Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Mon Feb 25, 2008 2:52 am|| |
“Marcelle, make ready La Edge! Gather up what crew you can, especially those born and bred in England. I need it ready to sail as soon as possible.” La Edge was the fastest ship in Cathern’s small fleet. It was a modified packet boat and very fast. Cathern used it for smuggling runs or other missions when speed was more important than trading broadsides. Marcelle rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “What is the urgency Capitaine? The crew of La Edge will be scattered all over the city.” Cathern gave Marcelle a stern look. “Then pull some of crew from Whisper’s Edge III. “ Marcelle still looked puzzled and just responded with an “Aye Capitaine” then ran off to as he was told. Cathern returned to her own room, her fingers twisting a bit of her hair. Her unexpected guest had already departed meanwhile Jazelle was packing up their things.
“Jazelle, I thought I ordered you back to the ship. Why were you still here? I saw you leave the room after all.” Jazelle looked down at the floor saying nothing. “Well, speak girl!” Jazelle hesitated for a moment then quietly answered, “I heard you sobbing Mistress after I closed the door. I did leave but, I came back to check on you after a bit. I…you cried yourself to sleep Mistress. I was very worried about you. I hadn’t been back but a short time when your friend came with the dreadful news. Please forgive me Mistress but I only wanted to make sure you were well and to be there if you needed anything.” The slave started sobbing fearing the worst for her disobedience. Cathern rubbed her temples. She had a fierce headache from being awoken unexpectedly, from the news Chantilly had brought, and from the feeling of guilt she bore for thinking ill of Seamus.
Poor Seamus, rotting in a British prison. So she hadn’t been led on after all. She didn’t really know him very well. Not well at all but he was the only one who even thought of asking her to the ball. Not that it would have mattered. She wouldn’t lightly let another valued member of the Highland Confederacy suffer at the hands of the British. Cathern had outlined a quick plan with Chantilly to secure his rescue. Cathern had argued it would be easy for her and some of her crew to infiltrate since she was after all, half English and raised there. A number of her crew were also Englishmen. These were men that were wanted for crimes, deserters of the Royal Navy, and others who found their loyalties with another flag than jolly England’s. It was quite a simple plan really. Cathern would put her ship into the English port, flying the Union Jack. Her and her English raised crew would mill about the town. When night fell, after a prearranged signal, Chantilly’s vessel and any other they could scare up would make a hit and run raid, shelling a portion of the town away from the prison. Cathern had been there only recently so was able to sketch a map. After loosing a broadside or two the diversion force would flee. Meanwhile Cathern and crew would storm the prison, free Seamus and any other prisoners then escape to her boat. They would then make a great show of putting to sea to chase down the “cowardly Frenchies”. It wasn’t much of a plan but it was the best she could think of on such short notice.
Jazelle was still sobbing. “There there girl. I won’t punish you. You did what you thought right. After you finish packing, have it brought to La Edge.” Jazelle wiped her eyes and nodded. “Yes, Mistress. I will do it.” Cathern collected up her sword and pistol then left for her ship.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Mon Feb 25, 2008 11:36 am|| |
Cathern had outlined the plan to Chantilly twice, now, and still Chantilly could not grasp how it was considered "simple". The only thing simple about it was its likely outcome, that she and anyone else involved would likely die in a foolhardy assault on the British capital, as British ships chased the squadron she'd be leading on the feint attack. Cathern, of course, had the more dangerous task of breaking out Monsieur O'Flynn.
Chantilly had protested, saying that their roles should be reversed, but Cathern hadn't been of a mind to listen. Not that playing tag with British ships was necessarily less of a death wish, but Chantilly knew that her chances of survival were much greater. The thought ate away at her, but she had to push it to the very back of her mind, hoping that perhaps Cathern had less to live for than herself.
Finding ships for her squadron was a rough task. It was now very late at night, and Chantilly worried that there'd be no chance of finding any decent captains to help. The docks were quiet at this moment, as was much of the town, but there was one place that she instinctively knew would still be abuzz - the tavern. Here goes nothing, she thought, and entered.
She made her way to the bar and tried to garner the attention of the bartender, whom she was sure would have the best chance of pointing out useful captains. Unfortunately the place was crowded and noisy, and her relatively thin, short stature didn't attract much other than a few lecherous whistles from drunken sailors nearby. She sighed in frustration. My reputation is about to get a lot less dignified, she thought...
One of the lecherous drunks had moved closer to Chantilly now. "Hey, girlie, are you coming with me tonight? I'm sure that you are," he said in a low voice, directly into her ear.
"Actually, no, but would you mind giving me a hand?" she retorted slyly. She brought her arm back and socked him hard in the stomach. The drunk doubled over in severe pain, and Chantilly climbed onto his back and stood, so that now she was taller than everyone in the room.
She began to yell at the top of her lungs for attention, and slowly she got it, as each face turned from their friends and drinks to focus on this loud girl in a ball dress. "I need a squadron of France's best captains for a rescue mission in Port Royal. Unfortunately, the best aren't available, and all I have is you lot," she announced, getting a mixed response: some amused, some annoyed, and some ready to kick her ass if they didn't like what she was about to say next.
"Who the hell are you, and what makes you think we're going to go suicide ourselves in a British port?" a sailor near Chantilly replied curtly.
Chantilly's eyes narrowed. Her blade moved from her side to the sailor's throat faster than anyone around her could see it move, and she said in a low voice, "I wasn't asking you if you wanted to come. I was telling you. Any more questions?"
The sailor looked shocked, and slowly nodded. Chantilly removed her sword from the threatening position. She then looked back out at the crowd, knowing that the only way to get them to move would be using the one thing that she would much rather forget...
"So, are you maggots going to let an opportunity to sail with the squadron of Captain Mean Célestine pass you by, or what?"
The chatter in the room reached a fever pitch. She swallowed her rising fear, the fear that was telling her that Mean Célestine had apparently become every bit as much of a household name in the French colonies as she'd suspected. Female pirates, especially pardoned ones... well, news had traveled fast.
But dropping her old name had done the trick, and what seemed a matter of moments, the bar had nearly cleared out and she had a full squadron of ships at her disposal, ready to depart Tampa. Chantilly went over the plan one last time with Cathern, and it was time to go...
