4 comments/ 12605 views/ 1 favorites The Fool's Errand By: Otto26 (I'd like to thank the people who read this story and offered their time and talent in editing, particularly snooper and Intriguess. This story is very carefully told from the point of view of only one person. If you are wondering what the other characters are thinking or feeling then I invite you to use your imagination. If you are so inclined, please feel free to tell this story from the perspective of any of the other characters. I'd love to see your work if you do.) The streets of Williamport were narrow, poorly maintained, and crowded, even several hours after sunset. Donovan hardly stood out from the swirl of torchlit colors in his scarlet coat and white wig, but he towered over the mainly Oriental population. He very much disliked Williamport, but it was a haven for rogues and scoundrels of all stripes and, thus, a good place to obtain information. The girl appeared out of nowhere, thrust into his path by the market crowd, and there was nothing he could do. He ran her down, then he stopped and turned, casually elbowing a couple of people aside to clear some space so that he could reach her. He scanned the crowd around him before bending over to offer her his left hand. "No harm done, lass?" he asked. She shook her head silently and looked at him with fearful eyes before hesitantly accepting his hand and pulling herself to her feet. She was perhaps ten years old and thin as a rail, an obvious street waif. "Do you know where you can get a meal with ten pennies?" he asked quietly. She nodded warily and he dropped ten pennies into her hand. "Then get yourself some food," he told her, "and say a prayer for the soul of Donovan Simms for so long as the money lasts." Her hand closed in a death grip on the small coins and she darted glances about her before smiling once at him and then vanishing into the crowd. Donovan watched her go and then dismissed the incident with a sigh and set out, again, for his destination. Away from the market the crowds thinned out considerably and the streets became darker. He was aware of someone following him and, for once, unsure how to deal with the problem. His pursuer was either very inexpert, or was making no effort to conceal himself. He looked around for a place where he might work unobserved and noticed a patch of darkness where there shouldn't be one. His hand, hooked into his belt, came out holding a death blossom even as the shadows started to move. The small torsion powered weapon in his right hand threw a cluster of darts at the first attacker as he turned his body to bring a second weapon in his left hand to bear on a second attacker. He discharged the weapon into the face of the second attacker and dropped to a knee as a third attacker tried to grapple his upper body. He used the spent weapon in his right hand to hook behind the knee of the third attacker and drove the palm of his left hand hard into the attacker's left hip. The man fell to the ground and Donovan drove for his throat, smashing it with his forearm. He rolled off and away, scrambling to his feet when he felt a wall he could keep at his back. He scanned the street for the fourth attacker, the one he had spotted following him, and saw him standing where he had last seem him. The rest of the street was rapidly emptying as passersby sought to rapidly be far away. The figure shrugged helplessly, revealing a woman's profile, and struggled for words. She settled for, "Looking for a good time?" Donovan laughed as he realized she was just a whore looking for a trick to turn. "Not the blade I was intending to slip you, lass. Another time, perhaps?" The piercing sound of whistles told him that a better citizen than most had encountered a watch patrol and cut off his laughter, which had threatened to become a semi-hysterical vent for the energy coursing through him. "Hell!" Donovan swore. He had no desire to spend the next several hours or days answering questions and trying to bribe his way out of gaol. He turned towards the far end of the street and heard another whistle coming from that direction. A quick look down the alley showed it to be a dead end, blocked by a warehouse. He looked for a window, but found none not shuttered from the inside. "Where are you going?" the woman asked him. Donovan looked at her in surprise. "Hire me," she said. "I'll send them the wrong way." Donovan took another glance around the street before deciding. "The harbor," he said. "Into the alley then," she replied. He ran into the alley and dropped into a pile of garbage, pulling it over him as best he could. From the street he could hear the pounding of feet and the insistent whistles. "That way!" the woman cried. "Towards the square! In a black coat and wig!" The feet pounded away and Donovan felt the desire to move, to burst from concealment, and quashed it as he had learned to do. He remained as still as possible, eyes closed and face down to the ground, willing his ears to see for him. He heard the slow crunch of footsteps in the alley and tried to relax his muscles to forestall the shaking he knew was about to set in. "They're not gone yet," the woman said quietly. "Someone is interested in this. You're important to them." Donovan was impressed, both by the fact that she knew enough to talk in a low tone without whispering and by her composure. "You had the look of an officer. Are you from a ship?" "Yes." "Can you get me aboard?" "No." The silence stretched for a minute, broken only by faint sounds from the street. "I need to leave this town. Tonight," she insisted. "I agreed to pay you for a night, nothing else," he said to the street beneath his face. "I'm saving your life, sir. I could as easily end it," she pointed out. "You'll not live to collect any reward, lady," he promised. "You'd kill me quick, sir. If I don't get out of town tonight then Ngia will take me and I'll die slowly. I've no wish to fall that far. Keep the money, but only get me away from here," she pleaded quietly. "A night with you will not pay your passage," he countered. "You're a cool one, sir," she said, "to bargain in such straits." She paused. "Very well, I'll work my passage." "With what skills?" "What do you think?" she replied scornfully. "I'll warm your bed, and no other, for the length of the voyage. I pick my destination and I'll depart when arrive." "Is this why you were following me?" he demanded. "You were looking for a chance to get away on a ship?" "You were kind," she said quietly. "To the little girl you ran over. Everyone else would simply have kept on, or given her a curse or a kick for her trouble. I thought a kind man would be a nice change. Yes, and I saw you had money to spare for an urchin and hoped you might spare a little extra for a whore. Do we have a bargain?" "You'll have other chores," he told her. "There are no idlers aboard a ship." "I have only your word to rely upon once I'm aboard your ship," she replied. "Swear to me you'll deal with me with justice and I'll swear to obey you." "Done," he replied. "I so swear." "As do I," she said. "Now remain still. This watchman bids to spend the night in a doorway across the way. I'll occupy him and meet you later. What dock?" "Number twelve. Do you know it?" "No, but I can read." "A ship's boat. We must be gone before dawn, bargain or no." "I'll be there before the horizon