Port Royal, Jamaica

[Rateye]

To his surprise, Rieley had been hurried by the man Hazzards to the room of the very Captain Sterling of which he had talked so highly of. But more surprising was the inclusion of Hazzards' pistol, that insisted upon his full cooperation.

It was obvious the Captain was suffering with a horrible fever. Then looking back at Hazzards with pistol drawn, he could hear the tapistry of screams and subtle profanity from the lady who had been doused with the collection of a chabber pot.

Reiley couldn't help but admire and almost laugh at the situation he had suddenly gotten himself into.

"For god sake, put yer pistol away Hazzards. If you remember correctly, I still owe ye fer saving my life earlier."

"Well boy-O." Thought Reiley, as he glanced across the room. "Let's see if you still turn a stitch."

"Captain Sterling, I presume." Reiley began, as he took off his jacket and began rolling up his sleeves.

"Easy there!" Growled Hazzards, as he cautioned Reiley of any sudden movements.

"The name's Jacob Reiley." The stranger continued, with a slight nod. "And it looks like you're in need of a doctor. "

Then turning toward the man referred to as Symms, "How long has he been like this?" He asked, pulling the nearby lamp closer to the captain.

"Now see here!" interrupted Sterling. Annoyed at how this so-called Doctor Reiley had "as a matter of factly" began questioning Symms as to his opinion of his (The captain's) health.

"Easy Captain..." grinned the stranger, as he continued to examine Sterling. "No disrespect intended. It's just that when it comes to medicine, sometimes a clear head and a fresh perspective can help an opinion be formed. Besides sir, it's obvious you've been fighting a horrible fever and you should probably save yer strength..."

"Now Sir, if you don't want my help, I'll gladly be on my way. That is of coarse, just as soon as Mr. Hazzards lowers his pistol. Otherwise, let me do what I can for you."

[Rateye]

Following his assessment Reiley was sure the captain was suffering with a severe case of malaria. But without medicines and proper instruments there was no way he would be able to treat this man.

"Right! Here's what will happen, have plenty of clean water brought up! If it looks or tastes like filth, have the boy down stairs boil it first. While I'm gone, you'll force it down his hatch if you need to."

"Now see here! Interrupted Sterling, only to be held back by Symms.

"If you think you're going anywhere mate!" Threatened Hazzards.

"I am." interrupted Reiley. "And you'll be going with me! We have no time boy-O! There is but one place with the instruments and medicines I need and therefore WE will be going back to the house of Dr. Easterly."

"Onless of coarse you wish me to work miracles with what we have here." Snapped Reiley as he pawed the pistol barrel out of his way.

"Oh look," He continued. "we have a bedpan! Surley this man will be saved...!"

Taking a long hard look into Reiley's eyes, Hazzards leaned forward, "You owe me mate... If you try to slip out and my captain dies, there isn't a place in hell you'll be able to hide from me."

"Well then you'll be wise to keep up, my friend." Grinned Rieley, as he donned his jacket and hat. "Becasuse we havn't much time to lose."

[Hazzards, M.]

“Believe me,” says I. “I will not let ye out of my sight and if you try anything amiss, your brief but honest turn of getting that letter back to its rightful owner will suddenly slip my mind.”

I fall into step behind this so called doctor, my pistol still at the ready in case he bolts once we make the street. With night coming fast upon us, it would be too easy for him to get himself lost in Port Royal. Keep on his heels, thinks I. Close indeed.

I can hear Symms coming down the steps behind us doing as he’s been told and I suddenly remember Mistress McKinney’s letter in my pocket. I can see her, as we pass to the door. Angry as a hornet is she, being helped by one of the tavern whores to clean herself up. Surely Symms has outdone himself this time, thinks I with a laugh. Though if the captain finds out there will be hell to pay.

“I’ve something of yours Mistress,” calls I to the unfortunate girl. “If all goes well with the doctor here, I will call upon you and see it safely restored to you.”

I cannot wait for her reply, already Symms has made his way into the kitchen and Reiley’s hand is upon the door handle…..