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Mon Feb 25, 2008 1:45 pm|| |
Marcus was chatting with the governor when he spotted a carriage leaving at a break neck pace from the chateau. “Someone is leaving in a hurry.” Marcus remarked in a half chuckle.
“In my carriage no less!” replied the governor turning around in alarm.
“If you’ll excuse me Governor I’ll see that this matter is settled…discreetly”, Marcus bowed as he made a quickened pace towards the stables. Unlatching his own carriage horses he mounted one and made off down the main path after carriage.
As night was falling it made it difficult to catch up and simply followed the road back to Tampa. He finally spotted the governors carriage at the main docks. The docks were suspiciously alive with activity as crew and goods were being loaded onto ships. Marcus noticed some ripped fabric on the carriage handle, the design and material was near unmistakable. “Captain Angevin!” he said gritting his teeth.
Approaching the back door the tavern he heard a voice shout out “I need a squadron of France's best captains for a rescue mission in Port Royal.”
“Bloody hell, don’t spout out yer plan!” Marcus said under his breath. He cocked his flint lock pistol and waited in the back alley. He could hear most of the patrons rising to their feet and leaving the tavern headed no doubt for the docks. A lone set came closer and the backdoor slowly creaked open as a thin man slipped out into the alley. Marcus emerged from the shadows slamming his pistol into the man’s back taking his left arm and put a dagger to his throat.
“Hello Bennie” Marcus whispered
“Ack, Marcus” gasped Bennie arching his back at the feeling of pistol.
“Tell me Bennie you weren’t trying to sneak out and tell your little friends what that nice lady said she was going to do?” Marcus pressed the gun into Bennie’s back and began pulling at the dagger over his neck.
“Wha- wha, no no no” Bennie continued to gasp. “Ju- ju- just didn’t want to g- g- go”
“WHO WAS YOUR CONTACT?! WHO ELSE KNOWS?!” Marcus seethed through his gritted teeth
“No- no- nobody, pa- pa- please don’t kill me.” Bennie pleaded
“Just like last time you didn’t know anything, eh? Well let’s see what Mean Célestine has to say on the matter?” with that Marcus clubbed Bennie upside his head and he dropped like a sack of potatoes to the ground.
Marcus dragged him from the alley to the docks. His crewmates enjoying the night air and watching the activity on the docks snapped to attention upon seeing Marcus.
“My effects, gentlemen, if you please?” Marcus said tossing his wig to a crewman and unbuttoning his dress coat. With a quick change Marcus eyed the ships and spotted Captains Flowers Ship La Edge making ready to sail. With the crew busying themselves with reading the ship Marcus slipped onboard and headed straight for the captain’s cabin dragging Bennie behind him. As he approached he could hear Captain Flowers and Angevin discussing something. Opening the cabin door he threw Bennie inside as he regained consciousness crashing into the cabin. Whimpering like a dog Bennie scrambled into the corner farthest from the door and Marcus.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Mon Feb 25, 2008 2:35 pm|| |
Chantilly looked up from the map she'd been studying as the cabin door burst open and two men entered, one roughly tossing the other onto the floor. Annoyed, Chantilly began to bark, "What is the meaning of... Monsieur Villnius?"
Her eyes focused on the two intruders. Villnius looked quite angry, an emotion Chantilly had never seen on him before, and the man he had dragged in was cowering in the corner. It was hard to make him out clearly in the dim light, but she had a decent memory for faces, and she was quite certain she'd seen him recently, in the tavern only moments ago.
"What were you doing, telling everyone in there what your plan was?" Marcus interrupted her recollection curtly.
The tone threw Chantilly off-guard. "I don't recall inviting you to this party, monsieur. What are you doing here?" she retorted. "And who the hell is this poor fellow?"
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Mon Feb 25, 2008 3:47 pm|| |
Marcus grinned, “You really should look at whose carriage you take next time and make sure it’s not the governors. As for this sniveling dog, he could have been the death of you, when you reached Port Royal. Isn’t that right Bennie?” Marcus retorted laying a hand on his pistol grip.
“No, no, I…I wanted to…I wanted to sign up yes, yes reporting for duty sir, err…ma’am, madam, mademoiselle!” Bennie stammered tripping over his own words as he rose to his feet with a trembling salute.
Marcus pulled his pistol aiming low at Bennie’s leg and cocked the flint lock hammer. “Bennie if you lie to me one more…”
“Monsieur Villnius!” interrupted Chantilly, snapping back “You will LOWER that pistol!”
Marcus curbed the rage inside him and let the pistol dip slowly to his side as he reset the hammer to its closed resting position, raising an eyebrow at Chantilly then focused his glare on Bennie. “You owe the lady your life you rat bastard!”
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Mon Feb 25, 2008 5:18 pm|| |
Chantilly rolled her eyes and turned to the cowering man. "Don't worry, you might not owe me anything. I may yet let him kill you. Make no mistake about that."
She sent a sideways glance back in Marcus' direction. "Now tell me how this sniveling idiot is of any consequence."
"With pleasure," Marcus began. "Bennie is a spy for the British, who just happens to have been in the tavern that you just used to recruit your squadron. I caught Bennie here sneaking out the back, no doubt to take the news that Mean Celestine was headed for Port Royal."
"And?" Chantilly questioned. "This is a problem because...?"
Marcus gave her a strange look. "Because you just told them that you're planning an attack?"
Chantilly looked pained, then opened the cabin door and called outside to Cathern's crew, "Someone get in here, tie up this prisoner and gag him, then send him down below deck." Immediately a few crewmen came and fetched Bennie, who gave a smirking smile as he was taken away.
As soon as they left earshot, she then turned back to Marcus. "We aren't really attacking Port Royal, so the information that spy would have passed on would have actually been helpful," she snapped. "Even more of their naval power would have been out in force to stop us, leaving wherever Seamus is even more undefended and making Cathern's job easier."
"Cathern is going in alone?" Marcus asked.
"Under a British flag. The rest of the squadron won't be told until after we've nearly arrived. We'll be running a feint attack, drawing the attention out to the water and away from the jails."
"And then what?"
"Cathern grabs Seamus, we go back to Tampa, and see if there isn't a few minutes of the ball to be salvaged." Chantilly gave an uncertain smile. "So, are you with us, Monsieur Villnius? Or are you just here to question my tactics?"
