Maeve gripped her fiddle, drawing her bow across it, skipping lightly over the strings and she grinned at her small audience. She tossed her loose red curls back and began playing an old but well loved jig and the patrons began to clap and sing along with the bawdy lyrics. A couple of pirates grabbed some of the barmaids and danced in tight circles, kicking the heels of their well worn boots as the girl's skirts flared out in their spinning steps. Maeve laughed with joy and picked up the pace of her tune, the dancers twirling and shouting. When she finished she took a small bow to their applause and held her large plumed hat out into which was tossed a variety of coins of silver and copper.
A dark haired man in the back of the tavern caught her eye, his scarred visage was unfamiliar but she felt a chill when he stared at her. She looked him over quickly, his clothes were shabby and dirty but he was armed with fine weaponry, a large cutlass and two daggers. Maeve noticed a small design on the scabbard and she swallowed hard, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. It was a broken heart with two daggers crossed over it, it was his sign. This must be one of his men, here to finish what he could not.
"No more, I must take a break or me fingers will bleed again," Maeve waved off the calls for more songs and tucked the coins in her leather pouch tied to her bodice next to her ivory handled dagger. "Jolly good dancing, mates!"
She anxiously moved over to the bar and took an ale offered, downing it in two gulps and wiped the foam from her mouth. Maeve put her fiddle in her case and tucked it into the larger bag at her feet, keeping her eye on the pirate who was now slowly moving around the back of the tavern to cut off her escape. She felt for the pistol she kept tucked in her belt at her side, hidden under a sash tied around her waist. Suddenly she felt a tingling in her mind and tilted her head slightly, filled with the urge to walk outside to the pier. Without thinking she paid her tab and picked up her bag, heading out the door and into the bright sunshine. The dark haired man cursed and tried to move past some drunken patrons to pursue her but was shoved back with angry shouts and a scuffle broke out.
A strong gust of wind made her grab her hat and push it harder onto her head, her loose skirts whipping around her calf length leather boots. She walked steadily down the pier, glancing back now and again, carrying her heavy bag and mindlessly following an urge to move on. Soon she saw a ship moored at the dock, a new one from the look of it, sleek and modern. Her walk slowed as she gazed at it, the emblem of a map and crossed swords emblazoned on the crisp sail. Her mouth opened slightly as she looked at it and then she blinked and looked around, hardly remembering the long walk up the pier. Maeve saw a solitary figure and she waved hesitantly.
“Aye, there, Miss! You the captain?"