[Cheeky Actress]

I cannot wait for her reply, already Symms has made his way into the kitchen and Reiley’s hand is upon the door handle…

With her mind reeling from the heated pitch of anger, Lilly watched Symms enter the kitchen and Hazzard follow Dr. Reiley out of the Tavern. She looked at the old man with contempt. How dare he shame her...and he had been humiliated in front of her lover. She never had a chance to explain the letter or herself... and now stood in the crowded Tavern while Colleen and Sally tried to wipe the excrement from her best gown. She felt her face flush, quickly slapped the girls hands to cease their busy work. “Enough…Enough I say!” This was something she wasn’t going to stand for.

As she pressed through the crowd she found her way to the front door and finally to the street. The streets were crowded this time of night and she walked in a quicken paced to avoid being seen is such a condition. The smell made her wretch as the warm night air only added to her moment of torture. Down to the harbor she found herself near one of the ware areas where goods had been stored upon the docks until morning. She broke out in tears and she looked at the ship, The Resurrection. She cursed it under her breath as she looked down at the only best dress she brought with her to Port Royal. In a fit of heated anger, she started to pull and tare at the sleeves, the lace collar and the skirts. Within moments, she stood in her stays and underpinnings and tossed the silk dress into the harbor.

As watched the silk dress become engulfed by the water. Suddenly, she heard a sound coming from behind one of the barrels. Then the words, “Pity that…nice dress it was.” She quickly turned around only to find the young man, Bart, she saw earlier from the Tavern lay half asleep and half drunk before her eyes. “Now you have nothing to wear…but I do like the stays, Mistress.” And with that, a leering look came over him which for the first time since she arrived at Port Royal...made her feel dread.

[Andrew March]

Andrew March tried to make himself comfortable as his wife readied herself for bed. It was late and Skittles had spent most of the evening preparing her husband's best clothes. There were spots to be removed, tears to be mended and buttons to be fixed.

He lay abed watching as she remade one of the silk Dorset buttons on his frock coat. If it were not for her skills as a sempstress Andrew, his Captain and the other officers of the Archangel would be all the more worse for wear when far from London Towne.

"I am almost done," she said softly. "You should try and sleep now Mr. March. You have a very important meeting tomorrow when off you go to see Sir Henry. "

"Aye, Mistress March. The captain is depending on the likes of me to see to aquiring his Letters of Marque."

"You will do fine. Ja, both I and Captain Sterling know this well, Mr. March," Skittles said as she bit off the end of silk, gave her husband's coat one last brush and placed it carefully on the back of a chair. She blew out the candle she was using and made her way to the bed.

"I think I cannot get used to sleeping on land after so long on the Archangel," she laughed gently as she climbed in beside her husband. She snuggled up close to him. "Come now, Mr. March, close your eyes and rest. All will go well with Sir Henry, I have heard it said he needs all the best crews he can get and you know well enough there is none better than ours." She leaned over and kissed him.

"Mistress March, would ye be so kind as to look in on the poor captain? I've been so busy with the shipyard and the careening, I've not heard word as to his well being," March said with a yawn.

"Ja, Mr. March. I was going to ask you this as well," Skittles replied.

"Good tis settled then. If I not be all day with Sir Henry, I shall meet ye there when I be done."

[Rateye]

Following a mad dash to the home of Doctor Easterly, Reiley collected the various medicines and assorted instruments for treating the captain.

"What do you need of me?" Huffed Hazzards as he tried to catch his breath.

"Here, fill this pillow case with the bandages in that small cupboard." snapped Reiley. "He'll need clean dressing for when we bleed him."

After collecting a wooden case of various medicines and ointments, Reiley took to filling a leather traveling bag with an ungodly array of surgen's tools.

"C-mon boy-o!" Urged Reiley, as he slunging the bag and case across his person. "No time to waste!"

But as Reiley and Hazzards quickend into the street, a pistol shot shattered the lamp that was hanging above door.

"There they are lads!" Yells the street tough Hazzards had scared off earlier in the day. Only now he was accompanied by three other hooligans.

Ducking back into the doctor's home. Hazzards and Reiley crouch behind the doorway.

"This is the kind of distration we really cannot afford!" Spits Reiley as he drew his pistol.

"Go then!" yelled Hazzards as he drew his own pistol. "I'll be staying here to keep em busy!"

Then grabbing Reiley by the arm, "You owe me mate! Don't you be letting me down!"

"I'll meet you there then!" nodded Reiley as he handed Hazzards his pistol, then darted out the back door with the much needed cargo.

