Port Royal, Jamaica

['Bastian Devareaux]

Swarth fist came down with brutal contact to burnished surface as Sterling made quick retreat to hall beyond. Eyes retrained to Lieutenant and feral flicker roared to full pyre. Once again, Sabastian regained his feet and with fluid stride, cut the distance of mere paces to where Sibling remained. A deepened sadness drove back the fire as Aurore was gathered protectively to him and words whispered in sooth of mother's tongue.

[Ransom]

I looked quickly at the man named Marsh. "What ails the man? He looks ready to drop dead."

Then I looked toward Sebastian's sister, and she looked just as ill. The two needed to talk, that was certain. But whether Sterling would return to do so was not so certain.

Sebastian, soothed his sister in words I could not understand. For the first time in a long while, I felt totally out of my element, and helpless. I did not like the feeling.

[Capt. Sterling]

March leaned back to peer into room. As eyes focused upon Devareaux's Lover, he called, "A glass... water, anything...something to drink, if ye please."

[Ransom]

I went to the cabinet, poured a generous glass of brandy, and handed it to the man. At least it gave me somthing to do. "As there have been no introductions, my name is Ransom. If you need more of that," I pointed to the glass, "I'll get it for you."

[Capt. Sterling]

"Andrew March," the first officer replied. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have laughed as well. Taking the glass, he dipped his head in thanks then carefully pressed it into Sterling's keeping.

"Drink this will ye?" March insisted.

"Why? What is the point?" Sterling coughed.

"The point is ye love this woman and therefore it does not matter what any of the rest of us say. All that matters is what passes between ye both. Tis time to forget about everyone else and do what is right by each other," March said. "Ye never treated Tess like some fragile thing that could not fend for herself. Ignore her brother and go talk to her after all ye married her not him! He gave her away at the wedding, he no longer has any true say in the matter. Here now, finish that drink or pass it over to me," March added with a huff.

[Capt. Sterling]

"Tis brandy," Sterling pointed out. "You don't like brandy."

"Neither do ye," March added with a grin. He straightened, passing one hand over his own jaw. "Has it stopped yet?" he asked. Sterling shook his head.

"Tis not as bad though," he answered.

March nodded in understanding. "Clean yerself up. And once ye have worked things out with yer wife, ye will do as the doctor says as well," he added, then reentered the room before disgruntled frown could be cast his way. He looked across at brother and sister.

"The captain wishes to take ye up on speaking with his lady alone," March announced. "Perhaps Mistress Sterling should go ahead of him, he'll be a minute or so more."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore listened to the words directed to the one whom encompassed her in secure warmth. The nausea had stirred to greedy want, inspired by the heavy emotion in room's confine and current condition; neither of which she held sway over. Hesitantly, glance was cast towards Brother's expression and she found what lay there to be unsettling as his center of focus pinned Mari's companion. Another fleet of observation fell to the woman that stood in not so distant proximity and curiosity would have been further piqued but for situation at hand.

Gently, Aurore released herself from protective hold and moved away. Mirror reflection of ying and yang studied each other briefly, then she turned away to recapture occupation of hearthside room.

[Capt. Sterling]

It was not much longer before Sterling vacated hallway and returned within, closing door behind him. Aside from flushed skin, his features were composed save for rapid glance toward first officer of forlorn hope. March gave gentle nod of head indicating where Aurore had gone then turned and focused his attention on Ransom and the brandy decanter still close at hand, after all it was better than nothing.

[Nimrod Pinon]

The time was right…finally.

Only the most subtle of doubts had lead Pinon to believe that John Sterling was still actually amongst the living. His crew had carried out their little charade perfectly... that is until the ship’s very own doctor had so foolishly hailed Sterling in the open, even blocking the captain’s path as he tried to disembark.

Pinon had watched from a distance, all the while wondering what would prompt a man such as Sterling to acknowlege, so carelessly, the man who had just given him away as he left his ship a second time and so soon in one day. Surely the captain must have felt that his hand had been forced. There had been the appearance of urgency and yet Sterling's step had been hesitant at best. Still, it was all to Pinon’s advantage and the game Sterling had been playing was now at an end, his time was up.

