"Port Ambrosia"

Perfect.

With a flirtatious wink, Leah would follow her escorts back the Crosswind, announcing Stanton's hospitality, for now. He proved to be a popular figure, all of a sudden-and the drunken revelry that took place in the Black Snort would fuel stories and jokes for days to come.

...

(Thought about having her kiss him for kicks, but I think she was trying to spare him an incident, there being witnesses and all. So-epic ship battle now~?)
Five weeks later:
It was a bright, warm day in paradise. Waves lapped softly at the shores, crashing against the distant reef, gulls called over head, people shopped and bartered at the market stalls-another sunny day in Port Ambrosia.

Cept...the sounds of distant thunder. But how? There wasn't a cloud in the sky-there it was again! Cannon fire. The loud booms carried on the wind, and as the watchman lifted his spyglass, scanned the watery horizon-the source was easily found. Two ships were squaring off in the distance, one, the closer and larger of the two, flying the infamous jolly roger. The other raising, even as he watched-a black flag with a red, hoop earring'd skull. Leah's Crosswind!

What on earth was going on out there?
..........

"These dogs don't know who they're fucking with-" Leah growled, storming across the deck of her pitching vessal, ducking a round of chain shot the other pirates blasted them with. Men screamed as they were taken overboard, others scrambled to their feet, readying the return volley. Leah helped a man up bodily, slapping her hand on his back to get him moving as Brian shoved the cannon against the ship's side.

He rejoined her just as she ordered her own flag raised. "We're lucky to have caught up to them at all." He commented, climbing the stairs to the wheel of the ship as the aging Norman handed her his spyglass. "If it hadn't been for the tip, we wouldn't have." Leah commented.

"Let's just hope Stanton doesn't get his panties in a twist to see us out here." Brian grumbled as he squinted towards the distant isle.

Leah lowered the glass, turning to frown at him. Her first mate elaborated. "Well, pirates are pirates to 'em, ain't they? For all he knows, we've come back to attack."

Great. She hadn't thought of that.

"One thing at a time. REIN IN THE SAILS! BRING UP THE PITCH!" She blared to the chaotic scene of men across her deck, lifting her spyglass to find Captain Fredrick spying right back. He made an obscene gesture, and Leah cursed. "ALL WE'VE GOT, YOU SCALYWAGS, WHEN I COMMAND IT!"

She took the control of the helm herself, spinning the wheel to avoid the worst of the cannon fire being lobbed at them, before her sales were were drawn up, replaced with storm jibs. Her ship was smaller, faster-but not nearly as armed as the frigate she faced.

Blast it all-they'd overrun Ambrosia by nightfall.

"Captain-" Came Brian's warning, just as the ship turned, creaking in the waves. "Captain, to the west!"

Leah snapped her head up, and when she saw them-a second ship, larger even than the one Fredrick helmed sailing with full sails into battle-her mouth went dry. "That's Jack's ship." Leah said stupidly, her jaw slack, those red lips agape. "That's-"

"He's betrayed us!" Brian raged, and everything, suddenly, just got a whole lot grimmer.

"SIX OF YOU, SWITCH SIDES, SWITCH SIDES!" Leah screamed to the men manning the cannons, adrenaline forcing her into overdrive, handing the wheel off to her first mate. "We'll need more fire power. We'll need-" A whole nother ship! Widened eyes flew to the Nightengale, Frederick's ship. The hull was damaged and she was taking on some water, but otherwise...

"Brian. We're going to light up the Nightengale-" Leah said slowly, heatedly. It was crazy, but it'd have to work.

"Get us close enough to the board-"
"Captain?"
"Me and fifteen others-"
"Leah, that's suicide." Brian's voice softened, a look of concern. Leah rolled her eyes, patting the side of his scarred face in a condescending manner of comfort. "Don't puss out on me now, lad."

And with that-she leapt down to deck, rallying a quick twelve to her side as others fired upon the approaching Zeus, that rat Jack clearly having been in with Fredrick the whole time-or recently bought by him.

"We're taking the wheel by force." She said to her small group of brave, hardy men, her voice raised over the ruckus. "Fredrick wanted to be up Jack's ass so badly, least we can do to help him out." A murmur of laughter and agreement as she went over the plan, the Crosswind cutting into position.

Smash! The two ships were against each other, men spilling on, cut down-and Leah's little envoy leaping across just as Brian seperated them, shouting for a cease fire on the Nightengale while their captain was aboard it.

Leah drew slashed, stabbed, and skewered her way through the rabble, her and her rag tag group reaching the stairs, holding them-as she climbed them three at a time, her long legs carrying her the distance to Frederick and his silly little -sabre-.

"Why -hello-, lovely bitch! Come to accept my offer?"
"Fuck you, ya bastard-" She growled as he charged her, Leah sidestepping to slash the back of his leg.

What he had in size and strength Leah trumped with speed and youth, her skill with her sword easily overpowering him. When she stabbed through his heart and saw his shocked expression, she felt a twinge of satisfaction. Little time to gloat however-she quickly took the wheel, panicked sailors attempting to fight through the men posted at the stairs, a few climbing over the railing, knocked aside with her sword pommel-but with their captain so publically cut down, morale just wasn't there.

Turning the ship, setting the crash course for the lumbering, heavy Zeus, Leah damn near lost her head to a charging pirate before she tripped him, sending him over the edge.

Men jumped overboard, thinking to risk their chances in the open sea-as her own ship peeled out, sails unfurled-she caught Brian's wave-and would have sworn she heard him give the order to- "LIGHT HER UP!"

