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Posted

Christophe held position, the cold focus of his glare unwavering as opposing firepower was disengaged and dropped. Aurore stepped away from Reiley casting fleet glance in his directon after gaining the door's company. It was only then that Christophe relaxed his hold and threat upon Lily, retreating two paces then joined russet crowned waif.

The door was opened, showing a collection of men gathered in hallway beyond. One of the faithful near at hand made movement towards chamber opening, but was paused by Aurore's upraised hand. A hint of confussion fleeted his face, but he stayed intent as was wished. No word was uttered as Christophe and Aurore joined the menagerie, the human waters parted to allow their traveres to corridor end. Back entrance was cleared once again to the scene on green beyond.

Though a multitude of comments whirled Christophe's mind, he refused their voicing. He desired so much to draw her near, to give form to the worry suffered and inner fears that had whispered to his conscience while ordeal had run its course...to his relief that she was safe. Instead he belayed such, contenting himself that it had drawn to end.

Twined sights of slate hue regarded her nearness, the contrast of russet tress water fall caressing azure flow of silks. And as Aurore began moving across green surface, Christophe's breath was paused its coursings by rhapsody in blue.

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

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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Posted

Sterling watched as the cottage doors swung wide once more and Aurore exited, this time free of the good doctor’s necessary but treacherous embrace. For a moment he felt a twinge of panic, but Lilly and Rieley, escorted by the compound's guards soon followed behind. Strangely his gaze fell upon the brute, Christophe. It was all too clearly etched in his features his concern for his mistress. All too clearly indeed.

Sterling looked to the stunning creature in blue and then the equally stunning woman following, then back to Christophe and he felt sorry for him as well as suddenly for himself. They were all too much alike. What was it with men like him, falling at the ground of the feet of such ladies, women who were always adored and free to fix their sights on which ever male ventured their way, while the men forced themselves to be content to accept whatever scraps of affection were carelessly tossed from dainty fingers? For a moment he felt himself bristle at his lack of self control. He turned to Sabastian.

“I owe you an apology Monsieur. I am certain that these two are only here because of me. I fear I have brought too much unrest to your household and, although I am truly grateful for you and yours for saving my life, I think it best I take my leave and see those two safely back to town.” As was proper, he added, “Please tell Mistress Deverux, on my behalf, that I am, forever, grateful to her for her time and care,” the words stuck all too hard in his throat, so that he could barely whisper them.

Sterling uncovered and bowed to Sabastian, "My condolences as well for yer loss," then turned and made his way back to Reiley.

“I am glad to see thee safe and thee as well Mistress McKinney,” he said trying to smile and yet all too embarrassed by the grief given to his host. “Doctor if thee would be so kind as to help me with the horses. It is time we headed back to town and the rest of the crew. Word was sent as to my finding and assistance, but tis obvious thee did not get news of such. My apologies for causing so much concern. “

Without allowing the time for words to pass, Sterling turned away to find the tack for his rented mount. He would ride back, following the carriage. He wished for quiet now. He cast a glance at Aurore, Christophe hovering closer than her shadow… my God, how women played men for the fools they were. He would sail now as soon as the ‘Angel was finished with her refit, whether or not Morgan was ready as well. Damn the letters he needed, he would now take his chances….


"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/

Posted

Aurore had not expected what transpired with freedom's grant. Perhaps it was her age and inexperience, but there seemed to be a strange difference in regard to Sterling. She had expected concern and was not even granted acknowledgment by the man she had lain with not but a smattering of hours ago. Confusion over powered concise thinking and she stopped mid way the green's roll to watch Sterling's indifference.

An unwelcome thought reared forward to already addled mental process, a ghostly echo of wordings purveyed by Sabastian in upstairs room, 'trinket to be cast aside...' The sensation of fire lit her sinuses for the second time that day and unlike earlier, Aurore made no effort to restrain liquid diamonds to save face. Instinct took over and flight won over fight as she retreated a number of steps, unable to draw her center from where Sterling hung tack over paddock post.

"I am a fool...," she whispered to the air and turned quickly to gain the shelter of stone walls through gape of double doors.

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

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.

