PRELUDE TO EL LOBO DEL MAR

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

They entered the tavern to see Bonita picking up her cards and putting them back in the leather box she kept them in. Jack noticed the black candles and hoped Honour didn't see them. Bonita said darkly, "De tavern is closed for food, Jack Wolfe. Him wantin' food, him gettin' it himself."
Honour found herself instinctively drawing closer to Jack. The sooner they were out of Castara, the better she would feel. Bonita's presence sent shivers down her back. Like two opposite magnetic fields they were.
Jack said hurriedly, "No need for any food, Bonita, dear. Honour and I had our fill already. We are going to retire for the night. We shall see you in the morning."
Bonita suddenly smiled, "Aye. Dat ye shall. Bonita want to be sure to say 'goodbye' to de great Captain and him lovely bride."
They turned and headed up the stairs.

Once in their room, Honour dropped her wet chemise and reached for her dressing gown. Jack opened the French doors.
Honour sniffed the air. "Do you smell that?"
Jack said, "What do you mean?"
"Patchouli."
"How do you know what patchouli is?"
"I worked in a seaport tavern, dear. Don't you remember? Anyways, a trader came in with the most luxurious silk and showed it to me. I noticed the smell and asked him about it. He said the silks were packed with the herb to ward off moths."
"Strange, though. I always associated the scent with Bonita. She wears a scent like that. But she knows better than to come into the room. Must be something outside wafting in."

A wave of guilt washed over Honour. The trader was no lie. But the 'trader' was Captain James Blake and the silk in question was silk he left her as a going-away present.
Only he was the one going away. Jack would never know that very silk was the dressing gown she now wore.

She tilted her face up to meet his and put her arms around his neck, drawing him close to her. "I think I shall miss Castara Bay. It has been a wonderful honeymoon, darling."
He picked her up and carried her over to the bed and chuckled, "And it isn't over yet, love."

_______________________________________________________________

As she laid there in Jack's arms, her head on his chest, she listened to his rhythmic breathing as he drifted off to sleep. She willed herself not to cry. It was their last night on shore and she was filled with trepidation at the crossing back to Barbados.
'If we can only get back to Barbados safely, I know I can convince him to give up this life. Perhaps even a new life in the New World. I heard the French are planning a port on a very wide river...and it would be a chance to start a new life. No more running. For either of us. And it would be just the thing to erase Rhys' memory from my heart...'
She snuggled back into the crook of his arm and soon she too was asleep.

Jack awoke to the delicate scent of jasmine. He slowly opened his eyes to find Honour smiling up at him as she traced slow, lazy circles on his chest with her fingertip. A cool breeze wafted over them, causing Honour to shiver slightly. He pulled her close and stroked her silken hair. "Don's fret, darling. As long as I draw a breath, I'll be there to keep you warm."
Honour never lifted her head for fear that he'd see the sadness in her eyes. "Please don't tease me, Jack," she said quietly. "How can you keep such a promise when I know full well you'll be off a-pyrating?"
"How many sugar plantation owners and gentleman farmers have you heard of that go sailing off on the account when they have a wife and family to care for?"

She stared at him in utter disbelief. "Who are you, and how did you get into my bed? Where is my husband? I warn you, he is positively the most fearsome pyrate in the entire Caribbean!"
"Maybe he got a better offer, and decided to take it," he smiled.
Honour was overcome with shock and joy. "You... you what? She climbed atop Jack and began showering him with kisses. She paused momentarily as wicked smile played across her lips. "Oh, you really are my husband!"

"Easy, Honour!" he laughed. "I have to warn you, there are some minor provisions..."
"Provisions?" She gave him a dubious look. "Like what, exactly?"
"We have to buy out land near the water."
"Granted!" She leaned close to kiss him.
"And... I get to keep a boat."
"A boat? Just how big of a boat?"
"A simple fishing boat. One mast."
"No guns?"
"No guns. I'd hate to scare the fish."
"Granted!! Shall we seal our agreement?"
"I suppose we we could shake hands or something."
Honour shifted her body, and seductively brushed her lips against his. "Or," she whispered, "you could shut up and make love to me."
"Deal."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"No! Careful with that! Jack!" Honour shouted.

Jack looked out the door of their room to see two of his crewmen wrestling the last of Honour's trunks through the tavern door. "Oi! What the lady said! Easy on the door!" he called down.

She turned from the railing with an incredulous look on her face.
"Oh! You meant the chest, didn't you? Sorry about that, darling," Jack winked at her.
Honour slipped her arms around his waist. "Captain Wolfe, would you be so cavalier about things if I parked your ship the way your crew handles my luggage?"
"Dock."
"What?"
"'Dock'. It's a very specific, uniquely nautical term."
"Which means...?"
"Um, 'park'." He kissed her on the forehead. "No more talk of scuffing up the hull! It's bad luck," he teased.

"That's the last of it all. Would you care to eat before we go aboard?" he asked.
"No, I'm fine until we set sail, thank you. Leaving port seems to give me a nervous stomach," Honour lied. What she really wanted was to be of the island, away from Bonita, and done with the crossing to Barbados as quickly as possible. No matter how Jack reassured her, she was still filled with dread.
As they descended the stairs, Muir appeared at the door and barked insistently.
"It looks like someone's anxious to get under sail!" Jack laughed.
"I know exactly how he feels," she said quietly.

The couple walked along the winding path to the dockyard, talking about everything and nothing. Muir jogged at their side, occasionally running ahead to nip at a colourful butterfly. Without warning, the dog pricked up his ears and ran off into the jungle.
"Muir! Muir, no! Come back!" Honour cried. She put her fingers to her lips and gave a piercing three-note whistle but he wouldn't respond. She grabbed the hem of her dress to chase after him, but Jack gently restrained her.
"He's probably off after a lizard or some other wee beastie. I'll fetch him, love. No use you tearing that new dress of a bit of folly." With that, he took off after the wayward Muir.

"Bloody hell, that doggy's a fast one!" Jack panted as he ran. "Muir! Oi! Here, boy! Damn it, slow down! Muir!" he yelled. He heard playful barking just ahead, and to his relief he spied the wolf-dog in the clearing ahead.

Standing beside Honour's pet was Bonita.

"Bonita!! What in blazes are you doing out here?" He was relieved to see that Muir wasn't eating anything.
"Him little wife seem to have lost somet'ing," Bonita smirked. "An' was Bonita to miss de great Captain Jack Wolfe before him set sail on anot'er grand adventure? Him never leave wit'out saying goodbye before. Jack forget him manners now him a married man?" she asked sarcastically. "Why de hurry to leave Castara and Bonita? Could it be dat pretty little bride him bring among us carry off more dan Jack Wolfe's heart, but him head as well?"
Jack was taken aback and more than a little intimidated by her accusatory tone. "Of course not!" he snapped. He shoved down the urge to become defensive as best he could. "Really, Bonita. You've been sullen and out of sorts ever since we arrived. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous."

She shot him a look that made him want to run.
"Jealous?! Tell me dis - when have Bonita's bed ever been a place him not welcome? Name me one time!"
Jack stammered, feeling for all the world like a trapped rabbit.
"Dat because it never happen, Jack Wolfe!" She drew a deep breath, then waved her hand dismissively. "But him have chosen, and made him bond wit' anot'er. De Great Captain want what he want. It matter no more to me.

He almost laughed with relief. "So, you're good with it then?"
Bonita looked at him momentarily in disbelief, then chuckled despite herself. "If dat ease Jack Wolfe's mind, den yes."
"Always good to have the blessings of a friend," he smiled nervously.
She gave him a dark smile as she pulled her black lace shawl around her. "Speakin' of blessings, come wit' me."
"Go with you? Where, exactly?" He looked around furtively, praying to himself that no other surprises were about to stroll, or worse, toddle, onto the scene.
"Are him in such a hurry to get back to de little wife dat Bonita cannot read de cards? It always were our tradition, no?"

Jack's eyes lit up. Her readings had always shown him where and when to strike, and how successful he'd be on his cruises. She had never been wrong, not once, and he'd become fabulously wealthy because of her talents.
"A reading? Um, of course, yes! You know how important tradition is to me, darling." He stepped closer to her, emboldened by her seeming change in demeanour. "I know I can depend on you for the turn of a friendly card. Please, lead on."