Fully confident, Pinon followed almost leisurely, as Sterling, first mate and crew made their way back through the port town. With the sun down it was easy to keep his eye on his prey, although he continued to question as to where they were going and why.

Pinon could not get close enough to hear the conversation that had passed at Le Cour’s Bookstore. Such a task would have been risky at best where that den of thieves was concerned. So he waited until a frustrated captain finally emerged from the back alley, split his meager forces and then hurried off to, … of all places… the local courtesan’s. Pinon, with an exacerbated sigh, folded his arms before his chest and slunk back against the wall of the far building. Sly grin caressed Pinon's thin lips. Surely having Sterling arrested and torn from the arms of his lover would only add to the scandal the trial would already cause. But the timing had been wrong and Sterling had emerged all too quickly heading back into the better section of the port. Once again the sea captain was joined by first officer and additional crew and then gained entrance to the Royal Grace. Sabastian Devareaux’s lair.

Now Pinon sat and finished his tankard of warm beer and watched. Although able seamen had been ordered below to the common room, Sterling and March had remained all too long above. Pinon smiled to himself. Timing was indeed everything. He had waited and watched and his patience had paid off well. Something was afoot where the Devareauxs were concerned and it was causing all the time Pinon needed to summon the guard.

[Andrew March]

As second glass of brandy was dispensed and passed to March, the first officer kept attention fixed on young woman. She seemed as lost in this entire affair as March did and surely she would prove better company than Sabastian Devareaux. But as March was about to engage her in conversation other than simple introductions, once again the storming of the staircase was easily overheard. This time, accompanied with the low shouts of "Mr. MARCH!" it was unmistakable as to where outsider was currently headed.

Under ordinary circumstances, Andrew March would have waited for proper owner of chambers to see to the new arrival, but nothing was ordinary at the moment and March was actually closer to the door. Without so much as a by your leave, the first officer opened entrance, listened to alarm that was given in between heavy panting of younger seaman and then abandoned door for farther room. Devareaux only stood swearing angrily under his breath.

Knock was politely given and second door hurriedly opened. March entered private domain, making straight for his friend, he grabbed Sterling by the back of the collar and made for the outer door. "John, they have found ye. If ye do not be wantin harm to come to the Mistress and yer child, ye'll be movin to the servants' stairs ...NOW!"

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling had entered the far chamber, handkerchief balled up in his fist, that now came to rest, hidden behind him, against the small of his back. The room was dimly lit and as always, it took him a moment to adjust. His gaze though quickly came to the bed that had obviously been used. He then looked to wife, standing about in some unknown's shirt, which, also, obviously, was not her own.

Oh there were hundreds of questions pressing him to be asked, but they suddenly did not seem to be of importance, as each was buried by the one thought, what did it really matter? He was completely numb inside, he could not even sense the least bit of anger when he tried to fathom why she had abandoned the Shea house and disappeared, without word, with his child.

He took a deep breath, exhaled, and for the first time in his life, felt absolutely ...

...nothing.

So he waited for her to speak but the opportunity never came as March suddenly entered the room and grabbed him. Pushing him hastily toward the exit with instructions to flee, Sterling quickly understood what had happened and with all due speed made his way down the back stairs, ending up not outside but in a warming kitchen, overflowing with too many men dressed in red.

[Cheeky Actress]

As the Scottish Captain took another drink from the bar, Mistress Lilly drew her attentions back over to the docks. “Do you think Reiley has forgotten about us?” Hamish shook his head, “No, I think he is waiting to receive audience with the Captain.”

Mistress Lilly pursed her lips in anticipation. “Do you think they will let me sail with them?” Hamish’s eyebrows raised a bit. “I do not see why they shouldn’t…that’s unless there is something in your past that you and the Captain have not settled.”

Mistress Lilly looked over at Hamish. “I have told him everything.” She said with a demanding tone. “Everything, but I love him.”

[Ransom]

As Sterling was literally hauled out of the room by Marsh, I lost all patience with the situation. I turned to Sebastian, who stood seething with fury. "What the hell is he so afraid of? That Marsh fellow didn't give them any time to speak at all."