Running like a man possessed, he could hear the gunshots echo down the alleyway. Then as he raced to the tavern and up the back stairs, he frantically pushed through the assortment of harlots and drunkards.

Eventually bursting into the captain's chambers, Reiley began preparing the tools and instruments needed to tend to the captain. It appeared that in his weakened state, the captain had fallen asleep.

"How is he, then?" questioned Reiley, again rolling up his sleeves.

"Where's Mr. Hazzards?!" Demanded Symms.

"He'll be with us shortly... I hope!" replied Reiley as he arranged the various blades necessary for bleeding.

"You'll also need to be stoking that fire, Mr. Symms! We'll be burning the bells tonight!"

[Rateye]

During the next few hours Reiley attempted to treat the captain with a series of remedies which included blood-letting and also bell-burning.

Following this grueling treatment Reiley mixed together a combination of rose leaves, lemon juice, wine and Peruvian bark, thereby making a remedy known a cinchona, which was often used to treat auges and fevers. This remedy was then administered to the captain through out the night.

As the morning birds could be heard outside the window, Reiley and Symms were both exhausted from tending to the captain.

"Is that all you can do for me captain, lad?" Asked Symms as he slowly flopped into a chair.

"Are you a religious man, Mr. Symms??" answered Reiley.

[Capt. Sterling]

‘Aye enough to know the captain needs someone prayin over him on a daily basis, “ the old man said with a huff. He glanced over Reiley once, it was true the man had done the best he could, and looked weary enough for his efforts. “Thank ye fer trying lad,” Symms said then fixed his stare on the man in the bed.

“This will kill Mother Rose it will, ifin he doesn’t be pulling through this time round,” he added with a sigh.

“Mother Rose? You mean the London bawdy house mistress?” Reiley asked.

“Aye, the very one. Do you know her then?” Symms asked, still focused on the slow rising and falling of his captain’s chest.

“Who doesn’t? The greatest beauty of our age,” Reiley replied. “I’ve seen her once and she lives up to her title that one does. He knows her then?” he added with a nod of his head toward his patient then added with a grin. "Fortunate fella he is."

But the old steward did not seem as amused.

“Aye that the captain does. I remember a time when I were at a loss for a ship. I were in the said house for the first time. The wars were over… at least for a time and he had just returned home. A young captain he was then, but then his father could purchase for him his heart’s content. And yet he were a successful one in spite of some of the jealous scuttlebutt amongst some of the other captains. Ye see,” Symms turned and looked to his companion and leaned forward with a conspiratorial whisper.

“There be those that say although the captain be Lord Sterling’s son, he be not his legitimate heir but a bastard brought back into the fold. Be that as it may, I were in said house that now bears Mother Rose’s title and it seems to me that some how he had managed a hand in aiding her to make the purchase of it. She owns a number of profitable businesses now, thanks to her past …” he paused and cleared his throat. “Efforts shall we say? Ever so close they were then. Carried on together like lovers even in public, and yet the captain has never laid claim to Mother Rose in such a fashion…”

“Perhaps,” Reiley chuckled . “Because so many others do it for him. I must confess I’ve heard the rumors also but I never reckoned he to be one and the same Sterling. And why has there not been a match between the two then?”

“Aye but Rose be a force to be reckoned with and values her freedom too much… sometimes I think she’s driven that characteristic into the captain as well… she has a tremendous influence over him, unlike any other woman. And it is said that she trusts him more than any other man she knows. I have seen the pair together and I can believe this is true of what is said of them… and yet, once he fell head over heels for a girl that worked in Mother Rose’s employ. Actually up and married this Tess and his father were furious with him! But not nearly as much as Rose.

In time though, seeing the captain’s happiness, Mother Rose came around again but the father never did. Cut his son off he did, completely, even went so far as to have him thrown out of court. ‘Sir John’ is now a thing of the past, although the captain has his lesser George still… and some say thanks to Rose for that as well.

Things are still not well between father and son and all the more this fine lady has stepped in to help out the captain. Grown closer they have and with time most likely closer still. By all that’s holy, some even say it were her that raised the money to ransom him from the Turks, but that is nigh impossible for a woman of her class. Most believe it was Queen Mary who done so for him as he was always a favorite. Turned heads he did before the Turks got hold of him and disfigured his face. He could have had his pick of ladies and he threw it all away for some pretty whore.

