; a smile spread across aquiline features at the sight.

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling's heart skipped a beat when he saw her. So pleased was he at such a sight that his sudden reining in of mount, caused the poor horse to light upward onto his haunches. People tried to move from the animal's proximity and it was Jason's soothing voice that brought Old Tucker back to normal.

"Adults!" the boy thought angrily to himself and rolled his eyes.