Having been persued by the law once or twice myself, I knew it had to be something life-threatening for the man to leave just when he might have the chance to salvage the relationship with his wife.

"Sebastian, besides you, who wants that man dead?"

[Dan Reid]

"Lilly, I be doin' me best to see ye on that ship. But, we must be patient. We be waitin' on the good doctor ta call fer us. Then we be seein what ken be done."

At that moment, Thomas, MacCraig's young clansman entered the tavern and walked up to his Laird, tugging his forelock. A quick whisper was delivered to captain's ear. MacCraige looked sharply at his young sailor. "Summon th' lads an meet me there. Be quick about it, Thomas, damn quick about it" the boy turned and ran from the room.

Hamish turned back to Lilly. "There 'as been somethin' come up. I wan' ye ta stay righ' 'ere in this room till I be returnin, or till th' good doctor returns. I be leavin' Mate here wit' ye. He may be small, but 'es a scrappy lil mutt. If'n ye feel threatened in any way, take yerself straight away ta the 'Angel' an' find Doctor Reiley. I mus' go lass, please do me biddin. " He looked at the little, black dog, "Stay wit' her Mate and keep 'er safe." the little dog barked his reply as MacCraige stood and hurried from the taven back towards the city.

[Dan Reid]

Hamish joined up with a dozen of his men outside the Royal Grace Inn. "There be a problem boys," he laughed, "how ye be feelin about a brawl?"

Many quiet laughs came from the Scotsmen as they gathered round their captain. "There be a fellow in there what be in a tight spot. We be causin a diversion ta get 'im away from the watch. What say ye, lads?" he asked, knowing the answer he wanted was already given.

"MacGregor, take six o' the boys around ta the back and we'll meet ye in the middle." Hamish popped his knuckles as he grinned. "Now lads, we be not wantin' ta hurt them English popinjays too much. So, no blades, unless ye be needin ta save yer skin. Fist-i-cuffs and pins only. When we be done, the rum be on me."

MacGregor chose his men and quickly made his way to the kitchen entrance where signal was given.

Hamish looked at his lads and smiled a knowing smile. This would turn out to be quite the brawl. "Alright boys, let's have at em!" with a loud yell the seven Scotsmen dove thru the door of the Royal Grace and launched a spirited attack upon the redcoats inside. Fists and feet flew from every direction as the guard was suprised by the fury of the rowdy Scots sailors.

MacGregor, hearing the yell from his comrades launched his own attack thru the kitchen door. He was suprised to find the kitchen filled with red coats, but the suprise was quickly turned to joy as he noticed the look on the young officers face as he and his six men burst in upon them. The Scotsmen layed into the guards, fists flying, and pushed their way towards the door to the common room.

[Thomas Neede]

The morning arrived with a fleck of light passing through the tiny window in the Quartermaster's cabin Thomas Neede shared. He had made plans to meet the Governor's agent by mid-day, and hoped that the Captain's longboat would be sufficient for his trip ashore. Thomas had just finished dressing when there was a knock at the door. One of the crew had come to collect his chest and other goods that had been stowed aboard. Thomas placed his glasses on his nose and drug one of the chests to the door, while another man grabbed the second himself. The sun shone so fierce over the harbor so soon that Thomas needed to shade his eyes. He looked to the stern and saw the Captain standing on the Quarterdeck.

"Mornin' Mister Neede, ready to go ashore?"

"Aye Captain," said Thomas. "Ready indeed."

The longboat had been tied to the chains overnight. He looked overboard and saw his belongings and a few men in the boat. The Captain made his way down the short staircase and shook hands with Thomas. A few words of thanks were spoken and Thomas offered payment for his passage. The Captain pocketed the coins and smiled.

Thomas made his way slowly over the railing and down the rope ladder. Within minutes the stout boat was being rowed to the wharf at Port Royal.

['Bastian Devareaux]

As Sterling was literally hauled out of the room by Marsh, I lost all patience with the situation. I turned to Sebastian, who stood seething with fury. "What the hell is he so afraid of? That Marsh fellow didn't give them any time to speak at all."

