Port Royal, Jamaica

[Ransom]

Christophe had noticed Old Tucker and unknown rider as the carriage had neared the Port's outer edge. Sending vehicle onward around dirt road bend, the Frenchman had drawn Bay to halt. The sound of following hoofbeat neared steadfast as blunderbuss was released from secure hibernation and brought to bear with practiced aim; the elegant cock drawn back.

When he saw the outrider on the big bay turn and a blunderbuss pointed at him, Ioan pulled his own horse to a hault well out of range. The two mounted men stared at one another through a haze of dust and distance, the coach rolling on toward its destination.

Ioan had no desire to be shot, but it did make him wonder just who owned the coach, and what possible connection they could have to Sterling. And, who was the lady within? As far as he could tell the vehicle was heading further into the country, where there were only shanty villages or sugar plantations. Was she the daughter of a wealthy land owner?

His horse pawed impatiently at the ground. Ioan patted its sweated neck, and let it dance a small pirouette on the road to steady itelf. By the time he faced the way the coach had gone, the man on the bay had lowered his weapon, turned his own bay, and was cantering to catch up with the coach.

Ioan watched them go, then turned his own animal's head back toward Port Royal.

[Ransom]

He raised his head just enough for morning sun to stroke scarred features and offered her a knowing wink.  For good measure, limp burden was slammed betwixt supporting shoulder and near structure wall. Seth's departing words played the air with frigid cadance....

"An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth, child.."

The hew and cry was up. Somewhere a bell sounded frantic alarm. I looked at the limp, bloody form as it was carried away by the stranger. I took delight in knowing Killingsworth would find waking more painful than his current state.

However, it would not be long before the Governor's soldiers fought their way through the crowds, intent on finding the man. I did not want them to find me anywhere near this place. In looking quickly about me for an avenue of escape, a tiny spark of fire caught my eye. I knelt and rescued from the lane a jeweled snuff box. "Ah." I smiled, brushed dirt from its fine inlaid serface, and slipped it into my pocket. "How nice of Mr. Killingsworth to leave me a small token of remembrance."

The sound of approaching booted feet warned me to tarry no longer. I darted to the nearest building, opened a rough wooden door, hinges screeching, and stepped into darkness.

A sulferous smell assaulted my nostrils. Shapes, dim and strange, hovered among the rafters. In a shaft of gray light coming from a dust-covered window, a large calico cat glanced up at me with eyes the color of topaz.

From a further room deep within the house, a voice rough as sand on cobbles, called out, "Hoy, is that you, Souris? Get your worthless carcass in here, and don't tell me you've come back empty-handed again."

Before I could answer this interesting greeting, there was a blinding flash, a whoosh, followed by a gust of sulferous smoke which made my eyes water. The cat howled and darted under a nearby table.

After much choking and caughing and a healthy spit, the voice erupted again, "God's Teeth, third time today. I should know better than to trust that bloody book. Souris, you skulking devil, get in here and clean up this mess!"

[Ian Finn]

The heaving of ship made for difficulty in trying to remove the ropes bound at my feet and ankles. Wriggling my hands back and forth, I tried to make no noise as the seaman set to guard us continues to snore inauspiciously against the ships bulkhead. I felt a second set of hands against mine trying the same. "Quit movin' eh..." the voice whispered loudly.

Purposely, I elbowed the voice in the ribs. "Bloody 'ell, you arse.."

With that, the seaman wakes, stands and pokes at us with his half pike. "Quit movin' you two..."

A booming voice from the crow's nest yells above the creaks heard here in the hold, "PORT ROYAL DEAD AHEAD!!!

[Liam Finn]

My ribs were sore in the spot I'd been elbowed, but it didn't hinder my progress of slipping out of my bindings. Even under the eye of the guard I was able to pul my hands free, yet make it look as if I were still bound. I could feel my brother's hands still trying to get free, so again I tried to aid him. I shifted my bulk so as to hide our hands from the guards view and began to help pull the tightnesss from his entwined limbs. "Bugger ye fer jabbin me wi yeur elbow." I whispered to him.

