The Pirate Hunter's Smarter Brother!

[Ransom]

Everyone on the Rakehell watched the little drama play out between the Scottish brig and the Spaniards. I couldn't understand why they didn't just leave the survivors on the sand spit and let sun and time do the job.

"Waste of good man power," I muttered.

"Like I said, ma'am. MacTavish has a powerful hatred of Spaniards." Colard replied.

"Why?"

Colard shrugged. "Never heard him say. Just that he can't abide their popish ways. Calvinist tae the core, is MacTavish. Calls all Catholics rosary twidlers. Says the Pope can kiss his....weel, he just dinna care for the man."

I turned away from Colard, crossed the deck, and looked to Jacky, who, along with his crew, was also watching the smoke slowly clear away from the smaller boat—what was left of it. Our two ships were very close, so I called over to him. "What's on the schedule next? Best we get to it while our Scottish friend is busy elsewhere. I could protect you from the Spaniard, and even Nate and Red Cat, if need be, but I can't do a bloody thing against the Flodden. With her guns, she'd blow me out of the water."

[Jacky Tar]

I heard Ransom's warnin', an shouted back, "Wot aren't ye tellin' me 'bout the captain o' that ship? Any reason ye believe he might attack my ship?"

I turned t' Stones, "Unless I'm mistaken, the captain o' that brig got in t' a long boat t' chase after those Spaniards. But if he's daft enough t' chase them on foot, wot is t' stop him from comin' after us next?"

I shouted again t' Ransom, "Noted, ye won't hav me back against that brig!"

"Stones, take us in closer fer a chat wit' the crew o' that Brig... Wot did Ransom call it? Aye, the Flodden."

"Dillard, hav the lads man the guns. If the crew o' the Flodden so much as sneezes in our direction, I'll sink her 'fore her captain can return."

[Ransom]

Alarmed that the Commodorre thought, by the tone of his voice, that I would bail out on him again, I shouted, rather miffed, "Hey, Jacky, didn't say I wouldn't hold him off for as long as possible. Colard knows the captain of the Flodden. Says he's the curious type, with no love for Spaniards. Wouldn't put it past him to come sniff us out, once he's done on the sand spit. Doesn't mean we can't parley with the man and see what he's up to."

I glared over at the small sloop with Nate and Red Cat aboard. Then I made an angry gesture at them, "And are they going to be any help, or are they just going to sit on their drunken duffs and watch?"

[Jacky Tar]

"Hold him off! I'm not goin' t' run from him." I swung about, an set my gaze on the other brig. "Sniff us... Wot kind o' mongrel are we dealin' wit?"

The deck hands were securin' the divin' barrel, Jonesy an the lads were aloft prepared t' unfurl the main sail, an finally the anchor was hoisted.

[Ransom]

The first mate of the Pride of Flodden had kept an eye on the other ships, as MacTavish had ordered. When he saw the other brig start to head in their direction, he quickly ordered one of the deck hands to take a musket and fire a warning shot to alert the captain.

*********

MacTavish, his attention bent on the stranded Spaniards, heard the shot. "Bluidy hell, what now?"

One of the rowers pointed to the other brig. "She upped anchor awful quick. Musta cut their lines."

As much as he craved to spit a few Spaniards, MacTavish wasn't stupid enough to risk his own ship. "Row us back, ye ninnies. I dinna like the look of that brig. If the schooner follows, we're in for a fight."

The rower muttered, "Two against one, captain? Why not jes have a talk with um?"

MacTavish thought about it. No doubt he liked a good battle, but knew, even with his bigger guns, he couldn't out fight two ships, if they chose to attack him. "Weel, if ye'd row like men instead of a bunch of lily-livered boys, we cuid get back te the Flodden and run up a parley flag. Canna hurt tae sus out what they be doing way out here."

To a man the rowers pulled, literally, for their lives.