Posted
Aurore had not expected what transpired with freedom's grant. Perhaps it was her age and inexperience, but there seemed to be a strange difference in regard to Sterling. She had expected concern and was not even granted acknowledgment by the man she had lain with not but a smattering of hours ago. Confusion over powered concise thinking and she stopped mid way the green's roll to watch Sterling's indifference.

An unwelcome thought reared forward to already addled mental process, a ghostly echo of wordings purveyed by Sabastian in upstairs room, 'trinket to be cast aside...' The sensation of fire lit her sinuses for the second time that day and unlike earlier, Aurore made no effort to restrain liquid diamonds to save face. Instinct took over and flight won over fight as she retreated a number of steps, unable to draw her center from where Sterling hung tack over paddock post.

"I am a fool...," she whispered to the air and turned quickly to gain the shelter of stone walls through gape of double doors.

Sterling had not been checked in any way. Sabastain had, with nothing more than a nod of the head, dismissed him and had returned to setting home to peace. The captain wondered if he had been forgiven as well, as he collected saddle and assorted tack and carried it over to the paddock. He watched as Reiley moved about the ring, trying to collect the carriage horses as Lilly paced anxiously along the fence line, knowing all too well to keep her distance from Sterling. He was upset and she knew from past experiences to wait until he came to her to speak. She had meant well and her one consolation was that she knew he would see it that way.

Sterling placed saddle upon the fence rail and removed his coat in order to attend to the Chestnut, who seemed unwilling to leave his comfortable place. As he moved to place the garment on the railing next to the tack, he saw Aurore turn and run back to the cottage. He as well as Christophe and Sabastian wheeled about to watch her retreat. He looked to brother and then Shadow and before Christophe took his first step, it was Sterling commanding the dark man to belay his actions. Sterling looked to Lilly then, his mind and feelings so mixed that he could no longer know where to turn. His's first steps toward where Aurore had just disappeared, were slow and precise, but as his heart raced within him, his pace quickened until he was running toward closed door.


"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/

Posted

Aurore made quick work navigating the lower hall, rounding the banister the stairway was cleared to steps at a time in quick succession. She shot fleet of glance towards too familiar left hand chamber, faultering sure footing. Suffocation sensation rolled over her and the instinct for flight shook small frame, as she continued to passageway's end past siblings' accommodations to longed for safe haven. Aurore's breath came in ragged gasps as she leaned against burnished portal panel. It was then the sound of rear entrance disturbance echoed upwards to where she stood.

Aurore froze stock still, one hand on ornate knob as mind raced. Carefully the door was opened, slowly to the betraying squeal of protesting hinge...

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

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.

Posted

Sterling did not know well the lay out of the cottage. Twas small enough and yet not so little as to provide him with simpler movement. He halted, catching himself as he entered, listening for her.

"Aurore!" he called out but she did not answer him. He made his way down the hall and found the familiar staircase. There were other rooms about, a startled Megan coming from dining area. It was the door above, opening with protest that made him bolt up the steps.

"Aurore!" He called as he began down the unknown hall just in time to see one door close. He quickened his pace once more and found the door locked. With one hand he shook the latch, the other he pounded upon the heavy wooden surface. "Open the damn door... " he shouted then caught himself. "Please Lady do not shut me out!"


"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/

Posted

She backed away from secured entrance, bumping into a small table causing objects percariously perched to shift and hit the flooring below. She paced, eyes darting to the door and away with his callings. Inwardly Aurore fought with herself, finally moving to the door and unlatching it.

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

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.

Posted

He listened for any form of response from within. As sounds of objects breaking greeted him, his assault upon the door became frantic.

As the barrier was finally removed and door opened, it was all he could do to control himself, he moved inside toward her, taking her face into his hands.

"What is it? Did anyone harm ye?" he whispered, his gaze moving over her face, taking her in, and finally settling upon her eyes.


"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/

Posted

Shafts of moonlight streamed through the clouds. The silence was disturbed by the sound of running. A boy, panting for his life was being chased. He zipped into the streets, dodging their patrons. His ragged breaths came short. “They’re getting closer.” He thought. The shouts men behind him, cursing him. He clutched a pouch, trying to keep it from clinking as he ran. He rounded the corner, looking behind him, SMACK!!!