grows light. My oath I will," she said grimly. "Now hush." Donovan waited until he heard faint moans issuing from the street. Cautiously he raised his head and scanned the alley. Seeing nothing, he slowly rose and checked to ensure nothing was clinging to the dark red coat. He stepped to the edge of the alley and looked out. The guardsman, a collage of shadows cast by his shuttered lantern, had his back to the mouth of the alley and his cock, apparently, to the mouth of the woman. Donovan slipped out of the alley and walked slowly down the street. When he reached the end he turned and continued on towards the harbor. As he walked he pulled a small flask from his pocket and took a swig. Then, silently cursing necessity, he poured the rest over his jacket and shirt to cover, and explain, the smell of the garbage. Adding a stagger to his step, he made his way to dock twelve. "Sod off you miserable... Christ's Balls! Captain Simms?" "Yes, Simpkins. Thank you for your compliment on my cunning disguise. I had some bother along the way. Are we prepared to depart?" he asked the seaman standing guard on the dock. "At your order, sir. If ye'd care to enter the boat." "Not just yet," he replied, "some unfinished business to attend to." They stood on the dock for an hour. Donovan didn't care to talk and neither of his men presumed to; if the captain wished to remain silent, then they would do so as well. A figure approached out of the darkness, hurrying but not running. "I very much hope you are waiting for me," she said. "I've just spent the past half hour whispering unpleasant truths and lies about a certain pimp to an appreciative watchman. If you leave me here I'll be dead shortly after sunrise." "We're ready to leave now," Donovan told his flabbergasted crewmen. They clambered into the boat and the two crewmen cast loose from the dock before taking up oars. Donovan took the tiller and motioned for the woman to sit on the canvas-covered pile of goods that took up much of the boat. He steered the boat out into the harbor and took a handkerchief from his pocket. "Somewhat the worse for wear I fear. Nonetheless, tie it about your eyes." She caught the handkerchief and held it in her hands, folding it for a comfortable fit. "What ship are we going to?" "The Fool's Errand," he replied. "A pirate ship," she stated. "Privateer," he corrected her. "I hold a letter of marque and a commission from Good Harbor. If you know the Errand then you know her reputation, and mine." She slowly tied the blindfold over her eyes. "If you've any plots to carry out, please do so now," he told her. "Far easier to swim back to shore at this point. So if you have a grenade concealed beneath your skirts go ahead and threaten us now." "If I could afford a grenade I wouldn't be whoring myself on the streets, Captain. I'll trust your word," she replied. The seamen pulled at the oars for a good half-hour until they had passed the breakwater. Donovan lifted a shuttered lamp and flashed a signal at a light in the distance. The light blinked back and he quietly urged the men on. They remained in the longboat as it was hoisted aboard the ship, only exiting once it had been lashed down. A short Oriental approached them. "A special cargo?" the man said, pointing with his head at the woman. "You didn't mention this. Extra risk. Extra money," he concluded with quiet emphasis. "Just a whore I'm transporting, Ping. My cargo is information," Donovan retorted. "Doesn't look like a whore, Simms. I think you've mixed us up in something big. Big is okay, but only if we get paid for big," Captain Ping stated. His crew, Donovan noted, had become watchful, like a dog pack that senses the possibility of a fight and wants to subtly position themselves. His crewmen felt it too, but were too experienced to change their positions and give that knowledge away. "Just a whore, Ping," Donovan repeated, "And a long story, which I'll tell you en-route. But I can see you need some proof. Simpkins," he called. "Sir." "Shag the trollop," Donovan ordered. "Shag the trollop aye, Captain," Simpkins replied. He walked over to the woman and pushed on her back with one hand, pulling at her hip with the other to bend her over. He grabbed her skirts and flipped them up over her back to reveal a firm ass and broad hips, flesh pale in the half-moon. He kept one hand on her hip as he fumbled at the buttons on his pantaloons. "Our bargain, Captain," the woman said softly, but did not move. "Belay that order, Simpkins," Donovan ordered. "Belay shagging the trollop aye, sir," Simpkins replied in a confused tone of voice. "Good man," Donovan said, "but my honors, I believe." He stood in front of the woman and unbuttoned his fly. Pulling out his cock he flipped it up against her face. "Open," he told her. She opened her mouth and he inserted his member. She closed her mouth around him and began to softly suck and lave him with her tongue. He rapidly grew hard and began to slowly pump into her mouth. She began to suck harder at him, audibly slurping. Donovan found the sound very stirring and pulled out of her mouth as he suddenly erupted, spurting cum onto her face. He stroked his cock a few times, milking it before putting it back into her open mouth. "Clean it," he told her. "You see, Ping," he said the man, "just a whore." The man grunted and turned away, snarling at his crew to get to work. Reluctantly, with many a sidelong gaze, the men returned to their work. Simpkins and the other crewman turned to face outward, giving their Captain what privacy there was to be found on the open deck of a large fishing vessel. Donovan contemplated the woman before him as she continued her labors, seeking some explanation for the inconsistencies that nagged at his hindbrain. In the faint moon and lantern light her skin was a ghostly white and she was shaking fiercely, but she carried on nonetheless. With a good deal of skill he noted, for she was using her hands to caress his balls rather than readjusting her skirt to cover her naked bottom. He pulled out of her mouth after a few minutes and tucked his cock back into his pantaloons, buttoning them up as he regarded her. She remained bent over, balancing uncertainly in the gentle swell, and made no motion to cover herself up or to wipe his sticky residue from her face. "Stand up," he told her. "You're no blushing virgin nor yet a jaded whore. You trembled at the doing, but you did it anyway. A fallen lady?" "Hard times force hard choices, Captain," she replied as she smoothed her skirts down. "I was taught to face the wind." "That you apparently were. What is your name, lady? Your real name," he clarified as she opened her mouth. She closed her mouth and then opened it again. "I prefer not to share that with anyone, Captain." Donovan considered this answer for a moment before replying. "Fairly said, and I'll respect your wish on this matter. You'll answer to Lady aboard my ship." "It pleases you to make a hard joke, Captain," Lady responded. "It does," Donovan replied. "Hard times shape us all and I find my humor has grown somewhat grim over the years. We've a short trip ahead of us and you may not remove your blindfold during that time. That piece of deck will serve well enough, so take what comfort you can from it." He remained silent and standing for the next several hours of the trip as he mulled the information