[Tomas Guerrero]

Tomas sat up quickly when he heard the ominous <thud> once again. The longboat sent from their attackers quickly spun about on her stern and headed back to her ship.

"Odd," Tomas said aloud. He could now see four ships, one of which to be his own, now floating in some sort of strange parade, near each other but still keeping their distance.

"Odd indeed, Señor Guerrero," Phonse replied. They both stood and walked back into the shallows to watch.

[Jacky Tar]

We heard a loud crack, wot I believed t' be a rifle shot, an watched the longboats hastily change course t' return t' the other brig.

"At least the captain o' the Flodden, has sense enough t' return t' his vessel, if alerted." I muttered, an instructed Stones t' hold our present course.

Smithe asked if we should run up a flag o' truce, or at least run out some colors? "Nay, lets see their colors first," I replied. "After all, we aren't the ones attackin' ships o' the Spanish crown."

[Ransom]

I watched with exasperation has Jacky chopped anchor lines and headed off toward the Flodden. Beside me, I heard Colard suck in a breath.

"Now, why'd he do that, Ma'am?" he said.

"Because he's a MAN, that's why. Can't wait to sail off and get himself in trouble. Can't wait ten bloody minutes to see if the Scots would just leave us alone. Oh no. The first thing on the Commador's mind is to go pick a fight. And now he's dragged us into it."

Turning to the waiting crew, I shouted, "Well, go follow the idiot. Can't leave him to face those guns by himself. Although, he deserves a big hole in the side of the Relentless for his stupidity."

As the Rakehell tacked into the wind, I noticed Ludovico shake his head and mutter something that sounded like "Merda."

Yes, I thought, this whole situation could turn into a big crock of merda.

[Smithe]

"I never seen Mister Tar go lookin' fer a fight, " I mumble t' Dillard. "He must expect them t' run up a flag o' truce."

Mister Dillard didn't think that the truce would be forth comin', and he remarked that Flodden was a threat t' our salvagin' operations.

"Aye, no tellin' which way the wind may blow next. I suppose the captain just wants t' make sure that yon ship is only lookin' t' sink Spanish vessels." I muttered, "Still, it'd be a fine thing, if'n they were sinkin' em somewhere else!"

[Ransom]

Tavish MacTavish scrambled up the side of the Flodden, bellowing as he went. "Run up a parley flag, ye dogs. And man them guns, but dinna load them yet."

The first mate, who was still in the crow's nest keeping an eye on the other ships, called down, "Captn, the schooner is makin' a move now. No guns loaded though."

MacTavish stood next to the helm, a glass to his eye. "Yon brig has her guns primed, but the schooner doesna yet." He turned to the coxswain, a young man with a runny nose, and ratty beard. "What do ye ken they be sae touchy aboot, eh? Makes a man curious as a cat."

The coxswain looked skyward as the parley flag reached the top of the missen mast. "Ye think they'll honor it, sir?"

"Course they'll honor it, ye lout. It's the bluidy code." MacTavish gave his coxswain an evil grin. "Doesna mean we hae tae honor it, when it doesna suit our purpose."

[Jacky Tar]

The Flodden had raised a flag, t' which I remarked, "So, the dance begins!"

"Stones, bring us in position across their bow, that's where we'll drop anchor." I smiled, "They want t' talk, we'll talk."

Edited April 1, 2009 by Jacky Tar

[Ransom]

MacTavish, still erked that he'd missed his chance to shoot a Spaniard, watched the other brig come to anchor just off the Flodden's bow. "Doesna want us flying off," he muttered, then walked to the rail and hailed the other ship, his voice deep, raspy, and heavily accented.

"I'd like tae ken why ye hae all ye'r guns primed, when we havena done anything tae provoke such a fine show a temper? Mae business is with yon Spaniards." MacTavish gestured toward the spit of sand the Spaniards were still stranded on. "And I've nae need o' assistance, if that's what brought ye scootin' over here in such a tizzy."

