Port Royal, Jamaica

[Aurore Devareaux]

All oil fed flame had been doused save for lone sentry dilligently remaining at post upon bedside surface. Breeze making noble efforts thru velvet drape blockade, had risen with the moon and with it, the chamber gained more comforting temperature. Doctor Rieley paid visitation earlier, after appetite sate of dinner offerings. His overall impression of current circumstance seemed of positive manner; the three conversing briefly before he begged leave.

Aurore stirred from latest catnap, attention drawn imediately to Sterling's sleeping form. Once again, a stray lock of tow hue was brushed away from brow and placed into check. She watched over him, the soft rise an fall of his chest; the peaceful expression that lay over his features in quiet repose. Glancing away to windows' presence, her eye was captured by phantom qualities on reflective panes. The varying dance of bonfire existance teased glazier surface, but seemed struck dumb this night; normality of musical call and revelries in absence.

He moved slightly; a minute change of sleep laden position which drew her attentive center. A sigh-like exhalation escaped battered torso, but gave no further disruption to the calm silence laying over the room like heavy quilt. Carefully shifting, Aurore laid hint of lip christening upon his own, then closed dark tinctured sights; lulled to sleep by the steady rythem of his breathing and night symphonies by nocturnal fauna.

[Ian Finn]

Pushing my brother out of the way, I look into the chest. Several pistols and rounds of ammunition lay in the bottom. A few knives, some the size of a dagger, lay there as well. "Well fekkin' 'ell. 'e musta ben reg'lar army an' all". Stuffing the weapons into our belts we fish about for any clothes the man may have lying about. Two pair of slops, a very large shirt, a vest, and a woolen cap were are that we found. Quickly changing out of our wet trousers, Liam donned the shirt, while I was left with the vest.

Once again placing the firearms in our breeches, we ate the rest of the biscuits and honey the man had on the table and removed two bottles from his collection. Finding a small bag of shillings, Liam placed that in his pocket and extinguished the candle above the mantle. Nodding at Liam, I exit the shanty and look both ways upon the wide path for any alarm that may have been raised. "Clear."

[Ransom]

As Professor Trilby and I lingered over the Port, shadows crept across the patio, to finally engulf us in blessed shade. Noise increased from the street below, as the cooling temperature brought out those who had hidden indoors during the hottest part of the day. The smell of roasting meats drifted on the evening breeze.

My host, on his third glass of the dark amber liquid, looked to be almost asleep. The silver goblet dangled precariously from one limp hand.

I needed to get back the Rakehell, but I had one more question I wanted to ask the man. "Professor Trilby?" I shook his robe-draped knee.

"Aye, wha..." He sat up suddenly, dropping the goblet onto the tiles, where it clanged like a church bell. "Oh, sorry. I musta dozed off a bit."

I picked up the empty vessel and put it back on the table. "You asked earlier who had Killingsworth killed this time? You have proof he has killed before?"

Trilby's bushy brows lowered in a scowl. "Nae, nothing but the conviction in mae own mind. He murdered a young charwoman who tended the fires in mae room at Oxford. Lovely little creature. Louisa was her name. Killingsworth visited me to turn in a late assignment and saw her. Three days later she came to mae, all in tears, begging that I should tell the man tae leave her alone. That he was making unwanted advances that she had done everything to discourage. I told her nae tae fret, and that I would speak tae the scoundrel. Which I did." Trilby paused, looking out over the city, his expression changing from anger to one of regret.

Even though I knew what the ending of the tale would be, I asked, "What happened?"

Trilby's eyes flared, the anger back twofold. "He killed her, that's what. Oh, nae that anyone could prove it. Her body was found behind a local tavern. Someone had...had abused her in the most personal way, stabbed her, and left her body in the snow. Well, I kenned right off who had done it. Confronted the bastard. At first he just laughed at me, but when I told him I'd go to the Don's of the school, that stopped him."

I shrugged. "What could the school do? Killingsworth is minor nobility."

"Aye, that's true enough, but were suspicion tae fall on him, the scandal would be enough tae force his family tae send him off tae the continent for a season or two."

