Port Royal, Jamaica

['Bastian Devareaux]

Quick glance was cast about and verbose kept to original hushed render,

"Demander pardon....But I must leave here. I cannot explain any more than to say it is of much effort for me to linger within these walls overlong. You will be safe here and I shall send others to double ensure such fact..."

Dauphin backed two paces, dim interior almost enough to hide the pain which begged full reign.

"J'en suis desole', Frere...."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling closed eyes again and settled back once more into curve of chair. "Oui évidemment," he said. "I shall make for the 'Angel alone as soon as the sun goes down. If I make it safely, I shall send word here. Do you wish to see your sister to the ship? or should I send someone to collect her, for it may prove too dangerous for her to travel with me? What things has she at the Bookstore? Mayhaps they can be collected as well for her comfort?"

['Bastian Devareaux]

"Under the circumstances, I would advise you not go it alone. Those that come at mine bidding shall see you safely to the docks. I shall see to her possessions and will come to same said in the late hours."

[Capt. Sterling]

Good eye opened a moment to look upon Devareaux. Then closed, he knew he was only wasting his breath to discuss matters further. "I shall travel alone. See to yer sister's safety."

['Bastian Devareaux]

"Frere....I do not believe you are thinking with clarity. Allow me to ensure your safety for you cannot consider taking such a gambit. It is a foolish notion to even entertain. You are in my realm now, and it would be best if you remember that there are many pitfalls ashore."

[Capt. Sterling]

Eyes opened and narrowed slightly. "I appreciate yer offer, but I have survived this long without ye to help me," he replied. "Yer sister requires more looking after than I do at present. She is with child and one never knows how a woman will fare in such a condition. I am sorry," he sighed. "I am tired of being forcefully molded into something I do not wish to be. And no matter how I explain myself to you, it shall be mistaken and twisted so that I appear as if I was born yesterday. Aye, I am tired and cross, the port is still crawling with soldiers and my wife showed me more consideration when she thought me a ghost!!" He swallowed hard, eyes lowering as he tried to shake off the way he now felt. "I will see to myself. Please see to Aurore's safety and the child's." Eyes closed, further conversation was no longer invited. Instead selfish need to be fawned upon came to foreground. He would leave early, alone, and make one stop before returning to ship.

[The Chapman]

The gig moved smoothly through the water of the port. Thomasse glowered at the man before him: Billy, who was ignoring the elected captain of the Samuel. The damned scoundrels. Damn. He was beginning to sober up, damn it. His mind flittered and fluttered, winged, from one thought to another. They had outvoted him. It had not been his idea. They had forced it on him. He had tried to talk sense, to resign as their captain, they wouldn’t listen, they refused, he had to do it, they’d have killed him…

The merchant ships, the ENGLISH merchant ships… the last one, the bloody richie one, and that G—damn Byrd and his G—damn pistols… that hellish butcher, and they all stood there and let him do it, and pocketed their shares, saying nothing. Byrd. They were all bad, rascals, but Byrd was the worst. He tried to shake his head; it developed to be a poor plan, and he stopped the motion. How was he going to talk his way out of this? Bribery? How much would it cost to pay his way out? This thing his miserable crew of reprobate murthering Levellers had foisted off on him?

Who had ever heard of an elected captain? It ground on him, he hated them all, and he feared them all, as well.

Billy sang softly.

Fun-gah a la feeyah…

Ah shay! Ah shay!

Fun-gah a la feeyah…

Ah shay! Ah shay!

Thomasse muttered, his voice partially returning, “How low is my station, that now I am serenaded by a blackmoor?”

Billy looked up from his rowing, his mood no longer melodic. “Watch yo, Thomasse. Yo no more big man than no body”. Thomasse glared, gave up. “Keep your rowing”, he said. “Let us get this over with”.

Their disagreement over, Billy continued his song, rowing rhythmically and welcoming himself to Port Royal.

Couw-ah, eye la ba…

Ah shay! Ah shay!

Couw-ah, eye la ba…

Ah shay,

Ah shay.

['Bastian Devareaux]

Sabastian stared hard at Brother-In-Law momentarily. Far from impressed by Sterling's rebutal, his reply came in icy tone and was punctuated with mock bow of respect.

