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The Pirate Hunter's Smarter Brother!


Inigo Montoya

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Silkie could be found at this late hour sleeping rather contentedly aft in the waist sprawled out against the rail, the familiar haversack containing her hide wrapped protectively in her arms tucked beneath her head ...a trail of drool running from the corner of her mouth as she snored not so lightly. She never had learned to sleep well separate from the sea for very long before feeling claustrophobic so more times than not she could be found sleeping in some corner of the waist rather than below deck. The noises from the crew crept in and out of her dreaming but she slept through much of it.

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Red Cat had refused t' budge. Roberts went from cajoiln t' grumblin an stopped jus short of orders which would only have served t' ignite her all over agin. Eventually he left an grumbled off t' his own berth afore his mood turned as well. He knew there were no point in arguin when she was in a state. Cat left shortly after slammin th cabin door deliberately, jus hopin it would bug someone. She headed up on deck and aft towards th lanterns. Thar she stood lookin out int' the moonlit waves. There was summat about th' ocean wot calmed a person..even a pirate..

Oh it could swing yer mood many ways..but fer now she just studied th' shapes as the swells rose an fell an breathed th night air.

Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help....

Her reputation was her livelihood.

I'm a pirate, love. By nature and by choice!

My inner voice sometimes has an accent!

My wont? A delicious rip in time...

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Nate yawned and stretched as he walked aft and heard snoring. He spied a shape on the deck, 'sawing logs' and grinned, barely suppressing a chuckle. One of the after cabin doors creaked open and out came the commodore so Nate made himself scarce, just to stay out of the mans way. He watched as the commodore paced forward and there he met another crewman, who in turn was met by Dillard. Salutes all around and the man wot smoked a pipe left their company. Words were exchanged between the commodore and Dillard before they separated, walking in opposite directions of the deck. Nate sighed and realized these men were different than those of his last ship. The reminder causing a slight pain to his memory. Nate had yet to see any man stumbling drunk while on his duty, of course he hadn't been on this ship for more than so many hours. While he mused on this he heard a door slam below and moments later Red cat appeared and headed aft. Nate watched her go, seeing that she were still in a foul mood it seemed. He crept to the bottom of the stairs to the quarterdeck and watched her for a bit, decided he didn't want to disturb her further and turned quickly to leave, only to tangle his foot in a poorly coiled line on the deck which caused him to fall half on a cannon and scatter the gun bucket and tools. Nate bit back a mouthful of curses and gritted his teeth as he rose slowly in the darkness, hoping he hadn't woken anyone, but knowing those who were awake heard his fall.

~Black Nate~

Brenpen185.jpg

A ship in a puddle is better than no ship at all

Dear Saint Brendan, to mention your name is to recall much travelling.

It was in relation to voyages that you emerged as a popular Saint.

The Irish became great travelers thus spreading their faith everywhere.

Protect not only mariners but also all those who go down to the sea in ships. Amen.

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Silkie stirred at the sound of a door slamming below, then just as she had dozed again someone stumbled in the dark. Within seconds she was on her feet. Her haversack dropped to her side as she drew her pistol with her right hand and her dagger with the left. "Who goes there?!" she growled. She had learned that predators come in many forms even the form of fellow crew mates who guessed her secret. Many would have her as their own. Given that the ship was docked kidnapping was not out of the question and no mans ransom would free her from one who wanted her for her those talents and skills that were in her nature.

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The clattering and curses caught my attention. I grabbed a service pistol, a lantern and I walked towards the commotion.

I saw the glint of steel and the back of one Silkie. I said, "Silkie, why have you chosen my watch to start your uproar? Lass, if your going to sleep on deck, you can't be skulking about in the dark; I could have shot you!" I returned the pistol to half-cocked but Silkie ignored me.

Apparently, Silkie was hunting the source of the clatter. She didn't lower her guard and seemed intent on finding the perpetrator. I raised my lantern and the light fell on someone else sprawled on the deck, near the stairs. I fully cocked the pistol, again.