his contact had given him. Around him the crew of the fishing vessel went about the never-ending work of keeping a ship afloat and in motion and his own crewmen sprawled comfortably on the deck, albeit watchfully. Lady sat down carefully on the deck and remained silent. At length the Fool's Errand appeared ahead of them and Captain Ping began to maneuver closer to her. When they were but a short distance away he hove his vessel to and they began to make preparations to lower the longboat. Donovan reached down and assisted Lady to her feet. "Time to go, Lady. Into the longboat with the rest of the cargo," he told her. Simpkins and Gupta took her by either arm and assisted her into the longboat. "Lean back against the tarp, Lady," he heard Simpkins advise her, "and pay no mind to how she swings. These boys don't want to look the fool in front of us and they'll set the boat in nicely. But don't touch that blindfold, mind." Ping's crew did indeed put the boat into the water nicely. He pulled a small leather pouch from a pocket on his vest and pressed it into Ping's hand. "My thanks, Captain," he said and then clambered down the side of the vessel and into the longboat. Long poles pushed them away from the side as the crewmen dipped their oars into the water and began to pull for the Fool's Errand. The crew on the Errand was ready for them and made short work of hauling the longboat aboard. Simpkins and Gupta assisted Lady to the deck as Donovan made his own way. Lieutenant Liu saluted him. "Your orders, Captain?" "Make all available sail, Mister Liu. Mister Tran! Give Mister Liu a course for Iria. Best time and outside the normal shipping lanes," Donovan ordered. He looked around the assembled crew until he found the face he expected to see. "Surgeon Brady, your inspection kit if you please." "I have it to hand, Captain," the Hibernian replied. "You could hear the dicks hardening when Midshipman Tran spied the woman aboard the longboat." He stepped forward and stood in front of Lady. He extracted a fine toothed ebony comb and began to run it through Lady's hair. He examined it for signs of lice. Finding none he put the comb aside and ran his fingers behind her ears and down her throat, prodding at her glands. Finding nothing that merited further investigation, he opened her mouth and ran his fingers along her gums and peered at her tongue and teeth. "Already had some use of her, have you Captain?" he asked as he noted the dried semen that still splotched her face and blindfold. "I suppose the health of the Captain's cock is the Captain's business, but I don't know why you bother having me do my work if you don't care what the results are." "Needs must, Doctor, needs must. Finish your work, please," Donovan responded. The Surgeon grunted in obvious disbelief and returned his attention to Lady. "Shuck and show, my fine tart," he said in a bored tone of voice. Lady stood still and the Surgeon frowned. "Drop it," he ordered. "Remove your clothing, Lady," Donovan ordered by way of explanation. The woman visibly steeled herself before slowly beginning the process of undressing herself. "Bear a hand, woman," the Surgeon snapped, "I've other work to do." The last of her clothing removed at last the Surgeon continued his examination, running his hands under her arms to probe her glands. Then he took his comb and ran it through her pubic hair and examined it. He inserted a finger roughly into her vagina and she gasped and winced, but made no other move as he roughly inspected her. Withdrawing, he bent her over and inserted his finger into her anus causing her again to gasp in shock and, Donovan judged, pain. "A nice tight ass," Brady commented, "t'will be Chickendick's delight." The crowd of lingering sailors roared in laughter at the coarse jest, but it only caused Donovan to notice them. "Lay aloft you idlers, and haul in the anchor. We'll be underway by the next bell or you'll see no duff nor rum today," he snapped. The crowd of sailors exploded into the rigging and all about the deck as each man threw himself into the assigned tasks with a will. Donovan turned his attention back to the Surgeon who was now pouring some alcohol onto his hand and then wiping it down with a cloth. "Clean enough, Captain," he reported. "No plague nor pox and yet no signs of fever. She's like to tear a bit when you turn the crew loose on her. Better to find experienced whores, I suggest." "She's not for the crew," Donovan said. "Take her to my cabin, please, draw the blinds and allow her to remove the blindfold. Remain with her until I return, but no touching." "The men will feel hard used," Brady noted. "They'll do as they're told or I'll drag them for shark bait," Donovan replied. The Surgeon shrugged and took her by the elbow. "Lady is it?" he asked sarcastically. "Follow me then, Lady, and mind you don't knock yourself." The Fool's Errand Donovan turned his attention back to the ship and watched as the men went about the process of hauling up the anchor and getting the sails set. When they were moving at the next bell he noted the looks of smug satisfaction on their panting faces and grunted once in approval. The Midshipman emerged from the cabin below with a chart and Donovan went over to see what course he proposed to follow. It was dinner time before the cargo had been settled to Donovan's satisfaction and the crew was finished running through a gunnery drill. He went below to change into more suitable clothing and found the Surgeon sitting in a chair drinking brandy and whistling a jig. Lady, still unclothed, sat in another chair with the table between them. She was sitting, he noted, as far away from the Surgeon as she possibly could. "Thank you Doctor, that will be all," he said. The man drained the remainder of the brandy in a quick gulp and exited. "He's an abrasive and unpleasant fellow," Donovan commented, "but I've found no better surgeon. If you're injured you'll quickly forgive him his faults." "Will I be injured?" she asked quietly. "I make no promises," he replied. "I'm not a man as enjoys beating his women, so you'll not suffer on that account. But a ship is a dangerous world and a privateer more so. The longer you're aboard, the greater the chances. Where will you be leaving us?" "I haven't decided," she said. After a moment of thought Donovan laughed. "Aye! A clever bargain you struck with me, Lady. You've bed and board and work until you name a port and we reach it. My life is worth the bargain and my honor is good, so I'll take the short end of the stick with good humor. I'll work you hard, mind, and you may discover that a ship at sea can be a living hell. Stand up and let's have a look at you." "You had a fine look at me afore," she commented as she stood up, "And your crew as well." Donovan noted the tone. "You feel hazed. Well, any whore brought aboard must first be inspected as you were, and I'll not stick my cock into a poxy slut. The crew saw you and they'll see more of you, for a ship is a small world. You'll learn." As he continued undressing he examined her. She was of medium height with dark hair that made her skin seem all the fairer. Her body was lush, trim and firm with broad hips and large breasts. Even in the darkened cabin he could see sweat beading on her flesh and the beat of her heart at her throat. "Shall I bend over for you?" she asked in a bitter