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Port Royal, Jamaica


sirhenrymorgan

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"Indeed.....? Paused Reiley, as he began to remember the tasks he was preparing, "Before the assassination attempt of my good captain, I was looking to the procurement of medicines and supplies in prepration for our venture.... Mayhaps m-Lady has the needed resources for aquiring such physic properties?"

Aurore considered his request briefly, then rose from her seating. Gesturing for Reiley to follow, she lead the way down first floor corridor to stop at closed door. Two keys were produced, two locks shot in reverse then the heavy door swung inward.

The chamber was dim with shutters secured against outside intrusion, again she gestured, this time to have Reiley wait as she crossed the room and furnishing obstacle. Heavy shutters were unlocked and pushed away from glazier panels, allowing afternoon lumination into their midst. Moving to the cumbersome expanse of mohogany desk, Aurore indicated for her companion to have a seat in ornate claw foot chair while she remained standing.

Leaning to the desk's burnished surface, she laid a hand upon large ledger dominating center and glanced to him with a hint of intregue playing olive sights.

"Monsieur Reiley, herein we shall discover just what I have readily at my disposal...." She turned back thick cover of leather wrought, "How well do you decipher French....or Rom?"

The expression on the Doctor's face to such inquery caused a gentle roll of good natured laughter to ring from her in response.

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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I walked as if not to be seen. Hiding in shadows were, I could. I left the Fox and Bull and paid my bill there. I just know that capt’n Ransom is looking for me now. I tried to resist the urge to go and celebrate, but it was just too much.

“A pocket full of coins and no where to spend it? What was a pirate to do?” I thought.

I looked around and stepped in to the nearest tavern and ordered a fine rum to start it off with.

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“I am certain they can do me no more harm than my previous captors. And then again, I may be spared such treatment depending on what frame of mind takes my father when he is told of such a judgment.”

Lilly looked over the paperwork penned by the young girl. “I see you have been quite generous, Sir.” She whispered lightly, as to giving thought to the topic at hand. “As for how I plan to raise the boy,…I shall ask you for your advise, Sir. I wish to make sure that he is well educated. But first Hector must stay in hiding until this horrid matter is taken care of. I never planned for this to get so out of hand, Captain….truly.” She looked at Captain Sterling’s face and by his expression could tell that he was concern, but tried not to show it. “As for your Father’s opinions upon this matter, I am sure we will hear enough of it in court gossip.” She then placed down the parchment and looked over at him. The room grew quiet as her breathing became hard and ragged, almost too fearful to ask the pressing question. “Please Sir, if I may sir…what is my fate?”

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I never planned for this to get so out of hand, Captain….truly.”  She looked at Captain Sterling’s face and by his expression could tell that he was concern, but tried not to show it.  “As for your Father’s opinions upon this matter, I am sure we will hear enough of it in court gossip.”  She then placed down the parchment and looked over at him.  The room grew quiet as her breathing became hard and ragged, almost too fearful to ask the pressing question.  “Please Sir, if you may sir…what is my fate?”

Sterling sighed heavily, wishing he were on his feet and able to pace about the room. He shifted slightly, grimacing as his ribs disagreed with his movement.

"Lilly, I do not wish to lay claim to the boy publicly if I can help it...I do not fear any repercussions from the local magistrates at all... but you know, right well, that if I do the boy becomes mine by law. I do not wish to take him from you as long as you are raising him properly and do not neglect him for the stage. If I give him my name openly, my father may see things differently."

He stopped a moment, thinking how to proceed.

"As for your fate? Am I one to control your life, when you have made it so very plain that you do not wish me to?" he asked. But before she could reply, he continued. "As soon as I am able, I shall help you establish yourself in the theater here. Find you a place to live and send for the child to come and join you. I greatly desire to be as much a part of the lad's life as I can, but, you do know, most well, that I sail as soon as the Admiral gives the word, so...if I come back..." he stopped to take another cautious breath. "As to your safety... I needs return to London as soon as I am able. First I must settle with the Empress. She has come to misunderstand our actions since both we left England. I must make amends with her as rapidly as possible. And then I shall see to Lord Robert... If it were not for the attack on my person, I would think Killingsworth was here to fetch you back to Darnly, but with the death of poor Mistress Shea... I no longer know what to reckon regarding him.


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

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Ioan hunched his way through the streets of Port Royal, his fury pushing him on. His back was a fire of pain and blood, but it only fueled his anger more. As far as he was concerned, his former bitch of a captain was a dead woman. It was only a matter of time.