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Nate cursed to himself as a voice was raised and called out 'who goes there!' He sighed heavily as he ran a hand across his shin, already feeling the lump beginning to swell. He was about to answer when another voice was heard, chastising the woman, Silkie. Nate had a slight feeling of guilt that she was taking grief due to his noise. He was about to stand and reveal himself when it grew lighter and a pistol was heard to cock. Instead of standing quickly Nate just raised his hands. "Careful now, tis only ol' Nate, done tripped on some lubber's ball o line on deck. If I woke ya from yer slumberins I beg fergiveness. Ain't my fault these lines were poorly laid." Seeing the recognition of those staring at him Nate stood and brushed himself off and began collection the scattered gun tools and bucket.

~Black Nate~

Brenpen185.jpg

A ship in a puddle is better than no ship at all

Dear Saint Brendan, to mention your name is to recall much travelling.

It was in relation to voyages that you emerged as a popular Saint.

The Irish became great travelers thus spreading their faith everywhere.

Protect not only mariners but also all those who go down to the sea in ships. Amen.

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"Fek Nate!" Silkie sheathed her dagger and released the hammer on her pistol. "Good gawd. sorry ...just a bit jittery. I nil like wot's been goin on round ere ...I should ave taken a swim t'night. Visited a friend er two on d'shores uv dis island." Clipping her murdock to her belt once again. "Surry Nate, Dillard, ken't wait t'get out a ere."

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Nate grinned in the darkness, "Not to worry lass, wouldn't mind that we make sail, sooner th better." He glanced to Dillard still standing there before continuing the clean up of the tools and righting the bucket. finally he took hold of the line that had snared him and began pulling out the tangles and knots. Nate shook his head as he undid the mess, wondering if he was mistaken about crew being three sheet to the wind while on duty. Nate had a mind to see after any other line that was in disarray, but in the morning, not now.

~Black Nate~

Brenpen185.jpg

A ship in a puddle is better than no ship at all

Dear Saint Brendan, to mention your name is to recall much travelling.

It was in relation to voyages that you emerged as a popular Saint.

The Irish became great travelers thus spreading their faith everywhere.

Protect not only mariners but also all those who go down to the sea in ships. Amen.

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"Aye, ifin I were ere on mae own I'd be less on edge. Some nice spots away frum d'ports but too many people n'crowds fer mae comfort ere."

Silkie, now wide awake, could not find the peace to relax she paced the length of the deck. Found another poorly coiled rope which she almost left but experience wouldn't let it be so she recoiled it.

After that exercise she began pacing again. When she could not take it any longer she slung her baldric over her shoulder pulled the haversack to a more comfortable position adjusted the placement of the cutlass and headed to the gang plank.

Had she not heard Roberts call after her his footfalls following behind she would have kept going but something about that rogue. She stopped, turned to the man, a Mona Lisa smile soft below smoky eyes she tucked a curl behind her ear. "Wot?"

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The noise and voices on deck roused me from my bunk, again. As I climbed to the main deck, I could see that Dillard had his pistol drawn an pointed at Nate.

"Trouble Mister Dillard," I asked. He shook his head. Dillard hooked his pistol to his belt and answered, "Nay, sir. Nate was just preparing to fix a mess that Spoons lot had left behind."

"At this time of night?" I replied, as I cast a doubtful look at Nate. "Well, since it seems everyone is eager t' get an early start, lets prepare t' get underway." I thought I heard Dillard groan, "Is there a problem, Mister Dillard?" He replied, "Nay, sir. It's just that there's no wind at all."

"I concur Mister Dillard, then they'll be no back winds t' prevent us from warpin' away from this dock."

I cast a look at Silkie, "Haul up the gang plank, Silkie. Prepare t' cast off the moorin' lines."

My eyes settled on Nate, "Nate, the jolly boat is in the water. I believe yer familiar wit' droppin' a kedging anchor. I'll roust Smithe, he'll help ye row out in t' the harbor."

No one was movin' quickly, so I shouted, "Wot are ye all waitin' fer, daylight?"

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Red Cat had stood in th darkness an wotched all tha took place. Aye she had a mind t' train a pistol on Dillard fer ol Nate's sake, but she knowed he warn't one fer bein on th impulsive end of a firearm.

