Chapter 9
23 December, 1659 = Tuesday

Walking into the tavern, I was instantly reminded of a small town country bar. In one corner a man strummed some sort of ancient guitar while a fire crackled in a fireplace with a large marlin mounted over it and the whole place was made of wood. Even the few people in it reminded me of small town country, right down to the young redheaded guy in the corner with the rifle on his back sipping from a mug with his fellow redheaded pals.

"Enlisting crew?" a pretty blond tavern maiden asked me as I laid out the ship's articles on a wooden table along with ink and quill.

"I am," I told her.

"Not many here are looking for a ship to sail on," she told me. "Except for the brothers over there."

"Irish?" I asked her but she shook her head.

"Scottish," she told me. "The one with the rifle is the eldest."

"If you'd tell them I'm here signing on crew," I said as I gave her a coin. "And I'd like a bottle of wine."

"Coming right up," she told me as she sashayed away. I took a seat at the table and waited and watched. The tavern maid went by the redheads table and talked briefly with them before heading to the bar which then made the redheads look my way. They then talked among themselves for a bit while the tavern maid brought me a bottle of wine and a cup and I began the waiting game, which as a truck driver meant I was over qualified.

"Ye be lookin' for crew?" the eldest of the redheads asked once he sauntered over. I appraised the lad, couldn't be much over twenty and his curly red hair tied back in a ponytail but still very much untamed. He was dressed like any other sailor I had seen with a dark blue overcoat, and his accent was a heavy Scottish that seemed of a high range and I bet an excellent tenor. "Name's Meredith Dunbroch."

"I am," I told her, though the name threw me and do a double take. Though well built, his baggy clothing hid "I've taken six ships in the past week, but I lost most of my crew in my last boarding action where we killed over a hundred and twenty British."

"How many men ye have?" Meredith asked me.

"About twelve surviving," I told her. "I captured the ship, a sloop of war, and brought it back with me though the price I paid was dear. It'll be my new flagship starting out."

"Sounds like ye know what ye are doin' if ye can take a warship," he said, nodding his head in thought before turning to his brothers. "Harris, Hubert, Hamish! Get over here an' sign this!"

"Sure," one of the brothers said as they all stood and filed over.

"Meredith," I said as I watched him write out his name in neat, fluid cursive. "I could have sworn that was a girl's name."

"Ye must be thinkin' Merida," he said as he handed off the feathered quill. "Meredith is Welsh, actually, an' means lord. T'would be funny to see a girl called Lord."

"Hmm," I said, wondering where in the timeline that change occurred. I went to school with a girl named Meredith, but not everything stayed the same after three hundred years.

Still, as the three brothers signed off, I realized I was going to have another problem.

"Triplets?" I mused as I eyed the three near identical lads.

"Aye," one who signed his name as Hubert said. "Mom was right sore over it, I tell ye."

"Hamish!" Meredith barked the young man who jumped at being called out. It also forced me to do a double take on the man's signature and realize I was being swindled.

"Lad," I told him, dropping my voice a bit as I leaned over the table. Hamish got a look in his eyes that told me he knew I was serious about something, but wasn't sure what it was as I continued on with that lower tone. "Do you really think that as I'm signing all three of you and your brothers that any court will distinguish between you signing your name or Hubert's?"

"Eh," he hedged but Meredith ground his teeth as he grabbed the other two by their shirts.

"No funny business," the eldest brother told them as he shoved one forward. "Now sign off as Hamish, Hubert, and Harris will sign his own."

"Besides," I told them as Hubert signed off on the document. "You lads will want your share, right? It's what you're signing up for? Funny business can cost you your share, both figuratively and...literally."

"Oh they'll mind me," Meredith growled as he forced the last brother forward. "Unlike some I can tell them apart and know their tricks well."

"Good," I told him after the last boy had signed off. "Report to the Badger on the docks at eight bells in the morning. We got a cargo to offload after I find a buyer for it."

"Cargo?" Meredith asked me, his face scrunched up in thought.

"Some ships, like the two merchantmen I took have cargo as well," I told him. "As a bonus to the ship's treasury from which form our shares, I will sell that cargo in port for the best price we can get. It means more booty for us."

"Now that I can get behind," Meredith told me with a smile.

"Booty," one of the triplets chortled before Meredith silenced him with a sharp elbow.

"I assume you can use that musket?" I asked her and that made the triplets laugh as Meredith swelled with pride.

"Part yer hair at a hundred paces, he can," one of the triplets, Hubert I think, told me. "Another thing mom were sore over..."

"Not now," Meredith growled as she elbowed him as well. "If ye will excuse us, these three have had too much spirits tonight."

"Not a problem," I said as Meredith practically dragged all three back to their table.

