Chapter 105: A Month, As Promised
Dawn of the thirtieth day.
Golden light slipped through a narrow gap in the shutters, waking up James to a new day.
A month ago, this had been little more than an idea scratched into the dirt.
Now he had an actual house, not the shack he used before.
Not a grand one, but solid. Four stout walls, a roof that had yet to leak, and enough room that he didn’t have to trip over everything he owned. A bedroom occupied the back, while the front held a hearth, a sturdy table buried beneath charts, and enough shelves, chairs, and cupboards to pass for something dangerously close to an office.
It was more comfort than he’d ever expected to find wearing a pirate’s coat.
If he was honest, he slept better because of it.
Anne lay sprawled across him, by then a daily occurrence. One arm lay draped across his chest, warm and pleasantly heavy, her fingers curled loosely against his side. Her dark hair spread over the pillow and across his shoulder in an unruly tangle that smelled faintly of salt and smoke.
She slept the way she lived, without asking anyone’s permission and without caring in the slightest whether the rest of the world approved.
James let her sleep.
He lay still, listening as the town breathed around him.
"Right then."
He kept his voice soft, more to himself than the rafters overhead. "Let’s see what a month’s bought me."
⚓ [ALLIED TERRITORY — CONCORDIA]
Faction : None (Independent)
Status : Proto-Republic
Population : Approximately 250
Stability : Consolidating
Harbor : Sheltered Bay, Protected by Reefs
Facilities : Careening Cradle, Freshwater Cistern, Raised Timber Storehouse, Wooden Pier, Tavern, Brothel (Unstaffed), Sawpit, Cookhouse, Stoneworks, Distillery, the Code
Faction Status : Unofficial Governor
🏴 [QUEST PROGRESS — FROM DRIFTWOOD TO REPUBLIC]
Milestone Reached : Growth Tier II — Hideout
Reward : 29 Fate
Whether the new tier reflects well on your work or merely demonstrates how impressively low the previous standard was remains open to debate. Three tiers still separate this place from anything worthy of being called a country.
Your balance now stands at ninety. Such a pleasingly round number. Do try not to spend it on a chicken again.
James barked a laugh, "Twice now ye’ve mentioned the chicken. A man makes one honest business offer to a bird and never hears the end of it."
Silence.
He hadn’t expected anything else.
The voice had never been worth arguing with.
"Right. Let’s see the rest."
🏴 [BAY OVERVIEW — CONCORDIA]
Resources : Timber (Abundant), Stone (Limited), Fresh Water (Reliable), Food (Growing)
Infrastructure : Careening Cradle, Freshwater Cistern, Raised Timber Storehouse, Wooden Pier, Tavern, Brothel, Sawpit, Cookhouse, Stoneworks, Distillery, the Code
Development : Harbor-centered. Residential and workshops expanding inland, while the untapped hardwood grove and ridge quarry remain available.
James read the overview.
The smile on his face widened.
A month ago, this had been little more than a strip of sand and one stubborn tree growing sideways out of a crack in the rock. Now the place had storehouses, food production, and streets beginning to take form like any respectable port.
Better still, most of the work hadn’t needed him standing over anyone’s shoulder.
Meanwhile, the ruins were another beast entirely.
His thoughts lingered there only briefly.
No fresh gold had appeared since the mask, and nobody was pushing deeper than the stone let them. Every support beam was checked twice before anyone trusted it to go deeper, and every pocket of stale air was checked before the expedition risked a bloody explosion.
He and Mary had nearly died down there once already.
Neither of them felt any particular need to try again.
Beside him, Anne snuggled to his chest.
A silent murmur escaped her, half a word swallowed by sleep, and one leg slipped farther over his without any reason he could imagine.
James stared at the ceiling at once.
Sheet bend.
Bowline.
Clove hitch.
A month’s practice hadn’t made that little exercise any easier.
Not that he’d expected it to.
His thoughts drifted back to work, and he called up the next list.
