EL LOBO DEL MAR

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Honour's eyes went wide with worry.  Unconsciously she clutched Zara to herself a little more.
"Jack, I'm frightened.  Strange men coming aboard our ship..."
"Don't worry, love," he said with a reassuring smile.  "It's just a formality.  If they wanted to harm us, they would have done it already.  This is probably just their commander's errand boy wondering if we've any spare tea."
"You're certain?"
"Well, not about the tea.  But he's an errand boy, no matter how much braid he's wearing.  He's coming to talk, and talk is good.  Much better than shooting."
Honour tried to force herself to relax.  This was supposed to be a simple cruise home.  Home, to a new life.  Not this.  Anything but this.  In spite of her best efforts, tears began to well in her eyes again.
"Go do what you have to do, my love," she said quietly.
Then Jack did something she never expected.
He held out his hand.
"I-- I don't understand," she said.
"I want you with me, Honour.  I need you with me."
"But, why?"
"You're half owner of this vessel, and you have the most precious of all our cargo right there in your arms.  I want the Navy to know they're taking on the whole Wolfe family this day.  If that doesn't make them take pause, I don't know what will."
Honour's eyes hardened a little.  "You want them to see there's a woman and a child aboard, knowing that will stop them doing any rough stuff.  Or have I suddenly begun misreading you?"
Jack gave a resigned sigh.  "No, darling, you haven't.  But if I just tell them you're on board, they may decide I'm bluffing and do something stupid.  If they see you with their own eyes, whatever plans they may have will be out the window."
He took her hand and squeezed it gently.
"Please, Honour.  I wouldn't even entertain this idea if I thought you and Zara would be in any danger."
"You could have asked me straight out, Jack, instead of trying – poorly – to sugar coat things.  I would have said yes."
"I'm sorry.  I should have given you more credit," he said quietly.
"You'll make it up to me later," said Honour with a slight smile.  "I've got lots of ideas on remodelling."
"Extravagant, I'd imagine?"
"Yet very tasteful."  She turned her attention to Zara, who was busy tugging at one of the button eyes of her toy rabbit.  The little girl's face was pure focused determination as her dainty fingers twisted and pulled.  Suddenly, the button came of in her hand.  Zara looked at the shiny green bauble in surprise.
"Bolx!" she exclaimed.
Honour arched an eyebrow at Jack, who shrugged innocently.
"First we deal with the Navy," she said stiffly.  "Then we deal with this."
She turned and walked toward the door.  Briggs leaned close to his friend and muttered, "I'd rather take me chances with the Navy!"
Jack didn't say a word.  But he nodded in agreement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ahoy the ship!  We wish to come aboard!" called Lieutenant Ethan Kensington from the longboat that rode along side El Lobo.  He was a young man in his mid-twenties, with an officious bearing that well suited the bright red dress uniform he proudly wore in his station as first officer of the Commonwealth ship Reliance.  Kensington watched patiently as a tethering line snaked through the air and landed across the longboat.  One of the sailors took the rope and quickly tied it to the front of the boat.
"We are secured!" he announced as his men pulled the boat closer to the ship, and presently a rope ladder with wooden steps unfurled along El Lobo's side.  Kensington checked his pistol and made a slight adjustment to the way his sabre hung at his hip, then took hold of the ladder.
"Hold there!" said the other officer on the boat.  James Marlowe, a freshly minted lieutenant junior grade, stepped over one of the sailors and placed a hand on the ladder.
"Regulations clearly state, sir, that crewmen of lower rank precede the ranking officer when boarding another, possibly hostile, vessel."
Kensington looked down his nose at Marlowe.  "Regulations be damned, Mister Marlowe," he sniffed.  "Jack Wolfe is my prize, and I'll deal with him myself.  You will remain here with the boat."
"I must protest!" Marlowe countered.  "This is highly irregular."
"Your concerns are duly noted, Mister Marlowe," said Kensington flatly.  "Now you will follow orders and remain in the boat.  Or do you crave the lash in reward for your insubordination?"
Marlowe glared at Kensington, but he knew trying to press the matter further was futile.  Kensington was as ambitious as he was reckless, and he was the ranking officer.  The best he could do is note the incident in his report, and hope for the best.  He clenched his teeth, then sat down.
"Good man," Kensington said in his best patronising tone.  He adjusted his coat smugly and began climbing the ladder.

When Kensington got to the top of the ladder, he found two rough looking sailors waiting for him.  They took him by the arms and helped him climb over the gunwale.  Once his feet were on the deck, he made a point of brushing off the sleeves of his coat where the men had touched him.  When he looked up from inspecting his sleeves for tar stains, he found there was a tall, gangly young man smiling cordially at him.
"Welcome aboard!  My name's Eli Meredith.  I'll be escortin' you to see th' captain."
Eli continued to smile, and held out his hand in greeting.  Kensington glanced down at the young man's extended hand, cocked an eyebrow, and looked back to Eli's face.
"Yes.  You take me to see your captain.  Now."
Somewhat puzzled by the navy man's abruptness, Eli's smile faded as he let his hand drop.  "I don't think I caught your name, mister..."
"My name is of no concern to you.  Only to your captain."
"Right.  Follow me, then," he said.  As he walked toward the quarterdeck, he muttered to himself, "Poppin'-jay son of a..."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Kensington followed close behind Eli as they climbed the steps to the quarterdeck.  Waiting there was Briggs, Jack, and Honour, with Zara in her arms.  Briggs was near the steps with his hands behind his back, while Jack and Honour stood toward the stern.
Eli turned and motioned to Briggs.  "This here's the captain, like you wanted."
Briggs eyed the navy man with disapproval.  "Josiah Briggs, captain and master of this vessel, at yer service.  And ye'd be...?"
"Lieutenant Ethan Kensington, of the Commonwealth warship Reliance."  He looked suspiciously at Jack, then back to Briggs.  "This is a poor bit of deception, Mister Briggs.  You're the quartermaster, not the captain."  He pointed at Jack.  "You are Jack Wolfe, are you not?"
Jack gave a curt half bow.  "That I am, lieutenant.  This is my wife, Honour Wolfe.  And Mister Briggs is indeed the captain of this ship now.  I am merely the owner."
"And just when, pray tell, did this happen?"
"Roughly a month ago," said Jack.  "You'll forgive us that no paperwork was filed.  We don't exactly stand on formality.  Gets in the way."
Kensington's eyes narrowed.  "No, I suppose you wouldn't.  But not to worry.  The Admiralty has extensive files on you already."
"Do they now?"
"You're very well known, Mister Wolfe.  Or would you prefer I address you as Mad Jack?"
Honour shifted uneasily and moved closer to her husband.
"Mister Wolfe suits me fine," Jack replied tersely.
"It makes no difference to me what you call yourself," said Kensington as he looked with casual boredom at his fingernails.  "You will accompany me back to the Reliance."
"For what reason?"
"To meet with my commanding officer, of course.  He's very keen to talk with you."
"Please extend my regrets to your superior, lieutenant," said Jack.  "However, he is more than welcome to dine aboard my ship.  We can talk then."
Kensington shook his head.  "That's not the way it's done, Wolfe.  Don't make me arrest you in front of your pretty wife."  He pulled back his frock coat just enough to reveal his pistol.
"You're playing a dangerous game, lad."  Jack took a step forward, placing himself between Honour and Kensington.  "Draw that weapon, and no matter what happens, you'd never make it off this ship alive."

Kensington gave him an oily smile.  "All eyes aboard those three warships are watching us.  If I were to be attacked, they are under orders to open fire on this ship.  That would not bode well for your wife and child.  Check and mate, Mister Wolfe.  Now, come with me."
Jack glared at the pompous officer.  There was a good chance Kensington was bluffing, but he couldn't risk Honour and Zara's lives.
"All right, lieutenant.  I'll come with you, peacefully."
"Good man," said Kensington with a self satisfied smile.  "Say your goodbyes.  It may be a while before you see them again."
Jack turned immediately to Honour.  Her eyes were wide with fright, and tears were already starting to roll down her cheeks.
"Jack, you can't go with that horrible man!  You can't leave us!"
He took her gently by the shoulders and kissed her forehead.  "It will be all right, Honour.  I promise," he said quietly.  "I'll find a way to make this work.  His commander has to be more reasonable than he is.  I'll... negotiate with him."  Jack leaned close and kissed Zara's head, then Honour's cheek.  "Every man has his price, and I'll find this one's, I swear.  Don't be afraid.  I'll make this work.  You trust me?"
He looked into Honour's eyes, and she nodded.
"Time to go, Mister Wolfe," announced Kensington.
"I love you," said Jack, and he kissed her and Zara once more.  He then turned to Kensington, no longer willing to hide the contempt he felt.  "What are we waiting for?"

Jack sat silently in the boat as the sailors rowed toward the Reliance.  He watched as the distance between him and his ship – and his family – grew steadily.  Honour was still on the quarterdeck watching, and Jack found himself regretting the choices he had made in this life that now threatened to separate him from the dearest things in his life; his wife and child.
"She's really quiet lovely," said Kensington.  "It's a pity you won't see her for a very long time.  Hopefully her looks won't fade too much before you see her again.  Then, of course, there's your child..."
Jack looked over at the arrogant lieutenant, his face impassive.  "Kensington, keep in mind that we're away from my ship," he said quietly and calmly.  "If anything were to happen now, your men have no reason to fire on her, only this boat.  Now, if you keep talking, I'm going to find out if your blood matches the red of your uniform."
Kensington's eyes went wide, and he swallowed hard.
The remainder of the trip to the Reliance passed in silence save for the creak of the oars as they pulled through the water.