As JAcky appeared she began t' make her way towards him t' speak wit him about Dillard, but as she strode she heard th wards she'd longed for.

"Oi" she said as she gave th' Captain a wink in passin "You men there! man th, moorin lines now!" Cat found a place uppon deck an manned a line herself eager t' get underway.

She returned Nate's grin as he passed her on his way t' th jollyboat "Mr. Durant..." He touched his hat an she returned th gesture.

Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help....

Her reputation was her livelihood.

I'm a pirate, love. By nature and by choice!

My inner voice sometimes has an accent!

My wont? A delicious rip in time...

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Roberts walked towards Silkie an though he were tempted t' just admire th lass as she worked, he moved closer an hefted th gangplank wit her. "Now lass, where were ye headed witout the permission...and fine escort o' th First Mate I might ask? " A troubled look crossed her pretty face as she realized her mistake followed by a blush at th second half o' his query. Roberts laughed a merry laugh an gave her a quick squeeze to his side wit one large arm. His bright blue eyes sparkled wit' the promis o' mischief an his enthusiasm nearly knocked her off balance. "Don't fret lass!" His booming voice exclaimed "Ye jus call fer Ol Mister Roberts next time" Wit a laugh and a grin o' gold, he admired her once more an was off down th' deck shoutin orders an corrections as the crew readied t' sail. Now an then he glanced in her direction as she threw in wit th' others. Aye he still wan't sure about that one..but she were a firey lass.

Wine, women, coin n song.

Equal shares of each says I!

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Nate made his way over the side and into the waiting boat. Checking the sweeps and being satisfied in the darkness that they were sound he waited for others to join him in the jolly boat. A shadow loomed over the side and then over the rail and down into the boat. "Smithe is it? Nate Durant. Take up the sweeps wit me so we can get th' anchor, if ye please." Smithe looked at him and grumbled before taking up the sweeps. Both men pulled the jolly boat to the bow and the anchor was lowered and made fast to the boat. Orders given and they pulled out into the harbor until the order was shouted to let her loose. This was repeated many times until they were free of Habana. Nate wondered wot lay ahead on board as well as who or wot might be encountered.

~Black Nate~

Brenpen185.jpg

A ship in a puddle is better than no ship at all

Dear Saint Brendan, to mention your name is to recall much travelling.

It was in relation to voyages that you emerged as a popular Saint.

The Irish became great travelers thus spreading their faith everywhere.

Protect not only mariners but also all those who go down to the sea in ships. Amen.

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Leavin' port under the cover o' darkness, wit' the excuse that the crew's nocturnal habits warranted it, seemed a bit contrived. Still, I had the feelin' that we were bein' watched; so, slippin' out o' Havana sooner than later seemed well advised.

Wit' the jolly boat back aboard, the sails trimmed an Havana at our backs, we sailed on t' the port o' St. Jean.

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MUCH better thought Silkie. The sails set running a starboard tack she no longet felt caged ...although she still longed to be in the water beside the ship rather than standing on its deck. However, seeing that Roberts was not at the helm she thought perhaps she might not mind it after all and sought the man out.

Finding the man stretched out in his bunk his eyes closed she decided once again to leave sleeping men lie but as she turned to leave him her wrist was seized and he pulled her to him. She fell upon him her torso against his their faces mere inches apart. "Yer not leavin me here alone are ya lass?", he whispered, the heat of his breath warming her ear. "A man gets lonesome on long voyages."

Silkie laughed a silent laugh, "Goode man, we jus left port, ya aven't even ad time to stretch yer sea legs."

His arms enfolded her "Aye, but I also had no time wit you."

Her eyes darkened as she lifted an eyebrow, "Det dear man wuz nil a fault o'mine."

"I'm first mate, I've m'duty."

"Hmmmm." her eyes narrowed.

"Now lass, don't put an ugly scowl on that lovely face." His eyes pretending to ask forgiveness, his hand caressed her chin and he kissed her lightly.