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Tue Feb 26, 2008 2:39 pm|| |
Marcus nods his head. “I don’t question your tactics, but I do question why we are not under way. Time is of the essence and we will need all the speed we can get. Since my ship is not ready to sail, my blade will be yours to command and, although Port Royal is the lions den I may be able to find some aid when we arrive. ” Marcus snapped to attention giving a sharp salute.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Tue Feb 26, 2008 2:48 pm|| |
OOC:Wow look at all the friends i have hehe.
Love the posts everyone
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Tue Feb 26, 2008 4:12 pm|| |
The squadron left as soon as all the ships were ready, setting a course for Port Royal. Usually Chantilly spent a good amount of time outside, helping the crew with this and that, as the fresh air and smell of the sea seemed to have a placating effect on her usual moods. This time, however, she found herself in her cabin, brooding abundantly with a sense of melancholy.
She recalled the moments just before they had left, when once again she had suddenly become her old self. Mean Celestine. It turns out that old persona hadn't really disappeared after all, just gone into hiding, somewhere deep within herself. As much as it bothered her that she could become that self again given provocation, it was the way she felt while she was Mean Celestine that made her ill inside. The sheer force of will, the power, the control over her own destiny. It was evil, Chantilly knew, but it felt wonderful. Intoxicating.
It was the way she'd felt on that fateful night. She'd made her way to New Orleans, desperate to see him after so many months. His servants had been reluctant to let her in, but she begged, crying, to at least tell Monsieur Maugan that she was here. She was sure he'd want to see her, and she was right. Armand came to the door himself, disbelieving, but there she was, looking up at him expectantly, as if he'd never left.
He had ushered her inside, quickly, as if he was afraid to let even his servants see her. He led her through the winding hallways to a spare bedroom in the back and shut the door behind them, locking it, before finally turning to her and returning her hungry gaze. They didn't even speak; instead they greeted each other as long-lost lovers do, and it was only afterwards that she realized that something was desperately wrong. A servant knocked on the door, and Armand had answered it, whispers flying back and forth between them. He closed it suddenly, and turned to Chantilly then, and told her to get dressed and leave, now. His wife was home.
That was the moment when she had first felt it, that moment of power and clarity of destiny. When she took the small dagger that she'd bought for protection and killed Armand without so much as a second thought. Afterwards, she left with a smile, nodding politely to the servants who let her out disceetly through an alternate entrance. As she made her way down the road, she could hear a shriek from the house...
She was crying now, wailing even, as the memory flooded her. The murder was terrifying to recall, but being... whatever she was at that moment, that was the feeling that she could not bear.
Chantilly spent the entire journey to Port Royal in her cabin, refusing to see anyone, and spending them mostly in her own tortured memories.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Tue Feb 26, 2008 5:50 pm|| |
Only a candle lit the small knot of men located in a seldom used Royal Navy warehouse near the docks of Port Royal.
It was a motley assortment to look at them two dressed as sailors,one that appeared to be a clerk,and two in the redcoats of the Royal Marines.
In a hushed voice the redheaded sailor spoke to his fellows.
"I know it sounds mad but i'll be damned if i'll take another order from one of those Saxon dogs or let that brave countryman of ours be hanged by one." After a moment of quiet one of the marines asked "What'll we do after this then Liam? We'll be just as much an outlaw as the Captain you're talkin about saving,Where will we go?"
Liam smiled "I mean to join that mans crew and if you come with me i'm sure he'll take us all,Think of that lads sailing for a Gael."
All of them had to smile at that thought.
"Aye and from what you've told us he's brave one at that." The other marine said. Liam looked at the circle of his friends "Well What'll be then,are you with me in this?"
Liam's gaze moved from face to face searching for doubt in any of them.
Every man nodded his head in agreement.
"Right then here's what i was thinkin' we have the marines walk up to the Gaol like nobody's buisness then they go in and ask for the Captain say they're taking him to the admiralty for questioning." Liam then pointed at the young man in the civilian clothes "Adam that's where you come in write us up an order and get it stamped can you handle that?" Adam nodded as Liam cotinued "Then we hide the Captain in the wagon Colin and i will be bringin round and we get here to the docks and snatch that little yacht of the governor's that Colin and i have been crewin' and then we ask the Captain where to sail to."
The marine with the sergeants chevrons nodded "That's about as sound a plan as i would come up with lad."
Liam looked at his friends one last time "Alright anyone have a question?"
The younger marine chuckled "Yeah have we all gone barking mad or what?" Hushed laughter filled the warehouse as they filed out heads held high to be Irishmen once more fighting for another Irishman.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Wed Feb 27, 2008 5:32 am|| |
“Raise the Union Jack! From here on out we are just another packet boat in from Bartica. Those not native born Englishmen keep your mouths shut as we approach port. Only the rescue team is allowed ashore. We only have a narrow window of opportunity. We have to get in, get out and be on our way before the tide retreats. Are there any questions?” Cathern scanned the assembled crew. The crew shifted a bit with unease. While it was not unusual to slip in and out of an enemy port with false colors and papers, breaking people out of prison while the town was being shelled was out of the norm. Still, the crew Marcelle managed to scrape up was used to danger of this sort. The ship was often used to dart in and out of the most pirate infested or Royal Navy patrolled waters. They could do this. They trusted their captain.
Cathern turned to Marcelle. “Marcelle, gather up the rescue team and have come to my quarters for a final review of the plans.” Marcelle adjusted his sword belt with his rough hands. “Aye Capitaine. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” Cathern went down to her quarters while Marcelle started collecting up the team. Jazelle was there of course, ever present. “We are going to have guests shortly Jazelle. Gather up a few flasks of rum, the good stuff. Also, get a tray of my sweets prepared.” Jazelle curtsied and departed. A few minutes later there was a knock on her door. “Enter.” Marcelle stuck his head in to make sure Cathern was ready. Cathern smiled, nodded, and then motioned for Marcelle to come in. “Come on in Marcelle. All of you come in.” It was a tight fit in the small cabin as the rescue team filed in behind Marcelle. It was far less spacious compared to the cabin on the larger ships she owned. For most it was their first time in her quarters, at least, when she was in residence. No doubt some had sneaked a peak when she wasn’t aboard despite the threat of a flogging. It was just too tempting and Cathern knew it, or at least wished it to be true. She would sometimes leave an undergarment lying on her bunk when leaving to captain another of her ships, just to tease them. None had gone missing yet but it still amused her.