Once aboard the Reliance, Jack was led below deck through the companionway to a heavy oak door near the ship's stern.  "Right to the big dog," he thought.  "At least they're not wasting time."
Kensington knocked three times on the door, and a voice within replied "Come!"
The lieutenant opened the door and stepped inside.  Jack could see the commanding officer.  He was looking out one of the gallery windows, his back to room.  He was a little taller than Jack, and wore a red uniform with gold braids at the shoulders.  His hair was pulled back in a pigtail and tied with a black ribbon.
Kensington turned beside the door and snapped to attention.
"Sir!" he said loudly.  "I present to you the right honourable Admiral Wolfe!"
Jack stepped inside, and began laughing.  "I really did rattle you back there, didn't I?  It's Captain Wolfe, sonny.  But I appreciate the promotion all the same."
The figure at the window cleared his throat.  "He wasn't announcing your arrival, Captain Wolfe.  He was introducing you to me."
The man turned from the window, and Jack's mouth fell open in shock.
"Thomas?  It's you??" he gasped.
"Hello, Jack," Admiral Thomas Wolfe said with a smile.  "It's been a long time, my dear, wayward brother.  Please, have a seat.  There's a few things we need to catch up on."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

A grin of joy and relief quickly spread across Jack's face.  He rushed past a dumbstruck Kensington and into his brother's arms.  As the two men laughed and embraced, Kensington struggled to make sense of what he was seeing.
"You're... brothers??" said the slackjawed lieutenant.
"Oh dear," said Thomas.  "Mister Kensington, you've gone and put one and one together and come up with eleven again, haven't you?  Surely someone of even your overwrought pedigree should have noticed the uncanny similarity in our family names.  Go ahead, think about it.  And..."
Kensington's face began to colour when he realised the mistakes he'd made that day, all in the name of reaping personal glory for apprehending a renowned pirate.  He had unwittingly bullied and threatened members of his superior's family, most likely destroying his prospects for advancement in the process, all because he had been too full of himself to notice a crucial detail.  The admiral's patronising tone was salt in that fresh wound.
"... there it is," said Thomas with a snap of his fingers.  "I trust you treated my brother with all due respect, Kensington?"
"Um... well, you see...  I...  ah..." 
He waited as the lieutenant squirmed, then he looked to Jack, who slowly shook his head no.
Thomas began writing a note to himself on a scrap of paper.  "Mister Kensington, you're relieved of duty until I get this sorted out."
"But, Admiral!  You're going to take the... head waggle of a, dare I say it--"
"A pirate?  Yes, because he's a good deal smarter than you," said Thomas, his tone becoming increasingly impatient.  "This is not a debate.  Shall I confine you to quarters as well?"
Kensington snapped to attention.  Everyone knew it was a bad idea to earn the admiral's anger, and he knew he'd done just that.  One more mistake added to a very, very bad day.
"No, sir!  My apologies, to you and your brother, sir!"
"You are dismissed, Mister Kensington," said Thomas in quiet, even tones.  "I'll deal with you later."
The young man beat a hasty retreat, almost slamming the door behind him.  Not out of anger, but of humiliation.

Jack looked at his older brother in surprise, not quite sure what to say about Thomas' dressing down of the lieutenant or his own amazing turn of luck.  Thomas slipped off his frock coat, folded it neatly lengthwise, and draped it over the back of his chair.  Then he burst out in laughter.
"You always got that look on your face when Father scolded one of us instead of you!  I nicked that bit from him!  Still works, doesn't it?"
"I was waiting for you to send him out back to the woodshed to find a switch!" laughed Jack.  "Thomas, I must admit I'm at a loss for words.  To hear Kensington tell it, I was bound for Newgate prison for the rest of my days, if my ship wasn't blown out of the water first.  But there has to be a reason for you and your lads chasing me down this way."
"He threatened all that, did he?  Well, well.  That's going to make overlooking him for promotion so much easier."  Thomas paused for a moment before motioning to the seat in front of his desk.  His demeanour became unsettlingly businesslike.  "Sit down, Jack.  There is a very good reason why we were following you."
"Do I want to hear it?"
"You don't have a choice."
"I already don't like it."

Jack took the seat and folded his arms across his chest while he waited for Thomas to sit as well.
"Something to drink?" offered Thomas.
"You didn't chase me down for brandy, Thomas.  Let's cut to it."
Thomas' eyebrows went up at Jack's directness.  He went ahead and poured two glasses, and pushed one of them in front of his brother.  After taking a sip of his drink, he held up a piece of paper.
"My orders," he said, slowly fanning the page in the air.  "To pursue and arrest one John Michael Wolfe, known also as Mad Jack Wolfe, captain and master of El Lobo del Mar, on charges of piracy and half a dozen other related crimes against the Commonwealth."
Jack took a long drink, then stared into his glass.  "This is very good brandy."
"That's it?  I tell you there's a warrant for capital crimes sworn out against you, and all you have to say is 'good brandy'?"
"What would you have me say, Thomas?  Beg for leniency?  That's not going to happen.  We both know I'm guilty." 
Jack put down his glass and looked Thomas in the eyes.
"You want to know were my ship was headed, dear brother?"
Thomas shrugged.  "Barbados, I assumed.  That was where you'd made a home of sorts."
"Funny you should put it that way.  That's exactly where I was headed.  Home.  A new home, and a new life.  You want to know who else is on the ship with me?"
"Do tell."
"My wife and child."
Thomas blinked.  "Your wife?  And a child?  You remarried, then?"
Jack shook his head.  "No.  Our paths finally crossed again, thank God."
"I thought you were only interested in that relic she stole.  A key, wasn't it?"
"A key I gave her.  Honour kept it out of spite.  But I found she was the treasure I'd been looking for all this time."

Thomas sat back, trying to absorb what Jack was telling him.  His face was a mask of confusion as he tried to sort it all out.
"Let me see if I understand this," he said finally.  "The woman you swore you hated came back into your life..."
"Yes."
"... with a child in tow..."
"No, she was still in Wales.  That's where we're returning from."
"She??  You, with a daughter??"  Thomas began to laugh so hard he could scarcely catch his breath.
"Go ahead and get it out of your system.  Believe me, I was shocked to death when Honour told me we had a little girl."
"And you're certain she's yours?"
"No question.  Wait until you see her.  She's definitely a Wolfe."
Thomas was finally catching his breath from laughing.  "So the three of you are headed back to Barbados to start a new life?  At least I hope that's the intent?"
Jack sighed.  "That was the plan.  We have a plantation outside of Bridgetown.  I thought I'd try my hand at being landed gentry.  See how the other half lives, you know?  That is, until you showed up with that damnable piece of paper."  He gave his brother a quizzical look.  "What the devil are you smiling about?"

"I'm happy for you, Jack.  Happier than words can describe."
"Happy that I almost got that life mum and dad wanted for me?  Your sense of humour has taken a cruel turn, Thomas."
Thomas shook his head, and refilled their glasses.  "No, I'm happy you said the magic words.  Most of them, anyway.  There's only one more I need to hear."
"You have me at a disadvantage," said Jack.  "What magic words did I say?"
Thomas opened a drawer to his desk and produced another piece of parchment.
"This enterprise cost me calling in quite a few favours, Jack.  Nearly all of them.  I knew anyone else would have executed the warrant and washed their hands of the matter.  Just another pirate put away, and hopefully a promotion if the stars align properly.  But I knew that if I were the one to find you, I could help.  That's where the favours came in.  So I could offer you something no one else could."
He put the piece of paper in front of Jack and smiled proudly.  Jack picked it up, and his mouth fell open.
"I.... I can't believe it...." he stammered.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"Believe it, Jack," said Thomas.  "It's just what it looks like.  A full, immediate pardon, signed by Oliver Cromwell himself.  The only condition is that you give up piracy and never commit another act of it again.  Those were the magic words you said earlier.  You've already made the decision to quit the life and rejoin society.  Take your time and read it over."

Jack took another sip of brandy and began to read the words printed on the parchment:

An Ordinance of Pardon and Grace to One John Michael Wolfe, also Known as Mad Jack Wolfe, Master and Owner of the Ship El Lobo del Mare.
[10 November 1654]

His Highness the Lord Protector of the Commonwealth of England, Scotland and Ireland, and the Dominions thereunto belonging, being desirous that the Mercies which it hath pleased God to give to this Nation, should be improved for the good and advantage of all Parties, Doth Ordain and Declare, and be it Ordained and Declarced by his Highness the Lord Protector, with the Consent of his Council, That John Michael Wolfe, also Known as Mad Jack Wolfe, and any other Aliases thereof, and the Crewe of the Ship El Lobo del Mare, of what degree or quality soever they or any of them are (except the persons hereafter in this Ordinance particularly excepted) shall be, and are hereby, and from and after the first day of December in the year, One thousand six hundred fifty four, freed, acquitted and discharged from all Forfeitures, Pains, Penalties, Mulcts, corporal or pecuniary, Restraints, Imprisonment or Imprisonments, Punishment or Punishments whatsoever for any matter or thing by them or any of them, committed or done by Sea or Land; And that for the matters aforesaid, there shall be from and after the said First day of December aforesaid, no Sequestration, Confiscation, Fine, Penalty, Forfeiture or Punishment, imposed or continued upon them or any of them, (otherwise then as is hereafter in this Ordinance expressed) but the same shall be put in perpetual Oblivion.

