PRELUDE TO EL LOBO DEL MAR

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"Bonita not hiding! She gone from de island. Family t'ings to take care of!"
"Family? Aside from her sainted aunt, she's never mentioned family. Not even you," said Jack, making sure those last words came across pointedly.
Drusilla's face fell. "Not... not even Drusilla? But, we cousins. Blood relations!"
"Well, that's Bonita for you, Drusilla," he said loudly, almost as if he were addressing a courtroom. "You're only as important to her as what you can provide at the moment."
"Dat not true!"
"Isn't it, though? Bonita is guilty as anyone when it comes to using people. Manipulating them. As long as you've got something she needs, she'll tolerate you. Let me ask you a question; why would Bonita need your help now? Why not when this was a bustling port with a constant stream of sailors coming through that door? I mean, look around! There's no one here. She hasn't even bothered to dust the tables in weeks, nor have you. So she's up to something. And whatever it is, you can bet she'll brush you aside the moment you're no longer useful to her."
Jack paused and looked Drusilla squarely in the eyes.
"I should know," he said in earnest tones. "That's what she did to me."

"LIAR!!!" a voice shrieked from the curtained storage area just behind the bar. Bonita nearly tore the curtain down as she emerged to confront her accuser.
"Bonita!" smiled Jack. "Back so soon from your little trip?"
"How dare Jack Wolfe say dem t'ings about Bonita, after all her done for him d'ese many years?" she spat.
"And sweet nothings would have lured you out of hiding? I doubt that."
"Bonita, him wouldn't believe nothing Drusilla say. Drusilla tried to make him go away, just like Bonita wanted!"
Drusilla was very animated as she tried to apologise to her cousin. As she spoke, her piled-up hairdo bobbed this way and that, making the tattered red bow holding it all together flutter like a pennant in a storm. Jack found it nearly impossible to tear his eyes from it.
"Drusilla need to shut up," growled Bonita. "Her not a help den, her not a help now!"
"So what Jack Wolfe say about Bonita were de trut'! Her do use people up and t'row dem away!" The bow continued its dizzying flutter.
Bonita's mouth fell open at her cousin's accusation. "Drusilla getting t'ings twisted up inside her head again! Her know what Bonita be like. And her know what Bonita be like when Bonita get angry."

Drusilla's mouth practically snapped closed. She swallowed hard and nodded her head vigorously in the affirmative, the bow valiantly keeping up with this change in direction. Silently, she backed away a respectful distance from her cousin.
"So that's what seasickness feels like," Jack said as he pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked.
"Now for de great Jack Wolfe," Bonita continued, her tone cold as ice.
"Oh, don't start with me, Bonita," he countered. "You know I'm not here on a social call. Otherwise you wouldn't have been hiding in the cupboard like a guilty scullery maid."
"Den why him here? It can't be because him want to listen to Bonita, since him don't need Bonita now dat him have de golden-haired girl." A cruel smile curled her lips. "Or had her, til she run away."
"Fine, let's get the gloating out of the way," Jack grumbled. "So you know about Honour. Good for you. But right now I'm more interested in the whereabouts of Cade."
"Because maybe, if him find Cade Jennings, him find de girl too?"
"Nice try. I expected you to goad me, but it's not going to work. Not this time. I have it on good authority that Cade was still in port at least a day after Honour vanished. So you'll have to do better than that."
"Den what is it Jack Wolfe need from Bonita?"
"Information."
"Bonita don't know what t'ings go on all de way up in Barbados..."
"The kind of information that only you can provide, Bonita."

The dark woman grinned at him. "Him need Bonita's Sight again? Maybe her read de cards, like old times?"
Jack nodded contritely.
"Dis going to cost Jack Wolfe. Him get not'ing for free from Bonita. Not anyt'ing. Not any more."
"Fine." He unhitched a leather pouch from his belt and tossed it onto the bar. It made a solid thud as it landed, and the sound of coins - lots of them - could be heard as they clinked against one another.
Bonita picked up the pouch and hefted it in her hand.
"Dat will do, for dis time," she pronounced as she tucked the pouch away under the bar. She brought up another pouch, this one made of green velvet, and pulled from it her deck of tarot cards. She gazed at Jack as she shuffled the cards and gave a slight smile. The situation had changed, and she held the advantage. And she enjoyed the feeling.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack shifted uncomfortably as he watched Bonita shuffle the cards. He didn't trust her, but he'd benefited from the uncanny accuracy of her second sight too many times to disregard one of her special readings. Her last card reading certainly came to pass. Perhaps, since she had foreseen the current situation, she could divine the conclusion and his certain success?

Bonita dealt out five cards, all face down. Each one was laid down with a loud slap of the card against the wooden countertop.
"Him sure him want Bonita to read what dese cards have to say about him life, him future?"
"I'm not doubling the payment, if that's what you're hinting at."
"Dere be no shame in second t'oughts, cher. Bonita just making sure him serious."
"Just read the cards, please," he said wearily. "I've had enough melodrama as it is."
"As him wish," she said with an oily smile. She flipped the first card and laid it down with a slap.
"De Seven of Swords," she announced. "Someone have stolen much from Jack Wolfe. Valuable t'ings."
"I see you brought out the 'state the bleeding obvious' deck instead of the fortune telling one."
"Were him robbed from or were him not?" she demanded.
"Yes, damn it, I was robbed. The whole Caribbean knows Honour stole a small ransom from me!"
"Bonita not talking about de golden-haired child. She talking about young Cade Jennings."
"Well, I suppose you could say he's stolen from me as well. Stolen time, effort, trust, and a large portion of my credibility."
"Cade take more from Jack Wolfe t'an him realize. Let us see what de next card say."
She flipped the next card. It showed a man hanging from a tree by his ankle. "De Hanged Man," she intoned.
"If that's supposed to be Cade, the rope would be better suited around his neck," said Jack.
"Dis card represent Jack Wolfe, not Cade."
Jack gave a disgusted sigh. "Of course it does. What does it mean?"
"It mean him will gain much knowledge, but only after great sacrifice."
"I'll take my chances. I always do." He rapped his knuckles impatiently on the countertop. "Next card. What's this one mean?"
"Dis be what him searches for, or what him should be searching for..."
She turned the card and fought the urge to smile.
"Oh, no. No, it can't be," said Jack as the blood drained from his face.

"De Lovers," intoned Bonita. scarcely hiding the satisfaction in her voice.
"But, that's not possible. She left port at least a full day before Cade did. They are not together. She wouldn't do that to me."
"Dat not be what de cards reveal."
Jack sat silently, his jaw clenched tight in frustration. "Then God help them should I ever find them," he finally growled.
"De next card will show what him should do, what action him must take."
"Show me, then."
She turned the card over and tapped it with a long fingernail. "De Nine of Wands."
"What, I'm supposed to go and gather sticks now?"
"Dis card show dat Jack Wolfe will face much difficulty, much strife in him search for de two what have stolen so much from him. De ones what broke him heart. De task will seem impossible, but him must never give up, no matter de cost. Because only him success in finding dem will bring to fruition de last card to be read."
Jack watched intently as she turned over the last card. "Judgement," she intoned.
"Mine, or theirs?"
"Dis be de judgement Jack Wolfe bring upon de two what have brought him so much pain and humiliation. When him find dem at last, him enemies will fall and Jack Wolfe will be restored."
"So, all I have to do is find them? That's it?"
"It will not be easy. Dere will be much searching, much opposition. And him can never give up, if him want de justice him desire."
A cold fire seemed to blaze in Jack's eyes. "Fine. Opposition and I are old friends. But I will find them if I have to tear the Caribbean apart in the process. Now if I only knew where to start looking. Your cards can't tell me that, though. Or can they?"
"De cards reveal much, but not where him should search. But de bones can."
"How much more will that cost?"
"Bonita see how much pain Jack Wolfe in. She read de bones as a favour to an old friend."

She picked up the bag and dumped the chicken bones into her palm. Then she closed her eyes, and with the bones enclosed by her hands, she muttered something softly, words that Jack had never been able to understand. Bonita then cast the bones on the countertop. Her eyes flew open, and she began to scrutinise the bones and their positions.
"Bonita cannot say for certain where de be exactly," she said, with a note of frustration in her voice. "But it be to de nort'. De islands of de nort'ern Caribbean."
"That narrows it down a bit," replied Jack. "Bonita, I thank you for the help. I'd love to stay and chat, but as you said I have a lot of work ahead of me. So there's no time like the present to get started. Good day, ladies!"

Bonita smiled as Jack quickly left the tavern, headed back to the docks. As she picked up the chicken bones, she began to chuckle.
"Why Bonita laugh after the mean trick she just pull on him?" asked Drusilla. "Her not very nice at all!"
"Drusilla not know what she talking about, again."
"Drusilla know enough the her see Bonita put cards on de bottom of de desk after she finish shuffling, den her deal from de bottom!"
"So?" countered Bonita. "Jack Wolfe got what him looking for. It not matter to Bonita if it real or not. Him has it coming, anyway."
"And what about de bones? Were dat de trut'? Because Bonita always say de bones no lie."
Bonita gave her cousin a defiant glare. "De bones no lie. Not ever. But Bonita do."

