Port Royal, Jamaica

[Capt. Sterling]

"GET OUT!!"

"John, keep yer voice down please! Or all will be for naught!"

"DAMNATION!! I SAID GET OUT!!"

March cringed inwardly as the scenario again played itself out in his mind as he entered the captain's quarters. Same thoughts had occurred again and again since the first officer watched Mistress Sterling ride away from home's window. He had believed that the captain's foul humor, as news unfolded, would be their undoing as his voice echoed about the ship and silent port. And he had considered several ways of fighting the din.

As he closed the cabin door behind him, he found the captain propped up in the new bunk, cleaned and dressed for bed. Symms stood besides him, holding meal consisting of simple broth. With only raise of hand, meal was ordered aside enabling Sterling to give full attention to what friend had to convey. March was prepared for the outburst, but such never came. Instead as lieutenant made his report, Sterling fell as uncommonly quiet as the night about them. And yet, mask never slipped into place. Illness had ravaged facial expression far less than effect of news. Slowly, head was turned toward hull of ship and away from watching eyes. All else was quickly forgotten, including soup which remained idly by in steward's grasp.

"Send Mr. Straw to me." Sterling requested, voice but monotone whisper.

"John…" March said, daring to step closer. But good eye closed and head lowered with a slight shake of negation.

"Get out," came simple, nearly silent, reply.

Edited December 20, 2008 by Capt. Sterling

[Dan Reid]

MacCraige made his way to the street and stood for a moment upon the stoop taking in the nights activities. There was not much to be seen. No townsfolk roamed from tavern to tavern, an odd silence pervaded the dimly lit streets, a silence that spoke of terrible things to come. The only souls to be seen were the many members of the watch. Much more than should normally have been visible on any other night. He stepped from the tavern's door and immediately set off to search for the watch commander.

Not many steps were taken before he was accosted by soldiers from the garrison, bayonets pointed menacingly towards his chest.

"What business do you have about this night?" the young leiutentant ask as he stepped to the side of the men, a hand resting lightly upon the grip of his pistol.

"I be Laird Hamish MacCraige, captain o' the 'Mist Reiver' out o' Aberdeen. A lady, a companion o' mine, 'as been grieviously wounded above." MacCraige pointed towards the Three Crowns. "She be on the very doorstep o' death. I be searchin' fer a doctor and fer the watch commander. Now stand yer men aside an' let me on me way." MacCraige stated with an air of authority.

"My lord, there have been many dire deeds committed this night." the soldiers lowered their bayonets. "Why just moments ago two fellows from the Arch Angel bore their dead captain to his ship." the young officer pointed towards the harbor.

"The ArchAngel ye say?" MacCraige asked. "I be knowin' that fine gentleman. He be dead?"

"Aye sir," came the reply.

"There be a doctor there upon that ship. Me own surgeon were killed in the past storm. I be fer goin' there straight away te gain 'is help wit' me friend."

"As you wish, m'lord, please allow us to escort you" the soldier requested.

"That not be necessary" MacCraige replied. "I would that ye find the watch commander an' 'ave 'im report ta me first mate, Mr MacGregor who is stationed above wit' me injured friend. He 'as orders fer none ta enter save meself. 'Ave the watch await me return, if ye please."

"Aye sir, I will see to it personally." the soldier replied.

"I be thankin' ye kindly. Now if ye please, I be seein' to the doctor, straight away." MacCraige strode past the soldiers and made his way quickly to the docks.

[Dan Reid]

MacCraige made his way to were the ArchAngel lay tied in her berth. As he approached he noticed the gang way raised and the crew at a ready state of watch. He saw a man leaning on the rail above.

"Ahoy the ship!" he called out to the man at the rail. "I be lookin' fer Mr March, be he aboard?"

Dr. Reiley looked down at MacCraige from the rail...

[Professor Angus Trilby]

It had been a trying day for Professor Trilby. Bad enough that his expeiment that morning had gone sour, and had taken forever to clean up, but then the town became all in a dither over escaped slaves and a murdered overseer. Guardsmen had come pounding on his door, wanting to know if he were harboring anyone suspicious.

"Suspicious! Yea daft noddies. I'm nae harboring anyone but yonder feline." He pointed to Cleopatra, who lay supine on the floor, ignoring the ruckus.

"Who's that, then?" One guard pointed at Souris, who cowered behind Angus's robe.

"That's nae any of your red-coated business. Now, take yourselves off mae doorstep." He had slammed the heavy oak door, and refused to answer it when, later in the day, it was pounded on again.

Taking refuge in the roof top patio, Augus watched the guardsmen, like so may red ants, scurry from one end of town to the other. They were still making a nuisance of themselves way after dark.

