Port Royal, Jamaica

[Ransom]

Again Marcus turned focus to decks above as lashings where released and wooden caboose pulled for shore. This night's work was nearing end, but until word was given, he would hold position and payment still hung heavy and concealed within adornment's keeping.....

I had read the note handed to me and nodded. With quick efficiency, a few small boats approched the Rakehell. In silence the hold was quickly unloaded. Though disappointed that Sebastian was not among the men taking possesion of the powder and arms, I understood. In all honesty, I was grateful to have the hold empty, no matter who Sebastian had appointed to perform the task. I knew the crew were also relieved. It wanted only the receipt of payment for the transaction to be complete.

I addressed the man waiting, who seemed to be judging me by some private standard of his own. "You have your cargo, sir. Our agreement has been fullfilled. It is time you made good on your side of the bargain, and paid us for such."

[Ransom]

When she uncovered her ears again it was only to hear Ioan’s low laughter. The Welshman grinned mockingly as he sauntered over to where she sat. He was obviously enjoying her hung-over state quite a bit. The sour taste in her mouth spread to her expression the longer he laughed. A hand reached out, gripping the wide railing in order to pull herself unsteadily to her feet. Swaying excessively with each rock of the ship Jane glowered at him.

“Ye always so genteel ta tha lady captain o yers? Tis no wonder she ‘ad ye whipped.”

The laugter died on his lips at the remark. His first inclination was to strike out at her, but he reined himself in. No point in causing a ruckus and getting himself slammed into the brig. But the barb had struck home, no matter how much he chose to think otherwise.

"Wouldn't be talking too much about whipping, missy, what with that great ugly bruise on your face. Seems neither one of us is too welcome back aboard our previous vessels. As for the captain of the Rakehell, well, she and I have a bit of unfinished business to take care of. No one puts marks on my back without paying a price. I just haven't decided what that price is going to be. So, once you're done being a hazzard on deck, maybe you'll think twice before you try and cut me low again...Missy."

He sauntered away, as if he had no care in the world, when within, he was seething.

['Bastian Devareaux]

I had read the note handed to me and nodded. With quick efficiency, a few small boats approched the Rakehell. In silence the hold was quickly unloaded. Though disappointed that Sebastian was not among the men taking possesion of the powder and arms, I understood. In all honesty, I was grateful to have the hold empty, no matter who Sebastian had appointed to perform the task. I knew the crew were also relieved. It wanted only the receipt of payment for the transaction to be complete.

I addressed the man waiting, who seemed to be judging me by some private standard of his own. "You have your cargo, sir. Our agreement has been fullfilled. It is time you made good on your side of the bargain, and paid us for such."

A hint of smile tickled Elliot's expression at the formality of her statements. Nothing was lost on his hearing, nor deciphering; not the educated manner; not the assertive strength...not the measure of command. Glance was slyed to beach head as crate was secured then lifted from craft encompassment; twirlling minutely as it was heaved to hover midair.

With a smallish mock gesture of bow, the Messenger spoke softly to the sihlouette above, "Then permission to board be the next order of the day...or night, as it were..."

[Ransom]

His manner was polite, but there was some hint...some underlying assesment still going on. I smiled in return. "Permission granted. Are you in need of assistance, for I feel sure that the payment for such a fine cargo would be a heavy burden, and might impede your safety. It has been a long night, and all are weary. I offer you a glass of brandy, to seal our bargain, and toast a fine night's business."

['Bastian Devareaux]

Marcus glanced once more to the shoreline and progress made before answering, "Tis a kind thing your offer of aid, but have no worries of meself an' I will be one to fare well enough...."

The small craft was brought near larger vessel's slope of side, with a deceptive agility, Elliot gained wooden plane once above. He remained at rail break, surveying the surround briefly, "Yer offer of brandy seems a fine notion to me thinkings. If ye be so kind as to be leadin', then I shall follow and fini this night's workings."

[Ransom]

With a grin, I showed the man to my cabin. "I thought the offer of brandy might coax you on board." I poured two glasses, and, with a wink, handed one to him. "It's fine stuff, but don't be asking where it came from."

