Catherine wrung her hands and paced close to the door. She could hear muffled thuds and bumps from within. A fear gripped her soul as she paced, there was something she could not put her finger upon that was clawing at her mercilessly. She knew that Dawn was much more suited to her tasks than Catherine would ever be, and her own fear of the devil beyond the door held her in a nervous checkmate on the opposite side of it.
Just as she had resigned herself to fretting kind of worry, knowing that her former servant, now masterful mistress would handle the situation perfectly whether Catherine worried or not; a new terror seized her. Catherine did not manage to gasp, as her mouth was sealed tight by the filth-covered fingers that clasped her lips in a manacle grip. Her arms flew up to fend off an attack and then were stayed at the sight of the broad bladed knife that glinted cruelly before her eyes just before it slid beneath her jaw to press its cool sharpness to her thin throat.
"Remember me, crone," the familiar, rum soaked hiss of Robbins licked like a flame from the deepest pit of hell over her ear just as she felt the portly body cinch itself hard to her back. With eyes spread wide as unclipped florins, Catherine could only nod hastily, if not vigorously into the gripped hand over her mouth and the steel at her neck. "Well then since there seems to be no need for introductions." Robbins grinned, savoring his regained power. "I 'ld wager that the cap'n's other bitch is right now mesmerizing good cap'n Duvall with her soiled charms, in there," Robbins indicated with a nudge of the tip of his knife to the door. He was careless enough to let the blade bite Catherine's neck a wee bit. Catherine nodded again, despite the faint trickle and pain that shot across her dark bodice. Using Catherine's weight, coupled with his own, Robbins threw himself through the door to the seedy boudoir.
The door crashed open jarring Duval back into the world, he had been savoring the experience as he watched the gray-green eyes fluttering as the sweet face ashen beneath his grasp. What beauty he held in his powerful hands as what could be the last of her lungs bubbled his coating of seed around his shrinking mainsail and between paling lips. Instantly, Duval fell back in a defensive stance, casting the used corpse aside roughly. The heavy cutlass leapt from his baldric, its razor tip set out from his face even with his nose.
Robbins halted just inside the splintered doorway, his battered hostage draped over his torso blood trickling from her throat and a large purpling mark on her forehead showing her unconsciousness. For a moment, the two men studied one-another sizing up the situation of the short distance between them both. Neither heard the gurgled coughing from the crumpled doll whose arms were sprawled beneath the settee. "Cap'n Duval," Robbins began, "sir, I have come to warn you that your command is under attack." As if on cue, the sounds of exploding gun powered erupted from the direction of the docks.
Duval heard the man's words, then the sounds of fire. His soldier's mind leapt through the progression of what he must do. Never taking his gaze from the dirty sailor before him, he seen his first step, and acted before his mind could even take it into an accounting. Robbins, hearing the first blasts, shot his gaze off Duval to the window to look out at the harbor.
Duval launched himself to save his command as the fool turned, Duval had found that trusting no one was far safer, and cheaper than the course of trust. Robbins stunned head rolled from his shoulders as Duval passed through the door, his cutlass decorated by the old man's blood. Dawn, still gasping for breath pushed herself to a sitting position just in time to see Robbins head roll one way, as if to follow Duval out the door while his body twitched the other into a heap atop the bleeding Catherine.
Dawn shuffled as fast as she could to her fallen co-conspirator, there seemed to still be breath from her lips as she pushed the lifeless body of the old mariner away like a foul bit of rubbish. Pressing the fine silks of her gown to Catherine's neck, ruining it instantly in a far darker color, she screamed past her tears, "FAZUL!"
Fazul was just reaching the side entrance to the boarding house when he seen the front door erupts and the usurping pirate Duval burst from it. His great Saracen blade flashed to his hand, he could do the sultan a great service here. However, his ears held him back. He heard the scream from the upper floor. Haltingly he took a step towards the speeding captain, another scream more laden with terror pulled his giant form back. Spitting in the direction of the docks that were quickly becoming shrouded in puffs of smoke and ringing with the sounds of a small battle Fazul lunged his massive girth through the side door and leapt up the stairs towards the screams that pulled on his heart like the fingers of a gail on full sheets.
*****