Unfortunately, for a long time they were about the only ones in the tavern besides myself and the guitar player. The light outside faded and the redheads seemed to head off for bed, mostly at Meredith's behest. I was about to call it a night and head home when several men walked in. Their leader was tall and broad shouldered with the one right behind him almost a head shorter with a spare frame. The third one through the door was even shorter and no more than five foot tall but so muscularly built I had no doubt he could pull his own in a fight even if the guy behind him was a beanpole with legs and as tall as his leader. The last man through the door reminded me of my dad in size as he was the same tall and well built person and could probably tip the scale at four hundred pounds easy but I knew from watching my dad that just because you were big didn't mean you were slow or useless.

The leader scanned the room, but it was only when they passed a lit lantern that I got enough of a look at their faces to realize they were Asian. I really didn't give a rat's ass about their ethnicity, their confidant walk in territory they likely knew to be hostile told me each one was competent in something, but it was their military style clothing I wondered about most as it seemed to be some type of leather and cloth armor that was almost matching to the other four in style if not color.

"You are looking for men?" the tall broad shouldered leader asked me in what was surprisingly clean English. I expected more of an accent from the non-natives, but had to admit you never knew where someone grew up and what language they naturally spoke.

"I am," I told him as I looked the pair over. "You five men soldiers?"

"Once," the leader told me, glancing back at the slightly shorter man behind him before looking back to me. "We serve the Shunzhi Emperor no more."

"Make your mark," I told him as I offered him the quill and ink. He wrote his name down as Li Shang, in English script which spoke of an education if he knew English so well. The head shorter man behind him signed off as Fa Ping in shaky handwriting and I figured that Li Shang had to have come from a well off family. Short and stocky merely signed as Yao while beanpole signed the book as Ling. The last to sign was Chien-Po, who like the others spoke decent English due to their time and familiarity among English sailors but weren't quite used to reading and writing in our language.

"We sail soon?" Li Shang asked me.

"In a few days," I told him. "I have recently acquired a few ships in my recent raids on the English and need time to dispose of goods and deal with the upcoming holiday."

"Your Christmas?" Li Shang asked and I nodded.

"After which we will again sail south and raid nearby British shipping," I told him.

"You have places for my men to sleep tonight?" I asked and I nodded as I smiled.

"My most recent capture," I told him as I stoppered the ink bottle and gathered my things. "A sloop of war. If you gentlemen will follow me."

I led the five men out of the tavern and back to my ship in the darkness while the five seemed to carry on a conversation in what I think was Mandarin with its harsh tones. Megara was waiting by the railing when we got close, a candle in some sort of glass lantern lighting her face. She smiled at seeing me leading back the five men and waited patiently while I pointed out the berthing access and told them to find a hammock and get some sleep.

"Five men, huh," she said once they had descended the stairs. "I was expecting more."

"I got four more brothers who will be here in the morning," I told her I looked the ship over in the full moonlight. It looked glorious and I could hardly wait to get it out to sea with a full crew aboard.

"That's better than nothing," she said as I leaned against the railing to watch the faint wind rustle the sheets.

"I hate to say it, but I need to head west," I told her, hearing her suck in her breath once I had said the words."

"Hook..."

"Just to get to Saint Martin," I said as I cut her off, knowing she'd be upset over it. "I need a crew and word has it there's men wanting to work there."

"You're not just doing this to get a chance to take a crack at him, are you?" she accused me.

"Even if I had a full crew I doubt I'd stand a chance against that bloodthirsty pirate," I told her soothingly. "He sounds vicious and smart, and that's a cruel combination."

"So, just for a crew?" she asked me, pulling on my wounded arm. I winced slightly, but I might as well have yelped as Megara snatched her hand away.

"Take the shirt off," she commanded as she reached for the lantern.

"It's a couple of scratches," I told her as I began undoing my shirt. "The former captain of one of the cargo ships was much better with a sword than I am."

"So, what did you do?" she said as she pulled my shirt open and down my sore arm to reveal the cuts. "Have to kill his entire crew to make him stand down?"

"Hardly," I said as Megara examined the shallow cuts that had now scabbed over. I knew they'd heal easily as they hadn't cut entirely through the skin, but they were painful at times when I did anything that pulled on them. "I pinned his sword with a chop and body checked him. Didn't give the little twerp time to recover."

Megara raised an eyebrow at that, but shook her head and said nothing. It didn't take a rocket scientist to link the concern in her eyes and actions with my well being, knowing full well that my continued existence was the only thing keeping her from becoming a prostitute. She eventually sighed as she set the lantern aside, then leaned up against the railing.

"I'm sorry," she finally said as I put my arm around her shoulders.

"It's okay," I told her as I gave her shoulders a squeeze. "I'm starting to wonder if I need to signal my intentions better when I take a ship to prevent this."

"What you need is a flag," she informed me. "You're in a few days, right?"

"Offload cargo, sell the ships, the ball at the governor's mansion," I listed off and then sighed. "A few days to observe Christmas, so yeah, I'll be in for a few days."

"Let me see what I can dream up," she said as she put her own arm around me, then yawned. "Are you ready go get some sleep?"

"Most definitely," I said as I yawned myself. Arm in arm, we walked to the captain's cabin to get some sleep for the busy day we most definitely were going to have tomorrow.