[Black Nate]

Nate an Red Cat watched all th goin's on tween the brigs and the schooner. Nate looked at them with the spyglass and saw the animated gesticulations of the captain of the Flodden, the commodore and the captain of the Rakehell. Lowering the glass a devious grin slowly spread across his face. "Aye. . . . Aye Father, it would be too cruel a fate." Nate turned to the Cat who wore a fitting look of curiosity on her face. Nate turned and put a hand on her shoulder, leaned in and whispered into her ear. Cat almost puled away, but the more Nate whispered into her ear, the more she listened until a slight grin tugged at her mouth. Nate leaned back and looked her in the eyes. "Aye?" Cat pursed her lips a little and half closed one eye, chuckled and nodded. "Aye Nate, aye." Nate nodded sharply and his wild grin appeared. Soon they had the sloop running a slow course in a wide arc, around the spit of land the spaniards were stranded on.

[Tomas Guerrero]

Tomas and Phonse stood in the shallows watching the dance of the ship that fired upon them and the other retrieving some goods from the bottom. The second ship, now just off to the southeast, had bared her guns but remained to leeward of the pair. Tomas walked back to shore and stood under the sparse shade of a few palms. Another ship had come into view, but looked less interested in the goings-on.

"Señor Guerrero, ees tha not your sheep?" Phonse asked and pointing to the small sloop now running downwind and counter to the other three.

"Si, Si Phonse. It is." Tomas replied. He held his hand to his forehead to shade out the glaring sunlight. "And only two aboard."

"¿Adónde?" Phonse asked as he rubbed his belly.

"I don't know, Phonse. Try to rouse Roberto."

"Si Señor Guerrero." Phonse waddled back to Roberto lying on the sand still unaware.

Tomas Guerrero stood on the small spit of land and leaned against the palm waiting for someone or something to save him.

[Ransom]

I had the crew keep the Rakehell running in a wide circle around the two ships. Nothing was happening. The Scot appeared to be willing to talk, but so far Jacky had made no reply. I hoped they'd get this little plaver over with soon, or myself and my crew were going to get dizzy from the constant circling.

[Tomas Guerrero]

"Why are they just surrounding us Tomas?" Phonse asked.

"Yo no se'," Tomas replied slowly, "to better find a place to beach my boat?"

[Black Nate]

Nate n Cat sailed the little sloop to the far side of the wee atoll and put her nose in the wind once they got the ship as close to the beach as they could without running aground. Nate broke out the sweeps and set them in place if they needed to use them. Nat n Cat now waited to see if them spaniards were curious enough ta come see wot they was all about. "Wall Cat, they be perty dr- ah, they be soaked through, can't have a lick o dry powder amongst em an I would hope they'll jus be happy ta have their skins saved from th Flodden." Cat fingered her pistol an bobbed her head before turnin her sights toward the beach. All Nate n Cat could do was wait ta see.

Edited April 15, 2009 by Black Nate

[Jacky Tar]

Stones looked at me, an meekly asked, "Will ye be answerin' the Flodden's captain, sir?"

I was busy watchin' Red CAt, an Nate, an I replied, "Well that would depend on whether or not he opens fire on those two!"

Stones, turned in time t' watch the pair, beach the sloop. "Lord help us," he muttered.

"Aye, while ye can't count on them t' do the right thing, ye can always count on 'em t' do somethin' else." I said wit' a grimace.

Edited April 15, 2009 by Jacky Tar

[Tomas Guerrero]

Tomas stepped out from the shade and into the bright sunlight. He watched as his boat beached itself gently on the spit of sand.

"So nice of you to rescue us in MY boat," Tomas called.

Phonse had woken Roberto and propped him on his shoulder, the pair now walking towards Tomas.