Cling, cling, cling, the leather pouch smashed to the ground.

The boy looked up, only to be grabbed the collar. The shouting had stopped. He had hit whom ever it was so hard; his head was in a daze. He was caught. No where to turn, he was at the mercy of his captors. The man started to box his ears so hard they started to bleed. With on swift stroke across the face the boy passed out.

“Jack, Jack?”

I shook myself out of my trance. “Yes”

“Would ye be want’n a bottle?”

“Nay” I answered aback. “Not tonight”

The deck was still wet with blood from the previous skirmish. Thankfully most of the bodies had been thrown overboard and all the tortures were over. We’ve seemed to have brought on a new cooper. Maybe we can have vittles last longer than a week.

The take was good. Our capt’n was in top form tonight. It being a night with no moon, bringing the ship almost on top of our prize. With a suprising broadside that shook the heavens, the ship could do nothing but surrender.

Everyone was celebrating, reveling in the spoils. While it wasn’t the hardest battle we’ve undertaken but, the work after trying to haul everything aboard. We all are walking away with a good sized purse. I was awarded the first pair of pistols as my reward for having the captn’s back.

“Jack?”

It was our boatswain, Ritter. Good man for all rights and reason. His face reminded you of an apple that has sat to long wrinked and aged. Tall, slender man, he could still outrun us all. Scampering up the rigging like a cabin boy. He was the one that dragged me out to here. After that night he took me under his wing. He showed me how to shoot a pistol and wield blade, like the father I never had. I owe a lot to this man.

“Aye!”

“What be your say son?”

“In what matters?” I replied.

“Where we put off?”

“I say Port Royal. I’m in need of a good time.”

“Aye to that, your vote has been counted. That was a fine save this eve, with the captain and all.” said Ritter with a grin, “you made me proud my boy.”

“Thanky.” I came back, with about much enthusiasm as I could muster, wishing not to spoil his accolades. I wish I could partake in their revelry. I just wasn’t feeling it. I needed some good food and some fine ale. We’ve been out to sea for months and I need some much time to myself. Get me off this ship.

“24 to 7, PORT ROYAL it is my fine gents.” Exclaimed Ritter from the main mast.

“Set a course we should be there in no time.”

“AYE!!” resounded the crew.

Finally some good news, maybe I can find some solitude.

Posted
He listened for any form of response from within.  As sounds of objects breaking greeted him, his assault upon the door became frantic. 

As the barrier was finally removed and door  opened, it was all he could do to control himself, he moved inside toward her, taking her face into his hands. 

"What is it? Did anyone harm ye?" he whispered, his gaze moving over her face, taking her in, and finally settling upon her eyes.

Aurore wanted to resist, her brother's haunting words ringing so heavily in her inner ear. But, Sterling's expression worked hard at dismissing such statements. She moved away to gaze out the window, focusing on the Irishman's feeble attempt to lure carriage beasts unwilling to comply.

"There is no need to worry yourself with my wellbeing, monsuier. Yours have come to escort you back and I have no desire to detain you further." Verbose was a halting whisper, "It is only right that you should be amonst those of proper bearing."

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

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.

Posted

He could not help but rub his hands over his forearms, trying hard to remove the chill that had raised goosebumps there.

Had he been right about her just now, his mind puzzled. Was he to be the next, like Christophe, to stand, without hope, in her shadow? To be constantly pushed aside when he no longer mattered, when he was no longer...convenient...

"You cut me Madame," he said, his head suddenly hanging. He could have allowed his pride to over take him, to lay claim to the situation, and bring forth words of anger, spite, revenge,... hurt...

Sterling turned and began his way back to the hall. "I had thought differently... earlier today... I ..." he could only shake his head. "I seem to have been mistaken. I am glad to see that no harm has come of the things that have just past. Thank you for your aide regarding my illness... As you wish, I shall take my leave now. I see I do not belong."


"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/

Posted

The tone of his words struck something in deep recesses of her soul, and when Aurore turned, his vissage was further proof to what was said.

Sterling made half of the hallway's legnth when she called after him softly, "Non...I....That was not my meaning. I thought that you...wished to take your leave post hast. I..."

She hurried from thresh hold to cut the distance between and caught his arm insistantly. " I...am not a trinket." she said shakily.