Augus retreated to his study, muttering, "Bloody town is getting worse and worse. If all this murdering and theiving keep up, I'll be forced tae move someplace more peaceful — like a lunatic asylum!"

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

..."Well, rediculous or not, I have notified the authorities in town. No one damages or steals my property and gets away with it, Madame. No one!"

Lady Violet gave up trying to reason with her husband. She turned to the man in the corner. "Stop whimpering, sir, and tell me what you know."

The foreman, trembling from head to foot, and casting furtive glances at Lord Cunningham, then at the gun mounted on the wall behind him, faced Lady Violet. "All I know is that Mr. Doddle were found dead, and the slaves livin' in the shack were gone. 'Couse I asked around, but no one saw anythin', nor would they admit it ifn they did. You know how secretive slaves be, always lookin' at ya with them dark eyes, or making funny signs with their hands. Puttin' curses on an honest man, most likely. Why—"

"That's quite enough." Lady Violet held up a hand. "Don't waste my time talking useless babble. If you've nothing helpful to impart, you may go."

The foreman touched his forelock and fled the library.

Lady Violet turned to her husband. His face was still flushed, his wig askew, and he had spilled whiskey on his weskit. "Honestly, Bertie, you are a mess. However, I can see why you are upset. The incompetence of the people employed here is beyond belief. And you really should not have notified the governor. Think, dear. Soon a whole division of guardsmen will descend on Trade Winds, eat us out of six months supplies of food and drink, then depart, having solved nothing."

Albert glared at her. "Violet, if you do not wish me to take down that gun and shoot you, I beg you to leave this library at once. You are sticking that pointed little nose of yours into things that are not your concern."

Lady Violet puffed out her chest and let her steely gaze skewer her husband. "And you, Bertie, are acting like a fool. Now, go and clean yourself up before the governor arrives. No, no, don't protest. You know he will come himself, groveling at your feet, making apologies for the fact that they haven't, as yet, caught or hanged anyone for the crime."

Her husband fumed, sputtered, then stormed from the room. His parting remark being, "I sincerely wish, madame, that you had remained in England!"

[Andrew March]

March was only to grateful to be called away from Captain's presence. He made his way quickly to ship's entryway and looked down to find fellow Scotsman below on dock. Gangplank was lowered back into place and March and Straw made their way across. Without word, Straw continued on along the wharf toward land as first officer approached guest. Gangplank was again removed to be of no service to sailor or landsman.

"Ahoy Captain MaCraige, and how can we be of service to ye this foul night?" March asked bowing low before superior.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter Straw slipped quietly through streets, ducking into shadowed doorways or turning down empty alleyway, avoiding troops blocking his path. In due time Bookstore was found, skirted and backdoor knocked upon. Hand strayed to pocket to ensure safe keeping of papers, signed, witnessed and, with silver medalion enclosed, sealed. Nothing had been dated to give apperance of completion of few days past, prior to sickness forcing Sterling out onto land. Straw had argued with captain over task that he alone could accomplish but orders soon overcame the urge to debate reason. Thrilled to find captain still amongst the living, Straw still found the man to be very much beaten down. If he could give some peace to troubled soul by undoing what he had been so happy to do, then heart rending task could possibly have some redeeming value.

[Cheeky Actress]

Lilly stirred, her hand wandered to her face. The rustling of skirts and bed linen quickly drew the attention of the small black dog who laid content for his new friend to awake. With a soft low whimper the dog looked up at MacGregor as if calling the alarm. It was then MacGregor made his way to the bedside. “You are amongst friends now, Mistress. Captain MacCraige has sent for a doctor. Fear not.”

Lilly’s eyes fluttered open. The dim light of the room made it hard to see. “I am parched.” She whispered, hand reaching out to MacGregor. He quickly poured a goblet of wine for her. “Here, slowly…slowly.” He whispered as she took the goblet to her lips. The little black dog barked, then spun in place, anticipating her acknowledgment of him. Soon her hand fell gently upon its’ head and back. “Yes, Mate.” She whispered as she pushed the goblet away from her lips. “You are a good Mate, indeed.”

“Who found me?” Her voice still weak and soft to hear her above a whisper. “Captain MacCraige, Mistress. He, and of course, Mate here.” She closed her eyes and tried to draw a breath. “Did they catch him…the vile man that did this?” MacGregor shook his head no. “Who did this to you, Mistress?” She swallowed hard trying hard to hold back the tears of anger. “Hutchinson…Lord Lewis Hutchinson.”

[Tess St. Claire]

Tess St. Claire quickly took up her hood and gloves. She began to think about the cries from the street earlier that afternoon. With a murderer running about Port Royal, the idea of her going out tonight may not be such a wise choice. The tavern’s mood suddenly turned from a loud and jovial place to a dark room filled with whispers and suspicious stares.