And also that the Estates real and personal of all persons of shall be, and are hereby and from thenceforth freed, discharged and acquitted from all Sequestrations, Confiscations, Fines, Penalties and Forfeitures whatsoever, for any matter or thing by them or any of them committed or done, in relation to any aforesaid Crimes committed against the Commonwealth and Her Peoples.

Except and always reserved out of this present Ordinance, and all benefit thereof, are any Member of the Crewe beneath the Rank of Mate, to include all Ordinary Sailors, and all the Honours, Manors, Castles, Houses, Messuages, Forests, Chases, Parks and Lands and all Tenements and Hereditaments, Royalties, Priviledges, Franchises, Immunities, Rents and Appurtenances to them, belonging or appertaining, or heretofore lawfully used or enjoyed by them, or any of them, as part or parcel thereof, and also all the Goods and Chattels, and all the Estates, both real and personal...

Jack's eyes began to glaze over at the verbose legalese, but but it was not lost on him that a few of his men would be forfeit in this pardon.  The most prominent being the young Eli Meredith, whom Jack had come to look upon as a son.  "Nothing a clever lie can't fix," he thought.

Provided always, and be it further Ordained, That this Ordinance, or any thing therein contained, shall not extend, nor be construed to extend, to the freeing or discharging of any Prisoner or Prisoners arrested for their several Crimes, from their respective Imprisonments; or to the Cancelling or Discharging of any Surety, Bond, Parol, or Engagement, of, or for any Prisoner of War, without the special Order of His Highness the Lord Protector, or whom he shall appoint.

"So much for the jailbirds," thought Jack.  "Serves them right for getting caught."

Signed this Day, the Tenth of November in the Year of Our Lord, One thousand six hundred fifty four.

Oliver Cromwell

A slowly exhaled breath escaped Jack's lips as he considered the terms of the pardon.
"I never thought I'd give half a damn to see anything with Ollie's signature on it," he said quietly.  "I know, politics go out the window when it's your neck on the block, but..."
"The beautiful thing is," said Thomas as he picked up the warrant again, "that document, because of the who's signature is on it, nullifies this one.  If you sign it, of course.  Please, Jack.  I want to tear this one up.  Hell, I want to burn it!"
"They got the name of my ship wrong.  What about the Laws of Admiralty?"
"Jack, I am an admiral," said Thomas.  "I'll write an attachment that will cover the misspelling.  You're lucky they spelled your name right."
"All right.  I can live with that.  But I need to know; is Honour covered by this?"
"Was she aboard during any act of piracy?"
"No, she wasn't."
"Does she hold any rank?  Beside Captain's Woman, that is?"
Jack couldn't help but laugh.  "No, besides the unofficial rank of Master and Commander of me, she doesn't."
"Then everyone that matters is covered."
"Everyone but Eli, but I'll fix that myself," Jack said to himself.

"All right, Thomas.  I take it 'yes' is the magic word you're looking for?"
Thomas nodded in the affirmative, with an expectant smile.
"Give me a pen.  The word is given.  Yes.  I accept the pardon.  Effective this date, the word 'pirate' is no longer applicable to Jack Wolfe."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Honour stood on the quarterdeck, continuing to stare at the English command ship as if she could will them to release her husband back to her.  It had been nearly two hours since Jack was taken aboard the other ship.  She could only imagine what Jack must be going through, and she tried hard not to.  Instead she focused on a prayer.  A prayer that he would be back soon and they'd soon be on their way homeward.  Also, she thought of little Zara sleeping peacefully in her crib, oblivious to the drama playing out with her father...

A gentle hand on her shoulder startled Honour out of her thoughts.

"Oh!  For goodness sake, Duckie, you scared me half to death!"
"I spoke your name three times, my dear," said the doctor.  "You were too lost in thought to notice."
"I'm sorry.  I was... preoccupied."
"Of course you were.  Anyone in their right mind would be."  Duckie paused a moment as he looked off at the English ships.  "Josiah stopped by to tell me what happened with the Navy lieutenant.  Damned infuriation, their timing."
"The fates themselves seem determined to keep Jack and me from any sort of peaceful, happy life," she said softly.  "I'm beginning to wonder if it really is too much to ask for?"
Duckie sighed as he continued looking at the warships.  He couldn't help but hear the undercurrent of despair in her voice.
"I can't think of anyone more deserving of a quiet, peaceful life than you, Jack, and Zara," he said, trying his best to reassure her.  "With as much as you've gone through, the struggles, the obstacles....  No, Honour.  Something good has to come out of this.  You deserve that 'happily ever after' you've been dreaming of."
"Then why does it feel like everything is slipping away?" Honour asked, her voice cracking as she blinked back tears.
Duckie turned toward her.  "Is it now?  Is it really?"
Honour gave him a puzzled look.
"All we know is that an impolite, ambitious young man in a uniform came to fetch Jack to talk with his superior.  Yes?"
"Yes, but he threatened to arrest Jack..."
"Did he?"
"No.  Jack agreed to go peacefully."
"The man Josiah described to me was self-important, imperious, and arrogant.  If he actually had the authority to arrest Jack, to humiliate him in front of his wife and crew, do you think he would have hesitated?"
Honour thought about Duckie's words, then shook her head.  "No, I think he would have jumped at the chance."
"Well, then," smiled Duckie.  "Things aren't so bleak after all, eh?"
"But what about the commander?" she asked.
Duckie took her hand and clasped it in his.  "Honour, Jack Wolfe is the most infuriatingly lucky man I've ever known.  Defying the odds is what he does best.  You've seen it yourself.  You've helped him beat the odds more than once.  And when he found you again, it was through..."
"A twist of fate," Honour said, and she began to smile.  "More of his dumb luck."
"I know why you worry so about losing him," he said gently.  "But when you think about it, our Jack is not an easy man to get rid of."
Honour's eyes went wide at his remark, and she couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"No, he really isn't!" she giggled, and for a few moments she was able to relax.  "You really believe everything will be all right?"
"Yes, but what I believe isn't important.  Do you believe everything will work out right?"
Honour looked out at the command ship once more.  "Yes," she said with quiet confidence.  "I know it will.  Jack is coming back to us.  He just has to.  I won't accept anything less."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Thomas shook his head in disbelief.  "If it was anyone else telling me the fantastical things, I'd think them mad."
"Which part?" asked Jack.  "The maze island, the scrolls, the idols?  I know it's hard to believe, but every last bit of it is true."
"That Honour took you back and you're a father of a little girl.  The island adventure is peanuts in comparison.  Even the voodoo woman can't hold a candle, pardon the pun."
"When did you get so cheeky?" said Jack.  He picked up the brandy bottle to pour them each another drink, but only a dribble came out.  "Bad news, admiral!  We sank this one too!"
"Not to worry," laughed Thomas.  He reached into a cabinet behind his desk and produced another bottle of rum.  "Plenty more where that came from."
"I know what you mean though, about Honour," said Jack while he waited for his brother to finish pouring.  "Her coming back into my life was the best thing that ever happened.  Well, almost the best thing.  Zara's the best thing."
"Mum would have loved her name.  But the offspring of you and the woman who could gentle you..."
"Thank you very much for not saying 'tamed'."
"Don't mention it.  You'll be domesticated soon enough."
"You had to remind me."
"You're welcome.  Anyway, I'll bet a month's wages she'll be a handful."
"Are you kidding?  She already is," Jack laughed.  "Just ask the ship's cat.  And the quartermaster."
"Off to an early start.  Not unlike her father."
"I was never that bad."
"Oh, weren't you?  I'm sure Prissy would beg to differ."
"What did I know?" protested Jack.  "I was four.  I was trying to make her tail longer."
"Terrier's aren't supposed to have long tails.  Poor thing ran around with hers curled up like a corkscrew the rest of her days!" laughed Thomas.
"Da was furious, I remember that.   I stuck to stretching the truth rather than dog's tails after that.  Safer for everyone."
"You were very good at it, too."
"Still am.  It's served me well over the years."

Thomas took another drink, then reached for the first parchment he'd read Jack.  He looked at it a moment and smiled, then pushed it across the desk.
"What's this?" asked Jack.
"That warrant I told you about.  I thought that whilst we're on the subject, you'd like to know just how long I've been holding on to this scrap of paper."
Jack picked it up and read the date in the upper left margin.  He looked at his brother in surprise.
"A year and a half?"
Thomas nodded.
"Then you had this when we met last year in Madeira!"
"And I would have told you about it.  If you hadn't drank me under the table, that is.  When I had my men look for you the next morning, you were already out to sea."
"I hate long goodbyes."
"Rubbish.  You suspected."
Jack gave a noncommittal shrug.  "You were asking an awful lot of questions."
"I had to see if the charges were true.  And you didn't disappoint.  Hell, you practically bragged!"
"Of course I bragged!  A lot of work went into all that."  He swirled his glass, then set it down on the desk.  "Would you really have arrested me?"
"Do you think I had a choice in the matter?"
"No.  That's why I drank you under the table."