"As you wish..."

[Capt. Sterling]

"You about to make a bigger mistake den de one you already have."

Teeth ground together at Devareaux's tone. Line in sand was drawn and Sterling crossed over it. He had been honest in his response and yet that meant little to brother in law. For him to move about in a pack or even worse followed at a distance by others, would only draw further attention to himself. Not all soldiers were easily bought and disloyal. Many, foolish, would die for King and Country without even asking why. All it took was just one...

Hand was held out. "I think it best ye give me those papers afterall," he added quietly.

['Bastian Devareaux]

Beggar Prince's features became stone set, but something primal danced in soul's windows. Reaching within coat's legnth, what was requested was in turn withdrawn. A sound of object slipping object was finalized by smallish thud and dim light gave caress to medallion. With fluid motion, it was captured in swarth tinctured fingers and allowed to spin midair on silver teather, then was gone from sight; pocketed with Thief's grace. Parchment was laid to rest on small table as Dauphin stepped away....

And within simple walls, the sound of silence was deafening.

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling sat upward, taking papers and burying them deep within trouser pocket. He stood then and without a sound other than the steps he took, he left the house. Chestnut was neglected and he made his way on foot back to small home of Nelly Greene. True to her word, she had indeed been waiting for him and he was immediately lead upstairs by Nelly’s young maid. When he entered her place of business, he found her sitting within, intent on attracting anyone who found access.

“I want no games,” Sterling said, making no effort to conceal how he now felt. It was all too obvious that things had not gone as he had planned and Nelly removed herself from perch and poured him a drink.

“Tis a strange thing that,” Nelly said, holding forth wine offering.

“What?” Sterling muttered.

“How those we hope would truly care about us can never take the time to show us and yet those who only pretend at love, make us truly feel needed, loved and special,” Nelly said.

“I said no games!”

[Young Mr. Davis]

"the thought of never..." Without another word, Davis gently traced his hand along the young girl's cheek, then lifting her chin ever so slightly, he softly kissed her.

Sensing a personal moment between the two young people, "God bless em." Thought Abbi, as she quickened her pace in returning to the mill. "... but heaven help us, with the trouble that lies ahead.."

[Young Mr. Davis]

“I am glad that neither of you were injured in the row." Assured Abbi. " Now let us get back and pitch that damn fool’s body into the sea.”

Bess looked horrified. “Do you not fear that those two will not come back for him?” She said holding Abbi’s hand. “Nay child, they saw the deed which was done by young Mr. Davis’ hand. They not be back, not for him.”

She had gone ahead as the two youngsters lollygagged behind. However when Abbigale Crane returned to her small millers cottage, she discover the outlaw presumed dead from Davis' blade had somehow picked himself up and escaped during the chase, a slight trail of blood leading across the road and into the woodline.

"We haven't time to waste." Thought Abbi, as she began collecting the items she would need for the journey. "And for heaven's sake, where are those two at a time like this...?"

[Bess Hagarty]

Bess pulled back from the unexpected kiss. She could feel her face flush with crimson as she bashfully looked down at her apron. “Um…I think we best get back to the Mill.” Her response was one that didn’t surprise young Mr. Davis, but he was hoping for a little more passion. Bess walked aside her new found companion giving way to bashful looks and quick, nervous smiles.

Sensing a personal moment between the two young people, "God bless em." Thought Abbi, as she quickened her pace in returning to the mill. "... but heaven help us, with the trouble that lies ahead.."

“Hurry up the two of you!” Shouted Abbi as she continued to push her way through the over growth. “Keep up, you never know that they will be back.” “I find that hard to believe Abbi, for I am sure I can take the lot of them!” Abbi stopped and turned around to look at young Mr. Davis. “Proud as a peacock, you are! Do not be too sure of yourself, young man. We are not dealing with any ordinary ruffians. These are men who would kill you so much as look at you.”

[Bess Hagarty]

"We haven't time to waste." Thought Abbi, as she began collecting the items she would need for the journey. "And for heaven's sake, where are those two at a time like this...?"

