DEAD MAN'S TAVERN II

[Welsh Wench]

"As long as I get to lick the bowl!"
Lil and Elinore turned around to see Captain Wench standing in the doorway.
"Wench!" Lil grinned.
Elinore picked up the knife to cut a brownie. Martin smacked her hand. "If that is for Captain, the same rules apply to her as they do to you. Here--" he said as he swept his hand over the surrounding "----here I am King!"
For once Wench didn't look like a captain. She wore a loose chemise and a skirt hiked up. And she was barefoot. Her hair was in a braid down her back. No hat, no boots...no feathers.
"Well, I must say you look like one of the girls, Wench!" Martin exclaimed.
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "And what do you think I am when the clothes come off at night?...Allright, don't answer that!"
She helped herself to the bowl and a spoon and began to lick the batter off it. "Mmmm....! The best part of the brownie!"
Lil looked at her and said, "Um...what are those scratches on your chest?"
"Oh! We have a guest."
Elinor smirked, "I know..but last I looked, Daggett was out of it!"
Wench stuck her tongue out at Elinore playfully. "This guest is in my room."
"But I just saw Captain---"
"And that is where you will see him. Wherever you saw him last. This is a rum-drinking guest."
The two women looked at each other questionably.
Martin smiled and picked a blue feather off Wench's shoulder. "I see he arrived."
"Yes, he did. And in search of rum. In the usual places, too."
Lil threw her hands up.  "Once again you lost me!"
Elinor laughed heartily, "I know who it is!"
Wench put her finger to her lips and said, "Let's see if Lil can figure it out."
"Do I get twenty questions?"
"Let's see if you can do it in three."
"He likes rum, right?"
"Right!"
"And he likes to hang around you, right?"
"Right."
"Oh good grief, do you think I can pull the answer out of the blue.....BLUE! BLUE HAS COME FOR A VISIT!'
"Give the woman a cigar, Martin! She got it right!"

"So...why does Wench get dessert when we had to eat all our dinner?" Elinor asked.
Martin wiped down the tabletop and lightly flicked El in the head. "Because she was in here earlier and ate a nice bowl of stew."
"And three pieces of bread!" Wench added.
Lilaney licked the crumbs of the brownie off her fingers. "It's nice to have you to ourselves, Wench. Usually you and Captain Wolfe or Briggs is arguing."
She laughed. "Oh, I take it you want a little girl talk, is that it?"
Martin rolled his eyes. "Is that my cue to leave?"
"Of course not! You are always welcome!"
Martin put three steaming cups of cocoa in front of them."It is said that rum will loosen the lips of pirates. I wonder what melted chocolate in the hands of three lovely women will do?"

The three women sat around for the better part of an hour, laughing and reminiscing about anything and everything.
"Do you remember when Ice Mage brought those little Brownies to disable the other ships so we could take the Knight Hammer without interference?"
"OH! And remember when we were in Tortuga?"
"Lil, I will NEVER forget the look on your face when that swordsman delivered all those swords for 'Captain Daniels' illegitimate half sister!' That was priceless!"
"Or when Kate and I were listening outside the door to Daemon confronting White Rose on marrying Dorian?"
"And the Queen Bonnie's cats tearing the English redcoats to pieces?"
"Oh, I wish Kate were here to join us..."
"Oh! And what about Jonas Corwin's poisoned blade when you almost died, Wench?"
"And how about that whole business with the Loreion?"
"And what about when we all suspected Daemon and Wench were lovers...."

Wench looked down. "It was a long time ago...."
Lil said quietly, "All of it was a long time ago.  We were all different people then."
Martin refilled their cocoa.
Wench said cheerily, "Well, I am beginning to suspect a few attractions here. Lil, I see you and Duckie working very closely. And you, Elinor! Stop smirking! I'm beginning to think some of those ink prints on Julian didn't come from a leaky quill!"
"I NEVER!"
The women and Martin all burst into laughter.
Lil picked up her cocoa cup and casually hid her smile behind it. "And what of you, Wench?"
"What of me?"
"Well, you and Captain Wolfe. Why don't you get back together?"
"It's a bit more complicated than that. Alot of 'who did what to whom' to work through. The more you try to untangle it, the more tangled it gets."
"Don't you ever wish you two had settled down and had a family?"

Wench spilled her cocoa.
"I--I'm so sorry, Martin."
"It's alright, Wench. I'll mop it up. Do you want more?"
She shook her head no.
"I'lll leave you three now and head for bed."
She left the galley abruptly.

Elinore turned to Martin and Lilaney. "What do you suppose that was about?"
Martin looked after her. "Don't rightly know but they say the more you have a secret, the more it wants to get out."
He sighed and said, "More cocoa, ladies?"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

'I mean, really, why wouldn't she tell me her real name instead of keeping up this ruse for so long? Rhiannon Wolfe has quite the elegant ring,' thought Jack as he walked to the crew's mess. It had been hours since he'd eaten, and he found it difficult to concentrate with his stomach demanding attention. The delicious smell of stew wafted down the companionway from the galley, and his mouth watered in anticipation. It was easy to see why his crewmates adored Martin Montgomery so; not only was he a good and solid hand, he was a wizard in the kitchen. Feminine laughter rang out as Jack approached the door, and he stopped when one laugh, as sweet as chimes, caught his ear. Honour was there with the other women! Which meant she was not in her cabin as he'd thought. Maybe she had something amongst her belongings with her real name written on it which would settle the matter once and for all. He quietly turned around and made his way to her quarters. Once there, he opened the door and slipped inside.

"SQUAAAWK! RRAAAWK!!"

The noise was enough to make Jack nearly jump out of his skin. He whirled and saw Blue standing on the bed, head cocked to the side, staring back at him. "Shut it, you!" Jack admonished the parrot as loudly as he dared. "I don't care what Honour says, I'm of a mind to stuff you in the smallest cage I can find. You can't hold that shape forever!" Blue looked up at the ceiling, almost dismissively, and went about preening underneath his wing. He pulled loose a feather and dropped it on the bed.

"Don't think acting like a real bird is going to fool me for a moment!" Jack continued. "Remember, I saw your little display out there! If you can become a horse or a dog, a parrot wouldn't be a stretch. So get it over with! Come on, change back to normal and we'll have it out right here!" With a rattling squawk, Blue bobbed his head a couple times and strolled up the bed to Honour's pillow and began rubbing his head against it in a seemingly affectionate manner. "Oh, like hell you will!" fumed Jack. He picked up a small book from Briggs' shelf and threw it at the bird. Blue took flight to dodge the missile, and flew to one of the exposed beams near the ceiling, hurling what Jack guessed was a verbal retort from the safety of the shielded perch. "Fine! Stay up there, you overdressed squab! I'll deal with you later!" He turned his attention once again to his real purpose for being there.

Just as he remembered, Honour was meticulous about putting everything away but her boots. No fewer than 4 pair were strewn about the floor of the cabin. Jack picked his way over to the table near the bed, careful not to disturb the maze of footwear. Starting with her personal books, he began flipping quickly through each one looking for her signature, or a letter or scrap of paper that might show her real name. The last book was one he recognized instantly as the "Kama Sutra". He paused in his scan of its pages to appreciate the colourful illustrations of some of his personal favourites, when he took notice of the number of pages that had been dog-eared. With obvious jealous irritation, he turned the book spine side up and shook it. Nothing fell to the table. He restacked the books in their original order, thought better of it, removed the bottom book from the stack and dropped it behind the headboard.

Next, Jack opened the shallow wooden chest that occupied the opposite end of the short table. He rummaged through her effects, finding nothing more than what one would expect to find belonging to a woman who took as much care of her appearance as Honour did. But just as he was about to abandon the hunt, he spied something. Flat against the back of the chest, held in place and hidden by the jumble of silver hairbrushes, jewelry, and keepsakes was a piece of paper folded crisply in thirds. He gently removed the paper from its hiding place and looked at it for several moments. Something told him this was the evidence he was looking for, and he found himself suddenly gripped with doubt. Did he really want to know, really need to know the truth? Curiosity finally won out. He opened the top fold and began to read. To his surprise, it was a baptismal record! It detailed the private baptism of a child born near Anglesey, Wales. Further down, it told that the child was a girl, and pulling back the bottom fold a bit revealed her name.

Zara Conaway.

"Conaway?" he asked himself aloud. He read on to the next name, that of the mother.

Rhiannon Conaway.