tone. "Later," he replied. He finished undressing and began to pull on work clothing. It took him but a minute to finish this and then he walked over to the window and drew back the curtains to let in the sunlight and threw them open to let in the breeze. "Come here," he commanded. She approached him hesitantly at first, then resignedly. He turned her around and quickly slipped a pair of manacles about her wrists. He took her by the shoulders and guided her down onto a cushion on the floor. "You don't seem concerned," he noted. "A woman such as yourself would bring a high price at the flesh market in Good Harbor." She shrugged. "If you were going to break your word, Captain, you would have done so back on Captain Ping's vessel. And if you were minded to make me a slave you'd hardly let me know this early in the voyage. I presume you have business on deck and don't care to leave me unrestrained and alone in your cabin." Donovan's expression did not change, for he had far too much experience dickering with Oriental merchants, but he felt the surprise that lifted his stomach. He had not expected her to reach the correct conclusion so quickly. For the first time he found himself really looking at this woman, and he found himself intrigued by her. "Correct. We sometimes have female supercargo and I prefer to not place them in the brig with their male counterparts. You should be comfortable enough. The steward will be in shortly with dinner." He checked, again, to be certain that nothing but the chamber pot was within her reach and then went up on deck. Bosun Hartz and Midshipman Tran were standing behind Seaman Gupta, who was holding the wheel. The ship was making good speed and the port hull was starting to lift out of the water. Even as he thought of it, Tran ordered the idlers and the Port Watch into the port netting. The bosun supervised, which meant he glared at his men, daring them to make a mistake, as members of the Starboard Watch lowered the portside net structure until it extended out from the ship. The idlers and Port Watch clambered into it to provide additional counter-weighting against the force of the wind. "Twelve knots, Captain," Tran called out, "and a following wind along our course. Perhaps the lady is good luck." Donovan winced, inwardly, at those words as he climbed the steps to the poop deck. Seamen were more superstitious than most and chance words could set events in motion. Tran was a good seaman, and would make a good mate aboard a merchant vessel, but he lacked a certain measure of common sense in some regards. "Make it clear to the crew, Bosun, that the lady is for my use only. And when they complain you can tell them a funny story. On my way back to the ship I was set upon. I killed them, but someone called for the watch. In the midst of this the lady propositioned me. We struck a quick bargain, passage for her and misdirection for me. She sent the watch on a fool's chase and distracted one that made to stay longer. So now I'm honor bound to transport her to a port of her choice, in my own time, and she's bound to warm my bed and work aboard ship." The Bosun guffawed at that and then commented, "T'e'll still be mad, Captain, dat you not give her to t'em, but t'e laugh take t'e sting outta t'eir mad. Und you always do right by us, Captain, so next time we make port t'ey forget und forgive evert'ing." Donovan nodded and took another look around the ship. "Will you join me for dinner this evening, Mister Tran?" "Of course, Captain." "Good. We'll discuss my plan for the next few weeks," Donovan told him and then wandered forward to take a look around. When Donovan made his way down below he found Giuseppe setting the food upon the table. "What's our fare for this evening, Giuseppe?" he asked. "Fresh food, Captain," the large man replied. "I stir-fried the vegetables with that chicken and boiled some rice to put it on. And I cut up the fruit and tossed it with some sugar and rum and lime juice. I think you will like it." "I always enjoy your cooking, Giuseppe, you know that," Donovan said and clapped the man on the shoulder. "Yes sir, Captain. You always say that. And I try to keep doing a good job so you will keep on saying that. I made the men a rum raisin duff, Captain, so they won't be so mad about the lady. But Mister Tran thinks maybe she's good luck, so maybe I should have saved the raisins and rum." "It was a good thought, Giuseppe, and the men will like it. Thank you." "Yes sir. I'll go get the officers, Captain." The big man limped out of the cabin, closing the door behind him. "Why will your crew be mad about me?" Lady asked. Donovan grunted once and crossed the room to her and began to unlock the manacles. "Because when I bring whores aboard ship I normally do so for the benefit of my crew. In the normal course of affairs they would expect to have their turn with you. We've been away from friendly ports for the past two months and they certainly feel the lack of women. It'll sit poorly with them to have a woman around and not have access to her. At least prize women are going to get them some money. You'll get them nothing but blue balls." He pointed to the pile of her clothing that was on his bed. "Dress yourself. A shift will be fine, you'll just sweat in more. We'll be dining in a minute and I expect the others soon." There was a knock on the door and the Surgeon stuck his head in. "Not interrupting anything I trust?" he said. "Not at all, Doctor," Donovan replied. "Lady was just dressing for dinner. Come in." Another knock announced the presence of Liu and Tran who, accustomed to having free access to the cabin, entered immediately afterward and crossed to stand behind their chairs. Donovan walked over to his seat at the head of the table and motioned for Lady to take the seat next to the Doctor and across from the Midshipman. They sat when Donovan sat and he offered a brief prayer of thanks for the food. Brady, he knew, was a fallen Catholic and Liu and Tran were both Buddhists, but it was his table and his custom. Giuseppe lumbered into the room the moment he was finished with the thanks and began to serve out the food. "Is the sailing always this rough, Captain?" Lady asked as she watched her food slide to one side of the deep plate in response to the tilt of the deck. Tran and the Doctor laughed openly while Liu smiled, which was for him the equivalent. "This is smooth sailing, Lady," Tran told her. "When the weather is bad we'll eat cold meals when we've time to eat at all." "It's as the Midshipman says, Lady. We're like to have good weather for the next few days after that storm front came through; which is the crux of my plan, as it happens. We'll head for the Bedanaka Straits and look for survivors of the storm. We're like to find some lost sheep with tattered sails and no cannons," Donovan stated. "The men will be happy if that's the case, Captain," Tran said. "I've heard them complaining about the lack of success we've had on this voyage." "The men complain because it is their habit, custom, and wont, Mister Tran," Donovan replied. "They only understand money when it is in their pocket. This trip has been far more profitable than our last voyage because it will make our next few voyages successful." "You had good fortune with your contacts then?" Liu asked. "Very. A convoy of ships from Anglia sails for Cook's Land colony. They