[Rateye]

“If you ‘ave something here for the pain, It’ll do him well.” Questioned Reiley, as he helped Lady Aurore remove the captain’s waistcoat and shirt “Otherwise, he’ll just have to be held down so, I can work with haste! Christ! Smells like e’s been drinking all bleeding night!”

As Reiley threw the articles of clothing to young Mr. Davis, who was beginning to look extremely pale. “Snap to son!” he ordered, as he felt the tension begin to lean towards him. “You’re looking for…. (Pausing to shake sense into the boy) You’re looking for a hole where the bullet may have entered. You’re also looking to ensure there is no fabric missing! Quickly now!”

The guttural and labored breathing, lead Reiley to expect a damaged lung. Therefore as Davis went about his task, Reiley began to roll the captain over onto his left side, to avoid blood flooding into both lungs. However a stifled groan halted his efforts.

“Shoulder…” the captain wheezed, barly able to breath.

To Reiley’s surprise, in addition to the gunshot wound, the captain’s shoulder had also removed from the socket, most likely from his fall from horse.

“We’ll have to return his shoulder to place.” Spoke Reiley out loud, to all that could hear.

Surprised to find a gentleman’s hands now helping raise the captain, Reiley found the young lord Christophe, to whom he had been involved in a stand-off a day prior, had already rolled up his sleeves and was surprisingly offering assistance.

“Hold him!” warned Reiley, as he jerked the captain’s arm and forced it back into the socked. But surprising the Captain barely winced.

“Mr. Reiley, sir?” Spoke Davis as he held out the captain’s jacket. “I thinks there a bit of the coat, been taken inside of 'im with the ball?”

Lowering the captain back onto the table, Reiley snatched the jacket from the young man. After examining the jacket himself, it was obvious there was a small piece of fabric missing. Had it been only a bullet to be extracted, the chances would have been much more favorable. However, having to probe for a small patch of cloth through a man’s insides would make the task far more complicated.

“M-lady?” asked Reiley, as he wiped a line of blood from his chin. “If you can have one of your housemen start boiling water? I will also need a shaving razor and if possible any kind of small scissors or shears you might have around… I will also need thread, a needle and any strips of clean linen you can provide.”

“You will have what you need.” Replied Lady Aurore, as she turned and began instructing her servants.

However, as the captain continued to spit up blood and bile, Reiley continued to hope that his lung had not been damaged.

“I’ll need as much light as possible." Added Reiley. "Any additional candles or lanterns will help!”

Then as the captain lay on his back and slightly propped up against his left side, “.. .You’ll be wanting to be hold him down for this…” Warned Reiley.

As the captain was held down, Reiley washed hands from the bottle of rum which was offered, he removed the blood-soaked cloth and then slowly probed his smallest finger into the bullet wound, searching for the bullet.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore listened carefully to what the Good Doctor requested and saw to all being obtained. The kitchen area lay in shambles, its surfaces taken up with what normally occupied the heavy wooden table at it's center. Several lamps now hung suspended above on hooks usually supporting the cumbersome weight of cooking pots; tallow's glow further chased away shadows into deep corners and recesses.

Her expression was set in steeled poise, though Aurore's eyes spoke high treason to the faux display. Glancing to window's offering of outside view, she watched as Delaney and one of the others hoisted large cauldron to crossing iron hooks; the pyre seduced to life far before its' usual time of duty.

Christophe gave nod of acknowledgement to Reiley, laying firm hold to Sterling in effort to disueade movement. As surgeon applied craft, two other men joined in pinning efforts and Aurore stood clear to await further instructions or needs. a thousand times over, she wished their situation were reversed; that it had been she to have taken ball invasion instead of he. And as Sterling's face contorted to the probings, Aurore felt such overwhelming emotion as to shake her to soul's very core.

With careful effort to stand clear of proceedings, she reached forward to give fleeting caress to lover's sweat drenched brow. A touch as brief and gentle as a butterfly's lite and lift before retreating two paces; her eyes focusing on Medicine Man with silent plea for success and resolve.

[Capt. Sterling]

He ground his teeth together as Reiley dug deeper with finger to wound. The further invasion of his body was almost mind numbing. As the probing diget was removed, the doctor announced with a curse his failure. Sterling could only gasp his relief for a moment as hands, once vices, now gentled their hold, awaitng the doctor's next attempt.

