Port Royal, Jamaica

[Aurore Devareaux]

At first glance, Christophe credited sluggish step to exertion of fight, but as he followed Reiley's train of sight a new revealation came to foreground. Attempting closure of distance, he lay witness to the sudden give of leg support. Carefully lifting fallen comrade, the Frenchman draped unconscious form over the Bay's saddle then mounted the mare.

The carriage lay not too far ahead on the road and he weighed options carefully. It was further to reverse heading back to the cottage then to continue foreward. Unwanted attention would be drawn in the Port....Then, as if the sun had broke dispersing cloud and rain hinderance, a secure and near location came to mind.

Reiley was removed from Bay support and placed into the dry comfort of carriage surround. Quick words of instruction were issued to Mistress McKinney in regard to staunching bloodflow. She nodded as if in numb state as the door was closed securely. Mare was tethered to luggage platform then Christophe walked to the front of vehicle looking upward to young Davis.

"Stay to the right where the road forks, you will see a millhouse just beyond the bridge. It is there you need go..."

[CrazyCholeBlack]

Jane ducked into the bustling tavern just as rain began to soak the city. Brushing invisible drops off her skirt, she slipped up to the polished wooden bar. The graying barkeeps attention was easily caught with a slight nod. He carefully wiped his damp hands on the stained fronts of his breeches before approaching.

‘A bottle of rum if ye please, sir” A slip of silver slid into the barkeeps waiting hand.

“Aye miss” he grinned under his bushy mustache before disappearing to the far end of the bar. Upon his return he carried with him a deep green, dust covered case bottle. There was an audible pop as he pulled the stiff cork from the bottle’s neck, the dark liquor flowing into a small glass set before her.

“Thank you my good man” she smiled as the bottle was set before her, its cork tapped loosely back in place.

As she sipped from her drink, Jane’s eyes nervously searched the growing evening crowd. She doubted any of the crew from the Anna Rae would recognize her now but the fear still hung in her mind. She had yet to decide if she would return to the merchantman or seek a life on land again. The increasingly drunk crowd was amusing enough to keep her mind from dwelling on the looming choice.

There were any variety of doxies leaning over half sober men, plying them with more drink & heavy perfume. She caught eyes with one brunette who scowled back and tugged her target a little tighter. Jane could only laugh at the woman’s possessive gesture as her eyes continued to roam. In a far corner, a man with shifty blue eyes seemed to be waiting for something. Every creek of the tavern door sent him sitting straight up. When the new arrival wasn’t what he desired, he would sink back into his tankard. Occasionally he would glare into the busy room with a furrowed brow. Jane followed his line of sight to a matched pair of military jackets. The two men jostled with each other, arguing in heavily accented tongues and laughing loudly.

“Brothers? I wonder.” she thought as one pushed the other off of his seat to land at the feet of portly woman. Their childish behavior reminded her of something she had seen among the sailors. If they weren’t blood, they certainly shared that elusive bond between men who served together. It was that brotherhood that kept her sailing long after the lover she had followed to sea had succumbed to fever. She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes as she locked gaze with the still seated man. He paused just briefly in his mocking of the other to smile back at her.

“ ‘el o’ der lass. Wots a purdy little thing tha likes o ye doin ‘er?” The booming voice over her shoulder nearly knocked Jane from her own seat. She spun around, realizing only a second later that her hand had instinctively reached for a knife that wasn’t there. Next to her an extremely round, red faced man swayed unsteadily on his legs. He reeked of urine, ale and dead fish.

“N’ wif such a big bot’l o’ rum all te yer self” He grinned at her with a mouthful of brown teeth, continuing his drunken advance. “Be a peach n’ share a little o’ yer bounty wif an ‘ol sea dawg. Aye mights find a bit o’ somfin ta pay ye back wif ay?” he winked a blood shot eye, the words slurring out of him. Before Jane could put together a properly feminine retort a voice to her left responded for her.

[Captain Striker]

The young woman at the bar seemed to be in need of help of getting rid off unwanted attention .