There it was. Honour Bright's real name was Rhiannon Conaway. But she had a child? A daughter? Who was the father? Was the baby born before or after they were wed? He knew the answer lay near the end of the page. As he started to unfold the paper completely, he felt something tickle his hand. He tipped the page slightly, and into his hand fell a lock of hair tied neatly with a pink ribbon. The hair was dark brown, with an unmistakeable loose curl to it. It was as if it had been cut from his own hair, albeit much cleaner. A knowing smile spread across his face. It was his child, he just knew it! Best of all, she couldn't possibly be Cade's, nor anyone else's! Honour had been pregnant well before she left Barbados, but when? Jack opened the document completely, and to his satisfaction began to read the father's name.

John Mi--

He was interrupted by the sickening sensation of something warm and runny splattering on the top of his head. Ducking out from under his avian adversary, Jack put the lock of hair back and tucked the document safely into its hiding place. He closed the lid of the chest and felt the top of his head. As he feared, his fingers were coated in parrot poo. At that moment the door handle rattled, then opened.

"What the hell are you doing in my cabin?!" Honour demanded.

Thinking quickly, Jack went for the simplest lie possible. Those usually bought enough time to escape. "I was... looking for the set of charts for our voyage to Castillo de Fuego. You'd like to make it there safely, am I right?"

His hesitation wasn't lost on Honour. She cocked her head to the left and arched her right eyebrow in suspicion. "I suppose. Are you planning on keeping your new hairstyle the whole way there, or is this a passing fancy?"

"That parrot – or whatever he really is – is an ill tempered beast! Look what he did to me!" Jack held up his hand, and Honour batted it away in disgust.

"So? He expressed his honest opinion of you! I thought you'd be used to that by now," she said. "Did you find your charts or not?"

"I'm still looking, if you don't mind..."

"As a matter of fact, I do mind. I mind very bloody much. You can send Briggs for your charts in the morning. I'll even do you the favour of pulling them, how's that?"

Jack put on his most disarming smile and edged close to his bride. Honour knew instantly what the was up to. Maybe, just maybe, it would have worked if he didn't have a whopping load of parrot merde in his hair. "I'll do you one better, love. How's about I stay here tonight, and pull the chart myself in the morning?"

Honour looked at him, and burst into uncontrolled laughter. "Out! Get out! And for God's sake, wash your hair before I see you next!" she guffawed.

Jack's expression went from cocksure to crestfallen. "But Honour, I can have my hair washed and be back in fifteen minutes..."

"Listen to me, you..." She tried to regain her composure, but it didn't work. "You... Whiny the Poo! Go away!" By now she was laughing so hard tears ran down her cheeks. "I'll... talk to you... tomorrow! Go!" She pushed Jack out the door despite his protests and closed it behind him. As she stood there with her back against the door trying to catch her breath, Blue decided to fly down from the rafters. Honour put out her arm to give him a perch. The parrot steadied himself, tottered along her arm a couple steps, then reached down to catch the neck of her chemise with his beak and gave it a tug. After a few seconds of inspection, he looked up at her with an expression of disappointment. Honour laughed and gave his neck a scratch.

"No, Blue, no flask tonight. But I promise you'll hit the motherload tomorrow. I know where Jack keeps the best stuff." She looked over her shoulder in the direction of Jack's cabin and smiled to herself. "You know, Blue, he's really not so bad. He can actually be... pretty delightful!" Blue cocked his head almost perpendicular to the floor at her remark. "Yes, even without poo in his hair! Naughty bird! Time for bed!"

Honour adjusted the the windows to allow some of the moonlight to enter the room, then doused the candle and settled into bed. Within moments, she felt Blue land on the bed beside her. "Oi! Off you go! I know Bacardi trained you, but that only goes so far! Off!" The parrot gave what she was certain was a resigned sigh, and flew over to the table to find a place to settle in. Once he finished scratching about, she pulled the covers up a little tighter around her neck and drifted off to sleep.

At the same time, Jack was in his own cabin washing away the last of Blue's calling card.  He sat on the edge of the bed towelling off his shoulder length hair and digesting the information he'd learned.  In all his years of roving and running, the thought of having fathered a child had never entered his mind.  Not in a positive sense, at any rate.  But this was different.  There was no denying he still loved Honour, and Fate having brought their lives back together had to count for something.  A broad smile broke out on his face as he mused about how she must look, and certainly what her temperament must be like given the mercurial nature of her parents.   'Oh, what a handful she must be!' he thought.  His thoughts went to the name Honour - he couldn't quite bring himself to think of her as Rhiannon, no matter how lovely and fitting that name was - had given their daughter.

Zara Conaway.

Zara Wolfe.

Oh, now there was a name to be reckoned with!  He gave a quiet laugh, and rolled the news through his mind once again.  As he did so, the joyous grin returned.

'I'm a father!  I have a child!  WE have a child!  Who'd have thought in a million years Jack Wolfe would have an offspring?  My own flesh and bone, my own little girl!'  His heart felt full, almost to bursting, for this child he'd only now learned about.  'My little girl.  If she takes after her mother one iota, she'll be beautiful beyond compare.  Our daughter.  Our daughter...'  He felt his smile evaporate, and a masque of dread crept into his expression as he spoke to himself.

"Our daughter.
Oh, dear merciful God, I have a daughter!

I'll need to protect her from men like... ME!!"

[Blackjack Roberts]

Once Blackjack was certain that Duckie had left the surgery he slipped from his cot. He needed to assure himself that Malcolm was indeed resting comfortably and wasn't about to allow anyone else to know. His cousin's unexpected friendship with captain Wolfe, as well as the ship's doctor, was just the stroke of luck Malcolm needed to insure his survival. To Jack's reckoning as long as they both stayed under the illusion that Roberts had as little to do with him as possible.

In this way they both would have him as a scapegoat for the various misadventures that had befallen the ship and Malcolm would stand blameless.

The former highwayman made his way over to his sleeping cousin. His breathing was slightly ragged, but strong and consistent. Had it been the effect of the potion, his knock on the head, or had he done the same thing he had done in Tortuga? He had never admitted to anyone why he had not killed Dagget that night on the docks and had been more than a little grateful when Cade had pinned his arms from behind to drag him onto the ship.

For one split second after he had disarmed Malcolm he had intended to thrust his blade straight through the man's heart. He had a clear target and there was precious little Malcolm could have done to stop him. In that moment he saw his cousin through the same eyes he had seen him with as a child. The three of them playing their games of boyish adventure. The happy times before fate had set them on very different paths. Blackjack Roberts had learned that night, that he did not have the heart to murder his own cousin and had thrust his rapier through the shoulder instead.

Blackjack whirled around as the door suddenly opened, his right hand grasping the poisoned throwing dart hidden in his belt. He released the weapon immediately as Martin came in with a two bowls of stew steaming from the tray he carried. A look of surprise marked his features at the sight of Jack standing.

"Blackjack! I wasn't sure if either of you would be awake, but I figured I would take the chance." The big man grinned.

Roberts smiled warmly at his friend. "I'm about, but I think Dagget will be skipping this meal, Mate. Come, have a seat, if you can spare a moment."

"I believe I have a bit of time." Martin pulled Duckie's stool next to the cot as Jack sat down to the meal. In all the commotion and the effects of the Lotus potion he had not realized just how long it had been since he ate last.

"Hmmmmm." He said between mouthfuls of bread and stew, as well as healthy draughts of ale from the two tankards. "I see your encounter with Rubin went well. The only other place I've seen boots like that was on him."

"About that." Martin did his best to scowl. "Couldn't you have warned a man that Rubin was a giant?!"

Blackjack riot diseased the mouthful of ale across the floor before chuckling merrily. "Gave you a start, did he?"

"A start?! A start?!" Martin continued wide eyed. "He almost gave me a heart attack! As it is I lost six years growth!"

"You were never in any danger, Mate." Blackjack smiled as he reached for the second bowl. "I'd have never let you go alone if there was the slightest possibility of that. Rubin is much like yourself. At heart he is a gentile man, but he can be very dangerous if angered."

Roberts swallowed another spoonful of stew before continuing. "He comes from a tribe called the Zulu if I remember correctly. Their tall buggers, average about seven foot, but Rubin turned out to be a bit more muscular and taller than the rest of his village. If he went to the trouble of getting you a pair of those boots you can be sure you have made a friend of him for life."

Martin looked thoughtful for a moment before he spoke. "He told me the story of how you saved his life, and his son."

Blackjack stopped in mid-chew for a second, then swallowed. "It wasn't as much as he makes it out to be." He dismissed the story easily. "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"Not from what he told me, Jack." Martin looked hard at the pirate. "You almost got yourself killed then as well. I was a merchant myself for many years and got to know a lot about folk in those years. No man who is as hard as you pretend to be would risk his neck for another's sake. You, Blackjack Roberts, are not the man you pretend to be."

