Sad_Girl
Blue Crack Supplier
**Disclaimer – Though inspired in part by people who exist in reality, this story is not meant to represent them in any literal way. No offense is meant to anyone who resembles in any way any of the characters in the story.
On the rising tide Chapter 20
Carra was humming to herself as she descended the stairs, feeling far better this morning than she had in months. She had woken up refreshed, no aches in her muscles, and the only complaint she had from her belly was because it was empty. She was hungry! She dressed for the day as quickly as she could, her mind on the fresh scones she knew Adam would have waiting with their morning tea.
She drew up short as she neared the foot of the stairs however, to see a familiar figure framed by the light coming in through the window by the door. For a moment, she seriously thought she must be dreaming. There was an unearthly quality about the way the morning sunlight created a glowing aura around him. Besides that, why would he be there in the first place?
She knew it was no dream a moment later, when he turned to face her and his handsome features twisted into a scowl.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, and Carra let out an indignant huff.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” She replied coolly.
“I was invited.” Larry told her through clenched teeth.
“Yes, and Carra is my guest. Come in here, the both of you.” Adam told them from the doorway of the breakfast room. Edge and Bono were there, waiting with Adam. Carra glanced around at them suspiciously but decided to hold her tongue. She might make things worse by slinging accusations before she’d heard them speak.
“Sit down, make yourself comfortable.” Adam said, gesturing toward the only two seats left at the small table. They each took a seat, grudgingly, while being dramatically careful not to bump elbows with one another.
“Help yourself to a scone.” Adam continued, pouring each of them a cup of tea.
“No thank you.” Larry told him. “I’d rather get down to discussion of this business proposition you invited me here to consider.” Carra helped herself to two of the rather large pastries, slathered in marmalade, stuffing large bites into her mouth as she listened to the men.
“We asked you here because we’re interested in buying the aingeal.” Edge informed Larry, earning a startled glance and raised eyebrow from Carra, whose cheeks were to full to comment.
“What?”
“We’re going to need a ship, and since you have your new cutter…”
“I don’t have a new vessel.” Larry informed him shortly.
“What happened to your…er… arrangement?” Bono asked, looking to see Carra’s reaction. She carefully concealed her surprise by taking another huge bite. Larry frowned at Bono, and everyone expected him to tell him it was none of his business. Instead, he surprised them all.
“I broke off the engagement.”
“Why?” Bono asked, his eyes swinging back and forth between Carra and Larry.
“It wasn’t an even trade.” Larry quipped. “She annoyed me.”
This was said just as Bono took a drink of his tea, which consequently came back out through his nose as he tried to laugh and swallow at the same time. All Carra could do was stare at the remains of the pastry in her hands and try not to look too happy to hear Larry’s news. Once he saw that Bono could catch his breath again, Edge continued.
“Well, then. I don’t suppose we could commission you to captain the aingeal for us?”
“For what?”
“This may sound a bit – dodgy, but I want you to give it some serious consideration.” Edge started, and Larry leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Obviously, you’ve heard of privateering?”
“Of course.” Larry mumbled with a nod.
“A vessel can be licensed to operate in campaign against enemy shipping. Which is exactly what we plan to do…” Edge said, glancing around the table nervously for some help from one of the others who had come up with this plan. “But against English vessels transporting goods out of Ireland. The things which should, by rights, belong to the Irish.”
“You want to reclaim things the British army has confiscated?”
“… yes. As well as the money paid into taxes levied by the British.” Edge informed him, and Larry ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. Finally, he shook his head and disbelief.
“You’re not talking about privateering, Edge. You’re talking about piracy.”
“Not at all, piracy involves taking that which does not rightfully belong to you.” Bono argued. “Which is what they are doing, so when you think about it, they are the real pirates. We’ll simply be stealing from the thieves.”
Larry snorted with laughter at Bono’s twisted logic.
“You’ve gone completely mad! I’m not even going to justify that last bit of shite you spouted. I will say that one fatal flaw in your plan to consider yourselves privateers rather than pirates is that you need a letter of marque to operate as a privateer. That allows you to confiscate goods off a defeated enemy ship, not from a ship sponsored by the very authority which issued the letter in the first place!” He argued.
“Our letter of Marque will be issued by the Irish people.” Bono replied confidently.
“Which means exactly shite in the eyes of any nation. Ireland is a British state as far as the world at large is concerned.”
“The French will recognize an Irish marque.”
“So long as it’s not a French ship you’re attacking!”
