In truth of reflection, Stephen would be hard pressed to be sure whom he had been attempting to placate in that moment – the young lord Blakeney, or the poor tortoise whom had startled the lad. As it was, the boy’s calm and apparent delight with matters soothed whatever remaining nerves he held himself, and Stephen could not contain his own smile.
“Yes, I rather suppose it is easy to lose track out here – and they are phenomenally quiet creatures!” They were rather surrounded by them in fact, most of them having wandered a bit more up the ridge in search of more low hanging foliage upon which to indulge. This one, it seemed, had found itself convinced that a shirt would make fine fare instead.
Reaching up, Stephen plucked a branch the tortoise would not have been able to reach on its own, and held it above the creature’s snout – drawing attention to it and hopefully, aiding his young companion in escaping the less than dire clutches of his newfound friend.
“I’d never thought them capable of growing quite so large – it truly is a wonder, this place.” So many undiscovered secrets, nature unveiling countless marvels in one small stretch of islands. He’d meant to do more travelling today, but as it was they had time to sit and rest, which he’d allowed himself on account of his injury – since, they’d found so much in this spot, he’d rather lost the urge to move!
It was not often that the fleet turned its gaze upon vessels belonging to the Navy – preferring to harass merchants and especially the EITC rather than risk directly assaulting military vessels where captains were as likely to fight for the sake of the fight than they were to surrender.
The only time they did targelt a vessel belonging to his majesty was when the cargo aboard that ship outweighed the consequences of attacking her – generally speaking a bit of intelligence Thomas himself was rarely privy to as the essential equivalent to a midshipman. It was for the quartermasters to determine how much the gun crews were entitled to know and today, they had determined it best the crew knew only that this ship would serve well as a replacement for the Brigade while she was under repairs in Port Royal.
As ever, Thomas feared the sight of familiar faces when boarding, and his stomach had dropped down to his toes when he had seen the young lord Blakeney among the captured survivors that would be released when they next made port. He had not meant to make himself known to the boy – had almost missed him when he had come down to check the tally – but now not only had he been seen, he had been just as recognized.
Stilling in the midst of his hard beaten retreat, Thomas considered his options. One way or another, the captain would hear of this – and he would rather she hear it from him than any other. Sighing, he turned and tucked down so that he could approach the brig and speak quietly with the boy.
“There are times when we must favor subtlety, Mister Blakeney – and I do think you’ll agree that this is one of them.” Pressing his forearm against the bars, he leaned his forehead against it in order to keep his back to his own crew and his words private with the younger man. “I’ve no intention of leaving you here for long – but it would be best if you held our old association private. I doubt my friends here would take kindly to it.”
The fact he was ex-Navy was in fact no secret at all, but the boy didn’t know that. What mattered was Blakeney’s companions – they were the ones Thomas could not protect, and therefore were the ones most likely to cause him trouble later. So if they thought they had no hope, it would be better than letting them know there was a chance – and it was not being taken.
Cutler’s smile was somehow sad and bewildered, as if he still could not believe she was really here before him, holding his hands in hers, and as if he didn’t understand how she could not see why he’d wanted the change, before. He bowed until he could press his forehead against his sister’s hands, eyes shut a moment as he tried to find the words he wanted.
“I’ve only just found you- before this… before this, certainly, I had freedom, but what did it matter? Was it even worth it, without you at my side?” He lifted his head, smiling, now, despite the wetness in his eyes. “A world without you in it was not a world worth anything, sister- but now that you are here I see nothing worth changing.”
Jane smiled softly, wanting to turn her hands and cup her brother’s face in them so that he might look at her – but in the end, there was no need to do so. His words were a familiar wound in her as well – a concern she had shared for many years and in moments when it was rather out of place to be so grief stricken.
She could remember all too clearly the terrible, yawning pain inside of her when she first held each of her children, knowing that the most important person in her life before them would never have the chance to meet them. Unlike Cutler, she had people in her life – people who had loved her, had cared for her and believed in her. Yet even still she had been pained for the loss of him – so it made sense, in a terrible way, that he would see so little in the world worth anything without having even that much kindness in his life without her.
“No more of this,” She decided softly, but firmly. “The world shall continue on as it is – and you and I shall master together our corner of it, and be content. For we have everything we could need now.” She gave his hands a squeeze before making the most daring of requests, “Would you come with me, Cutler? If I asked you to leave this war behind, and sail with me to France instead?”
Cutler Beckett was not a nervous man, but he did stand nervously now, waiting for the doctor to acknowledge him. He felt like a bloody school boy with the way he had to control his breathing, and the tightness in his chest. The dreams had become worse, with time, and he’d begun to wonder if, somehow, this was Jones’s doing. Even if it was, he needed it to stop- he hadn’t slept in days, at this point, not without constant interruption.
He stepped into the dim room, and took up the tonic which was to prevent seasickness- running his fingers over the small bottle as he spoke up. “I can see you’re very busy,” he said, and rather than the acerbic tone he had hoped, it came out rather placating, “However I had hoped you might be willing to make another tonic for me. Sleep has come less easily, of late.”
Severus did not need to look up to know he did not have enough stock to achieve what Beckett required. He knew his stores and the valerian root was running low – he had enough to either make the tonic this man needed or brew one more batch of the fever combatant that had been keeping this crew running ever since their last port stay. In a choice between one man’s undisturbed sleep and the welfare of the crew as a whole – there was simply no question which he would choose.