Jack was walking as fast as his boots would carry him as he arrived back at the pier. Briggs was enjoying his pipe when he caught sight of his friend and captain.
"Blimey," he muttered. "I've seen that look before."
"Prepare to cast off!" shouted Jack at the ship. He stopped next to Briggs and sighed. "Please don't give me that look, Josiah."
"And which look would that be?"
"That 'Jack's got that wild-eyed look about him again' look you just gave me."
"And would I be wrong?"
Jack looked out at the open water. "They're out there, Josiah. Together. Bonita saw it."
"Bloody hell. I was prayin' that wouldn't be the case. Are ye sure?"
"Bonita is never wrong with these things. You know that."
"So what plan have ye got?"
"Plan? My plan is to tear the entire Caribbean apart if I have to in order to find them."
"Jack, I know ye have plenty of reasons to want to settle the score, but to try and hunt them down like this? Based on what? More of Bonita's 'impressions'?"
"I'm fine with chasing after her impressions, Josiah. After all, a footprint doesn't look like a boot!" With that, Jack turned on his heel and walked toward the ship.
"And just what do ye plan to do after ye find them, Jack?" Briggs called after him.
"You can guess what I'll do to Cade. As for Honour, I'll tie her to the mast until I get that key from her."
"Aye, that sounds about right."
Jack turned and began walking up the gangway. "And then, I'll make love to her one last time," he said quietly.

[Welsh Wench]

February 28, 1655--Beaumaris Wales

"Rhiannon, you have been staring out that window for the last hour."
"Hmm? Oh....well, I just was looking at the sky. With the clouds rolling in, it looks like a storm is brewing."
Megan joined her sister at the window. "It looks like it is blowing in from the sea. Once in a while we get a bad storm but don't worry. Bancroft Hall is solidly built."

Honour sighed and sat down. "I'm so tired of being cooped up in this room."
"Darling, I'm sorry. But you are due to have your baby pretty soon and...well, it just isn't really proper for women in your condition to engage in social situations."
Honour looked down at her stomach. "I never thought skin could stretch so much. I haven't seen my feet all month."
Megan laughed and touched her sister's abdomen.
"You aren't that big, Rhiannon. But I do believe the baby has dropped."
"Dropped? Oh no!"
"Oh, it's not a bad thing. It just means the baby is getting into a position to be born. The little head is upside down and ready to make its entrance into the world."

Honour was quiet.
"Megan, does...does it hurt much?" she said in a small voice.
Megan walked over and hugged her sister.
"I won't lie to you, Rhiannon. There is pain involved. But in the end, when you hold that little life in your arms, it makes it so worth it."
Honour bit her lip. "And Daffyd was there?"
"Well, not...here. But he was pacing downstairs in the parlour. I swear, I never saw a man so proud when Dylan was born. And Morwenna just melted his heart."

Honour went back to looking out the window.
"I have no one special waiting for the news of my baby. Poor child," she murmured.
She laid her head against the window and looked out towards the sea.
"Megan? If...If I don't make it, would you please send a letter to James Blake? In care of Amos at the Varlet and Vixen? Also to my friend Kate. She...she would want to know."

"Now, Rhiannon, stop that! Stop it right now! You are young and healthy. Nesta has plenty of experience. You will come through this just fine."
"I know....I just kind of wish..."
"That Jack would be down in the parlour waiting for news of his child being born?"
She nodded.
"Do you think he would be interested, Rhiannon? I mean, from what you have told me, he doesn't seem like the kind of man that would want to be tied down to hearth and home. These men--the ones that get the sea in their blood--well, babies and family life are not a priority."
"I just feel in a way I cheated him of the knowledge that he has a child. A pirate's life could end at any time and maybe it would be...I don't know....a little something for him to know that a part of him continues on....oh, what am I saying? This is Mad Jack Wolfe! If he hadn't acknowledged a child by now, maybe he wouldn't care."
"Rhiannon, these 'could have-should have-would have' thoughts are doing you no good. My best advice is to forget him. Concentrate on having this baby, get your divorce quickly and silently and pass yourself off as a widow. Find love again with a man who will respect and love you."
"I can't think of that right now. And look at the time. You had better get ready for your dinner party."
Megan gave her a hug. "I'll be in to say goodnight if you are still awake."
"I think I will be in bed by then. I have heard how your dinner parties go. People don't want to leave."
"Well, if there is anything, don't hesitate to send Maeve for me. I can use an excuse to leave. Sometimes these people give me a headache."
Honour laughed. "Go! Enjoy your party! Nothing is going to happen. I'll read a book and then turn in early."

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

Honour put the book down she was reading. She padded over to the window and peered out. The storm was picking up. Glancing at the clock on the mantel, she saw that it was close to midnight. Sleep eluded her.
She opened the top drawer of the chest and pulled out a piece of paper. It had been crumpled and torn. Well, crumpled and smoothed out and then eventually torn. She smoothed it out once more.
Hastily scrawled on the paper was the date of June 3rd, 1654. Their names--Honour Bright and John Michael Wolfe.
All legal.
Honour traced their names across the paper with her finger and tried hard not to weep.
'I can't understand why I feel so melancholy over this. Jack Wolfe is out of my life. I won't ever see him again....'

She folded up the paper and a pain suddenly gripped her.
"Oh! OH!"
She clung to the dresser and it subsided. She made her way to the bed when another pain came.
"Nesta! NESTA!"

The midwife hurried into the room and took one look at Honour. She placed her hand on her abdomen.
"It's time, Rhiannon."
"But...but it can't be. I'm not ready."
As soon as she said it, she felt a trickle of water down her leg. Nesta looked at her and said firmly, "It doesn't matter whether you are ready or not, Rhiannon. The baby is in charge now.
Your water is breaking and your contractions are coming. Like it or not, this babe will be born sometime in the wee hours. I'll get Miss Megan."
"Oh, please don't. Let her enjoy her dinner party. Please don't tell her for a while yet."

A clap of thunder echoed and the heavens opened up to a torrential rain.
Nesta shook her head. "A bad storm. And a baby on the way. It's going to be a long night."

She helped Rhiannon to the bed. As she laid back on the pillows, pain gripped her and she began to realize she would have this baby by herself and Jack would never know if she died giving birth to his child.
Regrets filled her thoughts.
'Forgive me, Jack. But I did what I had to do.'
Another pain, more intense.
Yes, a long, long night.

[Welsh Wench]

March 1, 1655--Bancroft Hall, Beaumaris Wales

"...and then Lady Waterford said to me.....excuse me."
Megan looked up from her water glass and said, "Yes, Maeve?"
The serving girl leaned over and whispered in Megan's ear. Her eyes grew wide and she stood up. Turning to her guests, she said with a bright smile, " A family emergency upstairs. Please, go on with your dinner and evening. Daffyd? Please see to our guests' needs."
Daffyd quickly stood up and said, "Pardon me for a moment."
He followed Megan to the staircase.
"Is it what I think it is?"
Megan gathered her skirts and said, "Yes. Nesta knows. I'm afraid I won't be here to bid our guests goodbye, dear. Please make my excuses. Tell them...oh, tell them one of the children has the sniffles and is calling for me. And whatever you do, stay away from the east wing and keep the children away too."

Megan quickly ran up the stairs, knocked quietly on the door and then opened it.
The girl from the bed murmured, "Megan?"
"Yes, dear. It's me."
"Megan, I am sorry to interrupt your dinner party."
"Hush! It is only a few of the local gentry. I was getting a headache anyways and this will be a welcome diversion."
To Nesta she asked, "So...what is going on?"

Nesta washed her hands in a basin of soapy water and said, "It started yesterday morning but she begged me not to say anything to you. I've been monitoring her."
"Rhiannon, you didn't say a word to me! Why not?"
The girl said quietly, "You were having a dinner party and I didn't want to interrupt."
"Not interrupt? Darling, this is your first baby. You should have told me!"
To the midwife, she asked, "How is she?"
Nesta dried her hands. "The pains are coming quickly, stronger and closer together. I think within the next two  hours, you will be an aunt."

There was a knock on the door.
"Megan? How are things going?"
Megan cracked the door open and then slipped out.
"Daffyd, I told you not to come into the east wing! Birthing is NO place for husbands."
"But Dylan and Morwenna are asking for their mum and then Aunt Rhiannon. They are worried."
"Well, please tell them Mummy will be in to see them for breakfast."
"It will be tonight?"
"Yes, Daffyd. It will be tonight. The children will have a nice surprise. Now go."

Megan closed the door and walked over to her sister. Rhiannon was lying in bed, her face pale and sweaty.
"Megan, I'm not going to make it! If I die, take care of the baby."
"Hush, darling, you aren't going to die. I won't let you."
She started to cry. "I can't do this. I give up. I changed my mind. Ohhhhhh! I want Jack here."
Meagan soothed her. "Honey, I'm all you have."
The pains kept coming closer together. Honour moaned, "I just want him here so I can tell the bloody bastard what I think of what he did to me!"
Megan stroked her brow with a cloth dipped in lavender. "Dear, we all say that. It is always their fault but once it is over, we forget and do it all over again."
Rhiannon tried to stop the flow of tears but was unsuccessful as they slid down her face and saturated her pillow.
"It's al his fault. It's all Jack Wolfe's fault. If he wasn't so devastatingly charming with his sweet talk and his merlot, I wouldn't be in this situation. And I hate him for it. HATE HIM! Where is he when all this is going on? I have to pay the price for his...lust. He's moved on. And if I have my way, he will never EVER know about this child."
Megan held her hand.
"Why, Rhiannon? Why so much hate and resentment for a man that is the father of your child?"
Rhiannon turned her face into her pillow and sobbed.
"Because....because he left me no choice. Megan, he was a absolute bastard to me in Bridgetown. Do you hear me? A BASTARD!"
"Hush, dear. This isn't doing you any good. Just focus on getting through delivering this child and then you can speculate on your husband's pedigree."
Rhiannon looked up from the pillow and said cynically. "It's only fitting that this child is born by candlelight. She probably got her start on Jack's legendary candlelight wine-dinner-seduction nights. Oh, how I hate him. HATE HIM!"
Megan washed her face and said quietly, "Yes, darling. You have already said that. But this is something that started nine months ago. Now we have a situation that we have to see through to the end. No sense pinpointing blame. Between Nesta and me, we will bring this child into the world and then you can tell me how much you hate Jack Wolfe. But until then, you have to buck up and get this child birthed. Can you do this for me like the Conaway I know you are?"
Rhiannon gritted her teeth and said, "Yes, I can.....OHHHH!"