She drew in her breath, "Rogue." was all she said as she brought herself upright. "Dere er doze wot would like us t'leave em sleep." Silkie could feel someone stareing at her. "Ifin ya wonts t'come up on dek n'join mae would bae fine. If nil I'll bae sleepin up dere anyway."

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Mister Tar was at the helm, Smithe was securing the jolly boat and Jonesy, along with the remaining Dutch sailors, was trimming sails. The sun was rising off our starboard and I was spent.

"Mister Tar, permission to catch a few winks below?" I said. He nodded and replied, "Just a few, fer I don't want ye sleepin' the day away." I knuckled my forehead and staggered below decks.

As I approached my berth, I caught a glimpse of Silkie hovering over Roberts. I cleared my throat, "Lose your bearings Silkie? Perhaps you can bunk with Red Cat, if you don't want to rest topside." She bristled, but didn't say a word and brushed by me, as I retreated to my hammock.

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Red Cat were restin in her hammock, pistol across her lap. She moved not, but opened one eye as Silkie brushed in th' space obviously flustered. Cat chuckled at the blush coloin her friend's cheeks 'neath the reddish locks. "Aye gerl...y' been t' see ol Robert's aint ye?" Silkie swore summin in her native tongue an swore agin as her foot struck a chest in th' darkness. Cat chuckled once more an turned in her hammock closin her eyes "Don't worry yer self lass..." she said "Tis usual wi th' man " she had barely finished her sentence when she dropped off agin t' slumber an dreams o' chests o' Spanish gold.

Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help....

Her reputation was her livelihood.

I'm a pirate, love. By nature and by choice!

My inner voice sometimes has an accent!

My wont? A delicious rip in time...

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Roberts glowered at Dillard, whom had just dispatched his plans fer th' wee hours. The man looked so stricken in his tired realization. He had only intended to admonish th young lady, forgetting it was the First Mate whom he had interrupted. Still Dillard was a sailor of some years experience. Experience he knew even Johnathan Roberts who now lay back in is hammock with only his thoughts fer company understood. It was no good havin wimmin berth wi men. Dillard felt it was no good havin wimmin aboard at'all. Only trouble could brew from that. Especially two as unpredicatble as Red Cat an Silkie McDunough.

Roberts despite his anger had to laugh... at what, Dillard wasn't so sure. "I'll remember yer kindness Mr. Dillard..." he said in th darkness and let the last word trail off saying nothing after.

Wine, women, coin n song.

Equal shares of each says I!

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Back aboard and working th lines and sheets, Nate kept to himself as best he could in the wee hours of the morning. Once the ship was trimmed up well, Nate was given leave to head below and sleep while he had the chance. Back in his hammock, it took no time for him to fall into a deep sleep, hoping he would not suffer any nightmares. He still saw the faces of his crewmates from the Eliza swimming in the darkness once in awhile.

~Black Nate~

Brenpen185.jpg

A ship in a puddle is better than no ship at all

Dear Saint Brendan, to mention your name is to recall much travelling.

It was in relation to voyages that you emerged as a popular Saint.

The Irish became great travelers thus spreading their faith everywhere.

Protect not only mariners but also all those who go down to the sea in ships. Amen.

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Silkie headed topside once again. Was better here when with the weather was so warm. She liked being one step closer to the water. She boiled a moment while she thought of Dillard's comment and Roberts behavior. She was leaving anyway when that blasted Dillard ...she should break out in song right now, she snickered a wicked snicker, then continued her thought ...Dillard needs to mind his own business!

Finding a clear area along the rail Silkie made herself comfortable and waited for her watch to start.

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As the Dutch fluyt left the harbour o' Havana, I considered the bargain that had been struck. Aye, I had command of a ship again, but Navarro had picked most of my crew. Some were passable sailors, most were soldiers put aboard to insure I'd keep my end o' the bargain.

The ship was called the Zwaluw, she was lightly armed and required only a small crew to sail her. No threat to a Spanish galleon, a decent merchant ship at best.

Word had been sent that the Relentless had charted a course for St. Jean. So, I wondered, whom does Mister Tar need t' see there, and why? I also wondered, how was I going t' get all these Spaniards off my ship.