Thomas gave Jack an exasperated look, then began to laugh.  "Well, I'm glad you did.  The last thing I wanted was to haul off my own brother in irons."
"Awkward for you, bloody miserable for me.  Not only am I grateful now for the pardon, but I'm grateful that you were such a lightweight back then.  I owe you."
"Yes, you do. There's only one thing I ask as repayment."
"What's that?"
"That you abide by the provisions of the pardon.  That the pirate Mad Jack Wolfe is laid to rest, never to be seen again."
Jack smiled and raised his glass.  "Done!"
Thomas clinked his glass against Jack's, and the two men downed their drinks.
"I still owe you, too," said Thomas.
"You do?  For what?"
"For drinking me under the table in Madeira.  Took me months to live that down with my men."
Jack smiled, and picked up the bottle.  "This is a celebration, I reckon.  Care for a rematch?" he asked as he held the mouth of the bottle over Thomas' glass.
"Pour," said Thomas.  "And keep pouring.  I'm winning this time."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

But the old one, she is still awake, when something else was said
You can say what you want, you silly old fool, there's a man in my daughter's bed
No rest, no peace could the old one get till she got up to see
But her foot gave a shot to the chamber pot, and into the creel fell she
Into the creel fell she...

The brothers burst into drunken laughter as they sang the last line.  Jack managed to get down another swallow of rum, and Thomas was ready to refill the glass the moment it hit the tabletop.
"Do you remember when Granddad Ian taught us that silly little song?" asked Jack.
"Of course I do!" said Thomas.  "It was the first time we'd ever tasted alcohol!  Remember when Mum came down to the mill house and found the three of us there, blind drunk and singing?"
Jack laughed and nodded.  "I'd never seen her so cross with anyone, much less her own father!  At least she was more angry with him than with us.  Though not by much."
"Granddad Ian had a talent for getting in trouble."
"That's what I admired most about him."
Thomas began laughing again.  "Da was no help to her mood, was he?"
"He tried so hard to act all angry and disappointed with us!  We stood there giggling like fools.  But I thought Mum would take the rolling pin to his head after he started laughing too!"
"She never let him live that down, either," chuckled Thomas.  He finished his glass and poured another.  "Come on, you!  Get to drinking!  I'll not have you do all the talking whilst I drink.  That's what got me in trouble last time."
Jack picked up his glass.  "Ah, you've got me sussed!  Damn!  I'm no match for the admiral."
"Bloody right, and don't you forget it!"

A crisp knock came at the door, and Thomas rolled his eyes.
"All right, what is it?" he shouted.
The door opened, and a man on officer's dress stepped smartly into the cabin.
"Here to report the change of watch, sah!"
"Yes, yes, very good, Master Griffin," said Thomas dismissively.  "Oh, Master Griffin, this is my brother, Captain Jack Wolfe.  Jack, this is Griffin, my boatswain."
"Cheers, mate," slurred Jack.
Griffin gave a polite nod.  "How do, sah.  Can I get the admiral anything?"
"No, no, Griff.  We're good here.  You're dismissed."
Griffin gave a quick salute, turned on his heel, and left the cabin.

"Nice of them to tell you when the watch changes," said Jack.  Suddenly, his expression changed.  "Wait a minute!  He said the watch changed?"
"Yeah, what of it?"
"Bloody hell!" Jack cried.  "We've been at this at least four hours??  Honour must be beside herself with worry!  We've got to get back to El Lobo!"
"Wait, what do you mean, we?"
"I'm not doing all the explanation on this one, brother mine.  If I have to face the music, so do you.  Besides, it will get you aboard my ship, and we'll have dinner there.  One big happy family.  If Honour is still talking to me after this."
Thomas shrugged.  "It's only fair, I suppose.  Now quit panicking.  We'll finish our drinks first."
"Thomas, did you hold any hope to make a good impression when you met Honour?"
"Of course I do!  She's part of the family now, such as it is."
"Well, you're starting from a deficit," said Jack.
"Hold on now, you're as much to blame as I am!"
"She'll be angriest with me, but you're the older brother and should have known better.  Don't bother sorting her reasons, she comes from a family of sisters that watch out for one another.  We'd best put down the shovels and start climbing out of this hole."
"Mum would have liked her.  She's got your number, this one," laughed Thomas.
"Moreover, she's got my heart.  That's why damage control matters.  Let's go."

Jack tried to stand, but dizziness overtook him and he plopped back into his chair.
"Oof, my head!  I guess I'm out of practice."
"If you hadn't told me about Honour and Zara before we started drinking, I'd say you were trying to weasel out of the contest.  But I suppose you're right, we shouldn't keep her waiting."  Thomas gave his brother a wary look.  "She'll be that upset with us?  Really?"
"Thomas, think about it.  She believes her husband has been taken into custody by the Royal... sorry, Commonwealth's navy, probably to get hauled off to prison in England, and nothing has happened in over four hours to show her any different.  While she's been worrying, we've been reminiscing and drinking far past our fill.  Do you think she'll be terribly happy seeing us in this shape?  A Spanish armada would be far more forgiving, and rightly so."
Jack and Thomas traded worried looks for a few moments as Thomas thought about what his brother had said.  Simultaneously, the two men grabbed their glasses and downed the contents in only a couple gulps.
"There, just the courage I needed," said Thomas.  He sat up straight, tugged on his waistcoat to smooth the wrinkles, and unceremoniously slid from his chair onto the deck.
"Merde," sighed Jack as he looked under the desk at his soused brother, who lay there giggling.  "Round two goes to me.  Now let's get you up and sorted.  They won't let me off this ship without your say so, and I'm not facing Honour without you as an alibi."
"You mean a scapegoat," said Thomas, his statement punctuated with a hiccup.
"Fine, split hairs if you must."
"Jack?"
"Yes?"
"I lost again, didn't I?"
"Yes.  But not by much.  Can you stand?"
"Maybe.  Are you going to help me if I try?"
"Of course!  Give me your hand."

Jack took hold of Thomas' hand and helped the admiral to his feet.
"Now no fair dropping me," slurred Thomas.
"I promise, I won't drop you.  Now, one foot in front of the other... that's it!  I'll grab your justaucorp.  Well done!  Almost to the door...  let me open it so we can both get out."
Jack took his hand off Thomas to open the cabin door.  The moment the door swung open, Thomas collapsed in a heap, face down on the deck.
"LIAR!" he yelled.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let you fall!  Are you all right?" asked Jack.
"God, this deck needs a good scrubbing."
Jack looked heavenward and shook his head.  "A navy officer who can't hold his rum.  This is going to be harder than I thought."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Meanwhile, aboard El Lob del Mar...

Honour finished off the last bit of brandy in her glass, and wiped a tear from her eye as she set the glass down.
"Feeling a little better?" asked Duckie.
Honour sniffled.  "Yes, a bit.  I feel so foolish for crying like that up on deck.  I should be stronger."
"Nonsense," said Duckie.  "This is a stressful situation.  No one is expecting you to sit on your emotions.  Stoicism is overrated."
"May I have some more brandy, please?"
Duckie poured another half glass for her, and she took a sip.
"It was so sweet of Eli, offering to watch after Zara for a bit," she continued.  "I never knew he came from such a large family."
"He's really is a good lad, even for a Catholic," he said with a chuckle.  Honour had to  hold back laughing until she could swallow her brandy.  "And he's worked hard to redeem himself in Jack's eyes."
"Very hard," she agreed.  "I know Jack hasn't said anything, but he really does think the world of Eli.  So does Briggs."
"In his own gruff way, of course.  But it does my heart good to see it."  Duckie looked on as Honour finished her glass.
"Do go easy, my dear," he admonished.
Honour picked up the decanter and refilled her glass.  "Oh, I'm fine.  Please don't worry.  It just tastes so good, and it's helping calm my nerves.  Remember, I've been able to drink Jack under the table more than once."
"Yes, before you had Zara.  Things change..."
"I promise to be careful, Duckie.  You worry so!"

Duckie started to say something else, but reconsidered.  Honour was probably right, he thought.  Perhaps he was being overly sensitive because of Rose.  And Jack wasn't the only man she'd been able to out-drink in her day.  In retrospect, even Rose wouldn't stand a chance.  He smiled, and refilled his own glass.
"I'd be less than a gentleman if I let you drink alone," he said.
"The company is welcome," she said.  "Duckie, do you really think everything will be all right?  I mean, nearly six hours and no word...  No idea whether or not Jack is safe..."
"Now, now, Honour.  Don't get yourself worked up again.  Keep in mind, there is one thing above all else the Navy is ruthlessly efficient at."
She hesitated for a moment, then with a hint of worry in her voice asked, "And that is?"
"Protocol."
Honour giggled at the joke, appreciative of his attempt to help allay her fears.  Smiling, she had another sip.
"If it's not signed, notarised, delegated, and properly saluted," he continued, "they won't act on it.  I think that's what most attracted Jack to piracy.  The almost Utopian lack of paperwork."
"Dreams of wealth had little to do with it?" she joked.
"It certainly didn't hurt.  Nor did his success.  As happy as he was a a pirate, I can tell you he's much happier now."  Duckie raised his glass.  "Testament to the positive things the love of a good woman can bring."