"Did they?"

"Nae, the term was near up. It was Killingsworth's last year. I was only too glad tae be rid of him."

I stretched, walked to the low wall and looked down on the street. I saw no guards, so apparently the search had been called off. I thought of Killingsworth's body slumped over the shoulder of the stranger. I thought of the bloody handerchief in my strongbox, and the jeweled snuff box in my pocket. I seemed to be picking up quite a few of Mr. Kilingsworth's belongings. If he lived through the night, which I doubted he would, I wondered if we should meet again, and under what circumstances.

I turned to my host. "You've been most kind, but I must go."

He rose from the chair. "Well, you're most welcome tae visit again. I've enjoyed our little talk, even if it did bring up troubling memories. And you...er, Ransom. Where might I find you, if I was in a mood tae share another bottle of Port?"

I smiled. "At the docks. On board the Rakehell."

His brows lifted in surprise. "The Rakehell?" I could almost see the wheels turning within his brain. Then the brows lowered and he glared at me. "And, just what the devil is your connection tae that ship?'

Alarm bells went off in my head, and I readied myself for defence or escape. "This is the Rakehell's first visit to Port Royal. How do you know the ship, sir?"

"Because a lady friend of mine had a nephew on board a ship called the Mariah. He arrived in Port Royal with six of his mates, all half starved and dying of thirst. They told how Mariah was boarded and then burned by the crew of a ship flying black colors and called the Rakehell. So, I ask you again, Lady, what is your connection tae that cursed ship?"

I moved closer to the low wall, turned, gave him a theatric bow, an evil grin and replied, "I'm her captain." Then dropped over the wall, slid down an awning, grabbed a lantern bracket, and swung myself to the street.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Christophe resecured night before's seating at fire's edge. The lute of aged body leaned near, ready at hand for call of duty; nevertheless holding sweet tongue as other brethren did in proximity. The endless game of shadow and firelight played over the defined planes of cheek and jawling to reflect liquid surface of slate hue sights. Sights that ignored upper story of cottage existance as the trained upward to pregnant moon wallowing in night heavens.

The Frenchman's attention remained there for sometime as though silently courting enchanting orb of coquette manner. A small shift of shadowplay near far outbuilding broke rapt enamourment, causing narrow of eye. With nonchalant rising, he streached with feline grace then moved towards opposit cottage side. Rounding rear corner, Christophe paused at barrel blockade and focused intently where anomily had occured.

Equine cousins stood paddock encompasement in various posturing; no hint of alarm given to instinct of prey animal. Easing to the treeline, Paris Thief applied skills of trade to gain outbuilding blockade and paused again as if tasting the air. As he moved forward to rear legnth of wooden uprights, silkened purr of Jamaican patois called with Siren's lure and brought a hint of smile to swarthy features. Papillon slinked around palm circumfrence into better view as he turned slightly to give sidelong glance.

Mocha skinned nymph reached one hand forward with invitation; an invitaion that he would not deny. She looked to him for a momment in consideration before disturbing the night's silence.

"Time to move on now, boy. Dey heart you cherish be in annuder's keepin..."

Delicate fingers lightly traced the exposed flesh of his back, " Time to go down to dey stream an wash away dey worries of yer soul, body an mind...."

[Capt. Sterling]

He moved slightly; a minute change of sleep laden position which drew her attentive center. A sigh-like exhalation escaped battered torso, but gave no further disruption to the calm silence laying over the room like heavy quilt. Carefully shifting, Aurore laid hint of lip christening upon his own, then closed dark tinctured sights; lulled to sleep by the steady rythem of his breathing and night symphonies by nocturnal fauna.

Sterling awoke to find the Doctor standing beside him, already removing the dirty linen bandages.

"Good morning," Reiley said, his voice low, his concentration fixed more on the task at hand than the man in the bed.

Sterling barely grunted in reply, his concentration on the empty space at his right. Already the sheets where she lay had cooled. Aurore had gotten up early for some reason and he hoped all was well.

