The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sophia, Sabetha and Constance hurried up the gangplank on to the caravel ‘Tanith’. The ship was of moderate size among those that plied the freshwater Latchader Sea and Sophia was pleased because it meant that it could ride the waves without too much of the motion being transmitted to passengers like herself. She, like Sabetha and Constance, was a lady-in-waiting from Kerans, the capital of Princess Dalia’s domain on Xylae. They had travelled overnight on a passenger barge, downstream from the capital to Furtal, the main port on the Mosair delta. As the other two hurried across the deck to gaze at the other ships in the harbour, Sophia turned back to look at the porters they had hired to bring their luggage on board. There were three large chests, one for each of them, plus an assortment of bags of things they would need for the five-day voyage.

The three women had jumped at the opportunity that their employer, the Duchess of Herill had offered. Her daughter, recently married to the Marquess of Jarator, was keen to establish her own household. Apparently she thought little of the young women available in Jarator itself, after all, it was a comparatively new colony, and so had written to her mother begging she spare a handful of more suitably-trained ladies from her extensive staff. The duchess, whilst she loved her daughter, was keen that she develop as her own mistress and had compromised by calling for volunteers from among her staff, three ladies had come forward.

For Sophia and her friends this was a rare chance. As some of the youngest on the staff, it could be years of rivalry with the more established ladies before any of them attained any status in the duchess’s household. In contrast, in Jarator they would be big fish in a small pool, no doubt, from the outse, put in charge of the less sophisticated local ladies. In addition, this relocation provided them the opportunity to see a little of the world: they would travel across the great inland sea to lands which, only in the last couple of decades, had been carved from wilderness. Though they knew Kerans and sometimes travelled to their lady’s estate in Herill, life at the court was pretty stifling. The duchess was pleasant enough, not cruel like some of the noble women, but ageing and that meant few entertainments and many early nights for the women who worked for her. They imagined her daughter’s house would be that much more lively.

Their excitement that morning had been what had delayed them once they had arrived in Furtal and Sophia realised that they were pretty late in coming on board. The ship was scheduled to leave on the high tide and Sophia, the most organised of the three, knew that that was probably less than an hour away.

“Good morning. You must be from the Duchess of Herill’s household.”

Sophia turned to the source of the voice. She guessed that the smartly dressed man in a heavy coat and breeches was the captain. He was younger than she had expected, probably just entering his forties, and, in the place of the beard she had anticipated, he was clean-shaven.

“Good morning, erm, Captain Othal.” Sophia was pleased she had remembered his name. “Yes, I’m Sophia and my friends,” she turned to indicate the other two, “the dark-haired one is Sabetha and the shorter, red-head is Constance.”

Othal bowed briefly. “I welcome you to my ship. Whilst I’ll be busy on this voyage, I have asked that my second lieutenant, Abtyr Srelan look after you, please speak to him if there is anything you need. I’ll introduce you to him at the noon meal.”

Sophia returned the bow with a curtsey. “Thank you.”

Whilst she looked forward to some excitement, she knew it was always good to have trust in the people who were taking you towards it. She dismissed the warnings that some of the older ladies-in-waiting had given her about lusty sailors and saw that they were really just like businessmen and workmen of the kind she would encounter out on errands for the duchess in Kerans.

“Your lady has arranged some additional protection for you, I believe?”

“Erm, she said something about it. A bond or something.”

“Yes, a bondwoman has been hired as your bodyguard. Have you been in contact with her here in Furtal?”

“No, no I have not. Lady Geraldina, she oversees myself and my friends in our duties in the house, well, she said that that was not something we had to worry about. Our guard would meet us here.”

“I’m hoping she’ll be here before …”

Othal let his words tail off as three women appeared at the dockside riding on two horses. Each of them wore glistening black tight-fitting clothes and long boots. Two of them had helmets and cloaks and swords were obvious at their belts. Sophia could tell that they were women as their rubber-coated armour had breast protectors. The woman who rode behind one of the others initially looked the same, but the closer Sophia observed, the more differences she saw. The woman’s long blonde hair fell freely down her back. Whilst she too was clad from neck to toe in rubber, her clothes were different, they lacked the rigidity of the armour and instead clung to her like a second skin. As she stepped down from the horse she had been sat on behind one of the armed women, Sophia could see that this woman’s boots, though also thigh-length, were very different, instead of flat heels, hers were long and sharp. Then, as the women handed over their hired horses to the agent on the wharf, Sophia noticed the leash running from the hand of the armed one who she took to be the leader to the collar of the blonde. Whilst the duchess had no sex-slaves of her own, Sophia had seen a number from a distance being paraded behind their owners through the streets of Kerans and she realised that the woman the duchess had hired to protect the three ladies, was an owner herself.