There where whispers that redcoats were out in full force that evening and as she made her way to the front door of the inn, she suddenly saw several guards enter the tavern. “Damn.” She thought to herself as a redcoat blocked her way. “Aside you.” She said with her defiant nature. “I wish to pass.”

[Dan Reid]

MacCraige acknowledged Mr March and stated, "A right black night indeed an' don' be standin' on no formalities wit' me. I be a sailor tried and true long afore me dear brother met his demise an' left me heir ta the clan. I 'ear ye 'ave had a run o bad luck. Some soldiers told me yer captain be dead. Tis a black black night. I be needin' the service o' yer doctor an' I be needin' it right quick. I know tis much ta ask as yer crew must be mournin' their loss but another life be hangin' in the balance an' I don' be findin' no other saw bones ta answer me call. Miss McKinney, she be knifed in the back by some wicked devil an' lay now on th' very brink o' death itself. Me first mate be wi' her now an' he be skilled at th' healin' but he be no surgeon. I've summoned th' watch but I fear tha' they be havin' their hands full. I be much obliged if'n ye would send fer yer doctor.

MacCraige waited for Mr March's answer as he looked around at the soldiers milling in other parts of the docks.

[Dan Reid]

MacGregor took the glass away and set it upon the nearby chest.

"The cap'n be wantin ta hear that name, I'll warrant ye. I am Ewan MacGregor, first mate of the 'Reiver' and I have been set ta watch ye and insure no further harm come yer way." he watched as she pet the little dog.

"The cap'n be out searchin for the watch and for a doctor. I 'ave patched ye up as best I can an' I believe ye'll live but need ta have a doctor sew ye up. Ye got a right nasty wound, suprised I am ta find ye alive. Ye must be a strong woman." he smiled again and offered her more wine. "only a small drink, mistress."

"There be something I should tell you about the cap'n afore he returns. His appearance might shock ye. He tol' me about havin' dinner wit' ye but I don' believe he was quite honest abou' himself."

After taking another small sip Lilly replied softly, "Yes, he told me he was here in search of the man that killed his brother."

"That be true enough. We are here to find that man. What he didn't tell ye, what he has tried to hide from all till that man be found, is that he be not solely cap'n of the 'Reiver'. He be not only a MacCraige, but is theMacCraige, he be laird of the clan now that his brother be dead. He has put away his disquise ta help ye. He will find satisfaction for ye." MacGregor pulled a blanket up around Lilly's body, pushing the dog aside, only to have it return as soon as the blanket was still.

"Rest now, mistress. All will be well" he said as he took a seat upon a stool facing the door, a pistol upon his lap.

['Bastian Devareaux]

Eldest had returned to depths of rookery with brandy's safe delivery, and it was from bookstore loft that he watched the hornet's stirring of crimson coats. It was with a tinge of idle amusement that Roi Gitan tracked rouge fur rats scurry the maze, the sound of movement an odd replacement to norm street chorus. In right hand balance, the large curvature of goblet gave sacrifice of pungent fruit fermentation and trace of smile gave silent approval to vintage and craft.

Ventures of recent past eve had proven quite kind and Modyford had been most congenial in receipt of midnight gifting. Andre' smile broadened slightly more to private thoughts involving the sway of small empire built and the securities held therein. Ever aware of even subtle change in light or shadow, his attention wavered from private contemplations to the shade of equine form and rider merging into the mouth of back alleyway.

Drapery was drawn to closure and Baro Rom took seating in high back chair, patiently awaiting Dauphin's impending arrival within.

[Ransom]

Fort Carlisle loomed far on our starboard side. Maybe it was because we weren't heading for the open sea, or it was because of the Rakehell's sienna-colored sails and black hull, nearly invisible at night, or even the chaos on shore, but she continued to slip through the dark waters of the bay, heading toward Kingston. All on board kept silent, or spoke in whispers, each one knowing what fate would await us if we were fired upon or boarded. If we weren't blown up, there would be no explaining why a third of the hold was full of French gunpower and arms. If not hanged for pyracy, we'd be hanged as French spies.

Africa's dark form came to stand next to me. When he spoke, his voice was low and deep. "We be needin' all our luck dis time."

"All of ours, and a good deal of Sebastian's, I'm afraid. Let's just hope there is someone in Kingston to help us unload, or by God, this cargo is going overboard. I'm sick of the Rakehell being a floating bomb."

['Bastian Devareaux]

Just past back lane inlet, mount was reined in as rider paused to still whirl of mental agitations. The roll of event with passing four and twenty count of hours was overwhelming to the steady flow of clear cognitive pathways; stagger of process was assured. Dropping from perch to terra firma, Sabastian eyed the loom of Bookstore's rear section in the too near distance.