will pass through later this month and we will have a reception for them." "Their cargo?" the Doctor asked. "A dog's breakfast," Donovan replied, "settlers, weapons, and machinery for the most part. I am informed they are setting up a manufactory to produce rifled cannon. Good Harbor would be very interested in preventing this." "And in getting their hands on the workers," the Doctor pointed out. "That too. We shall see how it plays out." "What sort of an escort do they have?" asked the ever practical Liu. "Four frigates. Some of the merchants will be armed, of course. Cook's Land is sending out a squadron to escort them. I have the rendezvous coordinates, so we'll be able to lay in some surprises before they arrive." "Ambitious, and profitable," the Doctor observed, "if we survive." "That's as it may be," Donovan stated. Liu and Tran nodded. When the dinner was concluded Donovan again locked Lady in the manacles and went topside to observe Lieutenant Liu setting the Dog Watch and to assign Midshipman Tran a set of observations to shoot during the night. Giuseppe had finished clearing away the dishes when he returned and the cabin was empty but for Lady. He took her out of her manacles. "If you've need of the chamber pot, use it now," he told her. She squatted to pee and wiped herself with a small piece of wet cloth before she returned the pot to its holder. Then she stood, uncertain of what to do next. He took her by the arm and indicated the narrow bed. She crawled into it and lay down upon her back. He took a length of rope and tied it about one ankle. The other end of the rope he secured to a corner of the bed. "No manacles?" she asked. "I'm unaccustomed to having supercargo in my bed," he told her. "I do my wenching ashore." She watched him as he undressed. "I thought..." she stopped. "Rape and plunder?" he asked. "Common enough, but not aboard my vessel. I've no taste for it and don't tolerate it amongst my crew. Once they begin to anticipate an orgy of sex and violence there's no keeping discipline; they become slaves to their lusts." He laid the last of his clothing aside and crawled onto the bed. She spread her legs and he slipped between them and lay atop her. "Why were you so eager to leave Williamport?" he asked. "I had been making my way as best I could," she told him. "There's honest work for women, but it pays enough to make them dishonest. So I supplemented my earnings with the occasional man. I could be choosy, and I was. Then a panderer called Ngia took an interest in me. Tried to woo me at first, but I would have none of it. Then I found myself unemployed and I suspected Ngia had slandered me to my employer. He confirmed it, and told me that I was to bring him money every night or he would use his knife upon me. I believed him. So I became a whore. For three days and nights. And then I encountered you." As she spoke his hands traced over her face and he pressed his cock against her, pushing but not entering. He felt her breasts pressed against his chest, heart thumping through the firm flesh, and the muscles at her flanks were twitching lightly. "You never learned to suck a man that well in three days, even with the occasional man," he told her, his eyes fixed upon hers. She tried to turn her face away, but he wouldn't let her. "I was... my family's shame. I tumbled a... young man when I was younger and I've always enjoyed sex. I had access to men of experience and they taught me." He pressed the head of his cock into her and held it there, curious as to what her reaction would be. She exhaled and arched her back pressing her body up against him. "They threw you out?" "No. Not really. My father could never bring himself to that. Even with my behavior he always loved me, doted on me. He was disappointed, but said I had at least the sense to be discreet and to pick decent men. No, my family suffered a misfortune that left me without support." "I sense more to that story," he told her, "and I see your unwillingness to discuss it more. So be it." "Thank you," she told him. She pushed her hips up against him, seeking to draw him deeper inside her. "I enjoy sex," she said. "Women aren't supposed to. Pleasure is a sin, you know. But I've always enjoyed it, with the exception of the last several days with those coarse animals in William Port. Take some time with me, have a little care for my pleasure, be kind to me, and I'll give you everything you want; I'll do anything you want." He thrust into her, burying himself inside her hot flesh. She gasped, throwing her head back, and then pressed her body against him with a satisfied moan. She wrapped her free leg around his ass and her arms around his back. Lifting her head she sucked at his neck as he began to slowly move within her. "Like that," she whispered in a husky voice. "Just like that." She ground her hips up into him with each slow thrust and Donovan felt his body trying to go faster. He kept it in check, however, and kept the pace, slowly doling out pleasure to her and to himself. He could feel every muscle in her body tensing when he drove into her, her flesh clung to his cock like wet silk and her lips were fastened to his neck. He pushed into her until he bottomed out and she whimpered, then he kept to the pace, rocking her body to rub her clitoris against his belly. She took several gasping breaths as her body shook beneath him. He waited for a minute as she composed herself and then began to slowly pump into her. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. "More?" she whispered happily. Donovan increased his tempo this time, moving at a slightly faster pace. She was looser and wetter so their bodies made squelching noises as they joined and parted. He dropped his mouth to her neck, sucking hard at her sweaty flesh. She moaned quietly in time to his thrusts and clenched herself around him each time he withdrew and relaxed to afford him entry each time he thrust home. In minutes she came again, screaming loudly into his chest. Donovan withdrew from her trembling body and turned her over onto her belly, pulling her hips back to elevate them. Panting she looked back at him. "Still?" she asked in a tone of surprise. Donovan thrust into her and began to work her body back and forth on his shaft. His hands clasped tightly to her hips, slamming her ass back against her belly with a wet slapping sound. He kept this up until he felt that she was doing it for him and then leaned forward to run a hand beneath her belly. His fingers found her clitoris and circled down over it each time she pulled forward. She began to moan in time to his thrusts again, her anticipation writ large in her cries, and he reached his free hand down to her hair, pulling back on her head to arch her body. His fingers, dripping wet, circled her clitoris as he thrust hard into her, once, twice, again, and then came. She cried out and he felt her silken muscles spasming upon him. She collapsed beneath him, body heaving as she tried to breathe. He rose from the bed and took a pair of manacles from the wall. Returning to the bed, he pulled her arms into the small of her back and attached them to her wrists. He crawled onto the bed and lay down next to her. She snuggled up to him, laying her head upon his shoulder. "Where were you three days ago when I might have avoided the horrors of walking the streets of Williamport? Oh