“Thank you for coming. We have a bit of time before we make harbor so I wanted to go over things one more time. We are going to get one chance to get this right. This will really be thumbing our nose at the English if….no….when we pull this off.” Jazelle entered the cabin with the flasks of rum and a tray of pastries. They were Cathern’s favorite. Flakey crusts drizzled with honey and chopped nuts. Jazelle always made sure there was some available for her Mistress when they set sail. The crew eagerly ate up the sweet pastries and washed it down with the rum. It was quite unusual fare for them and the gesture was appreciated. Cathern finished outlining the plan a final time when the call came down that they were about to enter the port. “All right, it’s about time. You all know what needs to be done. Keep your wits about you and we’ll be back in Tampa in no time celebrating with all the rum and ale you can drink on me. To your posts boys” The picked crew gave a cheer then filed out of the cabin. Marcelle laughed after the crew all filed out. “You certainly know inspire them when you want to Capitaine. I think they would follow you to the Satan’s gates.” Cathern ran her fingers through her hair. “Let’s hope Port Royale isn’t quite so bad. In and out. Keep it simple. Fewer things go wrong if it’s kept simple, no?” Marcelle nodded his head. “I suppose we best get on deck. It’ll be time to dock soon.” The two left together while Jazelle straightened up things. The crew was not exactly the sort of men that were careful and clean while eating and drinking.
The British port was lit with torches and lanterns. A few large merchant vessels were anchored in the harbor. The sounds of singing and laughter could be heard echoing over the water. Cathern peered through the darkness looking for Royal Navy vessels. In the distance there looked to be a sloop. Whether it was Royal Navy or not Cathern couldn’t say. Since they were a smaller boat they were able to sail right up to an open berth on the docks. The crew expertly guided the ship into place, dock handlers securing the mooring ropes. Down went the gang plank. Cathern and the rescue team began to file off the boat. One of the dock handlers spoke up. He was missing some teeth and rum was heavy on his breath “Right then good sir…er…Ma’am. The harbor master ish home for da eve so I needs to record your ship’s name and business here in Port Rolay…Rorary….Royale. Come this way.”
The man swayed down the pier to the harbor master’s office. Cathern followed the man and entered the office. That the man was drunk was good news for Cathern. The man ruffled through papers and books, looking for the registry. Cathern smiled at him. “Celebrating tonight good sir?” The man found what he was looking for then opened the book and passed an ink well and quill to Cathern. “Aye, the Frenchies surrendered another port. It was…was…I don’t remember.” He laughed a drunken laugh and nearly fell over. Cathern filled in the registry book, using the name and cargo of a British packet boat she had captured recently along with a made up name for herself. “The Frenchies were wooped again huh? Here my friend, have a drink with me to celebrate then.” The man laughed as Cathern unstoppered a flask of her good rum then took what appeared to be a long pull though in reality was just a sip. Cathern handed the drunk the flask. “Keep it to celebrate with the rest on duty.” The man smiled and gave his thanks. They left the office, the dock worker giving his thanks again, making his way to his night watch pals. Cathern nodded at her group and whispered for “Let’s go!” The small band of would-be jail breakers made their way down the pier and headed into the city.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Wed Feb 27, 2008 11:49 pm|| |
Marcus snapped his spyglass closed slowly letting out a deep breath. “Well she’s run up the Jack. Inform your captain.”
“She’s refused to answer her cabin door.” Replied Luc
“Her tears alone will sink this ship faster than those British cannons,” said one of the deck hands under his breath.
Marcus turned around in a flash and pointing a stern finger “You will stow that talk sailor! I’ll hear no more of that cancerous tone. This may not be my ship but by God I will see order is maintained.”
The crew paused for moment then quickly set about their duties again as Marcus looked over the deck with a stern gaze.
“Orders?” Luc questioned shyly.
Marcus turned back around to face Luc, “trim the sails and keep a lookout for any other ships even if it’s a fishing boat. I’ll be below to get some of my things.”
Marcus made his way below decks and forward towards his belongings he had brought aboard before they left Tampa. Many things raced through his mind about the coming raid. He knew years of intelligence gathering were at stake and Port Royal was at the middle of it. The effects would mean changed security measures, officer transfers and prisoner relocation. Events had been set in motion with no way to stop them, he could only hope to mitigate some of the damage and see that the rescue succeeds. Unfortunately now it was a waiting game until Cathern gave the signal to begin the assault. Marcus removed from a leather wrapping a uniquely designed musket with a spyglass sight attached to the left side and an ammunition satchel. Emerging topside he proceeded to the stern castle deck now carrying a length of rope and a wooden buoy on his left shoulder with the rifle and satchel over his right.
“Helmsman our current speed?” asked Marcus tying off one end of the rope to a deck kleet.
“Making 5 knots now, sir”
“Very good, Luc come here and call out the lengths of rope as they drop.” Marcus heaved the buoy overboard and began to prime his musket.
“Sharpshooter musket, sir?” asked Luc as the rope began to unravel.
“Aye a special design by my gun captain”
“Is it his own design?”
“It is her special design yes. She's quite the craftsman and even better gunner” raising up the musket Marcus adjusted the spyglass sight.
“30 yards, sorry, her design, sir”
“No need to apologize.” Marcus took a breath an held it squeezing the trigger. The musket sounded and the buoy dipped below the waves then popped back to the surface.
“Good shot sir!” replied Luc with an enthusiastic smile.
Marcus began to immediately reload for another shot. “At 30 yards it just means I could feed myself if there was game to hunt.”
“And run if its a bear”
Marcus smiled as he brought the musket up again re-adjusting the spyglass, “Aye lad bears are never to be trifled with.”
The Musket sounded with a plume of smoke and the buoy submerged and resurfaced again. “Too much powder in that one” grunted Marcus reloading again.
“Military line distance isn't it?”
“You know your battlefield tactics. Aye from 70-100 yards you'll see your first volleys on a level field, from those who call it civilized warfare.”
“You don't agree in being civilized in battle”
“I agree in a warriors honor...but civility of battle, thats what generals and admirals say to make them feel better about the losses. You must never hesitate and always prepare for your enemy to be...uncivilized.”
Marcus waited for the pitch of the ship to level after hitting a swell, and fired. Again the buoy dove beneath the waves and reappeared bobbing on the surface.