Flaming balls of pitch fired across the sky, crashing through the deck and into the gunpowder stores, exploding with a vengence. The few loyal cannon men still aboard fired out into nothing as the ship rocked-Leah giving the order to abandon ship to her surviving crew mates as she stared down the rapidly approaching Zeus.

"Eat this." She turned and climbed onto the railing as another explosion rocked the boat-the floorboards behind her blasting upwards in all directions, sending Leah into an awkward, less than graceful dive into the sea, her side on fire. The crash of the Nightengale into the Zeus was deafening-tearing open the mighty ship and crippling her, though the blood thirsty pirates aboard were still a threat. It might take some reinforcements of Henry's to finish the job before they could man their cutters and spill ashore.

Pirates swam, drowned, and were taken at swordpoint (the few that made the swim) and would no doubt be promptly arrested, all of them from the doomed Nightengale, and a small handful from Leah's own ship.

The Crosswind's firstmate anxiously, if left unmolested, sailed back and forth searching for his captain-but she was nowhere to be seen. The swim was long-and he feared her lost beneath the waves with the sunken Nightengale, sailing into port as sunset approached-refusing to leave without his captain.
.......

Leah surfaced in a fit of coughs after what had been the longest, most painful swim of her life, one arm thrown about the rock she had collided bodily with, the other still tightly gripping her sword. She was a mess, sopping wet and smelling of seawater, the leather cincher about her waist torn and damaged, her soaked shirt beginning to stain darkly on that side. The knife she kept in the thigh of her right boot was missing, the sheath sticking up oddly as she stumbled through the waist high water, flipping the mop of dark red hair back before collasping to her knees once on shore, never so happy to see land in her life. Fighting to catch her breath, she numbly assessed the situation. Well. All according to plan, right? She was on the east side of the island, out of sight from port-but visible from the road, men and women in their finery heading home, some stopping to stare, a lady's scream-

Leah came to her feet, shaking the water from her eyes as a soldier approached, his sword drawn. "Come on then." Leah goaded, wielding her own as her feet took up their positions, her free arm lifting slightly above her head in a classic fencing stance. "Come on, meet your death." She growled, edging around him, prepared to fight to the death, all pirate and no manners.

"I'll make your wife a widow-" She hissed when he hung back, uncertainly looking from her to the gathered, distant crowd. "You don't stand a cha-" The pain in her side stopped her with a slight, feminine sound of pain, Leah's free hand touching at the growing crimson stain, the tear in her side where a wooden plank had ripped through her. Not lethal. No-but bloodloss...no wonder she felt so drunk. And the sea water was stinging like a biiiitch.

"Oh. I take that back then-" She mumbled absently, politely-lowering her sword with the slightest of curves to her lips. "You stand every chance." And without further ado-passing out then and there in the sand.

Henry Stanton walked quickly through the Fortress, followed by Lawrence, the Lieutenant, and a smallish man in a flamboyant uniform of a Spanish Court diplomat.

"If the ship is not here," the Spaniard was saying in heavily accented English, "then where exactly is it?"

"How would I know that, Ambassador?" Henry responded in an annoyed tone. "Please correct me if I am wrong, but ... it's a Spanish boat ... crossing the ocean under Spanish orders ... months ahead of the agreed upon time for its arrival. If I had known the Princess was going to come early, I would have asked the Royal Navy to provide escort for--"

"The Spanish Navy does not need an English escort to protect it!" the diplomat almost spat back.

Henry stopped quickly, with Lawrence side stepping to prevent a collision and the Spaniard skidding to a stop just inches before hitting Henry. Henry stepped closer, saying, "Then if the Spanish do not need the English to protect their ship ... where the hell is their ship?"

A pair of doors burst open and a soldier rushed forward to whisper to the Lieutenant, who immediately turned and announced to Henry, "M'lord, pirates are approaching the bay."



From the Lookout Tower of the Fortress, Henry watched the battle unfolding just four miles out from the harbor entrance. Without lowering the spyglass, he asked, "Lieutenant! What the hell is going on?"

The Lieutenant gestured toward the soldier who'd come to them earlier, and the man quickly explained, "The frigate we believe to be the Nightingale, m'lord, the flag ship of the pirate known as Frederick. The smaller one we think is the Crosswind ... commanded by--"

"Leah," Henry whispered to himself. He hadn't seen her in over a month, much to his disappointment. He'd kept himself busy with the continuing transfer of power from the Spanish to the British, as well as with the pleasures provided by the local female cuisine; but he hadn't been able to get the redheaded pirate out of his mind. He called out, "Status of our forces!"

The Lieutenant stepped up, announcing, "The frigate Lexington and the schooner Orleans are setting sail now, m'lord, but the wind is against them, and they may not even make it out of the harbor before the battle ends."

"Troops?"

A second soldier stepped up, wearing the insignia of the Royal Marines. "The batteries are being manned now, m'lord, and six squads, as well as the mounted messengers, are dispersing about the island."

Henry finally lowering the spyglass to stare at the Lieutenant."If these ships reach the shore..."

During Leah's absence, there had been significant changes in Port Ambrosia. The massive force that Henry had brought with him to the archipelago to ensure a peaceful transfer of power from the Spanish had, for the most part, departed. He had only the Lexington, the Orleans, and a pair of fast but lightly armed sloops primarily designed for boarding and inspecting commercial vessels; and on the ground, he had fewer than 200 troops, and some of them were raw and untested against any type of force, let along vicious, blood thirsty pirates.