"Hmm," the doctor mused and the captain finally looked up at him, his eye brows arched slightly.

"Raise your arm fer me," Reiley said.

"Pardon?" Sterling replied.

"Go on, raise your arm," the doctor repeated.

"My left one?" Sterling asked.

"Aye, that would be the one I've taken an interest in," Reiley answered.

Sterling's eyes narrowed a bit at the request, "Are ye daft man?"

[Ransom]

Admitting to Professor Trilby that I was captain of the Rakehell was a rash bit of egotistical bravado that could cause me a great deal of trouble. But as I trotted through the crowded street, I wasn't worried. For some strange reason, I didn't think Trilby would report me to the authorities. I suspected, although I couldn't say just why, that he and I would become friends—or at least I hoped we would. I quite liked the man.

After making a few inquiries, I was directed to a jewelers, where I bartered the snuff box away for half its worth, but for more than enough to help pay for the provisions being loaded on board my ship.

As I got nearer the docks, I forgot about Trilby and Killingsworth. My immediate problem was Ioan. I had to decide whether to keep him on board, where I could monitor his movements, or banish him from the crew. My first inclination was to be rid of the man. I had enough to worry about without having to watch my back due to a traitorous first mate. But I feared, loose in the city, he could do me more damage than if I kept him on board.

Once out at sea, I mused, he might meet with an unfortunate accident.

[Aurore Devareaux]

She had woken with restlessness as dawn colored the heavens with lavender hues. Fearing she would disturb his rest, Aurore had carefully removed herself from four posted shrine and adorned toffee flesh in simple cotton. Securing heavy door quietly, unclad feet padded legnth of hall and downward to kitchen's comfort.

Perching atop sturdy table that not too long in the past had served medical wants, she considered the whirlwind of events leading to this momment. Aurore's usual keel of clarity had listed slightly and she found herself longing for Sabastian's company. It was overwhelming in some senses, like trying to tread water in tempest struck seas.

Overhead, she heard the echo of upper floor doorway swing and assumed one of two guests had risen. The resound of adult footstep wafted downward in passage to hall's far end followed by hailing rap on furthest chamber door. Aurore cocked her head in attentive manner to Doctor Reiley's early morning visitation. Knowing that Sterling would be attended for some amount of time, she left heavy oak perch to gain the freshening air without.

The stillness of cottage proxy was tranquility portrait, the air tinged with the remains of fire from hours before. Few were about in these rising hours of new day and those that were offered silent salutation as she passed. Smallish burble of stream played to her ears and redirected her course to gain its' side.

Settling on bank's incline, one bare foot dangled in stream's whim as dark eyes closed to further appreciate the trill of local avian. Little by little, the tension haunting delicate smooth of muscle gave into the serenade of fresh water travel, but it was short lived at best. The end over end intent of smallish stone striking liquid surface brought her eyes wide with full attention.

Across the short distance on opposit bank, Christophe leaned on near trunk support. They looked at each other without the disturbance of words briefly before he closed the distance of water barrier and sat next to her. They remained that way, side by side with nary a word as Dawn retreated the field; giving way to Sun chariot's steadfast arrival.

[Capt. Sterling]

"Go on, raise your arm," the doctor repeated.

"My left one?" Sterling asked.

"Aye, that would be the one I've taken an interest in," Reiley answered.

Sterling's eyes narrowed a bit at the request, "Are ye daft man?"

"Hurts does it?" Reiley asked. "Good."

Sterling fought down the urge to grab the good doctor about the throat, instead he glared at him quietly.

"Be glad it hurts," the doctor continued. "You have your feeling at least. I think you would hate to lose your arm as well as your eye, would you not? Surely Mr. March has his hands full as it tis, looking after you in a battle."

Sterling could only sigh and look away. The doctor's reply was all too true.

"Right then," Reiley continued. "A banyan for you and we shall take a small walk about the house."

"We?"

"Yes sir. I have noticed that folks that do so after an injury seem to fair much better than them that don't. So up with you captain, of course I shall be with you."