People stared and pointed at him, but he ignored them. Some laughed. He ignored them too. His goal was the Shipp Tavern and a lady named Tess. A lady willing to pay for information. Well, he was more than willing to sell. He knew who had taken Killingsworth. He'd watched from the hold as the man named Jack had thrown an unsuspecting Goose to the floor. He'd even given the intruder a wink of approval.

Jack may have taken Killingsworth to this unknown lady Saint Claire, or he may not have. Ioan would know soon enough. Two things were upermost in his mind. Get some ready shiny, and do for the captain of the Rakehell. He swore on his own bleeding back that he'd have both soon.

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

RAKEHELL-1.jpg

You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

Found in the Ruins — Unique Jewelry

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He stopped a moment, thinking how to proceed.

"As for your fate?  Am I one to control your life, when you have made it so very plain that you do not wish me to?"

The conversation soon sounded like a business transaction than a consoling of hearts. She looked over at him with an inquisitive look. “If you please, Captain. I shall keep the boy well and safe as any mother would do. He is our child and therefore, the most important thing we could have ever done for each other. As for the question of you being in control of my life; By God John! You have been in control of my heart ever since the day we met. It is why I am here fighting for my very life. I regret deeply neglecting you and never truly embracing you for the wonderful man you are. I see now that title and money can go so quickly like some fleeting moment in the sun. Truly, I am a fool to have let you think you meant nothing to me. It is only now, at this very moment as I plead for you and our love that I ask of you this one thing…Please do not cast me away..do not end this between us?!” She looked shaken and confused as she fell to her knees. “What must I do to prove to you that I have changed? If you want my heart …I shall give it to you!” She quickly pulled at her bodice, tearing at her chemise as she tried to bare her heart. The tears now came harder and the room’s tone turned uncomfortable for both men. “I am not the she devil you think me to be!” She quickly drew her skirts up and untied the pouch of gold coins from her waist. “Here …take it all…use it for your ship’s refitting. I have no need of it…what do I care for money when you are not here to share it with me or any of life’s pleasures it may bring?” She tossed the pouch onto the bed and continued to weep. “I am sure there is enough there. If you sail back to England…please take me with you for there is nothing here for me now…”

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If you want my heart …I shall give it to you!” She quickly pulled at her bodice, tearing at her chemise as she tried to bare her heart. The tears now came harder and the room’s tone turned uncomfortable for both men. “I am not the she devil you think me to be!”

Sterling leaned forward, his hand to his brow in support. He could not bare to look at her. He never desired to make her feel so and yet, what had passed between them, still counciled him againt a third attempt to marry her... besides, he believed his heart was telling him to take another path.

"Lilly, please, do not do this," he whispered. "If you like I shall believe you that you never meant to do me wrong, but because your words said differently in the past, I am not willing now to yield further in our relationship. There is another woman that holds fast mine affections and she has, so far, done everything to show me that she does honestly care for me... ME! Not my money, possessions, power or influence. Just me and all my misreable failures. Curse me if you wish, but this is my choice, I plan to see it through!"

He stopped and lay heavily back into the bedding, alarmed that he had raised his voice to her at the last.

"I am sorry," he said, calming himself. "I do not wish to cut you off completely...tis that we no longer can be lovers. I am here for you if you need me... I wish it could be amicable between us."


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

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http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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"I am sorry," he said, calming himself.  "I do not wish to cut you off completely...tis that we no longer can be lovers.  I am here for you if you need me... I wish it could be amicable between us."

His words cut her deeply. She knelt next to the bed and inched her way to Captain Sterling’s side. “How can you release me so easily as not to care? Do you not feel anything for me still?" She looked deeply into his face searching there for some answer. "What power does this witch have over you?” She said whispering low, but the words were still heard by Sebastian. But the Captain only closed his eyes, as if to shut Lilly out.

His response only drew anger from her. With a deep breath, Lilly drew herself forward and raised her chin. Her eyes became defiant as she focused upon the Captain once more. “So, it is to be the Mistress of this household then?” She said as he tone was short and curt. "Where will she fit in with the London Court? Do you think your father will accept her?! I think not!" She said giggling. “Do you think that she will fill your heart with compassion and love? Is that it?” Now Lilly’s voice rose higher and her tone a bit more demanding as she stood by his bed side. “Very well…be the fool, Captain. What you see before you in this relationship is fool’s love, like a young boy’s fancy. It will soon pass…like all your loves.” She quickly shot Sebastian a look. “The only harm I have ever done was to love you…and now I am cast off like the whore you made me.” She curtsied. “I wish my leave, Sir. I bid you farewell.”