Megan looked out the turret windows. "The storm is getting fierce. You can hear the rain pound on the window. And that branch...it keeps raking the window."
Rhiannon let out a loud moan.
Nesta put her hand on Rhiannon's abdomen and nodded to Megan.
"It's time."
Megan got behind Rhiannon and pushed her up to a semi-sitting position. Gently, Nesta said, "Rhiannon, I delivered all the babies in this family. I delivered you and together we are going to deliver this babe. Don't stress about the father, just get this little baby OUT. Now....PUSH!"
Nesta looked up at Megan and said quietly, "I can see the head."
Rhiannon grasped her sister's hand and let out another moan. She pushed.
"Once more, dear, and...NOW!"
Nesta and Megan both looked up startled as a crack of thunder and flash of lightning flashed outside the window.
"Dear God!' breathed Nesta as she suddenly felt Rhiannon's child deliver into her hands.
Rhiannon laid back on the pillows in exhaustion as the midwife held the child.
"Oh my God," said Nesta.
Rhiannon could barely catch her breath.
"Please, God, I take it all back," she prayed through her tears. Something is wrong. The baby is not crying...something is wrong...
The midwife slapped the baby's bottom and Rhiannon heard a wail.
She looked at Megan in astonishment..
Her sister had tears in his eyes.
"Darling, you have a fine healthy daughter!"

Rhiannon felt the tears well up in her eyes. She reached out and touched the baby's hand. "Is--is she alright? Has she all her parts?" she whispered.
Megan said softly, "Two eyes, a nose, a tiny little mouth, ten fingers, ten toes. And her eyes are the bluest eyes this side of heaven."
"Thank you, God." Honour whispered.

Nesta put the baby in Honour's arms. Her tears fell on the baby's downy head.
She softly touched the baby's fingers as she marveled at how small her hands were as the baby curled her fingers around her mother's.
She said in wonderment, "I can't believe it. She--she's a GIRL!"
Megan laughed through her tears, "Rhiannon, they come in both flavors! Did you not entertain the thought that you just might have a girl?"
"Not from him. I can't believe that the great Mad Jack Wolfe has produced a GIRL!"
She looked at Megan and the tears were shining in her eyes. "A daughter!"
Megan washed her sister's face with a warm cloth.
"And what are you to name this child? Margaret? Elizabeth? Or are you going to name her after Mother?"
Honour shook her head and said, "I have the perfect name."
"And that is...?"
"Zara."
"Rhiannon! Are you...sure? I mean, it is not approved by the Church!"
She tilted her head up defiantly. "The Church has done nothing for me except condemn. This is a unique child and she deserves a unique name. 'Zara' is exotic. And this child shall follow in the footsteps of no one! Like her father."


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

March 1, 1655--Somewhere in the northern Caribbean

"Jack, for the love of God, drop anchor and ride it out!"
"Never! NEVER! You think a little wind is going to keep me down?"
"Jack, it's a monsoon!" The sea water and wind splashed into Briggs's face, so he could barely stand without holding onto the gunwale.
"The rest of the crew are below. Thinking you lost your mind!"
Jack stood at the wheel, his face a mixture of madness and drunk with rum.
"I'LL SHOW THE WIND WHO IS BOSS!"
He raised his fist to the sky as a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning danced across the sky.
He muttered, "If I believed in portents, I swear she sent that just to taunt me...just to taunt me...."

He picked up his bottle of rum and smashed it against the gunwale. Shaking the broken bottle, he shouted, "Damn you, Honour Bright or whoever you are," he raged to the heavens.
"I swear, I will find you! You can't hide from me forever. Because that's how long I'll keep looking if I must!"

[Welsh Wench]

June 3, 1655--Leogane, Hispanola

"Jack? Jack! I've been looking all over this port for you."
Jack tried to focus his eyes on Briggs' face but unsuccessfully.
"Yeah, well, you found me, Josiah. Now what?"
Josiah sat down.
"Kind of ironic I find you at a tavern called The Lost Honour, isn't it?"
Jack shrugged. "Never made the connection, mate."
"And you are alone."
"What of it?"
"You usually end up with company."
Jack growled, "So for tonight I don't want any. Present company included."
"Jack-----"
"Josiah, leave. LEAVE. I want to be alone. No quartermasters, no doxies. Just LEAVE, alright?"
Jack slammed his glass down on the tavern table. Several people looked over.
Josiah stood up.
"Fine. But promise me you will get a room."
"Already have. Second from the left."

Jack stood up and swayed in his boots.
"You need help getting to bed, Jack?"
He shot Josiah a look.
"Not since...last night. Evita. That was her name. Sweetest little munequita this side of Havana."
"If you're sure...."
"Josiah, go mother someone else. Just....go."

Jack unsteadily made his way up the stairs, holding onto the railing to steady himself.
Josiah stayed downstairs until  he heard the door slam.
'Second from the left....at least he made it back to his room.'

Jack walked unsteadily to his room and leaned against the door. He pulled the cork out of a fresh bottle of rum and threw it across the room. He raised the bottle.
"Here's to you, Honour Bright. Wherever you are.....and by the way, happy anniversary. God, I hope you are as happy as I am tonight."
He staggered backwards to the bed and fell back into it.
For some reason he felt a sense of abandonment. He covered his eyes with his forearm and tried to forget that he actually was happy--and in love---for that one month of June.

The heavens opened up to a torrential downpour.
'Damn it!' Jack exploded as the shutters banged open, slamming repeatedly into the wall. The rain was coming in sideways and saturating the room. He rolled over and ambled over to the window, grabbing the shutter and locking it down.
'Damn storm. Why do I always think of.....her....during a monsoon?'
He wiped the rainwater from his face.
He tried to focus his eyes on the dark form sitting at the table.
"YOU!" He blurted.
"Yeah. Me. Now pour me a drink. You and I have alot to chat about, don't you agree?"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack rubbed his eyes. He had to be seeing things. That was the only explanation. Because there, sitting at the table like nothing at all was amiss, was Jack's father.
"This isn't possible," said Jack. "You're dead. You've been dead nearly twenty years."
"Yet here I am. Are you going to pour, or spend the rest of the night stating the obvious?"
Jack wobbled over to the table, set up two glasses, and poured them both full. After a few moments, he sat down opposite his father.
"Just look at you," said Charles. "What a mess you've become!"
"I rather like the look," protested Jack. "It serves me well."
"Ah yes, the foul, dissolute pirate captain, feared by all! I raised you better than this, Jack."
Jack picked up his glass and drained half of it. "Fat lot of good that did me. Where were you when I really needed you? Mouldering in the grave, that's where. You buggered off into the great beyond, and left the rest of us to take care of Mum. You know how sick she was. The only one of us with any sort of steady income was Thomas, and he was over a year behind in collecting wages. So I quit university and sent back what money I could. Then, like it or not, I ended up a pirate. So don't go climbing on your high spectral horse with me, Dad. So much of this is your fault."

Charles tapped the side of his glass. "I can accept a portion of that, I suppose. But I didn't mean to die, Jack. No one ever does. It just happens, you know? It comes on you, slow and fast at the same time. And there's nothing you can do about it. It just claims you. I wish I could make you understand, and at the same time I never want you to know what it feels like. Not ever. But I know I can't protect you from it. No one is safe. It just is."
"How is Mum, by the way?" asked Jack. He tried to ignore his father's words about death, but to no avail.
"I wouldn't know."
"What? No tandem harp lessons, or dancing on streets of gold?"
"It doesn't work like that."
"Really? How does it, then?"
"There's nothing to it. Literally."
"Then how are you here, as a ghost in my room?"
"Who said I am? Here's a better question; where's your wife?"
"Oh, no. No, you don't get the change the subject."
"But I'm not changing the subject, Jack. All of this is about you. You, and your wife. 'That is why a man will leave his father and his mother and he must stick to his wife and they must become one flesh.' Genesis 2:24. I taught you that."
Jack shook his head. "Yeah, well, to borrow a phrase from you, it doesn't work like that. Sadly."

"And that's why you're so angry?" asked Charles.
"You think it's that simple? All my life, people have left me. Chucked me aside, like I'm nothing. You. Mum. Rose. Cade. Now Honour. How am I supposed to feel, eh? Cheerfully accepting? Bollocks! I feel bloody well shat on, from all sides! Anyone I've ever made an emotional investment in, anyone at all, they've left me! So yeah, I'm angry!"
Charles shifted the glass on the table slightly. "So that's what this is all about? How everyone has failed Jack Wolfe? How people have so callously left huge holes in his life?"
"Now you're getting the picture."
"What about the holes you've gouged in other's lives?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, yes you do. How many, Jack? How many widows, how many orphans have you made over the years? Dozens? Hundreds? I can't blame you for not wanting to face something like that. Your hands are so soaked in blood, it's no wonder people fear your name."