Roberts sat the half finished bowl down before looking his friend in the eye. "Perhaps not. Then again, perhaps I am." He spoke unguardedly. "At times, I am not certain of that myself, Mate. Please, make no mistake my friend. I have, and will do things that are both horrendous and vile. Above all, do not let any know what you think of my nature. Men have died terrible deaths at my hand for testing that theory and I've no wish to add to that number."

Martin stood up, taking the near empty tray with him. "If that is your wish. Still, I for one am proud to say you are my friend, Blackjack."

The cook extended his island sized hand to Roberts. Jack shook it firmly and watched has the huge man left. "I have to wonder if you would still feel the same if you knew some of the things I've done, Martin." He thought to himself. "Never the less, thank you, Mate. My friends may be few, but I cherish each one of them more than all the riches in the world."

[Martin Montgomery]

Martin stood in the center of the "Lobo's" forward hold that he had christened the ship's larder,because of it's proximity to the main galley. He surveyed the carefully placed barrels filled with salted pork,lamb and dried and salted beef that lined the bulkheads,strapped down to prevent them affecting the delicate balance of the ship when she soon returned to the sea. Sacks of potatoes,oats,dried corn,peas,beans and lentils were stacked between the barrels on wooden pallets keeping the sacks free of spoilage and the dampness of the holds decking. Whistling a jaunty sea shanty learned from Gordy,the Lobo's eccentric lookout, the big cook strolled through the doorway and closed the hatch,making sure to slide the stout wooden bar home. Turning he checked on the ship's newly acquired herd of six dairy goats four had whethers at their sides,which would be used later for fresh meat.  The carpenter had built new coops and they now held an assortment of laying hens a single rooster and four juvenile geese. Pleased with the arrangement Martin mounted a set of steep stairs that came up in his living corner of the main galley. Looking down,with a smile,at the knee high black boots that Rubin had gifted him,he crossed the galley to check on the whole roasting pig that filled the oven. Nodding his satisfaction to the Taylor brothers who were busily peeling a huge pile of spuds and adding them to a large pot of boiling water. "Things are just fine down below." He rumbled "You boys did a proper job of it even as hurried as we were! After supper I'll get Briggs to inspect it just to let him think we need someone to tell us our job!" Sighing contentedly he noticed the level of cookies and brownies in the sweets tins had dropped dangerously low. "I see that our desert supply has suffered mightily!" Receiving twin snorts of amusement from the brothers Martin grinned ,stating "I'll start a new batch in a few minutes!" Tim,the elder Taylor by a few years ,spoke up "You had better check on the ones that you hide for your "Special Members" also, they have been through here "looking" for you several times today ,and per your "orders" no one has left empty-handed!" Patting his ample belly the jovial cook smiled and pulled out his pipe,tamping the bowl half-full with fresh tobacco "You may not believe me boys but when I was a youngster,not quite your age......" Both Taylors broke in with " I had to work twice as hard as you do now for half as much! I had to carry my family's corn to the towns mill on my back uphill both ways because the mule couldn't make the trip! I was the youngest child out of fifteen and I had to share with all of my siblings,no mater how little it was!"  Chuckling loudly Martin lit his pipe with a long straw lit from the cooking brazier. "O.K. O.K. That's enough you two! I suppose I deserve that! I think I need to make up different stories!" Tom stood and checked on a large cast iron pot that was hanging near the banked coals. "Martin,there is a bit of last nights stew left what do you want to do with it?  The big cook blew a perfect smoke ring and gasped "Don't even think of throwing it out! It is a well known fact that stew is better the second day!" Tim stood and tossed his brother a large wooden salad bowl carved from a single slice of oak that had been one of the personal purchases Martin had made. "Here you go brother! You empty the pot and I'll wash it out!" Martin took the bowl from Tom and crossed to his berth,setting the steaming bowl on the sea chest next to his oversized hammock,he carefully sat down. finishing his pipe he studied the oilskin wrapping that had covered his new boots ,the merchant in him made it hard to throw anything useful away,he noticed faint marks on the inside lining. Curiosity getting the better of him he picked the wrappings up and shook them out,straightening them. He now held a roughly two foot square,the edges crudely hemmed to prevent tearing, his eyes widened with excitement and he struggled to extricate his bulk from the hammock. His bowl hit the floor and bounced,the heavy oak fine but the contents splattering across the floor and part of the wall! "Boys!" He called over his shoulder as he fairly flew up the narrow stairs to the main deck "Finish fixing supper and keep packing the extra stuff away! It's possible we may be leaving quickly!"       

[Hibernian]

They had talked for what seemed half the night. The conversation had started simply enough comparing notes about common friends and the usual "have you ever" tales. As the candles burn shorter and the dark deepened the tenor of the discussion took a more personal tone as now the girl and the monk discuss choices they had made in life and then finally ever so slowly their eyes lost the fight and closed.


A voice from within; I'm awake. Then why don't you open your eyes and get up? Because I don't want to, after all this could a dream, I could still have time to sleep. You're having a discussion with yourself about whether you are awake or not and you just think it may be a dream.

Bong!

It must be a dream I'm hearing bells. Could be the novices, figure if they have be up everyone should be up. But wait, I'm not at the cloister.

Bong!

What, oh I forgot, ship bells, it's all those pirate ships, must be morning watch by now, count the bells.

Bong!

Oh, 6 bells, time to arise, time for lauds. Ok, I'm up, no hold that thought I'm still down, there something on my lap. Then open your eyes and look. Fine my eyes are open, I'm looking, Oh my.


Kate awoke to the sound of singing. She slowly sat up and looked at the brown cloth her head had been using as a pillow. It was a brown cowl. The singing brought her attention to the figure kneeling before the altar. It was Brother Timothy and he was missing his hood.

The sound of his voice echoed and filled the church. While only one voice, his baritone was finding just the right pace of the song so that his call was answered by the echo's response. She heard him give thanks for Brother Sun and Sister Moon; for Wind and Air and Water, for Earth and Fire, and finally as a chill went down her spine for Sister Death.

"We praise and bless You, Lord, and give You thanks, and serve You in all humility. Amen." Brother Timothy crossed himself, slowly bent forward to kiss the floor of the church. With a final bow of the head toward the altar he slowly stood up and turned around to face Kate. "Blessings of the day my friend."

"Brother that was beautiful, I almost recognize it."
"Morning prayer is one of my favorite times, that is once I get this old body out of bed. The knees are bit stiff at times, all that kneeling over the years. Yet the start of a new day to make the most of the gifts we have been given that is something to praise. That prayer lurking about in the back of your head is The Canticle of the Creatures, a gift from our brother Francis. Speaking of gifts I see you have my cowl."

"I found it under my head, your doing from last night?"
"Actually my doing from earlier this morning, Last evening you fell asleep in the middle of our conversation.  My legs served as your pillow during the night and I didn't want to leave you sleeping on the cold stones of the floor when I arose for lauds."

"You are a gentleman and a monk."
"The two are not mutually exclusive."
"True, now what?"
"We test our eyes and the common sense gifted to us. You will notice the light through yonder window and the shadow which falls and points the way prayfully toward our goal."
"What?"
"It's time to follow the shadow of the cross and look for the treasure of St Dimas."

[Welsh Wench]

"NO!"
Wench sat upright in the bed, jolted out of a deep sleep by her unsettling dreams. She ran her fingers through her hair, her hands shaking.
"Squawk? RawwwwK?" came the soft drowsy sound of Blue from his place on top of the sea chest. She rose and slipped on a dressing gown.
"Shhh, Blue. Go back to sleep, sweetie."
She gave his head a gentle rub and he dropped back to sleep.

Wrapping the dressing gown tightly around her, Wench looked out the port window. The moonlight was streaming through. El Lobo bobbed gently with the rocking of the waves.
She knew that after she had these dreams, there was no use going back to sleep. Closing the door to the cabin, she quietly walked to the quarterdeck. On her way there, she reached into Captain Wolfe's binnacle and pulled out his bottle of Jamaican rum.

Looking over the harbor, she was thankful the wind had changed and La Ville du Traitre was downwind. She uncorked the rum and leaned against the gunwale. A thousand thoughts flooded her mind. She took a deep drink from the bottle and let the rum burn its way down, the warmth spreading through her chest and into her very soul.