And now look at him… tis not like he’s not been plagued by ague before… picked that up from the Turks as well he did, but he has never let himself get this poorly before. Ifin ye ask me its because of that sea witch actress he’s taken with now. By the devil, she will not have him as a proper husband, and yet she always comes back to him and sets his hopes up all over again.”

Symms looked back at his charge and lowered his own head with a sigh. “Tis my fault, really, that he’s like this now. Never should I have allowed her to stay the other night with him. She’s done it to him again and I fear he may be finally giving up. Shook he were when I came to serve em their breakfast. Like someone managed to drive a cutlass through him.” He turned his head and looked at Reiley. “I say me prayers for him, but I wonders, can even God help a man who allows himself to be a fool over such a woman?”

[Rateye]

"Well sir.." Sighed Reiley. "I'll make no promases as to the result. But I will say this,.. Bad as it was, I strongly doubt that anyone who has lived through as much as he, will allow a mere auge to finish him."

"By the way Mr. Symms." Added Reiley as he stood and again donned his coat and hat. "What you told me in confidence about the captain... It will be kept as such. You have my word. But in the meanwhile I fear that Mr. Hazzards has fallen into trouble."

Rummaging through his bag of stolen items from Dr. Easterly's house, Reiley found the second dueling pistol and tucked it under his jacket.

"There's enough of that brew for the rest of the day. And with any luck I'll be back with Mr. Hazzards before long. But while tending to your captain, and as I said before, if the water looks or tastes of filth..."

"Yes, yes, I'll not be wanting to use it, less the boy had er boilin'." Answered Symms

[Capt. Sterling]

Symms rose and walked Reiley to the door. But before the man could leave, Symms blocked his path.

“The captain were a kind man to take me on as his steward when times were tough. I want to be thinking ye fer helping him tonight. I do not know where I’d be without the Archangel or this man. Where might I be finding ye ifin the captain has need of ye again? And,” Symms paused a moment. “I know he’ll be wantin to square with ye… a labourer is always worthy of his wages, he’ll be sayin as soon as he can.”

As the old man waited for Reiley’s answer, he held out his hand to him. “I be sure I be not the only one thankful for yer services.”

[Rateye]

"No thanks'll be needed friend." Replied Reiley as he shook the old stewarts hand. "Your man Hazzards saved me life not once, but twice. Now if I can find him in good health, we'll be square. You'll be seeing me again."

Then racing down the back stairs, Reiley made all haste to street where he had last seen Mr. Hazzards.

Then slowing to a quick walk, Reiley cautiously scanned the area for any sign of Mr. Hazzards or the riff-raff he fought with during the hours prior.

[Hazzards, M.]

What a day I’ve had, sighs I as I make my way back to the inn once more. What a band of rogues to set upon this fellow Reiley. Surely, thinks I, there be a story to tell behind this all… unless they actually be only after Dr. Easterly. For a moment I pause to wonder what has become of the real Easterly, but there is not time to think as I walk with the guard. Thanks be for the night watchman just making his rounds as Reiley took off, hopefully to keep his end of the bargain. I do not know how well I may have faired if the alarm had not been sounded and a few good men had not come to my defense.

Still the scuffle continued for more than any man would care for, but safe enough I’ve come from it. I’ve told my story to the guard as some others march the rogues off to goal for the night. But he now wants to talk to the fellow they claim they were really looking for says the guard. Know him well, for I came to his aide before says they. So now one man comes with me to confront the man I’ve seen slip them earlier.

As we near the Inn, I see Reiley passing through the front door, still carrying the gear he… I pause in me thinking and correct myself… we stole only a few hours before. I catch his eye and he slows his pace. For a moment he looks about himself. Ready to turn and flee, wonders I?

“Is this the man the ruffs were referring to?” the guard asks of me as we near Reiley. Looks at the man in question, does I. “How be my Captain ?” asks I.

Reiley looks me in the eye. “I’ve done my best. All that is left be in God’s hands now, according to Mr. Symms.”

The guard repeats his question. “Is this the man?” asks he.

I look Reiley back square in the eye, then turn to the guard.