Having been persued by the law once or twice myself, I knew it had to be something life-threatening for the man to leave just when he might have the chance to salvage the relationship with his wife.

"Sebastian, besides you, who wants that man dead?"

The flurry of sudden eruption and that which followed in its' wake did well to stoke pyre already just under containment. Narrowed eyes tracked departure to finalization and the main door that hung agape from the process of such. Lover's queries gave weak competition to the thrum that sounded in his ears as features grew stoic but for what ricocheted in soul's windows.

Chamber was crossed rapidly, portal closed and secured with the punctuation of locks shot home.

"Sebastian, besides you, who wants that man dead?"

He looked over shoulder to her, one hand placed firmly on heavy wooden surface and cold calm replaced anger's flame by smooth change of guard. In peripheral, break of worn white shroud verified that Sibling lingered in hearthside door. Mental cogs and gears turned with oil efficiency generating answer.

"I can think of many that may desire such outcome, but which of those that dares the gambit of current is not a thing of clarity...."

Moving with urgency to armoire, chest was removed from lower section and loyal Curs extracted. As each was laid out on flooring plains, pause was given and lupine features turned to those of which he coveted.

"We must leave and do so without delay..."

Arm was raised, one finger extended accusingly to Four Poster's portal, "That is the way..."

[Capt. Sterling]

March suddenly entered the room and grabbed him. Pushing him hastily toward the exit with instructions to flee, Sterling quickly understood what had happened and with all due speed made his way down the back stairs, ending up not outside but in a warming kitchen, overflowing with too many men dressed in red.

“’Ere now, what does a man ‘ave to do to get 'is supper in this place?!” Sterling shouted at the wench that entered the warming kitchen at almost the same time but from the common room. He had skidded to a halt as a half dozen pair of eyes had focused on his abrupt entrance.

“Just be patient!” the girl bellowed back at him, then did a double take in his direction. “And who the bloody hell might you be? Coming in my kitchen and making high and mighty demands?”

Sterling took one step backwards in retreat, finally locating the outer door. “Um, a disgruntled patron who ordered his meal an hour ago?” he muttered.

"A disgruntled what?" the woman asked.

Sterling shook his head. "The partridge...the partridge, where is it?"

"Partridge?! We don't bloody well have partridge in Jamaica!" the girl blasted.

“Damnation,” Sterling grumbled as red coats suddenly began to take more interest. Another step was taken. Then he halted as a corporal entered the kitchen. The man’s eyes darted about the room, then settled on the new addition. In an instant this pair of eyes widened and as hand came up to point at Sterling, the man shouted, “Tis him! He’s the one we’ve been looking for!”

"Alright boys, let's have at em!" came a loud yell from the common room as seven Scotsmen dove thru the front door of the Royal Grace and launched a spirited attack.

Sterling took advantage of the surprise turn of events and bolted for the rear door, upsetting a work table behind him in the hopes of causing a delay, and was nearly bowled over onto the floor as the back door burst open. If it had not been for knowing Andrew March, Sterling may never have recognized the Scottish battle cry as a horde of angry hornets swarmed into the already confined kitchen from both entrances.

“Captain Sterling, Hamish MaCraige at yer service. Best head out the back,” the other captain suggested above the din.

“Much obliged,” Sterling said as path was cleared amongst the warring parties and he set a course for what he hoped would be safety.

[Nimrod Pinon]

Pinon smiled to himself.  Timing was indeed everything.  He had waited and watched and his patience had paid off well. Something was afoot where the Devareauxs were concerned and it was causing all the time Pinon needed to summon the guard.

Pinon had remained outside with the young officer of the guard. The redcoats had been punctual, Pinon had to admit, but now he stood, foot tapping impatiently waiting for them to act. All they had to do was search the upper level and find one man, Pinon fumed inwardly. What on earth was taking them so…. He moved aside as a group of rowdy Scottish sailors approached the Royal Grace and forced their way in. Ice blue eyes rolled angrily with the further interuptions and then… the Royal Grace erupted!