He looked for her, standing at a distance, her brief touch only making him crave for more.

"Again lads," he heard Reiley say. He felt his eyes burn from the sweat that ran into them. As them that held him seized him again, he tried to clench his jaw, as it would not do to cry out in front of her... and yet try as he did....

[Rateye]

Discovering the ball had entered farther than the length of his finger; Reiley employed an improvised probe, fashioned from a knitting needle.

As the good captain began falling in and out of consciousness, it was obvious the pain was unbareable. It was eventually discovered that the bullet had struck one of the captain’s ribs and narrowly missed his lung. Furthermore, having been redirected by the rib, the bullet was now embedded in the muscle near the captain’s underarm. It was obvious to Reiley it would be more practical to cut through the front rather then continually dilate the wound and possibly cause additional irritation and possible damage to the lung. However, the main concern was not only the bullet, but also the cloth that accompanied it.

Again as the captain was held down, Reiley cut through the muscle and tissue of his underarm with the razor. To his disapproval the incision of which he created was much larger than he had been used to. However without proper instruments, he was more intent on saving the life of the good captain rather that the copious scarring which would be sure to follow. Within moments, Reiley had found and removed the large bullet near the captain's rib. Then began to search for the missing patch of cloth.

However after searching the front incision without success, Reiley was reluctantly forced to dilate the entry wound and thereby eventually found the missing patch of cloth. Then after removing said patch of clothe along with two fragments of broken rib, Reiley took to suturing the good captain up.

“Mr. Davis…. If you would be so kind as to hold the lips of my incision together, I will be obliged to close the damage I’ve caused.”

“Aye sir.” Replied Davis, without hesitation.

After the first wound was closed, bandaged and the bleeding subsided, Reiley dressed the entry wound with pieces of lint and torn bandage of which he had soaked in oil, for allowing the fluids to escape. He would eventually have to dilate the wound again to ensure proper drainage, however the worst was hopefully past.

“If his wounds don’t fester and rot…. He should live?” Sighed Reiley, as he wrung his hands in the cloth he had fashioned into an apron. If you don’t mind me saying M-Lady, he’ll also stand a better chance out here with the fresh air, instead of being shoulder-to-shoulder with the sick and dying in some hospital… He’ll likely have a fever to fight off and those ligatures will have to come out in the next two or three days, if not sooner to avoid inflammation… If you feel like praying or something, dis might not be out of place?”

[Aurore Devareaux]

Relief flooded her expression at Reiley's words and she moved forward to grace his cheek with light brush of lips in gratitude. Stepping a pace back, Aurore eyed him mommentarily before speaking softly.

" I wish to offer you lodging here for the duration, if you are willing to accept. My indebtedness towards you can not be portrayed with the idle attempt of words, monsieur."

[Rateye]

“Humbly I accept M-lady." Answered Reiley with a tired smile. “I would ask a favor though… Perhaps you could send word to Mr.Symms of the good Captain’s disposition. I’m sure he would see to it that all the proper notifications were made to those concerned about his welfare.”

“Of coarse.” Answered Aurore. “There must be many who are worried about the good captain…. I will see that is done.”

“I thank you again… M-lady.” Nodded Reiley, as he led Davis out of the room to properly clean themselves. "C-mon lad..."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore watched after Reiley's departure, young Davis in tow then caught the eye of Megan who hovered near kitchen entrance. A thoughtfull smile apeared on Mistress's expression as she waved the girl close and inquired on preperations requested earlier. Megan replied, nervously eyeing Sterling before going outside to relay needs for meal preperations.

Moving to Sterling's side, Aurore looked down upon palid features with concern then informed the men standing near to carefully take him upstairs. Gently lifted with steady support, he was taken up stair incline with Christophe in lead. As first chamber of familiar memory was neared, the Frenchman reached to brass knob, but was stopped in intention by the voicing of one word....

"Non."

The slate tinctured sights narrowed a fraction as he glanced to where she followed. The other men gave no indication to what private musings might take place in mental process, simply stayed their position.