Jack's own blood turned to ice in his veins. "Now, wait a moment. Yes, there have been some actions where resistance had to be put down. But that's the price of doing business."
"Business?! Oh, that's rich. Your stock and trade is death. Maybe not every time, but it's there. But that's not the point I'm trying to make. Jack, you are not the victim here. You never have been."
Jack drained the rest of his glass. "I'm not? Well, it sure feels that way."
"I didn't raise you to be such a selfish bastard. Yes, your mum and I died unexpectedly. And yes, Rose was horrible to you. But look at the way you kept Cade under your thumb. And Honour? Where were you when she needed you most? Nowhere to be found. Off doing what you wanted to do, her needs be damned. Looking at things that way, who's been doing the abandoning, Jack?"
Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Isn't there some astral moratorium to your time spent here lecturing me, Dad?"
Charles shook his head. "If I were a ghost, I suppose there might be."
"You're not a ghost? Then what are you?"
"That's for you to decide, Jack. I don't care what you think I am. All I want is for you to listen, and to think about what I said."

Jack pushed back from the table and wobbled over to the bed. "Well, I hope you don't mind, but it's been a taxing day. I need some sleep. I trust you can find your way out." He laid down face first, not even bothering to take off his boots.
"Yes, yes, I can," said Charles sadly. "Just... just know that I love you, Jack. I always have."
Jack lay there for several moments before answering, "I love you too, Dad. And I miss you so much." A single tear escaped the corner of his eye, hung there for a moment, and dashed itself against his pillow as he drifted off to sleep.

Sunlight struck Jack's face, and the mere act of slightly opening his eyes brought forth a crushing headache. He rolled onto his back and threw his arm over his face.
"What an awful night," he moaned. "I don't know what was in that rum, but it was more like absinthe..."
He lay there a few moments more, then sat up. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked over at the table where he had surely dreamt of talking with his father the night before. And sure enough, there were two glasses, just as he remembered.

And they were both empty.

[Welsh Wench]

October, 1655--Beaumaris, Wales

"I've been thinking, Megan....."
"About what, dear?"
"How having Zara has changed my perspective on alot of things. I need a clean start. Both for her sake and mine. I have no ties to Barbados and for a woman alone, it can be a dangerous place. As much as I don't want to, I am going to sell the plantation and settle back here."
"I think that is an excellent idea, Rhiannon. But how can you do that when you are here in Beaumaris?"
"That's the problem. I have no agent so I have to handle this myself. I'll take Zara and go down there and---"
"You will do no such thing!  A ship and a raucous place is no place for a precious baby! If you insist upon this, then I will insist you keep her with me. Is there more to this than just selling the plantation?"

Honour got up and looked out the window at the falling leaves.
"I want to put this all behind me. When I am in Bridgetown, I will visit the magistrate and quietly get a divorce. With the stipulation that Jack Wolfe will receive the papers six months after it has been final. I will be back in Wales when he finds out and he will think I have been in the Caribbean all that time.  I can't go for an annulment. It gets stricken off the record, Zara becomes illegitimate. And I won't have that. I have grounds on abandonment. Jack abandoned me when he went to Martinique."
"But he was coming back."
"Immaterial. At least to me. He virtually abandoned me that day he left our bed to sleep in Duckie's quarters on the cot. That was the beginning of our end."

She turned to Megan.
"It wouldn't have worked out, Megan. I see that now. We wanted different things. I wanted a home and stability and Jack wanted the sea and adventure. We didn't think that far ahead."
"When do you want to go?"
"I want to leave by next week."
"Next week? Why so soon?"
She sighed.
"I talked to Captain Underhill. The Bonnie Glenn is in port. And I didn't mention Zara because I was hoping you would keep her for me. Captain Underhill took a liking to me. We talked alot in the evenings about astronomy and places I want to go and where he has been and gardening and history...all sorts of things. And don't look at me like that!"
"Like what?"
"I have no interest in Captain Underhill or he with me. He's old enough to be my father. And he thought of me as a little sister. To him I was still James Blake's cousin Mary Carter."
"And you kept up the deception?"
"I see no reason to change it."

"I know you better than this, Rhiannon, and why the rush---aha! A man is involved!"
Rhiannon felt her face blush. "Certainly not. Although Lord Neville did ask if he could call on me. I told him I wasn't ready for that, being newly widowed and all."
"And the lack of black mourning garb didn't throw him off? Or the fact that you were at a ball?"
"He didn't ask, I didn't tell. Megan, I have no interests in a man...yet. But yes, I want stability for Zara and security for us. The fact that Neville asked made it clear to me that I need to plan for our future. I would like to find love again. I had one man who truly loved me and one that I thought loved me. Maybe I will find it again. But if not,  I can settle for companionship."
"It sounds like a cold compromise, Honour."
"It is the least I can hope for. By the time the new year comes, I will be ready to start my life over again. And there is another thing I want to discuss with you."
"What is it?"

"I'd like to move from Wales."
"Rhiannon, no!'
"Oh, I won't go too far. I would like to settle in Scotland."
"Scotland? Why Scotland?"
"I don't know. I like the sound of it. Did I tell you that Zara is one-quarter Scot?"
"What? NO!"
"Jack told me about his Scottish grandparents. From his mother's side. I kind of like the idea of Zara reconnecting with her roots. And Wales isn't so far that I can't come to visit."
"Oh, Rhiannon, don't talk like that. Maybe you will change your mind."
"Maybe. But think of it this way, Megan--Scotland is alot closer than Barbados!"

[Welsh Wench]

November, 1655--Antigua

Josiah looked up at the delapidated tavern sign swinging in the sultry breeze that blew  through the Port St John.
'Yep, bet he is in this one.'
He opened the door to John's Folly.
There standing by the stairway was his captain.

Jack Wolfe stood there, dishevelled and very full of rum. His arm was around the shoulder of a Spanish senorita. She  may have been pretty at one time. Hell, she may still be pretty if she had taken the trouble to sober up.
But there Jack was, up to his usual routine.
Find the lowliest dive in port.
Get stinking drunk.
Find a willing woman of the Spanish persuasion.
Get her stinking drunk.
Go upstairs.

Josiah didn't need to fill in the blanks.
He stood there with his fists planted on his hips, shaking his head.

"Ahoy, there, my quartermaster! Looking for me?" 
Josiah nodded. "Just checking to see where you are."
Jack whispered to the woman, "I'll be right back. It seems Mother wants to see me."
He walked over to Josiah and patted him on the cheek, trying to focus his eyes.
"Well, it seems you found me."
Josiah took him by the arm and hauled him off to a corner.
"How many times do I have to tell you be careful? For all you know, that woman could be working for Mendoza."
Jack looked over at her and then back to Josiah.
"Naw. Not Dolores.  She's as uninteresting as they come when it comes to conversation but I don't feel like talking."

Josiah grabbed his arm.
"You can't keep drowning yourself in rum and every woman that crosses your path. Now let's face it. Honour--or whatever her name is---is GONE. And so are the chests and the money. It's time you forget her. And become the captain you once were."
Jack's eyes grew flinty. "I'm not going to stop looking for her. Not till I get the key back. And some answers."
Josiah said softly, "I just worry about you, Jack."
Jack shrugged off Josiah's grasp and walked away.
"You know, Josiah, some day you are going to make someone a fine mother."
"Too narrow in the pelvis," Briggs muttered.
He watched as Jack climbed the stairs to one of the rooms with his senorita flavor of the moment.

 
"Rum, please." Josiah slid his coin down to the end of the bar and a minute later, a rum slid back.
He had just taken a drink when a captain he had known in the past had ambled in and sat beside him.
"Well, if it isn't the quartermaster of El Lobo del Mar!"
Briggs took a drink and nodded.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Corwin. Last time I believe your ship was sailing into St Lawrence as we were sailing out. How's it been?"
Corwin grimaced. "Yeah. St Lawrence. What a hell of a layover THAT was."
He yelled to the barkeep, "Rum!"
Briggs nodded to the barkeep, "First one on me."
"Well, thank ye kindly, Briggs. And where is your esteemed captain?"
Briggs nodded to the stairs.
"Occupied with...business."
Corwin smirked, "Hope it ends up better for him."
Corwin grabbed the drink as it slid by. It was then that Briggs noticed his hands.
They were both disfigured and contorted.
"Holy Mother of the Sea....what happened to you?"
Corwin took a deep drink.
"Ready for a story you probably never heard and will never hear the likes of again?"
Briggs nodded to an empty table and Corwin followed. 

"It was in St Lawrence. What was it, about a year ago that I saw you last?"
"Thereabouts."
"Alright, so we had a good haul and the crew was feeling a bit riled. Just good harmless fun, ya know? Well, there was this little tavern wench. Good looking piece. Big on top, small on bottom. Just the way I like 'em. She seemed friendly enough. Went the extra mile in bringing me ale and I repaid in kind. As the night wore on, the friendlier she got. She had a thing for captains, I heard. So I figured, it had been a few months since I was in port and I was due. Ya know what I mean?"
Briggs smiled. "Yeah, I know what you mean. We find ourselves in port more and more often. Except Wolfe is searching for---"
"So I make an offer, and paid off her night's wages. May as well make a long night of it, ya know? That barkeep was pretty pissed off but she talked him out of it.
Anyways, we go back to her room. All of a sudden, she gets shy, like she isn't quite sure about it."
Corwin chuckled and then continued. "So I had to teach her that once a frigate is heading for port, you don't stand in the way, ya know what I mean?"
Corwin took a deep drink of his rum.
"Yep, she came around to an understanding real quick. Showed her a few things she didn't know. Guess she didn't like the way it turned out. You know what happened?"
Briggs shook his head. He had always known Corwin to be ruthless on the high seas but didn't know it extended to port courtesies.
Corwin slammed his drink down on the counter. The other patrons jumped and looked over.
He focused his eyes on Briggs. "The little b***h took my clothes and threw them out the window where a beggar took off with them. Rolled me out of all the coin I had in my pockets and left me with nothing but my sword and boots."