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Beggar Prince had maintained a guise of calm and unwavering silence as one exchange handed off to another. There had been momments within the bouts where he had applied control to his opinion, thinking that with the events that had crashed through life existance of late, such control was of greatened effort.

Although much of what had been displayed could be chocked up to the whirl of emotions charging the room, most could be dismissed. Nearly all, for that matter...Until dark haired beauty crossed into unforgivable terrain.

It was not the expected spite and expected insult towards cherished sibling, so much as the blatent observation of worth. Sabastian had lived younger years under the constant taunt of worthlessness, of being less than animal kind, so easily the judgement passed by those who thought themselves lofty and better.

Sabastian Devareaux's eyes narrowed to threatening degree...

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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“How can you release me so easily as not to care? Do you not feel anything for me still?" She looked deeply into his face searching there for some answer. "What power does this witch have your you?” She said whispering low, but the words were still heard by Sebastian. But the Captain only closed his eyes, as if to shut Lilly out.

Her words chilled him. He had expected either a fainting or an outburst, but not to such a dangerous degree.

"Damnation Woman!! Mind yer tongue!" Sterling remarked sharply as he looked back up at the actress. "Ye know better than to say such things about another in this day and age!! Mistress Devareaux has no more power over any one than any other woman who is kind and compassionate!"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

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http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Mistress Devareaux has no more power over any one than any other woman who is kind and compassionate!"

"Any other woman...except me..." With that she left the room and hurried herself down the stairwell. She was not going to let them see her cry. It would be too humiliating. She needed to get back the the Three Crown Inn and drink herself to sleep.

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As the Mistress left chamber with sudden flurry, Sabastian kept his eyes centered of window placement on opposit wall. He spoke in low tone without inflection, "Do you wish her stopped?"

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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Sterling lay there, worn. Already his body ached far more than was necessary. As he gnawed lower lip, Sabastian's words slowly took hold.

"I do not wish to see her hurt any more than I wish to be hurt by her...if it is possible, have someone see her safely back into town, and, until I know Killingsworth is no longer a threat to her, have her watched."

As was his habit, he pressed the heel of his palm hard against his eyes, trying to force back the pain in his head.

"And thank you, Sir, for sitting through all this... I am grateful. And please, do not take to heart Mistress McKinney's words, I know her well enough... she does not mean what she says."


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Sabastian nodded, standing with fluid motion then moving to the windows he had watched so entensly momments before. Her words sat in a roll of turmoil in the pit of his stomache and Sabastian covered such with expression void of emotion.

Scanning the yard below, he noticed Christophe emerging from brush border. At hearing his name the Frenchman stopped, sheilding his eyes against afternoon sun as he looked to summoner. In fast issue of native tongue, wishes were purveyed and Christophe crossed over to paddock.

Carriage horses recently released from harness binding would soon be returned to such.

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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"Thank you," Sterling whispered. "I am indebted to ye." He closed his eyes, pressing against them once more. How much more turmoil would he bring to this household, he wondered.


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Charles Chole picked absently at the patch in his slops. The hot sun sent rivers of sweat through the hair trapped under his rough wool cap. They ran down the back of his neck & soaked into the collar of his dirty gray jacket. On the dock the last barrels & crates from the Anna Rae had been stacked in ordered rows despite the crowds of people. What few sailors that remained on board the empty merchantman milled about aimlessly, cursing being so close to land and yet still on the water. With a sigh Charles rose from his perch on the small travel worn chest. He hauled it up by the stiff leather handles before heading for the short bridge connecting ship to shore.

“Headin’ ashore boy?” the sun blackened gunner asked leaning against the rail.

“Aye” Charles nodded shifting the chests weight between both hands.

“Watch yer purse rite. Plenty out thar happy ta lighten ye of it.” The sailor winked a rough smile cracking around his eyes.

“Aye sir” Charles nodded again. Squinting into the afternoon sun he pushed his way through the crowded dock and beyond that into the tangled streets of Port Royal.