"Rhiannon? Rhiannon, wake up!"
She opened the door. "What time is it, Megan?"
"It's about midnight. Is Zara asleep?"
Rhiannon nodded towards her baby's cradle. "I just got her to sleep. Is something wrong?"
Megan came in and shut the door. "It's Madoc's sons.  Garath and Cadfael. They were just here. Looking for you."
"Oh dear God!"
"Daffyd sent them on their way. I don't know if they will be back or not. Rhiannon, it isn't safe here!'
She felt a rising sense of panic.
"Megan, what do I do? If I go to gaol, I won't ever see Zara again. I'll be hung for the murder of Madoc. And quite possibly they will try to hang Rhys' murder on me too!"
Megan sat on the bed and took Rhiannon's hands in hers. "Daffyd and I have talked. We had Father Donovan write this up. Since he was your confessor."
Megan produced a baptismal record. For the chid's name was inserted Zara Powell. The mother was listed as unknown. So was the father's.

Rhiannon stared at it. "But---but Megan, she's MINE!"
Megan nodded. "You have the original baptismal record. This was drawn up to protect Zara from ever being taken from us. Father Donovan will swear she was a foundling child from a maid that was in our employ.
Rhiannon, the best thing for you would be to go to Barbados and get that plantation you purchased set up. Then come back for Zara. You will be away from here and Madoc's sons will be looking in another direction for you.'
"But...I have to leave my baby!"
Megan hugged her. "It's the only way, Rhiannon. You can't take her yet. She's only three months old.  Aboard a ship is no place for an infant. And you can't stay here. It isn't safe for you."
Rhiannon could see she had no choice.

The next day she was taken to the docks by Daffyd.
He hugged her and whispered to her, "Do you have enough funds?"
She nodded. "I've secured my future and that of my child's. Daffyd? You will take care of Zara for me?"
"With all our heart and soul, dear. You know I love you like my own sister."
She clutched the book that had Zara's real baptismal record and a lock of her hair tied in a pink bow.
"Daffyd...if anything should happen....please tell her about her real parents?  I don't ever want her to think she was an abandoned child. Like I was."

Daffyd reached over and wiped the tears from Rhiannon's eyes. "My dear, it is safer this way. You stay here, you go to gaol and are tried. If you take Zara on an Atlantic crossing, you run the risk of her catching an illness. Set things up and come back to us as soon as you can. Zara will be a bit older and we will gladly hand her over to  you. As long as you have the sealed church record, no one can ever take her away. Including us."
Rhiannon laid her head on Daffyd's chest and sobbed as if her heart would break.
He held her close and patted her on the back.
"Captain Underhill is ready to take you back to Glen Livet. From there he said you can book passage again with James Blake.  James makes berth there every month. And seeing you are old friends...."

"Ready to go, Miss Conaway?" Captain Underhill stood here with a smile on his face.
She broke away from Daffyd. He handed her a handkerchief which she dabbed her eyes with.
"Yes, I am. Daffyd?"
"Rhiannon, it is the only way. Set things up. And then hasten all and come back and start a new life with your little girl."
"How can I ever thank you, Daffyd? You and Megan have been so good to me."
He hugged her and said, "You're family. That is enough for us."

Wench took another deep drink of rum. She folded her arms on the gunwale and looked out to the sea. Tears fell silently down her face as she continued to take drink after drink, numbing her pain. She missed Zara with all her heart. It had been about six months. Zara would be starting to walk. Her first words would be ma-ma and da-da. But who would be the first ones to hear them? Aunt Megan and Uncle Daffyd.  When the bottle was empty, Rhiannon flung it into the ocean.
'Damn!' she whispered.

"Honour? You and I need to have a talk."
She turned around to look into the serious face of Captain Jack Wolfe.

[lilaney]

"This boat is starting to feel too tight"
Lil leaned against the aft rails of the ship, overlooking the pier.
The blackness of true night had set in and the lights from the scant few lamps topside gave the whole place an eery faint orange tinge around the edges.
Elinor nodded sagely as she sat on a rain barrel nearby. Her own small lamp giving her just enough light to write in her log book.
The poor log book; covered in ink stains, its once beautifully bound exterior all battered and salt-washed until almost all the color had been siphoned away.
"How goes the writing?"
Elinor, tongue between her teeth, managed a somewhat legible scrawl across the page.
"It is going, but, albeit very slowly."
Her sigh of satisfaction at having finally completed logging in the time from when they left Glenlivet up until the point in which they all made it safely back from this Island's tiny market, were writen down in word.
Lil heard her Captain come out onto the Quarterdeck, she also heard the soft slap as the bottle hit the water, and she then heard the Captain's spouse come and join the Captain next to the quaterdeck's rails.
What she heard next was something she wasn't sure she had heard right.
Elinor's mouth was wide open and her eyes were big as saucers staring at Lil.
"Don't you dare write that in the logs!"
Lil hissed a whisper at Elinor who shut the log book with a snap and put it next to her lamp.
In front of them, lay the helm and the helmsman, who was also leaning in for a good listen as the Captains' spoke quickly and quietly at each other.
Lil snuck up behind the watchman, and as the two Captains went out of sight; she laid her prettiest dagger across the throat of the old tar.

His imperceptive jump of alarm almost made Lil slit his throat on accident.

"Ain't gorna breath a word of whotcha jest 'eard, ere ya, me lad?"
Lil adopted her old time favorite sea slang and gruff voice, which seem to freeze the gent in his wake.
"Naw, ain't no use." He hoarsly whispered back, "h'ent worth the palaverin' that would cause, bucko."
Lil removed the knife slowly and cuffed the gent around the head, he slumped to the deck.

She turned to Elinor, who had calmly stood by with her bodice dagger at the ready to assist.
Lil smiled, "Guess I have the night watch, want to tell Martin that I could use some Cocoa about breakfast time?"
Elinor smiled as Lil scooted the body of the prone man off to one side and took up his place.
"Think I'll keep you company until dawn, if I fall asleep, wake me if anything else interesting happens!"
Elinor moved the empty rain barrel next to the unconcious man and upon sitting back down on it, opened up her own personal journal and began writing again.
Lil quirked and eyebrow at her in a knowing way. Elinor smiled.
"I am not about to write what I just heard! I want to keep my skin.
Was just making a list of trim and laces and fabric I was going to get once we have our ship back. Do you know anyone who makes silver teethers?"
Lil grinned, "You bet! Hey while your at that list, add on some stuffs for me?"
The two spent the rest of the twilight discussing and deliberating purchases they would be making at the next port they got too after they had gotten their beloved 'Knight Hammer' back, and which rooms would need to be made over to accomidate their newest shipmate.

[Ice Mage]

Hours passed, and the trio lay unconscious on the deck of the Brig.  English Marines stand guard at the door, and the smell of rotting meats cross the air.  Meanwhile the English Man of War made sail for it's unknown destination, while-st the burning hulk of the transport sank behind them.  Slowly Daemon came too, glancing over to his comrades.  Dorean was chained to the bars of the cell, apparently he had other plans once he came too.  Meanwhile, Rose lay slumped over in almost a fetal position.  Her body was covered in blood, but not hers.  Raising from his slumber,  Daemon first went to check on his former wife.  He pressed his hand on the side of her neck, praying for some sign that her heart still pulsed with life.  For a moment his knees began to buckle.  He could not seem to find her pulse, and a wave of terror crossed his face.  He rolled her onto her back, across his legs.  Calling her name and rubbing her shoulders, he tried to wake her.  Hoping for a miracle, or at least an opportunity to take her place.  Without warning her eye's blinked, and her hand seemingly came out of no where to slap the taste out of his mouth.

'STOP Shaking Me.  I have a migraine!'

Tears began to roll from his eye's as he clutched her in his arms.

"Oh thank the Gods you are alive!"

Roses face went dead cold, as she looked away from her former lover.

'I only wish i were dead.  Then i could be with her!'

Daemon looked away, trying to hold himself together.  Unfortunately he did not expect Dorean to have woken up.

{Hey little miss Vardus!  Why don't you take off that dress and end this tea party.  Your kid is still alive!  So what makes you think you have the right to mourn. let alone, hold my wife!}

Rose pulled herself up, and walked over to her husband.  Daemon sit there quietly, trying to give them their moment.  Rose curled up in front of the chained Dorean, holding him around the waist and crying.
Outside the cell, one of the guards departed.  After only a few minutes, The Commander of the Dragoons came walking down the stairs.  A man of great stature, all those not wearing the uniform seemed to cower in fear.  He looked at each of the guards and began to give his orders.

*Release that man from his shackles, and leave us.  We have much to discuss.*

Following their commands without question, the guards released the shackles holding Dorean.  From behind the cage of course.  Knowing that if he had even the slightest chance, they would be lying in a heap on the ground.  They exited promptly, and bolted the door.  The ominous Commander pulled up a chair, and set his hat on a nearby table.  He looked at them as if they were old acquaintances.