I found myself wanting to impress this man, only because I knew he would report back to Sebastian how the night's events had gone. I wanted that report to be a good one. Without thought, I reached into my pocket and touched the key he had given me. A good luck charm, indeed. I raised my glass and toasted my guest, and the conclusion of our agreement. "Godspeed, to you and yours."

['Bastian Devareaux]

The Captain's sly of spirit origins conjured an amused cast over Elliot's broad face and toast was returned. Sampling proved elixr's worth and nod of approval. Simple chalice was set aside and quick search of frock's inner realms brought forth two rough textured sacks of canvas wrought. Tossed to near table with coin ring, the landing thud justified what size did not. Glass was emptied and Messenger made to leave, but paused at cabin door for acceptence of intention.

"Is there anythin' else ye may wish afore I rejoin my comp'ny ashore?"

[CrazyCholeBlack]

He sauntered away, as if he had no care in the world, when within, he was seething.

It was Jane’s turn to laugh this time, a sharp high pitched sound that resounded across the bustling ship. Ioan had tried to hide it but there was a spark of agitation under that cool façade that Jane could almost see. She wouldn’t admit it but she rather enjoyed irritating the man. He was always so arrogant. It couldn’t hurt to take him down a peg or two, especially with Captain Striker acting as an invisible shield.

A hand strayed to her bruised cheek; it wasn’t the worst she’d ever taken but that knowledge didn’t make the injury hurt less. The constant gusts of wind had begun to bite through the thin layer of Jane’s shirt. Combined with the lingering fever she began to shiver. With a tired sigh she pushed away from the edge, staggering back across the deck to the captain’s cabin and much needed rest.

[Dan Reid]

Hamish took a knee next to the bed where Lilly lay and took her hand in his own, "Glad I am ta see ye back amoung the livin'" he said and gently raised her hand to his lips. "I hope this rascal o' a dog is keepin' ye good company."

A frown clouded his wind burned face, " I be findin' the man what did this to ye. He be seein' th' point o' me blade afore tis all said and done." MacCraige promised his friend.

[Ransom]

The Captain's sly of spirit origins conjured an amused cast over Elliot's broad face and toast was returned. Sampling proved elixr's worth and nod of approval. Simple chalice was set aside and quick search of frock's inner realms brought forth two rough textured sacks of canvas wrought. Tossed to near table with coin ring, the landing thud justified what size did not. Glass was emptied and Messenger made to leave, but paused at cabin door for acceptence of intention.

"Is there anythin' else ye may wish afore I rejoin my comp'ny ashore?"

"No, there is no further want."

I debated whether to send a message to Sebastian through this man, but decided against it. Our affairs I wished to keep as private as was possible. Besides, I felt sure the evening's proceedings would be reported in great detail to someone. I just wasn't sure that someone would be Sebastian. I would leave it for him to decide how much of our relationship he would admit to his clansmen. As to said clansmen, they had been inspecting me all night as if I were some horse they might buy. With a slight chuckle, I wondered if I had measured up to whatever standards I had been judged against.

With a smile, I addressed the departing man. "This has been a good night's work. May hap, at some future date, the Rakehell can be of further service to your clan."

[Cheeky Actress]

" I be findin' the man what did this to ye.  He be seein' th' point o' me blade afore tis all said and done." MacCraige promised his friend.

Lilly looked up at Hamish's sun kissed face. "He said that he owned a plantation here. Perhaps a visit to the docks will enlighten you upon his where abouts."

She turned her head slightly to look at little Mate. The little black dog quickly nuzzled his nose under her hand as he tried to encourage her to pet him. "Your Mate has been good company, Captain. I cannot thank you enough for saving me from such a horrid fate."

As she pet the little black dog again, she looked over at the good doctor. "Reiley? What news of Captain Sterling?" She said with a tone of concern.

[Capt. Sterling]

"Tis nigh on six bells and all ye bring me to break my fast is a cup of tea and one hard boilded egg?" Sterling groused as Symms finally made his way into the captain's quarters. Sterling had finally busied himself attending to papers that had long gone unlooked at since arrival in Port town.