Honour blushed a little.  "Duckie, you're such a kind and gentle man.  You always know just what to say and how to sayoit.  How is it you're not married?"
A melancholy smile came over his face, and her breath caught for a moment.
"I'm sorry!" she said quickly.  "That wasn't my place to ask."
"No, that's quite all right," he said softly.  "Heaven knows you've told me, shall we say, uncomfortable things about your past.  Quid pro quo is only appropriate.  But you'll forgive me if I have a bit more brandy first."
Honour took his glass and refilled it, and topped hers off as well.  She still felt embarrassed about asking him such a personal question.  But she couldn't help being intrigued.
Duckie took a long sip, then gave a heavy sigh. "Emily.  Emily Parker.  She was the love of my life.  We met my last year at university, at a Christmas party.  I courted her three years before managing to work up enough nerve to ask her to marry me."  He chuckled and shook his head."
"And... what did she say?"
"I'll never forget.  She said, "Please pardon my French, Drake Gander, but it's about damned time!'  You can imagine my shock.  I'd never heard her swear before!"
Honour laughed appreciatively.  "But she said yes?"
"Oh yes!" laughed Duckie.  "I'm surprised she didn't drag me off to the magistrate's that night."
"Well, it's been known to happen!" giggled Honour.
"I would have done it, too," said Duckie wistfully.  "I was so in love with her."  He paused to take a drink.
"You still are," thought Honour.  The tone of his voice said it all.  Her heart went out to him.  Though lessened now, it was a pain she knew too well.
"Anyway, our parents made sure we had the requisite big church wedding.  Six months later, I was made the offer of starting a practice in the burgeoning colony of Barbados.  The opportunity was good and the money even better.  It was to be our big adventure, building our life together in the New World.  So we made the journey, I started my practice, and we got a little flat that would be our first home.  But it didn't turn out the way we'd hoped."

Honour's brow furrowed with concern.  "What happened?  What went wrong?"
Duckie sighed again and took another drink of brandy.  "Emily became homesick.  Terribly so.  She was depressed and miserable, and I was under contract to practice in Barbados for at minimum of two years.  If I broke the contract, I would have been thrown in gaol for up to five years.  So my choice was lose Emily, or lose Emily and my freedom.  I stayed on in Barbados, and Emily went back home to England.  Two months later, I received a divorce decree."
"I'm so sorry, Duckie.  That had to have been awful!"
"It was!"  He looked into his glass as he swirled the amber liquid around.  "So like any proper Englishman, I crawled into a bottle and vowed never to come out.  We're very good at slowly destroying ourselves."
"You're here now, though.  And this is the first I've heard to speak of her.  What changed?"
Duckie laughed and pointed up.  "That husband of yours.  That's what happened.  Him, and another gentleman you knew."
Honour's face began to go pale.  "No..."
"Yes, Honour.  None other than Rhys Morgan."
As she sat there speechless, Duckie refilled his glass.
"Did Jack ever tell you about what happened between him and that devil, Colonel Mendoza?"
Honour shook her head.  "Not really, and I didn't press.  Briggs told me Jack had been held captive and tortured.  Rhys told me a little more, but he made it sound like he helped in a simple jailbreak.  But I knew there had to be more to it than that."
"Then let me tell you a story, my dear, of some incredibly heroic men lead by the brave Welshman, Rhys Morgan.  Amazing people, you Welsh.  Never underestimate a Celt, I say!  Now here's what really happened..."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack struggled to help Thomas down the long companionway to the weather deck.  Though Thomas was still conscious, he could barely put one foot in front of the other.  Jack's condition was better, though not significantly.
"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Thomas asked.
"Your ship, so you tell me," replied Jack.  "I'm pretty sure that since this corridor runs from the weather deck to your cabin, and your cabin is behind us...  what do you think?"
"Huh?  I'm sorry, Jack.  I wasn't paying attention."
"Fine warrior of the Commonwealth you turned out to be."
"Don't get snotty with me!" complained Thomas.  "It's not my fault the Commonwealth didn't teach me how to drink like a...  well..."
Jack stopped and looked at his brother.  "Yes?  A what?"
Thomas leaned his face toward Jack with a defiant air.  "A pirate.  There.  I said it."
"You wanna see snotty?" said Jack.  "Here's snotty."
Jack let go of Thomas and took a quick step back.  Thomas wobbled, stumbled against the bulkhead, then collapsed to the deck.
"Stop doing that!" Thomas bellowed.
"Apologise."
Thomas remained silent.
"Apologise," said Jack, "or I tell your crew you handle your liquor like a little girl."
"You wouldn't dare."
"I'm thinking aged ten or eleven, a frilly dress, pigtails..."
Thomas still kept quiet.
"... a dolly with pink yarn for hair..."
"All right, all right!  I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry... what?"
"I'm sorry, captain."
Jack paused for a moment.  "Hold on, I think I just let you pull rank on me."
"Damn straight I did.  Now help me up."
Jack reached down and hooked his hands under Thomas' arms, and lifted him to his feet.  Thomas then turned and poked Jack in the chest.
"You know, you're pretty damned lucky to have me for a brother."
"You're right.  I am, and I love you dearly.  Even if you can be a royal pain in the arse."
"Sssshhhh!  Don't say 'royal' aboard a Commonwealth ship.  They get touchy about that sort of thing."
"When are Roundheads not touchy about something?"
"Sundays.  Then they're just morose."
"Yeah, the Puritans and their sense of humour.  Church will do that to you, which is why I avoid it at all costs.  Now, come on.  Let's get you out into the air.  It'll clear your head."
"What about you?"
"I'll be there, too.  Who's helping you along?  Unless you'd rather crawl."
"Walk, please."
"There's a lad.  Now shift!"

Jack squinted into the sunlight as they stumbled onto the weather deck.
"Why's it so bright?" groaned Thomas.
"Um, it's daylight?
"Ah.  It's pretty.  They should do this more often."
"Admiral on deck!" a crewman shouted.  Instantly, every crewman who was able snapped to attention.  The others, who were hauling lines or in the rigging, went about their business.  Thomas did his best to stand up straight and look like an officer.
"As you were!" he ordered.  Except that in his state, it sounded more like "Azzoowhirr."
Jack cringed.  There would be no hiding his brother's state.  Hopefully no one would ask questions...
"And just what is going on here?" a voice from behind them asked suspiciously. 
Jack cringed again.  "Bollocks," he muttered.
Thomas turned and looked at the owner of the voice.  "Gavin!  Hello there Gavin!  Jack!  Meet Gavin Stewart, my first officer.  Gavin, this is my brother, Jack.  Captain Wolfe, I should say."
Stewart gave a short, curt bow and touched the brim of his hat.  Jack smiled in response, not daring to loosen his grip on his brother's coat.
"'Allo," was all he could think to say.  He fought the urge to cringe again.
"A pleasure to meet you, Captain Wolfe," replied Stewart.  Jack didn't care much for the man's inflection.  "I've heard - and read - a good deal about you."
"Have you now?" said Jack.  "I'm flattered."
"You shouldn't be."
"Tough hop, Stewie," snipped Jack.  "I am."
"In all your reading, Gavin,"said Thomas, managing to muster up an authoritative tone, "surely you saw the letter of pardon we were to extend my brother?"
Stewart pursed his lips a moment.  "Aye, Admiral.  I remember it."
"Good!  'Cause he accepted!  Isn't that great?"
Jack gave the first officer a smug grin.  "We were celebrating."
"Obviously," sniffed Stewart.
"And now we're going over to my brother's ship to celebrate a little more," Thomas said merrily.  "I'll be staying over for dinner as well.  And, I get to meet my sister-in-law and my niece!"
"Speaking of which," interrupted Jack, "We'd best get moving.  Honour will be worried sick."
"Oh, you're right!  We've inconvenienced her enough for one day.  Mister Stewart!  Have the men lower the boat!  We've some rowing to do."
"Admiral, with all due respect," said Stewart, "I can't permit you to go aboard another ship, especially a pirate ship..."
"EX-pirate ship," interjected Jack.
"... an unknown ship without proper escort.  Especially, sir, in your condition.  Article Twelve, section--"
"Yes, section blah-blah, paragraph whatever: 'No flag officer shall have one moment's enjoyment unless accompanied by a bloody nanny or three.'  I know the regulations, Gavin, thank you," sighed Thomas.
"I'll assign four men to go with your, sir," Stewart said quickly.
"Two."
"Admiral, I must insist!"
Thomas shook his head, then blinked a few times while he waited for the dizziness to pass.  "Two men, no more.  End of discussion."
"I'll take good care of the Admiral," Jack said.  "He's my brother, after all.  It's not like I'd make him a hostage.  That would violate the terms of my pardon.  Besides, I don't enjoy his company that much."
"I'd make a good hostage!" Thomas protested.
Jack tightened his grip on the back of Thomas' coat.  "Come along now!  We're terribly overdue.  And I don't want Honour feeling the need to display her skills with a rapier."
Thomas' eyes went wide.  "She's that good?"
"Positively devastating."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Stewart gave the order, and the boat was lowered into the water.  He selected two able crewman, and instructed them to help the admiral into the boat, no matter how much he protested.
"WAIT!" Thomas shouted.
"What's wrong?" asked Jack.
"My hat!  I can't attend a dinner function, especially this one, out of uniform.  I simply must have my hat!"
Jack rolled his eyes.  "All right, all right!  Prop yourself up on this barrel, and I'll go get it."
"I've got a crew for that, Jack.  Stewart!"
"Aye, sir?"
"I almost forgot my dress hat.  Have one of the men fetch it."
"Right away, Admiral."  Stewart whistled sharply, and ordered one of the men to quickly retrieve the admiral's showiest hat.  The first officer took a bit of hope in this display of decorum.
"Thanks, Gavin!" Jack smiled.  "Love a Roundie!"
Stewart gave him a look usually reserved for something left behind in the street by a horse, then went back to watching the men work.
Jack's smile faded as he realised his joke had fallen flat.  "Y'know...  'Roundy', Roundhead...  love a...  Oh, forget it.  Blimey.  Try to make a Puritan laugh..."