[Black Nate]

Nate grinned and looked ta Red Cat and back ta the Spaniard and gave a short laugh. "Oh, Ya mean ta say this Was yer boat? Fine ship she be. . . . Now if ye wanna survive this day, wade on out quick like!" The Spaniard who did the talkin gave Nate a look but hurried the other men with him into the water and waded out to the sloop. Red Cat stood back and kept a hand on her pistol while Nate helped em aboard. Once they was on deck, Nate prodded em ta man th sweeps ta get the sloop back in deeper water as he reset th sails. in no time they were tight hauled and headin' away from the other ships. "Welcome aboard Our ship Seniors. . . . Have a sit down on th hatch there an keep yer hands in yer lap. Father tells me yer not ta be left ta th likes o those aboard th Flodden there. Lucky fer you I was about. Look like ye might need a drink, aye?" Nate an Red Cat looked at their 'guests' and awaited a reply, Nate wit his wild grin keepin an eye open ta see wot th other ships might be doin, hopin they wasn't gonna give chase ta th swift little sloop.

Edited April 16, 2009 by Black Nate

[Ransom]

Out of the corner of his eye, MacTavish saw the sloop come in close to the sand spit, and take the Spaniards on board. "Bluidy hell, I'll not put up with the likes o' that!" But with two ships pinning him down, he could either leave, or fire on the brig at anchor and hope the schooner left him alone. He doubted that would happen, as the schooner had been circling the ships like a jackal, waiting for a reason to rush in and grab him by the jugular.

"Maybe it's best we cut our losses and continue on to New Orleans, suh," his first mate muttered.

"Tuck tail and run like a cur!" MacTavish bellowed. "Not till I've had a wee talk with yon captain. They're here for a reason, and I'll bluidy well find out what it is afore I leave. Now, keep an eye on that sloop and mark which way she sails."

[Tomas Guerrero]

'Father' cried the man several times. Esta loco, was all that Tomas could imagine. HIS boat, taken from HIM. Damn, now he was indebted.

"Your plan Señor?" asked Tomas. Phonse pulled as best he could to relieve them of the devilish spit. Tomas forced Roberto into his spot. The 'Captain' looked sideways at Tomas. He thrust his hand towards the man. "Tomas Guerrero," he introduced himself.

[Black Nate]

Nate gave the man who called himself Tomas a half grin and raised eyebrows, looked at Red Cat a second then grabbed hold o the man's wrist and pumped it up n down. "Nate Durant. . . . That be Red Cat. . . ." Nate nodded towards the Cat as he said her name before lettin go o the mans wrist. "So Senor Guerrero, wot brings ye ta this barren spot in th middle o th seas? We're just ta try n get this here boat back. Please, take some ease an sit! Yer men too! We's sailin fine an true an soon ta be headed back ta our other ships. There be some fine vittles aboard if ye care ta imbibe, or take a turn at th scuttlebuckett, water be fresh too." Nate smiled kindly at Tomas an his weary men, but didn't let his guard down. Father told him there was naught ta faer from these men, but Nate decided not ta take a chance just yet.

[Tomas Guerrero]

Tomas gritted his teeth.

He KNEW the vittles were fresh.

He KNEW the water was fresh.

HE HAD JUST STOCKED THE DAMN BOAT.

"Gracias," was all he could muster. He meant more, to be grateful, but under the circumstances, it was degrading to be offered his own provisions.

[Black Nate]

Nate saw th look on Tomas' face and also heard The Almighty chastize him. "My pologies Senor Guerrero, o corse ye know wot be aboard. Please, send one o yer men b low an bring up some vittles ta comfort yer bellies. Mind ye, we gots alla th weapons secured, understand? Keep where I can sees ya through the gratings, aye? Oh, yer other men speak english?" Nate tried to be a good host, tried to make Tomas and his men understand that they weren't in danger as long as they didn't try anything shifty. "An I have ta ask as it's got me wonderin, honestly, wot were ya doin out here in that wreck o a ship fore twas blowed to the four winds?"