"Third ship, m'lord!" a lookout called.

Henry lifted the spyglass again, calling out for directions. He eventually found the third boat and asked about it, but none of the soldiers seemed to know who commanded it or which side it would be in in the battle. It didn't take long, however, to see the ship was not on the side of the Crosswind.

From the shore, it was difficult to see exactly what was happening out there. A light fog was beginning to creep in from the sea, and the fog of battle -- from both the cannons and, apparently, a now burning ship -- was wafting over the waves between the battle and Port Ambrosia.

"I need to get out there," Henry said. As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how absurd the statement was. He didn't do well on the water to begin with; and he wasn't a sea commander and, therefore, would only be in the way of the captains now moving their boats out from the harbor. So, why get out there...? The answer was simple: Leah. It had taken him all of two seconds to discover lust for the woman, and only an hour more, over dinner and wine, to discover infatuation for her as well.

"Sir, we need you here to direct your forces," Lawrence said with his tone of diplomacy. "The ships, the ground troops ... the people of Port--"

Henry waved him off, knowing that the man was both correct and trying to protect himself from himself. "Yes, yes ... of course."

He turned to the various military men assembled and barked orders. As the men dispersed, a lookout called again, drawing Henry's attention to the sea ... just as the gunpowder magazine of one of the ship's exploded, sending a fiery ball of flame into the sky, followed by a blackening smoke that slowly engulfed the other two ships...



"You stand every chance," the woman with the sword said, falling to her knees, then face, unconscious.

The soldier before her was met quickly by two others, their gazes shifting between the woman and themselves. One of the asked, "Is that her?"

"Must be," another said.



Henry was at her bedside when Leah first opened her eyes. He gestured the doctor out of the room, wanting to be with her alone. When her eyes seemed to clear and her gaze set upon his face, he smiled -- pleased -- and said softly, "You could have just sailed into the harbor. You didn't need to put on a fireworks display."

He reached to the blankets and pulled them further up her otherwise bare chest. The doctor and nurse had tended to her wounds, bandaging and rebandaging her over the past three days. He'd entered the room once while they worked and got a moment's glance at her naked upper torso; she was beautiful, even with her bruises and body wraps. He'd felt a twinge of guilt, thinking about being with her even as the doctor was undecided about whether she would live or not.

Now, Henry only wanted to be by her side...

Leah's green flecked eyes fluttered, closed tightly against the light with a slight grimace, exhaling. Muscles she hadn't known to exist ached, the battle, the swim, the explosion all having taken their toll, and as her conscious mind shook itself out of her sleep she opened her eyes, blearily trying to process just where on earth she had ended up.

Zeus, the pirates-Leah had the gut reaction to reach for her sword, the reaching motion (right hand to left hip) paused midway when Henry came into focus, smiled at her. He reached to adjust the blanket and Leah realized she wasn't wearing a shirt, had been tended to-her right hand instead gripping cloth, a slow, confused look around the room.

What had he said? Fireworks?

"Yeah, well-I like to make an entrance." She said weakly, sitting up from the pillows to rub her forehead with her free hand, dark red hair tumbling down her bare, bandaged back.

She had a pretty neckline, collar bone slightly defined on either side of the hollow of her throat, the curve of her breasts an artist's dream. His smile was comforting, an assurance that, in the very least-his island was not under siege. "Henry, the other ship...Zeus-" She vaguely remembered setting a crash course, the heat of the explosion-the -swim-. Had the ploy worked?

As Leah sat up, the blanket fell downward to her belly, exposing her young, firm breasts. Henry's gaze fell to them instinctively; Nobleman was a word full of contradiction, for he was too much man not to look, and not enough noble to feel guilty about it.

He did lift his eyes to meet hers, though, as she asked, "Henry, the other ship...Zeus-"

He urged her back to the mattress, acting the gentleman by pulling the blanket to cover her breasts just a bit beyond their cool air hardened nipples. "The Nightingale is gone. You might recall blowing her to smithereens, yes? The Zeus...? Well, that's a bit of a problem ... for both of us, I am afraid."

He stood and crossed to a pitcher of water, pouring a glass and bringing it back to her. He sat and continued, "The Zeus was afire, with men jumping overboard. One of my less experienced officers was gathering men from the water, uncertain about who was who, and allowed his schooner, the Orleans, to be taken. It fired from close range on the Lexington, damaging her tiller ... making chase impossible. A couple of dozen men ... pirates ... were scooped from the sea, and the lot of them escaped to parts unknown. I have dispatched the sloops to the other islands to look for the ship, but so far no word."

He could see in her eyes that this news distressed her as much as it did him, but he wasn't exactly sure why. He had no knowledge of the traitorous Jack, and none of the pirates pulled from the swells had been willing to say anything about anyone so far.

"Your man Brian," he continued, reaching out to pull a strand of wayward red from her eyes, "We rescued some of his ... yours, I mean ... your men from the sea, and he has vouched for and reclaimed them. The Crosswind is at the dock, undergoing repairs and resupply."

Full and firm, they were tipped in rosy buds, the skin soft and pale in comparison to the light tan of her arms and face. The curve of her bosom matched that of her hips, a symmetrical, even hourglass shape.

Back against the pillows, Henry kind enough to adjust the blanket a ghost of a graceful smile curving her lips, her graceful fingers curling around it, ensuring it stayed in place this time. If she was appalled he had gotten a look, she didn't seem like it-but nor was she her usual, crass and flirty self either.