*I trust my men have not been too hard on you.  I will see that you are fed well, and any necessary medical attention is given.  Our journey will be a short one, but if you can assure me of your cooperation.  I just might be willing to offer you more suitable quarters.  To those of your stature that is.*

The trio looked at him incredulously, curious what his true intentions were.  Daemon felt the need to speak.

"Why have you attacked us?  Where are you taking us?  And who the hell are You?

The Commander put his hand on his forehead and began shaking it back and forth.

*Oh...... My most sincere apologies Admiral.  I am of course truly amiss.  Where are my manners,of course.  I am Commander Daniel Ransom.  I was second in command to Captain Ramzy, which if i am not mistaken you three had a hand in his death.*

"Is that why you have taken us hostage, to take us to a English port and punish us?"

A sigh of frustration crossed his lips.  He rose and turned briefly, only to turn back and look at them once again.

*Only partly...... We have met as a result of that encounter, but i have no quarrel with you.  Ramzy was a fool.  He was arrogant and sick, and frankly he got what he deserved.*

Ransom was quickly cut off by Dorean, who had his own questions.

{If you have no quarrel with us, then why did you kill my child?  Why come after us at all?  What kind of a man are you to fire on a ship with a child on it?}

Embarrassed, Ransom lowered his head in disgrace.

*My lord and i are truly saddened by your loss, My lord more so in fact.  Our Intel had the child in a monastery in Glenlivet.  We had no wish to harm her.  I realize my words will not offer comfort to you in these times, but my heart is truly with you.  We merely wish to ensure your safe travel to El Dorado.  If the infantile Captain of that rat trap you were sailing had not opened his gun ports, we would have simply boarded and escorted you here.*

Daemon rose to his feet and walked over to his captor.  Cutting him off yet again. 

"That still does not explain why you have taken us Hostage.  If you are in fact planning to take us to the destination we had already planned on; and not to a English Court of Law, Then the question remains why?"

Commander Ransom sat in his chair, and looked up at the Admiral.

*I was getting to that sir.  After you rid my former captain of his life, liberated one of our conquests, and destroyed the Dauntless; We quickly found ourselves out of favor with our command.  My entire unit was classified as Disavowed.  I personally was informed that only when we have proved our worth, will we be allowed to return home.  So we have in fact been banned from our own home.*

Ransom got up, and went to a small keg of Rum.  Pouring 4 tankards, he brought three of them to the feeding shelf on the side of the prison.  Once Vardus had divided out the tankards, Ransom returned to the table in which his hat lay.  He leaned against the table and took a swig.  A moment later, he continued.

*We realized we needed a major victory to regain our right full place in England.  So we took this vessel, and began searching.  It was not long however that we were approached by a Warlord, who ha already heard of our plight.  He was well aware of your movements, and had already made his move on El Dorado.  He offered to give us a peace offering to England, if we completed a few tasks.  And with his growing power, it would be advantageous for England and his Master to allies.*

For a third time, Ransom is interrupted.  This time by Rose!

'You cant be serious!  My father has already taken El Dorado?  What of my son?  Is he this Warlord?'

*Why yes Milady.  A spitting image of his parents.  And as cruel.  But he does a sense of family, and in that spirit he has an offer for the three of you.  Which is why i was sent.  You see he has a small fleet of vessels, that have been ordered to sink any ship not currently allied with them.  So he thought it prudent to ensure you safe arrival.  So with all that said, i am taking you to your last surviving child.  Will you be mate and refrain from any further destruction.  Or do i need to keep you confined like animals?*

The three looked at each other for a moment.  Realizing that they were probably outnumbered a hundred to one, and that they were being taken on a silver platter to their target.  Vardus looked back at the Commander and nodded in agreement.

*Excellent!  I will have my men escort you to your cabins, where you will find all your possessions from the Babylon.  Including your weapons.  I trust that you will take you situation in account before you try using them.*

Ransom ordered the guards back into the room, and directed them to escort the trio to their cabins.  As they left their cells, a searing look of hatred crossed both Rose and Doreans face.  They made no move to take their revenge, but the plans were already forming.  As they exited the room, Ransom called to them.

*Oh, before i forget...... Let me invite you to dine with my officers and I tonight.  I have a special meal planned in you honor, and I'd hate for you to miss it.*

They glanced back at him and nodded in agreement, still not sure what to make of this move to get on their good sides.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"Honour? You and I need to have a talk."  He hadn't been able to sleep after learning of his daughter's existence.  His original purpose had been to see how much Jamaican rum it would take to prevent him from knocking on Honour's door to demand answers.  It was a moot point now, punctuated by the familiar splash of an empty bottle hitting the water.  She turned around to look at him, her face streaked with bitter tears and her eyes bleary from too much alcohol.  A fresh round of tears threatened as she avoided meeting his gaze.  His instincts told him that this was no time for a confrontation over something so serious.  But maybe he'd get lucky and she'd offer something accidentally given the right approach.
"What do you want now, Jack?" she asked with a wavering voice.
"You've been crying..."
"What of it?  I'm a woman.  Crying's what we do."
"What's upset you so?"
After a long pause, she quietly answered, "You wouldn't understand."
"Then help me understand.  Please?"
A single derisive laugh escaped her lips.  "Help you understand the problem?  Jack, you ARE the problem!  From the moment I met you I've felt like a leaf in the wind, carried this way and that, always wondering what unforeseen event will send me flying and where... and you're the storm driving it all.  Just when I was sure I was rid of you, there you are, big as day on the deck of my ship!  My ship, Jack!  My freedom!  The ship we have to chase down, all because of you!"  She stood defiantly, waiting for his response. 
Jack stood there silently during her tirade, letting her lash out against him as she would.  He knew her life would have been much different if he'd never set foot in that St. Lawrence tavern, if he'd never introduced himself, if he'd never looked into those stormy blue eyes.  But their lives were inextricably entwined now in the form of their daughter back in Wales.  Everything going forward was a desperate gamble for him, and the stakes could not be higher.  He wouldn't lose her - lose them - again.  With a quizzical tilt of his head, he responded.  "Funny, I didn't hear a single mention of Cade in all that."
"Wh- what?" she faltered.
"Cade.  Remember him?  The strapping blond lad that absconded with your ship, your freedom as you so eloquently put it, like the underhanded, cowardly dog he is?  I'm sorry, love, but you can't hang that one on me.  I'm the one trying to help you get your ship back, in spite of my inclinations otherwise."
"Well, you're the one who got him so drunk!  He never would have done it if--"
"What, if I hadn't sat there and watched him drink himself into a stupor?  We're men, darling.  Drinking's what we do.  I didn't make him drink.  He chose to.  Just as he chose to steal your ship," Jack countered.  "It was only a matter of time."

The alcohol had begun to exert itself in earnest, and Honour's head swum.  "You think he meant to take the Knight Hammer from me?  Why would he do that?"
"I don't know.  Ask him.  What I do know is that I'm the one who taught him to drink.  He's never held it well, but he's clear headed enough once he sleeps it off."  He paused long enough to make sure she was still following along.  "Think about it, Honour.  I mean, really think about it.  If he had been crazed from the booze, why didn't he turn about and come back once he'd sobered up?   Why did he pick up a crew on this adorable dung heap?  And why oh why is he still running, in the opposite direction of Glen Livet?"
She put a steadying hand on the gunwale.  "He used me?  The son of a belch used me!"
"Pretty much, yeah...  I'm sorry, darling.  I thought you'd realized it already."  He stifled a satisfied smile.  For once, Cade Jennings was the bad guy, having charmed his way back into Honour's life and her bed, all so he could procure a more powerful ship for himself.  She had been little more than lagniappe.  Jack let the terrible realization sink in, careful not to overplay his hand.  To go any further would only deepen her humiliation.  He would not strip her of what dignity she had left.