His mother had taught him to always stand up for the weaker , no matter if son of Adam or daughter Eve . It was folly he knew , he was waiting for the message from Mr. March and did not need any ekstra notice at this point. He cursed himself for being this weak. Put the two pistols back in his brace. And started the long walk up to the bar.

"Sorry , but the young Mistress was waiting for me , Sir" Said Striker while positioning himself to the left of the woman.

Striker took some coins out of his purse and put them on the desk while he was sizing the sailor down with his eyes. Striker knew that it would go no further then this.

"A bottle of rom for the man , barkeep"

The scruffy sailor accepted the bottle and walked away swaying unsteadily on his legs.

Striker turned to the young lady and said " It would be a honour if ye would join me at my table ! "

Before she could answer him , Striker made a low bow to her and walked back to his table and his view of the door.

[Rats]

Young Mr. Davis immediately brought the team to life. He had seen the mill while enroute to the cottage and made haste to find it again. From inside the carriage he could hear the "good doctor"?

"I showed ye ya, rotten bastard!" spouted Reiley, as he was jostled about. "Thought you'd get the best of 'ol Rats, didn'tcha !"

[Ian Finn]

Once back outside we sat in the same den of trees as before. Looking quickly thorugh our sack we found that the noise of rummaging through it's contenets would quickly draw attention to our place of hiding. "T' th' inn bruddah?" "Aye." Creeping through shadows and down darkened alleyways we found our way to the inn. Hoisting Liam up onto the overhang, he and I climb into our open window. Liam lights a candle in the room as I dump the contents onto the bed.

[Ransom]

It hadn't taken Ioan long to find out where the Lady Saint Claire was staying. Half the town had seen her running down the street, yelling for the guards. It was only when he was told why she ws yelling that his plans changed. If Killingsworth was dead, then he had no informaion to sell.

He was already near the Shipp Tavern when it started to rain. He was about to duck into its smoky interior, when he noticed two men in matching military jackets climb up to a second story window and crawl through. Now why, he wondered, would someone need to sneak into their own room? Unless it wasn't their room. With a feral grin, he noted which window on the second floor it was, then entered the tavern.

Although it would gain him no profit that he could see, Ioan was in a murderous mood, and the waves of pain radiating from his lacerated back only intensified those feelings. With a quick motion, he attracted the attention of the bar keep. "You might want to check the room third from the street. I saw two gentlemen sneaking in through a window. I don't think patrons usually use that mode of entry if they have a key."

The bar keep eyed him a minute, then huffed. "As if the Shipp ain't had trouble enough, now I have thieves! Wally," the bar keep shouted at a man the size and build of an ox, who was gathering empty tankards left on tables. "Go up to the third room on the left and check it. If there be anyone there as shouldn't be, you know what to do."

The ox named Wally grinned and headed for the stairs.

Ioan bought himself an ale and retreated to an empty table, careful not to lean back against the chair. No reason he should be the only miserable person in the place. He hoped Wally knocked the thieves senseless.

He drank down half his tankard, thinking about what he should do next. He needed a place to lay up for awhile, let his back heal, then make plans. He also needed more money. He'd had nothing but the clothes on his back when he'd escaped Charles Town and saught sanctuary on the Rakehell. But for a handful of coins, he had the same now he'd left it.

He wondered if the Lady Saint Claire had any other jobs a man might do to earn a little of the shiny. He glanced toward the stairs, knowing the Lady's room was here at the Shipp—a somewhat surprising choice of inn, he thought, considering her lofty station. He gulped down the rest of the ale, stood, and made his way toward the stairs. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he thought.

[Ransom]

The rain had almost stopped as I followed the professor to some unkown destination. The street was a steaming miasma of animal dung, smelly bodies, and overripe fruit from vendor's stalls. I had removed my jacket and slung it over one arm, but my shirt clung like a bandage to my sweating body. I could only imagine the rivers the professor must be sweating under his heavy dark scholar's robe.