Her other hand accepted the glass of water, taking a long sip-watching him over the lip of it as he spoke-slowly lowering it with a frown-brow creasing. Not good news, and her troubled gaze shifted to the glass of water, swirling it lightly as she took it in. A stolen sloop...

Her eyes shifted back when he spoke of her firstmate, her shoulders relaxing with relief. The Crosswind would sail another day, her men would live to fight. And, more importantly-a means to find the traitorous Jack and put him down.

"I'm sorry." She held the glass against her chest, pinning the blanket there as she propped up on her elbow, in the very least-wanting to be out there, wanting to be on her feet, wanting to hunt this wayward sloop down. "I caught wind of Frederick's plot and changed course to intercept him, keep my end of the deal-but I had no idea Jack had thrown his lot in with him, the bastard." Her hazel, green flecked eyes flared with anger, and given just how she had dealt with the Nightengale-one might worry for this Jack.

"He's the captain of the Zeus-he -was- an ally, but I suppose his greed got the better of him. I..." Her jaw set defiantly, a bitterly disappointed expression on her face, disgusted with herself. "I had hoped to ruin him when I sailed the Nightengale into his ship. I didn't know what the hell else to do-I couldn't outgun him." She set the water on the bedside table, running a hand through her hair, eyes shifting to him again, a slight frown on her lips. "I'll track him down, return your sloop. Hell, you can have him-whatever's left, once I get my hands on him." She growled.

Henry chuckled at her suggestion of returning to the fight, then pulled the blankets up up chest again, not because he needed to but because he wanted an excuse to study her form again. "You're not going anywhere for a while, Leah. The doctor says you must stay indoors and clean to avoid ... what did he call it--"

"Infection," a female voice said from the door. Henry turned as one of the French nuns from the tiny convent entered, shooing him from the bed. "Your wounds must remain clean ... your stitches must remain closed. If not, you will die. You are not going anywhere, young lady."

Henry looked to Leah and smirked at the strict woman's demands. He shrugged, and -- with a bit of pleasure -- said, "Looks like you'll be here for a while."

The Lieutenant tapped at the door and asked for his lord's attention. Softly -- unfortunately not low enough to prevent the pirate from hearing -- he reported, "We have found the Orleans, m'lord. She is at North Isle. As the only other deep water port, we checked it that first day and found it empty, but--"

"They returned to it after we'd left," Henry completed the man's thought, getting a nod of acknowledgement. When the Lieutenant asked for his orders, Henry hesitated, then said, "As soon as the last of the sloops has returned, I want them resupplied for battle and the Marines prepped and ready for a landing."

He glanced back to Leah and, to his dismay, realized that she'd likely heard every word. He considered his orders, then told the Lieutenant to wait. He returned to sit on the edge of Leah's bed, stared at her for a moment, then asked, "How good is this man of yours, Brian ... and your pirate crew. And more importantly ... would they sail under orders from me...?"

Leah frowned, then looked slightly incredulous to be told what to do-to be called young lady. "Now just a minute-" Leah protested to the Nun. "I can kill a man without tearing god damned-" At the Nun's gasp, Leah changed her language. "...stitches. And nothing cleaner than fresh air-" "The chance for infection is too great, you will stay!" "Bloody hell, what are you, my mother?"

But the argument was cut short when she realized just what was being discussed at the door-Leah waving the strict nun aside as she attempted to check a pulse (I have no idea if they did that back then). North Isle. Well.

"I've trained half of them myself-but they're not keen on taking orders from the law." She answered, taking hold of his arm. "Henry, I've got a reputation to defend-everyone knows this is where I dock. If I don't get down there and bite back..." Her voice drifted off, that defiant, pirate captain look to her again. "I'm not going to be seen as -weak-." She finished firmly, a scowl.

"I'm not going to be seen as -weak-."

"You won't be," he said, then with a sly smile, added, "Because ... no one knows you're alive."

He studied her expression for a moment, then added, "We haven't told your men that you're here. The soldiers who found you weren't sure what to do ... they had expected to find invading pirates, not--" Henry's gaze dropped for a moment to Leah's body, as if emphasizing the words beautiful female pirate. "They brought you here incognito, and ... well, I didn't tell your man Brian when I offered him the services of the repair facilities. I ... I only said that you and I had come to an agreement about your portage here, and that as such, I felt obligated to help him as it appeared he saved Port Ambrosia from invasion."

Leah blinked, unsure just how to take such information. Seemed omnious.

Real omnious.

"So instead of being seen as weak, I'm just dead?" She didn't seem very happy about it, frowning. "And just how long do you think I want to keep my crew in the dark? Someone bring me a shirt-" Brian could captain the vessel, but for how long? What on earth had been the point of Henry's deception?

Brian was a good man, but Jack's recent betrayal was heavy on her mind. If she reappeared after he had settled into being the Crosswind's new captain instead of just a temporary fill in-would he surrender her ship? ...yes, of course he would.

Still, she would not have liked to be left wondering, worrying about -him-. "Pirates -do- give a damn about their friends, Henry-"
(Short post, apologies!)

"I'm sure they do give a damn," Henry responded, reaching out to gently hold Leah back to the mattress. She was a strong woman, he knew that, but even strong women succumbed to injuries such as those she had sustained. "And that's exactly why no one ...particularly you crew ...knows you're here. How would Brian have reacted to learning you'd died while in my care...?"