Sterling felt like arguing. He was hot and cross and he wondered where she had gotten herself off to. He had grown so use to her being about.

"Come along sir," Reiley insisted. Slowly they made their way down the hall and then the stairs. By the time they made their way out the front door, it did not seem all that hard to the captain. Soon he was grateful for Reiley's suggestion.

"Orders, not suggestions," the doctor had corrected him. "Get used to taking orders from me Captain and I promise I shall do my best to keep you and the others alive. A bit further, I think."

And they continued onward until Sterling stopped and saw her, sitting quietly with Christophe. For a moment he smiled, and then the thoughts that the French man did indeed care for her more than she realized rapidly began to gnaw at him. Perhaps she cared for him as well, more than she knew? He turned to Reiley then, grabbing at his arm and leaning heavily upon the doctor for support.

"I wish to return to the house," Sterling whispered.

"What is it?" Reiley asked growing concerned.

"I think I am going to be ill...."

[Cheeky Actress]

In the early morning light, Symms stood at the doorway in front of the room that was now the forgotten jail of Mistress McKinney. “Ye think that yer free, eh?” Muttered the old man as he watched her gather glove and wrap. “What if Killingsworth isn’t dead? Yer life is still in jeopardy, Mistress. I do not think Captain Sterling would like it much if he were to hear that yer walking about Port Royal without a proper escort!” Lilly turned and looked at Symms. “I will not be alone. The waif will be my guide and protector. I must see my Captain and the boy will give me safe passage to the cottage. Besides, knowing that Doctor Reiley is with him makes me feel a tad bit better, but still.” She said with a small reluctant sigh. “I must speak with him and know that he is well.”

Mistress Lilly pressed her way passed Symms as she made her way into the hallway. There on a small stool sat the boy. “Are you sure that you know the way?” She whispered to the waif then pulled out a coin for him. “Yes, yes Mistress I do.” “Good, then wait for me downstairs for a moment. I shall be there shortly.” The boy did as she asked.

As Symms occupied himself with cleaning up the spare room in which Mistress Lilly has trashed the night before, she slowly made her way into Captain Sterling’s room. As first, she did not know where to look for the object of her desire. Then she pondered for a moment. “Hmm…if I were…” Then she walked over to a small chest sitting upon the Captain’s writing desk. She opened it only to find it empty. “Bloody h…” Then she flipped the chest over and knocked hard on the bottom. “Ah!” She said with a smile. Taking up a small knife she pried open the box to find the bag of money Rateye had bestowed upon the Captain only a few days earlier. Symms had taken to hiding it away for safe keeping. “Fool! Did you not think that I would find it?” She said to herself as she tucked the bag of coins into her petticoat, then giggling to herself thinking, “I’ve got money in me skirts!” and finding the whole episode very ironic.

As she smoothes her skirts, she looked down the hall way to see if Symms had noticed her. She tip-toed down the hall and made her way down to the waif who was sitting in the Tavern. “Come Boy.” She said with a smile. “I have much to tell our good Captain.

[Aurore Devareaux]

The faint convayance of voices in arears drew Christophe's focus to the yard behind. Aurore's thoughts wandering, it was not until Frenchman's movement that she took any notice of company in near proximity. A smile began to trace her expression, but was halted abruptly at what transpired next.

Rising quickly from cool earth seating she stepped around Christophe and crossed green breadth with haste. Aurore's mind raced with possiblities in regard to Sterling's discomfort and it made no matter to her that Medicine Man was present. Guilt plagued her heart that she should have never left his side; that she should have remained vigilant and remained near.

[Capt. Sterling]

"Thank you that will be enough for now," Sterling said as the doctor and he made their way back to the room.

"I would like to see to changing the dressing," Reiley said.

"Later perhaps. I wish to be alone for a bit," the captain said. He felt worse, all manner of thought no longer gnawing but eating hungrily away at him.

"It would be..." the doctor began.