“My word!” the young officer exclaimed. His hand lowered to the hilt of his small sword, but Pinon, restrained him and kept him from entering the inn and the brawl that had rapidly commenced with the arrival of the Scots. “But my men…”

“Are supposed to be here following my orders,” Pinon quickly reminded the young man. “My employer and your better, will not be pleased they were so easily … distracted.” Two men suddenly fell through the front door and landed with a thud by Pinon’s feet. The tall man backed away, as the two combatants continued, rolling about the cobblestones. Pinon glared at the officer. “One man! Just ONE MAN!” Pinon shouted in disgust. Startled, the young officer quickly drew his sword and passed it through the body of the man tussling with one of his own. Withdrawing his blade he ordered the soldier to his feet. “Is there another way in?” he asked.

All three ducked as a chair came crashing outward through the front window. Pinon slapped his hand to his forehead, he should have NEVER counted on the help of these bloody bunglers. He turned to storm away and as he did, saw a figure make a dash from the rear of the Royal Grace. He watched as the man forced himself to a walk, head lowered, obviously trying to make his escape. Pinon pivoted back toward the officer. “I believe that is the man we are after. IF you hurry, you just may be able to salvage the mess your men have made of this night!”

[Capt. Sterling]

The darkness was not enough outside the Royal Grace and the noise caused by the Scots had quicly turned all passing eyes on the building. As Sterling shot out into the night air, he knew he could not continue running and not be noticed. He forced himself to a walk, lowered his head, hunched his shoulders and, hunkering downward, tried to stroll as casually as possible. He nearly leapt out of his skin as a sergeant's whistle shrilled.

A new problem now presented itself, Sterling did not know which way to turn. The Archangel was out of the question and the last thing he wished to do was bring redcoats raining down about his pregnant wife by hoping she could spirit him away. And by his brother-in-law's behaviour, Sterling was all too convinced Sabastian would only be too happy to turn him over to the guard himself. All because he had not done as Devareaux had insisted. Damnation, all had gone well until Sabastian had moved Aurore without word. Thoughts turning rapidly, he concluded he had only one choice and hoped Nelly Greene would still be waiting.

"You there! John Sterling!"

Sterling bit down on lower lip, forcing himself to continue on, hoping he had done nothing to look as if he had broken stride. Pace was made steady, head still lowered, he could not allow himself to look at who was now running toward him. Not until another man's hand seized his shoulder and wheeled him about, did he stop, turning the left side of his face away.

"Sorry sir," Sterling grunted, keeping his voice low and avoiding eye contact.

"Why did you not stop when I addressed you?" the young officer asked as he came through the wave of red coated soldiers before him. Sterling shifted, turning further away from proper view.

"Me, sir? Did not know ye were talkin to me," he answered.

"Tell me your name and be quick about...."

"Oh enough of this nonsense!" Pinon thundered as he came up behind Sterling, grabbed a fistful of the captain's own hair and jerked his head about. "This is the man! What the bloody hell are you waiting for? Arrest him!"

The officer's eyes narrowed at Pinon's humiliating treatment. He grabbed Sterling by the chin and turned his face to survey the wound to the left side.

"Are you John Sterling, Captain of the Archangel?"

"And if I were?" Sterling countered.

"Damn it all! He is and if you do not carry out your duty, I swear, he will not be the only one on trial!" Pinon warned.

Sterling's jaw was quickly released as the officer stepped aside. Musket butt rapidly thrust forward and collided with Sterling's middle. He crumbled to one knee with a groan. Again his head was jerked up by his hair.

"John Sterling, I arrest you, in the name of his majesty the King for the crimes of pyracy and murder," the officer announced.

"Tis about bloody time!" Pinon muttered.

"Pyracy?" Sterling asked, astonished. "This is a mistake!" Several soldiers stepped forward and grabbed him by the arms. Another, laden with irons approached. "I am telling you this is a mistake!"

"And is the murder of the overseer of the Trade Winds plantation also a mistake?" Pinon asked.