“Ah, I see they have arrived. That is good.”

The three black-clad women strode up the gangplank and Othal signalled for it to be pulled clear. The younger warrior carried a number of large bags, a couple of spears and quivers of arrows leading Sophia to marvel at her strength. The senior bondwoman had her own bow and quiver across her back. One feature, which this woman uniquely had and that forced Sophia to avert her eyes, was the large black rod extending from her crotch. She guessed this was some kind of assertion of this fighting woman’s strength in a male-dominated world, and given that the younger woman lacked one, it might also be some kind of peculiar insignia of rank.

The three women immediately came across to Othal and Sophia. “Good morning Captain Othal. I am Captain Anya Tricorus, this is my apprentice, Ensign Netali Rebtasj and my slave, Sharee.”

“Welcome aboard. I presume you are those who have been hired to guard the Duchess of Herill’s party.”

“Yes, that is the case.” The bondwoman’s attention shifted to Sophia and she bowed. “I have to apologise for our tardiness. I was only assigned three days ago: the original captain was injured in Kerans last week. I was taking my apprentice to our citadel at Serafold, we can take ship there from Jarator.”

“I have assigned you the fore merchant’s quarters, it is close to where your charges are lodged and it has a cage as I anticipated you might have some human possessions.” Othal explained.

“Thank you captain, very thoughtful. Sharee will be happier caged in these unfamiliar surroundings.”

With shouts from both on board the ship and from on shore the ropes were cast off and slowly the vessel began moving towards the harbour mouth. Sophia watched with interest as the sailors hurried around her. Othal pulled four of the men away from their duties and detailed them to begin transferring the six passengers’ luggage below.

“Captain, are there any other passengers?” Sophia asked, though Anya also listened into his answer.

“Just Rikard Jenbor and his wife. He’s a merchant, we’ve some of his company’s cargo aboard. They’re re going to open a new office downstream from Jarator. If you’ll excuse me I have to consult with my lieutenant and the bosun about the weather conditions and our best route.”

As Othal walked away, Sophia turned rather awkwardly to Anya. “Captain, I wonder if I can introduce you to my companions. I’m sure you’d like to know who you’ve been hired to protect.”

The woman’s serious looking face was now broken by a smile. “Yes, thank you. If we had had more time, it would have been better for us to confer ashore, but I trust I can make amends now. By the way, please call me Anya.”

“Erm, well, I am Sophia de Herillosor.” Sophia responded, slightly wrong-footed by the bondwoman’s manner.

Sophia turned away abruptly and led the bondwoman’s party to Sabetha and Constance who turned rather irritably to Sophia’s call, but realised that suddenly there were curios on deck as well as around the harbour. They introduced themselves in turn. Sophia was a little embarrassed as she watched their eyes run all over the three women. Sophia felt the same sort of curiosity as they did, but thought herself better trained than to indulge it. The three women were very alien to the three ladies-in-waiting, their clothes were black, tight and shiny and two of them were armed. In contrast the three young ladies-in-waiting wore the loose, sweeping dresses and floppy hats of courtiers, in pastel shades of the latest fashion. Sophia found, put off by Captain Anya’s rod, she kept her eyes more on the slave, at least her appearance was a little more familiar, and to extent, Sophia felt, like herself, this woman was compelled to serve. Of course, what she did was very different to Sophia’s own work. Sophia was not that naïve not to know that slaves dressed that way, even in the company of women in black armour, had the sole purpose of sexually serving their owners.

The slave, called Sharee, as Sophia just remembered, noticed the lady-in-waiting’s look and gazed back. She gave a smile that was welcoming but also unnerved Sophia in what it seemed to suggest. Sharee clearly liked an audience and Sophia found herself watching as she ran her hands sensually up her body, sliding over the glossy skin-tight clothing and teased at her nipples which seemed permanently erect. That much closer to the woman now, Sophia noticed other distinctive touches such as the gem piercing her nose and the rows of silver earrings. Above all there was the collar, a comparatively narrow ring around the woman’s neck with no sign of where it could be opened and with a jolt Sophia realised that it was never supposed to be.