"But Sir?!? Ye know I be a light eater," the old steward responded. "And if I were to come in here laden with a heavy tray, the others would surely notice!

Sterling stared down at a sparce meal, not knowing who to strangle first, Steward or Doctor for plan that continued on in haphazzard fashion. He grumbled, pulling seat back into desk. Taking egg firmly and smashing it all too hard on desk top, he snarled, "Bring me something fit to eat, if ye have to stuff it in yer pockets. And lay out some clothing. The old brown trousers and waistcoat will do. I'm going out as soon as the sun goes down."

"But...." Symms' speech froze as evil glance shot back at him over captain's shoulder.

"And see that the gangplank is lowered. I do not intend to wait for it to be so... You can sit in this bloody cabin for me all night if ye think my going out will, by any means, seem suspicious!"

[CrazyCholeBlack]

“Pienso que el capitán ha perdido su mente. Pegamento y cañones por qué?” the younger of the two Spaniards muttered. They had wandered through Port Royal for most of the morning, sent on a wild chase to collect their Capitan’s much needed supplies. As the noon hour had approached the men found themselves at a dim table near the back of The Royal Grace.

“Es el capitán Striker que lo ha hecho este camino” The other mused, swirling the thick ale in his mug. He sneered at the concoction, wishing it were a glass of Spanish wine instead. How the English not only drank the swill, but enjoyed it was beyond his comprehension.

“Si no para El Danes estaríamos de vuelta en España ahora mismo” The younger was obviously more annoyed than his companion. His hatred of the English, and now the Danish was barely contained behind the veil of military discipline. The short knife in his hand stabbed relentlessly at the chunks of beef on his plate. He could almost imagine they were La Maligna’s crew, impaled on the sharp tip of his blade. The image brought a haunting smile to his tanned face.

“Más rápido terminamos este, más pronto seremos de casa.” The philosopher sipped at his drink finally, dark eyes watching his cohort eat. He’d seen the younger man in battle once, the manor with which he dissected his meal frighteningly similar. Skewer of meat slipped between glistening white teeth as the youth considered the comment.

“Más rapido matamos a aquel capitán maldito, mas major.” He replied with a grin.

[Nelly Greene]

Sarah Elizabeth Greene awakened later than usual. Lithe form rolled onto back, already uncomfortable from the afternoon’s heat. Delicate chemise clung to fine skin as she yawned. Last night’s tumble with a young captain was all she could manage with all the redcoats milling about and scaring away any potential new acquisitions. She smiled to herself as she gently pulled damp linen from her body and sat up.

Nelly, as she preferred to be called, had arrived in Jamaica three months ago. Since fleeing London, her bawdy house Mistress, and her last lover, who had unwittingly provided enough coin to set her up comfortably in a small house in Port Royal, she had managed to snare several well to do Jamaican merchants and two plantation owners with her charms. They kept her well enough to keep up appearances, but she was always on the prowl for more “income.”

“Sally,” she called sweetly to her young maid. “Come along. I am awake and should see to my toilet. And the bed linens will need changing. Hurry now, the shops will soon be closing their doors and their owners will be out and about and I must make ready.” With a provocative stretch she withdrew from the well worked bed and made her way to the closest window. The streets were once again busy. Hopefully tonight the soldiers and their poor but often captivating officers would not be the only ones out when the sun retired and she set out to business as usual.

[Ransom]

Mr. Spindlethorpe lurked behind his counter, watching the Spaniards. Spaniards! In his inn! He couldn't imagine more nerve-wracking situation. It was obvious the men disliked the drink and the food, even though it was the best he had on offer that evening. The sneering looks he'd been given hadn't helped. Even his serving woman, usually so jovial and friendly to the inhabitants of the common room, had dropped a tray, she was so on edge. No, it wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all.

Wringing his hands, he fervently hoped that a company of the governor's guardsmen would come in for a drink. As if he could conjure them out of thin air, Mr. Spindlethorpe kept looking at the door to the street. "Naturally," he muttered, "a guardsman is never around when you need one."