It was then Sterling faltered, as if the wind had been knocked out of him a second time by musket strike. The final accusation had frozen him, allowing irons to be locked in place and pockets searched for any form of weapon. Pinon only smiled briefly before features set angrily once again.

"Get him out of here!" Pinon ordered the British officer. "And see that the rest of my instructions are followed out properly. Any further problems and I guarantee there shall be hell to pay!"

['Bastian Devareaux]

Seth Childermass blended to the break of alley and main way, wraith tinctured features concealed by chapeau's expanse of brim. From penumbra's casting, he watched the man in officer's company with an interest that most would, or could not fathom. As Other's focus changed, so did Childermass' and the bluster of Scotchman and Redcoat alike were but static to main interests.

The form that made controlled departure from melee' drew minute incline of chin and tilt of head; stirring deep within the recognition of gait and effort of smooth segue. A ruse that came close to accomplishment, only to fail without consideration or manner of genteel renderings. Brutal action of musket kick made claim and finalized the Square's capture; the rattle of steel capture laying cease to bird's flight.

Briefly, Wraith glimpsed upper floors of Dauphin's possession, knowing instinctually that warren had been abandoned in favor of burrow's subterranean pathways. Nothing would be found Above...nothing known off the Below.

Becoming one of the many which swirled Port byways, he faded from view. Destination plotted, foremost conclusion achieved and emergence wagered on to win.

[Andrew March]

After sending Sterling down the back way, March and mariner hurried down the front. Pace was slowed as common room was entered and eyes signaled to others that it was time to depart. First officer lead small group outward through front door, and went unnoticed because prime consideration was not included in the party. Crew moved onward toward docks, pausing only long enough to look back as brawl engulfed the Royal Grace. March waited a moment longer then ordered the group onward again.

“But Sir, beggin yer pardon,” Dyke began. “What about the Captain? What if he does not make it out?”

March continued forward progress. “Our orders are to set sail. With or without the Captain.”

“But sir!”

“We must see to the ‘Angel, Mr. Dyke. The Captain would not have it any other way. Make a way to get back for him we shall. Ye’ll see, but without the Archangel we are all sunk.”

[Cheeky Actress]

Being left to her own affairs, Mistress Lilly kept an eye on Mate and on the docks outside. Mistress Lilly had an uneasy feeling come over her the moment Hamish’s first mate showed up. She knew that something was amiss. Nervous anticipation grew worse when she heard a pistol shot and the sounds of a ruckus in the street.

Lilly quickly let her safe haven and with the little black dog in tow, ventured out into the street. It was obviously apparent that there was some sort of a commotion at the Royal Grace. Mate suddenly barked and howled at Lilly moved closer for a look.

“Hush you!” She shouted at the little dog as she continued further to take a closer look. There in the dim light Lilly witnessed the red coats pull at man from the inn and take him away.

[Ransom]

Mr. Spindlethorpe had been in transports of agitation ever since the group of sailors had entered the Royal Grace. They had brought nothing but chaos with them. His kitchen was the scene of a donnybrook. Maids ran screaming. His cook had fled, probably never to return. Mad Scots yelled curses and and redcoats either stood and fought or ran for their lives.

In either case, Mr. Spindlethorpe could stand it no longer. Wringing his hands, and tisking as he ran, he hastened to the front porch, and at the top of his lungs called for the watch. Even at the late hour, passersby in the street haulted in amazement, for none had ever heard Mr. Spindlethorpe raise his voice since arriving at Port Royal. Surely, they all surmised, something catastrophic had occured.

To Mr. Spindlethorpe, it was tantamount to the end of the world as he knew it.

[Lilith]

Lilith had stumbled out from a tavern as she successfully finished drinking her dinner. The noise that now floated from the other end of the street caught her attention. With her curiosity peaked, she floated through the crowded street until she was smack dab in front of the Royal Grace.

The scene was one of chaos and uproar. Now the crowd had gathered as a fight ensued. People where dashing back and forth, the cry for the watch had been given up. Yet, through all this mass hysteria, Lilith’s eyes happened to glimpse a familiar form.

She slowly pulled herself back into the shadows and away from those in authority. She now watched as the story unfolded around her.