Mercifully, the crewman reappeared just then with Thomas' hat.
"You've got to be kidding me," said Jack.
"Like it?" asked Thomas proudly as he took his hat from the crewman and put it on his head just so.
"What's to, I mean, what's not to like?  It's... big."
He stared in amazement at the oversized black bicorn.  It had trim of red braid that matched Thomas' coat, and an over-abundance of snow-white feathers erupting from the middle of it that made him look like some sort of strange crested red sea bird.  Jack tried desperately not to laugh
Thomas gave him a puzzled look.  "Something the matter?"
"No, no, nothing is wrong!  Nothing a pot of boiling water couldn't fix."
"A what?"
Jack shook his head.  "Never mind.  Time to get in the boat, your admiralship!  Over the side with you!"
The two men assigned to watch over Thomas unrolled a rope ladder over the side, and helped him down into the boat.  It quickly became apparent that Jack could expect no such assistance.
"At least they left the ladder down for me.  That's something," he grumbled.

Five minutes later, the boat was en route to El Lobo.  As the two sailors pulled on the oars, Jack found him staring at his brother's preposterous hat.
"I can't help but notice how you've been admiring my hat," Thomas said with an air of pride.  "I bought it in Sardinia.  Makes a bold statement with the uniform, doesn't it?"
"I'll say," agreed Jack.  "It positively screams 'I got fleeced in Sardinia'!"
Thomas looked at him in shock.  "Bugger off!  You're just jealous."
"Thomas, have you taken a good look at that thing?  It looks like a Frenchman and a Roman had their way with an albatross, then made a hat out of it!  I couldn't be jealous of that thing if I caught it unbuttoning Honour's chemise.  More likely I'd take a club to it."
"Well, if you thought it so ridiculous, why didn't you say something back on the ship?" demanded a flustered Thomas.
"Because I didn't want to make fun of you in front of your entire crew."
"What about these two?  They're my crew!"
"Yes, but it's much easier to make two men's life a living hell for breathing a word of this than a whole ship's complement."

Thomas sat there in the boat, slump-shouldered and sullen.  After a few minutes, he looked at Jack and asked, "It's really that bad?"
"No," said Jack.  "It looks fine.  If you enjoy looking like you're giving refuge to a flock of fugitive seagulls.  Or if you're impersonating an Incan god."
Thomas glared at his brother, then pulled the hat off his head and plopped it onto the bench beside him.
"There!  Better?"
Jack quit chuckling and shook his head.  "I'm sorry, Thomas!  I was just having you on, I swear.  It's a good hat!  A fine hat, really!  You carry a lot of responsibility, and a big hat suits your role."
"You're not lying to me just to make me feel better?"
"Do you really think I would lie about lying to you?"
"Yeah, I do."
"All right, fair enough.  I guess I never will live down that time with Tessa and the weed bouquet I talked you into giving her.  But I'm serious, the hat is fine.  I like it.  And Honour will, too."
Thomas smiled broadly.  "Thanks, Jack.  I appreciate that."

Briggs pulled down the perspective glass and smiled to himself.
"Eli!  Pass the word!  They've put a boat in the water, and it's comin' this way!"
"Aye, Mister Briggs!  Is Cap'n Wolfe aboard?"
Briggs looked through the glass once more.  "That he is, lad!  Lookin' healthy and hale!"
"I'll let his missus know he's on the way home to her!" said Eli.
"He's got company with him.  Two sailors, an officer, and...  um..."
"And what?"
"Unless me eyes be lyin', I think it's a... a chicken?"
"A chicken?"
"Aye.  And an odd, skinny one at that."
Eli shrugged.  "We could use the eggs."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

The longboat sidled up to El Lobo, staying just far enough away to keep their hulls from rubbing and sending the boat's occupants tumbling into the sea.
"Ahoy the ship!" called Jack.  "Captain Wolfe and esteemed guest to come aboard!"
Jack passed the rum bottle off behind his back to Thomas, who polished it off.  Thomas then put on his hat and struggled to his feet.  Jack cast a quick glance back at his brother.
"You all right?"
Thomas made a strange face, belched, then gave a thumbs up.
"Right as rain, then," chuckled Jack.  "Lines, please, gentlemen?" he called up.  "We're not getting any younger, and I want to see my wife!"
Two lines, one fore and one aft, unspooled from El Lobo into the boat.  The sailors quickly grabbed them and tied off the boat.  A rope ladder unrolled down the ship's side.  Jack leaned back a little and caught the last rung as it bobbed in front of his face.
When he looked up, he saw Honour looking down at him.
"It's about time you came straggling home!  I've been waiting!" she shouted.
"I'm sorry, love!  But I've brought good news.  And an important guest!" he replied.
"Less talking, more climbing!" she hollered back.
"Somebody's in trouble," said Thomas in a sing-song voice.
"Oh, stuff it, would you?"  Jack looked over his shoulder as he started to climb.  "I'm not the only one in hot water, remember?  Now, you and that hat get climbing.  I'm hoping that will be a suitable distraction."
"Right!  A grand entrance should flatter her enough, won't it?"
"Uh, of course!  Just what I was getting at!" answered Jack.  "... and doubling over in laughter is her way of showing she's flattered," he thought.

When Jack's boots hit the deck, he looked up to see Honour standing roughly ten feet away, with an odd look on her face and Zara in her arms.  He thought about her expression for a few moments.  His face brightened as the answer came to him.
"Ah!  I know that face!" he said cheerily, slurring his words far worse than he intended.  He cleared his throat before going further, buying time to think carefully about his enunciation.  "That's your 'there'd better be a hell of a good explanation for all this' face!  Am I right?"
Honour took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly as she nodded.  "And is there?"
Jack felt a sudden lump in his throat.  She was upset, and with good reason, just as he feared.  Even Zara seemed to be staring at him accusingly.
"Aye!  A very good reason!  Let me introduce him to you.  He...  Hold on, he should have been up here by now..."

He looked over the side to see what was taking Thomas so long.  There was Thomas, just out of sight from those on deck below the gunwale.
He wasn't moving.
"Oi!  What's the matter?" Jack whispered.
"I'm.... too dizzy," muttered Thomas.  "Too much rum.  Can't climb anymore."
"Bollocks," grumbled Jack as he leaned over the gunwale.  "All right, I'm gonna grab the collar of your coat and hoist you up.  On the count of three.  You ready?"
He looked back at Honour with a nervous grin.  She responded with an arched eyebrow.
"Honour Wolfe, may I present to you..." 
He paused and looked back to Thomas.
"Here we go.  One."
"Unh- uh."
"Two."
"Jack, I'm not..."
"Three!"  Jack pulled hard on Thomas' coat, but Thomas didn't budge.  Jack's hand slipped off the collar, caught the back of the bicorn, and flung it high into the air.  It made a slow, tumbling arc up over the side of the ship.  Jack stood quickly and managed to catch the hat  as it fell into his hands.  He looked down at the hat with surprise, then over at Honour.
"If you think I'm going to wear that thing, or let you wear it," she said with a determined tone, "you've lost your mind.  Again.  I'll shoot it first.  Then feed it to the cat."
"Just wait!" he said quickly.  "There's more this hat than just a hat.  There's a whole person that goes with it...  bollocks!"
"Bolx!" echoed Zara loudly.  Honour's eyes went wide.  She heard some of the crewmen laugh, which made her face burn hot.  Even Briggs gave a chuckle, until a sharp look from her made him fall silent.
"I'm not making sense," Jack continued in frustration.  "Eli!  Here, hold this."
Jack stepped over to Eli and plopped the hat on the young man, then quickly went back to the gunwale.  The hat was far too large for Eli's head, and it fell down and covered his face right to the end of his nose. 
Zara clapped and squealed with delight.  "Birdie!" she exclaimed.
Eli took it all in stride by pushing the hat back on his head and making funny faces at Zara. 

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Honour ordinarily would have laughed at the scene, but she was already too upset with Jack.  Now she was mortified Zara swore in front of other people, mimicking her father when she had warned him of this very thing happening.  Add to all that he was obviously drunk, and her temper was at the breaking point.  She watched, doing a slow burn, as he reached over the gunwale and hauled up a man in Navy finery.  He looked a little older than Jack, but maybe that was from him being even drunker than her husband.  The man wobbled as Jack straightened his coat, then retrieved the hat from Eli and put it back on his head, more or less straight.
"May I introduce to you the right honourable Admiral Thomas Wolfe!" announced Jack with a flourish.
"Which one is Honour?" Thomas asked softly.
"That would be the only woman you can see."
"Oh!  Right!"  Thomas stood up as straight as he possibly could and flashed a ridiculously huge grin.  "It is indeed a pleasure to finally meet you, Honour!  And please accept my sincerest apology for the way we detained your ship and slowed your journey home."  With that, he doffed his hat and make a sweeping bow.  As he straightened up, he fumbled his hat.  It went flying, only to land at Honour's feet.
Honour sighed, and handed Zara to Briggs.  "I'll only be a moment."
She picked up the hat and dusted it off as she walked to Thomas.  He and Jack both visibly braced themselves, since she was not smiling.
"Thank you for the apology, Admiral.  Welcome aboard my ship.  I do believe this is yours?"  Honour handed the hat back to him, then turned to Jack.
"You had me worried to death," she said quietly.
"I'm sorry, Honour, really I am!" Jack said quickly.  "Thomas and I were celebrating!  You see, he delivered a pardon from the Commonwealth, and I accepted."
"A pardon?" she said with a smile.
"A full pardon.  No strings.  Do you realise what that means for us?  No more running, no more---"
Jack was cut short as Honour grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him hard.
"I'm so glad you're happy!" he said breathlessly.  "I was afraid you'd be more angry with me."
Honour's smile took a decidedly sinister turn.  "Oh, don't worry.  I am."
"W-what?" stammered Jack.
Her explanation came as a strong right cross that turned Jack's legs to jelly.  As he sank to the deck, Honour turned on her heel and marched back to a wide-eyed Briggs.
"Feelin' better, are ye?" he asked tentatively.
"A little," she said as she took Zara from him.  Looking over at her kneeling husband, she said, "I'll be in our quarters when you find your feet again.  Don't make me wait."  And on that note she strolled from the deck, talking quietly to Zara as she did so.