He grimaced in recollection.
"Yeah, she made me walk to the dock wrapped in a frilly, lacy, flowery coverlet."
Briggs tried to hide his smile behind his rum. "Well, that doesn't explain the---"
"I'm not finished. Later that night, as I went back in port to see if I could find her--you know, as long as she rolled me for my money, I intended to take that out in trade. I had something more in mind for the little trick she pulled on the apparel--well, find her I did. She was taking in the night air on a stroll by that stone ballustrade that overlooks the port where the harbor juts out. I drew my sword and kept it at her throat. You know, to make her more....compliant? Damn doxy had a sword of her own! And damn if she didn't know how to use it. But I was taking my marks on her. Then I stepped on a wharf cat and she had the advantage. She kicked me and that was the last I remember. My crew found me under some canvas on the dock. And my hands......"
He grew a bit misty and cleared his throat.
"She knew what she was doing. She knew how important a seaman's hands are. And she got even. Hell, Briggs--alright, so I got a bit rough that night. She knew what she was getting into when she took me upstairs. Is that just punishment for ruining my hands?"
Briggs stood up. "Yeah, it does seem a bit harsh. Here...have another on me."
"Thanks. I swear to God, I will find Honour Bright if it takes me the rest of my life."

Briggs felt his heart plunge to his stomach but he acted casually.
"Unusual name. Any leads?"
"I went back to the tavern--think it was the Varlet and Vixen--and her friend said she married a Spaniard and was living in Cadiz."
"Oh, well, then..."
"She was lying. I checked it out. She is somewhere. And when I find her, she becomes the crew's property and hell, she thought it was bad with me?"
He laughed to himself. "Yeah. Fitting justice."
Briggs barely got a goodbye out and walked into the night air.

"Oh Lord, Honour. What have you done? Jack, you had better find her first. And fast."

[Welsh Wench]

Late November, 1655---Bridgetown, Barbados


Honour sat in the small tavern next to an open window. A sea breeze drifted through the window. She inhaled deeply the scent of the salted air, remembering how much she missed it.
She was about to take a bite of her stew when a voice said behind her, "Well, I don't believe it. I finally caught up with you!"

Startled, she looked up to see Cade Jennings grinning at her.
"Cade! What are you doing here?"
He sat down.
"I might ask the same question of you. You left without a word to anyone. So where have you been?"
Honour thought quickly.
"I was visiting my aunt in Barcelona. She married a Spaniard. I needed to put some distance between me and the Caribbean. Find out what I wanted and where I wanted to go."
"When did you get back?"
"Oh...a few months ago."
"Have you made any decisions yet?"
She crossed her fingers, weaving her lie.
"I think I will settle in St Maarten."
"Seems you can go pretty far on ol' Jack's money. Rumour has it quite a bit of his money disappeared around the time you did."
"I don't know what you are talking about. I had money saved and it seemed like it was time for me to go since Jack left me no choice since he pulled that gun on me. But enough about me. What have you been up to?"
"Oh..this and that...a bit of plundering, a lot of piracy."
"The Gryphon."
"She's a fine ship. I have a good crew."
He took Honour's hand, kissing it.
"And I have missed you."

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

Honour laid in Cade's arms, snuggling closer to him. She had forgotten how much she loved being held after.....and how much she missed making love. She hadn't been with a man since Jack had given her the diamond and emerald necklace. The day he left for Martinique.
"Honour?"
"Hmmm?" she whispered contentedly.
"You don't mind if I stay the night in your room?"
She looked up at him.
"Of course not."
"Good. Because I told the tavern keeper I would be canceling my room," he laughed.
She looked up at  him."Pretty sure of yourself, weren't you, Cade Jennings?"
He held her closer.
"Very sure."
"What if I had said no?"
"I made sure you wouldn't, didn't  I?"

His lips traveled down her shoulders.
"I could get used to this when I am in port."
She raised her head up to protest but Cade covered her mouth with a kiss. Not having the attentions of a man since Zara was born, she found herself being swept into the moment.
"Oh, Cade...." she whispered. And thoughts of Jack Wolfe momentarily vanished from her mind.

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

The moonlight shone through the windows. Honour laid her head on Cade's chest, both of them in silence as they recovered from their lovemaking.
Cade idly played with one of Honour's blonde curls as her fingers delicately stroked Cade's chest.
"Honour?"
"Mm hmm?"
"I was thinking....you may not have to get that divorce."
"What are you talking about? Of course I have to get that divorce."
He looked down at her.
"I don't think Jack will live that long."
She raised herself up. "Wh--what do you mean?"
"I mean I've heard from quite a few people that have seen him. Jack Wolfe is in bad shape. He's reckless on the seas and when in port, all he does is wenching and drinking. Almost as if he doesn't care anymore."
Honour felt a knot in her stomach.
"Are you sure? It may just be tavern talk."
He shook his head. "His drinking as escalated to the point that even Briggs can't seem to reach him. Jack won't listen to him. I heard that even Duckie is ready to part company with him. Said he wasn't going to watch him die."

Honour felt sick to her stomach. No matter what had gone down between the two of them, he was still the father of her little girl.
"But here is the advantage to not getting a divorce. Do you realize that as Jack Wolfe's widow, you can claim all that he owns?"
"What?"
"Jack Wolfe is not the kind of man who would write a will. He fancies himself as invincible. But as his widow, you would inherit his properties. Any money he has hidden. And one other thing....."
She looked at him questionably.
"You would inherit El Lobo del Mar."

Honour sat up quickly, the sheet wrapped around her. Cade stroked her back as she ran her fingers through her hair.
"Now wouldn't that be a reversal of fortune? You marry me. Together we would have the Gryphon and El Lobo del Mar. The start of our own fleet."
Honour tried to process all that Cade had suggested. To be the owner of El Lobo del Mar...it was just too absurd.
"And Briggs would be working for us. Can you imagine? Good ol' Josiah, having to take orders from me."
Cade laughed and then pulled Honour to him.
"But enough of that in due time," he said as he kissed her neck.

Jack Wolfe....fearless, bold and courageous Jack Wolfe. To die like a common drunk?
Once again, Jack Wolfe was breaking her heart.
Cade never saw the solitary tear that trailed silently down her cheek as he made love to her.

[Welsh Wench]

 
Honour slipped quietly out of the bed. She shivered even though there was a fire in the small fireplace. She reached to the end of the bed and put her dressing gown on.
She glanced over at Cade but he never stirred.
Pulling back the curtain, she looked out the window to the port of Bridgetown. It seemed so different from the first time she sailed into it. She laid her head against the frame, watching the ships go in and out of the harbour.
Things with Cade were different. Before he was tender and caring. Now it was almost as if he made love like he was getting even with someone.
Was it really true what he said about Jack? Was he really destroying his health with women and whiskey?
In spite of everything, the thought of it made her sick to her stomach. Was she responsible or at the very least, did she contribute to it? Guilt intruded into her thoughts.
Her eyes filled with tears. Cade was the first man she had made love with since Zara was born but it just wasn't the same.
"Honour? Come back to bed, sweetheart." Cade said drowsily from the bed.
She dropped her dressing gown and slipped back between the covers.
"What time is it?" he said.
"It will be light in a few hours."

Cade gave a long sigh as Honour snuggled up against him.
"I'll need to be aboard the ship at first light. There are so many things to attend to when getting ready to put out to sea, and the captain needs to be there make sure it all gets done. You understand, I'm sure."
Honour's body stiffened. She didn't know if it was because of him using much the same words Jack did when ship's business took him away at the crack of dawn, or his casual assumption she would 'understand'. Either way, she was left in the familiar position of playing second-fiddle to a ship. And she didn't care for it.
"That's fine," she replied nonchalantly. "I have business of my own to see to."
"Really?" he asked, as he toyed with her blonde locks. "What kind of business?"
"My business."
"That's awfully coy of you. Haven't I earned the right to know?"
She shook her head. "No, not yet. But you can keep trying."
"I think I can manage that," he replied, and began to kiss her.
"Ah-ah, not so fast. It's going to be a busy day for us both, and I want to be rested. There will be plenty of time for that tonight."
Cade was silent for a moment. He never expected to be rebuffed by Honour. "Well, if you insist..."
"I do. Now, get some sleep."

Honour turned away from him and pulled the covers close to her. Yes, she had established a little more control over her situation. But things still wrong somehow. She closed her eyes, hopeful that the coming day would bring the closure she hoped for.

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

Honour settled back in the carriage. Cade said he would meet her back in the room and he would have dinner sent up for them. With a bottle of madeira. He didn't remember she was partial to merlot.
Jack remembered.
Jack always remembered details.
The meeting with the agent went well. He thought there would be no problem getting her asking price for the plantation what with so many English settlers in Barbados.
Then she had the carriage take her out to the plantation.
She felt the need to explain to the Averys that she had a change of plan. The widow Castlemaine would not be moving to Barbados. Mrs. Avery shed a few tears but felt heartened that Honour was giving them two years' wages. With that they could buy their own cottage. She would give them good references. It was hard to let go of the house that Honour and Jack would have settled in. She sat down at the piano and tinkered a bit on the keys. She had pictured Zara sitting there taking her piano lessons.
Another little dream shattered.
No view from the balcony of the master bedroom. Instead the highlands of Scotland would be hers and Zara's view from their home.
Such a different life she had planned.

The carriage pulled up into the side street next to the market.
Honour handed the driver a few coins over his fare.
"Thank ye, Ma'am. Now ye be careful in this here part of town."
Honour smiled. "I'll be fine. I'm used to shopping and I can handle myself amongst the clientele here."
She almost said, 'I used to be married to one." But bit back on the words.
The morning flew by as Honour did her shopping, picking up silks and fabrics for dresses. The merchants tried to overcharge but Honour was able to get them to agree on the prices she wanted to pay. After a morning of haggling, she felt she deserved a break and looked up at a swinging sign.
The Bilge Pump Pub.