The dark woman looked into his eyes, then turned and walked to a large rock. It was roughly the size of a tree stump, and conveniently flat enough on top. She knelt before it and produced her worn deck of cards from a pouch at her waist. Jack knelt on one knee opposite her as she shuffled the deck. Muir laid down beside him and rested his head on Jack's boot.

"As always, wit' our 'tradition', t'ree cards Bonita draw, and t'ree only," she intoned. "D'ese cards, dey show de way of Jack Wolfe voyage. Dey show what will be."
He watched eagerly as she closed her eyes and drew the first card. It depicted ten interlocking swords suspended over a sinking, ruined ship.
"This must be good, yeah? I'm the swords, defeating my prey?" he said with barely contained excitement.
Bonita shook her head solemnly. "No. Jack Wolfe is de ship."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"How in blazes is that possible?" he gasped.
"De swords, dey be forces beyond de control of anyone. Dis be de card of sudden disaster. De card of Karma." Bonita's normally dark eyes narrowed to the point they appeared black on black.
"Not funny, Bonita. Not one bit. I know you've been upset with me, but I thought we were past all that. Aren't we?" He tried to settle himself. "The card has to be wrong. Draw again."

She sighed impatiently. "Dis next card, it eit'er confirm or negate de first. Den we see who know de cards better; Jack Wolfe, or Fate." Closing her eyes, she drew again and laid the card face up before Jack. It depicted a massive tower being blown apart by lightning, meteors, and cannon fire, with people at it's base fleeing from the falling debris.
"Let me guess. I'm neither the lightning nor the cannons?  The meteors, perhaps?" he asked dryly.
"De Tower represent all Jack Wolfe have built over de years.  Him empire.  Everyt'ing him have gain by trick and wickedness, dey cannot be held or sustained." Her eyes grew sad as she continued. "De ones dat find shelter and comfort near him will be injured or ruined as well..."

"Enough of this charade!" he growled, more in frustration than anger. "You've obviously stacked the deck in some pitiful attempt to manipulate me, to shake my confidene. Farewell, Bonita." He got up to walk away. "Muir, come!"
"Damn you, Jack Wolfe!" she spat. "Bonita be many t'ings, but she never a cheat! De cards are what dye are, even if him refuse to believe de trut' dey tell you." She slammed the deck down on the rock. "Him call Bonita - after all dis time and all we share - a cheat and a liar? Den draw de last card for himself. Do it! Unless him afraid."
She sat back with her arms crossed, seething in anger and hurt. As he watched, a small tear appeared in the corner of eye and trailed down her cheek.

In all the time he'd known her, he'd found her to be many things. But a liar was not one of them. He did his best to keep up an air of suspicion, even though she was right. Jack Wolfe, the infamous and feared pirate, was indeed scared of what the next would reveal. He reached down and cut the deck, then cut it again. When he glanced up briefly to gauge her reaction, she closed her eyes and turned her face away. He bit his lip and turned over the third and final card. What it showed him made his blood run ice cold.

Even he could clearly read it's meaning. A man and woman facing one another, but not touching. And towering over them, keeping them from one another with a huge sword driven into the earth -- the Devil.

Jack's mind reeled. With a look of confusion and fear on his face, he slowly stood and tried to force something resembling a pleasant smile. "Thank you for such a lovely time, Bonita. It's been thoroughly... interesting. If you'll pardon me, I have a ship to take out. Time and tide, and all that. See you soon." With that, he turned on his heel and walked away as fast as he could without breaking into a run. "Muir!" he called without slowing. The dog cocked his head as he watched Jack race-walk into the jungle, and followed after.

Jack looked back over his shoulder to make Muir was following and that Bonita was out of sight, and broke into a dead run. He wanted off the island and on the open seas as soon as possible.
"Damn, damn, damn! Overreaching your grasp again, you stupid git!" he chided himself as he ran. "The cards said it - the smuggling operation will fail! I've got to get Honour to Barbados and away from this life!" Muir had caught up to him finally, and stayed beside him as they ran.

"Muir! Jack! Where are you?!" Honour called. "Oh, they've been gone too long. Something's happened, I just know it!" She was about to whistle for Muir again when he and Jack exploded out of the treeline and slid to a stop in front of her.

"Jack, what on earth is wrong? You act as if the Devil himself was after you!"
"What?  How did you know?"
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing. Just thought it would be fun to run with Muir. Now, let's be off." He took her by the arm and nearly pulled her off her feet.
"What's gotten into you? We have plenty of time to get to the ship."
"Sorry, darling. Just anxious to get back to the sea." He hooked her arm and tried to ease her none too discreetly into a double-time step.
"Jack - Stop!" She pulled herself free of his grip and put her hands on her hips. "Tell me right now; what is the hurry?"
He took Honour by the shoulders and looked gravely into her eyes. "I can't tell you. Not now. There's no time. Now come on."
"I'm not taking a single step until you be honest with me!"

"How's about I tell you once we're sa-- once we're off the island?" He winced at his verbal misstep.
"You were about to say 'safely', weren't you? Jack, what's happening? Is someone after you? After us?"
"Honour, all I can tell you is that we have to get away from here, and put as much ocean between us and this island as fast as we can. Yes, we are in danger. No, I can't tell you anything else about it. I'm begging you, Honour... Can we please go now?"
She could see the haunted look in his eyes.
"All right, Jack. I trust you," she said guardedly as they walked together again.
"At least I've got that going for me..."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack, Honour, and Muir arrived at the docks in near record time. Briggs spotted them from the deck as he directed the ship's final preparations.
"Cap'n's here early! Step it up, ye laggards!"
Something struck him as odd about their behaviour  as they traversed the dock, but he shrugged it off as one more odd thing in Jack's treasury of odd things.
"Hmph. Jumpin' the gun on me again, eh? Bloody early inspections..." he said to himself. "Shift it, ye dogs, and and be quick about it!"

"Honour, you and Muir go on ahead and board. I'll be with you shortly. Very shortly." Jack kissed her cheek and smiled to reassure her.
"Please hurry," she whispered.
Cade walked up just as she turned toward the ship, and they very nearly collided.
"I'm sorry, Honour. I mean, Mrs. Wolfe. Please pardon my clumsiness," he offered with a broad, sunny smile.
"Mr. Jennings," she replied flatly as she stepped past him, with Muir obediently by her side.
"Good day, Mrs. Wolfe..." he offered, confused by her brusqueness. "Jack! How are you? Ready to sail?"
"Yes, yes, ready and anxious." Jack answered hurriedly.
"Is everything all right, old friend?"
"Aye! Wonderfully well. Couldn't be better. Take care of things while I'm away, yeah? No burning down the tavern!"

He clapped Cade on the shoulder and leaned close to the younger man.
"Meet me in Bridgetown in a week or two's time. No questions, lad. Just do as you're told!" he whispered, then hurried to the gangway.

"Aye, Jack! You can... count on me." Cade trailed off. "I swear, I'll never figure him out."

"Mr. Briggs!"
"Aye, Jack! We're near ready to sail, within an hour or -"
"Now."
"Eh?"
"Now. We're sailing now."
"What's the bloody rush, Jack? The tide's not full in yet."
"Captain's prerogative. They have those lovely cheesy biscuits in Bridgetown, the ones with the parsley flecks, and I'm hungry. Oi!!" he shouted to the crew. "Make ready to cast off!!"
"Jack, for the love of... Do ye even want to know if Duckie's aboard yet?"
"Oh, yes, of course. Is he?"
"Aye, he arrived yesterday, earlier than we expected. He's settled--"
"Good!  If his brandy is on board too, we can cast off like I just ordered."  Jack bit his lip and gave his friend a worried look. "Josiah, I swear I'll explain later. Right now, I want just this ship moving."
Briggs gave him bewildered look. "Aye, Jack. Thy will be done. You heard the Cap'n, lads!!" he cried. "Put yer backs into it! Make ready to cast off those lines!!"
The crew hurried about their tasks at a frantic pace. Jack watched for a moment, then turned his attention to Honour who was waiting near the steps to the quarterdeck.
"Jack!" Briggs called. "What about a few words to the crew?"
"What?"
"The sailin' talk! Ye always give a short talk to the crew when we set off, Jack. It's tradition!"
"I've never cared much for tradition," Jack replied somberly. He took Honour's hand and they climbed to the quarterdeck.