“Larry, look around you when you go back out that door. Look around you at the state of the people you see in Dublin. The people you see in Cork or Kerry, or Belfast city. The people who are unwilling to give up their beliefs to a cold government which wants to control their lives. People who are going hungry, who are being beaten, taxed until they have no money to pay their rent. People whose homes are burnt to the ground, their wives raped for what the husband believes!” Edge argued passionately.
“Now tell me you will sit back and do nothing. You will not make any attempt to effect justice where there is none. A man who does nothing at all is no better than the man who snatches the bread from the hands of Irelands children.”
“What good will our being executed for piracy and treason do for the people of Ireland?” Larry replied. “We are four men against nearly inexhaustible resources.”
“We will do what we can for as long as we can. Perhaps our example will inspire change on either or both sides. We won’t know unless we try.” Adam finally spoke up. Larry blinked at him in shock, having expected Adam to be on his side of this argument.
“You’re a man of faith, Larry. Have you forgotten the story of David and Goliath?” Carra added, wiping her sticky hands on a napkin as she finished her breakfast.
“You plan on taking part in this as well, then?” He asked, and she nodded. “The aingeal isn’t fast enough for what you’ll need. Nor is she equipped for battle. We have only half a dozen cannons and a small armory.” He said thoughtfully rubbing his chin.
“I’ve already thought of that.” Edge replied. “My brother Dik and I have been working on some changes which could be made to the ship to add speed and maneuverability. They would also make it possible to sail with a much smaller crew.”
“I can’t fucking believe I’m doing this.” Larry sighed, the others smiling victoriously. “I’ll be captain of the aingeal, but one of you will be in charge of the actual ‘privateers’.” He told them, and they nodded their heads in eager agreement.
“I’ve already designed several possible plans of attack.” Bono informed him. “As well as a flag.”
“A flag? I will not be flying a Jolly Roger on the aingeal.”
“No, no of course not. We aren’t pirates, after all.” Bono told him with a smirk and a wink. “This is a white flag.” He added, rising from the table and hurrying out of the room to retrieve the object in question.
“He’s already made this flag?” Larry asked Edge who chuckled in response, nodding his head.
“The idea started with the phrase ‘achtarán na hÉireann’. President of Ireland.” Bono explained as he returned to the room, a folded white flag in his hands. “But… well, it got shortened a bit.” He said sheepishly, unfolding the flag on the table.
“U2?” Larry asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Right. I was working with it, though… the main concept was that of leadership, authority, and so forth.”
“All right. And you shortened it down to a U. Where does the two come in?”
“Well, U1 sounded rather defeatist. Get it? U1. You won. On a white flag, no less.” Bono replied. Edge, Adam and Carra groaned at hearing this joke for what was at least the fifth time. It got worse each time they heard it. Larry actually chuckled while rolling his eyes.
“All right. It won’t make any sense at first, but I suppose if we survive our first voyage, word will spread and people will come to recognize our flag.” Larry sighed.
“So you’re in?”
“Aye, I’m in. I can’t let you guys go ahead with this crazy plan without someone sensible to watch yer backs.” Larry told him with a smirk.
*************************************************************
Amidst the schemings of the group of would-be privateers, the plans for the wedding were formed quickly, and surprisingly easily. It was held on Christmas eve, in the late afternoon so that the Father would be back to the church well before midnight mass. Adam had organized everything himself, more or less, a fact which did not settle Edge’s nerves.
As he watched the hectic comings and goings of what to Edge’s eyes seemed to be far too many strangers, he questioned his sanity for trusting Adam with this task. There was a cook and small waitstaff in the kitchen, a gardener and florist arranging hothouse flowers in the great hall where the wedding would actually take place, and several people whose jobs Edge could not guess.
“Adam!” He called out upon seeing his mate hurrying from the kitchen toward the great hall. He was dressed as immaculately as ever in a brand new emerald green waist coat and dark gray breeches. His white shirt was as white as the snow falling outside. “Who are all of these people?” Edge demanded, and Adam glanced around as if he hadn’t even noticed them.
“They’re people I hired to help with the wedding. Don’t worry about the cost, I’ve already taken care of their wages. Consider it my wedding gift to you.” He replied with a sincere smile.
“We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile!” Edge hissed, his green eyes shining in the candle lit corridor.
“There is no one here I cannot trust.” Adam assured him. “And I have Bono safely tucked away, only the guests, the Priest and the waitstaff will know he was here. Most likely they won’t even realize who he is.”
“You underestimate his notoriety.” Edge warned.
“Trust me. It will be just fine.” Adam told his friend again, patting him on the shoulder. “Go, get dressed. You haven’t long to wait now.”
