All four walked into the marketplace, and the street hawkers called out names of goods and prices that no one could beat, from salt to silk and fish to cattle. In truth, if you looked hard enough and had the coin, you could get anything. Even the words muttered to friends and foes alike were recorded and passed around like oeuvres at a party.

"This market. It's grand! I would have never in a hundred years thought this place could exist. ," Hutchens said wondrously to the group.

"That is just the thing. All goods traded worldwide end up on a ship of one kind or another by fair or foul means. And haul and heave will be the sailor's lot in life. So a little bit of the top never hurt no one," Mr Wolf commented.

"That fabric is amazing," Amelia commented. Moving closer to a stall piled with fabrics. Muzlins, cotton, silk, and wool. And it all in a rainbow of colors.

"Hello, such a lovely thing to say about my wares. You are clearly a lady. With an eye for quality. Have a feel of this," said the stall holder, a young woman with broad shoulders and wide hips, wearing a cotton lavalava, everyday clothing for the island. She held up a bolt of green silk and, unfurling the cloth, the vendor draped a corner of silk over Amelia's shoulder. The pattern on the green silk fabric was of a Chinese dragon; the scene showed the creature high in the sky with clouds around it. Amelia ran her hand over her shoulder and the fabric.

"Oh, thank you. Yes. This is simply a wonderful fabric. But, you see, I am not looking for anything just now," Amelia apologized.

"What else could you be looking for? A fine lady like yourself and accompanied by your husband, as you are." the woman waved a hand towards Mr Wolf. Then, changed the direction to Hutchens. Stepping forward, Hutchens placed a hand on Amelia's shoulder.

"My fine women, this is not my wife. I am a companion of sorts. You see, we are looking for someone," Hutchens explained.

"Well, it looks to me. Like you have found someone, me," the woman continued. She took the fabric from Amelia and draped it over Hutchinson's shoulder.

"Lady, would that not make a wonderful suit vest for this gentleman?" the women asked, ignoring Hutchens, who clucked.

"Maybe under a morning coat, for a wedding, Nah?" she smiled broadly and nudged Amelia with her elbow.

"Why, yes," Amelia found herself saying before she could stop herself and hoped no one noticed the blush on her cheeks.

"Then we have a sale. You will need something for the wedding dress, but not for the wedding night, Nah!" she now really laughed a good, hearty base laugh.

Amelia and Hutchens looked at each other, each scanning the face of the other. A moment stretched out to them, and the seconds seemed like minutes.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Well, I am engaged to Reggie," Amelia trailed off. "No. That's not right, to Kincade! Yes, Kincade…" she trailed, the confusion brightening her cheeks.

"Oh, for the sake of Poseidon. Will you help them?" Emma said, tapping Mr. Wolf on the back of his shoulder.

At that, Mr Wolf closed the gap between himself and the three would-be traders. Then, pulling out his cleaver from its sheath, he grabbed the fabric off the woman with such force as to pull another three feet off the bolt. His blade then sliced through the silk. At this, the seller gave an exaggerated huff.

"Well, we are fixing the price for that!" the trader complained. Clearly, she did not like the treatment Mr Wolf doled out.

"We won't be fixing anything but you," Mr. Wolf waved the cleaver's blade at the women.

"Steady on, there, Mr. Wolf," Hutchens warned protectively.

"You need to make sure that you pay attention to us," Mr. Wolf shook the fabric, and from the folds fell Hutchinson's pistol and his purse.

"You just let this one pick your pocket. So pick up your stuff." Mr. Wolf said to Hutchens and then turned back to the seller.

"You seen anyone from Ravens Claws?" Mr. Wolf half demanded half enquired through a squint. Angling his cleaver towards the merchant.

"And, what if I have?" was the defiant answer from the stall owner.

"You owe me for that cloth. I want an ounce of silver for it," she proclaimed, focusing not on the blade but turning a profit. She ignored the fact that she had just picked Hutchinson's pocket.

"I will give you two silver coins for the information," Mr. Wolf bargained.

"And, three coppers for the cloth. And," he added graciously, "And I won't cut your throat."

"I can take five silvers for the lot. So final and done," she countered, with no shame.

"Four and done," Mr. Wolf responded, placing the blade back in its scabbard.

"Done," She replied and bobbed her head.

"You pay her," Mr. Wolf told Hutchens, who dutifully opened his purse and handed over four silver coins.

"I have seen a couple of them from Ravens Claws. They are not bad lads," she said.

"What do they look like, and where can I find them?" Mr. Wolf asked in succession.

"Well, that was not the deal. The deal was for cloth and if I had seen them. I have seen'um. And, now you know more than you did, I dare say, Nah?" the woman brazenly replied, jutting her bottom lip. Mr. Wolf rolled his eyes.

"Give her another silver," he instructed Hutchens, who silently complied, mystified by the whole transaction.

"And, if'n you know what is good for, yeah, you won't get any fancier than this," Mr. Wolf said, holding up one of his fingers, extending it, and pointing it at the woman's face.

"Oh, you and I have a fair business deal here. The Red Rum Drum.

One is blond and has a tattoo on his arm, one for each ship he has served. The other is a dark-haired man carrying a dagger strung around a silver handle. There is an anvil carved into it. Your height and your build," she pointed first to Hutchens, then to Mr. Wolf.

"Okay. If the crew is there and hasn't heard about me. You will get another silver on our way back from him." Mr. Wolf promised her, pointing at Hutchens.

"And, give him his gun back," Mr. Wolf instructed. She, in turn, rolled her eyes and returned the pistol to Hutchens. Patting the pocket, he was sure he had put the gun.

"Well done, Mr. Wolf," Emma said as they walked away from the seller.

"Right you are, Captain," Mr. Wolf replied. "So, we go meet with these men, now?"

"Yes," Emma replied. "And, the rest will depend on them. If they want to take us to their ship, then we go," Emma concluded.

"And, if they don't?" Amelia questioned.

"Well, then. It is going to get a lot more interesting," Emma responded.

"And, how did you know that Hutchens was being robbed by that woman," Amelia asked.

"Because we are pirates," came the answer from Emma and Mr. Wolf simultaneously.