"Are you all right?" asked Thomas.
Jack worked his jaw.  "I think so."  The world was gradually coming back into focus, and he slowly got to his feet.
"That went pretty well, didn't it?"
Jack gave him an incredulous look.  "Did you see what just happened?"
Thomas shrugged.  "It could have been worse."
"HOW?"
"She could have hit me, too."
Jack rolled his eyes.  "Mister Briggs here will see to your needs.  Now that the orchestra has warmed up, it's time to face the music.  Just stay out of trouble, please?"
"Be careful.  She has a mean right."
"Thanks.  I'll keep that in mind."
With that, Jack began the long walk back to his cabin.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack knocked softly on the cabin door.
"It isn't locked," he heard Honour say.  There was no heat in her voice.  She sounded more disappointed than anything.  He worked his jaw again, certain that it would be plenty sore once the rum wore off.  He took a deep breath, then opened the door.
Honour was standing over Zara's crib with her back to the door, adjusting the little girl's bedclothes.
"That was fast.  I should have hit you harder," she said without looking up.
"You hit me plenty hard.  And I deserved it."
"You're damned right you did," said Honour, a bit more heat coming into her voice now.  She turned and looked at him.  Jack could see the tears begin to well.  "Jack, I waited.  And waited.  And waited.  Only to find out you were knocking them back with your brother?  I thought they'd arrested you.  I thought..."  She paused to wipe a tear that had trailed down her cheek.  "I thought I'd lost you.  Once again, I thought I'd lost you."
Jack walked to her and gently put his arms around her.
"I'm sorry, Honour.  I truly am.  But I'm right here.  I promised I'd never leave you, and I'm keeping that promise."
As he pulled her closer, she put her hands on his chest and braced.  "Don't hold me like that!" she protested.  "Not when I'm mad at you!"
"Afraid you can't trust yourself?"
"I didn't hit you hard enough up there," she said, giving him an irritated look.  She shifted her weight on her feet subtly.  "But I can hit you down there and make it count."
Jack smiled at her.  "I'm a pardoned man, Honour.  Pardoned of my crimes.  I'm free!  We're free!"
She let out an exasperated sigh.  "Damn you, Jack Wolfe!  You're going to make me waste a good mad."
"Nowhere in our wedding vows does it say you get to try to loosen my teeth more once a day."
"Nowhere in our wedding vows does it say we have to make love more than once a year, either."
Jack gave her a wide-eyed look, then tilted his chin up and closed his eyes tight.  "Hit me twice then.  And be wearing that pretty blue dressing gown when I wake up?  I'd call that fair."

Honour slapped his chest with the flat of her hand before relaxing into his embrace.  She laid her head against him and sighed.
"A full pardon?" she asked quietly.
"Signed by Cromwell himself.  Full, with no strings.  Well, one really big string.  That I not practice piracy any more, a pledge I'd already sworn to you.  But this makes it official on all sides."
She looked up at him.  "No more running?  Ever?"
"No more running.  Ever," he smiled.
She kissed him tenderly, then laid her head on his chest again.  It felt like the last, awful weight had been lifted from her.  They really could have that simple, normal life together that she had dreamt of now.
"I'm sorry for punching you," she said.
Jack chuckled.  "No you're not!"
"You're right, I'm not," she giggled.
"Another shot like that, and I'd be fighting Zara for the mashed peas and carrots.  I'd probably throw them just as much, too."  He stroked her hair as she giggled.

"I really am sorry for worrying you."
She looked up at him, her expression far softer than when he'd come into the room.  "I know you are, Jack.  I'm just... I'm scared of losing you, is all.  After my father, Rhys, our problems... I can't bear it.  And then to find out from Duckie how we very nearly never met..." 
Jack could hear in her voice the tears threatening to come.
"He told you about that, did he?"
Honour nodded.  "You made is sound like you'd been jailed and mistreated, not imprisoned and tortured by a madman.  That you almost died, more than once."
"Ancient history, love.  I didn't think it mattered."
"Everything about you matters, Jack.  Absolutely everything.  And don't you ever think any different."
Jack raised an eyebrow at her vehemence, but his smile remained.  "Why, yes ma'am!  I take it that is indeed a standing order?"
"That's exactly what it is.  And while we're on the subject of standing orders, here's another one."
"I'm starting to really miss being captain..."
"Hush.  I'm talking.  Now, that gutter mouth of yours.  It stops, here and now."
"Yes, Honour, I promise I'll try harder to--"
"No, it stops.  Especially in front of Zara.  Apparently she said it when she dropped her rabbit whilst Eli was watching her.  Just because she's the daughter of a sailor..."
"Ah!  A captain."
"... especially a captain, it doesn't mean she should swear like a common tar.  She's still in diapers, for goodness sake."
"We Wolfes are early bloomers."
"Maybe so, but I need you to take this seriously."  Honour looked at him, her sky blue eyes soft and wide.  "Please?  For me?"
"That's not fair.  You know I can't resist the doe eyes."
She continued to look at him with the same expression.
"All right, all right!  I'll do a much better job of censoring myself, especially around Zara."
She smiled and hugged him.  "Thank you!  I knew you'd see it my way."
"You mean cave in."
"Same difference."
"At least you were trying to get me to go to church..."
"I'm going easy on you," she said as she neatened the collar of his shirt.  "We'll talk about that once we're settled in Barbados.  Feeling henpecked yet?"
"If it feels the same as being run roughshod over, then yes.  A little."
"You're a big boy.  You can take it."
Jack gave her a resigned look with a half smile.  Honour smiled softly, then kissed him.
"I'm just teasing, Jack.  I'd never really try to henpeck.  You know I love you."
Jack couldn't help but return her smile.  "I know you do.  As I love you."
She gave him an impish wink.  "Now, twenty-five years from now, I can't guarantee anything about henpecking."
"I'll take my chances, Mrs. Wolfe!" he laughed.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the ship....

"Ugh," said Thomas.  "Why do I let him do this to me?"
"What's that, Admiral?" asked Briggs.
"Jack.  He gets me blind drunk whenever meet.  And please, call me Thomas."
Briggs smiled and nodded.  "Ol' Jack can have that effect on a person, true enough.  Gets ye doin' things and thinkin' in ways ye never believed ye would.  Most times for the better."
"The hallmark of a leader.  That's good," said Thomas with woozy pride.  "Tell me, though, has he learned the art of planning?  He never was very good at it."
"Of all the things Jack Wolfe knows, plannin' ain't one of 'em.   Why, I recall a time where we was in one hell of a mess.  Puerta del Gato, they called it, on some godforsaken spit of land.  Anyway, there we were.  Spaniards on one side, savages on the other.  Headhunters, we figure.  No way to get to our boat without exposin' ourselves to both sides.  I turn to Jack and I ask him if he's got a plan.  Well, he kinda mumbles something and starts rummagin' about in a rucksack where we kept extra shot and powder.  I ask him again what be his plan, and I remember his answer like it was yesterday:  'A plan?  Yes.  Well, no.  More of a thing, really, but it's like a plan.  It's still cooking.  Let's hope it's a good thing that turns into a plan.'"
Thomas laughed out loud.  "That's my brother!  Improvisation to the end.  Though it sounds like he's gotten worse about it."
"Aye!  And it gets better," Briggs continued.  "He digs a grenado out of the sack.  He yanks the cork plug out of it, fuse and all, and dumps its innards onto part of the sack he'd flattened out.  Quick as can be, he flicks away the iron shot and scoops all the powder he can back into the grenado.  Then he takes the last of our powder and tops the thing off.  He rams the plug back in, then tells me to hold tight. 'Where are ye goin'?', I asks him.  'To say goodbye,' says he."
"What good is a grenado with no shrapnel?"
"That's what I was thinkin'.  Aside from thinkin' he'd finally lost what few marbles he has left.  So anyways, he goes about thirty feet or thereabouts deeper into the brush.  All this time, the Spaniards and cannibals are drawin' closer to our hidin' place.  Then I hear some loud clicks.  There's Jack, snappin' his pistol for a spark to light the fuse.  Finally he gets it lit."
"Which side does he throw it at?"
Briggs' expression became serious.  "Neither."
"What??"
"Just what I was thinkin'!  The daft bugger sits there, starin' at the fuse as it burned.  Not hint as to what he's up to, neither.  But then, as the fuse is right about to reach the plug, he stands up, lets loose with a war whoop that would curdle yer Aunt Sally's blood, and throws the grenado high in the air back toward the jungle."
Thomas was trying hard to follow the story through an alcohol haze, but Briggs was in his element and took no notice that his audience was struggling.
"And then," Briggs continued, ".... KABLAM!!!  A big cloud of smoke and flame erupts in the air.  Then I hear the Spaniards and indians yellin' their heads off.  Well, I'm sittin' there starin' slack-jawed, when I see Jack burst out of the brush right in front of me.  But did he stop to let me in on his unfoldin' plan?  Hell no!  Right like the wind, he runs past me."
"Obviously you took the hint and followed him," said Thomas.
"Never got the chance!  Before I could gather me wits enough, Jack had me by the collar and jerked me to my feet.  It was run of fall down at that point, so I chose run.  And run we did, straight for the boat.  We shoved off and rowed like Ol' Hob himself was about to swallow us up.  That's when I seen what he'd done with that grenado.  Ye see, the Spanish and headhunters figured we were launchin' an attack, so they took off into the jungle after us!  By the time it dawned on 'em we weren't there, we were too far out of their range."
"A diversion!" said Thomas.  "You have to admit, it was a good idea."
"Aye, it saved our necks!  But that's Jack.  Always comin' up with some harebrained scheme with next to nothin' on hand, and he makes it work.  The worse the odds are, the better he likes it.  I swear, he could fix a busted up ship with a kettle and some string.  But tell ye what he's up to whilst he's doin' it?  Not a chance.  Some say he's crazy, or was 'til Honour straightened him up.  But I say he thinks too fast to waste time tryin' to explain what he's up to.  Jump in and make the impossible happen, that's Jack Wolfe." 