“No, this be a Doctor Jefferson Reiley. I believe he is a mate of Dr. Easterly’s. Perhaps the man ye be looking for is in the pub. Shall I come and look around with ye?” asks I. The guard nods his head but as I turn to follow him I stop close to Reiley and allow the guard to walk on ahead. “Ifin ye want there still be that opening for a surgeon on the Archangel, I will put in a good word with the captain for you. What say you Doctor?”

[Rateye]

As I spot the man Hazzards, I can't help but feel relieved that the scrapper hadn't been murdered by the riff-raff that set upon me earlier that night.

But noticing the night watchman alongside him, I couldn't help but wish for an opportunity to escape. However, to my astonishment, this man, this unbelieviably heroic bastard known as Hazzards, not only keeps my warrant in confidence, but also offers me the position as surgeon for the Archangel.

"In that case, Mr. Hazzards. It would be my honor..." I say as I pick up step beside him. "Jacob Reiley, Ship's doctor... By God, who would have ever thought...?"

[Hazzards, M.]

"Well then," says I. "There be a guard I need to be given the run around for a bit longer," I can not help but grin. "Then to check on the Captain. Take ye to breakfast I would, but I cannot say how long the law will keep me about. And then I must see to Mistress McKinney's letter...Um..A number of the crews' officers have taken rooms down by the docks. The ship be in for a refit in the yards. We be hoping she'll be ready to shove off with Sir Henry. Master March, he be our first officer, has a interview with old Morgan some time today, in the Captain's stead. If ye make yerself known at the Nag's Head, they should be able to be findin ye a room with some of the others."

I move past him, hoping the guard is not wondering where I've gotten myself off to.

"Thanks again," says I then turn to face Reiley again. "If ye can, see to puttin Dr. Easterly's things back at his place. We shall see if we can't be gettin ye your own kit durin the week ahead."

[LadyBarbossa]

Any activity upon the Resurrection had been nigh silent and low profile.

The ship had departed from the docks only to set anchor nearby away from the docks. The waves rocked the crimson and black ship.

Aboard Ana was drinking herself drunk. Bordom... fear... she ached for something to hunt and haunt. To search for something odd and off the wall. Bad enough to be recent under the deguise of a Merchant ship. Granted a fine and fancy one. But... they'd no done any pirating recently and she'd a feeling that if nothing came up soon enough... she'd find herself either mutinied upon, marooned or dead and her supposed trusted crew taking off with her beloved ship.

It seemed to her too quiet. Either Admiral Morgan was conjuring up something or they fleet had suffered that much.

Weather had actually forced the delay in leaving. But she hoped in 2 days time to leave Port Royal. Unfortunately... it lacked character. At least... to her. Naples was far more exciting than this Caribbean port.

What's worse... the recent man who wished to join her... hovered about her during the Memorial... disappeared once she showed her true colors. Narrowing her eyes as she saunted out onto the main deck.. gazing back to Port Royal. Taking a drink of her mixture of grog... pondering. She didn't like Mr Read knowing who she was. More than likely... he'd blab her identity.

"Mr Graves?" she called out then took a drink.

"Aye?" the fine man with long curly hair and a striking face replied as he strode up to her.

"I do believe our cover is in jeopardy. We've need to go ashore and find a certain Mr Read." taking another drink. "Otherwise we may find ourselves dancing at the end of a hangman's noose."

"Aye. Understand." Graves turned around and sent a couple men ashore to hunt down Mr Read.

Ana stood there... wondering what to do with this threat as she drank.

[Rateye]

"That I will Mr. Hazzards." I say as I give a nod of appreciation. "But I believe this will be the first time I've ever broken in to return something. "

"I'll also be headed back to check on the captain then. I'll also tell Mr. Symms you're faring well."

"And Mr. Hazzards... Thanks again!"

[Major Thomas Beckwith]

Why thank you Major. Your father has been most helpful to the Crown and the people of Jamaica as always. I trust that we can meet tomorrow, perhaps around noon, for lunch and discuss our mutual interests.

It is late now, and I must retire for the evening.

"It is both my father's pleasure, and my own, sir. Tomorrow noon will be most agreeable, sir. Until then, I wish you good evening."

Beckwith took his leave, and headed toward Fort Charles, as the hour was late. The streets were still lively with lads on shore leave looking to quench their thirst and slake their lust. As he neared Fisher's Row, he heard a loud, gruff voice behind him.