['Bastian Devareaux]

"Is there anythin' else ye may wish afore I rejoin my comp'ny ashore?"

"No, there is no further want."

I debated whether to send a message to Sebastian through this man, but decided against it. Our affairs I wished to keep as private as was possible. Besides, I felt sure the evening's proceedings would be reported in great detail to someone. I just wasn't sure that someone would be Sebastian. I would leave it for him to decide how much of our relationship he would admit to his clansmen. As to said clansmen, they had been inspecting me all night as if I were some horse they might buy. With a slight chuckle, I wondered if I had measured up to whatever standards I had been judged against.

With a smile, I addressed the departing man. "This has been a good night's work. May hap, at some future date, the Rakehell can be of further service to your clan."

Ransom's usage of "clan" clattered about his thinking for a brief and he turned to eye her amusedly, but stifled any explination of mirth playing calculating eyes.

"Tis a generous offer, Captain...Bu' no' one tha' I can comment on..." Large hand travelled to door latch local, and sidestep taken to allow door's journy of iron hinge rein. "A good night to ye then an' a word of appreciation for libation. I will see meself above an' away."

Another slyed glance was proffered, a nod...Then Messenger departed into the comfort of embracing night. Small craft was rejoined, sweeps taken from rest and laid to careful dip of ink hued waters. In sheltering encompassment of palms, mount and silent companion were met; whisper of undergrowth the only evidence to anything occuring at all.

And then there were none...

[Aurore Devareaux]

She had managed brave face to those present; had further managed non affected carriage as home was entered and stairway ventured upwards. As corridor was traversed, focus was kept forward; no acknowledgement given to first chamber passing. Was this not the place where ghosts dwelled and held court; much as the chamber at far end that used to be that of her own possession? Neither would be given thought, neither the validity of existence nor power of stirring...Said chambers would be ignored.

Chosen refuge was taken in closest Sibling's quarters and comfort taken in the scents that gave designation of true owner. Grand bed had been taken and nestled deeply into; the flow of tears wetting treasured damask. No tallow was given life, the darkness was safety...The darkness a barrier of fortitude. Knees drawn close, lithe formed into small protective render as the emptiness gained full impact. Deaf ears offered no hearing to the soft step of Guardian's proximity beyond portal's stance. Gave no focus to its' hesitant open and closure sometime later as chamber's true ruler arrived home at last.

He said nary a word, but approached quietly with slight hesitation and darkness did well to conceal heavy concern decorating lupine visage. Boots were given dismissal and thick ticking mounted with effort of little disturbance.

And history repeated itself, as history has been known to do. Ritual of comfort in guise of Dauphin gathering Dauphine close as tears blotched linen cloth and arms encircled gently. Still no words dared the heavy still, for such would seem sacrilege to present and past.

Nevertheless, within the byways of mental windings, there existed a hushed purvey of philosophy so well given as mantra to Beggar Prince and its' claim would not be denied; nor its demand ignored in claims.

The Past is dead; the Future an uncertaintyand All that can truly be counted upon, is the Now....

[Capt. Sterling]

Symms was cast out of quarters after requested clothing was produced. Sterling dressed quickly and returned to papers. When better meal was not forth coming, decanter of port was flung against far wall. Surely noise was noticed but nothing was made of it. He made his way to stern windows and glanced out carefully, then he paced away. Five minutes later he returned, then five minutes after that as well, peering at sun and disgruntled to find it had not progressed downward in travels as quickly as he had hoped. Pacing commenced again and would not diminish for another hour. With discontented groan, Sterling crawled back into bed and tried to sleep the hours away. Instead he was plagued by memories of wife which soon turned to bitter thoughts. Rolling over yet again, trying to find some peace and comfort, shattered decanter was spied and need for a drink soon added to misery.

[Young Mr. Davis]

However as his eyes darted across the room in search of a sign of his dear Bess, they suddenly became transfixed on the hideous man who was standing before him.

The man who was now impaled upon young Davis's blade.

"You'll pay for that laddie!" bellowed the outlaw, as he threw young Davis to the ground and staggered from the house. But as Davis quickly regained his footing, he was met by the warm embrace he feared was lost.