Despite this, he lowered his knife and looked over at his employer mildly. The truth was Severus had very little to fear from Cutler Beckett – his skills made him just irreplaceable enough that pressing him was widely considered unwise. Everyone needed good doctors on their ships – from the EITC and the Navy, to the utterly unscrupled. Nevertheless, his refusal was delicate in the awareness that he could still be accused of insubordination regardless of how stupid it would be to do so – it was, admittedly, Severus’ opinion that men like Beckett were not particularly in possession of the most logical wits.
“I am afraid that is not possible at present, my lord. The ingredients required for your tonic have run dry. While I would be happy to comply once we have time to restock – at present I am afraid there is nothing I can do.” He paused, then, “Short of ensuring you sleep for a week, that is. And something tells me that would not be particularly favorable either.”
@oceanfoamed liked for a starter from calico jack !!!
jack never cared for port royal. it might have been subconscious pride for his own home port or the raving attacks on the spanish that kept him constantly on edge to see those great, red – crossed sails on the horizon. his dislike didn’t stem from unfamiliarity, as jack prided himself on being an adaptable creature. perhaps it was simply something in the air.
the sky bled scarlet and the sun shared the hue of a firing canon as it kissed the wavering, oceanic horizon. purple bruises rolled across the sky, threatening a storm festooned above the east. a great, sun – tanned slab of muscle, tattoo, and knives glared at him from the adjacent jetty, surely thinking that jack was staring at him rather than the foreboding sky. rackham held his gaze and put his sunglasses on with a flick of insouciance before turning his brown eyes front.
heading into town, the two made their way to the rendezvous point with a mysterious caller who was looking to hire their ferrying service, taking less – than – savory cargo from one depository to the other. the meeting wasn’t to convene until long after the sun went down, but jack was eager to sit down at an inn somewhere and eat something that he didn’t have to pick maggots or rat shit out of, and hoped that charles was of the same mind.
“do you know where to find this man? from what i know of him, he’s a lizard looking fuck, but it seems like this place is crawling with people that fit that description uncannily,” he said to charles, who was looking as leonine as ever in the shadows of the sunset.
Port Royal had a bite to it that Charles held little fondness for. Her fortifications were becoming frightfully admirable, and the noose of England throttled the freedom from her more and more with every passing day. While it was not necessarily dangerous to conduct one’s business here, if England’s interests became more focused in this region it was of little doubt where at least one of her fleets would anchor itself.
When that day came, business in Port Royal would become quite a deal more difficult, and the risk of it would either make the profit increase tremendously, or would force it to take place elsewhere until this area, like so many before it, became too dry for any free man to drift in, let alone conduct himself in the avenues of services rendered.
Yet again Charles found himself grimly grateful for the legitimizing papers – even if it did mean a port to answer to, it was a free port in it’s own way, and one not even England would fuck with. It made striding beneath the growing shadows of an English-dominated fort a little less daunting, all things considered.
Jack’s voice drew his gaze away from the shadows, and distracted him from tracking the movements of the redcoats. The man’s irritable manner caused a twitch in Charles’ lips that might have indicated a smile had almost occured on reflex before being subdued. Leave it to Jack to dismiss the ominous sense of foreboding with his saucy observations.
“Lizards ain’t done nothing to deserve being thrown in with this lot,” He pointed out in spite of the seriousness of the situation, “Though I imagine I get your point.” He did – he no more liked this than Jack did, admittedly. “We’re meant to meet up at the Broken Spear, though from what I hear the only thing decent there is the ale.” The food, apparently, was better meant for pigs than people. “Figure we might as well wait somewhere with better fare, in the meanwhile.”
Which would explain why they weren’t heading down toward the Spear, but rather up farther from the docks, toward some of the better establishments. “Unless you had something else in mind.”
Oh he didn’t like this question – or rather, he supposed he didn’t like his answer, the words that fell from his lips so readily to reveal to himself a truth he hadn’t even known was sleeping inside of him. “I suppose because – I feel I don’t want to admit that backing him in the first place was a mistake. If I weather through this, maybe it will all work out, and my actions in helping that man secure the legacy he once had on this island will be made worthwhile, as opposed to a growing mountain of regrets, lies and broken promises.”
“Why? So I can make myself more like you, mate? More like those other dastardly, cowardly souls which care not for the state in which they leave this place for the next?” Jack knew too much about the other side to want to face it with the amount of corpses on his conscience that were known to weigh down men like Beckett, men like Christophe, “When I kill, mate, you can understand this – the consequences of not killing that person weigh heavier on me and mine than the curse that death will set upon me. You’re a treacherous little worm, a right snake in pretty frills, but it won’t be me who kills you. You make enemies everywhere you go and I would hate to deprive them such a delightful opportunity. As for me – there’s nothing more you can do to me, mate. You’re harmless. Killing you would be a waste of my time and a chain my spirit doesn’t need to walk with.”
“You must mean aside from a home to return to,” The words cost him, and he wondered for a moment why he would even draw the point, or admit the truth, “I suppose if I forgot the sight and sounds of my home being destroyed, of the men who protected my family being slaughtered, of my mother and grandmother dying on the ground like animals, I might be quite eager to return to Spanish shores. As it is – I can no more forget those things, than I can my real name. There is no home for me in spain, Armando – surely you know this as well as I do. Why press this scar while it is still tender enough to be made a wound?”
It was strange that she found herself compelled to answer this honestly – there was little she could do about it, though she certainly prayed the compulsion would fade after this. There were too many things that could be asked that were far worse than this, after all.
“To leave behind a legacy in the form of people who remember me fondly, and forge from those who would be my enemies an allegiance that will last long after I am gone from this world. With those things, it is my hope that those who are born today and tomorrow have a better chance at knowing freedom than we do.”
Ocean Archive 