Honour walked to the aft rail and looked out over the island. As her gaze travelled down across the docks, she saw Cade looking back at her. He tipped his hat to her and bowed slightly, never taking his eyes off her. She returned his wave, and turned from the rail to look at Jack. Her husband was at the forward deck rail, looking out over the dominion of his ship. He seemed so secure and in control now, completely different from the panic she'd seen in his eyes just minutes ago.

"Full canvas!! Get us under way!" Jack ordered. The sails unfurled from the yards and filled with with the wind that he was sure would carry them to safety. As the ship began to move forward, he turned back to his wife and joined her at the taffrail. He looked back at the dock and waved a salute to his friend and apprentice, Cade. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure standing on the beach close to the where El Lobo had been docked.

It was Bonita, watching the ship pull away. She was standing at the water's edge in a calico dress with her black lace shawl blowing about her in the breeze. That's when Jack noticed the pennant flying from the ensign staff above his head, and it dawned on him what he was seeing.

Bonita's shawl, which wrapped and unfurled itself about her like some living thing, was moving opposite the wind.

"Honour, do you see that, over on the beach?"
"See what, darling?"
He looked back to find Bonita gone.
"Never mind. It was probably nothing."

[Welsh Wench]

Honour gently laid her hand on Jack's arm and took a deep breath. The salt air seemed to revive her somewhat and calmed her nerves. Certainly it seemed to do that to Jack. He put his arms around her and she laid her body against his.
"How soon before we are in Barbados, Jack?"
"Four days unless we catch a really good wind. Then we may make it in three."
She murmured, "The sooner we get to Barbados, the better I shall feel."
"Did you say something, love?"
"Hmm? No. Just...thinking how much I missed home. I'll check on the land as soon as we get settled into port. We can stay at my room for a few days until we decide where we want to live."
"Why not just stay on the ship when we port?"
"Under the watchful eye of Briggs and your crew? Jack, we have only been married ten days. The room at Castara Bay was delightful, no one to bother us."
"Or hear us."
She blushed and laughed lightly. "Well...that, too."

The two of them stood in silence, watching the island of Tobago fade into the distance. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "Never thought I'd be that happy to put Castara Bay to my rudder."
Honour turned to look at her husband. "Jack, you need to tell me what it was that haunted you so. What happened out there while you were fetching Muir?"
Jack lied, "The Spanish Crown's agents were spotted and I know there may be a small price on my head. I just wanted us to get out of there as fast as we could. Cade would know how to handle them. After all, to all of Tobago, Cade Jennings is just an innkeeper."
"Do you think Bonita would turn you or Cade in?"
Jack looked over the horizon and shook his head. "She hates Spain even more than I do. She would never turn any of us in, no matter how much she ha--no matter how much they offer."

Just then, Honour felt something entwine around her legs and jumped. She looked down to see Li'l Puddin'.
Jack laughed, "Ah, there is Mister Briggs' favorite furball!"
Honour bent down and scooped up the cat and cradled him in her arms. She subconsciously started rocking him, back and forth.
Jack looked at her and said, "Honour, what are you doing?"
"Hmm? Nothing. Why?"
He shook his head. "Is it an instinct with all you women? You get a little thing in your arms and you start rocking it like you had a wee bairn or something."
"I didn't realize I was doing that."
"Aye, well, don't! You make me nervous with that--that maternal whatever you call it."
Li'l Puddin' looked at Jack through slitted eyes and buried himself deeper into Honour's embrace. Muir sat next to her with a quizzical look on his face. Jack reached down and scratched him behind the ears. "She's not ignoring you, boy."
Honour put Li'l Puddin' down. He spied something and ran off to catch it.

"Jack, I'd like to go to our room and unpack a bit."
Jack looked over and saw Briggs standing by the quarterdeck.
"Aye, by all means, darling. I shall like to confer with Briggs anyway. Point of direction, ship's business, all that rot. You go on, I shall be there in a bit."

Honour watched her husband walk over to his best friend and clap him on the shoulder. The two of them walked off. She turned to her best friend and said, "Shall we go, Muir?"
He ran ahead of her, seeming to know where they both belonged.

She looked and saw that her trunks were stored in a corner. She opened the first one and there on top was something she didn't recognize.
It was a lavender lace shawl.
"Oh.....MY!" she gasped.

She carefully picked it up. A note fell from its folds.


                                         In appreciation for a lovely morning chat.
                                                  Your humble servant,
                                                       Cade A. Jennings

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack watched as Honour disappeared below decks. He felt a twinge of regret at having lied to her about his real reason for fleeing Castara. But he knew in his heart that he'd done the right thing, and that he'd do it again if it meant keeping her safe. He looked out over the weather deck as the crew busied themselves stowing the cargo they'd so hastily lashed down earlier. The salt air and bustle of shipboard life were like a balm to his frayed nerves. The most tangible safety he'd ever known were within the confines of his wooden walls. He was staking everything that those walls would protect them from what he'd seen in Bonita's cards.

"The crew's gettin' the last bits squared away," Briggs said, interrupting Jack's reverie. "I figure things should be right and normal shortly. That is, as normal as it ever gets on this ship. Runnin' from a perfectly tranquil island as if it were Davy Jones himself rose up to swallow us all. Right peculiar, some might say..."
"Subtle as a cudgel, Josiah."
"I'm just sayin', Jack. What by God's blood has you in such a state?"
"Something terrible is going to happen at Castara," Jack said in a heavy whisper. "Something devastating."
"What manner of 'terrible'? Have the Spaniards found out about our running trade there? Or did that poppin' jay Barbadian governor sell us out? I never trusted that damned prissy peacock..."
"It's both. Or neither," Jack replied, his frustration showing. "I really don't know."
"I don't follow. Jack Wolfe ain't one to run without good reason."

Jack turned and looked Josiah squarely in the eye. "On the way to the ship, I ran into Bonita."
"Sweet mother and child! What bilge did that witch woman fill you head with?"
"Answer me this, Josiah. Can you name me one single time she's been wrong?
Briggs bit his lip as a troubled look came into his eyes. "You know full well I can't,'cause she never is. That accursed Sight of hers ain't natural. Scares the hell out of me."

"She saw the coming destruction of Castara," Jack whispered. "She saw me losing everything if I stayed."
Briggs stared slack-jawed at his friend. "What about the others? What about Cade? He's the closest thing you have to a son, leastways what you know of!"
Jack looked out over the waters ahead. "Cade is a resourceful young man.  He'll be fine."
"That's all?  Nothin' more for him?"
"I'm doing what I have to, Josiah. Protecting my own, Cade included. He's accounted for, if he chose to listen. The rest are more than capable of fending for themselves. If they weren't, they'd be dead already. Or worse yet, moneyhouse clerks. If I'm out of the picture, as it were, perhaps they'll have a fighting chance."
"Some would say you're tryin' to outrun Fate."
"And what would you say, old friend?"
Briggs looked around thoughtfully at the ship and her crew, and the sea beyond. "Cap'n know what's best for his ship and the crew what cares for her, says I. And them cheesy biscuits sound pretty good right about now."
"Thank you, Josiah."
"I'd say we've got things well in hand here," Briggs offered. "If you'd like, I'll keep an eye on these laggards for ye while you check on that bride of your's."

Jack smiled and nodded his appreciation, then made his way toward the great cabin and Honour.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Honour tried the shawl on. So soft, so delicate. A bit of an intimate gift from someone not her husband. She picked up the note and smoothed it out.
Cade A. Jennings...how forward of you! She couldn't help but smile.

She heard the sound of footsteps. As they paused by the cabin door, she hastily shoved the lavender shawl beneath a few garments.

"Honour, darling? Are you settled in?"
He entered the room just as she closed the lid.
"Aye, my husband. Just looking for...ah! Here it is!"
She produced the hideous key that Jack had given her on their wedding night. He laughed and said, "You still have that horrid piece of shine?"
She turned it over in her hand and said, "Yes, although I don't know why."
She threw it in the trunk and stood up. "Should you not be on the quarterdeck supervising your crew?"
"Briggs generously offered to watch over while I check on you.
"Briggs."
"Yes."
"The same Briggs that breathes hellfire and damnation whenever I show my face in his direction?"
"Aye. That's his way of saying you are a bit of alright."

