(((Right back to Mare. If you are joining us for the first time go away
and read the other two, oops, three chapters first. Anywhoo, I have been
getting more reviews than I expected and it makes me very happy does
little happy dance. Keep up the great reviews. Ok going to write more
now, but first I need some cheese. Don't laugh I have a cheese fetish.)))
Mare looked around franticly, trying to identify her savior or in the laws eyes the murderer. A slight movement and a glint of sun against metal caught her attention, not to mention the other dumbfounded sailors. A man stood in the crow's nest of a larger ship called "The Corona" The sun shown brilliantly behind him, letting no one see but a silhouette. Mare glanced at the other sailors and saw that pistols had been raised. She looked franticly at Jack, but he had seen the pistols before she had.
"Watch out!" Before a single shot had been fired the man leapt from his perch and sailed through the air. Jack, Mare and the others stared in utter amazement as he dove into the water with a rather small splash. They all watched the surface breathlessly, waiting for him to emerge. They waited, three minutes, five minutes, hours it seemed, but he did not come to the surface. Jack looked away and signed a cross against his chest. Mare gave him a look of scorn. Jack shrugged. "I'm a holy man...sometimes." The sailors had lost interest and moved the barrels of their pistols from the wharf's waters, to Jack and Mare's rowboat. Jack began to row franticly.
"Time to go." But to their fortune, mounted guards cantered to the scene, demanding the sailors to but away their arms. And between the shouts and commotion, nobody saw the little rowboat slip around they bay and out of sight.
The little rowboat now lays abandoned on a beach of a small Caribbean town. Jack and Mare walked down the street together, passer-bys little aware of their conversation.
Now love, the best way to pick a pocket is ta simply bump into 'em. They be jostled hundreds of times a day, and they won't know its you." A lost looking wealthy man was headed in their direction and Jack winked at Mare. As soon as the man was at hand, Jack pretend to slip, and bumped into him. The man turned to Jack and scowled. Jack put on a face of mock innocents and stuttered apologies, and even made a slight bow. The man smiled, tipped his hat and continued along his way. Jack craned his head and watched the man go out of sight. Once he was safely gone, Jack held up a money purse and grinned. Then he turned mockingly serious and weighed it in his hand. He furrowed his brow and thought for a moment, then spoke.
"This should buy you a belly full, and me a few mugs o ale." With a swish of his coat, he headed to a near by pub. Mare raised her eyes to the heavens, then followed him inside.
A few hours later, she and Jack emerged, Jack leaning heavily on Mare. She strained to kept the drunken man upright. She walked him down street, after street looking for any place to deposit the heavy slob. Her strength was waning and she looked desperately for a stable or anything. Her luck was high and ahead of her, not a few yards away was a stable, and it looked deserted. With the last of her strength, she dragged him up a latter, into the hay loft, and threw him onto a heap of hay. Unfortunately he clasped her wrist and she fell down beside him. He gave a drunken smile and closed his eyes. He gave a sigh of content and haphazardly tossed his hand, which landed on her breast. She looked down, bewildered, and then calmly flicked it away. He was drunk and didn't know what he was doing. She sighed and ran her hand threw her braids. She was not tired, in the least. She stood and wondered outside and leaned against the wooden walls of the stable and gazed at the stars. Her peace was soon interrupted but the loud wavering singing of a few louts. She rolled her eyes and was prepared to walk back inside, when a hand snatched her elbow and yanked her back outside. She was pressed against the wall and she could smell strong rum. Laughter erupted around her, the same that she had herd only moments before. She rose her hands, trying to hard off the hands that searched her.
"'Eh lads, this one don't talk much." He laughed but was caught of balance and fell backwards. Mare dashed between arms and legs and raced into the stables, closely followed by the others. She skidded around on stray bits of hay as she raced for the latter. As she climbed up she heard the curses of others tripping and skidding on the hay. This only bought her a little time. She reached the top and franticly heaved the latter upwards as the louts came tumbling around a corner. She peered over the edge and to her dismay saw them collecting items to work as some sort of step later. She reached Jack and shook him franticly, but he simply moaned in his sleep and rolled away. She saw the pistol at Jacks waist and fumbled to get it. Once she had it in her hand, she looked at it dumbfounded. She had never shot a pistol before. She had seen men and boys practice, but to load on was an entire mystery. She cocked the gun as she had seen it done, right as a pair of dirty hands appeared over the edge of the loft. He laughed at her shaking hands clutching the gun and soon a torso and a knee became visible as he hoisted himself up. He came bumbling toward her. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the trigger. A loud shot rang out and the man screamed.
