The Raptor’s Tale, Part 8: by Cap'n Jack Black of Flint

BlackJack burst from the tent, and grabbed one of the guards at the entrance.  Speaking in a low growl, he addressed his captive.  “Ye’ve ten seconds to tell me who brought this injured man to Melina, afore I slit yer throat.  The men responsible should have stayed to help her, and I want to know who they are, and where they are. NOW!”  The man in BlackJack’s grip, seeing the fire in his eyes, spoke quickly.

 
“I think they were two new crewmen we picked up in Lisbon, Captain, I swear I’ve never seen them afore!  They said they were goin ta find you, so I didn’t think anything of it!”

 
BlackJack released him, and turned to find Aerak standing there.  The men locked eyes, and Aerak spoke.  “I will find them, and bring them to you.  Something doesn’t smell right here.  Melina says the wound is consistent with the story she was given, but with this new information, there could be a problem.” 

 
BlackJack sighed, and nodded in agreement.  “Aye lad.  Ye’ve got two hours, then I am pullin everyone off this cursed beach and back to the ship, so that we can get to the bottom of this.  I’m off to make arrangements.  You find them, I will be in my cabin, waiting.”  BlackJack walked back to where the jollyboat was, and Aerak began questioning the guards in front of the tents.

 
BlackJack arrived on the ship, and found Mr. Thomas.  Pulling him aside, out of earshot, he spoke quickly and quietly.  “We appear to have picked up some trouble in Lisbon.  Two men seem to have attacked one of Mr. Golden’s gunners.  Melina saved his life, but it was a close thing.  I need to know who these men are, and what is going on.  Aerak is on shore, trying to locate them.  If he’s not back in two hours from now, I want the muster sounded, and every man back on this ship.  IF any are missing, we put out to sea immediately.  I don’t know who they are working for, or if it was just a coincidence.  You know as well as I that I don’t believe in coincidences, so I am going to assume that if we got men on board Drake’s ship, there is a good chance that he got some on ours.  Didn’t think Drake played that way, but we will soon know.  If Aerak was trained by Magnus, and sent by Magnus, then as far as I am concerned, he IS Magnus.  I’ll be in my cabin waiting for Aerak, begin departure preparations.”  Mr. Thomas nodded, turned away, and began bellowing orders to the crew lazing about on deck.

 
The crewmen on board immediately snapped to work, knowing their captain was not of a capricious nature.  If things were suddenly changing, then there was some issue at hand.  As they worked, they started whispering among themselves, until Mr. Miller, Bosun on watch, shouted at them.  “Shut yer gobs, yer not a bunch of gossipmongering fishwives!  Get to work!”  The men quickly, quietly, and efficiently, did just that.

BlackJack stormed into his cabin, drawing and throwing a dagger into a target as he entered.  Standing there in the door, he immediately threw two more after the first.  Anger temporarily sated, he saw that his grouping was a little low, and made a mental note to get some more practice in.  He walked over and retrieved his blades, sheathed them in their proper places, and sat at his desk.  He then poured himself a drink, and sat back, waiting.

 
He didn’t have to wait long before the door to his cabin opened without a knock.  He stood, hand on a hilt when he saw Aerak half carrying, half dragging a semi-conscious body.  Aerak dumped the man in a chair, and spoke. “He’s alive, but his partner chose to not cooperate with me.  He’s feeding the sharks on the other side of the island now.  We need to leave, and I have already passed that word.  Everyone’s breaking down now, and your officers are plotting a course.  We should be underway within the hour, Mr. Thomas asked me to relay to you.  These men worked for Drake, and I suggested to the others that we leave now, as a precaution. I didn’t know what their watch schedules were, and so I don’t know if our plans have been leaked or not.”   

BlackJack nodded in agreement with Aerak’s line of thought.  Before he could speak, the man in the chair started to groan.  Both turned to their prisoner as he slowly became aware of his surroundings.  Fear came across his face as he saw the vicious grins looking down on him.  “I’ll tell ye whatever ye want to know, just don’t kill me like you did Johnathan!”

 
BlackJack grabbed the man by the throat, and spoke, quietly.  “You don’t seem to understand the gravity of this situation.  You have turned Judas to this ship, and will be treated accordingly.  First, you will tell us what you have passed to Drake, how you were getting information to him, and why you felt you had to attempt to kill one of my gunners.”