"I said get out! Damnation!!! LEAVE ME BE!" Sterling shouted and fell back into a chair. "Please..."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore paused step on stairwell landing tenatively as frozen doe with the roar from hall's end. Moving forward once again, her pace quickened which caused near collision with Doctor Reiley as he emergered from wooden portal. He gave her an odd expression that was a mixture of many things compiled into one. Aurore briefly laid a hand on near arm before continuing past and closing the door carefully held place by portal companionship.

Dark eyes tried to read Sterling's own and she wavered betwixt approach and retreat by what was viewed there...

[Capt. Sterling]

"I wish to be alone," he said, controlling his tone as best he could and yet he feared what would happen if she walked back out into the hall. He could not explain how he suddenly felt, his heart racing within him, not from excitment but from dread at hearing something from her lips he did not wish to hear. It was as if he had forgotten how to breathe as well, having to remind himself with a deep intake of air. At least the horrid sensation of his heart plumetting into his stomach when he had first seen them together had now turned to numbness. He closed his eyes, trying to tell himself in his mind, it was far too soon to feel this way about her, about anyone. He could only close his eyes, wishing that when he opened them he would find he had only been dreaming...

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore lingered like a shadow cast by tallow flame, her expression disclosing what confussion lay deep within. Half hearted step was made towards him to be paused in progress. Turning, the ornate door knob was grasped then rotated. One hesitant glance was given before she stepped through threshold's framing, closing what was opened behind.

[Capt. Sterling]

He did not watch her go. He did not need to, it was all to easy to listen to the soft footfall as she returned through the door, the latch clicking into place as she closed it behind her. He should have spoken to her, confronted her as to why she would be alone with someone she said she did not care for to the extent he believed she did.

As he walked with Reiley, aye there was pain, but he had felt good by moving about.... now he felt miserable, older, and alone. He pulled himself from the chair, knocking a small tea table to the floor with his clumsy efforts, then made his way back to the bed. He considered penning a letter to Cate, surely she would know what to do and he remembered her last letter to him. He suddenly felt weary and wanted only to sleep. The doctor can keep his damn walks to himself, he thought. He could no longer see the point.

[Aurore Devareaux]

What confusion that had harried Aurore's senses in the kitchen earlier multiplied trifold. She left the cottage's normal feel of security, crossing around to paddock's standing border. Amonst the equine brethren in various states of repose, stood one of ever favor.

Softly she whistled for Barb's attention and was answered by nickering response. Over the wooden cross beams she climbed and made for outbuilding of tack holdings. Simple bridle was procured then applied to Spanish mount waiting with curiosity.

Muscled back aquired, Barb was made to circle Paddock's encompassement with urged speed then turned to straight heading, clearing highest rung. Dust rose as hoof strike assulted terra firm, followed by harmonic rhythem leaving cottage proximity for fields beyond folliage barrier.

[Capt. Sterling]

But sleep would not come easily to him. With each effort to gain comfort he discovered only pain... and soon his coarse shouts rang through out the cottage as he shouted for the doctor to return.

[Rateye]

"On your feet lad! Ordered Reiley, as he woke young Mr. Davis. "Grab that box of physics and.... Don't worry about your shoes, by God! Just grab the medicines boy!"

As Reiley and Davis darted down the hall, they could hear the captain's cries for help. It was obvious he was in pain, for a man would hardly make such sounds if not.

"May I enter Sir?" questioned Reiley as he knocked on the door, knowing to be cautious around a man of action.

"For God'sake man! Get in here!" Bellowed the captain.

Pushing the door open, Reiley placed the candle holder on the table next to the captains bed.

"Hot water, now!" Reiley ordered Davis, who immediately raced from the room.

"Here!" offered Reiley, as he placed a pair of small opiate leaves in the Captain's mouth. "Don't swollow them, simply chew and keep under your tongue."

"Pig-headed and stubborn!" thought Reiley, as he cleaned off his bladed fleam and tied a band around the captain's forearm near his elbow.

"Not so easy to maintain a proper balance when the patient is off his rocker, now is it?!"

[Capt. Sterling]

"Oi belay such talk!" Sterling grumbled. He winced as Reiley purposely jerked the ends of the band tighter than necessary.