As we passed the body of a bloated dead dog, whose rotting carcass added to the bloom in the air, I asked Professor Trilby, "How did you come in contact with this Andre' Devereaux?"

Trilby gave me a sideway's look. "That's a bit of a long story. He finds cerain books for me...and other things."

I thought back to the minor explosion that had taken place in his house on my first visit, and decided I probably didn't want to know what those "other things" were. "Tell me about Andre'."

Trilby snorted. "Be just as easy tae describe smoke. No one kens anything about Andre' but his family."

"Yet he deals in...commerce?"

Trilby snorted again. "Yea could call it that. Let's just say, if he decides tae deal with yea, then it's better nae tae ask where the goods come from or who they go tae."

We turned down a narrow side street, picked our way through garbage and two drunks, and emerged onto a wider main street. Trilby headed for a small, nondescript book shop, with living quarters, whose windows were draped with heavy red velvet, occuping the second floor.

Trilby paused before opening the door. "Let me make the introductions. Andre' probably won't be here, but Mr. Stockton will let him know there is business tae conduct."

I smiled. "Don't worry. I do know how to read. I'll pretend I'm in want of a copy of Samuel Peppy's diary."

Trilby glared at me, then opened the door of the book shop.

[Tess St. Claire]

Lady Tess sat upon her stripped bed drinking another shot of whiskey. This place was being run by an idiot. She thought to herself. Why would anyone want Killingsworth’s body? She dreaded the thought of telling Robert B. Darnly about this…but not just yet. Killingsworth’s body still needed to be found, but Sam wanted nothing to do with the search after she showed him the body for removal. He turned white as a sheet and ran out the door. She came to Port Royal to find Killingsworth, but was hoping to find Captain Sterling and perhaps make a little money too. But now, things were taking a horrible turn. She looked over at the writing desk. “No…not yet, I shan’t write you Darnly until I can manage a claim to Killingsworth’s body. But how…who will I seek out to assist in this tasks at hand?”

[Aurore Devareaux]

Devon Burke lounged against one of the towering shelves that occupied shop walls. This time of day usually brought a warm cast of sunlight to the particular spot which the young man of Cork origins relished when able. The grey overcast brought on by recent weather had done well to dampen normal lighthearted manner and reminded him overmuch of the land he had fled. Such notions brought further rankle to his temper as he watched traffic on the lane though window view.

A nudge of feline heralding drew his attention away and downward to accosted shin. Bright amber eyes surrounded by motley calico stared intently back with demanding airs. Devon shook his head chuckling as small bookstore habitant was lifted from floor planking, generating rough purr in response. Raising back to full height, movement from shop exterior caught the young man's focus.

Moving away from favored place of leisure, he called to elder gent who was busy dusting a section of shelf occupants. Stockton paused in duty at hand to watch agile movement of Irish lad slip from the lamp lit front chamber to more private sanctuary in the back. The feather duster resumed stroke, and continued thus as the front door opened then closed with stubborn creak of hinge.

[Rats]

Onward, the young Mr. Davis Spurred the horses.

As he made the sharp turn, he could feel the wheels start to raise from the ground, then suddenly regain it's rolling disposition. But as he flew through a clearing and almost collided with a passing merchant's wagon, young Davis finally close enough to spot the mill.

It was a lousey, rainy morning! Yet Abbigale Crane wasn't one to let a few drops keep her from her daily chores. But the sound of racing hooves and a string of profanity directed at the driver, caused Abbi to take notice of the approaching carriage.

"We're here Mistress!" Yelled Davis, as he brought the carriage to a sliding halt.

"Please mum, we 'ave an injured man in 'ere!" Called Davis, to the old lady who looked on with bewilderment. "I was instructed by Master Christophe to bring 'im ere!"

As Abbi carefully looked on into the carriage, she immediately recognized Mistress McKinney and the wounded Reiley.

"Are you alright mistress?" she asked Lilly.

"Just a bit shaken, thanks to our young daredevil here!" Lilly replied, jesturing toward the young Davis. "But I believe Mr. Reiley has taken a bullet."