Briggs got a far away look, and his smile slowly faded.  "I'm gonna miss times like that somethin' fierce."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Briggs gazed out over the ocean, thinking of all the adventures he and Jack had experienced together, and of all the adventures that would never be.  It hadn't seemed real to him until now.  He had never let himself entertain the thought that his time on the Account was near its end.  But it was real, and Josiah Briggs couldn't help but feel empty inside.  Lost.  He gave a heavy, melancholy sigh before turning his attention back to Jack's brother, Thomas.

Only Thomas wasn't there.

Briggs looked around the deck, searching for the missing admiral.  That's when he heard a moan coming from the other side of the crates Thomas had been sitting on.  He peered over them and found the admiral lying flat on his back shielding his eyes from the light.
"Thomas?"
"Uhhhhnnnhhhhhh...."
"Ye be alive, that's somethin'," Briggs muttered.  "Can ye sit up?"
Thomas groaned again and began to shake his head, but abruptly stopped.
"Can't stop at drinkin' him under the table, can ye, Jack?  Ye had to go and lay him waste, didn't ye?  Not everybody's got three livers and a hollow leg!" the quartermaster cursed.  "Thomas, take me hand, and I'll help ye up."
Thomas tentatively took Briggs' hand.
"Here we go, nice and steady.  Slow, slow-- keep a hard grip!  Or ye'll be right back on yer bum again.  That's it!"

Briggs got Thomas to his feet, and slipped an arm under his shoulder to support him.  Thomas stood there, then slowly turned his head to look at Briggs.
"I don't feel so good," he slurred.  "I shouldn't have had that much to drink."
"Admiral of the HMS Flamin' Obvious, you are,"said Briggs.  "Next ye'll be tellin' me the sky's blue and water's wet.  Come on with me.  I've got to get ye to the surgeon.  He'll fix ye up in a right jiffy."
"You have a surgeon?  I didn't think pirates ships had proper surgeons."
"Thanks to you, this ain't no pirate ship any more.  Remember?"
"Oh, yes.  Quite right,"said Thomas as the memory floated back to him.  "You lot don't waste any time.  Oh, wait!  My hat!  We can't leave it!"
"Oh yes, we can!" barked Briggs with a roll of his eyes.  "Off we go, Admiral Rummy!  And mind ye walk on yer own feet!"

The quartermaster managed to manoeuvre the wobbly Thomas into the companionway and down to the surgery's door.  From further down the hallway he could hear Honour's girlish laughter.  He chuckled quietly to himself.
"Well, the sun did come up this mornin'.  And they got somethin' to celebrate."
"What's that?" asked Thomas.
"Hmm?  Oh, nothin'.  Just don't be surprised if ye don't find yerself an uncle a dozen timed over one day."
"That would be nice."
Briggs shook his head and knocked on the door.
"Yes, come in!" replied Duckie.
Briggs turned the door handle and bumped the door open with his hip, making sure to keep Thomas supported as best he could.  As he steered Thomas through the threshold, the admiral's foot caught, knocking him off what little balance he had and nearly bringing both men down in a heap.  Briggs was able to catch him and keep them both from an undignified landing on the deck.
"What did I say about ye walkin' on yer own feet?" grumbled Briggs, his patience with the drunk man clearly waning.  "I had my fill of doin' this for your brother back in the day."
"The deck pitched," Thomas said, punctuating his claim with a hiccup.
"Pitched, me Aunt Tilly's cow!"
"Perhaps you should introduce me to our guest, Josaih?" interrupted Duckie.
Briggs took a moment to calm down.  "This here be Jack's brother, Thomas."  He helped Thomas over to a bunk, and let him drop unceremoniously onto the bed.

"Thomas!  The admiral?" asked Duckie.  Briggs nodded in the affirmative.
"I'm a little drunk," burbled Thomas.
"Yes, I gathered that by your entrance."  Duckie tried hard to not laugh at the situation and largely succeeded.  There was no hiding the bemused tone in his voice, however.  "So tell me, Thomas, what has you getting into such a state at this hour of the day?"
"Well, um, I..."
"Jack," said Briggs flatly.
"That's it!" grinned Thomas.
Duckie nodded.  "That one name usually explains a great many odd things."
"We were celebrating his anmerstry."
"His what?"
"Amnestry.  You know, a pardon!"
"Ah!  He's received a pardon?  That is wonderful news!  I can see why you'd be celebrating." Duckie tilted Thomas' head back and began the examination. He watched Thomas's eyes, which seemed unable to focus on any one thing for long.  "What did you have, and how much?"
"Um, brandy, rum... everything.  Lots of it."
"You're a Wolfe, all right.  Turn your head left, then right for me, please.  As quickly as you're able."
Thomas complied.  As he turned his head quickly back to the right, his eyes went wide.    He looked around the room as if searching for something that wasn't spinning, wobbled, then fell over onto his side on the bunk, where he lay with his eyes screwed shut.  A low moan escaped his lips.
"What does that tell ye?" Briggs asked Duckie.
"That he's very, very drunk."
"I could've told ye as much!"
"Yes, but he's not drunk enough to pass out.  At least I think not."  Duckie prodded Thomas gently in the ribs.  Another low moan.  "Good.  I can treat him instead of let him sleep it off.  No sense in squandering his time aboard with his brother, not to mention a lot of explaining to his comrades."

Duckie went to his cupboard of medicines and retrieved a dark-coloured box from one of the lower shelves.  He placed it on his desk and swung open its lid.  He looked at several of the vials it contained, finally settling on two powders, one pale yellow and the other reddish-brown.  Next, he took a metal cup and measured out equal amounts of the powders.  Then, to Briggs' amazement, he poured a small amount of brandy into the cup.
"Duckie, don't ye think he's had enough?  I though ye were of a mind to sober him up!"
Duckie picked up the cup and swirled the mixture around.  "These powders won't dissolve in water, Josiah.  They'd just float on the top.  I need to make sure he gets all of it so it can work effectively."
Once satisfied with the solution, he added water until the cup was half full.
"Makin' a special grog then, are ye?"
"Something like that.  Now help him sit up, please."

Briggs carefully eased Thomas back into a sitting position.
"Thomas, mate," he said quietly.  "Open yer eyes.  The room ain't spinnin', I can testify."
Thomas tentatively opened one eye, then the other.  He seemed relieved that Briggs was telling the truth.
"Here, I have something that will make you feel better," said Duckie as he offered the cup.  "It's not the most pleasant tasting stuff, but it will clear your head."
Thomas took the cup and sniffed its contents.  Immediately he recoiled.
"Ugh!  What is this?" he demanded.
"Now, now, lad, there's nothing to fear," Duckie reassured him.  "Just a mixture of native plant roots.  It's perfectly safe."
"Sounds more like witchcraft to me," Thomas said suspiciously.
"Come now, Thomas.  We're both enlightened men.  There's no such thing as witchcraft.  You're intoxicated, which is a simple imbalance of the humours.  This tea will fortify your liver and restore the balance, much faster than your own body could achieve."
"Sounds reasonable," added Briggs.  "Hold yer nose and drink it down fast.  Duckie here's the best."
Thomas gave both men a hesitant look, then quickly drank down the pungent liquid as instructed.
"Gah!  It's awful!  It tastes like feet that have been following a herd of goats!" he gasped.  "This had better work."  A worried look suddenly came over his face.  "This horrid concoction is safe, right?"
"Perfectly safe.  I'd stake my reputation on it," Duckie said confidently.  "In fact, it should start working in a couple minutes.  You'll feel right as rain before you know it.  Besides, Jack would have my head if anything were to go wrong with your care..."