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

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.

Posted

Sterling looked first to her hand upon his arm then at her, clearly confused by her choice of words.

"Lady?" he whispered. "Trinket? Forgive me I do not understand...how could," he stopped, his mind slowly closing upon her meaning.

"Mayhaps then I be not merely a shadow?" he asked, turning to face her.


"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/

Posted

"Comment? Ombre?" She shook her head slightly in reflection to bemusement. " I do not understand your usage of shadow..."

Aurore searched Sterling's expression in want of clarification to what eluded her thought process.

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

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.

Posted

"Come," he said, holding out his hand to her and then leading her back to the room he had occupied. He closed the door behind her once they had entered, separating them both from the rest of the world.

He offered her a chair by the table, still laden with fruit and drink, then began to pace back and forth.

"I have... " he shook his head again. "Tis early and perchance I have no right to discuss such matters but..." he stopped, looked at her, then began to pace again. "I have seen Christophe.... the way he... he looks at you...there is more there than meets the eye. Do you not see it? See how much he cares for you?

Again, perhaps the timing is not proper, I have been such a person as he, regarding another that I care deeply about... for a moment I thought I could not bare to be placed in such a position yet again...so soon...

The time since you were so kind as to come to my assistance has flown by, tis almost a blur, but I meant what I said earlier to you...and yet I find I know not which tack to take regarding you... this is not a bad thing, mind you," he quickly added. "But I fear I am sailing in uncharted waters..." He halted his step and looked at her, meeting her gaze. "I have matters that I must attend to in Port Royal, and hopefully soon with Morgan, so I must indeed take my leave, but I must know, before I do, that I am wanted back, even if not by the brother at least by the sister."


"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/

Posted

Aurore watched his to and fro, daint ears waiting for any falicy in sincerities. As Sterling finished confessions, she worked to steady the whirl of revealations to dull roar. Unsure of what should be said, she kept her peace for a small space of time allowing for all to settle. Leaving the chair's comfort, she eased closer to him.

"Christophe? I...non. I am unaware of what you speak of...He is like family and I have never entertained otherwise..."

Aurore moved hesitantly forward, " I am sorry that I have caused you such turmoil...It was never my intention." A saddness swam in expressive sights. " I...you will forgive me, these uncharted waters you refer to are even more forgien to me..."

Reaching forward, right palm was placed on his chest, "I wish for your return..."

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

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.

Posted

He smiled.

"Well then," he said, placing his own hand over the tiny one upon his chest. "Tis with sorrow that I must now find myself away to town, but now tis with hope and expectancy abounding regarding my return. My ship will still be in the yards a time longer...but I shall come to call upon ye. I still wish to aide your brother regarding Killingsworth for I will not let that monster touch a hair upon Mistress McKinney's head. I cannot say it would be safe for you to travel to see me, but we shall leave that up to Sabastian's judgement."


"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/

Posted

"Stupid, useless 'ore!" Bellowed Reiley, as he fought to rehitch the horses. But then as he paused to recompose himself, he noticed Mistress Mckinney as she continued to pace about.

"He should be out shortly." offered Reiley, attempting to calm the mistress down. However, his remark was obviously being ignored.

He could tell the mistress was upset and perhaps also scared. He had noticed her continuously turning one of the rings on her left hand shortly after they had escaped Killingsworth. Such was her actions now. But since their lives were no longer in peril, it had to be the fear of a different loss that worried the mistress.

"I'm sorry...." Offered Reiley, as he returned to wage battle with the carriage and horse.

Posted

It took an hour to find a suitable place for the storage of the cannon and powder. Not so much because room was scarce, but because trust was. Even with the stableman's assurances that the gift would be guarded "as if it be me own child" I didn't feel comfortable leaving it. Nor could I ask Ioan to stand guard over it again. He'd made that clear before I'd even asked.

"No Captain. With all due respect, but I'll not play wet-nurse to that hunk of metal another minute," he said with finality.

"Then go fetch Africa. He can do guard duty for a time," I snapped with impatience.

Ioan hesitated, anger flaring in his expression. "I've done my watch on that cannon. Tis only right someone else relieve me. No reason to bite my head off over it."

