Dance on a rope-closed for Perplexia

[BRIGHTWELL]

It is another lazy day, on the beach, out side the rare tavern in the mouth of the rat. The day is warm not yet boiling hot. The beach a whitish grey still damp from the ebbing tide. Even for Andrew, there was a a point to not getting drunk on rum every night. Though few of his crew or friends would agree.

The thing is that he is waiting. Always the waiting. Waiting for this or for that, though this time he is wait for, word. Havana is about three day sail from the mouth of the rat.
It would take that long for word of the Spanish to get to him. How many ships? What was the cargo? Gold, gold and silver. Had the silver train reached the fleet? Did it have spices or monks.

The thought of monks made Andrew smile. They were such sweet sport. Not as much as a fair lady, or ever a tavern whore for that matter. But, a monk, yes there were those that found a monk more fun then a fine lady. Yes, the ship board games, relieves the pressure and boredom of ship board life.

So here Andrew stands on the white sandy beach waiting for...a word.

 

[Perplexia]

Duchess Elizabeth of the House of Lancaster. Had been sold to be the wife of Count Edwardo St. Cloud. Though barley a Duchess but only in name, she had been on holiday in Havana visiting a cousin whose husband owned a plantation, when the news arrived. Her father, a philanthropist and notorious gambler had accepted the highest offer off compensation for the hand of one of his many, yet most beautiful offspring. Normally it was a dowry the woman would bring to her husband. Yet some how he managed to sell his daughter like a prize mare.

She was to leave on the next boat out of Havana to Spain. The thought of leaving Havana didn't bother her much at all. The idea of going back home to her dreary life in England was actually where her mind was at. But instead she was off to Spain. There were no details in her fathers letter about her future husband. He could be old and full of age spots, or he could be a young dashing, arrogant, egotistical, brainless, brutish, womanizer as so many aristocrats were.

Eliza wished she could make the best out of the situation. Most girls would be thrilled to being married to a seemingly rich man, or even to a Count without the wealth. Title opened doors, even if it was mostly just to men. There was simply nothing to be done but obey her father. With that she purchased her passage on a Spanish ship that was also carrying gold, silver, and spices.

Being one of the more resilient ones, sea sickness wasn't a worry for her. It actually made her giggle when the ship would hit a wave and her stomach would plummet. The ocean air was refreshing, just as the drops of water were when they splashed up against her face under the watchful eye and heat of the sun.

Right now in this moment Elizabeth was free from worry and ails. The Captain had assigned one of his men to guard her in case one of his crew decided to try and sample her goods. For in reality, she was simply a piece of cargo that had to make it intact to its owners.

 

[BRIGHTWELL]

The small boat with a single sail glided smoothly into the tiny bay. Andrew walked over to the short rock jetty that stood out out into the water. The boat lowered it sail and glided in next to the rocks.

"Two ships,The Maria Santos Cortez and a merchant brig Connoba they have left for Spain they will be passing this way tomorrow. Andrew smiles.

"To hell with tomorrow, we attack tonight. Get the crew together the The Red Horsesails in six hours.