There was a scratch on the door and Honour opened it. Li'l Puddin' dashed in, jumping on the bed.
Jack laughed, "He usually only comes in here late at night. And then sometimes only to deposit his latest catch on the bed for me to praise him."
She shuddered. "I hope he doesn't do that for my benefit."
She stroked Li'l Puddin' on the head and sat next to him. "Is you a good widdle Puddin?"
Jack winced. "Honour, darling, he is a ship's cat. Not the spoiled pampered pet of royalty!"

He reached over to pet Puddin' and was rewarded with a hiss.
"Well, that is a first! My dear, it seems Li'l Puddin' has succumbed to your charms."
She sat on the bed and picked up a piece of yarn, trailing it back and forth, watching the cat swat at it and jump. Jack laughed and sat down next to her. Puddin' stopped and glared at Jack through narrow slitted eyes.
He jumped up and said, "I guess I am perceived as the 'enemy' now. You, darling, have a new protector."
He leaned over to kiss the top of her head and Puddin' glared at him for interrupting their little game.
He shook his head and said, "Turncoat!"
He walked towards the door and said, "I'll be back around lunchtime. Anything I can get for you, love?"
She looked up from playing with the cat and smiled, "Just you."

[Welsh Wench]

 
Honour spent the morning going through her chests and putting a few things in the chest of drawers. She hung up a few dresses. The rest stayed in the chests. 'No sense unpacking when we shall be leaving the El Lobo. And hopefully for good.' she thought.

Jack came in with two bowls of beef stew and bread on a tray.
"It smells marvelous, Jack. I didn't realize how hungry the sea air can make one."
"It's the cook's...HOLY HELL!"
At that moment, Li'l Puddin' decided to take a flying leap off the chest and landed right in the bowl Jack had just handed Honour. Beef and gravy went flying everywhere----on the bed, on the floor and all over Honour. She sat there, her hands dripping gravy off the ends. Gasping for breath, she shook her fingers, drops of gravy staining her dress.
"PUDDIN'!!!" Jack yelled.
All that could be seen was Puddin's tail as he dashed out the door.

Honour was at the washstand, pouring water into the basin and using a towel to clean off the spots on her dress. Jack was picking up the crockery and scooping up the beef stew with a spoon.
"He really didn't mean it, darling." Jack apologized for the cat.
He heard a sound coming from Honour, her back to him.
"Honour? Honour, don't cry. When we get to Bridgetown, I'll buy you a new dress."
She turned to face him, tears running down her cheeks. She sat down on the bed and gasped, "That had to have been the funniest thing I have seen in a long time, Jack!"
It was then that he realized the tears were not from distress.
She was laughing so hard she was crying.
Jack chuckled, "Aye, well, I guess I can still afford to buy you the new dress."

Jack spent the rest of his day on deck, conversing with his men, consulting his maps and giving directional orders.
Honour spent the afternoon playing with Li'l Puddin', reading a book and throwing a ball for Muir. She looked out the port window and saw nothing but water.
"Muir, when we get to Barbados, I'll make sure you have plenty of room to run. I know it's not much fun for you on a ship."
"Woof!"
"I couldn't agree more!"

She laid down on the bed, Muir sleeping on the floor next to the bed. Before a few minutes had passed, she was asleep herself. Cautiously, the cat crept back in. He climbed onto the bed and stared at her lovely face. Li'l Puddin' batted a strand of her hair on the pillow, then began to knead. He kept kneading and kneading.....

It was dark out when Jack finally came into the cabin. He smiled down at his young bride curled up and fast asleep. There on the pillow next to her, with his tail curled around her face and under her chin was the ship's fearsome cat.
"You traitor! Are we now competitors instead of co-conspirators?" he whispered affectionately. Puddin' stretched out as if to welcome Jack into the vacant space next to his bride.
Jack gently kissed Honour and stroked her hair back and then he had to laugh.
Her hair was a knotted mess.
"Oh, you wicked kitty! Looks like you attempted to give Mrs. Wolfe a new hairstyle!"
Honour stirred and then woke up. She smiled and said, "It's about time you got back here."
She sat up and stretched and ran her fingers through her hair.
"What the....?"
He laughed, "It looks like Li'l Puddin' has decided your hair needed a change."
She walked over to the mirror and reflected back was tangled and snarled. "I didn't even feel him do that. I must have been really tired." She opened the dresser drawer and took out a comb.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!"
Jack walked over to her, put his arms around her and reached over to get a brush out of the drawer. He led her back to the bed and gently began to brush her hair.
"Mmmm...Jack, that feels wonderful! You can brush my hair anytime."
"As you wish, my sweet."
"Jack?"
"Yes?"
"Tell me a bedtime story."
"Oh?" he smiled devilishly.
She threw her dressing gown onto the chair and slid into the bed.
As he lowered his lips to kiss her, she put her finger to his lips.
"First things first, husband of mine."
"And that would be...?"
"Tell me how Puddin' got his name!"
"A bedtime story story then. How could I possibly resist?" he teased.
Honour propped herself up on her pillow and snuggled into the covers. She stole Jack's pillow and hugged it. "Tell me positively everything!" she said with childlike excitement. "Don't you dare leave anything out, not one bit!"

Jack quietly marveled at her ability to be a confident, worldly woman one moment, then playfully childlike the next. The latter was a quality he had lost from himself long ago. "Fine, then. 'How Lil' Puddin' Got His Name'. Chapter One," he intoned loftily. Honour giggled. "We had put in at Nevis after another successful cruise..."
"Oh, not another boring pyrate story," she sighed teasingly as she whacked him with his pillow.
"Oi! Pyrate cate, pyrate story. Now hush. Where was I?"
"A-pyrating," she said through a mock groan.
"Ah, yes. Nevis. We'd gone ashore to celebrate our good fortune and spread some of our newfound wealth."
"On drinking, gambling, women of dubious-"
"Have you always been this talkative during other people's stories? Remind me never to take you to the theatre. May I continue, or do you still have a few things to add?"
"Oh, all right. I'll behave. But I won't like it," she pouted, her eyes full of mischief.
"Whatever shall I do with you, Mrs. Wolfe?"
"Hurry up with the story and you'll find out, Mr. Wolfe."
"That's all the incentive I need." He laughed and leaned close to kiss her, and she stopped him by gently poking her finger in the middle of his forehead.
"Ah! The story?"

"Aye, the story," he sighed. Honour hugged his pillow and rested her chin on it. Puddin' peeked over the pillow at her, then laid down at her side. "We were walking back to the ship sometime after midnight..
"Of course," she quietly interjected, stroking the cat behind his ears.
"... when, as we passed by an alleyway, we heard a sound like a baby's cry. It was so clear and insistent that we decided to see what the matter was. We soon found ourselves at the rear of a tavern or something like that. Someone had set out a large pail of pudding to cool in the night air, and a tiny, hungry kitten had discovered it and fallen in."

"Heavens!" Honour said worriedly. Puddin' rolled onto his side and lazily batted at her fingertips.
"The little fellow could scarcely keep his face above the pudding, and he was too small to climb out. Would have been a goner if we hadn't happened along. So I pulled him out of his predicament, wrapped him in a kerchief, and he ate pudding all the way to the ship. Wee beggar's belly was so swollen with what he'd eaten, he scarcely put up a fuss when I rinsed him off. He's had a taste for anything with cream ever since."

Honour laughed as she sat up. "Such a wonderful story! And you," she said, scooping Puddin' into her arms, "are le chat extraordinaire!" The cat laid back in her arms, purring loudly. He opened one eye and gave Jack a ridiculously self-satisfied look.
"Um, Honour?"
"Yes, my husband?"
"You're doing it again. The cradling thing."
"Of course I am! He's got your nose, after all."
"Aren't you the clever one, darling. I'd swear he's got your ears."
She shot Jack a surprised look, then set Puddin' down on the bed. "Run along, baby. Momma needs to teach your father some manners."

The cat hopped down, crossed over to the table and jumped up on it. He laid down facing the bed with his paws crossed.
Honour pulled back the covers and patted the bed.
"With an audience? Have you no shame, woman?"
"I married a pyrate, didn't I?"
"Good point."