"Remember Captain, Sir, in certain matters the doctor always has the last "word. Now just try and relax surely you've worked yourself into a frenzy for some odd reason..." Almost immediately Sterling responded by sinking downward against the pillows, his entire form slumping, himself falling quiet. "Hmmm the drugs don't work that fast. So then I have struck a cord have I?"

"I want you to find Mistress Devareaux and bring her... ask her to come back to the house. I must needs speak with her."

"Thought as much," Reiley mumbled under his breath. "All right then sir, as soon as I quiet ye down a bit. I can not have you bursting yer sutures...especially over a girl."

Sterling looked up quickly at the doctor. Reiley only smiled, then smiled the more as the captain frowned and looked away.

[Rateye]

As the door flew open, the young Mr. Davis quickly sloshed his way into the room.

"We'll be bleedin' him then?" Davis almost cheered, as he hurried with a bucket of hot water almost as big as he. Then quickly ducked his head, as the captain shot him a slighted eye.

"On the contrary Mr. Davis." Reiley answered, as he continued to examine the good captain and his wound. "However, while I change the captain's dressings, you will find one of Mistress Devareaux's attendants. Explain that the captain requests a word, do not dare go looking for the lady herself, remember you are a guest."

"Right sir!" replied Davis, as he took to his task.

For a moment, the wasn't a word spoken between either Reiley or the Captain as the Captain's wound was being cleaned. It was obvious that the situation was somewhat uncomfortable, yet honest words would eventually be needed.

"Alright Captain," Started Reiley, as he continued dressing the Captain's wound. "I'm not one to just force opinion onto anyone. I've spent the last few years not giving a damn for anyone but my own self.... But for some reason I find myself tending to you. Which in itself is remarkable since in truth, I've taken more lives than I've saved. However, I am a man of my word and therefore I will attempt to serve in the capacity of which my station is required."

"Does your station also include the local vickor?" Growled Sterling, becomming annoyed at the unexpected sermon.

"Not at all." Answered Reiley as he allowed a stitch to be caught by the wash cloth, causing Sterling to wince. "But I will say this for you Captain Sterling..... There are a good many souls, including me own self, who rely on your well being.... Now I could easily return to a life of lawless pursuit. However, I doubt your entire crew, let alone others would be as fortunate...... So I'll say this planely...... You sir , need to pull your head from.."

Suddenly there was a gentle knocking at the door.

[Liam Finn]

Feeling better in dry clothes and well armed, I creep out into the night, Ian right behind me. Not another living person in sight, so we stop the sneaking and walk towards the lights of the town of Port Royal, hoping to find a tavern or some place to find a meal and a drink. We look at each other and grin at the weapons and new clothes.

[Ransom]

Professor Trilby rushed to the wall as the strange woman dropped over it to the street below. His first thought was to shout for the guards, but he hesitated. "Bloody woman," he grumbled, then stepped away from the ledge. No, he thought, he would not call the guards and have her arrested. In fact, he had enjoyed her company. "Must be getting soft in mae head." Besides, he was not in the habit of attracting unwanted attention to his house. Having the Governor's guards on his doorstep, and possibly searching his rooms, would not do at all.

Adjusting his turban, which had fallen askew, he left the rooftop patio and descended the stairs to the lower floors. Cleopatra followed on silent paws. Sulfur still tainted the air. "Souris, God skin your hide, where are you?"

There was no answer from the servant boy, so Trilby assumed he had not yet returned to the house. Exasperated, he peered into the study. The room was a disaster of broken glass, spilled chemicals, and a fluid, still hissing puddle on the floor, which was eating its way through the boards. Once again his experiment had not had the desired outcome.

He picked up the ancient leather book, shook glass shards from its yellowed pages, and read the entry again, checking to see that all the ingredients had been correct, their measure accurate.

Scratching his beard, he pondered aloud, "May hap it was the salamander tongue that was nae sae fresh."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Christophe had noted the direction of Aurore's departure and had briefly contemplated following then decided against it. There was no danger in the direction she had chosen and it would not have been the first time particular bearing had been set. Muffeled clamor brought his attention to the cottage, pausing his action of hand pump water draw.