"If part of the goods be plundered by a pirate the proprietor or shipmaster is not entitled to any contribution." An introduction to merchandize, Robert Hamilton, 1777

Slightly Obsessed, an 18th Century reenacting blog

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Sabastian turned from window's view and the weariness that had been kept in check overlong, was now making itself known with full content. Half hearted smile was given to Sterling as Sabastian moved to chamber thresh hold, "De rien, Capitaine. I might suggest that a healthy amount of rest is in order for yourself and me, as well. Is there anything that you wish to be sent up?"

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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"De rien, Capitaine. I might suggest that a healthy amount of rest is in order for yourself and me, as well. Is there anything that you wish to be sent up?"

"A drink, and if she be willing, Mademoiselle Devareaux has promised to read to me," Sterling replied. "Thank you ...again.. Monsieur."


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Sabastian proffered slight bow, " As you wish...I shall see about both requests in turn."

Their sights met briefly, a conveyance of silent understanding, then Dauphin Gitan retreated sibling chamber; closing the door quietly behind.

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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Once again I sat in the shade of Professor Trilby's rooftop courtyard. Below, a street hawker cried out the excellent qualities of iron utensils, accompanied by the banging and rattling of the pots and pans on his cart. A dog barked, then gave a howling cry as someone kicked it. The scent of spices and the reek of the harbor filled the late afternoon air.

Professor Trilby was still brooding over the news that his intended patient had been none other than Killingsworth. He'd railed and cursed me, then opened the bottle of Burgundy I'd brought. Half the bottle was now empty, and the cursing had stopped.

"Sae, what do yea think has happened tae the man? Trilby grumbled. "Nae that I care overmuch."

I moved away from the low wall that prevented accidental tumbling into the street below and returned to my chair. It was a curious affair of curlicues, griffin heads, and velvet. "I don't know, other than this Jack person said a woman named Tess would pay handsomely for his return. Do you know a Tess Saint Claire?"

He made a great show of looking skyward, as if the heavens would unveil an answer. "Nae, I've never heard of the lass. Is it important tae yea?"

I sipped the Burgundy. "The only thing important to me at this moment is getting my ship victualed and out of Port Royal. For that I need money. I have a cannon and powder sitting in a stable collecting dust, that would have gone to Morgan if anyone knew where the devil he was. In point of fact, I need someone who is willing to buy some goods without asking where those goods came from. Or someone willing to trade those goods for food and rum."

His bushy red brows rose. "Ha, sae yea think I ken such?"

I grinned. "Yes, I do."

"And why would I tell the likes of you if I did?" He leaned forward, jabbing a stubby finger at me. "You're nae better than a thieving murderer yourself."

"So is half the population of Port Royal. At least I'm honest about it—when it suits me." I leaned in to face him. "And don't tell me that a former Oxford Don is in Port Royal to teach the heathens Greek or Latin. You've something to hide, just like all the rest of us."

That brought a roar from the irascible Scott. Then a laugh, that ended in a fit of caughing, which caused the turban to tumble from his head. He retrieved it from the tiles, refilled his glass with Burgundy and took a deep swallow. "I like yea, yea she-devil. I dinna ken why, but I do. Sae, it's connections yea be looking for, is it?" He winked. "How do yea feel about dealing with the Rom?"

I sat up straighter in the throne-like chair. "Gypsies?"

"Aye, Gypsies," he said, leaned back and finished off the Burgundy.

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

RAKEHELL-1.jpg

You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

Found in the Ruins — Unique Jewelry

Found in the Ruins — Personal Blog

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Surprised was Reiley, to see the young mistress' playfully banter.

"M-Lady, the only "French" which I am familiar with...." Smiled Reiley, as he suddenly caught himself. "... Unfortunately m-Lady, I am unfamiliar with the language... In truth, I fear I've taken a turn for the worst with my own spoken word. Mayhaps you would be so kind as to decipher the writing?"

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We filled the bag with all we could find easily moved worth, found the liquor cabenet and took all from there. It was stiffeling hot in the mansion so we retreated into the cellar for a time to drink our ill gotten spirits. The cellar housed the winter kitchen and a small pantry where we found some foodstuffs so we made a fine meal out of the food and drink. It was still to hot to want to do much else and we didn't know if there were still soldiers about, so we stayed where we were. "Once darkness comes, then we'll find our way back ta th' Shipp, get our room an see about where ta sell this silver." Ian nodded to me and leaned back in a chair. Soon his head nodded forward and he is snoozing. "Fine idea." I say quietly. I get comfortable but I can not sleep. My mind is going over the events of the day so far. One thing sticks in my mind. . . . the blonde woman. . . we need to find that strumpet and see where she fits in to all this. Then, maybe we can find whomever the captain and Miss McKinney might be.