[Welsh Wench]

"Honour?"
"Hmmm?" she murmured drowsily.
"Are you happy?"
"Blissfully. And you?"
She could feel Jack grin in the dark. "Need you ask?"
He hesitated and then asked, "Honour....the others."
"What others?"
"The other men."
She held him close and whispered, "Next to you, they could never hold a candle, darling."
"Honour?"
But all he could hear is her soft breathing as she slept.
He stroked her hair but a small part of him wondered....

The next morning, she stirred and reached over for Jack. The space was empty. In a brief moment of disorientation, she bolted in the bed. She saw Jack quietly putting his boots on.
"Wh-what are you doing, Jack?"
"Getting dressed. I do that sometimes, when I have to be places. I can't spend all my time---" he pointed to the bed---"there."
He moved over to her and embraced her. She kissed him on the neck and he disentangled himself from her embrace. "No, darling, it won't work. Not this time. This is a pyrate ship and I am a pyrate captain and much as I would like to stay, it just isn't possible."
She flopped back on the pillows. "Even the cat deserted me!"
"Aye, but only temporarily. Puddin' shall be back. It's time for breakfast for him. A nice juicy mouse smothered in cream and---"
Honour put her hand to her mouth and turned a lovely shade of green.
Jack said quickly, "Or most likely just a bowl of cream."
"How many more days till we port, Jack? Are we on schedule?"
He chuckled, "First time a pyrate ship has ever been run on a timetable. But yes, today is Tuesday, so we shall be in Barbados Thursday early afternoon at the latest."
She snuggled back into the covers. "For that I shall be delighted. I know of a man--Monsieur Picou, that was planning on going back to France and wanted to sell his land and home. It's a French Creole cottage with a huge wraparound porch on all four sides and a pigeonierre and then there is a gazebo and it's painted white and--"
Jack hurriedly kissed her and said, "Yes, yes, my love, whatever you want and now I really must go on the quarterdeck. It's my job, you know. There is fresh fruit in the bowl on top of the chest. Ta', love."
He slipped into his frock coat and left before she even had a chance to tell him about the fireplaces in each room.

Honour lazed about in bed for another half hour and got up only when Muir scratched at the door. He had taken Jack's shirt and dropped it at her feet first.
She rubbed his ears and laughed, "Yes, Muir, he's a bit of alright, I agree. Now go find him. But don't get under his feet."
She grabbed an apple and some grapes and looked around the room. For a pyrate, he certainly was tidy. She bit into the apple and regarded his chest of drawers thoughtfully. As she chewed, she continued to gaze at it.
Just who ARE you, Captain Jack Wolfe?

She opened the door and looked both ways in the companionway. No sign of Jack. She went back into the room and sat in front of the dresser, popping a grape in her mouth. She casually kicked the dresser. Well, maybe a bit harder than she should. Darn it, the drawer seems to be stuck. Well, I guess it would be the kind thing to fix it for Jack, yes?

She took her sgian dubh and wedged it between the front of the drawer and the chest. Very delicately she slid it back and forth until the drawer moved forward. Son of a gun, it really DOES work!

Assorted articles of clothing. Papers....PAPERS! She drew them out carefully and smoothed them out . A deed for land in Antigua...a deed for the tavern in Castara Bay...what is this? she wondered.
She drew an oval object out. It was a metal frame with a hinged cover. She opened it and saw a miniature.
It was a miniature of a woman.

Honour gazed transfixed on the portraiture of this unknown woman. She had long curling brown hair and dark brown eyes. Around her neck was a delicate gold chain with a single pearl pendant. Honour looked closely at the woman's face. She had a patrician nose and a mouth that promised mirth. She held her head high, her chin in a determined tilt. A woman who had her place in the world and was satisfied with what she was, exuding confidence. But one thing Honour saw reflected in her eyes.
The woman had the look of a woman in love. Honour had seen that look on women before. That gleam in their eye that no one could ever deny.
She wondered if she ever had that look people noticed when she was with Rhys. Did she have it now?
She looked up at the mirror over the dresser. And what she saw startled her.
Because undeniably, there it was.
That gleam.

Honour looked further in the drawer and came across a small cedar chest. She opened it with great trepidation.
Inside was the gold chain with the pearl pendant.

And a small gold ring.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

She closed the box slowly, her emotions in a turmoil. Had Jack been married before even though he denied it? Was she an old sweetheart that he had planned to propose to, hence the ring?
Her mind was swimming with notions.

She stuffed the box and miniature back into the drawer and sat back down on the bed. It was then that she realized she didn't even know when her husband was born. She walked over to the porthole and looked out to a sky of blue. Too nice of a day to stay in the cabin.

She dressed in a simple skirt and white blouse, then donned a pair of boots. Time to get to know a bit of the crew.
Maybe one in particular...

She brushed her hair out and tied it back with a ribbon. Walking down the companionway, she climbed the stairs and stood at the rail, observing what was going on around her as she pretended to look out onto the sea. Jack was nowhere in sight.
Honour walked over to Josiah Briggs who was conversing with the helmsman.
"Pardon me, Mr. Briggs. Have you seen my husband?"
Josiah almost said, 'Who?' until he realized she meant Jack. He imperceptibly shook his head as he still could not believe that Jack was now a married man. Married and to a young lass, no less!

"He's in the map room with the navigator, goin' over some charts for future cruises."
"Future?"
"Aye, after we take on supplies in Barbados."
"When did he tell you this?"
"When he left with the navigator."
"I see."

She turned on her heel. He called after her, "Miss---Mrs. Wolfe, he won't be too long. Ye want me to send him down to ye?"
Her mind was reeling. He was still going roving? Surely Briggs misheard him!
She flung over her shoulder, "That is quite all right, Mr. Briggs. I don't intend to sit in the room. I'd like to explore the ship on my own."

She climbed up to the upper deck and sat in the sun. The sea air was calming her nerves but her mind was trying to assimilate it all. Perhaps Briggs was wrong. Maybe he assumed Jack would still be commanding El Lobo. That had to be it. Jack is all set to become a sugar plantation owner.
That must be the explanation.

Muir found his way to the top of the deck, assuming his play bow posture. She reached over and pet the wolf-dog, then tossed a ball he had given her. Right behind him was Jack.
"Ah, there you are, darling! I only have a few minutes, but Briggs told me you were up there. Enjoying this fine day, I see. Good!"

Honour smiled as best she could. "Aye, Jack. The sun is wonderful. I just couldn't stay in the cabin any longer. Too many memories. Do you know what I mean about memories, Jack?"
He kissed the top of her head and said, "I remember last night, if that is what you are referring to!"
She sighed and said, "Yes, I guess that is what I meant."
He gave Muir a bone to chew on and said, "I shall be busy with ship's business a bit longer, but tell you what, love. I'll get all this sorted out and turn the ship over to Briggs. He knows it so well anyway."
He turned and went downstairs.
She sat there wondering if Briggs would be forthcoming.
No, men stuck together. They always have, they always will. That was one thing the tavern taught her.
A small voice inside her said, 'And have you told Jack everything about YOUR past, Rhiannon?'
She said out loud to no one, 'Shut up.'

Towards the late afternoon, Honour went back to the main deck. There Briggs sat enjoying his pipe.
"Mind if I sit with you a bit, Briggs?"
He eyed her suspiciously but said, "No, ma'am."
"Nice day."
"Yes, ma'am."
"You don't like me, do you, Briggs."
"Ma'am? I got no reason not to."
"But you don't like the fact that he is married, do you?"
Briggs treaded carefully. "It ain't for me to like or dislike, Mrs. Wolfe. As long as the captain be contented and his crew obedient, that's what's important."
"Has it ever bothered you before?"
"What?"
"Sailing with a wife? I mean, a woman?"
Briggs took one last draw on his pipe and stood up.
"I'd best be returning to me duties on the quarterdeck."
He tipped his hat, "Ma'am."
She frowned. 'That didn't go so well.'

Honour headed back to the great cabin to sort through her trunks, read a book.... and maybe take another look at the drawers before Jack got back.
'Working on mysteries without any clues, that's what it is.....who IS that woman?' she puzzled.
And she felt a twinge of jealousy.
How well do I know the man who shares my bed? Will I ever?
She sighed and opened up the door, determined to find out about the man she married.
Whatever it took.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Ship's business had consumed Jack's attention into the evening. He felt a bit guilty about Honour being left on her own for the lion's share of the day. Their closeness while at Castara had spoiled him to having her near. He was a man wedded to two women; his wife and his ship. No use worrying about balancing the two, he thought. Once they settled in at Barbados, he'd only have to worry about one.