Edge pursed his lips and considered arguing some more but realized it was a useless endeavor. It was too late to change anything now.
On the rising tide Chapter 20
Carra was humming to herself as she descended the stairs, feeling far better this morning than she had in months. She had woken up refreshed, no aches in her muscles, and the only complaint she had from her belly was because it was empty. She was hungry! She dressed for the day as quickly as she could, her mind on the fresh scones she knew Adam would have waiting with their morning tea.
She drew up short as she neared the foot of the stairs however, to see a familiar figure framed by the light coming in through the window by the door. For a moment, she seriously thought she must be dreaming. There was an unearthly quality about the way the morning sunlight created a glowing aura around him. Besides that, why would he be there in the first place?
She knew it was no dream a moment later, when he turned to face her and his handsome features twisted into a scowl.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, and Carra let out an indignant huff.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” She replied coolly.
“I was invited.” Larry told her through clenched teeth.
“Yes, and Carra is my guest. Come in here, the both of you.” Adam told them from the doorway of the breakfast room. Edge and Bono were there, waiting with Adam. Carra glanced around at them suspiciously but decided to hold her tongue. She might make things worse by slinging accusations before she’d heard them speak.
“Sit down, make yourself comfortable.” Adam said, gesturing toward the only two seats left at the small table. They each took a seat, grudgingly, while being dramatically careful not to bump elbows with one another.
“Help yourself to a scone.” Adam continued, pouring each of them a cup of tea.
“No thank you.” Larry told him. “I’d rather get down to discussion of this business proposition you invited me here to consider.” Carra helped herself to two of the rather large pastries, slathered in marmalade, stuffing large bites into her mouth as she listened to the men.
“We asked you here because we’re interested in buying the aingeal.” Edge informed Larry, earning a startled glance and raised eyebrow from Carra, whose cheeks were to full to comment.
“What?”
“We’re going to need a ship, and since you have your new cutter…”
“I don’t have a new vessel.” Larry informed him shortly.
“What happened to your…er… arrangement?” Bono asked, looking to see Carra’s reaction. She carefully concealed her surprise by taking another huge bite. Larry frowned at Bono, and everyone expected him to tell him it was none of his business. Instead, he surprised them all.
“I broke off the engagement.”
“Why?” Bono asked, his eyes swinging back and forth between Carra and Larry.
“It wasn’t an even trade.” Larry quipped. “She annoyed me.”
This was said just as Bono took a drink of his tea, which consequently came back out through his nose as he tried to laugh and swallow at the same time. All Carra could do was stare at the remains of the pastry in her hands and try not to look too happy to hear Larry’s news. Once he saw that Bono could catch his breath again, Edge continued.
“Well, then. I don’t suppose we could commission you to captain the aingeal for us?”
“For what?”
“This may sound a bit – dodgy, but I want you to give it some serious consideration.” Edge started, and Larry leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Obviously, you’ve heard of privateering?”
“Of course.” Larry mumbled with a nod.
“A vessel can be licensed to operate in campaign against enemy shipping. Which is exactly what we plan to do…” Edge said, glancing around the table nervously for some help from one of the others who had come up with this plan. “But against English vessels transporting goods out of Ireland. The things which should, by rights, belong to the Irish.”
“You want to reclaim things the British army has confiscated?”
“… yes. As well as the money paid into taxes levied by the British.” Edge informed him, and Larry ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. Finally, he shook his head and disbelief.
“You’re not talking about privateering, Edge. You’re talking about piracy.”
“Not at all, piracy involves taking that which does not rightfully belong to you.” Bono argued. “Which is what they are doing, so when you think about it, they are the real pirates. We’ll simply be stealing from the thieves.”
Larry snorted with laughter at Bono’s twisted logic.
“You’ve gone completely mad! I’m not even going to justify that last bit of shite you spouted. I will say that one fatal flaw in your plan to consider yourselves privateers rather than pirates is that you need a letter of marque to operate as a privateer. That allows you to confiscate goods off a defeated enemy ship, not from a ship sponsored by the very authority which issued the letter in the first place!” He argued.
“Our letter of Marque will be issued by the Irish people.” Bono replied confidently.
“Which means exactly shite in the eyes of any nation. Ireland is a British state as far as the world at large is concerned.”
“The French will recognize an Irish marque.”
“So long as it’s not a French ship you’re attacking!”
“Larry, look around you when you go back out that door. Look around you at the state of the people you see in Dublin. The people you see in Cork or Kerry, or Belfast city. The people who are unwilling to give up their beliefs to a cold government which wants to control their lives. People who are going hungry, who are being beaten, taxed until they have no money to pay their rent. People whose homes are burnt to the ground, their wives raped for what the husband believes!” Edge argued passionately.