Bess walked with young Mr. Davis to the Mill. The night air was quiet and she could hear the ocean in the distance. But there was something that was pressing on her heart. It was then she decided to speak it.

Bess quickly grabbed on to young Mr. Davis’ arm. “You’ve proved yourself to me and to Abbi. Do not be a fool and risk your life for something you know nothing about.” With a smile young Mr. Davis smoothed Bess’ cheek once more. “No need to fear Bess. I am sure that Abbi will tell us more of her husband’s tale and as for being foolish…never!”

Bess could only give him a concern look. “Do not fret Bess my sweet.” Said Young Mr. Davis and he opened the door to the mill. “I would never do anything that would jeopardize any of us.” And with that he kissed her passionately

[Ransom]

This afternoon the heat and the ever-present crowds annoyed me. The war going on in my mind had a lot to do with my hostility. With unwarranted roughness, I pushed past street venders, drunks, and one young soldier - not a wise move on my part, as he detained me with stupid questions for almost ten minutes. Reining in my frustration, I asured him I had not killed anyone or stolen any slaves. Had that young soldier known my true background, he would have arrested me on the spot.

Slipping into the side street that would take me to the back entrance of the Royal Grace Inn, I avoided further encounters with Port Royal's finest. Sebastian's black horse was not tethered at its former post. My disappointment added to my frustration. Taking the key from my pocket, I entered the Royal Grace, and, avoiding the common room, jogged up the stairs to the second floor. With oiled silence the lock turned, and I was once again within the silk and damask sanctuary.

I poured myself a glass of port, settled into a chair, and prepared to wait.

[Professor Angus Trilby]

The Spaniards had only continued to glare at him, so eventually Trilby became bored with trying to listen to their conversation. Spindlethorpe was too upset over the fact that Spaniards were in his establishmet to be much use as a form of entertainment. All of Trilby's attempts to rattle the man had gone unregistered.

With an unbecoming snort, he rose from the table, finished off the last of his whiskey, and left the Royal Grace. He stopped at a street vendor and bought some sugared fruit, and popped the pieces into his mouth as he walked along. Most of the residents of the town knew him, if not personally, at least on sight, or by his volatile temperament. Some nodded their head in greeting, others scurried past him quick as frightened mice.

At one storefront window his eye was caught by the gleam of a brass spyglass. Intrigued at the thought of being able to spy on the town from the safety of his rooftop, he entered the shop to inquire as to the instrument's price. It was high, but Trilby knew the shopkeeper, and after some judicious haggling, a trade was made. Trilby got his spyglass, and the shopkeeper got a cure for boils, and a remedy for a fluxy stomach.

Happy with his new purchase, Trilby rushed home to test the range on the shiny new spyglass.

[Cheeky Actress]

Several hours past and morning soon turned into mid afternoon. Lilly had refused to take any meals. She complained that she didn’t have the stomach for it. Food was the last thing on her mind.

As Doctor Rieley administrated his care, he had instructed to her that she may feel weak or light-headed for a while. But little did he know that his treatment would spur something more than those symptoms for the next few hours.

octor Rieley looked down at Lilly as she began to mutter excessively about the court, about the theater, about anything and everything under the sun! Hamish looked over at the good doctor and raised his eyebrow with a bit of concern. “Did you mean fer her to rattle on so?”

Doctor Reiley crossed his arms and put his hand to his chin. “I think I may have over done it a bit on the dose.” “Yes, that’s obvious!” Said Hamish pointing to her as she continued to giggled and rant.

“How long will she be like this?” Rieley turned back to Hamish as he tried to put Lilly back into her bed. “I’m not sure, but she doesn’t feel any pain…that is for sure! She should have eaten something for it is going straight to her! ”

Lilly giggled uncontrollably as she continued to tease the little black dog. Mate began yapping and barking with the playfulness of the moment. “Come now, Lilly you’ll wear the poor dog out. You need to quiet yourself a bit or we will hear it from the Inn Keeper for sure!”

[Nelly Greene]

“I want no games,” Sterling said, making no effort to conceal how he now felt.  It was all too obvious that things had not gone as he had planned and Nelly removed herself from perch and poured him a drink.