[Capt. Sterling]

As sun slipped below earth’s edge, Sterling forced himself to remain yet another hour locked away. Finally, coat, wig and small sword were left behind, heavy leaded walking stick was chosen and grim cocked hat, that had seen far better days was placed upon crown of loose blond hair instead of great gray beaver. He moved to cabin door, turned the key and set it slightly ajar. Peeking outward, he saw that things were finally proceeding along as he would like. Old Steward would be rewarded at a later time. The smallest of watches had been set, only men, both March and Sterling knew to be fiercely loyal and better still, knew how to hold their tongues. He quickly exited quarters, only to have path that lay to taverns beyond barred by first officer.

Stern whisper of “stand aside” was given and countered.

“John, someone will recognize ye. Four days growth upon yer lower face and yer own hair cannot hide ye well enough. Ye will be caught,” March said beginning argument.

“That makes no difference now. Your good intentions have run aground most foully. I have nothing left to lose. Now hold yer tongue and stand aside!”

Unwillingly passage was cleared and Sterling hastened to gangway and freedom.

Symms came along March’s side as both made way to ship’s railing.

“Be all right he will?” the steward whispered. March sighed.

“Only if God truly watches over young children and fools.”

Closest taverns were inspected and abandoned. Too many of his own crew had been permitted ashore. Sterling continued on, keeping close to buildings, moving from one shadow to the next. As he neared far end of port, and glanced in window he finally found one he believed he could be comfortable in and made for the door. As he approached, inner light broke the dimness of night as entrance opened and one man made to exit. Alarm sounded deep within and Sterling turned about moving toward building’s side alley. Inky blackness prevailed there and now, nearly blind, toe making contact with scattered wooden boards, Sterling stumbled, catching himself upon hands and knees.

“Here now!” came light Irish accent. “Let me lend ye a hand. Had a few too many meself.”

Sterling cast backward glance from awkward position in which he found himself. As sights fixed on Devon Burke he froze. But so did Irishman.

“Bloody hell,” Sterling muttered as he waited for reaction from Irish Clown but the one he received was not what he expected.

As Burke’s bleary eyes widened a hundredfold, he took a step back.

“Holy Mary mother of God,” Burke stammered, hands coming quickly up as if to hold Sterling at bay. “Tis you! Ye’ve come back!”

Sterling could only frown at latest attempt of joke. As he did, Irish Clown began frantic babbling.

“Ye be back. Tell me ye have not come fer me? For God’s sake, man, I only poked fun at ye. I meant no harm of it. Surely now ye know that well enough!”

Eyes narrowing at other’s odd behaviour, Sterling slowly stood to his feet.

“Stay back!” Burke warned, crossing himself several times. “Have mercy on a poor fool. Be gone, back to where ye came from. Sorry I am for what I done ye!”

The joke was now on Devon Burke and it was all Sterling could do to keep himself from laughing. Forcing himself to squash the desire to shout “boo” and watch spooked man soil himself, he decided it best to move on to next tavern. He stepped back into shadows behind.

“DAMNATION!” instead was loudly yelled as ground beneath Sterling suddenly vanished and he began to fall.

The effect of Irishman’s shriek of terror as he turned to flee, was unfortunately lost upon Sterling as back came in hard contact with dirt and air was knocked from lungs.

[Bess Hagarty]

“Mister Davis!” Said Bess in amazement as watched the wretched man flee. There stood Mister Davis, bewildered and stunned, and showing only signs of his deed upon his hands and coat.

It was then Mister Davis finally heard the sweet voice of Bess crying out in surprise. Bess wrapped her arms about him tightly, as if she would never let go of him. “How? When did you …”

It was Abbi’s voice to quickly alarm the young couple as they witnessed the two other men fleeing from the house. “Just don’t stand there, Boy!” She cried picking up a large petal. “We best be after them!”

Bess suddenly felt a pang of horror thinking that she would loose him to such unfair numbers. “I will not let you leave without me!” She muttered. It was then the three of them quickly took to the task of chase!