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"I'm going back."

Africa frowned. "I don think dat a good idea. Most likely Dat Man hate you by now."

"I don't care." I paced aggitatedly across the poop deck. "Leaving Havana was a mistake. It didn't accomplish anything. None of the Spaniards followed us."

Africa's frown turned to a glare. "Is dat why you leave? So we can play at chicken for Spanish foxes, just to save Dat Man and his ship?"

"Pretty much," I shot back. "What's the problem?"

With big hands fisted on his hips, he leaned in toward me, his brow lowered. "You risk da Rakehell to be taken by Spaniards, an you don think dat a problem for every man on dis boat, mos especialy me?"

"Of course not. What Spanish ship could touch the Rakehell? She's a sea hawk, not a chicken. If it gave Jacky some time, then it was worth the risk. But I think the plan failed, so now we go back."

"I not goin' back to Havana."

I ceased pacing, narrowed my eyes and returned glare for glare. "If I tell you to go back, then we bloody well go back, damn you. However, there's no need for that. We head for St. Jean."

"Wot's in St. Jean?"

I gave Africa my biggest grin. "The Relentless — and Dat Man."

Africa rolled his eyes. "He probably shoot you on sight, he so mad."

I grinned wider. "Oh, I'm counting on it. But then he'll feel bad about it, we'll make up, and everthing will be fine. With luck, he'll only wing me."

Africa gave a groan and walked away, but within ten minutes the Rakehell had changed course and was heading for Port St. Jean.

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

RAKEHELL-1.jpg

You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

Found in the Ruins — Unique Jewelry

Found in the Ruins — Personal Blog

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As I lay in my hammock, I wondered about Roberts remark. Surely he could find a more discrete place to entertain the ladies?

Silkie, what was she thinking? She always smelled like fish. And if she started to sing, again... I swear I'd be tempted to cut her tongue out.

I began to slumber and dream about the Creole women, waiting for me in the port of St. Jean. Aye, a port where women didn't smell like fish, or dress like men; pleasant dreams, indeed.

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Leavin' a port an settin' sail fer the next, always gives one pause. Wit' the sun risin', I found me self turnin' t' see if any Spanish sails were behind us. Satisfied that none were, I laid in a course fer St. Jean.

"Smithe, climb that ratline and help Jonesy unfurl the last o' the courses!" I bellowed. "Fer a short round fella, that man can climb."

A lot 'bout sailing is goin' in the wrong direction. The winds favored us this mornin', so we were headin' mostly in the right direction.

Stones had secured the last o' the warp anchors; I requested he take the helm. The smell o' coffee was waftin' from the galley an it was callin' t' me.

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Bein' that he'd had a long life on the sea, and was familier with the contrary ways of captains and sailors, Colard didn't find the Rakehell's sudden change of course odd. Well, maybe just a wee bit odd, but he paid it no heed. With a woman at the helm — fickle creatures, prone to sudden flights of the mind — what else could one expect? With his short-term friend Nate gone to the other vessel, Colard had turned to the man called Tunny for any questions he had. Tunny was close to Colard's age, but unlike Colard, was thin and wiry, and had a nose which jutted from his face like a weathervane, and a long que of hair the color of mud.

As they worked to get the ship on her new course, Colard asked, "How long has young lassie been Captain of this fine vessel?"

Tunny scratched his head with a bony finger. "Well, she been Captain for as long as I been aboard, and that's commin' on five years this winter. No doubt it'll take ya some gettin' used to, but make no mistake friend, she's good at her job, fairer than most, but will flay your hide if ya cross her. And stay on the Blackamoor's good side, if ya know what's best. Guards her like a hell-hound, he does."

Colard nodded. "Oh, I'll mind mae ways, and cause nae trouble with yon Blackamoor. But all the same, I thank yea for the good advice."

Then they to the tavern house

with meikle oly prance

One spoke with wordis wonder crouse

A done with mischance!

*******************

I would die where I would dine

In tavern to recline

Then would angels pray the glibber

God have mercy for this bibber.

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