"Can I get you something, miss?"
"An ale, please," she said to the barkeep.
The barkeep put the ale down and she slid her coin to him. The tankard was cold and she pressed it to her cheek to take down the heat in her face. Although it was autumn, the humidity was breaking records.
She took a deep drink and sighed.
Yes, in a few months this will all be settled and I can get on with my life, she thought.
Thoughts of Zara filled her mind and she began to get homesick for her little girl. A new life in Scotland where no one knew who she was or what had happened would give her the fresh start she wanted. So engrossed was she in her future plans, she didn't notice the figure who strolled in through the tavern door.

He paused a moment to let his eyes grow accustomed to the dark and dingy tavern, but quickly gave up. It's not as if he would stop seeing double any time soon, anyway. Drinking the last tavern dry of rum had seen to that. His fingertips danced on the hilt of his cutlass as he quickly surveyed the room. Spying an empty table that gave him a clear view of the room, he quickly occupied it before anyone else could.
As she finished her ale, a pirate sidled up beside her.
"Well, well....we don't often see a woman of your caliber in here. Can I buy you another ale?"
She turned and looked at him, trying not to show the derision she felt.
"No, thank you. I was on my way out. I have to meet my husband."
Alright so it was a lie....
She slid out of the chair and headed for the door. But what she saw froze her heart.
There, seated by the window was the one person she thought she would never see again.

Captain Mad Jack Wolfe.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

The only trouble was to get out the door without him seeing her.

'Oh please, God, just let me clear the door....'
But no matter how she tried, she would have to walk past him.
"Hey, Barkeep! Another rum and... oh, hell, just bring the whole damn bottle, there's a good man!"
The barkeep ambled over and as he was setting the bottle down and Jack was fishing coins out of his pocket, Honour saw her opportunity.
She dropped down to her hands and knees and attempted to crawl out of the bar via the tables that would protect her from his sight.
Almost there... almost there...
She hit the threshold with her knee and stifled her cry of pain.
Scurrying faster on her hand and knees, she had almost cleared the door when she felt someone grab her ankles and yank her backwards. When she felt the pressure release, she tried to scramble to her feet but was unceremoniously set on her feet and as she struggled to run, the arms drew her in a tight embrace against his body.

"I know the shape of that leg and the curve of that bottom anywhere, love," the boozy voice slurred. "And that scent of jasmine. Always did do something for me, " he whispered huskily.

She tried to elbow him in the gut.
"Now, now....no need to be elbowing ol' Jack, love."
"That had better be a pistol that is jamming into my leg."
"One of them," he replied smugly. "I'll leave it to you to guess which. Now is this any way for you to say hello to your long lost husband?"

He spun her around and grinned sardonically at her."Well, well...if it isn't the absentee wife! Hello, darling--fancy meeting you here. But then we met in a tavern and old habits die hard, yeah?"

Honour struggled against his arms and made a noise that was equal parts frustration and disgust. "The only thing I want to say to you is, go to hell!"
"Oh, I've been there, my pet. Thanks to you, I've been there a good long time."
"Jack, let me go!"
"Say please."
"What?!"
"I said, say please. Would it kill you to be civil?"
She took a deep breath and said between clenched teeth, "Please."
"No, too insincere," he said with a chuckle. "Besides, I rather enjoy having you in my arms again."

Honour drove the heel of her boot into the toe of his.
"YOW!! Damn, woman, that hurt!" he yelped, but did not release his grip on her.
She tried again to stomp his other foot, but he was ready and moved it out of her way. Growing angrier by the second, she began stomping repeatedly, trying to injure him again. But even in his drunken state, he managed to evade her.
"I believe we've invented a new dance, love!" he laughed.
His laughter came to an abrupt stop as her elbow dug hard into his ribs.
"OW! dangnubbit! STOP!"
He loosened his grip on her and she took a swing at him, narrowly missing his face. He grasped her by the wrist and she gasped for breath.
Jack chuckled, "I always did enjoy watching you try to catch your breath but for a different reason. The soft glow of sweat-sheen and a heaving bosom..."
"You're disgusting!"
"You didn't always think so."
"And you are drunk!"
"Am I? Well, your powers of observation deserve the bleedin' obvious award."

He pulled her close to him, still not letting go of her wrist.
"It's a smaller world than they'd have you imagine, love. Smaller than I had ever imagined though you could have fooled me for the amount of time I spent scouring the Caribbean for you, that's for sure. But I always knew some day you would come walking through my door again. And here we are."
Jack caressed her cheek with his fingertips. "And we can still catch up on old times, yeah? Did you honestly think I had quit burning for you?"
"I would have thought you had put that fire out a long time ago. I know I did."
"Some fires never die, love. No matter how much we'd like them to."
Jack chuckled ruefully, "No matter how far and wide I've sailed, you always manage to find your way into my dreams. And what fine dreams they be! Short of what we've known of each other, but fine dreams nonetheless. A poor substitute for your exquisite touch, I'll grant that."

Honour's eyes softened. "You know, Jack, we could... restart that fire you spoke of."
"Now you're talking, love! I knew you'd come round--"
"And use it to burn those clothes of yours! Did you stop bathing when I left, too?"
Jack gave a chuckle at her barb. "Walked into that one, didn't I? That lightning wit of yours. I've missed that, too. See how much we have to catch up on?"
"We have NOTHING. Nothing to catch up on, nothing to reminisce, nothing to look forward to with each other, save our goodbyes."

"What's this about goodbye? We haven't had a proper hello yet."
He nodded toward his table. "Let's sit and talk, like normal people."
Honour couldn't contain a sharp, derisive laugh. "Normal people? Do you even know what normal means?"
"Enough to fake it in front of this lot," he shrugged. "Just fifteen minutes. That's all I ask. Then we can part ways peacefully."
"Five."
"Twelve."
"Seven."
"Ten. Final offer."
"All right, fine. Ten minutes, and not a second more."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack took her by the elbow and propelled her towards his table. Unceremoniously he gave her a push and she landed hard in the seat. Just as quick, he took his seat and placed a booted foot on each side of her, successfully blocking any exit until he said so. He crossed his arms and smiled disarmingly at her.
"Now, isn't this better? Can I get you a whiskey?"
She laughed bitterly, "No thank you. I haven't been able to stomach it since that night I became your bride."
"Well, this is hardly the greeting I would have expected."
"What did you expect? That I would throw myself in your arms and beg you to take me back?"
'Something like that. Yeah, that and a dose of humility on the side would be a nice touch."
She leaned back and smiled. "What makes you think you haven't been replaced, Jack? In all aspects of my life. After all, we have been separated for quite a while."
Jack smirked at his beloved and leaned towards her.
"Ah....replaced. Not quite the word I was thinking of."
He tapped his chin, deep in thought. Then he snapped his fingers. "Substituted! That's the word! Substituted. A much better word. And so have you, but that is neither here nor there. Never replaced. Yes, we have been apart a long time. Far too long. But do you remember the time we spent in Castara? That poor tree? And those words of love we whispered to one another? Do they keep you warm on cold winter nights? You can't forget them, no matter how hard you try. I  know it keeps me hot....WARM! I meant warm."

"You're like Muir with a bone, only worse," she said with an exasperated roll of her brilliant blue eyes.
"Do you intend to waste all ten minutes staggering down memory lane?  Let me help you out here, Jack. All those words we spoke, all the... everything else..."
She paused to shudder. "It all became meaningless when you drew that pistol and threatened to kill me in your drunken fit of jealous rage. I didn't do that. You did. Now, I've put all that behind me and moved on. That's what you need to do. Get over it and move on. I'm out of your life and you're out of mine, and I prefer it that way."

Jack gave a resigned sigh. "I suppose you're right. I've been holding a candle for you all this time, and it's one more flame that should be extinguished."

"Now you're talking some sense, Jack. We had our brief day in the sun, but that ended. Life goes on, and so should we."
"I agree. But before we part ways for good, I have a question. More a request, actually."

"And what is that?" Honour asked warily.
"Since our marriage is over, as you've so clearly impressed upon me, then I suspect the sentimental keepsake we exchanged hold no value for you?"
"What?"
"Say, a certain brassy disc with all manner of spindly arms sticking out from its leering face? Remember it?"
  Honour's eyes narrowed. "I remember it. That was your sorry excuse for a wedding ring."
"The hour was late and I had to improvise."
"The hour was late, and you wanted in my bed."
"Pot-a-to, po-tah-to. Do you still have it?"

Honour looked steadily at Jack. "My, my...for a piece of jewelry that wasn't impressive in the first place, you seem to want it pretty badly.
What makes you think I even have it? And if I did, why would I, in a fit of generosity, turn it back to you? I certainly wish I could remember what happened to it. It was so long ago. Why, it could be anywhere. In my room. At the bottom of the ocean. On the bosom of a noblewoman in England. Of course, it would have to be a very large woman. And kind of homely too..."

Jack feigned a defeated posture for a moment, then smiled sardonically. "Well, good for you, love. You've bested ol' Jack at his own game. Nicely played."

She sighed. "If you REALLY must know what happened to it, I gave it to a captain. He in turn sold it for me and gave me the profit.
Didn't ask a percentage, either. Just did it as a favor to a friend. Well, if you want to find it, I daresay it could be on the chest of any high-classed noblewoman. I'd start looking in the Caribbean. Failing that, I'd start in Cornwall and work my way across the continent."

