Riara in Morocco

Chapter 3: Part 2

Teach brings up a mischievous grin to Eden, his golden tooth glinting brightly in the light.

"Yarr... ya knoooww who 'lsesss plays a parrrt in 'is?" Teach eyes Eden assertively, assessing him closely, and amusedly. He nods when Eden's face tense with guilt, and looks away, then back. "Yesss, sir... yooou... ya making a pretty damned hefty profit outta allll me plunderin', right? Gov? Yar can't keep yar swea'y palms off alll that gold, can yar?... ya damn court fillin' 'em pockets from me gains, freeloading off what we do." he mocks. "All me hard work for ya to benefit from me hard earnin'-"

"Not an honest earning, Edward-" Eden scolds.

"And whatcha do?..." Teach snarls. "Bribery?... is 'at an earnest, honest earnin'-" Teach tilts his head, mocking him. "Ya ain't no saint- ya keep yar virtuous reputation, gov- keep yar scandals clean- but yar keepin' I's miserably poor and I gotta keep me thieving ta keep up wit me payments... to you." he snorts. Eden's expression hardens, and he gazes at Teach pointedly.

"I know you hold that treasure somewhere out there Teach, you don't fool me... your not as poor as you make yourself out to be-"

"The treasureee you tink I 'aves is only in yar damn minddd, ya mutt- in yar damn imagination." Teach bites out, defensively.

They stare at each other for a while, before Teach pulls out a small leather satchel filled with gold coins and hands it over to Eden. "Yarrr payment, sire." he mocks and salutes, a devilish grin rolling against his lips. "In fullll... now leave me be... leave me crew to pivateeeeerrr." he laughs, before turning around and wandering back to his horse, and after a couple of attempts he manages to climb back on.

He wheels his horse around, and drunkenly wanders back into the darkened woodlands, and into the pitch dark night, murmuring a song under his breath... but before he is able to make it back home, he passes out... eventually falling off his horse and sinking into the tall grass near to the dirt track he'd been taking.

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Rafe cranks on the engine of the motorbike Farras had set up for them to use for their search. It roars to life, and a small smile pulls at the edges of his lips, content to be mounted on one of these magnificent classics... a powerful beast of a bike, he feels his heart pound intensely, excited to be mounted on something so rare. It had a weathered and rustic feel and smelt sweet and divine, of old leather and worn vinyl. Appreciating the design- he runs a hand smoothly over the top of the throttle... it was certainly a vintage.

Farras sat in the sidecar, strapping himself in. He turns to Rafe, snapping him out of his thoughts, and urges him to go.

He'd let Rafe drive- let him take handle of the situation, and direct the search, as he knew Rafe had a more probable inkling of where the pogues would have set off to.

They take off after a short while, and then scour the area of nearby markets with roads wide enough for them to take, the motorbike roaring along the same paths that the pogues may have had to intercept to make it back to the small house Rafe now knew they'd been staying in.

It's not long before Rafe spots Pope roaming around on his own, wearing a beige scarf that partially covers his face. He'd thought Pope had been wandering alone- maybe having lost the others- until Rafe's eyes came across JJ somewhere not so far away. He cuts off the engine, and dismounts, motioning for Farras to train his eyes to Pope, instructing him to cautiously follow and give chase when time had been right, while he himself... he would go after JJ.

Rafe crouches, attempting to blend in with the movement of people, peering past cleaves of gaps between the crowds, and slipping stealthily past clusters of street goers wearing long robes and kaftans.