"Monsieur Reiley will be using that room. Take Capitaine Sterling to my own."

Christophe almost gave the impression of possible protest, but moved away from heavy door to continue hallway's legnth. Furthest doorway aquired, she stood to the side and looked after Sterling's careful deposit on deep sink support. The other men left to attend other biddings leaving Christophe behind in doorway's framing.

Aurore kept neutral in her offered expression, "See to Monsieur Reiley and young Davis' comfort, s'il vous plait. Ask the others that I wish for as much quiet as possible. Merci."

Christophe lingered a few momments, then drew the door to closure. Aurore approached lover's form, sitting carefully on bed's edge.

"I am so sorry" she whispered, a stray lock of tow hue was brushed from his damp forehead. Leaning forward, her lips found his own briefly; dark, expressive eyes searched the plains of his face.

[Capt. Sterling]

"I am so sorry" she whispered, a stray lock of tow hue was brushed from his damp forehead. Leaning forward, her lips found his own briefly; dark, expressive eyes searched the plains of his face.

He closed his eyes as her lips brushed his ever so softly. When she pulled all too soon from him, he looked at her again.

"Sorry?" he whispered, once again his voice weariness itself to her ears. "Why? Think you the cause of this? God forbid chere dame," he said. With a groan, he forced himself to be still and take small, controlled breaths.

"How is the boy? If I had but known I would never have taken him up behind me."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Her brow knit with the evidence of his pain and one finger was placed to his lips in act of silencing.

"Jason will be fine, mon sucre' and I wish for you not to worry any further." she answered softly. "Please just rest and mend."

Removing silencer, his near cheek was caressed gently, "I will stay near and will contiue to do so until you have recovered fully."

[Cheeky Actress]

Lilly laid destressed upon her bed weeping an endless stream of tears. She expected the worst. She feared that her sweet captain now was dead and that she would never be able to truly confess her tale of woe to him. She curled herself into a ball, as if a babe would do, trying to seek comfort in her own hug. She quickly thought back to the three times she had denyed him of her hand in marriage. The first betrail of his heart was simple enough. She mocked him lightly at the mear thought of it. The second was a rush of heated passion, something she had never felt before from any man, and yet, fear was the only element that kept her from saying yes. The last was the hardest of them all...the threat of death was upon him, therefore she had to say no to save her lover's life.

Again, she let out a painful wail. Now her cries could be heard by others upon the same floor. Suddenly a knock came upon the door. "Please Mistress...Please stop with the tears and the crying! Yours will surly wake the dead!" She knew the voice. It was Symms. He had come to complain about her relentless cries for her beloved Captain. But suddenly she heard the key in the lock and the door slowly opened. Symms stood at the door with a tray of food. Though the food was a welcome sight, she did not feel like eating. "Come now Miss. I am sure that God is looking over him as we speak. Someone will send word soon enough about how he is doing."

Lilly wiped her tears for a moment and gulp down the wine Symms had handed her. "I'm the fool." She whispered. "I should have told him everything from the beginning....everything. Now, he's dead and I don't know what I shall do." Symms eyebrows nitted with concern. "You should not talk in such a fashion. Pray child. God will keep him close."

She closed her eyes for a moment. "I wish we knew something...anything." She whispered. "God, if he still lives. I promise that I shall tell him everything.....and I will marry him, no matter what."

Symms just looked at the Actress with surprise and rolled his eyes.

[Capt. Sterling]

"Only until then?" he asked sadly.

"Shh," Aurore warned.

"As you ..." she raised her finger once more and he paused. When she lowered it, he could not help but smile and continue. "As you wish, ma chere."

Aurore frowned for a moment but soon smiled in return.

"You see," he whispered when he was rewarded with such a lovely expression. "I came back... to see you." And then.... he sneezed.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore leaned carefully, as not to rouse any further pain, and obtained a daint kerchief from bedside table drawer. Sterling's words echoed in the corridors of her mind and she made effort to keep their effects from showing on the forefront. Laying embroidered cloth near, she searched his expression as if trying to unlock some hidden secret.

"Please try to relax. Megan is preparing some tea that will help you sleep."