Honour's head spun.  It all made sense now; the way Cade had breezed back into her life, blind sided her with a proposal of marriage, and virtually assumed command of her ship.  As her husband, he would have had claim to the Knight Hammer.  With Jack showing up out of the blue, his plans were in jeopardy, so he stole the ship instead.  What else could it have been?  Cade provided sufficient damning evidence by his own actions.  If he weren't guilty, why did he continue to run, with his own crew now aboard?  It seemed her incredible luck to date had finally run out.  How could she have been so blind?  Between the rum and her sudden understanding of Cade's real motivations, she sat down hard on the deck.  Jack was beside her in a flash.
"Are you all right?" he asked as he steadied her.
Her face was flushed with humiliation and intoxication.  "It's still all your fault."
"Really?  How do you figure?"
"Because YOU taught him!  Bastard!"
"Oh, no.  Hold on," he said, shaking his head slowly.  "A marriage of convenience, albeit it to a devastatingly beautiful woman such as yourself, just to get a ship?  Not even I would stoop so low.  I like to keep things simple."
"Since when were you ever simple?"
"Since always!  I'm a simple man.  It's the world that's complicated," he smiled.  She looked at him and managed a feeble smile of her own.
"I almost fell for it, Jack.  All of it."  The tears welled in her eyes once again.  "I'm glad you showed up when you did."
"It's a sad day for us all when the swindlers get swindled, love.  We'll get your ship back.  I promise.  Your doggie, too.  Now, you've no business out in the night air like this.  Let's get you back to bed."  He helped her to her feet, but she'd become so unsteady from drink that she stumbled on the steps.  Jack caught her about the waist before she could fall, and she flung her arms around his neck.  They stood there face to face for several moments.  Honour broke into a broad smile.
"You know, Muir really, really loves you.  Did you know that?" she asked.
"And what of his mistress?  Does she feel the same?" he replied coyly.
"I'm not telling!" Honour giggled.  "Are you going to take your co-captain to bed like you promised, or not?"  She turned to take a step, and found herself instead swept up in her husband's arms.  Her surprised squeal and laughter chimed across the deck.
"Trust me, it will be easier this way," he assured his wide-eyed wife.
"You're the co-captain," she giggled.  "Mush!"

Jack carried her to the companionway.  "Honour," he asked tentatively, "have you ever wondered what our children would have looked like?  Just as a lark?"
"Sometimes, on stormy nights.  Would you want a boy or a girl?  If we'd had one, that is."
"Oh, I don't know.  Either would be fine I suppose.  If we'd had a girl, I'd bet she'd have your eyes."
"Yes," Honour smiled happily.  "And she has your hair, curls and all!"
Jack pretended not to notice her slip of the tongue.  "Too bad we never did."
She sighed and laid her head against his shoulder.  "It is too bad."

"Here we are, all nice and sound," he announced as they arrived at her door.  He started to set her down when she stopped him with a deep, desperate kiss.
"I don't want to be alone tonight, Jack," she whispered huskily.  The taste of her kiss was like nectar, and the heat of her breath on his skin set his heart to racing.  He wanted her so intensely, but his conscience would not rest.  In his heart, he knew accepting her offer would only bring regrets come morning.  Still...
"Honour, I –"  Again, he was interrupted by her passionate, demanding kiss.
"I want you, Jack,"  she insisted.  "Please, take me to your bed.  Don't say no."
"I could never deny you," he answered.  Shouldering open the door to his cabin, he carried her within.  They kissed hungrily once again as he laid her upon the bed.  "Let me get undressed, darling," he whispered.
"Hurry!" she replied breathlessly.
Jack reluctantly broke away, practically tearing off his waistcoat and shirt.  His boots went next.  But as he went to unfasten his belt, another nasty pang of conscience hit him.  He paused, then turned back to face her.  "Honour, are you sure –"  The sight before made him stop... and laugh.  There amid the soft glow of oil lamps and moonlight lay his beautiful bride, snoring softly.

The events of the day and too much drink had finally overwhelmed her.  Ever so gently, as if she were made of porcelain, he moved her just enough so he could pull the cover over her.  He smiled at the peaceful look on her face and kissed her forehead.  "Good night, my love.  This is what you really needed tonight."
Jack took a pillow and spare blanket to make his bed on the floor beside Honour.  He hoped she would remember their discussion about her ship.  He certainly wouldn't forget what she had said.  Zara was healthy, and she was his daughter.  With the smile of a proud father on his lips, he joined his wife in slumber.

[Blackjack Roberts]

A moan from Malcolm's bed brought Jack out of his reverie with a start. Without thinking he was at his cousin's side, deep concern lighting his eyes.

"Jack?" Malcolm looked up weakly.

Blackjack gripped Dagget's forearm reassuringly. "Don't try and speak now, Cousin. You need as much rest as you can get."

"Ballocks!" Malcolm coughed and grinned. "I'm just as tough and stubborn as you are, Jack. Neither one of us ever had sense enough to stay down."

Roberts chuckled, thinking back for a moment to the various fisticuff matches he and Malcolm had engaged in as lads. "True enough, Mate. Of the three of us only Cade had sense enough to yield when things got out of hand."

"Speaking of Cade, I had heard he too had resorted to piracy." Malcolm's voice was a shadow of his usual commanding baritone, but steady.

Blackjack sighed, debating for a moment wether or not he should tell Malcolm what he had learned on this strange turn fate had taken. It all seemed too much to be merely a coincidence. Himself porting in Glenlivet after returning from the Orient. Signing on with the captain of a ship Cade had stolen. Discovering that their youngest cousin had been involved with Honour, who is married to one of the most notorious pirate captains to sail these waters. Then to top it all off having discovered that Malcolm had also, though unknowingly, also had a tryst with the very same woman and was an old school chum of Mad Jack's. These waters were getting deep, to say the least.

No sense putting more on Malcolm than was necessary. "You heard right, Mate." Jack replied. "But we have more pressing matters at the moment."

"Such as?" Dagget's brown eyes darkened a shade from the warning tone in his cousin's voice.

"Such as having had a night, or two, with the wife of Mad Jack Wolfe." Blackjack replied seriously. "The man is known for much, but forgiveness isn't listed among his virtues."

"I had no idea, and it was more like a week!" Dagget became agitated. "I had been laid up from the fight we had on the dock, and met her in one of the taverns. You had escaped and I needed the solace to wash down the beating you handed me that night."

"It was Cade who helped me that night, Malcolm." Jack frowned. "Never the less, Mad Jack knows of it now, and I would dare say the only thing saving your arse at the moment is that old friendship."

Blackjack grinned suddenly. "Now, at the moment he and the sawbones blame me far more than you for the last few incidents we have encountered on this insane voyage. I'll settle that debt soon enough now that I have recovered a few things I left here on this accursed isle. As long as they are holding me responsible you have little to worry about. I'd like to keep it that way, Old Chum."

"Damn it, Jack!" Malcolm began to rise from his cot. "It's not your fault! I did this to you! If I would have only listened to you, believed your side of the story, you would have never left! You would have never become the man they claim you to be now!"

"Do you think I haven't heard the tales they tell of you?!" Malcolm's unrest was beginning to alarm Roberts as he continued. "When I first tracked you to this den of iniquity the locals told of a man who killed in the most vicious way imaginable. Even some of the worst among them still refer to you as the Devil incarnate! That's how we were able to track you. Sir Terrence wasn't satisfied with my word that you were dead. He was convinced that if you did manage to survive my shot you would turn up here. Turnbull sent word the moment you set foot ashore. We were waiting not four hours away."

Dagget grabbed Jack's arm with a strength only his conviction could have lent his wounded body. "Do you think I don't know that my hounding you is what made you into a monster even the trash inhabiting this island fear?!!"

"Calm down, Man!" Blackjack hissed, glancing for a moment at the door to the surgery and hoping Malcolm's raised voice didn't arouse any curiosity. "If you don't I swear I'll empty the entire bottle of the sawbones' laudanum down yer bloody throat!"

Dagget relaxed slightly and Jack breathed an inward sigh of relief. "What's done is done and there is precious little you, or I can do to change it. Now listen and listen well. As long as they believe that I still hold a grudge against you neither Mad Jack, nor Gander will think to hold one themselves. I will pretend to be cold and hostile towards you, Cousin. That is the only way they will believe it and keep their sympathies with you. I didn't forgive you, or risk my own life dragging you through the jungle just to have you die from neglect now. You must never let them know that I forgave you! Never!"

Before Malcolm could answer either way the door to the surgery began to open. In a flash Blackjack had the razor open in his hand, thumbing the edge. He winked to Malcolm as Duckie entered the room.

"What in God's name do you think your doing?!" He shouted.

Blackjack turned to the doctor with his most evil grin. "I was thinkin' a' giving Dagget the closest shave he ever had. Startin' just below his right ear."

"But..." Drake Gander began.

"But nothing, Sawbones!" Roberts scowled, pointing at the startled doctor with the blade. "I warned ye a' the consequences a' leavin' me alone with this dog! But ye wouldn't listen! I be not near as hurt as ye all seem ta think! Now, if'n ye'll be kind enough ta excuse me, I'll be gettin' along ta me own digs." He glanced at Malcolm scornfully for a moment. "The air in here stinks!"

