Dawn forced herself to turn away from the door to Charles' cabin. Part of her wanted to eaves drop upon the heated exchange between Olivia and Charles, she was sure would erupt immediately. Knowing Charles' wrath she turned away, confident that she would see the end result shortly. Confident too, that Charles would have the woman put into her place, guest, or no!
The deck was full of activity as the Raven was changing course, Fazul was at the forecastle, a glass raised to his eye, fixed upon something on the horizon. Dawn quietly stepped up the stairs and padded up behind the massive man. "Sultan's Girl," Fazul said warmly without turning around, "I see they have business, and have pressed you out, nay?"
"Aye, Fazul, they have indeed," Dawn said as she strained her eyes at the distant dark shape on the horizon. It would appear to be a ship, but from here, she could only guess. "What is that, Fazul? Are we about to attack another ship?" Dawn inquired. Fazul was the only one she dared speak so frankly to. The rest of Charles' thieves almost seemed to envy her, and Charles' personality did not lend well to answering her inquiries.
A meaty hand slowly passed her the glass, "That is a ship Sultan's Girl, wounded it is too; but as to whether we attack it or not remains to be seen." Dawn gently accepted the glass glancing up at the giant's profile as she did. His answer only left her more questions, but she felt that his answer was complete as he could make it, never the less.
Dawn clumsily lifted the glass to a gray-green eye. Distant waves became huge and detailed in an instant. Then the sky flashed to her brain from the round perception, surrounded by darkness that was her eye. Her head began to swim with her new sight. Suddenly a great powerful arm steadied her shoulders, catching her before she fell in her disoriented state. "Here, Sultan's Girl," Fazul said with a bemused smile, spread your legs, keep the deck under you." Dawn felt a giant hand pushing outward on her inner thigh; she inhaled with a bit of surprise. The touch of the eunuch had caught her completely off-guard. She was always wary of the hands and eyes of Charles' men. Though none had dared touch her, she felt the heat of lust from their long stares at every turn. She giggled to herself as he withdrew his hand. His touch had electrified her soul, and yet that was the only the caress of a friendly teacher. Dawn felt her cheeks gather a subtle glow, "Thank you, Fazul," she said with a smile.
Fazul gave her a nod of his massive head in response before helping her lift the glass to her eye. He took her tiny hands in his and maneuvered them to appropriate spots on the shaft of the glass. Then slowly he led her towards the ship on the horizon. Dawn focused slowly, Fazul's hands left hers, and she stood there, her stance that of a seasoned seaman. The slow movement under Fazul's guidance had kept her head for swimming, her feet spread even with her shoulders kept her balance above the waves. As her gray-green eye scanned a disheveled deck.
Rigging was swinging loose in spots, as if they were but massive clothes lines snapped in a sudden blow. A couple of the sails looked limp, and were torn in pieces. Beneath their frustrated flapping on the wind, she found two men in a circle of many. One had a cutlass raised high; he was shouting something beneath his thin mustache. The man to his left was shorter and stouter, with a ruddy complexion; he kept glancing anxiously at the loud man with the cutlass. The rest of the crew seemed to be whispering amongst themselves, awkwardly. Almost like what she had heard the court of parliament would look like, with the exception of setting and dress. She wondered what the thin mustached man was shouting about as she lowered the glass and offered it back to Fazul. "Why, aren't they repairing their ship, Fazul?" She asked naively.
"Sultan's Girl," Fazul said flatly, as he accepted the glass, "it would seem they are deciding upon a new captain." Dawn tossed her head, ridding her lashes of a wind tossed strand of crimson curl that had fluttered across a gray-green eye as she soaked in Fazul's dispensed knowledge. "The Witch," Fazul said as he raised the glass back to his eye, "it would seem, believes it has lost its mistress, and is choosing a new master. Allah, forbid that it fall to Pierre Duvall." Fazul shook his head and lowered the glass, snapping it to. Dawn's mind ran the name, Pierre Duvall, over in it. She imagined that it belonged to the thin mustached man, but did not ask Fazul to confirm her guess.
Charles' heavy footfalls on the forecastle steps as he leapt up them compelled both Dawn and Fazul to turn to face his approach. "Sultan," Fazul began as he stepped towards them, "I think that Cap..."
Charles cut him off short, "Change course, immediately, and make for Port Royale with all speed, Fazul." Charles cast an informed eye to the skies and snorted at the lack of wind he desired. Dawn caught a twinge of surprise in Fazul's eye as he hesitated a mere heartbeat before bowing. He stepped past Charles and gave the command to change course and put out all the linen. Dawn watched Charles closely. His face was a brew of lust and calculation. She had a feeling she had some part to play in whatever was bubbling behind those cold blue eyes. She lowered her gaze before he noticed her.
Fazul returned and broke Charles hold on the skies with his voice, "Sultan, the order is given," the Raven had already began to spin on the waves as the hands worked to bring Charles' will into reality. Charles nodded once in acknowledgement of the report. "Sultan, there is something I think you should hear in regards to the Witch."
Charles wheeled around and clapped both hands on both of Fazul's shoulders, "Yes, yes, Fazul," Charles grinned merrily, "I know all about it." Fazul fell silent and bowed. Charles smiled a wicked smile into Fazul's eyes before he clapped his friend on the shoulders again as he started again. "Fazul, take Misty Dawn, and round up the insolent one, I will have need of both of them later. Secure them both until I call for them. Stand the crew down as soon as we are set. Get the fire's stoked, the lads may need a hearty supper. I'll be needing all hands later. Olivia and I do not wish to be disturbed." His string of commands complete Charles set back off across the Raven's deck. The Machiavellian look of thought returning in a flood to his face as he vanished from the forecastle quickly as he came.
Fazul wiped the beaded sweat from his tattooed dome with a beefy palm and shook his head. As you wish, Sultan," he said to the empty air of the forecastle as Charles disappeared across the deck. He slowly turned to Dawn, bowing slightly he held out a large hand, "You must accompany me, Sultan's Girl," he said as warmly as he could.