She gave Jack a stern look. "Are we done here? I have shopping to do."
Jack shook his head slowly and used his feet to pull her chair a little closer to the table. "I don't believe you. See, I remember how you get when you're cornered. You throw up all manner of possibilities and distractions in hopes you can confuse the other person with twisty-turny logic. Well, sunshine, it's not going to work this time. I want the trinket."
"Read my lips. I don't HAVE it! But what if I told you I have something to offer that's far more impressive than that horrid bit of shine you're so fixated on?"
"And what could that possibly be, my pet?"
"This table."
"What? What are you---"
Honour grabbed hold of the table, gave it a quick twist so one of the legs was lined up with her estranged husband's crotch, and shoved hard.
But Jack was quicker.
"Darling you know how particular I am about the family jewels," his eyes glittered hard into hers. "I was rather hoping for a playful game of footsie, but I can see that's out of the question now. So back to the matter at hand..."

"Jack, I don't have it, how many ways do I have to say it?"
"Sweetness, the one thing I've come to learn about you is that the more you protest, the less believable you are. I'll admit, we both felt the thunder. But that bit of gold I gave you is far too large and ornate for you to have merely pawned off somewhere. What I'm offering is that there are two keys to a chest in my possession. I have one of them. I, in a moment of indiscretion, gave the other to you. Now, if you'd kindly accompany me aboard my ship, I'll tell you how I came upon the chest after our matrimony."

"Jack, how stupid do you think I am? I board your ship, what is to stop you from pulling up anchor and I will be your bounded prisoner? Let's say I have the Sun pendant and I hand it over to you.  What would stop you from pitching me overboard? I unloaded that amulet as soon as I could. I'll tell you the truth. If you really want it, it is in the coffers of St. Armand's Church. In exchange for a confession well-done. Can't remember the name of the town but it is between Barbados and Havana. THAT should give you something to occupy your time. Think of it as a treasure hunt! I know how you loved them!"

She crossed her arms and gave him that look of defiance he had come to know all too well during their brief one-month encounter.
"So you see--I am of no further use to you. I suggest we both go see the magistrate and end this travesty of a marriage. Then you can buy me that ale AT THE TAVERN and regale me with your little fairytale of how you came in possession of this so-called chest. IF you even have it!"

Jack smirked, "You know what, love? I almost believed you for a moment. But knowing how your mind works, you're hoping I'll divulge more. Well, my sweet, I've learned a lesson or two since our last pairing. Foremost, I should never tell you too much. Secondly, you're better off not thinking that every single word out of my mouth is a lie. Only every other word. Every third word on a Sunday.  So, when I tell you I have the chest in question, and the Moon key, I'm actually being honest with you.  I only wish I'd known about the nature of the chest before I gave you that key. I need that key. It's a fair offer, love. Half the contents of the chest and your freedom to sweeten the deal."

Honour leaned against the wall  and ran her fingers through her hair, twisting the ends as was her manner when she was deep in thought. Jack knew this in their brief month together that this was a tell-tale sign that the wheels were turning in her mind.
He grinned and leaned  closer to her. She quickly whipped out her bodice dagger.

He deftly took the dagger out her hand and flipped it over his shoulder. It clattered on the tile floor behind him.
"Now let us say for the sake of argument I DO have that hideous key. Well, since you once promised me the moon...I prefer to deal with you for the moment on the grounds of mutual respect. But I have no assurance you won't pull that pistol on me once you have what you want.  So....what assurance DO I have that I will be alive once the chest is opened? And make it fast because I have plans tonight."
Jack smiled. "Yes, I promised you the Moon. But the Sun was all I had to give at the moment, much to my later dismay. Thank you for confirming that you still have it! I was beginning to get worried.  You need assurances that I'll keep you alive? I'm willing to share half the contents of the chest and even if it is empty, you go on about doing whatever it is you do. You'll never hear from me again."

"You have no assurances. I would need to think this over. I am not that foolish girl you married. I'm twenty-one now! And I have a new..."
Jack raised his eyebrow.
She continued, "Never mind. I'd have to see this chest before I make any decisions. Grant you, I am NOT saying I have the key. Or even know where it is.  Now---a gentleman would retrieve my bodice dagger for me."
"Retrieve your dagger? But of course!" Jack bowed , swept, and produced Honour's blade. "I see you've kept it as sharp as I taught you to. Well done."
He gently returned the dagger to its scabbard, slipping it between her ample breasts into its sheath. "Now about that breast...I mean CHEST! " Meeting her eye to eye, he continued. "So, you wish to see the chest? It's in my cabin. Twelve hours. I'll meet you on the docks, and you bring the Sun. We open the chest together, in my cabin. And we share whatever wealth is contained within."
Jack smiled broadly, and stole a kiss from her. "Twelve hours, love! And all this will be behind us! You know where to find me. And I'll be waiting for you."

[Welsh Wench]

Honour waited a half hour to give Jack Wolfe enough time to go...wherever he went.
'Probably to that house with the red door and into the arms of the first doxy that answered it.'
She shrugged. 'What do I care what he does anymore? It doesn't concern me....'
But  that annoying small voice inside her said, 'Like hell it doesn't.'
She ran her fingers through her hair and muttered, 'Shut up.'

Honour sighed and looked cautiously out the tavern window. No sign of him. She opened the door. The gloam of a November evening cast shadows on the buildings, giving Honour a sense of foreboding. She couldn't help but cast her eyes right and left.
No, no familiar tricorn.  Still glancing left and right, she headed towards the Castle and Ball inn where she had taken a room with Cade. But it didn't stop her from looking behind her all the way to her room.

As she opened the door, there was Cade setting food on the small table. A bottle of madeira was decanting.
'Still no merlot.....he still doesn't remember I like merlot. Jack always...stop it, Honour! Just stop it. It doesn't matter anymore.....'

"So there you are! I thought you would have been back before this."
She hung her cloak up.
"Oh...you know how distracted I get by a great pair of boots. I mean, when I see boots that are in the cobbler's window."
"And did you buy any?"
"Hmm?"
"Boots. Did you buy any boots?"
"Oh....no, he didn't have them in white which is what I wanted."
"Too bad. So let's sit down and eat before this stew gets cold. I'll set the dishes outside the door so we won't be disturbed."
She sat at the edge of the bed and dropped her skirt and bodice, removing her boots. Taking the ribbon out of her hair she shook her braid loose.
He grinned. "Now that is the way I like you. Barefoot and at a disadvantage in your chemise."
She gave him a small smile and sat down at the table.
"Let's just eat and see what the night brings, shall we?"

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

With the 5:00 AM meeting on the dock in the subconscience of her mind, Honour raised her head and looked at the old clock on the mantle.
'Uhh....time for me to get up, I suppose. I should just forget it. That chest probably holds nothing but a bunch of baubles. Why would whoever have the keys not have unlocked it by now? I should just stay here....'
She snuggled closer to her Cade, his arms around her. The only problem was when they were making love it wasn't Cade but Jack Wolfe she fantasized about. Every touch, every kiss, every caress....no matter how much she tried to dispel it, memories of their intimate times together would not go away.

The nagging thought of the chest and its possibilities kept her from sleeping.
She sighed. 'May as well get this over with. IF I decide to hand over the Sun key.'
She extricated herself slowly from Cade. Carefully she took her pillow and placed it where she was. No sense waking him up and having to explain this crazy stunt.
She quietly got dressed, putting on breeches instead of a skirt. 'Never know when I may have to make a break for it. I don't need a skirt in the way.'

She looked over to where her rapier was, hesitation on her face. 'If the thought even crossed my mind to take it, then take it I shall.'
She scabbarded it and put it on. Reaching over to where she had dropped her clothes the night before, she picked up her bodice dagger and put it in place.
Lastly she slipped the Sun Key in her bodice.
'What am I doing? That is the first place Captain Jack Wolfe would look. '
She put it in her boot and then inserted her sgian dubh. That should camouflage it. Wrapping herself in her cloak, she started out the door.
"Honour? Where the hell are you going, love?" Cade's sleepy voice came from the bed.
Oh dear, the Inquisition begins....
"Nowhere, darling. Just go back to sleep. I have to run an errand and I'll be right back."
"It's barely daylight, for God's sake."
She thought fast. "Well, if you want to get the freshest bread and fruit, you have to hit the docks early. Don't worry. I'll be back within the hour."
Before he could give her the third degree, she let herself out, locking the door behind her.

The sun was just starting to come up over the town. With a bravado she did not feel, she headed towards the docks. Her fingers nervously tapped the hilt of her rapier.
'What am I doing? I should be back in a nice warm bed. Instead I am meeting the Devil himself.'
Within ten minutes she reached the docks. Shading her eyes, she gave a sigh of relief.
'Looks like I have been stood up...'

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

The sun rose over the sea like the Phoenix. Jack watched from the quarterdeck over his morning cup, and smiled at the promise of Honour bringing the Sun key.
A lookout called from his post.
"Cap'n! She's at the docks, but she's stopped! "
"That figures. She always was a big tease," said Jack.
Josiah snorted sharply.
"Just take the key and be done with it!"
Jack grabbed a rum bottle from behind the binnacle and took a deep tug. He walked down the steps to the gun deck and called out to the small form of his bride through the speaking trumpet. "Oi! You! The pretty blonde! Yeah, you, love! Don't be so shy, for you know I don't bite... too roughly! That's it! Come this way, or I shall voice more personal matters for all the good people of this town to hear!"
Jack smiled as Honour grudgingly walked down the pier.

"You said to meet you on the docks. Well, this is the docks and this is where I am standing. So get your arse down here, Captain Jack Wolfe. I'll not venture any further. This is neutral ground. You should be glad I made it down here at all, having met you here at this ungodly hour."