In return for her stare Sophia noticed, a little uneasily, that the slave began to run her eyes the length of Sophia’s body from her skirt hem to her face. Again locking eyes, Sophia initially assumed that the look would be patronising with this slave suggesting that Sophia was unworldly beside her, a sexual creature. However, then Sophia felt, almost as if the message had been transmitted clearly into her mind, that Sharee was kind of pitying Sophia for being so concealed by her clothes and so closed off from a whole world of pleasure with which she was so familiar.

Sophia realised she had been oblivious to what Anya had been telling them about the waters they were travelling through and the potential risks. To escape the emotions stirred up by Sharee’s apparent curiosity in her, Sophia shifted position and tuned into Anya’s words.

“… I think that the recent increase in pirate assaults is why your lady hired me. In a few weeks, however, their season of peak activity will be waning. They do, however, operate out of the Rees and Zeyev archipelagos and given the winds at this time of year we may have to pass close to those islands. I do not want you ladies to be alarmed, aside from myself and Netali here, all the sailors on board will be experienced in fighting off pirates. Your task in the case of any incidents is to stay in your cabin. Do not be tempted to come out to sight-see. Even stepping into the corridor outside your cabin could delay a sailor in doing his duty. Do you understand?”

Though slightly startled by Anya’s direct speaking and the fact that all the rumours they had heard before leaving the duchess’s household seemed to have some foundation in fact, the three women chorused their compliance.

“Do you have any questions?”

Sebatha’s eyes glistened and typically for her she spoke as if she had not heard anything of what the previous speaker had emphasised.

“Er, can you tell me, why you’re called a bondwoman? Surely to be bonded is to be enslaved. Is your slave a bondwoman?”

Anya smiled and glanced back at Netali who was suppressing a snigger. “A good question, my lady. No, a bond is a business contract, not enslavement. It is usually for a fixed period, for example the length of a voyage, whereas slavery persists for life or at least until manumission. The bondwomen are effectively mercenaries. In the Aubift wars of the last century our order arose whilst other mercenary bands were discredited or eliminated. Women are more loyal than men and a bondwoman will fight to the death for the person with whom she has a bond.”

“So you will fight to the death for the Duchess?” Sabetha asked.

“If she were present, I would, but in this case the bond I signed was to protect you. And, yes, I would die to protect you.”

“I would too.” Netali piped up proudly.

“Yes, yes, of course. Your duchess has bonded the two of us.” Anya continued. “I should explain that Netali will soon be a full bondwoman. She completed her period as novice a year ago and has been serving under probation with me since then. However, she is an ensign and that means, unlike a novice, she is as strongly bound by the bond as I am. I do hope, though, we can keep her alive long enough for her confirming ceremony at the citadel.”

“At Serafold?” Sophia asked suddenly.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Sophia had heard of the bondwomen’s citadel and had seen etchings of it. In her mind it was a vast black fortress rising out of the sea. The women had taken it from a tyrant during the aforementioned Aubift wars. He was rumoured to have gone mad by that stage, but from what she had heard, that had not made taking the castle any easier. Since then it had served as a city-state in which the rules of the bondwomen’s order were law. Sophia imagined she would never see it, but was excited to have encountered women who would one day soon be inside it.

“And your slave, she’s not a bondwoman then?” Sabetha prompted.

“No, no, she’s just a slave; my property. I collected this one in Kerans.”

“Kerans?” Sabetha asked as if the fact that she had come from their town made it a surprise.

“Yes.”

“You mean you bought her from there?” Sophia sought clarification.

“No, full bondwomen have the same powers as the Princess and the law courts. It is their privilege to be able to take slaves wherever the order is recognised.” Netali explained as if reciting from her lessons.

“So you captured this woman?” Sabetha pressed.

“Ask her yourself.”

Sabetha turned to focus on the slave and spoke slowly as if to someone simple. “Erm, Sharee, er, slave, did this woman, your owner, your mistress, capture you?”

“I chose to become her slave. Once I felt her dildo inside me, I wanted nothing else; I wanted to be owned by her. I gave myself to her and she gladly let me serve her.”

“What were you before, a pauper? Were you a citizen?” Sabetha asked with incredulity.

“Yes, I was, I was a lady-in-waiting, but I am far happier to be my mistress’s slave, to dress so sexily, to be a prized possession. My mistress cares for my every need and allows me to be so erotic.”