" 'Ere, lookee, if it ain't a rich man's son, dressed like a dandy toy soldier, eh wot, lads?" This was followed by vulgar oaths and menacing movements from a group of several dock hands, armed with clubs and machetes.

"What is the meaning of this?", Beckwith stormed. He pointed to a lad armed with a machete, the one who had spoken. "I demand an explanation!"

"Well, yer honor, we jus' figgered ye had loose coin to donate. And, as yer just a dandy dressin' the part, we'll help ye ta give it over!"

The man made a move towards Major Beckwith, raising his weapon. In an instant, Beckwith's cutlass was drawn, and, having fought many a battle aboard the confined quarters of an enemy gun-deck, quickly closed the distance between himself and his opponent. The thug hadn't expected so bold a move from his "prey", and swung his blade wide of his mark. It was just the error Beckwith had counted on. He parried a second attack, and swung his cutlass downward, catching the man across his ribcage. Shocked by the wound, the dock-hand paused, giving Beckwith an opening to hack into the man's beefy neck, severing his artery. The man fell to the ground, quickly bleeding to death.

The remaining thieves hastily made their retreats.

The ruckus had been overheard by the fort's roving foot patrol, who quickly arrived at the Major's side.

"Corporal, do have two of your men fetch the coroner and some men to clean this mess."

Major Beckwith calmly walked the remaining block back to the Fort, where he immediately retired to his quarters. He began to undress for bed, when he felt his hands begin to shake, as after every battle. He sat, and memories of past skirmishes flooded his mind. He could almost once again see the life leave the eyes of that French lieutenant off the coast of Africa. Or during the Battle of Solebay, where several Dutchmen fell to the bullets and bayonet of his musket. Dear Lord, the hole a lead ball could put into a man!

Still half dressed, Beckwith fell into a fitful sleep, where he dreamed gunsmoke whirled about him, and saw the seas running red...

[Capt. Sterling]

“Cate?” Sterling muttered as he tried to stir himself. By God, he felt horrible …. “Cate!”

“Easy there Captain… ye be in Jamaica sir, not London Towne… the good Empress can no help ye,” Symms said, keeping his voice low. “Ye have let yerself wait too long this time with the sickness, sir. Thank God fer Mr. Hazzards finding ye a doctor to tend to ye. Pleased I am to be seein ye awake sir. Ye gave us a good fright this time.”

“What be the time?” Sterling asked, struggling to sit up. He felt the steward hold him down.

“Tis early yet sir. The sun not yet be up besides ye be goin no where this day or the next. We all be needin ye to get well. Ye do not want the Admiral to be pressing the Archangel now do ye? Join in this scrap of yer own free will is what ye should be known fer otherwise folks will only be remembering that we was pressed and not that ye were too ill to get the proper papers.”

“Master March?” Sterling asked too weary to fight the old man.

“Sent word did he. Yer precious ‘Angel is in good hands in the yards. They be doing a fine job refitting her, they be … and Mistress March will be coming later in the day to pay ye a visit..”

“And where is she?” Sterling asked. He closed his eyes, too tired to hold them open.

“I hear she and Mr. March are staying close to the….” Symms began.

“Not Skittles… Lill… Mistress McKinney. Where is she?” Sterling whispered.

“I think it best sir ye go back to sleep fer now. Rest is what ye be needing,” Symms said readjusting the bedclothes.

[Rateye]

With a change in luck, I find myself in uncharted territory. For some unknown reason, I've been allowed a second chance in life to once more use the skills of medicine I had learned as a young man. It is a far cry from an outlaw's life. However, it is a second chance just the same. Which is more than I would have ever recieved while standing on the gallows.

As I watch the man Hazzards lead the watchman on a fool's errand, I make my way to the room of Captain Sterling. My goal is now to check upon his well being and to retrieve the pilfered medicines and surgical instrumentations from the generous Doctor Easterly.

Knocking on the chamber door, I was welcomed by the man Symms.

"Mr., I mean Dr. Reiley! Come in lad, come in... We were just talking about you."

Unaware of whom he was referring to,"We?" I questioned.

[LadyBarbossa]

After a search of Port Royal, the men returned to the Resurrection.

In the Captain's Quarters....