"Well it wouldn't be the first, the idiot!" hissed Abbi, as she wiped her hands in her apron. "We best get him inside then... Come boy, give us a hand!"

[Aurore Devareaux]

Christophe lingered long enough to follow the carriage's swaying form dissapear into a copse of trees. Soaked thru, he ignored the cling of loose hair to his face and remounted the Bay. Once again surveying the surround, the Frenchman was grateful in ways of the weather's foul turn of temperment. The round of heavy tropical rains would make most change plans of dirt road trek, buying him time to deal with the matter at hand.

With a light touch, the Bay was eased to where lone stray mount had been join by a second; fourth was nowhere to be seen. Gaining near proximity, Christophe dismounted slowly and approached duo carefully with soft words. Sorrel was caught by rein dangle, his companion shying slightly to the left. Frenchman held his spot, continuing to speak in soft tone to nervouse other while reaching into pocket concealment. Ripe mango was produced and offered with extended hand. Dun pony eyed the spash of color with ears pricked forward, then took hesitant steps forward with a loud snort. Christophe stayed stock still with unsinkable patience and the Dun stepped a fraction closer to sniff portly red sweet.

Acting disintrested in quary's actions, Frenchman looked away as if ignoring the other's presence. The warm moist breath of opposition bathed upturned palm as mango weight left its' mid-air support....bridle was deftly snatched. The Dun danced backwards briefly then held position, retrieving dropped offering from muddied ground. Securing Dun resistant to Bay's more tranquile keeping, the Sorrel was led to carnage ground.

Watching the road, eldest Allister was hefted with effort over Sorrel back, then first was joined by second. Christophe gave subtle whistle to Bay's hearing then lead beast of burden to near distant overgrowth of scrub bush. Leaving the Bay under foliage cover, a return trip was made for the living and the dead. Allister accomplice was loaded first, then surviving lone bounty next and the trek was repeated.

Each was stripped of anything to be counted as worth and their features marred beyond recognition...except for the survivor. The last of Allister clan was given reprive in the form of tongue sacrifice, followed by the rendering of sight forever lost. Christophe wiped gore soaked blade on finale composition then turned away to gain Bay seat.

Steering the trusted transportation beyond underbrush barrier, Christophe lead newly aquired horses parallel to unseen road and followed stream to where the Mill lay snugged in tranquile setting.

Word would be sent to The Port and what had occured would vanish from sight and mind; as though nothing had transpired at all....

[Cheeky Actress]

As Davis and Abbi assisted the Doctor into the Mill, Lilly lagged behind as she made her way through the weathered archway. “God save you, Reiley.” Abbi muttered to herself. “What fit of trouble are you in now?” Reiley just winced as he was placed in the over size captain’s chair near the kitchen’s hearth. “Davis, be a love and gather some water from the barrel outside. I will be needing lots of it. From the small box of wood Abbi picked up a long narrow knife. “All your fancy book learning will do none of us any good if you do not stay awake to help me through this.” Rateye grabbed her hand and looked at her. “I would never think of dozing off on such sweet company as your, Abbi.” She felt herself flush a bit and smile. “Oh shut up, you!” Abbi quickly turned towards the little figure standing in the doorway. “Lilly…..Make yourself useful, child. I have a basket of linen rags underneath the table near my bed. Fetch them and bring them here. He’ll be needing them for mending.” Lilly did what she was told.

As she walked to the other side of the cottage, Lilly tried to shake the images of what occurred only moments ago from her mind. It happened so quickly and she felt herself shake when she saw the blood flowing from the good doctor. It was then she finally looked at her hands and gown. They now where stained with Rateyes’ blood. She stared at them for a moment. Lilly fell silent as if she had lost her own voice, but she could hear her mind screaming in horror. “Where did you go child?!” Yelled Abbi from the other room. Eyeing the basket where Abbi has said it was and Lilly quickly brought it forward to her.