“Hmm?” Marcus replied focused on reloading the musket and bringing it up and adjusting the spyglass one last time.
Luc paused for several beats as the last of the rope left the deck leaving the line going taught at 200 yards. “Will...will we survive?”
The musket fire broke a deafening silence. The buoy merrily floated on the surface as a small splash hit a few paces away. Marcus slowly lowered the musket still facing the railing and the open sea. “Luc, tend to your Captain, see that the crew see her proper, it will be night soon and we must be at the ready.”
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Thu Feb 28, 2008 12:58 pm|| |
Luc reluctantly left Marcus and made his way back to the captain's cabin. He took a deep breath, prepared himself, and knocked twice. "Capitaine?" he called loudly through the door.
"Go away, Luc," a muffled voice came from within.
Luc sighed. "We're nearly to Port Royal, Capitaine. The crew and Monsieur Villnius require your presence to make the final preparations."
"Go away!" Chantilly insisted, louder and clearer this time.
"Capitaine, I think that -"
The door suddenly flew open and stopped Luc mid-sentence. Chantilly was standing there, half-dressed, her eyes wild with emotions that frightened him. He instinctively took a step back. Captain Angevin was prone to a great many woman's weaknesses - he and the crew were used to them to some extent, and had learned to ignore them mostly, as she'd always managed to be a capable leader when it was needed - but lately these moments where she acted seriously ill had become disturbingly frequent.
It worried Luc some, not only for the sake of his or the crew's well-being, but for Chantilly's sake as well. When she wasn't ill, she was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met, kind and sweet to a fault. Once he'd heard her laugh, genuinely, and the sound was nearly musical. In those moments he could not imagine how any man could have resisted her, but in the bad moments, like this one, she was fearsome.
Chantilly stared at him coldly. "What part of 'go away' didn't you understand," she said in a low, threatening voice.
Luc swallowed and shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Captaine, you've been in there for two days. Please just come out and eat something, and look over the crew's preparations," he said, with a hint of pleading.
Chantilly sighed, and some of the vileness melted from her eyes as she seemed to really focus for the first time on her assistant. For a moment, she was silent, seemingly to mull the idea of food and company over. Luc held his breath.
Finally, she nodded. "Of course, Luc... just give me a moment to ready myself," she said quietly, nearly in a whisper.
"Yes, Capitaine," Luc smiled, relieved, as the cabin door shut and Chantilly disappeared from sight once again. It was not long before she returned, properly dressed and with her hair combed back into place. The redness of her eyes betrayed her state of mind, but Luc was impressed as usual at how sudden her entire countenance had changed back to the business at hand.
"Where did you say you saw Monsieur Villnius? I should speak with him," Chantilly asked. Luc pointed, and Chantilly turned to go. "Oh, and Luc? Would you mind straightening up the cabin for me? It's a bit dirty at the moment," she called back over her shoulder.
Luc was confused by this last statement, as Chantilly had never been an untidy person before, but he dutifully entered the cabin and gasped. The cabin was in absolute disarray, with books and papers strewn about, and the ball gown lying in a heap in the corner. Not a thing seemed to be in order, even Chantilly's Bible, which was lying open on the bed. The water stains indicated that she had been likely crying over it for a good long while. Shocked by her uncharacterstically careless treatment of such an item, he went to put it away, but not before he looked at what she had been reading:
Hear my prayer, O LORD, and let my cry come unto Thee.
Hide not Thy face from me in the day when I am in trouble;
incline Thine ear unto me. In the day when I call, answer me speedily.
For my days are consumed like smoke, and my bones are burned as a hearth.
My heart is smitten and withered like grass, so that I forget to eat my bread.
By reason of the voice of my groaning my bones cleave to my skin.
I am like a pelican of the wilderness; I am like an owl of the desert.
I watch, and am as a sparrow alone upon the housetop.
Mine enemies reproach me all the day, and them that are mad against me are sworn against me.
For I have eaten ashes like bread and mingled my drink with weeping,
because of Thine indignation and Thy wrath; for Thou hast lifted me up, and cast me down.
My days are like a shadow that declineth, and I am withered like grass.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Fri Feb 29, 2008 3:42 pm|| |
Marcus took a rag blackened from powder and grease from his satchel and began to clean the musket. Looking out over the sea he scanned the blue horizon pausing upon feeling a steely gaze upon his back. A grin slowly drew across his face as he kept his back to Chantilly, still swabbing the musket, “Good to see you top side Captain, your crew—“
“My crew is accustomed to following my orders.” Chantilly interrupted with an authoritative tone.
Marcus lowered his head to look at the musket in his hands, “Of course, I only–“
“And they look at me when I speak to them.” Chantilly cut him off a second time crossing her arms.
Marcus’ grin dropped to a rigid and serious look. Taking the musket in his left hand, he turned on his heels with military precision. His boot heels clicked together as he brought the butt of the musket to the deck with his left hand holding the upper barrel, and brought his right arm to his side forming a rigid line with his body.
“Captain Ma’am” Marcus barked like a new recruit out of the naval academy, making direct eye contact with Chantilly, brought his right hand up for a very precise military salute. “Captain Flowers has raised the Union Jack and proceeded to Port Royal. The ship has trimmed sail to await the attack signal; the horizon is clear; all stations are at the ready and await your command.” Marcus snapped his right arm to his side again as he remained at attention.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Fri Feb 29, 2008 5:14 pm|| |
Chantilly watched the sudden formality of Marcus and immediately felt a pang of guilt for her harshness. It wasn't his fault that things had gotten so... complicated. "As you were," she said, her tone having softened considerably.
The now overly-attentive Marcus gave her a long, odd glance, but relaxed ever-so-cautiously. Chantilly looked away, a hint of pink betraying her embarrassment. "I'm sorry, monsieur..." she said, trailing off, and biting her lip. "It's been a rough few days."
Marcus nodded, and finally lost the tension. "Are you all right, Chantilly?" he asked, his voice even, but with a hint of genuine concern.
She looked back and met his eyes directly. It startled her for a moment, not expecting the disarmingly sincere look. "Non. Though, you might have guessed that," she admitted, "but it's not important right now." She sighed deeply, and continued, "Still no signal from Flowers?"