Sharee’s focus shifted to her mistress and she stroked her hands around her owner’s shiny bum, a broad smile of contentment on her face. Anya leant forward and the two indulged in a kiss. Sophia and Constance looked away awkwardly gazing at the ship’s planks or anything except the passion being played out in front of them.

“Do all bondwomen go with women?” Sabetha continued, Sophia felt, now a little lasciviously.

Anya broke from her kiss but kept her hand massaging Sharee’s left nipple through the rubber. “Most. They know how to pleasure a woman far better than any man could, and they’re never going to get you with child, something that can be very inconvenient when you’re on a long campaign.”

“Thank you captain for your explanations.” Sophia said briskly. “I am sure we will have ample opportunity for more discussion in the coming days. However, I assume that you, like ourselves, will wish to ensure everything is properly installed in our cabins.”

Without waiting for a response Sophia turned and headed below decks followed quickly by Constance and a few moments later by Sabetha.

“Good morning ladies.” A tall, thin, blonde-haired man dressed like the captain approached them. “I am second lieutenant Abtyr Srelan. I have been assigned to liaise with our passengers. Can I show you to your cabin?”

“Thank you, yes. I am Sophia and these are Sabetha and Constance.”

“Charmed.”

Abtyr led them right to the front of the ship, past numbered cabins which Sophia could only guess at the function of. Their cabin was pretty spacious, certainly in comparison to some of the rooms they had had to sleep in when their lady visited other houses for big events. There were four bunks already made up with clean bedding. There was a small table with chairs in the centre of the room, all bolted in place, no doubt to cope with turbulent seas. Similarly the lanterns which held candles could be shut up so that even if they fell over their flames would find it difficult to burn anything. It was quite gloomy in the cabin as the only light came from narrow portholes running along one wall and a single one that faced the direction the ship was sailing. The quivers of arrows beneath each reminded Sophia that however slight, there was always the risk that a merchant ship might be attacked. However, the dust which seemed to cover each set of arrows reassured her a little.

“If you require anything please have one of the seamen summon me. Your bondwomen will be in the room just here.” Abtyr gestured to a neighbouring door.

Then with a bow he was gone. The three women’s luggage had been left around the table and they set to unpacking and tugging their chests into place at the foot of their beds. Within fifteen minutes the task was done. Constance knelt at the porthole looking where they were going but the view was just of the bare sea, calm, but without even an island in view.

“What do you think of the bondwomen?” Sabetha asked.

“What is there to think? The duchess employed them to protect us. We should be grateful for that and trust that the captain and her ensign are good at their job.” Sophia responded hoping to douse any speculation regarding the women in black.

“Yes, but they’re so different. I’ve not seen any in Kerans.”

“Well, you could see the slave walking down Emezar Street or even for sale in the Detretij bazaar.”

“Accepted.”

“I met her.” Constance said rather distantly, not taking her gaze from the sea.

“Who? The bondwoman? Where?” Sabetha seemed sceptical.

“No, the slave.” Constance came away from the porthole and sat at the table with the other two. “You probably did too. Do you remember the outdoor ball hosted by the Countess of Poitian last summer? She was there, I talked with her, we were in a very similar position…”

“Well, that’s hardly the case now is it?”

“…She had come from one of the distant western provinces, not Poitian itself. What was her name? Lucinda, that’s it, Lucinda de Hertphin.”

“Hertphin’s in Tarvash.” Sophia chipped in.

“There you are then, the mystery unravels. The slave on board this ship used to be Lucinda de Hertphin from Tarvash province.” Constance said with a degree of triumph.

“I can’t believe that. She probably just looks like the lady you met.” Sophia said a little sceptically.

“No, remember what she said.” Sabetha interjected eagerly. “She said she was a lady-in-waiting, it fits with what you’re saying Constance.”

A little stunned, the three women sat in silence clearly working through the implications.

“She really gave up citizenship to be a slave? I can’t believe that. I know being a lady-in-waiting can be tedious sometimes, frustrating at others, but surely it is better than being a slave.” Sophia suggested.

“Maybe she fell in love with the captain. It does happen you know, one woman loving another.” Constance said rather distantly.

“Then why give herself up as a slave? I know it might bring her into disrepute, but surely she and the captain could have run off somewhere, somewhere on the frontiers where they don’t ask questions or judge.” Sophia suggested, trying to apply some rational thought to the story.

“No, I don’t think it was love, or certainly not on the captain’s part. I think it was lust. You heard what she said about the powers of bondwomen. They can do more than buy slaves they can make them.” Sabetha noted.