I held back my first response, which was to take my pistol and point it between his defiant black eyes. The stable owner, sensing the tension in the air, backed away, but hovered near the door to the lane so I couldn't escape without paying him.

I took a step toward Ioan. "Unless you wish to either seek employment on another ship, or get your head blown off, rather than merely bitten, fetch Africa. Now!"

Rather than leave, he stepped closer, his face flushed with fury. "I'll not take that talk from anyone, not even you."

Without taking my eyes from his, I slipped the rapier from my belt and flicked the tip to the pulse-point of his throat. "Do you honestly think I run my ship to please anyone but myself? Do you think, after all this time, I have held it by being sweet and kindly to my crew? You are not the first to underestimate me, Ioan, and you won't be the last, but by God, unless you do as you're ordered, I'll open that vein in your neck so wide you'll be swimming in your own blood right where you stand!"

I watched his fingers twitch next to the knife he carried in his belt, smiled and pricked the skin of his neck. Crimson seeped, beaded, and trailed into his collar. "But give me an excuse to continue, I beg you."

Slowly he brought up a hand, wiped his neck and inspected the blood on his fingers. A cold grin lifted the corners of his mouth."Point taken, My Lady Captain." He gave me a slight bow, then turned and left the stable.

I watched him go. His actions and anger had shown me what was in his mind. If he thought he could take the Rakehell from me, then he was already a dead man.

I flipped the cowering stableman a coin, and put my rapier point at his eye. "If anything happens to either the cannon or the powder, your view of the world will become a bit narrower."

"I promise, Miss, I'll guard it with my very life!"

"Yes, you will." I smiled, returned the rapier to my belt, and left the stable. I needed privacy, and time to think. The only place I was guaranteed such, was in my cabin on the Rakehell.

...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

Posted

After reassuring Sabastian Deverux that his sister was under no duress due to the events of the day, Sterling finished tacking up the lanky Chestnut and then once more attended to the formal goodbyes that were necessary. Aurore watched from upstairs’ window, in the room he had occupied. With a hand loaned to Reiley the carriage was soon readied and the doctor perched upon the driver’s seat. Sterling went to Lilly and offered her his arm.

“You are cross with me?” she whispered as he handed her up into the vehicle.

“Nay, there is no point in being angry. Convinced I am that ye meant well by yer actions,” he said.

“Ride with me then?” she asked moving to the far side.

Sterling shook his head.

“No,” he said with a deep breath laced with concern. “I do not wish to cause you alarm Mistress McKinney, but Reginald Killingsworth is in Port Royal.” For a moment, a sly, somewhat cynical grin crept upon the captain’s features. “Surely he is not here on holiday?” The grin quickly vanished next. “And he has already killed, a lass from the port and mine host’s lover. Seriously Lady, you are the only reason why he would come such a distance. At the moment I do not desire to cause any further scenes under Sabastian Deverux’s nose, but you have run from Lord Robert, have ye not? He has not let you go of his own free will? Ah…a….” he raised his hand to silence her as she came closer to protest. “A simple nod will suffice.”

Lilly frowned but did as he asked and nod in agreement, she did indeed.

“Thought as much,” Sterling commented making a mental note. “I think it best I ride behind. I’ll be able to cast an eye about…” he threw a quick glance at the woman, waiting for a crude jest about his vision but Lilly knew he was in no mood to be tried. “There’s my girl Lill,” he finally said with a grin. “Sit back and stay out of sight.” He moved to the Chestnut and took up his reins, then gently eased himself into the saddle. He rode up close to Reiley.

“I think we have nothing to fear concerning Monsieur Deverux’s people… but there is a killer on the loose in Port Royal…” the captain paused for a moment and chuckled to himself. “One of many tis all too true, but one in particular who is interested in the catch inside the carriage… Stay sharp Dr. until we get the lady under lock, key and guard!”

With a wink of his eye, Rieley slapped the carriage reins and moved the vehicle forward. Sterling looked down at Lilly as she passed and then he allowed the Chestnut to walk on freely behind. Did he dare? He thought as his mount shook his head lazily as he settled in his pace. Yes, he thought, and collecting his reins, he turned the Chestnut quickly about on its haunches and saw her still standing in the window. Mindless of the others watching, Sterling raised his hand to his lips and blew Aurore a kiss, then with a dip of his head he turned once more and followed after the coach.