Blackjack closed the razor with a snap and shoved it into the sheath behind his belt. Pushing past the open mouthed surgeon he slammed the door behind him. Once alone in the narrow hall he allowed himself to lean against the wall until his head stopped spinning. Then using it to support himself began to make his way to the Knight Hammer's crew quarters.

[Martin Montgomery]

Martin burst through the hatch and out onto the deck of the "Lobo" coming to a full stop only when he noticed it was very early morning and the decks lamps were turned down too low too see well with his eyes used to the comparative brightness of the galley. Stopping to let his eyes adjust he stood stock still in the shadow of the new mast to catch his breath. Thats when he heard soft sobbing,he recognized Captain Wolfe's low voice and froze realizing that he had chanced upon a private moment between the two. His Captains,seemingly,had reached another truce in their battle of wits and Martin could hear them moving towards the Captain's Cabin,a squeal of delight coming from WW. Not wishing to disturb their ......discusion the big cook stood still so he wouldn't be spotted. "As if either of them see anything but each other at the moment!" he thought to himself. That's when he heard another whispered exchange,but not from the retreating Co-Captains! His eyes now used to the soft light cast by the waining moon he could barely make out the night watch,who obviously had fallen on Lilaney's bad side,for she stood behind him speaking softly into his ear the glittering edge of one of her daggers at his throat! Martin started to move forward thinking to stop the young woman but even as he gathered himself for the move she reversed the dagger and cuffed the sailor behind his ear,expertly knocking him unconscious! Lil then moved back to where,to Martin's surprise,Elinor stood,her bodice dagger at the ready! Lil smiled at Elinor and said in a low voice "Guess I have the night watch, want to tell Martin that I could use some Cocoa about breakfast time?" The scribe returned "Think I'll keep you company until dawn, if I fall asleep, wake me if anything else interesting happens!" She moved to an empty rain barrel and sat on it opening her personal journal. Martin,smiling in the near dark,nodded to himself and slipped back down the Galley hatchway "I must remember to bring them some hot chocolate in a few hours." He thought  "The "Knight Hammer" crew may not be on her decks but they were joined by such a camaraderie that they watched out for each others best intrests like family. The big cook went below and began his search for Briggs,the "Lobo's" steadfast First-Mate and Captain Wolfe's most trusted lieutenant,holding the rolled oilskin wrapping that had covered his wonderful new boots,gifted to him from the giant merchant,Rubin. coming to the correct cabin door Martin neglected to knock,his excitement clouding his judgement, turning the handle he stepped inside, "Wake up Briggs! I have important inf.........OOooooffff!!!!" His head ringing from the impact against the solid bulkhead and his right arm ,which still held the oilskin,behind his back in a most painfull position,Martin reacted instinctively! His left hand pushed him away from the wall and he felt the grip on his right loosen slightly. Taking a step back he turned into the pressure hold and was able to wrench his arm free....and faced the wide dark tunnel of a pistol's barrel! The light from a lamp in the hallway spilled though the still open door, showing Briggs standing there dressed only in his breeches,holding the pistol steady aimed directly at Martin's right eye!! "One more move and it'll be your last!" he barked out,his other hand still rubbing the sleep from his own bleary eyes. "Martin! You IDIOT!!!  Do you realize that you could have.....I could have ......And then SHE would have....... Oh I need a drink!!!!" Uncocking the pistol and tapping the big man's nose with it he asked "Will you join me?" He tossed the weapon on the narrow bunk and moved to a cabinet,removing a half filled bottle of Jamaica Rum "Oh yes ,that's right." You don't drink! Shaking his head in mute wonder Briggs removed the bottles cork with his teeth and spit it across the small room, turning the bottle up he didn't stop until the half was a quarter. "Aahhhh! Good stuff!" He offered the bottle once more "Are you sure? You look a bit unsteady!" Visably swallowing Martin shook his head then moved to the small map table. Laying the oilskin down he unrolled it fully and asked "Briggs,what do you make of this?"         

[lilaney]

Elinor's gentle breathing confirmed to Lil that she was no longer awake.
Lil leaned against the helm and watched the pier.
Elinor shifted slightly to get more comfortable in the pile of line she had found and gave a soft snore and went still agian. Lil smiled gently at her.
Who knew?
'She's got an iron will' Lil thought as she watched a small boy steadily working his way down the pier; pick-pocketing any unconcious body he came across.
"hey."
Lil turned her head slowly around to see Julian on the quarterdeck looking up at the helm, at her.
Lil nodded but gave no reply, the few lamps giving light only bathed his face.
He looked tired.
"Is Elinor up there with you?"
Nod
Julian shuffled his feet and looked down.
"Um, could you tell her to meet me topside tomorrow, when she had time? I-I need to talk with her."
Lil could practically feel how nervous he was, she almost smiled.
"Aye, I'll pass the word along. But, don't go blaming me if'n she don't show."
Julian gave a quick jerk of the head in confirmation that his message would be passed along, and disapeared from view.
The body of the helmsman twitched in his sleep. Lil toed him with her foot.
He was alive.
"I bet you're a nice one, don't even snore."
She mumbled as she moved a bit away from him and closer to the rail.

The pick-pocket on the pier seemed to be done, he had dissapeared from site.
There were a couple of El Lobo crewmen staggering gayly down the pier, trying to sing a bawdy song.
They had the words all wrong, and their drunken high pitch verse was piercing to her ears.
They made it up the gangplank, past the quarterdeck, and passed out near the mast, snoring as they soon drifted off to sleep.

"Do you ever sleep?"
Lil sensed his presence, but, didn't wish to acknowledge him.
He moved over to the rail and leaned on it, a few feet from her.
"I would find it odd to come up on deck and see no less than four people lying prone on the deck, if it were anyone else but you."
Their was jest in his tone, but, Lil stoutly ignored him, choosing instead to peer out past the docks and count the lighted windows of the town.
Drake looked over at Lil, her profile softened by the dim light behind her.
"You would have made a good doctor, I mean, if you were a man and all."
That caught Lil's attention, she whipped her head and body around and faced the doctor.
"What?"
Then, she caught the gleam in his eye. He was making fun of her!
"Yes, truly! If you hadn't been a girl, I bet there wouldn't be a ship out there that wouldn't have taken you on as their barber-surgeon post-haste!"
"Do you enjoy making me mad?"

Drake darted a look at her.
"No, but, you only seem to have two modes. Mad or asleep."
"If you do not want to be body number five topside, get on with what you have to say, then leave me in peace."
Drake turned around and leaned on his elbows against the rail.
"Just wanted a chat, that's all. Can't sleep."
Lil calmed down a bit, but, kept on her gaurd.
"So, since you so obviously wanted my attention, what topics did you wish to discuss?"
"You."
Lil took an involuntary step back.
"Me?"
Drake nodded his head, he spied Elinor's rain barrell and with the ease born of a sailing man, sat right down on the deck and leaned against it.
Lil looked down at the man.
"Why me?"
Drake gave a shrug and rested his arm on his bent knee.
"Why not?"
He sensed her gaurd go up. As she relaxed her pose and gave a noncommital shrug.
"Not much to talk about."
"Then, this conversation won't take long."
Lil looked around the ship, it was peacefully quiet, dawn would be approaching in a few hours, there was time to talk. Taking a deep sigh, she finally leaned against the helm and arms crossed over her chest she looked at him.
"What do you want to know?"
He smiled, and felt a thrill of victory.
"Everything."
Lil toed the nail that was sticking out slighty from the board.
"Even the squishy bits?"
Drake snorted a laugh and nodded.
"Lay on Macduff."
Lil sighed and poured out her heart and soul, making the few hours to dawn simply fly by for Dr. Gander.
Too bad it was all a lie.