Marcus shook his head no. "Not yet, but -" he began, but before he could finish, he saw Chantilly's eyes roll back into her head and she began to fall. His quick reflexes allowed him to catch her head before it hit the ground.
"Chantilly? Chantilly!" he yelled at her unconscious body, shaking her roughly. She slowly opened her eyes again, trying to draw the world into focus. Marcus breathed a deep sigh of relief as she finally looked up at him.
"This is what happens when you lock yourself up for two days, you know," he lectured her as he gently lifted her torso up into a sitting position. He motioned toward one of the many crewmen who had witnessed the fall, and barked, "Get her some provisions. Now!" The crewman did not hestitate and scurried off to the galley.
The past few moments finally began to become clear to Chantilly. The color in her cheeks immediately returned as she blushed, deeply humiliated at the state that both her own crew and Marcus had seen her in. She would have to be more careful in the future, she resolved.
"Perhaps you should go back to your cabin, Chantilly," Marcus advised her. "You're obviously not well."
Chantilly shook her head and quickly began to climb to her feet, much to Marcus' dismay. She righted herself and took a few shaky steps, and gave a reassuring smile to the watching crew. "Get back to your stations. You want the British to blow us to pieces, do you?" she snapped, and the crowd immediately dispersed, with the exception of the crewman who had returned with a few pieces of hardtack and a flask of rum. Chantilly took them gratefully and turned back to Marcus.
"It appears... that I might have needed your help on this voyage after all, Monsieur Villnius," she said, with a small, wistful smile.
Marcus attempted to smile back through his obvious concern for her well-being. "At your service, Captain," he said, bowing politely.
Chantilly wobbled a bit again, still feeling faint, and sat back down on the ground to prevent a repeat fall and to feast on her hardtack. "Keep a watch out... I want to know the exact moment that Flowers gives us that signal."
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Sat Mar 01, 2008 11:20 am|| |
Seamus' head swam to think of the last hours events.
When he had seen the marines at his cell door he was certain that the end had come and he was on his way to the gallows.
Even when he saw the sailor the English had brought down to the cells he was at a loss for a moment.
Now he was under a tarp in a creaky wagon on his way to the docks.
The wagon stopped and Seamus was hustled into a darkened warehouse.
As one of his fellows lit a hooded lantern the young sailor handed Seamus a set of common seamans clothing and a sturdy dirk. Seamus changed into the new clothing slowly his injuries making every movement require extra effort.
"I'd wager you remember meetin' me a few days ago eh Captain?" the young sailor asked with a smile. "Aye lad i do and i owe you for more than that by now thats for damn sure,I'm Captain Seamus O'Flynn what's your name?"
After an hour in the warehouse Seamus had met his new crewmen and listened to the plan they'd concocted. "Well thought out gentlemen i'll be glad to have aboard my ship" Seamus rose to his feet and looked at the men gathered around him "Lets get a move on lads i know a fine pub in Grenville,and when we get there i'm buying!"
It wasn't far from the warehouse to the docks so they walked casually acting like it was just another shore leave. The streets were quiet and it seemed like no one was paying them any undue attention.
As they came to the last corner before the berth where the Governor's yacht was docked Liam looked around eyes growing wide "Where's Adam?"
The young man was nowhere to be found. "We need to go now!" Seamus said as he rounded the corner.
When the last of them had rounded the corner from the surrounding darkness came the sound of hammers being cocked back on muskets.
They all came to a sudden halt as the Royal Marines stepped out of the shadows. "Hands Up!,Don't move or we'll fire"
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Sat Mar 01, 2008 1:26 pm|| |
“Stephan, head to beach with your lantern. You do remember the signal correct?” Stephan looked at Cathern nervously, “Aye Captain. I am to swing my lantern in the sign of the cross three times. If someone ask what it is I am doing I am to answer I am praying for luck before my next sea voyage….which isn’t far from the truth.” Cathern nodded. “You’ll do fine lad.” Stephan was the youngest in the group, a boy of barely 15. Cathern didn’t want him near the fighting and if anything went wrong it would be easy for him to disappear into the city.
Cathern watched Stephan disappear. The docks were beginning to quiet down as the night deepened. The group had browsed around the docks for a few minutes after Stephan’s departure to make sure all got their bearings. Cathern motioned for her people to begin heading for the prison. The streets were poorly lit with just a few torches and lanterns giving uneven lighting.
"Hands Up! Don't move or we'll fire!" A voice echoed nearby. For a moment Cathern thought they had been discovered somehow but realized quickly that the voice wasn’t directed at her; it came from around the corner. The team stopped when Cathern did, the same thoughts evident from their expressions. Cathern put her hand out to indicate they should stay then put her finger to her lips to ensure they stayed silent. Cathern took a couple dozen more steps then peeked around the corner. She wasn’t prepared for what she saw.
Around the corner was none other than the very man they had all set out to free, surrounded by some Royal Marines. They had muskets trained on Seamus and a few others Cathern didn’t recognize. It was obvious that Seamus wouldn’t have a chance if they opened fire. Cathern thought to herself rapidly, calculating different strategies in moments. With any luck the bombardment would begin. Cathern backed up a few steps whispering a prayer that Seamus didn’t do anything stupid. Cathern gathered the team up close and whispered what was going on, the voices of the soldiers barking orders heard loudly from around the corner. “With any luck the shelling will start momentarily and we’ll have that as a diversion, if not we need to take out those soldiers without it. We’ll have surprise either way. Be careful. Seamus has some other escapees with him it looks. Is everyone ready?” The team nodded as one, the seconds ticking by as if they were hours, all hoping for the cannon fire to start.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Tue Mar 04, 2008 4:45 pm|| |
Marcus paced the deck checking dark horizon. Port Royal lay starboard, alight as if each lantern in the city were a firefly. Looking aft he could make out the dark shapes of the rag tag fleet of ships that had agreed to either out of fear or respect to join this attack. The night breeze was soothing after enduring the Caribbean heat earlier in the day. He brought out his spy glass looking at the shoreline for any sign of a lantern. He kept Chantilly in the corner of his vision as she leaned heavily against the bulkhead. As the breeze swept over the ship she closed her eyes looking up. Marcus wondered if she was praying or finding relief in the breeze. Snapping his spyglass closed he went back to pacing the deck.