"What would you like then Captain Sterling?" Nelly asked as she watched him consume his first glass of port.

Glass paused at lips, then lowered.

"How do ye know my name?" he asked, taken aback.

"Sally told me. She is a very knowlegeable young lady and well worth her cost for me to keep her. Don't you agree?" Nelly replied. "And though I well know many a person goes about marked, sometimes even from birth, looks such as yours hardly go unnoticed."

Sterling drained the glass and held it out to her.

"Is that all you care for?" Nelly asked refilling the goblet.

"For now," he said. "The bottle and yer daybed will do. All I wish is to lay down my head and not think for a bit."

"Of course, how could I ever deny you something so simple," she said taking him by the arm and leading him along. "I take it things did not go well for you this day?"

['Bastian Devareaux]

"Camille!!!...."

The calling of name barely proceeded his entrance into small but comfortable kitchen. Three sets of female eyes turned with choreographed synchronicity as he strode into the room. Irish femmes averted their focus and only Sibling dared to capture the fury which flamed in darkened pools.

"Grand-mere Shea, " Sabastian said with smallish bow. " I am in deepest regret to have disturbed your home with inconvenience, but it would seem that now no such burden shall further make its' presence known by own bidding..."

Aurore's expression flickered with bemusement, but tongue kept from wag as Brother continued, "Please accept my humblest of apologies. We shall be leaving now."

"Pardon?" Aurore inquired, her confusion turning to higher degree and met only with look that would accept no counter as response. Deep olive sights begged explanation to sudden change of plans and petit brow knit with concerns that wished voicing as Brother placed kiss upon Irish cheeks then turned away. He paused at kitchen thresh hold, " I shall check on le chavel, be ready in few minutes passing, then we will move on to my rooms in towne..."

Trois de Femme watched after Beggar Prince's departure and Eldest opened side window to outside world in effort to sweep the stifle of anger from the air...

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

The news of Sterling's death had not upset Lady Violet overmuch. Back in England, she'd heard all the rumors concernng Lord Sterling's illigitmate son, but there were dozens of lords with by-blows, both recognized and unrecognized. She did think it odd that Lord Sterling's had ended up in Port Royal, but then, she knew nothing of the man's life previous to what she'd seen the day she arrived, and that small glimpse had not impressed her.

Then there was the vexing question about what to do with her niece. When she had informed Albert of her nieces appearace and actions, he had merely shrugged and advised her to forget the chit. "If the silly creature doesn't want to go back, there is nothing you can do to force her."

Lady Violet wasn't so sure about that. There were several things she could do to force the woman's hand. But, did she want to use them? It irked her that the woman had so bluntly refused the chance to return to England and make a smart match. A spectacular match, to be exact, although if the gentleman in question could see his prospective bride now, he might change his mind.

With a sigh of exasperation, Lady Violet poured herself another whiskey, then took out pen and paper to write Rudd Worthylake, and inform him of his sister's refusal of the offer of marriage. She fervently hoped that by the time Rudd received her letter, his sister would have come to her senses and changed her mind. Then she remembered the cold fire in the woman's eyes, and decided it would be highly unlikely that she would do so. However, Lady Violet loved a good challenge. She would not give up on the child. Not yet. Like the excellent card player she was, Lady Violet knew the game wasn't over until the last hand had been dealt. And Lady Violet abhorred losing.

[Lilith]

Lilith spent most of the night hiding from Pinion and the Red Coast guards. The towns people chatted amongst themselves about the recent patrols, murder and death of nobleman...yet, Lilith did not have time to socialize. She was too busy trying to hide.

She found refuge in a small burned out building not too far from the docks. She could tell that in its day it was a tavern of considerable size and perhaps health. She drug through the charred remains of the bar and kitchen looking for a bottle of something to partake in, but found nothing left. She sat down near the hearth and looked over the room she now called home for the evening.

She never thought she would be hiding. Hiding from Pinion and from the fear of failing again. She pulled from her pocket the false Dutch papers she was to hand over to Pinion the night. “Worthless.” She muttered as she looked at the back of them to make sure that the sealed were still in tact. She also remembered the name that Pinion mentioned, "Sterling". Once again he crossed paths with her. But this time she would be prepared. She looked at the paperwork in her hand, then quickly placed them back into her vest for safe keeping.