Dinner had been brought to the cabin not long after his arrival. He and Honour chatted about the day pleasantly enough, but he could not help but notice that she seemed unusually distracted. Before long, her attention was focused on picking at her food.

"Do you not care for the chicken, love? I can send for something else if you wish," Jack offered. After a pause he added, "And I killed Briggs over tea."
"What?" she said, snapping out of her thoughts. "Oh, no. The chicken's fine, really. I'm just not very hungry tonight. You and Josiah had tea? That sounds nice."
"You've been preoccupied all evening," he said as his brow furrowed with concern. "Pray, tell me, Mrs. Wolfe. What is worrying your mind so?"
"It's... everything has been such a whirlwind for us, Jack. It's all happened so quickly that I'm only now starting to comprehend -"
"Honour?"
"Yes?"
"Settle down, sweetheart. I have nothing to hide from you. What do you want to know?"

"Everything!" she blurted.

"Everything? That's a tall order. Could take all night, but I'll give it a go. First, the world came into being," he started.
"Jack! Don't make fun of me! I'm serious. I know nearly nothing about you outside of tall tavern stories and our scant time together. Where were you born? Have you any brothers or sisters?" Honour cringed inside at how the words tumbled out of her, but there was no going back now.

"Ah. There it is, then." He took a mouthful of claret and slowly swallowed it. "You want that particular everything. It's been a long time since I've thought about the past. Even longer since anyone's cared to ask. Let's see what I can remember." He refilled their glasses and leaned back in his chair.
"Legend has it I sprang forth into the world fully formed, a cutlass in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other..." Jack began.

Honour gave him a stern look of disapproval.

"All right, all right! So much for tavern stories. From the beginning, then. I was born in July of 1629, in Hampshire, near Portsmouth, to Charles and Edith Wolfe. I'm the youngest of three children. My father was a master shipwright. A brilliant man, him. He not only built ships, he designed them. He would have loved this one. Taught me a lot about what makes a proper vessel, and what's needed to take a middling ship and make it a superior one."
He took another sip of wine before continuing. "My sister, Victoria, is a musician. She was still in London, last I heard. Then there's my brother, Thomas... ah, Thomas. An decorated officer of the Commonwealth's Navy, that one. He never approved of my career choice from what I've heard. But then, I never cared for his. A fine man."


"You sound very proud of him, in spite of your differences," Honour said quietly.
"I am! And I pray we never meet on the sea. He's the only man on earth I could accept losing a battle to." He poured himself another glass. "But enough of all that. Where was I? Oh, yes. You're probably curious as to how I came by all this?"
She sipped more of her wine, and Jack immediately topped it off.
"It had crossed my mine," she smiled. "I've heard the tavern stories, so I'll save you that. The truth is far more interesting."
"And stranger, too. I never set out for a career at sea, much less that of a pirate."
"But, you seem as if you were born to it. I can't imagine you doing anything else."

Jack pointed at the floor-to-ceiling bookcases that flanked the door of the cabin, and the shorter ones beneath the gallery windows. "Any of that spark your curiosity? Or have you known many bookworm pirates?"
"I had wondered a bit, I suppose. You hear a lot of sailor's stories in taverns, most of them about how dull it can be waiting for something to happen."
"That's true enough, and I do take advantage of those times to read. Would you believe a good many of those books have been with me since my days at university? I'll bet you haven't heard that in any of the tavern stories."

Honour blinked in surprise. "I knew you were an intelligent man, but university? Really?"
"Really," replied Jack proudly. "My course of study was literature and philosophy. I was supposed to be a stodgy, tenured professor by now."
"What happened?"
"Life happened. Well, more accurately... death happened. My father died of typhus when I was 19, just as I was entering the last year of my undergraduate study. That left my mum with only some savings and no income. So like a dutiful son, I signed aboard a merchant ship carrying goods to the West Indies and sugar back to England. Everything was as good as it ever is on a merchantman. Endless work for nearly no pay, and no intellectual stimulation save the books I could afford after sending money home."
His eyes grew sad as he continued. "A couple years later, that's when everything changed. I got word Mum was sick. Consumption. I was hopeful I'd get to see her again when when ship was taken by pirates. Briggs and I - we were shipmates even then - got pressed into service."
"That had to have been terrifying for you," said Honour.
"I guess it was. I was too angry about everything to be scared. Even angrier that I couldn't get home before she died before I could get home."

He got up from the table and went to the dresser. "Da loved that she was strong willed and feisty. You two would have had a lot to talk about."

Honour's heart began to beat faster as he unlocked the top drawer.

"Bloody hell," he said with a scowl. "What's happened here?"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Honour's heart jumped. She'd left something out of place, and he'd noticed. She just knew it. "Jack, I--"
"That's one thing you'll learn about being on a ship, darling," he interrupted. "No matter how carefully you arrange things, the sea finds a way to change it round. Nothing stays quite the way you left it. I'm sorry, what were you going to say?"
"I - I can fill your glass, if you like." That was close. Too close.
"Thank you, yes. Ah, here it is!" Jack brought out a necklace with a single pearl pendant, and a miniature portrait. He set them down gently in front of Honour. "The portrait is of Mum. She's was my father's only other love besides the sea.  The necklace was a gift from Da when I was born. Now it's my remembrance of her." He caressed her face. "And what shall I give you when you give me an heir?"
A blush rose in Honour's cheeks. "A diamond is the customary gift in my family."
"You'd look good in a tiara," he smiled mischievously.
"A tiara for each child? How generous of you, Captain Wolfe!"
"I was thinking of a tiara to hold all the diamonds. Like a crowning constellation."
"I don't think so! I rather enjoy seeing my feet, thank you very much."

She handed the necklace and miniature back to Jack. "They're charming, Jack. Your mother was a lovely woman."
"Da always thought so." He carefully put the necklace away and locked the drawer again. "Now, where was I?"
"You and Mister Briggs were captured by pirates."
"Ah, yes. Well, at first we resisted. But the captain had something neither of us had counted on."
"What was that?"
"An amazing amount of patience. Once he discovered my knowledge of ships and ship construction, he made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Prove my worth by making his vessel faster and deadlier, or watch Briggs die."
Honour's mouth fell open. "That's ghastly!  I can't believe you were turned that easily, though."
"My original plan was to make just enough changes to satisfy the captain's demands, then bargain for our freedom. But he lavished gifts on us when he saw the improvements progress. The next thing I knew, he made me his apprentice, and I began to enjoy this life. Once you've dipped your hands in murky waters, going back is nearly impossible."
"This captain sounds like a fascinating man. Whatever became of him?"
"He retired not long after letting me take possession of this ship. And here I am years later, following in his footsteps once again." Jack raised his glass to Honour. "Though I have one key advantage he didn't."
"An advantage? What sort of advantage?"
"A beautiful wife."
Honour blushed and sipped her wine. She had intended to ask about Bonita, but their sudden departure from Castara spoke volumes about Jack's loyalty to the wild-eyed sorceress. If he was willing to turn his back on Castara and her, that's all Honour needed to know.

Jack drank some of his wine and smiled. "So, that's my story. Feeling better?"
"Yes, I do. Thank you, Jack. It helps me understand you a little more."
She really did feel better. The portrait was of Jack's mother, not some secret previous wife. A wave of relief washed over her.

"Wonderful! I'm glad it sets your mind at ease," he grinned. "Now it's your turn."
Honour nearly dropped her glass. "What?"
"Your story, my pet. I'm dying to hear it. Just who is Honour Wolfe?"

[Welsh Wench]

She laughed a little uneasily.
"Jack, I told you. My mother was a scullery maid and my father was a stablehand. She was only sixteen. Her name was Branwen. And she told me my father's name was Dafydd. I always liked her name. Branwen Bright. She told me she named me Honour because 'Honour Bright' is an oath of assurance and fidelity. After I was born, she stayed on in the household and raised me. I wore hand-me-down clothes from the daughters of the manor where she worked. They were benevolent but I was taught my place.
Mother died of fever when I was ten. I remained on with the house and stayed until I was sixteen."
"Why did you leave?"
Her laugh had a hollow ring to it. "Because I refused to let the lord's son bed me. He cornered me one evening in the library where I was dusting the books and I racked him. And I left that night because he swore to make me pay. I worked my way as a tavern wench through the countryside and eventually ended up in Barbados. And that is where you found me."