Unsure of what could stir such ruckus and verbose of foul qualities, the Frenchman deserted intentions of rinsing off and returned through main entrance. Standing foyer's surround, he watched as youngest guest hurried upwards with heated basin. Following in young boy's wake, stairs were traversed to upper floor trail; voices echoing back to his ears at varying degrees of mood and volume.

Exhaling with something kindred to exasperation, he continued toward last chamber to investigate goings on. Far door opened, producing young Davis haloed in dim lumination of door's maw. Christophe paused progression as the boy neared asking pardon before inquiring as Reiley had requested. With messege delivered, the Frenchman instructed that Davis should visit the kitchen and procure sampling of morning's break of fast. Davis smiled readily to the offering and moved on in controlled hurry to obtain what scented the air with inviting aroma.

Light knock of courtesy was issued as Christophe entered bed chamber; a nod of acknowledgement given to Reiley, " Doctuer, when you 'ave finished with demands placed 'ere..." his eyes drifted to Sterling briefly. "I am sure that you will find sate of appetite below quite pleasurable. We do not live in over indulgence, but simple fare when properly 'andled is very contenting."

Moving closer to foot board rise, the Frenchman eyed Sterling with aloof manner, " As to your request delivered by young monsuier...Mademoiselle is away at present. What is it that you wish?"

[Rateye]

"You were saying doctor?" insisted Sterling, ignoring the interruption.

Pausing for a moment, Reiley realized the good captain was already aware of what he was about to say. Furthermore with the offer for a meal that could already be described as smelling wonderful, he felt it unnecessary to continue with his preaching.

"I believe it time to eat!" smiled Reiley with a smug grin, as he ended his parental thrashing.

"Now see here! Insisted Sterling

However the doctor was already walking out of the room.

"I'll be sure to have some delicious broth brought up, " Added Reiley, as he excused himself. "We shouldn't eat too hearty, now should we! Bon appetite mon Capi-tan!"

[Aurore Devareaux]

In morning's greyish hours, side door of end structure was opened to salt tinged breeze. Bobbing near on fluid whims, nondescript launch awaited passengers from within, a wait that was not overlong. Moored comfortably further out, mid sized fishing vessel rode anchorage; its' service a continuation of what smaller craft would begin. The rustle of iron chain abrassion to self and planking underfoot sang song of damnation and condemned souls as one of party's number was rough handled towards structure opening. No mercy was given in regard to sight being hampered by hood crowning; any stumble was furthered by hard shove and harsher words.

Childermass did not so much ease Killingsworth into sweep driven concave, but delivered one of countless directional blows resulting in quick drop just within transome vacinity. The passage of launch to fisher, then fisher on to outlaying barrier islands was swiftly managed as if racing to beat the sun. Destination seen off larboard bow, Fisher's anchor was once again released at capstan's command.

Offloaded once again into smaller craft relay, any protest was ignored by hooded guest. Sweeps dipped and pulled semi-resistant element in steadfast cadance as isle was neared. With shallows under keel, oars were released from duties and transgressor was relieved of seating on curved bottom to be forced overside into salt lap. Hauled once again to his feet and pushed forward to white sand surface, half hearted protest was issued and belayed.

Forward into the darkened surround of vegitation fallen Aristo was herded until after unknown amount of time occured, movement was ceased. Tall palm was chosen as cross to bear, shackles secured over tight forcing bare flesh to endure semi-abrassive circumfrance. Then, and only then was the hood removed.

Sabastian's expression was neutral but for the deep hatred that swam his eyes. Childermass issued one departing blow to bound man before joining Beggar Prince and the four other's in his company. From hidden heights, avian native jeered shrilly breaking morning still and moments passed without numbering before Sabastian chose to speak. When he did, it was with low and icy tone as if the man chained afore him was the embodiment of every transgression suffered over four and twenty years passing.

"You chose poorly..."