Leah supposed he had a point, even as she resisted his motion to press her back into the pillows-. Considering the distrust and mild paranoia of her first mate, probably not well.

"Well I didn't. And I'll be damned if-" She wasn't getting anywhere fighting with Henry, she realized-relaxing against the mattress with a huff instead of fighting his hand, she took the minute to rest as she reconsidered her tactics. Every minute spent dawdling was another minute Jack could be escaping-and loathe as she was to admit it, the simple act of sitting up made her dizzy.

She was not in fighting condition. But that hadn't stopped her before.

"Hell. At least tell him I said hi-Brian will want a slice of Jack by the time this is through, just tell him where he is. And he'd better not sink my ship." She said, appearing to reluctantly give up.

"I will do better than that, Captain", Henry said. He stood and crossed the room to her washed but torn clothes. He stripped away her unique belt and returned to sit beside her again, demonstrating the belt as if it were a King's signant ring. "I will take this to Brian tonight, as proof of you being here ...and you will write him a letter--" He continued with a polite, not sarcastic tone, "...I'm presuming your First Mate is literate ...that tells him you are well and, if he wishes, he may come to the Fortress tomorrow at dawn ...armed even, to see for himself."

Henry stood and crossed to the open door, calling the Nun in and instructing her softly to attend to Leah's needs. He turned back to the pirate and asked, "Acceptable...?"

The waist cincher was ruined. Fashionista she was not, but still-the tear in it made her want to inspect her side sans the bandages.

"...deal. Paper?"

And, given ink and parchment, Leah would scratch out a quick note to her first mate:

"Brian-
Went for a long swim, surfaced wounded. Laid up temporarily. Be a dear and send Jack my regards, will you?- Captain Leah" Her handwriting was spidery and surprisingly delicate-yet boldly spilled across the page in the short, simple message.

She didn't write anything more, for the time being.

Henry walked back to the bed, reaching to take the paper -- and with his other hand, taking Leah's, leaning down, and kissing the back of it. He returned to height without a word, snatched up the belt, and turned back to the nurse, saying "Treat her well."

The Nun acknowledged his request and returned to Leah's bed to check the bandages. With his hands filled of that which he hoped would reassure Brian, he excused himself, saying "I'll go see your man after sundown ... when there are fewer eyes on the street."

He left the two women alone and went to the tower, to look down upon Port Ambrosia. It was quiet in the town, or that was his perception from here on high. He could see the Crosswind, sitting in the repair docks. He signalled for the Lookout's spyglass, and looked down upon the ship. Pirates and shipyard men alike hussled about the deck; others were high in the masts repairing riggings and sails, while others were over the side repairing holes.

Henry knew that Brian was going no where tonight, nor tomorrow; it might be days before the Crosswind could even think about heading to sea, and it would be days after that before she could be one hundred percent in battle. Of course, pirates were a different breed of sailor; for all Henry knew, Brian could toss away the lines right now, head for North Isle, and annihilate this ... Jack and his pirate crew.

"...he's an odd one." What was more, he trusted her not to roll the nurse? Leah's eyes shifted to the woman, then the daylight filtering through the window. Beating up a nun would earn her a faster ticket to hell and would hardly be a challenge-so she contented herself with dutifully mumbling the prayers the nurse insisted upon.

She really hated nuns.

-----------------
The sun went down, and just as Leah resolved to slip out of bed-the nun returned, forcing her to fake sleep quickly. Some bustling, a check of her temperature-and then the woman quietly snuck out of the room.

One hazel, green flecked eye popped open-and confirming she was alone, Leah sat up, grimacing at the dull ache in her side as she slipped from the bed, taking the sheet with her as she looked out the window, trying to see what side of the island she was facing.

Wrapped up in the sheet she made for an alluring, sensual figure, even as she simply moved across the room for her clothing, took it, and her boots, to the chair by the mirror, resting against the arm as she dropped the sheet, pulled on her black pants, her thigh high boots. Fingers brush over the bandages wrapped around her middle, frowning as, tentatively-they slid slowly over the raised stitches on her right side. Perhaps this was not a good idea at all, but Leah refused to let that scoundrel Jack be handled by others-he was as much her problem as theirs, and she wanted to deal with him -personally-.

Lifting up her red shirt she paused, turning the torn garment-realizing she could not wear it out, not unless she wanted to give everyone a view of her injured side. And a corset, where on earth had her corset gone?

She turned, saw the wardrobe-and helped herself to a white linen shirt that was too large for her. Her red hair she tied back into a simple bun at the nape of her neck-before she began to knot the sheet she had discarded.

Henry would be on his way to see Brian, and she would slip on deck just after he left, she decided. She peered out the window to see a lower level of the fortress, men patrolling at each end buuuuut she was sure she could slip past them using the greenery, get to the wooden door at the far end successfully.

Of course, where it led and just how she was going to get out of the fortress itself was a question Leah could not yet answer. With a sigh and a last glance at the comfortable bed, Leah swung her long legs over the sill and began the long descent. Her upper arms burned more than they should-she had spent a lifetime climbing rigging, after all-and by the time she was able to drop the last few feet, Leah was out of breath and trembling with fatigue.

Perhaps Henry was wise to insist on bedrest. After a moment's rest behind a statue, she made her way around the watch and through the door.

The nun returned an hour later to find the rope trailing out the window-and alerted the guards at once! A search of the grounds, the rooms, the stairwells-but no female pirate to be found! Had she escaped?!
..............