"When were you born and where?"
"I told you the when but being a man, I guess you forgot. I was born April 4, 1644. So therefore I just turned 19. I was born in Llanwddyn, Wales. And that is all there is. An uneventful life."
"Why did you go to Barbados?"
She reached up and kissed him. "Have I ever told you that you ask too many questions?"
He put his arms around her and drew her close to him. She knew that fire in his eyes.
He whispered to her, "Then shut me up."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moonlight shone through the louvered windows. Jack slept soundly next to her, his arm resting over her body. She carefully disentangled herself from his embrace. Quietly she arose and put her dressing gown on, wrapping it tightly around her. She peered through the slats and gazed at the moon.
She told so many lies in her life she was afraid she was even beginning to believe them herself.

'Just who is Honour Wolfe?' Jack had asked her.
How could she tell him that she was not Honour Bright Wolfe. How could she ever tell him that she was really Rhiannon Conaway Castlemaine?

She laid her head against the window frame and thought back to her mother. That was one thing she didn't lie about. Her mother was Branwen alright. Lady Branwen Conaway. Wife of Lord Rhodri Conaway. Mother to four daughters, Rhiannon being the youngest.
She did not remember the day her mother died. How could she? She was only three. She had heard that she ran from her mother in play. Her mother ran after her, slipped and hit her head on a rock by the pond, drowning because of the ensuing unconsciousness.
Rhiannon lovingly touched the silver chain she wore around her neck and kissed it each night. Tonight she stood by the window and tenderly caressed it. It was all she had of her mother. Megan made sure she had something.

Lord Conaway had adored his wife. And blamed Rhiannon for her death. She was always a headstrong little girl that when she took without permission Lord Conaway's stallion Goliath out for a joyride into the woods where there was quicksand, he decided to find a place for her.
He surely did.
The Order of St. Brigid.

Her mind drifted back to her homecoming. Her father was having none of it. She remembered his words to her.
'You may stay here. For now. Until we can work out a mutually beneficial solution to this problem.'
She shuddered at the 'solution' to the problem. Within a week, she was married to Lord Madoc Castlemaine.
Bastard extraordinaire and known privately to Honour as 'Old Vinegar Veins'.

Lord Castlemaine. A man who appeared to be an upstanding member of the realm but in truth was a cruel and ruthless man.
Rhys Morgan was her saving grace.

She glanced over at Jack sleeping so peacefully. Even with his checkered past, could he ever forgive her for what she had done?
She had been the cause of Rhys Morgan's death.
Rhys.
Friend to Jack Wolfe.
Friend to all he met.

She fingered the chain around her neck as she reluctantly let her mind go back to that fateful night.
It was supposed to be safe. The coast was supposed to be clear. Madoc was supposed to be in London.
Supposed to, supposed to, supposed to.....


Honour drew a deep sigh and looked over to her sleeping husband. She was beginning to think there was life after Rhys Morgan.
True, she and Jack had a most unusual start to married life but he more she knew of him, the more he reminded her of Rhys. Until she no longer compared him to Rhys.
Jack Wolfe stood on his own merit, second to none.
She drew the covers down and slipped into bed quietly so as not to disturb her husband. He was half-asleep when he mumbled, "Everything alright, love?"
She snuggled closer to him and put her arms around him.
"Yes, darling."
Or they will be.
As soon as we settle in Barbados.
And with that thought, she drifted to sleep.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Honour awoke to the wet, familiar nose of Muir nuzzling her hand. She smiled and scratched the neck of her longtime companion as she yawned. Sunlight fully illuminated the multicoloured glass panes of the gallery windows. It was then she realised Jack was already gone. "He must have gotten an early start," she mused. She could hear the watch bell ringing from the quarterdeck above. 1, 2, 3... 4? She'd slept until noon!

She dressed quickly and made her way with Muir to the weather deck. The sky was a deep turquoise with hardly a cloud in sight, and a brisk wind filled the white sails above her. The salt air cooled and invigorated her. She couldn't remember a more beautiful day. Everything felt right with the world.

"Good boy, Muir!" Jack called from the quarterdeck. "We thought you were going to lie abed all day, darling. It's far too perfect a day for that. Come join me up here, would you? I'll have a plate and tea sent up for you. How do you feel about making a day of it?"

Honour joined Jack and Briggs on the quarterdeck, and she shared a plate of smoked meats and soft bread with Muir. Briggs kept a watchful eye on the crew as they went about their tasks. Jack entertained his bride by teaching her about the various portions of the ship and their functions.

"Voile, voile!! Navire devant et au-devant de nous!" came the excited cry of the lookout from high above the weather deck.

"What's he on about, I wonder?" Briggs asked.
Jack turned and gave him a puzzled look. "You signed him on. Didn't you notice he was French? What's his name?"
"He didn't say much. Not as much as a peep, actually. But his friends vouched well for him. Called him "Le Cancrelat", I think.
"You think?"
"I might have been drinkin'," Briggs replied sheepishly.
Jack rolled his eyes as he extended the perspective glass. "Your friend the Cockroach just espied a sail ahead, bearing toward us. Let's see who wants to chat."

"Jack, is something wrong?" Honour asked worriedly.
"Nothing of any importance, love. Seems we've got some company. Probably a packet ship or a small merchantman."

He looked through the glass and quickly made out the approaching vessel. She was the same size as El Lobo, painted black with red and gold trim. The sun glinted off the ship's gilt appointments. No flag could be seen, but her full sails were emblazoned with the Burgundy Cross. Jack recognized her instantly. In another life, she would have been El Lobo's twin.

"There's only one ship fitted out that brazenly, Josiah. The Mercedes II."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"Sweet mother of us all! Mendoza?" gasped Briggs.

Jack's eyes were pure fire, but his voice was icily cold. "Master Briggs, kindly call the men to quarters."

Without hesitation, Briggs picked up a small drum slung by the wheel and pounded out a steady beat. "To quarters!! To quarters!! Clear these decks for action, and be swift about it ye lazy slugs!!" he shouted.
Jack's voice was the next to ring out. "Hands to the braces! Stand by to strike the main course and raise topgallants! Make ready all guns!!" He turned to face the approaching enemy ship. "It's about time you showed your face, Colonel," he said quietly.

The crew launched into a frenzy of activity at the call to quarters, the order to make the ship ready for battle. Anything that wasn't critical for fighting or manoeuvring was stowed away or lashed aside. On the lower decks, temporary bulkheads were knocked down and secured. Guns were rolled back so their crews could ready and load them. Half barrels with water for swabbing the guns and putting out fires were dragged into position, and powder and shot were brought up from the magazine and placed in easy reach of the gunners.

Honour stood transfixed as Jack's rowdy and seemingly less-than-disciplined crew transformed into a synchronised living machine. She was startled when Jack took her firmly by the shoulders and fixed her eyes with his. Gone were his easy smile and quick laugh, replaced by a grimly determined mask that truly frightened her.
"Honour, darling, I need you to do exactly as I tell you, no arguments.  Go below to our cabin and stay there, and keep away from the windows. Do not come out until I send for you. Please, do this for me."
"But, why? Jack, what are you---no!! Tell me you're not attacking that ship!" she cried.
"No. I'm defending us," he said gravely. He put his arms around her and kissed her. "Always know that I love you," he whispered in her ear as he held her close. Her tear-filled eyes searched his for answers, but found none. "Josiah, please see that she makes it safely below."
"Come along, ma'am. Please." Briggs urged her gently.
Honour reluctantly allowed him to escort her from the quarterdeck. She looked back at her husband, but he had already returned his gaze to the enemy vessel.

For the first time since that fateful night Rhys died, she felt helpless and alone.

Once inside the companionway, she tried again to get answers. "Josiah, why is he doing this? Who is Mendoza?"
Briggs sighed heavily. "A man what should've been sent back to the hell what spat him out long ago. A man Jack has too many reasons to hate. A black-hearted bastard named Colonel Diego de Castille y Mendoza."