Since nightfall Marcus had ordered all cargo tethered down and complete silence as they made their approach to firing range of Port Royal. Only the creaking of the ships could be heard with the occasional whisper of the wind. Moonlight occasionally slipped through the cloud cover casting eerie shadows over the deck. The last of the sound poured through the hourglass as Marcus flipped it as they entered the next watch of the night. A quick whistle from the look out and suddenly everyone’s attention was to starboard. Several snapping of spyglasses being extended could be heard. A single light far out from the city of Port Royal could be seen flashing as if something was passing in front of it. Marcus adjusted the focus on his spyglass as a bead of sweat formed on his brow.
“Is that it?” whispered Chantilly looking through her own spyglass.
“I don’t know could just be someone going for a stroll on the beach.” said Marcus squinting through the eyepiece.
Chantilly gave a scoffing chuckle.
“Your right” said Marcus as he leaned over the deck hatch to the gun deck. “Pass the word, Starboard batteries, standby”
Whispering below decks could be heard as the orders were passed down the line form one cannon crew to the next. The light suddenly stopped moving. The single lantern light seemed to remain motionless for an eternity. The tension was as thick as fog.
Marcus began muttering under his breath watching the light, “Come on…Come on!”
Suddenly the light moved in exaggerated motions up and down then from side to side. Shifting his view from the beach to Port Royal Marcus yelled out, “STARBOARD BATTERIES, FIRE AT WILL!”
The ship rocked to port unleashing its full firepower in a fiery roar igniting the night ocean with the flash of powder. The following line of ships answered the Acte D'Humilité battle roar with their own accompaniment adding to the symphony of cannons. Marcus took in a deep breath of the powder smoked air, relishing its assault on the senses.
The first barrage decimated the shore front buildings. Most appeared to be stores and shops closed for the evening. Any building that was occupied suddenly had its patrons scurrying and running about. Marcus could make out the distinct color of a marine guard company eating dirt as they dove for cover. He continued to sweep his view over the port up to the fort walls. He could make out their cannon flashes as they began to attempt to return fire. Their shots landed futilely several hundred yards away. Marcus took a quick look at the hourglass. “We'll probably have about a good half hour before they mobilize their defense vessels.” he said to Chantilly now steadying her self against the railing as the ship rocked with the release of another volley. Marcus took on a concerned look again.
Chantilly raised her hand to stop Marcus, “I'll be alright, see to the assault.”
Marcus quietly nodded and returned to observing the damage.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Wed Mar 05, 2008 3:03 am|| |
The sudden report of cannon fire and the resulting noise as the shot hit the buildings echoed through the air. The soldiers all stopped what they were doing looking from one to the other in shock. “What in bloody hell is going on?” the sergeant commanding the group said out loud. Cathern steadied her men “Wait, almost time”. The sergeant barked out an order for two of his troopers to go see what was going on while the rest of the group took the escapees into custody. “Yes sergeant! At once!” The two appointed soldiers took off and ran around the corner and right into the rescue team. Cathern jabbed her cutlass blade into the gut of one while shouting “Now boys! Give them steel and shot!” As one man the team shouted a battle cry and charged into the remaining marines. The surprise was near complete. One marine was able to fire off his musket its round striking one of Cathern’s men squarely in the head. The back of the man’s skull exploded in a shower of brains, skull, and blood, some of which flew all over Cathern’s face, cap, and upper chest, the musket ball narrowly missing her own head. He paid for the good shot with his life as another of her man fired his pistol striking the marine squarely in the heart.
Cathern approached Seamus, blood and bits of brain dripping down her face. “Seamus, we are here to get you out of here. We haven’t much time.” Seamus opened his mouth to say something but Cathern shushed him. “We haven’t time for explaining now! Just follow before we are all in chains.” The group ran back to the docks, cannon fire falling into the town. Screams of pain, shouts of confusion, and the crackling of burning buildings filled their ears. Smoke filled the air and men ran around in confusion barking orders at each other. In short it was chaos on the docks. The group ran to the ship, Cathern shouting at the bewildered and drunken dockhands. “Let loose the mooring ropes! The French are attacking and they will pay for this outrage! The Green Dolphin will chase these cowards down!” She again used the name of the packet boat she had captured.
The rescue party ran up the gang plank as the cannonballs continued to rain down. The ex-prisoners were escorted below deck where rum and food awaited them. Seamus was taken to Cathern’s quarters and tended to by Jazelle. The crew scurried to get the ship back to sea as soon as the dock handlers finished unmooring the ship. Cathern barked out orders, still in English. The crew that didn’t speak English understood what was required anyway and their ship pulled away in short order. The shore batteries had started to return fire at Chantilly’s group. Cathern hoped they would sail to safety soon. She grabbed a hooded signal lantern and tried to send a signal to her friends. Hopefully they got the message. La Edge sailed into the darkness of the deepening night, the flashes of the cannons from the shore batteries periodically lighting up the sky.
The mission was a success. They had lost only one man dead and a few others slightly injured. Stephan had made his way back to ship after the cannons started firing. Seamus and company would need some time to recover from their stay as guests of the British. Later, Cathern heard that the valiant ship Green Dolphin was lost with all hands trying to fight the dastardly French who attacked Port Royale one night. Cathern went below decks to her cabin, looking an absolute horror. The blood and brain matter dried to her skin and clothes despite a feeble attempt to wipe it off. Jazelle and Seamus both spoke at once but Cathern held up her hand to quiet them. She unbuckled her sword belt dropping it to the ground, then tossed her hat on her work desk. Cathen laid down on her bed, not caring if her blankets ended up stained red by morning. The strain had finally caught up with her. Jazelle and Seamus waited a few minutes for Cathern to say something. Instead they heard the rhythmic breathing of a sleeping woman. Quietly, the two left the cabin. There would be time to talk later.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Wed Mar 05, 2008 1:47 pm|| |
Chantilly squinted, trying to look back towards the harbor for some sign that Cathern's mission had succeeded, but the smoke from the constant fire obfuscated any chance at seeing a signal. A sense of panic was rising behind her captain's mask of duty. To come all this way, and to lose them...
"Captain Angevin, we need to get out of here!" Marcus yelled over the roar of the cannons. "Before the British fleet shows up!"