 
The prisoner nodded, and began to speak.  “We’d been unable to get word out yet as to where we are.  We’ve been under constant watch by one officer or another since we came on board in Lisbon.  Drake knew you were going to Lisbon, and we were watching for you.  Not having seen the ship, I knew you on sight.  Many have heard descriptions of the “great BlackJack Flint”.  So when I saw you head to the inn from the docks, I got Johnathan, and we presented ourselves as in need of work.  Your quartermaster had us swear to the ship’s articles, which we did.  We didn’t think anything of lying to everyone because Drake said the Queen would free us of all crimes committed in capturing you.  We were trying to set up some kind of signal fire when your man came on us.  Johnathan stabbed him in the fight, and we knew if we left him, there would be questions.  So we made up the story and took him to the surgeon.  Didn’t think a woman surgeon would be any use to him.  That’s all I know, I swear it.  Just please, don’t give me to him!” The last was a pitiful cry as he looked at Aerak as if at the devil himself.  Aerak just stood there, grinning.  The way the man stood in the shadow, even BlackJack shuddered slightly.  Standing there next to Aerak, with the way the shadows in the cabin lay, it was like he was standing next to a disembodied head, quietly watching the scene.

 
Shaking his head to clear the image, he still found it difficult to see Aerak’s form in the shadow, almost as if he were made from them.  Clearing his throat, he spoke.  “No, ye’re ta be turned over to Aerak for further questioning.  At least, I won’t let him kill you.” BlackJack grinned evilly.  “First the crew will know that you have played Judas, and they will decide what to do with you.  I suggest you make your peace with your maker, because you will be dead when we are done with you.  That is a solemn vow.  I stated when we left Lisbon that I tolerate no one causing issue with me, my crew, or my ship.  You have now jeopardized all three, because I am not 100% certain I believe you.  While we are getting out of here, Aerak has leave to question you down in the brig, to be certain we know everything you have to say.  I will inform the crew what is going on, and the details of your final moments will be decided.  Then, those will be carried out, and your corpse will be left for Drake as a warning that he’s next.”  BlackJack nodded, and Aerak grabbed the prisoner, dragging him out, while the man screamed all the way.  Finishing his drink, he grabbed his weapon belt, put it on, and headed up to the deck to talk to the crew.

The Raptor’s Tale, Part 7: by Cap'n Jack Black of Flint

The jollyboat scraped the sand as the crew pulled it on shore.  BlackJack and Aerak both leapt ashore, and aided the crew in securing the skiff.  That done, the crewmen moved towards the tent where the ships’ cook was preparing a large feast for everyone.  BlackJack and Aerak moved in the opposite direction, to where the officer’s tents were standing.  There were guards in front of two tents, one being BlackJack’s, and the other, the Ship’s Surgeon, Melina.
 
BlackJack led the way towards Melina’s tent, and called out, “Melina, you available ta talk, lass?”  The two guards shuffled back and forth, looking worriedly at each other.  BlackJack looked at them. “What is the problem here, lads?  Is Melina in, and why you lookin like there’s something ye’re not wantin ta tell me?” The two men looked at each other again, both afraid of the obvious ire now spreading across their captain’s face. “If one of ye buggers doesn’a answer me NOW, I swear by the black depths of hell that I-“
 
“ENOUGH, JACK!” Melina’s voice called out loudly from inside the tent.  “Shut up and get in here, I can’t work when you’re outside howling like a hyena!”  The two guards stepped away quickly, looks of horror on their faces, as BlackJack stood there, looking as if he’d been shot through the chest.  Aerak, trying to fight a laugh, nudged him with an elbow, as he walked towards the tent entrance.  Brought back from his shock, BlackJack snarled at the two guards and entered the tent.
 
The two walked in to see a man on Melina’s table, shirtless, with Melina holding both hands against the lower right side of his belly.  Before BlackJack could say anything, Melina spoke.  “About time you two got here, didn’t anyone tell you I had a wounded man here, and needed your help?”
 
BlackJack began taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves as he answered, “No, lass, the only message I got was that you were settled, and wanted a word.  What do you need?”  He approached the table, noting as he did, that Aerak was moving to the far side of Melina, reaching for bags of supplies, and a small cask of water that was within reach. 
 
She looked at both men, then turned to BlackJack.   “Hold HERE, where my hands are.  Fool fell out of a tree going after something, and ended up sticking himself with his knife.  I need my hands to try and clean and repair the wound, which means you get to hold his insides in while I do it!”
 
BlackJack dunked his hands in the cask of water Aerak had brought over, and then placed his hands over Melina’s, gently applying pressure as she slid his hands out of the wound.  Once her hands were clear of the wound, she also stuck her hands in the water, rubbing to get some of the blood off as she continued speaking. “Fortunately for me he’s unconscious.  Unfortunately, if we can’t get this fixed soon, that condition will become permanent.”  She began rummaging through the rolls of equipment that Aerak brought her.  As she pulled out a strange pair of scissors, Aerak spoke. 
 
“Those forceps are not going to hold much of anything, and you’re going to need more hands in there. I’ve knowledge of anatomy, and can help.  Have you been able to locate the bleeding yet?”
 