"As you wish!" Jack called, and he laughed as he handed the speaking trumpet off to Josiah. Jack hung his justacorp on the binnacle, and strode down the deck to the gangplank, then to the dock. "How poetic is it, my lovely Honour, that you greet me with the Sun? I hope in more ways than one!"
He took five casual steps forward. "Now, what is that on your lovely hip... a blade? I hoped we were over all that, darling."

She took five steps back.
"You think I have what you need and after you have it, you shall be done with me. How typical of you. I hand over the key and what assurance do I have that my back will be to your rudder in the next hour? And I don't mean floating face down. How can I trust you that I will still be alive an hour from now?"

Jack took a step towards her and she made a motion to unsheath her rapier. "You know I can wield this with the best of them. After all, who taught me the finer points of thrust and parry?"
"I remember those days love," he said, with an almost feral smile. "Quite the student you were. And how exciting the lessons! I wonder... how much do you remember?  But I have no desire to search your lovely body for the Sun key. I take it you indeed have the item you so mightly protested not to have."
Jack assumed a relaxed stance. "You can quit fondling that blade, love. We have business to attend to. I swear, upon pain of death, that you shall return to this very dock. You're more a liability to me dead than alive, love. And upon the completion of our business, you'll get that divorce you're so hot after."

"I knew you could be reasonable in the end, Jack. You always were impressed by a woman with a blade even if you wouldn't admit it. It always got your blood hot. So let us negotiate and get this taken care of so I can go back to bed. IF--and this is a big IF--I decide to hand over the Sun Key, we split the treasure 50/50 and I regain my freedom from you. You promise to go right to the magistrate's and sign the papers and we part. If those are the terms, then yes. We have an accord."

She extended her hand to Jack.
Jack took her hand and rubbed the back of it gently. She withdrew her hand.
"What do you think you are doing?"
"Doing? Doing what?"
She gave him a withering look. "I said I would look at this chest and then decide if it is worth my time and effort. I'll give you an hour. No more, no less."
"Fair enough," he grinned. "Remember how much we could accomplish in an hour? Of course you were unclothed then...."
"Shut it, Jack. Ancient history. Like the pyramids."

  She turned on her heel and walked resolutely down the dock. Tilting her head up towards El Lobo del Mar, she called out, "I'm not asking permission to come aboard, Briggs. I am telling you I am coming aboard. And not because I want to. It's because your captain requests the honour of my presence."

Briggs stood at the gunwale as Honour climbed the gangway, Jack following closely behind.
"Don't ye be concerned none about formalities, Honour," started Briggs. "If it were up to me--"
He broke off when Jack began making quick gestures for him to be quiet.
Honour paused and looked back at Jack, who gave her a suspiciously pleasant smile. She continued on the last few feet and stepped on to the deck.
"You were saying, Josiah?" she asked.
"It's been a long time, Honour. Welcome aboard."
"I promise to make it brief, I assure you."
"Aye, that much I figured. Ye remember the way to the captain's quarters?"
Honour ignored the heat she felt in her cheeks. "I believe I do. And I'm sure my escort will make sure I don't get lost."
"At your service," smiled Jack. "Shall we?"
She stared for a moment at the door to the companionway and gave a resigned sigh.
"I've come this far. Why not?"

"Care to go all the way, love?"
She whirled on him and he gave her an innocent look.
"I meant all the way to my cabin. For Pete's sake, Honour, get your mind out of the gutter."
Briggs stifled a laugh.
"Jerk. I'll find my way."
Jack reached over to the binnacle and took a swig of rum and watched appreciatively as Honour walked down the companionway.
"What is in your mind, Jack? Let's just get the key and get her off this ship!"
Jack framed his fingers and positioned them onto a picture of Honour's backside walking away.
"Ah...she still has it! Hasn't gotten too broad in the beam!"
He picked up a bottle of merlot from the binnacle and headed down following her.
"If I am not out in an hour, Briggs, just don't come looking for me till around...oh, tomorrow morning."
"Aye, Jack. A touching farewell to the lass or is that a thank you for the gift of a key?"
Jack shrugged. "It remains to be seen but hell, I have to get some retribution. Oh...let's say....twenty-four chests of guilder's worth?"
"Take more than twenty-four hours to make that up."
Jack winked, "Not if you know how to use it right!"

[Welsh Wench]

Honour reached the door to the great cabin and paused. She had half expected Jack to make a lunge for the door to make sure she went inside. As she turned, she saw him walking briskly toward her.
"There you are!" she said. "What happened, did you get lost again?"
"Miss me, dear?"
"Hardly. But I knew something was amiss when I felt neither your breath on my neck or your eyes undressing me."
"Really? I can make up for it, I promise."
"Save if for someone who's interested," she replied. "The chest, remember? And not mine, in case you're confused at all."
Jack reached past her to the doorknob, making the most of the confined space they were sharing. Honour rolled her eyes.
The door opened with a satisfying clack. "There you are, my darling. More or less as you remember it."

She stepped into the great cabin and looked around. Clothes were tossed haphazardly on the deck and on furniture, books and charts strewn and stacked on the desk and the large table. And in the middle of the mess on the bed lay the ship's cat, Puddin'.
"It looked better after the fight with Mendoza," she answered.

Jack closed the door behind him. At the sound of the latch, Honour turned back to him abruptly.
"Don't you dare lock that, Jack. I'm warning you!"
Jack opened the door again to show her it was indeed unlocked, and shut it again quietly. "Satisfied?"
She shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry. Trusting you isn't something I find easy anymore."
"You and the rest of the world," he said ruefully.

"What does that mean?" His eyes took on a faraway look. "Oh....nothing. Nothing at all."
But his mind drifted back to the days when he tried to salvage the smuggling operation in Tobago and how it all fell apart. How everything fell apart.
Honour stretched out over the bed.
"And there is my little man! Have you been a good kitty?"
Puddin' rolled over and batted her hand. She petted him under the chin, the grey ship's cat lifting his head up and closing his eyes.
Jack poured a glass of merlot and handed it to her.
"Never thought I would see you in my bed again, Honour." He handed her the glass.
She got up quickly. "I was not IN your bed. I was ON your bed. Get your mind off that, because it won't happen again."
He poured himself a glass and took a deep drink.
"I stand grammatically corrected. But I do remember how you love merlot. Especially before we---"
"Let's get down to business, shall we? Then we can finish this. You get what you want. The key. I get what I want. A divorce."
Jack sighed. "Very well." He walked over to a crate marked Print Werks.
"There it is. In there."
He went to the crate and pulled the lid free. Honour stifled a gasp as filtered sunlight danced on the surface of the golden chest that lay within. Jack lifted the chest free and placed it gently on the deck beside the bed.
"Either you've gotten a lot stronger, or that's not solid gold," she observed.
"My guess is, it's wood covered in a heavy layer of gold. A bit like the Ark of the Covenant, and every bit as impervious. I've tried everything to get it open, and nothing works."
"Except the keys?" asked Honour.
"Exactly! The keys." He patted the pockets of his waistcoat. ""The... keys. I could have sworn I put the moon key in my pocket...."

"You're kidding me. You put me through all this, and you misplaced your key??"
"Not misplaced, mislaid."
"They mean the same thing, Oxford boy."
"Just... let me concentrate! Ah! I know where it is. Stay here, drink some wine, and play with the cat. I'll be back in a flash."
Jack exited the cabin, leaving an astonished Honour there by herself.
"At least there's one man aboard this godforsaken ship I've missed. And how is mama's little man, eh?"
Puddin' purred loudly and rolled onto his back.



Jack walked briskly down the companionway towards the weather deck, trying hard not to let his boot heels make too much noise against the deck planks. The last thing he wanted was for Honour to figure out he was up to something, even though he wasn't quite sure himself what that something was. As he emerged onto the weather deck, he saw Briggs standing next to the main mast, enjoying his pipe. Briggs turned at the sound of Jack's approach.
"I didn't expect to see ye up here so soon. Where be the wife mate?"
"She's still in my cabin," said Jack. "I told her I needed to check on something."
"What about the chest? Did it open like ye hoped?"
"We, um, haven't exactly tried to open it quite yet."
Briggs took a long pull on his pipe, the smoke swirling about his head like gathering storm clouds.

"Why have I got a bad feelin' about this?" he asked rhetorically.
"I promise, I'll explain later. But for now, I need you to do something, and very quietly."
"And what might that be, even though I'm afraid to ask?"
"I know this will sound... unusual..."
"That's nothin' new with you."
"I want you to cast off."
Briggs nearly choked on his pipe.
"You WHAT??"
"Shhhh! You heard me, Josiah! Cast off. QUIETLY. Like we did when we slipped out of Tortuga with that French battleship tied up next to us."
"You're kidnappin' her? Seriously? What are ye thinkin', Jack? She made your life hell when she left. Do ye really think things will be any better when she figures out ye shanghaied her? Ye might as well rub yer arse in bacon grease and call up the Kraken!"
"Note for future reference, Josiah: no more metaphors. Now, just do as I ask."
Briggs shook his head slowly. "Ye haven't thought this through one bit, have ye?"
"Not exactly, no," admitted Jack reluctantly. "But I know this is what needs to be done."
"I'd be a bigger fool than you if I agree."
"You've made it clear that's impossible. Just do it."
With a heavy and resigned sigh, Briggs relented. "Fine, we'll cast off, just as ye want. But have ye given a though how to keep her distracted whilst we make for open water? There's a fair chop near the mouth of the bay, remember. I can make the ship run quiet, but I can't make her ride smooth."
"I'll come up with a plan, Josiah. No worries." Jack began walking back to the companionway. "Thank you, my friend. This will work, trust me!"

Briggs chewed on the end of his pipe as he watched his friend and captain disappear below decks.
"It'll work, all right. It'll work to make her madder than the devil himself!"