He was right, of course, but to leave Cathern and Seamus behind, not knowing... Chantilly shook her head. "Continue the assault!" she called back. Marcus gave her a dumbfounded look, but turned to the crew and relayed the orders. Another round of fire shot out towards Port Royal, and she hoped that it would hit whatever was holding Cathern and Seamus up. If they were still alive at all, she thought miserably.
Broadside after broadside rocked the ship, back and forth, the motion making Chantilly's illness apparent. The food had not helped her at all, and her head was still spinning from being passed out. She'd had a dream that had made no sense at all, but simply experiencing it had filled her with a profound fear and dread. They already know, and they are coming for you like a thief in the night... The thought of it again caught her off-guard, and forgetting her strong posturing, the next broadside nearly dropped her to her knees.
Suddenly the entire deck was filled with the sounds of yelling. Chantilly looked up and there was another ship, a Triton like her own, that had appeared at close range. She made her way to Marcus and yanked his arm roughly, whipping him around to face her. "How the hell did you let that ship get so close without anyone seeing it?" she snapped.
"I don't know, Chantilly. It came out of nowhere. No one saw it!" Marcus exclaimed, letting a hint of panic show.
A round of dismantling shot went flying, and Chantilly looked up to see the holes rip through her sails. She cussed loudly, and began to bark orders, shouting, "Let's get the hell out of here!
It was too late. The grappling hooks flew into Chantilly's ship, entangling itself in the rigging, and then the ropes pulled tight. Chantilly watched it in a haze as her eyes slowly made their way to the flag on the enemy ship. It wasn't British. She didn't recognize it, but she felt she had seen it before...
She could hear Marcus yelling, telling the crew to preparing for the inevitable boarding combat, but her arms were frozen to her side, unable to draw her own sword. Marcus saw her hesitation, and grabbed her shoulder firmly. "Chantilly!" he said sharply, concerned. She blinked, then finally took hold of her rapier as the boards came over and the crew of the strangely marked ship came over in waves.
Chantilly finally found her core of resolve and led the charge into the fray. She had been trained for this, the pirate's life finally becoming a source of usefulness. She ducked a poorly-swung shot at her head, then struck, sending the attacker's sword flying to the side while her smaller sword plunged into his stomach. No sooner was he down than a second came at her with a fast strike, which she parried, catching his attack with the forte of her blade. She quickly threw this attacker off-balance as well, drawing blood and sending him to the ground to join the first.
Her eyes sought the next attacker, but upon seeing none immediately on her, she took quick stock of the crew. They seemed to be holding their own, especially with Marcus' skilled assistance. She made a mental note to find some way to thank him later when all of this was over.
The thought distracted her enough to allow one more attacker close to herself. This one was obviously not one of the crew, as he was dressed in a dark, well-kept officer's uniform, and he carried himself with attitude. He looked at her directly, and smiled, saying in perfect French, "This will be over before it begins, Celestine."
He lunged at her, and she narrowly dodged the attack. He's fast, she gasped to herself as she regained her balance and posture. The officer smiled again, and once more she only barely escaped his blade, nearly falling over as she darted away. He came at her a third time, and their blades clashed, her strength barely enough to keep his force at bay. "Just let me kill you, Celestine. You don't want to live his life anyway," he murmured quietly so that only she could hear.
Something inside her raged at this comment, and a wave of sudden strength washed over her, and she shoved the officer backwards. The force clearly shocked him, unexpecting such a fight from a small woman like Chantilly. It was enough of an opening that Chantilly managed to strike him in the chest, and he sunk to the ground, the shocked expression melting away. "Don't think you've won, Celestine..." the officer moaned quietly, "the Order knows... and we're coming for you."
His words chilled her, reminding her again of her dream, but she didn't have time to process it. Some of the crew of the enemy ship had begun to flee back to their own ship - an unwise decision, as it was in danger of sinking, thanks to the rest of the squadron. The remaining crew was quickly slaughtered by her crew, despite Marcus' protests to save one for questioning. Chantilly pulled rank, still shaken from the experience and not wanting any of the crew from that creepy boat nearby.
There was still no sign of Cathern, and no sign of the British fleet, but Chantilly was ready to go, and sent the word along that they were to return to Tampa immediately. Cathern was on her own, but somehow, Chantilly wasn't worried about that, as Cathern was a tough character, and Seamus was likely in good hands with her. That dream... and what the officer had said... that scared her much, much more.
Chantilly spent the trip back to Tampa in approximately the same fashion as before, holed up in her cabin, though she made an effort to at least take food and make time for Marcus' reports on the status of the squadron so as not to worry everyone again. She even spent a short time with her sewing kit. She had no talent for seamstress work, but she managed to repair the rip in her dress to a tolerable, if not fashionable, extent.
She thought about the ball some, but the fire for it had long since disappeared. She wondered if William had ever arrived, if he had worried about her, if he was upset that their long date had been postponed like this. When her thoughts finally came to Emile, her heart lept into her throat for a moment, but she realized soberly that he probably hadn't even noticed her absence.
When they arrived in Tampa, she paid all the captains of the squadron for their assistance, though most looked confused about why they had come along in the first place, and then she excused herself to prepare for the ball, or what was left of it. The carriage that she had stolen was, amusingly, just where she'd left it outside the place where Cathern had been staying. A pang of concern hit her, until she realized that La Edge was there... meaning Cathern must have made it back, or at least her ship had. Perhaps she would see them at the ball.
Like she had many nights ago now, she hoisted herself up - carefully this time, as to not rip her dress - and drove her own carriage down the road towards the Baudelaire estate.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn Wed Mar 05, 2008 3:33 pm|| |
Seamus followed Cathern's servant to a spare officer's cabin. The stress of the night's events casting a pall of silence. The girl opened the door "This cabin has been prepared for you sir." "Thank you Jazelle,When your mistress has rested tell her i am anxious to speak with her."
Seamus closed the cabin door and made his way to the bed.
Staring at the beams running across the ceiling Seamus found that despite the fatigue he felt all the way to his bones sleep would not come.
As he tried to relax his thoughts turned to those who had come to his rescue and what he knew some of the had given up to do so.
"How do you even begin to thank or repay such people?"
As the gentle rocking of the ship was lulling him to sleep his thoughts slipped into dreams,Seamus dreamed of dancing,drink,and song his mind replacing the images of blood and death that had so recently been his world with images of pleasure and friends.
|Subject: Re: Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn || |
Rescuing Seamus O'Flynn