"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/

Posted

“CRACK!!” Lightining streaked across the sky. I held on to my line as best could.

“Drop canvas” shouted Ritter.

I did as told, and unbound my line holding the mizzen sail.

The rest of the crew did same. The wind was whipping around our ears. The sound of the sea was deafening as if a thousand waves smashing up against a cliff.

“CREAK… SNAP!!”

“Blast it. The gaff rig snapped.” screamed Ritter. “Ye middies get up there and cut it loose.”

As we dropped sail, gaff rigged yards snapped and jammed up the sail. Now the main mast was in danger snapping. You hear the strain on the post as the sail is whipped and pulled by the gale.

I started up the lines. I ran up the port side while my friend Affton ran up the other. We struggled for footing as the storm raged on. The ropes were slick and felt like snakes under our feet. “Almost there”, I thought, “I can see where the sail was snagged.”

“Get that cut down, you NIGMENOGS! Or I’ll have you livers for dinner.” Screamed Ritter.

Just then a swell rolled by the ship. Pitching her almost sideways, I lost my grip, but had my footing. There I hang, dangling from my knees, with the ship so close to the water it seemed as if I could reach out and touch it. As I started to regain my composure from the fall, I saw out of the corner of me eye my friend. He fell right in front of me, crashing into the sea. With a force I have not felt again, the ship pitched upright.

“Affton” I screeched.

“Move on son, move on!” shouted Ritter over the roar, “You have to move on.”

“I must.”

There was a lull, I scampered up the rigging as fast as I could. Cutting through the line that held my side of the sail, “Now to the other side.” but how?

Chancing my luck and using the current lull to try and swing over to the other side.

Hand over hand, across the yard hoping my luck would hold out. Just as I grabbed the netting on the starboard side, a wave crash over the deck. Throwing the ship sideways once again. All I could hear was the main mast creaking and groaning. “Please don’t snap.” Was all my young mind could think. “Please just hold a little longer”

I started to look for where the sail was caught up. “I can’t find it. Where? Where is it?”

Looking, my eyes searching in between the flashes of lightining.

There, the rope was bound in the sheave, just a few feet away. Inching my way over, trying to keep my footing, lest I survive my friend’s fate. There just within grasp, the cordage.

“SNAP!!”

I felt that sickening feeling in my bowels.

The mast had held as long as she could. She gave way. Falling, falling, it felt like forever in those moments. I could hear the crew screaming as they scattered.

“SMACK!!” the foremast caught the main mast and stopping the fall. I had held on for my life. The sail was still tugging at the mast. I had to cut it down before any more damage. “Where was the blasted sheave?”

“Cut it down Jack! Cut it down” screamed Ritter!

There it was, I started cutting. Slicing as fast as my dull knife would.

“SPRINGinging…”

The mast snapped back like rope too taught, trying to throw me forward. Losing my grip, from the force of the spring, I fell to the deck. Smashing down on the deck, I lost all breath, gasping for air, the lage (water) crashing over me, completely soaking me. I struggled to breath. Ritter ran over, slapping me on my back, trying to get me to breath.

“Breath son, short breaths, little ones. Just breathe. Just breathe.” His voice cracking towards the end of his sentences.

“What a horrid night.” Thought I, smoking a gage.

“Why the long face?” inquired Ritter.

“Mmm..” I grunted, exhaling my smoke, ”Oh nothing, just reflecting.”

“Try not to focus too much on the past my chuck. It’ll do you no good.”

“Aye, you’re probably right.” I replied.

“Don’t fret my chuck; we’ll be putting off soon.”

The thought of getting on land made me crack a slight smile. Lifting my spirits somewhat. We are getting close to our destination. Hopefully I can get off this barge.

Posted

Upon arriving back at the Inn, all three of the adventure-seeking crewe found their way upstairs to the Captain’s lodgings. Standing there looking somewhat surprised was Symms. “Where in God’s name have you all been?!” He said shouting back at the lot of them. "I've had the Lieutenant and the others set out to find you.” The Captain raised his hand to halt Symms in mid-sentence. “We are safe and here now…which is all that matters.” Symms eyed the Captain up and down. “Well then, I shall see if I can’t find something for the lot of you to eat.” As he walked past Lilly and noticed her nervously fidgeting. Symms shot a glance to the Captain, but the Captain shook his head and Symms left the room.