“But this slave, what was her name? This Sharee, hardly seemed compelled.” Sophia added.

“She wears a collar, she’s led on a leash, she sleeps in a cage.” Constance said more forcefully.

“Yes, but that’s just symbolic. She’s not shackled in steel.” Sophia contested.

“No, because she’s shackled in her mind. That’s it: the captain bewitched her somehow, made her think like a slave. Remember, she said something like ‘when I felt her inside me, I wanted nothing else, I wanted to be owned, owned by her’.”

“Inside her?” Sophia asked.

“It’s that rod.” Constance suggested.

“The ‘dildo’.” Sabetha tittered.

“I can’t believe it’s got some power to make a woman think she should be a slave.” Sophia said doubtfully.

“Well, make sure you don’t knock into it by accident in one of these narrow corridors. I don’t want to have to go to the Marchioness when we arrive in Jarator and say ‘sorry, I know you expected three of us, but poor Sophia got herself enslaved on board ship, look for her in Serafold, she’s the thousandth one dressed in the tight black rubber.’ I doubt she’d go for you anyway, I can’t imagine you’d look that good in a shiny second skin.” Sabetha continued, really getting into the flow of her banter.

“You could have said that about Lucinda.” Constance observed wryly.

With Constance’s prompting Sophia’s memory pulled up Lucinda into her thoughts. She did remember her. As the ladies of the duchess they had been part of a prestigious entourage that the countess had been keen to impress at all levels. Sophia remembered Lucinda and those others, yes, Fiore and Catherine. They had been good company. Whilst she could now see physical similarities with the slave Sharee, Sophia still found it difficult to countenance such a change in personality by the woman.

“Well, if I’m going to be enslaved by anyone, I elect that second lieutenant. I’d be quite happy to warm his bed.” Sabetha joked.

“Sabetha!” Sophia said, a little aghast. She felt that away from the constraints of the duchess’s household her friend was really forgetting herself.

The next round of discussion was curtailed by the sound of a bell, lighter in tone than the official ship’s one, so the trio took it to be to indicate that the meal was ready. As they stepped from the cabin, they saw the three black forms of the bondwomen’s party and fell silent as they wondered how much these women had been able to hear through the wooden walls and what they thought about the ladies’ giggled theories.

Unsurprisingly for a man who spent a lot of his life in the room, the captain’s cabin was spacious and comfortably fitted. There were pictures and ornaments from around the Latchader coastlines firmly nailed to the walls. The passengers sat at a large table, which, Sophia imagined, doubled as a map table. She ran her eyes across the assembled party. The bondwomen now looked a little different, with their helmets, cloaks and all but their daggers taken off. Both Anya and Netali had long plaited hair which hung down their backs. Next to them were a man and woman that Sophia knew had to be the merchant and his wife. For some reason she had expected a chubby couple clad in rich red velvet with rings on each finger of their fat hands. However, these two were slim, certainly well dressed but not ostentatiously. Their hair was a pale blonde shade suggesting they came from one of the northern provinces and their profession seemed to have exaggerated the rather narrow eyes and pinched expression Sophia associated with people from provinces like Manarth or Elmak. She guessed that it was not an easy business starting up a new office in a frontier area like Jarator. Maybe they were travelling there to make their fortunes so that in twenty years time they would appear in Kerans just the way Sophia had expected them to be.

Around the far end of the table were a clutch of the ship’s officers. She knew the captain and Abtyr and guessed the older, shorter man next to him was the lieutenant. The man across from him was the oldest of everyone seated there. Rather like the merchants he had a spare appearance and his long fingers betrayed him as the physician of the ship.

Long rolls filled with meat and wide-based cups of mead were put in front of each of the diners by young sailors, one, Sophia guessed, was the captain’s cabin boy. Then from the corner of her eye she saw one of them stoop to the floor behind her and she twisted to see that on a cushion on the floor sat the slave. Her leash was lashed to a ring on the cabin’s wall, so that she resembled a pet dog. There was a bowl in front of her into which the young sailor spooned small chunks of food soaked in a liquid. Sophia watched as the slave began lapping it, not dirtying her fingers though they were clad in long glossy gloves. Sophia understood that the purpose was to show that this slave was apart from the rest of society; what had Othal called slaves: ‘human possessions’? There was no doubt in Sophia’s mind that anyone stepping in here could see that was Sharee’s status immediately; she was so clearly a living object owned by someone. Sophia was startled as she realised that such thoughts: to be so clearly defined, to have yielded so much to another did not disgust her, rather it generated a curious, if not unpleasant sensation. As before, she considered whether that was partly because, for all her position, she was in effect as servile as this slave, though obviously her status was concealed behind convention and custom and not blatant in the way that this woman’s role was visible to all.