Titim gan éirí ort.

Go mbeire an diabhal leis thú

So we shall flow a river forth to Thee and teeming with souls shall it ever be.

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My first impulse was to laugh. "What in blazes could Gypsies want with a cannon?"

Professor Trilby frowned. "Don't be sae thick-headed. They probably don't want the heavy beastie, but they will ken someone who does, even if all they want tae do is melt it down and make a life-times worth of sewing needles out of it."

I cocked a brow. "And the gunpowder?"

He tisked in exasperation. "Gunpowder can be used for all sorts of things besides blowing a hole in a ship. Use your noggin."

"Alright, let's assume these Rom can help me. How do I contact them?"

His blue eyes twinkled. "I think I can arrange something." Then the mirth changed to a thoughtful expression, and he let out a sigh. "If we're lucky we can deal with a man named Sabastian Devereaux. If we're nae sae lucky, we'll have tae deal with his older brother, Andre'."

"What's wrong with dealing with Andre'?"

"Dealing with Andre' is like making a pact with the devil."

I gave Trilby a wicked grin. "Well, you recently referred to me as a she-devil. Sounds like Andre' and I will get along just fine."

He gave me a long apraising look. "Sae yea might."

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

RAKEHELL-1.jpg

You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

Found in the Ruins — Unique Jewelry

Found in the Ruins — Personal Blog

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It became evening and Striker was still sitting in his corner at the Shipp Inn . So far nobody had tried to contact him . The only contact he had had today was with barmaid and the Inn keeper , he had instructed the keeper to send anyone to him if they asked after a Captain Striker.

The inn was crowded as always at this hour , there were all kind of people here. From the rowdy sailor to libertine nobleman. one could hear several different tounges being spoken , primary english. The spirit was high and people were drinking , gambling and dancing.

Striker was getting a bit tired of sitting and waiting , but he had made a gentleman's agreement to wait here untll dawn.He was focusing on the entrance door and the general area around him. He had not seen any faces he could reconize . Untill the twins that behaved awkward yesterday came in .As fish out of water , from what Striker could hear they were speaking Gaelic. He followed them with his eyes , the coats they were wearing were military issue.

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always surrounded by shadows , always in the shadow. A spectre he be !

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The barkeep took little notice of another young sailor in the busy room until the sound of copper hit the cracked table top.

“A room sir.” Charles urged raising an eye brow to the pudgy man.

“room only. No board” the man’s voice cracked fingering the chunks of metal.

With a jerk of his head the man lead Charles through the growing drunks & up the back stairwell. The man’s fat thumb pointed up the second flight of stairs as he handed over a rusty key.

Walking sidewise with his trunk up the narrow shaking stairway, Charles came to a small attic room under the inn’s eaves. Dust swirled in what little sun light spilled in from the under roof window. In one corner sat a rough table topped with melted candle & a small pitcher of stale water. The chest landed easily at the foot of a straw stuffed mattress. The door latched behind Charles with a solid click. His attention quickly focused on the chest. Pulling a leather thong from around his neck, the dangling key easily found its way into the chests sturdy lock. With the lid flipped back he eagerly began dumping the meager contents searching for false bottom release. A quick tug and the real treasure was uncovered.

A pile of soft green linen spilled out of the hidden compartment. Charles smiled, running his work worn hands over the delicate material. It had been too long since the fine garment was placed in the chest, although it seemed no worse for wear. The rummaging continued until a small cloth & lump of beige soap was produced. The faded coat & sweat covered hat were quickly discarded into the pile of other simple belongings. Charles stood at the small table, dipping the rag into the pitcher & relishing in feel of the tepid water as it ran over his hot skin. Slowly the coating of work & salt air was stripped from his youthful face. The water ran black before the task was finished. Shuffling through the small pile on the dusty mattress his hands settled on a sliver of shined metal. He bit his lip before raising the reflective disk to his eyes. No longer was it the work worn face of Charles Chole, that stared back but the delicate features of Jane Melchert.

For the first time in the nearly 18 months since she first donned the rough slops of a sailor, Jane breathed a sigh of relief.

"If part of the goods be plundered by a pirate the proprietor or shipmaster is not entitled to any contribution." An introduction to merchandize, Robert Hamilton, 1777

Slightly Obsessed, an 18th Century reenacting blog

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