exactly like that, Captain. Just so. I will be very good for you," she panted. "Quiet. Lick me clean and then go to sleep." She shifted her body, awkwardly, and lowered her mouth to his semi-flaccid member. He watched her fade into the gathering darkness and pondered what he was going to do about the emotions he was feeling. Midshipman Tran woke him for the Black Watch with a touch to his shoulder. Donovan acknowledged his summons by sitting bolt upright. Lady's head, resting on his belly, slid off and she stirred, adjusted her position, and continued sleeping. He dressed quickly in the darkness and went out of the cabin and up the stairs to the main deck and up another set to the poop deck. "Report, Lieutenant," he said quietly. "Course and speed are constant, Captain. The barometer continues to rise. No weather. All correct," Liu reported. "Very well, set the Dark Watch." "Set t'e Dark Watch aye, Captain," Bosun Hartz replied. "Check t'e rigging t'e lot of ye, one of t'ems loose because I loose' it myself." "Gupta, take the wheel," Donovan ordered. "Take the wheel aye, Captain," Gupta replied. Donovan turned the wheel over to the man and went to make his first entry in the log book. The weather log was so named because it was exposed to the weather. There were two of them, one for each watch. Made of wooden boards with a recess for wax on each 'page' the weather logs were annotated at fifteen minute intervals and then copied into the ship's log at the conclusion of each watch. Donovan idly wondered whether Liu would wake Lady up when he struck a light in the cabin. His entry completed he turned his attention to Midshipman Tran and the readings he had taken. He checked the younger man's work and found nothing wrong. He told the man so and sent him below. It was hotter below than above, but an officer could not sleep with the rest of the off-duty watch in the portside netting. He took a walk about the ship for the next several bells, doing a general inspection and thinking. The woman was just a damned whore, when all was said and done, but... And that was what gave him pause. She was smart enough to make a good bargain and cool enough to do it in dangerous circumstances. Not a classical beauty in any sense, she was nonetheless attractive, pleasant to look at and a pleasure to listen to. She was also good in bed. His body desired her and his mind instinctively acted contrary to what his body wanted. He had long ago learned that the body desired naught but comfort and had steeped himself in the self discipline of denial. The Fool's Errand "A whore and trouble," he muttered to himself. It was true and he knew it, but he also knew he didn't care. He nodded at the Bosun and went below to the cabin. Striking a light he lit a shuttered lantern and sat down in the stifling heat to pore over the charts. Idly his mind wandered through scenarios of wind and wave as he pondered the most likely places to find new targets. Every fifteen minutes he rose, went topside to take readings and annotate the weather log, and returned to the cabin. When the muffled bell rang for the Dawn Watch, he rose and went topside again. He gave Lieutenant Liu an adjusted course and turned the ship over to him. Returning to the cabin, he set about entering the contents of the weather log into the ship's log. Then he heated a scraper and set about preparing the weather log for the next shift. Only when this was done did he douse the light, open the curtains, strip off his clothing and climb into bed. The sun was already climbing high into the sky when Giuseppe woke him. "Good morning, Captain, it's time for the first watch. Good morning, Lady." "Good morning, Giuseppe," Lady said. "Thank you, Giuseppe," said Donovan. "You're courteous too," she said. "What?" "You're polite. You say 'please' and 'thank you'. I confess I have not met many men of your like, Captain. May I please use the chamber pot? I desperately need to go." Donovan undid her manacles and untied her ankle. She scrambled lightly off the bed and squatted to pee in the chamber pot. "You were embarrassed by that last evening," he pointed out. "I was," she said. "But now I'm not." She wiped herself and stood. "Will there be breakfast?" she asked. "Eventually, but not at present," he replied. "I confess I find myself puzzled by what to do with you." "You had no hesitations in that regard last night," she countered with a faint, but cunning, smile. Despite the problem before him, literally, and his cultivated poker face, he smiled. "And therein lies the root of the problem. We're about to turn to all hands for exercise and cleaning. You should be a part of both, but you have no clothing suitable for these tasks. I've no moral qualms about ordering you above in your present state, but it would inflame the crew," he explained as he continued to ponder the possible courses of action. "I'll do as you order, of course," she replied. "Hang caution," he declared. "Lay above, Lady. As you are." She looked him in the eye for a long moment and then walked out of the cabin. Donovan followed her up the stairs to the main deck and then proceeded alone to the poop deck. "Turn to, Bosun," he ordered quietly. "Turn to aye, Captain," the Bosun replied. He turned away from the Captain and faced forward. "All hands on deck! Turn to ye laggards!" Men scrambled out of the portside netting as the off-duty watch made their way to the deck and the on-duty watch, less the helmsman and lookout aloft, joined them. "Good morning my fine Jacks," Donovan said. "Good morning, Captain," the assembled men roared back. "You've all heard of our supercargo I hope. Have you also heard of how she came to be aboard?" There was a cacophony of coarse chuckles and leering whistles. "Ah, you have heard. We'll see if she thinks her bargain cheap when we deliver her to her destination. But as you have heard the tale you know that I made my bargain on my honor. She'll rut with no one but me and if you make a sham of my honor I'll drag you for shark bait. My oath on that. Some of you will feel hard done by for I'm breaking my own rule as regards women aboard ship. Well it's my damn ship and I'll do as I please. If you still feel poorly towards me when next we make port then you can take your wages and your shares and find a new berth." He swept his gaze through the crowd, meeting the eyes of each man until he found acceptance in them. "We'll begin with exercise, Bosun," he said. Faintly he heard one man joke to a shipmate about how he'd like to take his exercise. The comment was followed by a dull smacking noise and the unmistakable rumble of Giuseppe instructing him to mind his manners. "Exercise aye, Captain," the Bosun replied. "Get your gear und make ready!" he bellowed. "Stand well to forward, Lady, at t'e back o' t'e formation where t'ey won' be starin' at you tits or twat." The men pulled spare belay pins from the sides and arranged themselves on the main deck facing the poop deck. The brass pins, two feet long and tapering from one and a half inches to one inch, weighed about ten pounds each, which was one of the reasons Donovan had selected them instead of wood. They made handy weapons and, holding one in each hand, good exercise weights. "No pins for you, Lady," the Bosun rumbled. "Ready, und...." The leather-lunged sailor led them through a calisthenics season that had them