New leg. Well, if you can count a peg as a leg. John Silver had taken quite a beating from the fight for freedom at Charleston. However, in an ironic turn of events he'd taken the beating from Vane's men, not the anti-piracy colonials. But the show must go on. He may be a man for himself but Silver was glad he was able to heal and rehabilitate under the careful eye of Captain Flint. Since they returned to Nassau all had been quiet. It was rather boring, but he wasn't going to complain yet. The gold was on the island. Jack and Anne had retrieved it once he had given the coordinates to Max, for his own gain of course. But his priorities had since shifted. He suspected they would again. He could feel a change on the air; it blew through the trees and over the sand and into his senses.
Silver returned from business on Flint's behalf. With a spare piece of fabric he tried to rub the blood from his knuckles, unaware of the dried specs upon his face. Some joked he got his name honestly: Silver, he was known for having a Silver tongue. But ever since they returned from Charlestown to Nassau, Silver had begun to expand his horizons. Sometimes, he found, a fist or a sword could work a lot quicker and more effectively than his words.
Flanked by two men, Silver headed into the bar. The colonials took Eleanor but it was no skin off his back, he could still get a good drink. Max had a hand (invisible or not) in most of Nassau now and since the treasure stint, he had it in good with her. He was safe within her establishments.
He found Max within the bar, spinning her words over a table, closely leaned in to a man John couldn't name. Raising his eyes to the ceiling, John could hear a commotion above them. He got one ale from the barkeep and leaned against the bar with one arm, throwing a look to Max. With a dazzling smile, the once-whore left her company and sauntered over to him, "Interesting day?" she asked with her thick accent that John would find appealing, did he have any interest in Max at all – but she was just as manipulative as he was and he knew how dangerous that could be. She reached up her small hand, licked her thumb and ran it across his cheek, wiping the specs of blood from his jawline. "Thanks," John said, taking a long swig of ale.
A loud yell sounded from the loft above, "Could say the same," he looked at her, his eyes questioning what could be going on upstairs on such a quiet day in Nassau.
"Oh, yes," Max glanced up, "Strangers do not fair well on our island," she said with a small, unapologetic smile, "Caught her trying to steal from one of my customers. I figured it would be best for them to deal with the matter personally, no need to involve any one else."
Another yell sounded.
"A woman?" Silver questioned to the tone of the voice in pain, "Thought you had a soft spot for your kind…. It was not that long ago your fingers were light and in many pockets," he commented.
"Yes, well, Mr. Luddington is a very loyal customer and I do not take kindly to thieves in my place."
Another yell. But this one was louder but it was not the same female sound. It was male, low and in clear pain.
Silver furrowed his brows, "Still think you made the right decision?" he gulped down the remaining ale in one gulp. He set the mug aside as Max studied the ceiling for a moment in thought, "Mr. Luddington had a boy with him, she was outnumbered," but she was not talking to Silver. She skirted around him and for the stairs, but Silver could not turn down a look into the small crimes and trials of Nassau, for the big ones had become tiring and old news.
Before Silver could hit the landing (that damned leg slowed him down a bit) he heard Max gasp loudly and he quickened his pace. He saw the back of a woman, holding Max to her, likely with something at her throat. Mr. Luddington, or so he assumed, was laying on the ground. He didn't seem dead but Silver did not care to figure out the state of his health. His boy was next to him in a similar state, but he groaned quietly.
Silver pulled his dagger from his belt, "Let her go," he ordered.
The foreign woman's shoulders froze. With a good shove, the woman threw Max across the room away from her, sending Max to the ground in a flurry of skirts and hair. She paused for a moment a spoke, "I'd heard rumors…"
It was Silver's time to freeze. With the dagger still out in front of him, he spoke, "Turn around. Slowly."
Slowly, the woman turned around with her hands in the air in front of her, "I thought I might find you here, John."
John's dagger slowly fell to his side, "Josephina." He said in disbelief.
"So proper? Am I not your little Jo any more?" she asked with a smile.
Max had regained her posture and brushed off her perfectly tailored dress, "You know this thief?" Max hissed, returning to Silver's side.
"Max. I'd like you to meet Josephina," John sheathed his dagger and Jo threw aside the jagged piece of glass she'd been using as a weapon.
Jo gave a mock curtsey to Max with a smile, "Pleasure, I'm sure."
Max looked at John, unhappy that John knew the 'thief,' "Who is she?" she demanded, still wanting reason to throw the woman from her place.
"My sister," John replied with a low breath threw his lips. Jo just smiled.
"I thought you were an orphan," Max said, displeased.
"Family isn't always blood," he glanced down at Max, "I think you understand that. Now, if you'll excuse us Max, I need a moment alone with my sister."
Max glanced between the pair, wanting to object but John returned a stern look and without a word, Max descended the stairs.
"How did you find me?" John inquired.
Jo gave a small laugh, wiping her hands on her pants, "John Silver. New Quartermaster to the famed and feared Captain Flint, lost his leg at the battle of Charlestown and is rumored to know some very viable information about the missing Spanish gold…. You might as well have written me your whereabouts."
John's lips pulled into a thin, straight smile, "Welcome to Nassau."