Lilly sat on the edge of the bed waiting for someone to speak. In the silence, she spoke first. “Dear One,” She said in a low whisper. “Are you serious about keeping me guarded, like some criminal in the goal?” She watch Reiley’s eyes quickly glance over to the Captain.

photo-2975.jpg?__rand=0.71617700+1286403
Member of "The Forsaken"

Posted

"Aye until I think it safe for thee to be about town on thy own," Sterling answered her, his speech adjusted to hopefully drive home his point. He passed over hat, gloves and weapons to Symms, the old steward already set about his duties as if nothing had gone amiss the past day.

"Any thing in the post from England Symms? Anything from the Empress?" he asked as he briefly glanced over the papers on the small writing table.

"Not a one sir. Would ye be likin a bath sir?" Symms asked as he carefully laid items aside.

Sterling shook his head.

"No thank ye, Mr. Symms. I have already had the pleas.....had one today..."he answered still making himself comfortable, a thoughtful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Something, instead, to drink if ye please. Mistress McKinney? Doctor Reiley would ye care to join me?" He sat and began to unbuckle spurs. "Aye I think it best Mistress, that ye be moved to an end room, say down the end of the hall..only one way in then, unless Killingsworth be a squirrel... but then I can not fathom the man climbing tavern walls...I shall post a guard in the hall to help keep an eye on ye. And Symms can assist to yer needs."

The old man straightened indignantly. "SIR!!"

Sterling fixed a look of mock surprise upon the old man, eyebrows raised, mouth open, eyes blinking a moment. "Beg pardon Mr. Symms, did ye say something?"

With a grumble the steward resumed decanting some port for his master.

Sterling smiled. "I thought not." He tossed silver spurs upon the counterpane, then rose and stretched.

"And what the bloody hell is that still doing here?" he asked, noticing the black coat and all its heavy silver lace and embroidery still laying upon a chest at the foot of the bed.


"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/

Posted

Slowly things around the cottage were regaining normal cadance, those who had crowded yard and bush had dispersed in sepperate directions on errands of whim or duty. Sabastian had watched after the small departing party until rounding of bend robbed view. The day's overatures had left him drained, but he could not help but allow a slight show of smile to lit on drawn expression remembering Sterling's act of gallant. Casting a glance to upper story window, he saw that younger sibling still lingered; leaning outward to catch glimpse what could not be seen. As Aurore began to withdraw from outer exposure, they had met eyes briefly in silent understanding.

Movement to peripheral left caught Sabastian's attention and he pivoted a degree to Delaney's approach.

"Bucephalus is standin' ready an' I used the plain tack as you asked."

"Merci...I will be leaving within the next half hour. I am not aware at this point if Andre' will return this night or not. If so, be so kind as to keep the events of this day under wrap and make sure all are knowledged of my wishes."

"Aye."

" I believe that I will be away overnight and will leave instructions with Christophe in my absence. If I am needed before my departure, I shall be inside."

Sabastian started towards the house, but paused step as Delaney called after, "Miss Shea was a fine gerl an' there not be a bully here 'bouts one, tha' don' feel loss an' anger a' wha' happened..."

Beggar Prince turned slightly to view the Irishman who shifted footing as though uncomfortable in his posturing. Sabastian made as if to speak, but the words died in his throat; leaving him the ability to do nothing more than nod concurement...

...Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no rememberance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like a Turkish mute, shall have a toungueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph... King Henry V- William Shakespeare

'She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.'~Susanna Clarke

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.

Posted
"Aye I think it best Mistress, that ye be moved to an end room, say down the end of the hall..only one way in then, unless Killingsworth be a squirrel... but then I can not fathom the man climbing tavern walls...

Lilly shutters with disgust. “Squirrels! She mutters in a harsh tone. “Horrid little beasts. I hate them; with their little twitchy noses and their big fluffy tails!”

photo-2975.jpg?__rand=0.71617700+1286403
Member of "The Forsaken"

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