“Quickly, help me off with his frock and shirt.” Instructed Abbi to Lilly. Davis had now brought in the water and poured it into the large kettle on the hearth. Slowly and carefully Lilly slide the linen shirt off his wounded shoulder. She watched his face wince again at the pain. Lilly felt horrible and wish she could do more. As Lilly looked down at the pale face of the doctor she whispered to him. “Reiley? You must pull through this.” She quickly grabbed a wet cloth and wiped his face.

[Rats]

"Mistress... McKinney...?" stuttered Reiley, as he tried to sit up. "I must confess dear lady.... I believe, I Am going.. to be... sick."

Then following his dillusional attempt at propriety, Reiley calmly leaned over and proceeded to fill nearby chamber pot.

"My appologies, my dear." insisted Reiley, attempting to appear the gentleman. "I believe I'm a bit disheveled..."

[Ransom]

Asking quick directions from the bar keep, Ioan climbed the stairs to the Lady Saint Claire's room. He hesitated in front of her door, not sure he wanted to involve himself with another domineering woman, but the emptiness of his purse spurred him to knock.

From down the hall could be heard shouting and the crashing of furniture. Ioan smiled. Apparently Wally was doing his duty.

[Liam Finn]

As Ian an I were going through what we got out of that fancy govners house, there was heavy footsteps in the hallway. Ian laid a hand on my shoulder and put a finger to his lips. We slowly rose from the side of the bed and stepped close to the door when there was a jingle of keys. I blew out the candle and drew a pistol, standing to the side of the door. It swung open and a large man filled the doorway. "Who's in dis rooum!" He yelled. I stuck my pistol to the back of his head. "I's in dis ere room, " I pulled back the cock on my pistol. "What you be doin' in my room?" I know the sound of the cock being drawn and the barrel against his head made him scared. "You ain't suposed to be in ere, ya got no right!" I chuckled, "Oh, But I do. . . You go tell th owner Ryan McFinney be in his room that ye promised him for, doing a service to im. . . . . Now run along and tell yer master!" I shoved him into the hallway and shut the door. I don't hear him leave so I yell through the door. "Go on ya bastard, bfore I call th' town guard fer breakin' inta me room!" I hear him lumber off then. I whisper to Ian, "You think he'll be back? We best hide our silver fore he do." "Aye brudder, an be ready ta go if th owner welches on is promise, we'll do im for it if he does." Aye Ian, we'll do im right if that be da case."

[Cheeky Actress]

Lilly pulled back in horror at first. First his blood now his sick…what in heaven’s name would be next?! She found herself rambling in thought, but the moment was short lived. Abbi looked back at her and shook her head. “I’d be surprised if that’s all he has in him. He is in the shallows of his body right now. My poor boy will not stay awake much longer if we do not lay him down. Davis!” Shouts Abbi. “Enough with the kettle. Help move Reiley to the table!” With the sounds of Abbi whispering care, they soon had Reiley laid out and Abbi took to raising his head with her best pillow. “Now you…” Abbi said pointing a finger at him. “Best not fall into dream when I am trying to mend you. Lilly, keep him talking…and I will do my best to be quick about this matter.” Lilly pulled up to Reiley’s side and smiled at him. She searched his face at first finding very difficult to think of anything to talk about as of the moment. As he opened his eyes again, she smiled down at him. “Have you ever been to the Royal Theater, Doctor?”

[Cheeky Actress]

Abbi felt the area where the bullet penetrated. “Blast!” She shouted as she threw down her knife. “It’s still in there. Reiley, you are gonna have to help me. I need you to roll over on your side.” He a faint nod, he somehow managed to pull his weight over to his side. Lilly quickly held him steady as Abbi examined further. Lilly again whispered to Reiley in a calm and soothing tone. “What do you fancy about London, Reiley? Do you miss your family? You’re friends…your girl?”

[Aurore Devareaux]

The old outbuilding lay shouded in obscurity beyond the Mill's more prominant placement. Dismounting, Christophe glanced towards mother structure to catch a barely visible hint of the carriage. Turning away to outbuilding's attention, one sagging door was pulled sluggishly open to reveal the dark yet dry interior. Horses three were lead inside and door pulled to, a barrage of semi stale scent hanging the air.