Once again she leaned close, whispering confession to his hearing, "I will not lose you to this...I cannot, for I do not think that I could bear the grief."

[Capt. Sterling]

Once again she leaned close, whispering confession to his hearing, "I will not lose you to this...I cannot, for I do not think that I could bear the grief."

He thought he would die as the sneeze rocked his body. It was a moment before he could set himself at ease again. As Aurore laid the mouchoir near at hand, he swore he would keep it as a prize. And then she leaned to him again...her words stirred his heart.

"To hear such a confession I would risk the pistol shot of a thousand assassins," he whispered as she hovered close by. "Promise me you will stay close indeed, safe in this house. I have no enemies here in Jamaica and surely that shot was not meant for the boy... after what has happended to your poor brother, I would be much happier if I were to know you were indeed close by at all times."

[Aurore Devareaux]

"If that is your heart's desire then I shall do as you ask."

Aurore stood and looked down upon him as if uncertain as to leaving his proximity for amount of time. A light rap drew her eyes away from his to the door as a muffled voice called quietly from without. Hinged blockade was brought to revealing Megan and serving tray. Aurore spoke words of kindness to young girl and relieved her of silver burden.

The tray was set near canopy upright and pungent brew poured into delicate cup. Aurore regained seating near his side, setting liquid vessel on table surface to cool.

"This mixture has been passed down generations uncounted..."

His steady gaze stopped her explination's coursing and for a fleet of momment, she thought that nothing in the world did she cherish more than his nearness.

[Capt. Sterling]

"To sleep it will put me then, eh?" Sterling said with a slight sigh. "Well then if ye are to deprive me of the sweetness of looking upon ye, first allow me to speak to Christophe, chere."

He watched her, unable to mask her curiosity right away.

"Please? Ye have my word, I shall be brief."

[Rateye]

As Reiley and the young Mr. Davis, washed the captain's blood from themselves in the kitchen, there wasn't a word spoken betwen them.

It was obvious the boy was shaken at first. But upon recieving he bearings, Reiley couldn't help by admire the lad's tenacity.

"If you think you're going to be sick lad, don't let me stop you." offered Reiley, without looking.

However, young Mr. Davis continued washing and didn't answer. Then after waiting for a few moments, Reiley turned, dried his hand, then extended it for young Mr. Davis to shake.

"You did good Mr. Davis." Announced Reiley. "A damn fine job..."

At first surprised, Davis proudly shook Reiley's Hand. "Thank you sir... And like-wise to you. "

"You know, I might be mistaken." Insisted Reiley, as he shook his finger in the air. "But something tells me there's sure to be something to drink around here..."

"I'm on it, sir.." Announced Davis, as he started scavenging through the cupboards.

Within moments Davis had found a small bottle of something.

"Smells good enough." offered Reiley, as he handed a glass to Davis.

"To the Captain!" toasted Davis, as he raised his glass.

"To Captain Sterling." agreed Reiley.

[Aurore Devareaux]

"To sleep it will put me then, eh?" Sterling said with a slight sigh.  "Well then if ye are to deprive me of the sweetness of looking upon ye, first allow me to speak to Christophe, chere." 

He watched her, unable to mask her curiosity right away.

"Please?  Ye have my word, I shall be brief."

At her summons, Christophe returned to the upper floor. Nothing was presumed afore hand, but then he rarely made idle assumptions. Coming to final bedchamber, he made his presence known then waited admittance.

Aurore stepped into the hallway, pulling heavy oak to then quietly relayed Sterling's desire for audience. The Frenchman kept a vissage of aloof demeanor though his inner thinkings ticked strategicly forward. She parted his company with cautioning glance, continuing to lower floor.

The Frenchman kept place at door's side briefly, then entered chamber encompassement. Standing silently just inside the threshold, his cool gaze fell on Sterling.

[Capt. Sterling]

There was something about the man that now stood before him that seemed to always put Sterling on his guard. Perhaps it was this strange need the captain always felt to convince Christophe that he meant no harm to his young charge. And, although, it made him uneasy, Sterling was also pleased by the man's fierce loyalty.

