Molly frowned, she knew the name of the ship but couldn't recall where from. It wasn't one she'd seen in the harbour earlier, that she was sure of, yet it was familiar. Rog didn't offer her any other information so she turned what she had over in her mind. It wasn't long until the others returned. John was with them, a jovial smile spattered over his round face.
"Captain wants to know if you'd care to join him?" he said. The way he said it made it clear there would be no argument. They all exchanged a quick glance before Davie stood, the rest followed half a second later.
"Be an honour," he said. They traipsed over to the booth and all squeezed around the wooden table. Molly was at the end furthest from the new comers and closest to the door. She had a good view of the room and a better view of their host. The tall man was the Captain; masses of dark curling hair spilled from beneath his hat. He wore a dark frock coat made of a rich brocade, the like of which Molly had rarely seen. Most of his face was still in shadow under the massive hat he wore and the way he sat told her he knew who was in charge of the situation.
"So tell me, how fairs the crew of the Red Plunder?" he said his accent was perfect Quillaan, smooth and flawless.
"Now you should know full well how things fair on board." Davie said. "Besides, with all respect to a man such as yourself, I'd not be telling you the details of the latest voyage."
"As loyal as ever," he said. Molly detected a malicious undertone in his voice but she kept her thoughts to herself. She wondered what Davie meant; she narrowed her eyes as she scrutinized the Quillaan captain. What was a Quillaan doing here in the Swari archipelago anyway? They kept to themselves for the most part, not interested in trading outside their own boarders. Still, he was a pirate and there had to be a reason why.
"Aye lad, not all of us can afford to serve ourselves," Davie said. One of the chairs scrapped back, two pirates stood, their hands reaching for their sword belts.
"Boys, sit! What the man says is the God's honest truth," the men settled back in their seats with a grumble, "Forgive them, they're rather high strung for this profession, they don't understand that fortune has been kind in bringing us all back together again. Just answer me one question," he said.
"What?" this time it was Len who spoke. The frown on his face deepened as the Captain turned to face him.
"Why are you here, in my tavern?"
"This is your tavern?"
Molly chanced a look at John and Bart who exchanged a sheepish glance, they must have known before they brought them to this place. She crossed her arms over her chest and snorted.
"And who have we here? Some chit you picked up on your way?" the Captain said turning to look at Molly. For the first time she noticed his eyes, cold and hard, no trace of warmth in the icy blue depths. She narrowed her own and thrust her chin up; she'd not be intimidated by the likes of him.
"Hardly," she said.
"This is Molly," Davie said, "She's a part of the crew," the Captain smiled at that, a cruel line that looked more like a grimace than anything else. Molly supressed a shudder.
"And who are you sir? Who designs to interrupt our first night ashore after such a bloody long time? I was looking forward to a drink and some relaxation. Instead I find myself interrogated by a stranger for an offense I don't know I committed."
"Fiery indeed," John said raising an eyebrow.
"I can defend myself," she said.
"Of that I have no doubt; you'd not have lasted long on the Plunder otherwise." The Captain's intense gaze fixed her to the spot as he spoke but she refused to back down and look away. She'd spoken her mind and wasn't going to let it go that easily.
"I'm waiting, your name sir."
He paused for a while, looking for all the world as though he was pondering something of the greatest importance. "My name is insignificant and there is no offense on your part Molly. If I have led you to believe so, I apologise. I beg your forgiveness," he said. All she could hear then was the pounding of blood in her ears, or was it the drum beat; she wasn't so sure she wanted to know. "Do you forgive me?" everyone around the table looked at her and heat rose in her cheeks. She managed a nod before sinking further back into her chair. "Now that's cleared up, I should like to know if you intend to stay in town for long?"
"What's it to you?"
"I cannot stand the thought of being in the same town as you knowing that woman is so close, let alone the same room. The sooner you leave the better," he said. His voice was little more than a snarl and Molly swallowed hard. Davie, Rog and Len each looked at each other, eventually it was Rog who spoke up.
"If that be the case Captain, we'll leave this place. I ain't got no clue what she's planning but I bets as soon as she knows you're here, we'll be put to sea again."
"And may we never meet again," he said. "Molly, let me give you some advice, whether you want it or not, you'll leave that ship and find a truer Captain than the one you sail under," Molly did her best to smile but she knew it was a pale thing.
"Thank you Captain," she said. He raised an eyebrow before he turned to speak with his shipmates. Her companions stood and she joined them. They left the tavern and headed back to the main drag. "Who the fuck was that?" she said. "And how in Maylan's name did we get driven out of there?" her hands curled into balls as she spoke and her tone rose.
"Calm it Molly. It was just a ghost from the past," Len said.
"There are plenty more bars to serve us," Rog said.
"I don't know if I feel like it anymore."
"Aye, he has a way of bringing bile to the back of your throat doesn't he?" Davie said, "Don't let it bother you. It wasn't directed at you. The night is yet a few hours old and Rog's right; there are more places than one in this part of town."
"All right," she said after a moment. Davie gave an approving nod before she was once more dragged through the throng. The third place they visited was much like the first and although she did her best to enjoy the grog and the company, the spark had gone out of the evening. Her companions refused to comment further on the incident so she dropped the issue. She'd just finished her fourth mug of grog when she was approached by a woman.
"Ged's blood, is that you?"