“Now tell me you will sit back and do nothing. You will not make any attempt to effect justice where there is none. A man who does nothing at all is no better than the man who snatches the bread from the hands of Irelands children.”
“What good will our being executed for piracy and treason do for the people of Ireland?” Larry replied. “We are four men against nearly inexhaustible resources.”
“We will do what we can for as long as we can. Perhaps our example will inspire change on either or both sides. We won’t know unless we try.” Adam finally spoke up. Larry blinked at him in shock, having expected Adam to be on his side of this argument.
“You’re a man of faith, Larry. Have you forgotten the story of David and Goliath?” Carra added, wiping her sticky hands on a napkin as she finished her breakfast.
“You plan on taking part in this as well, then?” He asked, and she nodded. “The aingeal isn’t fast enough for what you’ll need. Nor is she equipped for battle. We have only half a dozen cannons and a small armory.” He said thoughtfully rubbing his chin.
“I’ve already thought of that.” Edge replied. “My brother Dik and I have been working on some changes which could be made to the ship to add speed and maneuverability. They would also make it possible to sail with a much smaller crew.”
“I can’t fucking believe I’m doing this.” Larry sighed, the others smiling victoriously. “I’ll be captain of the aingeal, but one of you will be in charge of the actual ‘privateers’.” He told them, and they nodded their heads in eager agreement.
“I’ve already designed several possible plans of attack.” Bono informed him. “As well as a flag.”
“A flag? I will not be flying a Jolly Roger on the aingeal.”
“No, no of course not. We aren’t pirates, after all.” Bono told him with a smirk and a wink. “This is a white flag.” He added, rising from the table and hurrying out of the room to retrieve the object in question.
“He’s already made this flag?” Larry asked Edge who chuckled in response, nodding his head.
“The idea started with the phrase ‘achtarán na hÉireann’. President of Ireland.” Bono explained as he returned to the room, a folded white flag in his hands. “But… well, it got shortened a bit.” He said sheepishly, unfolding the flag on the table.
“U2?” Larry asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Right. I was working with it, though… the main concept was that of leadership, authority, and so forth.”
“All right. And you shortened it down to a U. Where does the two come in?”
“Well, U1 sounded rather defeatist. Get it? U1. You won. On a white flag, no less.” Bono replied. Edge, Adam and Carra groaned at hearing this joke for what was at least the fifth time. It got worse each time they heard it. Larry actually chuckled while rolling his eyes.
“All right. It won’t make any sense at first, but I suppose if we survive our first voyage, word will spread and people will come to recognize our flag.” Larry sighed.
“So you’re in?”
“Aye, I’m in. I can’t let you guys go ahead with this crazy plan without someone sensible to watch yer backs.” Larry told him with a smirk.
*************************************************************
Amidst the schemings of the group of would-be privateers, the plans for the wedding were formed quickly, and surprisingly easily. It was held on Christmas eve, in the late afternoon so that the Father would be back to the church well before midnight mass. Adam had organized everything himself, more or less, a fact which did not settle Edge’s nerves.
As he watched the hectic comings and goings of what to Edge’s eyes seemed to be far too many strangers, he questioned his sanity for trusting Adam with this task. There was a cook and small waitstaff in the kitchen, a gardener and florist arranging hothouse flowers in the great hall where the wedding would actually take place, and several people whose jobs Edge could not guess.
“Adam!” He called out upon seeing his mate hurrying from the kitchen toward the great hall. He was dressed as immaculately as ever in a brand new emerald green waist coat and dark gray breeches. His white shirt was as white as the snow falling outside. “Who are all of these people?” Edge demanded, and Adam glanced around as if he hadn’t even noticed them.
“They’re people I hired to help with the wedding. Don’t worry about the cost, I’ve already taken care of their wages. Consider it my wedding gift to you.” He replied with a sincere smile.
“We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile!” Edge hissed, his green eyes shining in the candle lit corridor.
“There is no one here I cannot trust.” Adam assured him. “And I have Bono safely tucked away, only the guests, the Priest and the waitstaff will know he was here. Most likely they won’t even realize who he is.”
“You underestimate his notoriety.” Edge warned.
“Trust me. It will be just fine.” Adam told his friend again, patting him on the shoulder. “Go, get dressed. You haven’t long to wait now.”
Edge pursed his lips and considered arguing some more but realized it was a useless endeavor. It was too late to change anything now.
i love it 
hope it make at least a little more sense 