Melina looked at him and nodded.  “Yes, the bleed is deep, but I don’t think he hit anything major.  It just looks worse than it is because I have been waiting for you two for gods knows how long, since the rest of the COWARDS,” she shouted the word at the top of her lungs, “refused to come in and help me.”
 
“Easy lass,” BlackJack said, calmly.  “Methinks that Drake might not have heard ye, but if’n ye want to give it another try, be my guest.  Now, I apologize fer me crew bein scared of ye, but I’d like to get this gunner back on his post, if possible.  Are you two ready for me to remove my hands?”
 
Melina nodded, and said, “Yes, what I need you to do is to take a hand on each side of the wound, and pull, GENTLY.  We want to try to get the wound open enough for Aerak and I to get everything sewed up inside him before closing the big hole in his side here.”  BlackJack gulped, nodded, and moved his hands as required.  As he moved his hands from over the wound, blood came pouring out, and both Melina and Aerak reached in, with their hands full of strange tools that BlackJack had never seen, and prayed to all that was holy would never be used on him.  The smell of copper was heavy in his nose, and he fought to keep from being ill.  
 
The two worked quickly and efficiently, saying little, and what little they did say made no sense to BlackJack. Although holding a man’s stomach open, he felt like an audience to the drama unfolding before him.  After a few moments, Aerak spoke again.
 
“There you are, you little bugger!  Damn that hurt!”  He removed his right hand from the wound, bringing a small chunk of dagger with it.  “Stuck myself on the damned thing.  Was stickin out of the bone, must’ve broken when he landed on it.  I think we get everything close up, though.  What say you?”
 
Melina slowly removed her hands, and turned to BlackJack.  “You can let go, Captain.  All we have left to do is close this outside cut.  Don’t know that he would have survived without Aerak’s help.  I know I could have gotten it all done without him, but the time involved may well have been too long.  Aerak, you are definitely a valuable person to have around, and I thank you.”  She began to sew up the wound in the man’s belly as BlackJack and Aerak cleaned their hands as best they could in the water cask.
 
“Well, I thank you both for saving this man’s life.  I don’t think I will have him flogged for stupidity, as I think he got a worse injury.  I will, however find out who he was with, and what happened.  IF you both will excuse me.”  BlackJack stormed from the tent, seeking some hell to raise.


to be continued... 

Southern Atlantia Clothier’s Guild Activities for 2011

Emphasis:  During 2011, the Southern Clothier’s Guild will focus on Italian Renaissance clothing for women during the time period of 1460 through 1540 A.D. with the end goal of a competition to be held at the next Nottinghill Coill Baronial Birthday event.

Activities:  The Southern Clothier’s Guild activities leading up to the competition will include an overview class on Italian Renaissance clothing (already done), a how-to class on documentation, several hands-on sewing and fitting sessions and a final class on putting the documentation and garment together for the competition.

Dates:

July 2, 3, and 4 Sewing Bootcamp

Introduction to Documentation - Her Excellency, Baroness Etain (Saturday, 11:00 am)

Italian Renaissance Bodice (continuation)

Open Sewing 

August 6 and 7

Sleeves for Italian Renaissance gown

Open sewing

October 29 and 30 

Planning and cutting the chemise

Open sewing

November 12 and 13

Sewing the chemise

Open sewing

January 2012 (date TBA)   

Hems and finishing the clothing

Putting the Documentation together (Mistress Etain)

February (or whenever event is held) 

Competition

All sessions will be held at the Church of the Cross in Columbia, SC. The hall will open at 10:00 am and will close whenever everyone decides that we have had enough sewing for the day. The hall can be used for storage of items over Saturday nights. Other activities (such as rapier or heavy practice) or classes are welcome.

Reservations are not necessary but would be very nice

Call:  Beatrice at 803-646-6441 or baronessbeatrice{at}hotmail.com 

Place:  Church of the Cross, 7244 Patterson Road, Columbia, SC 29209 http://episcopalchurchofthecross.blogspot.com/

From Baron Takeda

Konnichiwa & Greetings to the Populace,

I hope this missive finds you in good health and good spirits!
I have just one item of  Baronial business. The office of Baronial Chatelaine is now vacant. If you would like to serve your Barony in this office please contact me at barontakeda [at] yahoo.com

Regards,
Baron Takeda Yoshinaka
Seneschal, Nottinghill Coill

Ahoy the Coill

I have been honored to work as your Baronial Chatelaine for the last year plus.  However, due to personal reasons, I have found that it is time to follow “BlackJack Rule #4 – If it’s not fun, time to back away.”

That said, I have resigned my position as Baronial Chatelaine, and am taking a hiatus from the Society for a while.

I will see folks when I see them.

Yours in Service,

BlackJack