"No sign o' th' man ya spoke of, Cap'm," the led of the party informed.

Seated there in the elegantly carved ebony and plush crimson velvet upholstered chair.. Ana gazed ahead with mild reservation and annoyed thought. Then sat up, reaching for her glass.

"Then perhaps, I must take drastic measures to ensure our own survival, gents."

Taking a sip of her drink then motioned to the cabinet. "Bring me the writing desk," as she sat down the glass.

A man turned and gathered up the desk.. and brought it over, setting it before her.

Lifting up the lid, withdrawing ink, paper, quill, powder, wax and a seal-

"Summon Mr Moultrie, please?" she requested as she began to prep and write.

A man slipped out to get Moultrie.

When Moultrie entered the cabin with the man who sent for him, Ana was finished writing and had sealed the letter.

Handing it to Moultrie, "Take this to Admiral Morgan. I'm sure he won't turn down a meeting with a charming woman who's life is being threatened." Smirking as Moultrie took the letter.

Moultrie nodded. "Oui," and he turned around, exiting the cabin.

"Back to your stations, gents. Ya did what you could." Standing up as she put the writing utensils away in the desk.

Moving over to where the desk lay before, returning it there. She watched as the last one left.

Pondering a moment as she strode over to the table, picked up the glass... swirled it around while gazing at it. Then turned her eyes out to watch the sea.

Downing the last of her drink.. then setting the glass down.. she strode out of the Cabin... out on deck... glancing about in search of-

"Ahh, Mr. Graves," she chimed in and began to walk towards him as he watched one of the boats shove off.

"Yes, Captain?"

"No doubt you are curious about why I sent Mr Moultrie to Admiral Morgan?" she stated.

"Not in the slightest," he replied with a smirk.

She grinned in return. "I do believe we have reason to suspect that if a certain Mr Read either won't join us.. then he must be dealt with. And by all means... I intend to ensure that WE do not dance at the end of the Hangman's Necklace."

"Wise notion," he replied as he gazed at the long boat. "But why the Admiral. Surely that will .. draw more attention to us."

"On the contray, I've an idea." she smirked as she faced him.

[Capt. Sterling]

"Mr., I mean Dr. Reiley! Come in lad, come in... We were just talking about you."

Unaware of whom he was referring to,"We?" I questioned.

"Aye lad," the old steward said. "Ye will be happy to be knowing the Captain is awake. Still a bit worn and worse fer wear he be, but awake and talkin none the less."

Symms stepped aside to allow Reiley to enter then followed in after him.

Sterling, propped up amongst thread bare pillows, the best the inn had to offer, was forced to turn most of his head to see the gentleman who entered his room.

"Go to his other side, " the steward whispered to Reiley. "So's he can see ye better."

"Symms?" Sterling asks, wishing to know the identity of the stranger.

He looked and sounded exhausted, and yet the high colour of the fever he had been fighting at the beginning of the last evening seemed to have tempered. Still...

"This be Doctor Reiley, Dr. Easterly's assistant," the steward explained. "The young gentleman I were telling ye about."

Sterling's eyes narrowed as he studied the man Symms had just presented to him. "Dr. Easterly's assistant?" Sterling asked.

"Do ye know him sir?" Symms asked as he began to arrange the table for the morning meal.

Sterling continued to stare hard at Reiley. Where had he seen this man before? Finally he shook his head, remembering the steward's question.

"Nay, I have not had the pleasure of making Dr. Easterly's acquaintance." For a moment, the concerned look vanished from the captain's features and his expression seemed to brighten. "Now I remember ye! You were here... with Mr. Hazzards when... after he had been able to retrieve Mistress McKinney's letter. So then," he said, the drawn look returning to reclaim him. He lifted his bandaged arm. "I have thee to thank for this?"

[Rateye]

"You really got yer self in it this time boy-o." I thought as I shook the captain's hand. "Better think fast little rabbit or you'll find yerself in the cook pot."

"No thanks is necessary Captain Sterling." I replied as I shook the gentleman's hand. "It was the least I could do for the assistance your man Hazzards had offered to me."

The pausing for a second, "Also I would have to correct Mr. Symms, for I am not Dr. Easterly's assistant... Though a doctor of medicine just the same, I am just glad that I was able to provide the needed care to see you well again. Which is all that is important."