"Thank you," Sterling began in a whisper. "Forgive me for not being able to speak a bit louder." He slowly took a deeper breath. "I am grateful for your assistance this day. But there is something else I would ask you do for me.

I know not why that ball was spent, nor why it found its way into my form, but I cannot fathom as to who would wish me harm. With what has happened recently regading Mademoiselle's brother's loss, I fear greatly for Aurore's... Mistress Deverux's safety. I know I need not ask you twice to keep her well but speak it once I must. If you would send word to my first officer, I would have him know that I wish him and the rest of my crewe to be at your disposal to protect your people and this family from further harm. My sword is yours."

[Ian Finn]

The seaman moved to the ladder stairs to look at at the sound of the voice. Having been relieved of my constraints, I rise slowly moving around behind the fresh water stores and the half-full barrel of rum. My companion had also arisen and moved away towards several crates of non-descript goods. At a nod he threw a shaded lantern across the deck. Albeit unlit, it shattered across the floor. Turning abruptly back towards the noise, the crewman looked to where we had been once held.

"DAMN YOU TWO!" He mutters loudly. Searching for us he pokes and prods at sevral sacks laying about the dimly lit interior of the ship. As the man walks away from me, I slowly wrap the rope between my hands. Creeping behind him, I jump and catch the man under the chin with the rope as taught as possible. Gasping for air and clutching at the rope, my brother jumps and plunges a dagger several times in the man's chest. As the air slowly escapes from his lips the unlucky seaman collapses in a lump on the floor.

"Where'd ya find that?" I ask staring at the bloodied dagger still dripping upon the floor.

[Tess St. Claire]

After several moments of arguing with the Tavern Owner, the Lady St. Claire’s items were brought to her upstairs retreat. The elderly woman showed her the way to her room. Tess followed the tottering old hag as she climbed the stairs to a large oak door at the end of the hallway. “This be thy room, my Lady.” She said as she unlocked the door and stepped aside for her to enter. She walked into the somewhat adequate room and looked about. “This is it?” She muttered back at the old hag. “Aye, this be your room.” “There must be some mistake. I was told that the rooms here were quite suf…” “Ney Lady, this be the only room we have as of the moment. Come now, it has quite a view of the harbor and you capture the breeze when morning comes!” She walked passed Lady St. Claire and opened the window. “There you be. A cool breeze for thee!” She looked about the room again. “Very well, if I must stay here I shall make sure there is fresh air!” And with that she patted her nose with her handkerchief. “Sup is at seven of the clock. Surly my Lady is tired from her long journey. I be leave thee to yourself, but if ye need anything, just call for me. Lizzie be my name.” And with that the old crone left her.

Tess quickly went to the window. The room was sweltering and the breeze was a much welcome delight. Things were not going as planned. She thought to herself as she took a seat upon the bed. Killingsworth had foiled himself. What surprised her is that complete strangers knew of him. She was told that he would be discrete. “Fool, send a man to do a woman’s job!” She mumbled to herself. “Fool! If he doesn’t find Mistress McKinney before I can catch up with him…I’ll kill him myself!”

[Ransom]

Ioan returned the horse to the Three Crowns. Port Royal was still in chaos over the shooting of Sterling. Soldiers continued to search the streets for the assassin, but apparently none had been found. Coming so close on the killing of the bar maid, gossip was running rampant over just what it all could mean.

After a pint or two at the Three Crowns, he headed for the Rakehell. Going on board, he was surprised to learn Ransom was still in the city. Jimmy cox had relieved Africa's watch over the cannon, and the big black man cast a surly look in Ioan's direction. Ioan tried to ignore him, but had to admit the man made him uneasy. His loyalty to Ransom would be a problem when Ioan dcided to take the ship. There would be others who would rally against him, preferring a woman captain to one they didn't know. They would have to be dealt with as well. It only remained for Ioan to figure out how.

Feeling Africa's eyes boring into his back, Ioan went about his usual ship duties, but knew he was running out of time. He needed the ship and what lay in her hold. The money each would bring would set him up nicely in the colonies. Set him up very nicely indeed. Ransom would either have to forteit her position—or die with the others. It made little difference to him.