Mounts were attended to then ushered to rear corner which offered ramshackle containment. Christophe moved to structure center pausing there as memories took hold. Ghosts of days past pulled like needy children for acknowledgement. Here, this place that had acted as sanctuary and hidding five years before. Frenchman shook the memories from his mental facalties, then slipped out the way he had entered.

With soft step, rear portal of main structure was entered and he navigated familliar interior towards where voices drifted to hearing.

The scene that lay before him seemed over familiar as Christophe came to rest near hearth warmth. Abbi glanced up from current attentiveness and the Frenchman offered courtly bow in return.

[Rats]

“They’ll be hanginig ‘ol Rats if he gives em the chance!” Sung Reiley, as he rolled over. “E’s got an eye for the whiskey and the ladies who dance!”

“He’s out of his mind!” Cried Davis, as he helped steady Reiley “And what’s this Rats he’s talking about?”

“You never mind that son.” Interrupted Abbi. Just hold him down if I’m to be finding that bullet.”

[Cheeky Actress]

Lilly saw Abbi’s face for a brief moment. It was a mixture of fear and grief wrapped up in one. The two women looked at each other, but said nothing. “You child.” Whispered Abbi as she wrapped a bit of leather about a wooden spoon. “Make sure he doesn’t move too much.” Lilly looked down at the doctor and wiped his brow again. “Come now, Doctor…do as Abbi says. Take this and breath deeply if you can.”

[Rats]

"Looks like you'll be diggin, my dear..." Announced Reiley, as he allowed the spoon to be placed in his mouth. "Could.. be worse..."

In the next moment, a loud howl filled the kitchen, as Abbi, probed for the bullet.

"She's in there good!" Sighed Abbi, as she felt a sudden resistance.

"Might be easier if you just cut through from the other side??" Offered young Mr. Davis, as he sheepishly noticed all eyes turn to him."It's what we did for the captain...."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Christophe stepped forward from silent vigil, "Non...."

The ladies and boy turned to watch with puzzlment gracing their expressions. A flask was produced from inner pocket before the Frenchman disgarded woolen coat. The slate gray eyes regarded Abbi momentarily, then the knife in her hands.

"Non Madame Crane...I shall attend."

[Cheeky Actress]

Lilly watched Reiley suffer through Christophe's hand. By the time he was done pulling out the shot, he had very little strength left. As they watched Christophe tossed the shot into a bowl, he looked over at Lilly and Davis.

Abbi then broke the silence. “He’s far from being out of harm’s way. He will need plenty of rest and someone will need to keep watch so we will take turns looking over him. If he wakes up do come and get me. I want Davis to take the first watch. Lilly, you and I can sleep a bit. Christophe will watch after Davis. Now, let him be. We’ll move him after he rests a bit.” Lilly looked over at Christophe. Lilly looked down at the doctor, now resting soundly. “Christophe. Thank you.” She said softly and the tone of her voice was filled with deep emotion. With a nod, Christophe return to attending to Reiley.

[Rats]

"It was a lot of blood." Thought Davis, as he wiped his hands in a nearby towel. "Not much different than when he helped the good doctor with Captain Sterling."

"I'll be thanking you, Sir." Spoke Davis, bowing his head toward Christophe. "And for back on the road sir.... In all my life, I never seen anything.... like that. Sir."

[Cheeky Actress]

Abbi assisted Christophe to bandage the good Doctor. Davis and Lilly fetched a few quilts from a chest in Abbi's bedroom. "He's gonna need lots rest in the next few days. I better start making my tea." The old woman muttered. She then smiled a toothless grin at Christophe. "God bless you, Christophe. May God bless you and your family." The young Frenchman smiled, only to feel a little uncomfortable from the attention. As Lilly drew up the blankets about the sleeping doctor, she smoothed his hair back.