"Wouldn't you agree?"

[sirhenrymorgan]

It had been a long day to say the least. The visit by the Major had only extended it. But the matters of war were urgent enough that the days would only get longer in the coming weeks. Preparations needed to be made, men pressed into action, even if against their will, commissions to be drawn up, arms to be readied and a Council to mollify.

The hour was late. I prepared for bed. How I missed my dear wife on these sultry nights in Port Royal. I longed to be back at the plantation with her. But duty called and matters of the heart must wait another day.

I undressed and put the light out. As I began to slumber, I heard a knock on the door. On of the servants answered it. It was no doubt another request from some villager for one thing or another.

Oh, well. It can certainly wait until morn.

The servant greeted the man at the door and received a letter for Admiral Morgan. The writing was from a beautiful hand. He placed it on the stand next to the door and retired for the evening as well.

[Bartholomew Treate]

I woke suddenly to voices. I quickly glanced back toward the road. Several figures were in shadows there.

"Well, yer honor, we jus' figgered ye had loose coin to donate. And, as yer just a dandy dressin' the part, we'll help ye ta give it over!"

I couldn't make out the man saying this but the silhouette of a military man was hard to miss. He quickly drew on the thieves and dispatched them with ease. A few men from the fort, overhearing the ruckus, came to the soldier's aid.

"Corporal, do have two of your men fetch the coroner and some men to clean this mess."

Obviously, it was one of the higher ranking officers. Better him than me I thought. He could at least afford to lose more than I could.

I closed my eyes again, thinking how ironic it was that these thieves would have ended up the same either way on this very night.

[Ransom]

After a long day wandering Port Royal, mainly to get my bearings and pick up any gossip, I discovered the town was abuzz with activity and rumor. The most important recent event being the destruction of the Oxford, and the death of most of her crew. Apparently there had been a well-attended church service only a day or so ago. Better the Rakehell arrived in port too late for my attendance, as I feel sure lightening would have struck me should I have stepped one booted toe over that sanctified threshold.

I have also picked up news that the Captain of the Archangel is ill from some fever, and that a woman friend of his was doused with a chamber pot. I had to grin at this, for I know who the lady was, from having seen her in London, before my exile. I could only imagine what a thunderstorm that act had caused.

Of Admiral Morgan, I've seen nothing, but heard he was gathering ships for some great act of war against the Spanish. Not wanting the Rakehell involved in that venture, I played the innocent, if that's possible after all I've lived through and witnessed, and did not let on I was the captain of the sleek little schooner so recently arrived.

On returning to the ship, I was pleased to find Ioan already back on board. He informed me he'd made arrangements for revictualling, but that it was going to cost more than I had bargained—or had purse for.

"Blast and damn!" I snapped in frustration. "We need coin, Ioan, or we'll be stuck in this port long enought for old Morgan to press us into service for his grand adventure.

Ioan shrugged. "Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Maybe he'd pay the merchants off for us, if we joined him."

I looked at him as if he'd gone mad. "I'd prefer to make a few "acquisitions" of our own, before I turn my ship over to Morgan.

"You're the captain," he replied with a mock salute.

"Careful, Ioan. Don't push my patience too far. You won't live to regret it."

As he gave me a more dutiful salute and walked away, I turned my gaze out to sea. What caught my eye gladdened my heart. How could I have missed it before? The Resurrection. What, I wondered, could Ana be doing here? Retreating to my cabin, I quickly took out pen, ink and paper, and wrote her a quick note.

My dear Ana, what ever can you be doing in Port Royal? Due to our mutual stock in trade, I am

only too glad to see your lovely ship, and feel we should meet. It has been what, a year since

last we drank together? I confess, I am in sore need of a bit of "income" for revictualling, so

wondered if perchance we two ladies of the trade might discuss business over a few tankards.

What say you?

Ransom

On board the Rakehell

Returning to the deck, I yelled with impatience, "Goose, you devil, where are you?"

"Here, Captain." Goose scurried out of the galley, his shirt smeared with the night's meal.

"Take this note over to the Resurrection, yonder." I pointed to the impressive vessel. "Quick now."

"Aye, Captain." He pulled at his wisp of a forelock, and rushed off to do my bidding.

I returned to my cabin, eagerly awaiting Ana's reply.