Focus wandered to the reaches of upper floor, then downward and forward to the archway marking opposite thruway. Deep inhalation was taken as he delved into which of three paths should be chosen. Just ahead and above Sabastian knew Brother awaited his presence. Passage beyond archway, bearing the course of roadway would give destination of Sister and what he knew would was a duty of higher priorities.

Beyond same said archway, but deviating from man made path, would return him to Lover's company and the promise made to fulfill.

These were the times that tried a man's soul, and for the present, a rare thing ocured within the cranial boundaries of one Sabastian Alexandre' Devareaux, Beggar Prince; Clever Thief; Dauphin Gitan; Trickster and Relisher of Life's Banquet...

He found himself in a state of total preplexity.

[Capt. Sterling]

Papers had been turned over to Bookstore occupant with instructions that they must be delivered to Mistress of clan as soon as possible. Straw was guaranteed that all would be seen to and with all due speed. He watched as paper and silver piece within was withdrawn and for a brief second he wished he could take them back. But captain had been adamant about proceeding with annulment and nothing Straw said could convince him otherwise. Now it was done and Straw with tug of forelock, turned and began his walk back to the ship.

[Capt. Sterling]

Reiley gathered gear together hastily. Leaving instructions and laudenum behind for other patient, who remained secluded, locked away in quarters, he made his way from ship to shore and followed after Captain MaCraige.

[Cheeky Actress]

"Rest now, mistress. All will be well" he said as he took a seat upon a stool facing the door, a pistol upon his lap.

Lilly laid quiet drifting in and out of sleep. The very idea of a man guarding the door with pistols drawn for the good of her protection made her smile. There are good men still about. She thought to herself. The little black dog nuzzled close to her side as she slept, as MacGregor wondered if a physician would arrive in time.

['Bastian Devareaux]

Movement from the rear entrance of Bookstore alcove drew Dauphin's attention. Leaving mount's companionship, he wove carefully alley's dim and made note of the other's carriage and gait. Quick calculation deciphered that the one just now passing archway to lane beyond was far from being of Le Cour. Padding quietly on soft sole, he drew closer as weak parchment hued lamp luminated quary's features just enough for identification.

Drawing near, but out of harm's way, Sabastian called to other's hearing in tone and volume like easy breeze stirring the dance made by Will O' Whisps....

A quiet lullaby that did well to freeze seaman in his tracks.

[Capt. Sterling]

Straw turned about and stared into the shadows.

"Well ahoy there Mr. Devareaux. I remember you from the wedding! How are ye sir?"

['Bastian Devareaux]

Caution was an instinct not so easily laid to the wayside and Sabastian was already on edge with all that had evolved recently. Remaining in shadow's comfort, he offered conginiality while observing the other closely.

"Very well, Monsieur and I thank you for asking..." A pace closer was taken, "Is there something that I might be of service to you with?"

[Capt. Sterling]

'Yourself personally like sir?" Straw asked, taken aback by the other man's offer. "Ah nay I think not. Just made a delivery to yonder bookstore. Now, I'll be making my way back to the ship." He doffed cocked hat and gave slight bow. "A good night to you sir," Straw added and continued on his way.

['Bastian Devareaux]

Sabastian advanced again, hovering betwixt low light of lamp and the comfort of darkness. The mearest hint of aggitation was taken in from the other man and again verbose was cast to belay furthering away.

"A delivery, Monsuier? I find that rather interesting....Perhaps you might be so inclined to enlighten me of such strange doings with the King's Men around every corner..."

[Capt. Sterling]

"Enlighten Mr. Devareaux?" Straw said, not the least bit aggitated. He stared blankly at other man, eyes blinking momentarily.

[Ransom]

Like a dark ghost on the water, the Rakehell neared the spot where she had anchored the morning of the hurricane. With all lights doused, she was invisible. Yet, there were no lights, as yet, showing on shore. No signal.

"You think dey come?" Africa asked.

"We're early. They didn't expect us until much later, but I wanted the ship away from the docks."

"Den we sit?"

"Aye, we sit...and wait."

['Bastian Devareaux]

"Enlighten Mr. Devareaux?" Straw said, not the least bit aggitated. He stared blankly at other man, eyes blinking momentarily.

"Oui...." Dauphin replied. "You will forgive mine being bold, Monsieur. But, it strikes me rather odd that one would choose such a night to risk the travers of docks to the far edges of town under the situations at hand. It must have been something of great import to take such risk, non?"

[Capt. Sterling]

"And why sir," Straw continued with broad sweep of arm toward streets and alleys beyond. "Why should I be afeared to walk about? Tis a paper with something heavy betwixt the sheets, that I was asked to deliver. Far be it for me to pry into what it may contain or why it should be turned over at this hour. I be but a simple seaman, sir. I just do as I am told."