A Forced Liaison

Arriving

Kingston 1717.

Stepping from the Conde de Tolosa onto the gangplank you walked tentatively down to dockside. Hauling your bag over your shoulder you'd never been quite so pleased to see Kingston before.

You weren't a natural sailor by any means and especially hated sea travel when the weather was particularly rough, as it was today.

Glancing up to the sky you examined the black threatening clouds rolling in from the sea.

"I'd hurry indoors and batten down Miss, there's a hell of a storm comin" came a voice from behind

You turned, it was one of the crewmen from the ship, he was hauling crates onto dockside

"Aye, thank you" you smiled looking up again "I think you might be right"

The wind began to whip strongly around the shore kicking sand into your face, you dropped your head, readjusted your bag and trudged down the pier towards Kingston.

It was late afternoon and the shore front market stalls were already packing away, keen to get out of the impending weather headed. Pausing a while, You thought about your meeting that was arranged that evening at the manor house across the bay, figuring you'd got a few hours free time you decided to head for the tavern to rid you of your unsteady sea legs.

It was a relatively short walk across the bay to The Kingston Crown, you dropped your bag momentarily at the door as the straps had begun to cut into your shoulder.

Stretching your neck, you hoisted your bag once again and pushed open the doors, momentarily glancing around inside, you noted about half a dozen people at most. It was one of the quietest you'd ever seen it.

You'd drunk at the Crown many times before, usually every time you'd found yourself in Kingston. It was a colourful establishment usually filled with pent up sailors who'd been at sea for too long but you liked it, you liked that there was no pretence about the place, that you could go for a drink and just be yourself, no one cared.

Your footsteps echoed on the wooden floorboards as you walked slowly towards the bar. Leaning against the counter when you got there, you glanced around.

There was a man sat right at the end of the bar, he was, as far as you could see, unconscious and sat slumped with his head rested on his arms sleeping.

Next to you further down the counter, there was another figure although you couldn't see him properly, he sat leant into bar head bowed over his ale, he wore a dirtied hood that hid his features, and a leather brigadine adorned with muskets. His dirtied calloused hands played with a coin as he sat alone with his thoughts. He didn't glance up.

You slapped two coins on the counter and pushed them forward

"Bottle please."

The barman nodded and turned to fetch you your bottle of liquor. It was then you saw, from the corner of your eye the hooded male glance over.

The bottle was placed on the counter along with a small wooden beaker,

"We're in for a big storm tonight Miss, I wouldn't venture too far from cover if I were you." He said picking the coins up and glancing out of the window

"Aye!" You replied. "I'll bear that in mind thank you" You picked the bottle up and drank straight from it.

The barman nodded as took the beaker away.

The liquor kicked at your throat as it went down but following the journey you'd had earlier you welcomed it's effects. Waiting for the burn to subside you took a seat at the counter and reached inside your coat for the letter that you carried.

You unfolded the thick discoloured paper and read it once again, It was a letter from Snr Torres, Templar Grand master sending instruction of a meeting he'd arranged for you,

You will attend the address given at 2100hrs, here you will meet with a Mr Lauren Prinns and Mr Francis Hume to discuss the whereabouts of Bartholomew Roberts, it's imperative to the Templar order that Mr Roberts is located and enslaved. To enslave a body inspires the mind to revolt, enslave his mind and his body will soon follow. Don't forget, I am trusting you, the entire Templar order is trusting you. A lot rests on the outcome of your meeting, I shall expect to meet you next with plans in place for the capture of Mr Roberts.

You breathed out heavily realising the burden you now carried as you folded the letter back up and tucked it away again. You'd worked with Hume some time before, he was a Templar like yourself, but also a notorious pirate hunter into the bargain. He was ruthless and calculated and stopped at nothing to get his bounty. You lifted your bottle to your lips taking a long drawl from it.

"Bad day?" a voice broke to you side.

You glanced over to see where the voice had come from, it was the hooded man next to you. He was still staring at the coin he span between his fingers.

"Pardon me?" You replied.

"Bad day lass?" He asked again glancing slightly in your direction.

You still couldn't see him properly but you could see a mop of blond weathered hair poking from the nape of his hood now he'd turned.

You paused momentarily bringing you thoughts back round.

"Oh...... Bad journey" You replied .

He nodded and lifted his ale to his lips.

The wind began to howl strongly around the tavern, rattling the shutters at the windows loudly. They made you jump, you turned your head quickly.

"Seems they were right about that storm," muttered the barman as he walked towards the window looking out. The beachside palms now whipped violently in the wind.

I'll wait a while for the wind to subside then I'll make the manor you thought.

"Excuse me," you called to the bar tender, "Do you have the time please?"

"The time miss!" He laughed. "Do I look rich enough to be carrying a pocket watch?"

You didn't reply.

"If I had enough coin to be sporting a pocket watch I wouldn't be running this shit hole now would I?" He wheezed.

Again you didn't reply, sensing your reluctance to bite, his tone changed.

"I don't know lass, reckon it's about six if that's any use."

"Thank you," you replied.

I'll just drink up while this storm passes and head up to the manor for my meeting, you thought. the conversation or lack of it, in the tavern was killing you.

You drank and idled away the flowing hour or so, keeping a close eye on the weather outside, if anything it was getting worse. You stood deciding to chance your luck, picking up your bag you slung it once again over your shoulder and proceeded to walk towards the exit

"Lass, where are you going?" Called the bartender.

"I've got somewhere I need to be, sir." You replied.

"Miss you can't go out there now, it'll be just suicide!" He emplored you.

Dropping your bag down, you walked across to the window and glanced out. You were truly shocked at the sight that met you. The wind blew more violently than ever now, whistling against the windows of the tavern and rattling the shutters constantly, rain was falling so heavily it made it difficult to see very far at all. large pieces of debris tumbled through the streets like paper litter. You agreed on this occasion that it was best to stay put for the time being.

You turned and dropped your bag.

"Bartender........ another bottle for the lass." The hooded male called.

"You're going to be here a while yet lass," he added.

~I did not write any of this! It was all Vegvisir! I may have edited some but this beautiful piece of art in writing form belongs to her! c: Please give her the credit!~