Mare looked around franticly, trying to identify her savior or in the laws eyes the murderer. A slight movement and a glint of sun against metal caught her attention, not to mention the other dumbfounded sailors. A man stood in the crow's nest of a larger ship called "The Corona" The sun shown brilliantly behind him, letting no one see but a silhouette. Mare glanced at the other sailors and saw that pistols had been raised. She looked franticly at Jack, but he had seen the pistols before she had.
"Watch out!" Before a single shot had been fired the man leapt from his perch and sailed through the air. Jack, Mare and the others stared in utter amazement as he dove into the water with a rather small splash. They all watched the surface breathlessly, waiting for him to emerge. They waited, three minutes, five minutes, hours it seemed, but he did not come to the surface. Jack looked away and signed a cross against his chest. Mare gave him a look of scorn. Jack shrugged. "I'm a holy man...sometimes." The sailors had lost interest and moved the barrels of their pistols from the wharf's waters, to Jack and Mare's rowboat. Jack began to row franticly.
"Time to go." But to their fortune, mounted guards cantered to the scene, demanding the sailors to but away their arms. And between the shouts and commotion, nobody saw the little rowboat slip around they bay and out of sight.
The little rowboat now lays abandoned on a beach of a small Caribbean town. Jack and Mare walked down the street together, passer-bys little aware of their conversation.
Now love, the best way to pick a pocket is ta simply bump into 'em. They be jostled hundreds of times a day, and they won't know its you." A lost looking wealthy man was headed in their direction and Jack winked at Mare. As soon as the man was at hand, Jack pretend to slip, and bumped into him. The man turned to Jack and scowled. Jack put on a face of mock innocents and stuttered apologies, and even made a slight bow. The man smiled, tipped his hat and continued along his way. Jack craned his head and watched the man go out of sight. Once he was safely gone, Jack held up a money purse and grinned. Then he turned mockingly serious and weighed it in his hand. He furrowed his brow and thought for a moment, then spoke.
"This should buy you a belly full, and me a few mugs o ale." With a swish of his coat, he headed to a near by pub. Mare raised her eyes to the heavens, then followed him inside.
A few hours later, she and Jack emerged, Jack leaning heavily on Mare. She strained to kept the drunken man upright. She walked him down street, after street looking for any place to deposit the heavy slob. Her strength was waning and she looked desperately for a stable or anything. Her luck was high and ahead of her, not a few yards away was a stable, and it looked deserted. With the last of her strength, she dragged him up a latter, into the hay loft, and threw him onto a heap of hay. Unfortunately he clasped her wrist and she fell down beside him. He gave a drunken smile and closed his eyes. He gave a sigh of content and haphazardly tossed his hand, which landed on her breast. She looked down, bewildered, and then calmly flicked it away. He was drunk and didn't know what he was doing. She sighed and ran her hand threw her braids. She was not tired, in the least. She stood and wondered outside and leaned against the wooden walls of the stable and gazed at the stars. Her peace was soon interrupted but the loud wavering singing of a few louts. She rolled her eyes and was prepared to walk back inside, when a hand snatched her elbow and yanked her back outside. She was pressed against the wall and she could smell strong rum. Laughter erupted around her, the same that she had herd only moments before. She rose her hands, trying to hard off the hands that searched her.
"'Eh lads, this one don't talk much." He laughed but was caught of balance and fell backwards. Mare dashed between arms and legs and raced into the stables, closely followed by the others. She skidded around on stray bits of hay as she raced for the latter. As she climbed up she heard the curses of others tripping and skidding on the hay. This only bought her a little time. She reached the top and franticly heaved the latter upwards as the louts came tumbling around a corner. She peered over the edge and to her dismay saw them collecting items to work as some sort of step later. She reached Jack and shook him franticly, but he simply moaned in his sleep and rolled away. She saw the pistol at Jacks waist and fumbled to get it. Once she had it in her hand, she looked at it dumbfounded. She had never shot a pistol before. She had seen men and boys practice, but to load on was an entire mystery. She cocked the gun as she had seen it done, right as a pair of dirty hands appeared over the edge of the loft. He laughed at her shaking hands clutching the gun and soon a torso and a knee became visible as he hoisted himself up. He came bumbling toward her. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the trigger. A loud shot rang out and the man screamed.