No, she hadn't. Slumped in a defeated fashion in one of Henry's fancy chairs, Leah stared into the fire as it burned, an entire bottle of alcohol in her right hand, the cork missing.

Last place anyone would look for a pirate was the library/study, and sure enough-after getting terribly lost, Leah had been forced to give up. Dying in battle would suit her, but not when she was this damned tired.

"An attack here, from the west" the officer explained, tapping a finger to tbe map of North Isle spread out upon a table in the foyer of Henry's bedroom, "will go go unseen from the island. There are no accessible look out points--"

"But..." the Lieutenant cut in, "it will take us through these shoals--"

Henry slammed his empty flagon down on the table, startling both men. He looked between them and said calmly, "I have to present a battle plan to this ...this Brian ...that will make him think we know what we're doing. You are officers in His Majesty's Royal Navy."

"These are uncharted waters for us, m'lord," the officer explained meekly. "And the Spanish are well known for leaving behind inaccurate maps when they lose territories, making it dangerous for--"

"Stop telling me what you can't do ...and tell me what you can do. For an hour--"

A soldier suddenly burst through the door, announcing, "M'lord ...the pirate ...she's gone."




The search took far longer than it should have as Henry order most of the available troops to the perimeter after the Lieutenant voiced his fear that Leah's capture had all been part of a ploy to take the Fortress. Henry didn't believe that, of course -- he'd seen how close to death she'd come -- but he beginning to lose the confidence of his senior military officer, and for now felt it better to simply go along with the man's paranoia.

The soldier gestured into the Study, saying, "She's asleep, m'lord."

"Please inform the Lieutenant," Henry said quietly, "that the dreaded pirate attack is on hold--" Henry hesitated as the soldier giggled, then smiled broadly himself. "And have the doctor awoken and taken to Leah's ...the Captain's room ...just in case she needs care."

The soldier peeked in past Henry, then looked back to his Governor. "She's very..."

The soldier was looking for the right word, the one that would compliment Leah's beauty, respect her position as a ship's captain, and not offend his lord, for whom the rumor mill claimed the Governor had a thing.

"Yes, she is," Henry finished for him, sending him on his way.

He knelt down before Leah, pulling the blanket down a bit to look at her wound. He smiled, realizing she was wearing one of his shirts, then unfastened the two lowest buttons to get a look at her bandage. It was intact and showing only a bit of blood; the stitches apparently had held.

Leah flinched, awaking with a start and meeting Henry's eyes. He smiled up at her as he pulled the blanket back up to her waist. He would have preferred to be pulling it off of her ...or joining her below it. But she wasn't up to the kind of activity he yearned with her.

Henry considered what to say, from simple greetings to chastisings for leaving her bed. Ultimately, he admitted, "I don't believe my naval commanders have the local knowledge to take on this Jack of yours. I would like to negotiate ... let's call it a union of forces." And knowing why she was here in the Study and not upstairs in a soft, warm bed, he added, "And you shall lead the assault, Captain."

"But..." He stood and leaned in, slipping his arms carefully under her legs and behind her back. "Right now ...you're going to bed."

(D'awwwww he is my favorite forever!)

Startled as such, the deft fingers of Leah's left hand wrapped around his wrist as her eyes opened to register him, her green flecked hazel eyes almost amber in the firelight. "Brave man, undressing a pirate." She teased in a quiet, sleep filled tone-holding his wrist just a moment before she slipped her fingers from it, rubbed her forehead-and oh so subtly set the bottle down beside the chair.

Property rights were going to have to be something they disagreed on, it seemed.

"Oh?" Leah sat up a little straighter, amusement flickering through her eyes. "So glad you could see it my way, Governor-I was just on my way to the docks before I thought a drink might be nice..."

He slipped an arm beneath the knees of those tall boots, a second against the lightly toned muscles of her back-and picked her up out of the chair, her rapier dangling off her hip, the pirate captain's warmth radiating through her stolen shirt, her head resting against his chest. "And then I'll carry you to -your- bed, just so it's all fair and equal...if I could even -find- it. You live in a maze, Henry, did you notice?"

"I got lost a few times myself, Leah," he agreed, switching back to her given name, which seemed more appropriate with her in his arms this way. She was a tad bit heavier than he expected -- forgetting the sword, scabbard, heavy boots, and all -- but carrying her out of the study via a back set of stairs hidden behind a massive tapestry was easy for the fit man. He caught the expression on her face as he took the less conspicuous route and explained, "I doubt you want my men seeing you like this ...Captain."

He reached the first landing -- off which was the hall that eventually led to her room -- and hesitated, contemplating. He turned and ascended to the second landing, pushing open another secret door ...and emerging into a massive, elegantly decorated suite. To one side were floor to ceiling French doors, beyond which the full moon lit the bay and near sea; to the other was a massive fire place with a fierce fire crackling within it; in the middle was the massive table upon which Henry and his men had been discussing the upcoming battle; all about the room were little seating areas and book cases and candelabras and all the other luxuries of a Governor's life ...and beyond all of it, up against the far wall, was a massive canopied bed.

Henry scanned the interior, then looked to Leah and said, "I think you will be more comfortable here, Leah. Unless you are fearful of the impression it may result in..."

"...I was more thinking it'd have made an easier trip than climbing out the window." Leah mentioned, head tipping back slightly to frown at him in the dim light as he clambered another set of stairs. Two levels up instead of one?