dropping sweat onto the deck in short order. The men faced aft along the main deck while the officers faced forward on the poop deck. From this lofty position Donovan could see the entire crew and Lady. She quickly fell behind in the pace, but never stopped exercising. When the session was over the Bosun ordered the men to begin cleaning the topside of the ship. They broke up into small parties, self organizing, when a cry came from the lookout. "Sail ho!" "Where away?" Donovan snapped out. "Four points to starboard," the lookout replied. "Can you make her out?" Donovan asked even as Midshipman Tran was slapping a spyglass into his hand. "A pair of single hulls close together. They're not showing any sail, Captain." Donovan stepped to the starboard side of the deck and searched the sea until he found the ships. "All hands to battle stations if you please, Bosun," he said conversationally. "They're flying Cook's Land colors," he told the officers clustered around him as the Bosun roared orders at the crew. "They've damage to the rigging, sprung masts and broken spars. Sails are tatters. I think we've found some battered pigeons." "Run up our colors, Mister Liu, and let's see what they're made of," he ordered. "Bring us three points to starboard, helmsman, we'll approach on the weather gauge." "Three points to starboard aye, Captain," the helmsman replied. "Colors up aye, Captain," Lieutenant Liu replied. Donovan felt the ship shifting beneath his feet and kept the glass trained upon the distant ships. He saw a lookout shouting down to the deck below and figures rushing to the railing. "They've seen us," he commented. "Will you be wanting the guns, Captain?" Tran asked. "By all means, Midshipman, a good drill if nothing else. Starboard side guns deploy but do not load," Donovan replied. "Starboard side guns deploy but do not load aye, Captain," the man confirmed. He stepped away from the group, yelling for the Master Gunner. "Are they arming, Captain?" Liu asked quietly. "I've seen no sign of it," Donovan said. "They appear to be talking amongst themselves." The question tugged at a part of Donovan's conscious until it had his attention. "Lady! Get below!" he ordered. "No idlers on my deck during action!" "Ah, now they've decided upon a course of action," he muttered as the figures aboard the ships, after much wild gesticulation, scattered. After a moment he grinned and then called out orders. "Their britches are brown, my boys, for they've hoisted a white flag. Starboard guns load two, and the bow chaser. Break open the arms locker and prepare to board." Around him he heard people responding to him, both verbally and physically. He kept his eye upon the approaching vessels, carefully looking for some sign of deceit, but he saw none. Instead he saw a line of dispirited souls clustering along the rails to watch the Fool's Errand approaching. He passed the glass to Midshipman Tran and took the padded coat and weapons baldric the young man had brought. Glancing down he saw Lady standing almost at the upper plank of the steps leading down below. "Bosun, get that slut into my cabin and into chains!" he bellowed. Hartz roared an obscenity laden order at two men who hustled Lady below. They re-emerged from below decks as Donovan finished throwing the weapon baldric over his shoulder and took the glass back from Tran. He quickly re-acquired the ships and scanned them. "They've the look of supercargo and seamen," he muttered, "but not an officer amongst them." Lieutenant Liu, standing at the helm, began bellowing orders. The few seamen not standing by the guns or ready to board began slipping lines to loose the sails. The ship slowed quickly as it approached the two ships. This close it was readily apparent that the ships had been heavily damaged in the storm. Donovan picked up the hailer from beside the wheel and put it to his mouth. "This is the Fool's Errand out of Good Harbor. Surrender or be taken," he called out. There was a commotion aboard the other ship and then a voice called back. "We surrender." A little over an hour later the crews of the Pretty Nancy and Loyola were well in hand. A selection of men from the Fool's Errand were put on each ship and their numbers filled out with a few of the original crew. The rest of the crew were placed in one brig on the Errand and the ships officers and supercargo in another. The Pretty Nancy turned out to be carrying a merchant and his wife. Donovan had the woman chained up in his cabin. A survey of the vessels showed that much of their cargo had been tossed overboard during the storm, along with their few cannon. The crews had been able to make good the hulls and pump out the worst of the flooding, but their sails had been shredded. The crew had been engaged in cobbling together some sail from the canvas remnants and had sent off the captain of the Pretty Nancy with some crew in a longboat to seek assistance. Donovan took the two ships in tow and put his crew to work fashioning some sails from the spare canvas the Errand carried. This done he set a course for Good Harbor. The crew were in good spirits to have found good prizes with no fighting and the prospect of prize liberty in their home port made them approach the hardest tasks with a real will. It amused and annoyed Donovan that they were half-attributing this good fortune to Lady's presence and not to his planning. Which brought another matter to mind. He descended into the main cabin and began to remove the padded coat he wore during battle. He glared at Lady who began to speak. "Not a word," he snapped. "I'll deal with you tomorrow when I am no longer angry. Keep your tongue unless you'd deal with me now in anger." She nodded her head and sat back on the cushion beneath her. "I'm afraid quarters are cramped, Mrs. Pemberton," he addressed the woman sitting next to Lady. He had ordered her stripped down to her shift and she was looking apprehensive, but not as much as most, he noted. "Placing you in my cabin avoids any incidents that might occur if you were kept in the brig. And I assure you my cabin is a far more pleasant place. You will not be molested and will be subjected to a minimum of indignities. I am far more interested in your ransom than your body. You'll see your husband once a day, on deck, when you bathe. He has also accepted my invitation to dinner tonight." "What will become of us?" she asked. "Imprisonment in Good Harbor until you are ransomed," he replied. "Perhaps slavery if no ransom can be obtained, but I deal only with reputable brokers, so slavery is unlikely, unless your family has a particular desire to see you disappear?" "No. No!" she said. "Our family will pay any ransom within their means." "Then you have nothing to fear," he told her. "Try to think of this as a broadening experience; an adventure. It will smooth the bumps in your road home." "They said we were safe surrendering to you, the crew I mean. Lieutenant Anderson wanted to fight you. But the crew refused." "Probably the wise thing to do," Donovan said. "I wouldn't have closed without a surrender and if he had tried a ruse under those circumstances things would be very different. You'd be chained in the focsle, to begin with, and not wearing that shift. The crew would be swimming and your ships would be burning." The woman turned as pale as the canvas the Fool's Errand flew and swallowed