She rubbed her eyes and lent back against what remained of the structure and tried to get some sleep. But as the she started to drift off, the last thing that caught her eye was something jetting from the hearth stone itself. She moved closer to inspect the item. It appeared to be a small metal chest which has been placed into the wall of the hearth for safe keeping. Lilith quickly pulled her knife from it’s’ sheath and began to pick it free from its stone crypt.

Once freed, Lilith inspected the chest once more. The initials “E.H.C.” were plainly carved upon the top of the box. “Well, let’s see what riches you hold, shall we?” She said as she tried to pick the lock free.

['Bastian Devareaux]

Only expecting to find Noir, Beggar Prince looked upon Chestnut as an appropriation due. Words of appreciation and farewell were bid with forced warmth as inner demons jockeyed for position fueling the tempest of anger that brewed. Helping Sibling upon pale mount, he regained own loft seating in silence and offered no explination to actions and directions now in forward progress.

Main road was gained and into the depth of Port belly they ventured until drawing up behind desired habitat. Two of brethren loitered in wall shade, casting curious glance to the Distinguished. Dismounting, the Faithful were signaled into close proximity, words were exchanged. Sister was brought careful to ground surface and duo departed with mounts in tow.

The interior corridor offered small reprieve to Soliel's smile, the dim giving some comfort. Taking her hand, Dauphin offered support to navigated stair incline; dark pools still aflame yet a wink of concern fought for over rule with the note of pallid skin tone returning. In further silence, upper corridor was breeched and conquered; wanted portal presenting itself for plunder.

Key was brought to bare and as it was slid home, Sabastian paused. Eyes narrowed and ear was cocked to wooden barrier, Sister directed beyond door's closeness. Irish Dogs were woken from woolen dens, as fortitude was laid open; hungry maws salivating with view presented of chamber interior...

[Bess Hagarty]

Abbi looked about the cottage. “No sign of the two of them anywhere?” She said to herself. “My word, if I were young and fancied another, where would I be off to?” In addition, with that Abbi shut the cottage door behind her.

Bess suddenly realized that young Mr. Davis was a bit more randy than she had come to realize. It was bad enough stealing away from Abbi to the old Mill, but now she found herself lying with him amongst the bales and sacks of finished stock and trying her best to stay a ‘good girl’. “Nathan?” She whispered in between kisses. “Do you not wish to go back to the cottage? I am sure that Abbi will be…” “Shh…” was all he said.

Young Mr. Davis did stop, but only to removed Bess’ cap and let her hair flow freely. “Very pretty.” He whispered softly before he claimed another kiss. It didn’t take long before Bess found herself within his embrace once more.

Abbi slowly opened the door to the Mill walked slowly down the narrow pathway towards the stone. She held lamp high and continued towards the strange sounds coming from the stockpile. As Abbi held up her lamp, she quickly startled the young couple. “Here! We’ll have none of that here!”

Both Bess and young Mr. Davis quickly sat up from the sacks that they laid on. With hair tussled, shirt a skewed, and stays half-undone they quickly gathered themselves together. “I am ashamed at the two of you!” Said Abbi turning her back so the two of them could claim themselves decent. “In the mill…of all things!” Once again Abbi shook her head. “And to think I have a perfectly good room upstairs for such a thing. All you two had to do is ask.”

[CrazyCholeBlack]

With an unbecoming snort, he rose from the table, finished off the last of his whiskey, and left the Royal Grace.

Elder Spaniard grinned, a faint roll of laughter spilling from his lips as the Anglican snorted and stormed out of the tavern. The Spaniard shrugged to his crew mate who grinned wildly in return.

“Tal vez el wiskey era malo?” the younger laughed with a shrug. The quip made the other chortle even louder, a sun tanned hand slapped on the youths shoulder in amusement.

Still chuckling the two turned from the common room, taking the back hallway to the alley behind the building. Their tasks were not yet completed for the day and both knew that their captain would be awaiting their prompt return.