[Martin Montgomery]

 "What do you make of this?" The "Lobo's" First Mate stopped rubbing his eyes and focused his attention on the unrolled oilskin. "What!?" He exclaimed "You woke me from a sound sleep for THIS?!?!" Glowering at the big cook as Martin calmly pulled out his pipe and began filling the bowl. Smiling at Briggs widely he opened the glass of a nearby lamp and lit the fragrent tobacco. "Now watch this!" He told Briggs. Leaning down close to the tabletop and drawing deeply from the pipes stem he blew the deep blueish grey smoke across the oilskin laid out on top of the charts. "Martin,I appreciate the fact that you have been working very hard,getting the "Lobo's" galley squared away after the small bit of trouble we had that led us to this island of misfits and malcontents,but this is going a bit far!!" He rubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes tiredly as Martin kept blowing the fragrent smoke across a bit of old oilskin. "I was dreaming of a time,not so long ago,before we took on you,your crew and Captain Wolfe renewed his......relationship with your dubious Captain......Bright." Martin drew on his pipe again,Briggs sighed and kept going. "We were fighting for our lives off the shore of a small island inhabited by savage pygmy headhunters. Swarms of the little buggers were paddling out to the "Lobo" in those little dugouts,they threw these little short barbed spears that had line attached and if you got hit ,you were hauled over the side like a fish!!" Warming to his story,Briggs went on "They climbed the very sides of the ship and fell on the crew with murderous intent! That was peaceful compared to THIS!!" The First Mates eye was drawn to a familiar looking stain on the back of Martin's oilskin. "That looks like a compass rose!" He exclaimed with surprise. Martin blew one more puff of smoke across the chart table and gave the stunned man a satisfied  grin. "That, my good Briggs,is a message from Rubin! I asked him if he could help us find where Cade was taking the "Knight Hammer"!" "You WHAT!!!" Briggs exploded,fully alert now! "Do you know that there is an uneasy truce between the Pirates and the people who live here? No one sees anything! If someone were to break the truce,well the consequences would be severe! You threatened the man's life,family and livelihood with that comment! It's a wonder he would still trade with us!!" Intently looking at the now visable chart on the back of the oilskin.Briggs took the lamp from its holder and held it where the light spilled across the chart. "Look at that!" A rough finger traced the surface "La Ville du Traitre,Tortuga,Glenlivet and dozens of uncharted islands where water and supplies have been cached!  This is a Merchant's Map!" Excitedly he turned to Martin, "This is incredible! Most of these islands have not been professionally charted! There is always a chance of hitting an underwater reef or submerged wreck. This is very good but why would Rubin give them to you?" Martin's sausage sized finger stabbed at the slowly fading map. Briggs peered at it intently. "Cade's Cache"  He read aloud. "I've got to show the Captain!!"

[Elinor Hakebourne]

As the Sun began to announce its arrival on the horizon, Elinor found her eyes fluttering open after a satisfying night of sleep.

Satisfying, save the crick in her neck she got from sleeping on the line all night. Massaging her neck, she resolved to find her bed next time she was so eager for sleep. Glancing around her, she found Duckie and Lil in intent conversation about who knew what. But, from the sounds of things, Lil was telling the El Lobo's surgeon all about her life. Elinor, making as little sound as possible, to stay as invisible as possible, listened in. She didn't know much about Lil's life before they had met, and the young scribe wondered whether any of what she was telling the doctor had a grain of truth in it.

"Pretty fancy tale you're spinning, Lil," Elinor mumbled, startling Lil so much that she nearly tipped herself overboard. "Elinor! Watch yourself, scaring me like that! I don't fancy a swim this morning!" She exclaimed. Elinor grinned. "Just keeping you on your toes, friend."

[Welsh Wench]

Wench opened one eye to the dawn's light starting to break through the porthole.
'Uhhh..!' she groaned.  The effort to open her eye hurt her right to the top of her head. She opened the other eye and the pain chased to the exact spot.
She raised her head up with great effort and then looked at the headboard.
'This isn't Briggs' quarters....'

She sat up too quickly and the room started spinning. Or was it the bed?
'If I am in the Captain's quarters, then where is the Captain?'
She looked for any telltale sign that he had made himself at home in his own bed and didn't see any. She lifted the sheet and saw she was still in her chemise.
'That's a good sign. Even though clothes can be shifted around...'
Suddenly she heard a soft snore from what appeared to be under the bed. With great trepidation, she leaned over the side of the bed.
There, peeking out from under the bed was a pair of feet. The rest of the body had rolled under.  She quietly got out of bed and then looked closer.
Captain Jack Wolfe was rolled in a blanket, clutching a pillow to his chest.
A part of Wench had softened when she realized that Jack, although he was entitled to conjugal rights, took the high road and didn't take advantage of the situation.
She straightened up too fast and had to sit down quickly on the bed.
'I feel like I did when I was pregnant with Zara....'
She rose carefully and stepping over Mad Jack's feet, she headed out the cabin door.

'Must..see..Duckie...headache powder.....'
She walked towards the infirmary, holding onto the wall and taking babysteps along the way. Pausing outside of Briggs' quarters, she heard the muted voices of the quartermaster and....Martin? Maybe he is taking Briggs' breakfast order.
Pushing the door to the infirmary, Wench whispered, "Duckie? Are you around?"
"He's not here...but will I do?"
She whirled around to look into the face of Malcolm Daggett.

He was grinning, his arms folded behind his head. Wench walked over as steady as she could.
"Well, well, well! Malcolm Daggett! Long time no....um...see."
He laughed. "I'd say so. Are you here as an angel of mercy to minister to the broken and dispirited...again?"
She retorted, "No, I am looking for Dr. Gander. He has something for...an upset stomach."
"He's not here but I am sure he will be back. Care to wait?"
She looked at him dubiously and said, "I remember the last time I saw you injured and beaten up, Malcolm."
"Ah, yes! So do I.  Have a seat and let's talk about old times, shall we?"
She rubbed her temples and said, "I'd really rather not."
"Headache?"
"Only one that goes from one side of my head to the other."
She looked around and saw that no one else was in the infirmary.
"Where's Black Jack Roberts?"
"I guess he had few things to do so it is just you and me here."
She laughed derisively. "Good thing you have a punctured lung. I'd start to worry again."
He laughed, "Good to see you too, Gisele."

"So...did your ribs heal up alright? No lingering effects?"
"Not that I could tell. I never did thank you for taking me in that night."
"You were a bloody mess. Ribs broken, a black eye...I was just glad you weren't spitting your teeth out!  I refuse to consort with men who smile with their gums. Kind of like some witch of a woman I knew...never could stand her."
"I was grateful you got Amos to help me back to your room. If I had been left in the alley, I would have been at the very least emptied of my pockets."
"If you had been left there, you would have had your throat slit. That side of town is notorious for leaving no one to complain to the law."
"I'm glad you were able to break my fever with those herbs. Where did you learn the ministrations anyways?"
"I read it...in a book somewhere."
"It was wonderful, Gisele---or should I call you 'Honour', as that seems to be your name.  All of it. Best week I ever spent recovering."
She felt her face flame.
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Malcolm."

Malcolm propped himself on his elbow and said, "I am guessing this has to do with my school chum Jackie."
"Jackie?"
Malcolm shrugged. "We all had names. Drake was 'Duckie' and I was 'Squints'.  But Jack was different. We really never did find a name for him. He seemed to be above it all. And now it turns out you are married to him. You must be newlyweds. I mean, it was about six months ago that I saw you last."
Her cheeks got red and she said quietly, "Jack and I were married about two years ago."
"Oh...he's been away at sea and you got lonely, is that it?"
She said hotly, 'If it was any of your business, Malcolm Daggett, we were separated!"
"Doesn't matter! I ended up trysting with a married woman!"
"Oh, and like that hasn't happened before? And another thing, I think you weren't as hurt as you pretended to be! I think you pretended just so you'd have a place to stay! With benefits!"
"I didn't hear any complaining from you, Mademoiselle Gisele! In fact, I think you downright enjoyed it!"
She turned on her heel to go and as she put her hand on the doorknob, Malcolm said, "First me and then Cade..."
"Cade?"
"Cade Jennings."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Black Jack told me you were involved with Cade. Did you not know that Cade was our cousin? Black Jack's mother and Cade's and mine were all sisters. OH, this is a hoot!"
Malcolm started to laugh but ended up coughing.
"Small world, Gisele--or Honour--you bed Cade, me and my chum Jack. Only you wed him. Now, if you add Black Jack Roberts to the list, you will have won the trifecta!"
She opened the door and flung back at him, "I never let a good pair of boots go to waste. You never know when you may need them."
And with that she slammed the door to the infirmary.

Malcolm smiled to himself. 'Still has the same spirit.'
He shook his head. 'Wonder how she managed to get Mad Jack Wolfe to take the vows....'
He laughed out loud. 'Of all the ones to get caught....Mad Jack?'

As Wench walked past the door to Briggs' cabin, she heard their low voices.
'Paid cash?'  We always do, Martin...unless we can get Jack's line of credit.
She made her way to the captain's quarters, wondering if Jack was up yet.
'Do I drag him out by his feet or do I yank him out the other side by his ears....?'
She opened the door, saw his feet still sticking out from under the bed. With all her volume and decibels, she yelled, "HONEY? I'M HOME!"