Bloode studied the two men his crew found loitering around the longboat moored at the dock. Scruffy looking, hungry and only a little afraid.

"So what's yer story then? What were you plannin' with my boat?"

The smaller of the two lifted his chin and pulled at the dirty red neckerchief as he answered.

"We was gonna steal 'er, that's what."

Bloode looked surprised and broke into a nasty laugh. "Hark this little dock rat, lads! He was gonna steal our boat!" The laughter spread throughout the crew then stopped abruptly as Bloode pulled out his pistol.

"No need for that, Captain." The other man spoke up. "We're on the run from St. Catherine District. They stuck us on a prison ship and we managed to escape."

"Just the two of you?"

"Nar, we was seven once." The smaller man answered. "That is 'till we met that hellion and her crew at Chatham Cove."

"Her? Chatham Cove? On Union Island?" Bloode leaned forward eagerly.

"Aye, a woman and a pirate crew, careening their ship, and a beauty she was."

"The woman, tell me."

'Nar, the ship. All spankin' clean with fresh varnish and-"

"I don't care about the ship. I know the ship, and I know the woman too. Alicia Hollick of the Pirate Queen."

"That was 'er! No bleedin' wonder we lost five good men."

Bloode told them to sit and he had grog brought to the table for the three of them. Visions of another pouch filled with sovereigns danced across is thoughts.

"When was this, that you saw her?"

"We had a glass on 'er for some time before they dropped anchor."

"The ship."

"Nar, the woman. Hadn't seen form the likes of that for-"

"I want to know how long ago you met them on the beach in Chatham Cove." His voice grated dangerously.

"Four days and a night." The other man said. "But they didn't sail 'til the following day."

"You saw them?"

'Aye, we managed a passage on a schooner out of Bequla. They headed north and we came here."

"North." Bloode rubbed his chin. She was heading into van Dught's waters, not what he might have hoped for.

Slopping down his grog, the small man clumped the mug on the table and raised his chin again.

"We was thinkin' you might use another couple of men. Both good with a ship and familiar with the sea and these waters."

"I've plenty with those knacks. What else are you good for?"

"I warn't in St Kits for knittin'" The small man stated angrily.

"What about you?" Bloode looked at the other man.

"I'm a fair good cook."

"A cook! Really?"

"Aye."

"And a man of few words too."

"I speak when it's required."

"Hey there. How about my offer?" The smaller man stood and leaned on the table.

Bloode looked up at him. "What was it again?"

"I told you, I're a good man with a ship and I can handle a sword and pistol with best of them." He stood up, trying to appear taller.

Bloode shot him on the spot and told the other man he'd better be a fair cook or he'd join his friend.

******

"She's making good time, Skipper. That's why your husband favoured the schooner."

"I know, but we carry more sail. Can you overtake her, Mister Mullen?"

"I believe so, but it'll be a run."

"If we can free those slaves they have aboard, your efforts will be well worth the candle. Henry said a number of them are just young children."

"I marvel at that man's information lines. he seems to know everything."

"In these waters he does." Alicia thumped her first mate on the back as encouragement. "Let's get this done then head home."

"She's heading more sou'west now. Could be she's headed to Curacao, Skipper."

"Then we best close quickly."

Terry turned from the map of the Caribbean framed on the wall of the cabin and greeted his mother formally.

"This is a family discussion, Terry, not Captain to crewman." She rounded her desk and sat, boots up on one corner.

"If it's about the fight on St. Vincent-"

"It is." She watched the signs of frustration building on his face and in his body language.

"Mother, I don't need-"

"I wanted to thank you as your mother, Terry. As Captain I can acknowledge your actions formally at the time, and I did. But as your mother, I had such a surge of pride in my son's presence of mind and ah, obviously improved skills, a more personal thank you was necessary . . . for me."

He blushed and displayed his complete surprise.

"I really thought you were going to lecture me on staying safe or letting the men do the fighting."

"On the contrary. In our last conversation I admitted you were a man. Now I'm thanking you . . . as a young man . . . son." She dropped her legs down, stood and grasped him in a mighty hug, tentatively returned at first then with equal emotion.

"Captain to the deck!" The call came down through the hatch and Alicia immediately sprinted through the door and up the companionway.

"Mister Mullen?"

"She's seen us and she tried running more sail but we are too close for her to get away now."

"So what was the-"

"She's club-hauling. She wants a fight."

Alicia saw the schooner dropping one anchor at speed and begin to come about so they would have a broadside to fire from.

"Man the port gun and put a shot across her bow!"

"We can't give her too much leeway, Skipper. She's carrying four guns a side. It's a custom slave runner for sure."

"If her flag doesn't go up after a bow shot, put one right into her middle."

Terry was standing beside her and she bumped him as she turned.

"Aah, Terry. Head below and ready the muskets. Hopefully we can board her and save those retches."

"But you're firing on her! Aren't you risking their death?"

"Get below, mister, and ready those muskets."

The earlier warmth and emotional demonstration clearly in the past. He spun on his heel and clambered back down through the hatch.