They reached the great cabin, and Briggs set about shuttering the gallery windows. "Did Jack ever tell ye how we came to be on the account?"
"Y-yes," she said with a shiver. "You both were on a freighter that got taken by pirates."
"Aye, and Jack took to the life like a duck to water. Not at first. Fought it tooth and nail he did, but finally he found his place in the world. Now, did he ever tell ye how he came about bein' master of this ship?"
"Just that his old mentor let him take it for his own."
"And where do ye think a pirate gets himself a better ship?"
"He took it?" she said tentatively.
Briggs nodded in the general direction of the approaching ship. Honour went pale.
"From this Mendoza fellow?" she asked.
"This ship was Mendoza's pride and joy, if he even feels joy. Named it after his wife. She was a pretty Jezebel who had a likin' for men of the sea, and Mendoza knew it. Mercedes also knew Jack, if ye take my meanin'. Mendoza knew about that, too."
"And Jack was involved in the taking of this ship?"
"Lead the boardin' party. When the fight was over and it was time to ask Mendoza to surrender, well, Jack couldn't resist rubbin' his face in it."
Honour shook her head. "So of course, Mendoza swore vengeance and is here to collect." She could feel a knot of dread tighten in her stomach.

"More like finish the job. Jack never told ye about his time as a guest of the Colonel, did he?"
"No, he never mentioned it."
Briggs shook his head. "Mendoza set a trap a few years back, and Jack fell right into it. They carried him off to Mendoza's personal fortress, complete with dungeon. That black-hearted devil tortured your husband, ma'am. Nearly to the point of death."

Her face went ashen. Any twinge of jealousy she may have felt over Jack's dalliance with Mendoza's wife vanished at the thought of her husband being tortured in some horrible Spanish dungeon. "Dear heavens! How did he manage to escape?"
"He didn't. We busted him out of there. Me and some men Jack trusted managed to talk our way in and mount a rescue. Anyway," continued Briggs, "we got Jack nursed back to health thanks to Duckie. And Jack swore he'd take Mendoza's life for tryin' to take his."
"Wait... Duckie? Who's that?"
"The ship's surgeon.  Have ye not met him yet?" Briggs scratched his head. "I suppose, he's been locked away studyin' his plants and whatnot. But if Mendoza doesn't break off this madness, then I'm afraid... Never mind, ma'am. Speakin' of Mendoza, I'd best get back topside before Jack starts yellin's for me."

Briggs paused at the door. "Mrs. Wolfe... Honour, please do as Jack asked. Stay away from the windows, stay low, and don't unlock this door for no one but me or Jack. It's gonna get a little rough."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"Come on, come on! Have you the stomach for this, or not?" Jack grumbled impatiently at the pursuing ship. Mendoza's vessel had been pursuing El Lobo for nearly an hour without showing any intention of overtaking the pirate ship. Jack knew the Spaniard was toying with him, looking for some misstep or weakness to exploit. Just as Jack was doing to him.

Despite Jack's grousing, this was the part of a sea battle he enjoyed most. Employing strategy and deception to gain every tactical advantage possible. Outwit them with your brains and you stand a better chance of conquering them with your guns. Confound them completely, and you could win without a shot being fired. He had no illusions about the latter; if Mendoza didn't break off unexpectedly, all hell was sure to break loose.

"Oi, Cap'n!" shouted a lookout from the rigging. "She's makin' 'er move to windward, runnin' out 'er larboard guns, she is!"
"And there it is. Now we dance," said Jack with satisfaction. "Open the starboard gun ports, but do not run out the guns yet!" he ordered. "Everyone, make fast your positions!"
"Starboard ports only, righto!" the master gunner answered. "Stay sharp, lads, to a man. He's got somethin' up his sleeve besides a bottle o' rum this time, I'm thinkin'! Now get them ports open!"
Jack watched carefully as the Mercedes began her bid to overtake his ship and gain the superior position to windward from which to fight. Her sails shifted and finally set, filling with more wind as the Spaniard committed to their course that would carry them to El Lobo's starboard. From there they could batter the pirate ship and force her to fight against the wind, impairing her manoeuvrability and making her easier to vanquish.

Mendoza watched El Lobo's gun ports swing open one by one along her right side. A bloodthirsty smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Wolfe must be drunk again. He's ceded the windward position to us! Gunners, fire as we come along side! I want nothing left of that abomination, or its captain!"
The crew cheered heartily, each one thinking of how fat their pockets would soon be once the pirate lay a burning hulk. The Colonel gloated over how easy the chase had been. Yet another victory was at hand. He was a little sorry, though, that the pirate hadn't made more of a fight of it.
"Your days of running from me are over," he said as he watched the stern of Jack's ship. "You escaped me before, but not today. You are out of tricks. When I see you die this time, I shall make certain it lasts!"

"That's it, you greedy bastard," smiled Jack. "That's it! Come to papa! Briggs, I'll take the wheel. I need you on deck with the men, up forward."
"Ye've got somethin' in mind?" asked Briggs.
"Don't I always?"
"Aye, ye do. But will it work?"
"I hope so."
"That's good enough for me. On my way!"
Jack took the wheel from his quartermaster. He could feel the vibration and pull of the ship's rudder in his hands. He and his vessel were in direct communication, and it felt good.
"Oh, and Briggs!" he called.
Briggs stopped at the stairs leading down to the weather deck. "Aye, Jack?"
"Grab an axe and keep it with you."
"An axe. Part of the plan?"
"Part of the plan. Off you go!"

He held El Lobo's course steady and waited for Briggs to take his position near the forward part of the main deck. Briggs held up his axe and gave a shrug.
Jack smiled and gave another look back at the Spanish ship. She was closing, but had not yet come directly astern.
'Now the fun begins,' he thought to himself, and he began shouting a flurry of orders.
"Everyone, hold for my mark! Larboard guns, you will run out and prepare to fire! Mr. Briggs, you will loose the anchor and let it run free to 10 fathoms and hold there! And... NOW!"
The gun crews hastily opened the gun ports and shoved the artillery pieces into position, as three men under Briggs' direction freed the starboard anchor and let it fall into the sea. Briggs stood by the brake for the wildly spinning capstan and stopped the anchor's descent around the requested depth. Jack let go of the wheel, and the sudden drag created by the anchor and its thick hemp cable as they hauled it through the water made El Lobo veer hard to starboard, cutting across the path of the onrushing ship and losing speed. Men clung to the rails and rigging to keep from being pitched to the deck.

The Mercedes' helmsman Stephan Guitano didn't wait for the surprised Mendoza to recover his wits. He battled the wheel back hard to port, certain that a collision at their present speed would doom both ships. "Starboard guns, make ready and fire!!" he yelled.
"What do you think you're doing?!" demanded Mendoza.
"Making sure we don't all die," Guitano replied though clenched teeth. Mercedes resisted the course change, but finally began turning back inside the pirate's course. They were going to pass dangerously close. Below decks, the gun crews scrambled frantically to secure the larboard guns and respond to their new circumstances. Their well rehearsed gunnery routine was suddenly thrown into complete chaos and panic.

"Briggs! Cut the cable, now!!" yelled Jack.
"Back off, boys, lest ye lose somethin' you're fond of!" Briggs brought the axe down hard, cutting more than halfway through the thick woven ropes. He swung again, and the anchor was free. One man had to dive to the deck as the severed cable, no longer under the tremendous stress of dragging an anchor, came flying back and slammed into the bulkhead above him hard enough to shatter the wood. Briggs grunted in satisfaction and handed off the axe.
"What are you lot standin' around for like a bunch of lost pups for? Get movin'! We've got Spaniards to kill!" he barked as he ran back to the quarterdeck.

Jack adjusted course to ensure the Mercedes would be squarely in the reach of El Lobo's guns. He now commanded the weather gage, and Mendoza's ship was travelling too fast to do anything about it. Now was Jack's opportunity to inflict fresh humiliation on his old nemesis, and he would do it at point-blank range.

"Fire as they pass!" he ordered.
"Fire all!" Briggs echoed.
"All guns, make your target!" yelled the master gunner. "Steady, lads, steady..."

The men watched tensely as the view out of their gunports became filled with the hull of the enemy ship.

"And FIRE!!"