🏴 [AVAILABLE CONSTRUCTION — CONCORDIA]
Pier, Tavern, and Cookhouse Expansions
Purpose : Expansion enough for a town that had already outgrown the current facilities
Materials : Hardwood Timber, Stone
Labor : 15-20 Hands (Per Structure)
Construction Time : 1-2 Weeks (Per Structure)
Overseer : Skilled Carpenter Required
Family Row
Purpose : Homes for families, separate from the single hands’ quarters
Materials : Softwood Timber, Thatch
Labor : Small Crew (Per Dwelling)
Construction Time : 3-4 Days (Per Dwelling)
Overseer : Any Capable Hand
Farmland
Purpose : Cleared fields planted with corn, cane, and whatever else the soil proved willing to grow
Materials : Cleared Land, Tools
Labor : 15-20 Hands
Construction Time : Ongoing
Overseer : Skilled Farmer Required
Fisherman’s Dock
Purpose : Mooring and gutting stations to make full use of the bay’s fish stocks
Materials : Softwood Timber, Cordage
Labor : 6-8 Hands
Construction Time : 4-5 Days
Overseer : Mateo Salazar Required
Hunting Camp
Purpose : Smokehouse and hunting blinds beyond the forest
Materials : Softwood Timber
Labor : 6-8 Hands
Construction Time : 4-5 Days
Overseer : Capable Hand Required
James went through the list before he gave a low laugh.
"Solve one problem, and the bloody thing grows two more."
Reading Mateo’s name printed there brought another grin.
The man had said as much on that first day aboard the tavern deck. He knew boats, he knew tides, he knew where the fish gathered.
Apparently the voice had been paying attention too.
James shrugged the list away and got comfier into the pillow, letting himself think through what the past month had become.
He remembered leaving that Nassau tavern with Thatch still laughing beside him. He’d promised himself a month. Long enough for two stubborn old bastards to fight over a harbor neither truly owned, and long enough to return afterward and see which one remained standing.
Somewhere along the way he’d stopped counting the days.
He hadn’t needed to.
Now he lay inside a bay that was transformed by timber, planned fishing docks, and centered itself around a stone no one had yet broken a rule against.
When he counted backward, the answer came easily.
Almost exactly one month.
Jennings had promised fireworks were coming.
James found himself curious enough to see what that promise looked like.
He was still turning the thought over when he noticed Anne’s breathing hadn’t changed for rather longer than it should have.
He turned his head.
Her eyes were already open.
Judging by the amused look in them, they’d been open for some time.
Green and steady, far too entertained for someone who was supposed to be asleep.
"Mornin’, lass." James smiled down at her. "Enjoyin’ the view?"
"I was, until you opened your mouth." Anne snickered.
James found himself feeling a little more daring that morning. Maybe it was because of the way Anne had stopped keeping him at arm’s length. The woman who once slept with one eye open now rested against him without hesitation, comfortable enough to make his chest her pillow and trust him not to ruin the peace she had found.
A dangerous amount of confidence came from that realization.
James’s hand slipped beneath the sheet and gave her rear a light, playful swat. His grin appeared before he could stop it. Even half asleep, Anne was warm against him, soft and far too comfortable for a man with his particular kind of restraint.
"That’s a rare look ye’re wearin’."
He lifted an eyebrow. "What’s got you starin’ at me like a maiden in love so early?"
Anne did not argue.
She did not threaten him.
She simply placed both hands against his chest and shoved.
Hard.
The world tilted.
One moment James was in bed.
The next he was on the floor, tangled in the sheet, the wooden boards knocking every bit of air from his lungs before he’d even managed to finish the thought in his head.
Anne leaned over the edge of the bed, looking down at him with satisfaction.
"You really do enjoy tempting fate, don’t you?"
There was no anger in her face. No real offense.
Simply deep, dangerous amusement.
"One day you’ll learn that luck does not mean you can survive me."
James stayed where he was for a moment, catching his breath.
He was still smiling.
Anne flopped back onto her pillow as though the matter had been settled.
"Aye." James made no effort to stand. "We’ll see about that."
He grinned up at the rafters.
As far as he was concerned, he’d already chosen where his next voyage would begin.