[Ransom]

...Another slyed glance was proffered, a nod...Then Messenger departed into the comfort of embracing night. Small craft was rejoined, sweeps taken from rest and laid to careful dip of ink hued waters. In sheltering encompassment of palms, mount and silent companion were met; whisper of undergrowth the only evidence to anything occuring at all.

And then there were none...

With a sigh of relief that the job was finally done, I locked the money away and went up on deck. The smugglers vanished, melting into the darkness on shore.

Africa came to stand next to me. "Day good at their work. Quick."

"Yes, and we've finally got enough coin to provision the ship properly. Let's get back to Port Royal — same way we left her, casual, as if we've no care in the world."

"Den what?"

"Then, my nosey friend, we look for one, maybe two, new crewman."

"Den we go?"

I thought suddenly of Sebastian. "Then we decide," I prevaricated.

[Tess St. Claire]

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

The two guards said nothing as they eyed her up and down. One of them lent over to the other and whispered softly. “Be thee deaf?” She said sternly, becoming angrier by each passing moment. “I wish to pass. My cousin expects me within the hour.”

Again, the two guards looked her over. Finally, one spoke out of turn. “Cousin?” He said with a laughing tone. “Beg pardon, Mistress, should we understand that your ‘cousin’ is one of wealth and position here in Port Royal?” “What business matters I have here in Port Royal are my own. Now let me pass!” It was then the two guards held their ground. One held up his rifle and the other pressed her back into the tavern.

“I refuse to be treated as such!” She said stamping her foot. The taller one stepped forward. “The whole city is under watch, Mistress. It would be better to stay here tonight than travel out there.” With a huff, she pushed passed the two red coat guards and continued to walk down the street. “I will take my chances!” She said shouting back at them.

Now that she had secured herself passed the guards, she continued to the stables to secure a coach. “I must get to Hutchinson’s Plantation tonight. Do you hear me?” She said shouting at the little man tending to an old nag and his dog. “I shall pay you well.” The old man sniffed and raised his eyebrow. “Let’s see the money first.” She quickly pulled several coins from her pocket. “There, happy?” She said looking disgruntled at the old sod. With a nod the old man began to set the tack for the horse. “Quickly you old fool! make haste!”

[Nelly Greene]

“Hello?” Soft voice called from the edge above.

Sterling opened his eyes quickly. He rolled over onto knees once again, coughing as his breath returned painfully.

"Hello? Are you all right?" the voice called again. Sterling looked upward toward sound. The dark outline of a slender woman appeared overhead. "I dare say, you have taken a nasty tumble into Mr. Spindlethorpe's new cellar. Someone has managed to dislodge the planking that was covering the hole. Perhaps I can assist you?"

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

Late in the afternoon a courier came from Port Royal. He handed a letter to Lord Cunningham, and with a salute, departed. Lady Violet followed her husbnad into his library, where he opened the missive, read it, then let out a,"Humph."

"According to this, a witness had come forward and identified the man who shot Mr. Doddle."

"Well, that should make you happy, dear. Who was the villain?" Lady Violet settled herself into a cushioned chair, and Suger jumped into her ample lap.

"You won't believe it." Lord Cunninham perused the letter again, as if he himself had a hard time believing what was written there." What possible reason could the man have had?"

"Who, dear?" Lady Violet said with a touch of impatience.

"Why, the authorities say that a Captain John Sterling did the deed. Is that not the same man you encounted on the docks the day of your arrival? Lord Sterling's by-blow?"

Lady Violet sniffed. "Doesn't surprise me in the least. As if his reckless behavior on that occation were not proof enough, I observed that due to some previous escapade, he has lost an eye. Mr. Doddle probably made some ill-advised remark to the man, and this Captain Sterling — and I still have misgivings as to the validity of that title — took a dislike to it, and shot him. I can not say that I am sorry Mr. Doddle is dead, for as I told you, I never like the man nor his methods. However, that does not mean that this John Sterling should not be brought to justice."

"He has been brought to justice, of a sort. He's dead as well. According to this letter, his body is being shipped back to England."

Lady Violet patted Sugar's small head. "Well, there's an end to it, then. Shall I order supper?"