And then they were in a grand room that could only be his. Leah arched a brow, shifting to be put down, a hand to his chest. "Perish the thought of being deemed unladylike." Leah began sarcastically before smiling a tired, wicked smile. "Yours is the only reputation to be sullied here, Henry-and is it really wise, being so unattended with a blood thirsty -pirate-?"

And if he had set her down she would move towards the table, an analytical eye to the drawings and maps of the sea. "...hm." And she'd snag the piece of charcoal, lightly sketching out a coral reef about one island, a rocky, shallow outcropping-filling in for hm, the obstacles beneath the waves.

She even added a small cove on one of the smaller islands, listing the approximate depth and length of the cave. "I used to hide treasure here. Took a shore party since it's too small for a ship-but it was a good place, for a time."

Her colorful eyes moved across the parchment and cloth, determining just how to handle the traitorous Jack. It was good distraction, something to make her feel a little more like herself-though Jack's betrayal still disturbed her.

Leah was tenacious, willful-but she still had to operate within certain social laws and boundaries, her "government" the anarchy of her fellow pirates. Jack was well respected and widely admired-for him to forge an alliance with Frederick against her did not bode well for the thoughts and opinions of her contemporaries. She felt a noose tightening around her throat. To be seen as weak was to BE weak. If rumors circulated that she had lost her edge, that her ports and territories were ripe for the taking without consequence-well, she may as well hang her hat, as every two bit thug would be after her blood. Only a quick and decisive blow would end speculation, keep her "friends" her friends and their knives in their sheaths.

She did not fancy finding them in her back.

Her contemplative, distant expression spoke of her heavy thoughts as her eyes returned to him.

"Yours is the only reputation to be sullied here, Henry," she told him, "and is it really wise, being so unattended with a blood thirsty pirate?"

He chuckled at her self description. Blood thirsty. He let Leah slide to the floor and watched her wander into the room. He had expected her to settle down in one of the cushy chairs; and he'd fantasized that she'd get comfortable in his bed. When she moved to the table and began updating the Spanish maps, he was surprised ... and pleased.

He circled the table slowly, his gaze shifting between her scribblings with the charcoal ... and her womanly shape. The oversized shirt hung loose on her, giving him a view of the cleavage of her firm, youthful breasts beyond the shirt's lapels.

"I used to hide treasure here," she said, adding what looked like a small cove to one of the smaller islands. "Took a shore party since it's too small for a ship-but it was a good place, for a time."

He continued his slow, circular pace about the table, and when at last she set her eyes upon him for a long moment, he'd decided it was time to be bold ... in matters of state ... and matters of the heart.

"This ... Jack," he said, speaking with a contemptuous tone that would have made you think he'd spent years battling the pirate himself. "He must be dealt with ... brutally... in a way that, to be honest ... my troops are not up for. My ships are crewed by men who are or were Royal Navy. They are skilled ... but not ruthless."

His walk had taken him behind her once again, and his eyes fell to the curved shape of her buttocks, and again the fantasy of Leah over a cannon barrel came to him, causing him to begin growing down below. He smiled to himself and continued.

"I need your help. I need to defeat this pirate ... and any others who may now or in the future present a threat to Port Ambrosia."

He wasn't sure whether he should explain the details of his plight yet. Henry may have had the help of the Crown and the Royal Navy in regaining the archipelago for the Stanton Family, but he was on his own now. Most of the Royal Navy ships had left already, leaving only the Lexington and the Orleans, the latter of which was, of course, in the hands of the pirate Jack. Other than the two actual war ships, Henry only had the half dozen sloops and ketches; they were perfect for chasing pirates due to their speed and shallow drafts, but the most armored of them had only two guns, two swivel guns, and the hand weapons carried by the troops that boarded them.

And troops, of course, were another issue. The majority of the troops now protecting Port Ambrosia -- some British Marines, others Indian Conscripts -- would soon be departing for South Africa and, ultimately, Bombay. Henry only commanded forty trained soldiers, about a third of what he needed just to defend Port Ambrosia. The populace, of course, would provide more men should their community ever been invaded, but as far as offensive strikes went, Henry would soon be unable to mount much more than a small raid.

"And I think you need my help, too," Henry continued, still moving slowly about the table, his eyes now fixed upon her own. "You said it yourself ... you need a safe port out of which to operate. A place to resupply and repair your ship ... a place for your men to rest and--" He allowed her to see him ogle her front side as he finished, "--recreate. A place to spend your money..." He raised an eyebrow knowingly. "...and a place for your to turn your ... booty ... into spendable gold."

Henry had known virtually nothing about pirates upon arriving in Port Ambrosia, but the last five weeks had been quite an education. His interest in Leah -- as a potential business partner and bed partner both -- had resulted in hundreds of conversations with the locals. And the one story that had come up again and again was that of how the local pirates were always coming in with pillaged goods that needed to be turned into coin, from Persian rugs to Oriental silk to European silver sets to African ivory.

His movement brought him to Leah's side of the table, but this time, instead of continuing around her, he moved directly at her, stopping just inches from her. "I think we would be good together, Leah. Together as warriors ... together as business partners ... together as..."

He again allowed his eyes to drop lower, and he reached up to playfully adjust the lapel of his shirt. His meaning was obvious...

Her eyes followed him as he circled, a slight, knowing smile on her lips. So he finally understood the need for such an agreement, was coming around to her side of things. The deal, as far as Leah was concerned-had always been struck, -would- always be struck-because without her-Ambrosia was ripe for the taking.