nervously. "Thankfully we are meeting under far more pleasant circumstances," he continued. "We will take an early dinner this evening to allow for the fact that my crew and myself will be working very hard this evening. It isn't often we have one ship in tow and I have never had two ships in tow. Lady will show you how to use the chamber pot, if need be. I'll return shortly." Donovan returned topside and passed orders on to Gupta. With the Bosun on the most damaged vessel and the Master Gunner on the other prize he had put the Punji man in charge of the focsle. Simpkins was twice the sailor, but utterly lacking in command skills. In this way Gupta would order something done and Simpkins would see to the doing of it. Giuseppe, of course, had remained aboard the Errand. He, and two other crewmen, escorted the remaining officers from the prizes to the cabin and then began to bring in the food. "Captain Worthington-Hampston, is it not?" he addressed the portly, self-important man seated to his right. "I am," he admitted. "Welcome aboard the Fool's Errand, Captain. I congratulate you on surviving the storm and thank you for surrendering. The situation was hopeless and needless bloodshed would have angered me. As a token of my thanks I'll ensure each of you gentlemen receives a rum ration during our transit. I will also set your ransoms low. The brokers will, of course, raise them after purchasing your parole, but it's all I can do." "You could stop being a thief and return us to our ships," stated one of the younger men. Donovan smiled tolerantly at him. "Lieutenant Anderson, I believe?" He continued without waiting for an answer. "I am not a thief. I hold a Captain's commission from Good Harbor and a valid letter of marque. Your vessels were flying the flag of Cook's Land and, a state of conflict being in effect between our nations, were seized. All in accordance with the laws of war." "Good Harbor is a nest of thieves," the man spat out. "The government of Anglia and Cook's Land does not recognize your sovereignty or your commission or your letter. You are a thief and a pirate." "I am not, though I imagine that if I had been captured by you I would not be sitting down to a rather nice meal at the moment. But you'll have to be on the winning side the next time we meet in order for your opinion to matter." Donovan sat down. "You may be seated, Lieutenant." Flushing dark red the Lieutenant sat. "Aren't you going to let the lady eat with us?" Mrs. Pemberton demanded. "I am not," Donovan replied. "Lady is a passenger aboard the Errand. She is a voluntary passenger, unlike yourselves, and has not yet learned the niceties of shipboard discipline. She is confined until Captain's Mast tomorrow. What is the news from the Sandwich Islands, Mrs. Pemberton?" The lady looked at her husband and the Captain of the Loyola in surprise. "He read the log, Mrs. Pemberton," the Captain explained. "Failing that he could have looked at our cargo. It's hardly a secret." He looked at Donovan. "Things go well there, Captain. I will not discuss details of shipping with you, but perhaps Mrs. Pemberton will be kind enough to regale you with the social happenings." Mrs. Pemberton was willing, and they spent the next hour listening to her relate news and gossip from the Islands. Through the evening Giuseppe efficiently kept their wineglasses full and the food came in small courses. Donovan drew the evening to a close by summoning crewmen to return the officers to the brig. Mrs. Pemberton he personally secured and then went above. It was a long night, made tiring by an inconstant breeze which changed directions frequently and required the crew to constantly adjust sails. It died away altogether near morning and Donovan set most of the crewmen to working on the sails. By the time the sun rose they had sufficient canvas to raise a scratch sail plan on the Pretty Nancy. Donovan turned the Nancy over to Lieutenant Liu and the crew heaved at the capstan to bring the Loyola under tow. By mid-afternoon matters stood to Donovan's satisfaction and he gave leave for the men, less a two man watch, to eat. When they were finished he called all hands to the main deck. "It's Sunday," he announced, "but we'll have no day of rest 'til we make Good Harbor. Captain's Mast is convened. Are there any complaints?" He swept the crowd with his eyes and found none with an issue to raise. "Very well then, bring up Lady." Two of the men went below and brought Lady up, each of them with a hand upon an arm, though he noticed they treated her deferentially. "Lady, you ignored my order to go below during the late action. Do you deny this?" She shook her head, not entirely certain of what was going on. "I do not, Captain. I have not been long at sea and I have never seen a battle. I was curious." "Under the articles of this vessel, the regulations of the port of Good Harbor, and common custom this is a capital crime. I note, however, that you had no ill intention, caused no real difficulty, and were largely ignorant of your transgression. Therefore I will be lenient and sentence you to ten lashes across the back." The crew murmured amongst themselves at this pronouncement. "Bosun?" Donovan asked. "Does the crew have a comment to make?" The Bosun consulted with the men for a moment and then stepped forward. "It seems ill done to flog our fortune, Captain. We do not dispute t'e offence, but question t'e sent'nce." "Your fortune is she?" Donovan asked. "Very well, as she's your fortune there'll be no duff 'til we make the harbor. If she errs again then every man will share her blame. And I'll be satisfied with no less than five lashes." The crew looked a little glum at this pronouncement, but the leaders amongst them were resolved and so they all were after a moment. "We make a cat, Captain," the Bosun replied. "String her to t'e main mast," the man ordered the sailors. Lady looked appalled, but her escorts moved her along to the main mast and made her hands fast to it, above her head. Donovan noticed one of them slipping a piece of leather into her mouth, but made no complaint. Slipping a favored crewmate a piece of leather to bite down on during a flogging was a tradition as old as the punishment itself. The Bosun accepted a cat o' nine tails, freshly prepared, from one of the crew. Even from the poop deck the bundle of ropes, each with a knot in the end, looked fairly insubstantial and Donovan would swear that some of the strands were silk rope. This, too, was an old custom, and one he could do something about if he chose. He knew he should, yet he held his tongue and merely nodded at the Bosun. The man drew back and brought the lash forward to impact upon Lady's back. The ropes dragged as they struck creating lines of raw flesh. Lady flinched and put her head to the mast. The next stroke came quickly from the opposite side as the Bosun made a figure eight pattern with his hand that quickly brought the beating to a conclusion. Lady was shaking fiercely and her back was covered in angry red lines. "Surgeon!" Donovan barked. Brady took his time down the steps, which earned him glares from some of the crew, but he was professional in his examination of her back. "Welts," he called to the Captain, "and not a single scratch of the skin. The Bosun's given her a caress." "Punishment is sufficient," Donovan decreed. "Take her to my cabin."