And Leah, it just so happened, was a pirate who didn't -pillage- towns and ports, but used them to their full advantage-just as Henry understood. Leah valued life, she valued the simple folk trying to milk a living. She understood the worth a functional, economically sound port provided.

An alliance based out of equal need-but with Santiago, she had held all the power. There were other ports, after all, but there was only one Leah. And with Henry, there was no reason to be any different.

Or was there? He was not the pig Santiago was...

He reached to adjust the lapel to her stolen shirt and Leah's eyes narrowed slightly, a dangerous glitter to match the slight curve to her lips. Perhaps he was too bold. Perhaps he might wish for a guard, about now.

"Do you know what it is, to be a woman with power?" She asked him with a slight tilt of her head, that red hair shimmering with reflected firelight. Her interesting eyes seemed amber, those little flecks of green exotic. She released the charcoal to press her hand to his chest, smooth it upwards towards his shoulder, her eyes following the motion. "To stand on equal footing with men who would, given the chance-break you for daring to have an opinion? A brain in your head? A -voice-?"

She would kill Jack herself, throw him with a noose and a weight off the stern of her ship. Henry had no idea the burning fury she felt for that man. A man who could not have her, and so decided to destroy her. "For men to desire your subjugation...just because you rose above a woman's 'place'? Just because you are free?"

How deep the spite of men's souls. Leah leaned closer, her free hand lightly at his hip, her body against his intimately, the fingers on his shoulder moving to his neck, his face as she leaned closer to the opposite side, her lips at his ear.

"You are not the first to lust for me, Stanton. There are other ports. I need not convince you with feminine wiles." What seemed to be a sensual rejection turned erotic, however-when she nipped his ear.

"This I do for me."

And turning his head, Leah kissed him full on the lips in a searing motion that brook little argument.

The kiss was passionate -- warm, wet, eager -- and Henry was delighted that Leah had put her lips to him and not the dagger that, even in her half-dressed state, he feared she had hidden somewhere on her person. When their heads tilted and when their lips parted, Henry whispered to her, "A man with power gets lonely..." He met her lips for a brief moment, then added, "A woman does, too, yes...?"

He leaned down and, again, swept her up into his arms, adding care when he saw her grimace from the pain at her side. He started toward the bed, meeting her lips again...

Feared rightly-it was sheathed in the waistband of her pants behind her right hip. Normally she kept one in her boot too, but it had been lost at sea in her four mile swim to shore.

"You mean to say you don't have a line of pretty girls weekly?" She teased, dodging the question.

She did. Stormy, cold nights where her fickle lover threw her ship from wave to wave-she'd lie awake pondering the empty space beside her. But she didn't dare. Taking a lover would undermine her authority-even someone as loyal as Brian would be a problem, would lesson her in the eyes of her crew, her fellow pirates.

"How many do you know?" She breathed teasingly, the slightest of pained grimaces when he lifted her up, jostled her wounded side. He kissed her and Leah felt a thrill of dizzied excitement. When was the last time she had done this? When was the last time she had wanted to?

Sixteen? Seventeen?

Did any of that even count? She had been buying a place on a ship, she had sworn to get good with a sword so she wouldn't have to BE a notch in someone's bedpost.

She became the one deciding who stayed and went, who was useful and who wasn't. She was no longer a conquest, a pair of legs to be bedded-she was a fierce woman with a sword.

She wasn't going to be a notch in Stanton's bedpost-he was going to be one in -hers-.

"You mean to say you don't have a line of pretty girls weekly?" Leah teased. "How many do you know?"

He ignored the question, concentrating instead on using first one toe, then the other to shed his boots before moving onto the bed upon his knees. He moved slowly, deliberately, knowing that to hurt her physically wasn't going to help in the passion. Then again ... she might like the pain; she was a pirate, an industry that knew its share of pain and misery, he was sure, and not a job a woman went into without being ... unique.

Whether she was a rough lover or a kind one meant nothing to Henry. He would treat her gently and kindly and ... yes, lovingly. He wanted Leah, that was certain; but he wanted her as more than just a conquest. Five weeks without seeing her, and then only seeing her covered in blood had affected him. Consciously, he wouldn't have used the word love; he didn't know her enough for that sentiment. He thought it was simple lust -- lust for her beauty, lust for her position as Pirate Queen -- but subconsciously, it was more than that. It was infatuation, which was dangerous for a man of power and position. Kings had abandoned thrones or invaded whole countries over their infatuations with a woman.

Henry gently laid Leah back upon the bed, leaning in to press his hungry lips to hers ... and he began to slowly unbutton his shirt, enclosing her body...

Leah slipped her thumb beneath the leather cuff of her right boot, dragging it down past her knee, her calf before kicking if off along with the other one, the long boots dropping in a pile to the floor. He pushed her back, gentle-and Leah shifted slightly, the bun she'd pulled her hair into uncomfortable-so she pulled the tie from it, red hair tumbling to halo her head. Her long fingers snagged the knife behind her hip, tossing it not to the floor-but oddly, reaching over her head to slide it beneath a pillow before he kissed her.

Mm. He had her attention at once. Leah flicked her tongue across his lower lip, nipping it-her hands not nearly as patient as she tugged on his shirt, untucking it from his pants before she slipped her fingers up along the hem, undoing them all in a series of quick and talented twists. Her hands were against his chest, undershirt-whatever he happened to have on beneath the shirt, smoothing around to his muscled back.

She was watching him as he finished with the stolen shirt, the bandages wrapped around her narrow waist a little disconcerting-but her breasts full and firm above that, tipped in pink.