Shaking off those thoughts and instead looking forward to when they left this ship and the normality of the Marchioness’s house, Sophia tried to focus on the conversation around the table. The captain was talking expansively to Netali, the closest of the passengers to him.

“… Of course the Latchader is not really a sea at all, it’s a vast lake. That is good for us sailors, we’re never short of fresh water in the way we would be sailing the Pendam or the Romund seas. Jarator is not a river mouth in the way that Furtal is. The river flows away from its coast and it finally comes out into the Pendam Sea, well, we assume. This is why it is such a booming town as they know eventually you’ll be able to ship goods by river without having to round the Cape of Scardis and navigate the Straits of Hitebel. I imagine I’ll retire to running some river barge between some of the stations down the river. When they’ve cleared the forest of course and built the places. I imagine that’s part of your role Jenbor …”

Sophia had found the lesson interesting but from where she sat was unable to make out the merchant’s quieter response. As the pewter plates that had held the rolls were now filled with a hot slice of fish pie, Sophia listened in to what Sabetha was animatedly asking Anya.

“… So what is the last phase of Netali’s probation?”

“Yes, there’ll be some tests in Serafold so that she can prove to the Order that she is not only a competent fighter and an intelligent guard but she has other characteristics necessary to be a full bondwoman.”

“That she loves women?”

Anya laughed. “Not necessarily. I am not betraying any confidences to say that I know Netali has already had three men as bed partners. One’s partnering is not simply about who you desire, it is also about power. As I explained before, having male sex-slaves would be difficult, women are far better in that role; male slaves in general can be troublesome.”

“So the ones who get enslaved have to love women?”

“They have to love a woman: the bondwoman who enslaves them. In fact the hold their owner has over them blots out any other desires they have.”

“I think I see. Your slave used to be Lucinda de Hertphin.”

“Yes, that’s correct, but she’ll not remember that. She knows herself only as my slave, Sharee.”

“You’ve washed away her memories?”

“No, not really. Slaves do not use memories the way we do, they live in this moment: to them now is everything. Think of it this way, if you are staring into the sun it is difficult to make out the features of the people around you, you can see their shapes but it is the sun which is at the centre of what you see. It is the same for Sharee …”

“You are the sun and seeing you she cannot make out other things except dimly.”

“Precisely.”

“But if you go away from her? Surely you don’t have personal slaves marching behind you into battle.”

“Well, yes, that might have been the case when she was first taken, but now I fill her ‘vision’ whether I am actually there or not.”

“It must be pleasant to have someone so devoted to you.”

“Yes, very delicious, that’s why I have a slave. Some bondwomen have a whole string of them, as if they are worshippers and the bondwoman a goddess.”

“But you prefer to stick to one?”

“At my age, yes. When I am retired to my villa in the hills around Serafold, maybe I’ll see things differently. And, slaves are expensive. You are responsible for providing everything they own and making sure it is in good repair; their lodgings, their food, their transport. At present I think having more than one would be a heavy burden on my purse.”

“So slaves are a sign of one’s wealth?”

“Of course, like any possession. Possibly more so for us bondwomen as our uniform is so unornamented. If I was a successful merchant you would see more of my success in the clothes and jewellery I wore.”

“So, you are successful?”

Anya smiled. “Well, first I’m still alive and second no-one I have been assigned to protect has been killed, so I suppose you could count that as a degree of success.”

“And she has never lost a cargo she was charged to protect.” Netali added proudly.

“Well, that’s not my speciality. Some bondwomen tend to protect things, others people. Even when I am on caravan protection, my personal focus tends to be the people rather than the items.”

“Well, the items are replaceable. One woolsack looks just like another. People are unique.” Othal said rather philosophically.

“Yes, you are very right, captain. I do remember one cargo, when I was newly a full bondwoman for which the owner wanted it lost and thought my inexperience would enable him to do that…”

“He had over-insured?” Jenbor asked, the first time Sophia had heard him speak.

“Yes, you know the trick…”

This sparked off a rather technical conversation about insurance and the exact wording of a bondwoman’s bond, for example if it meant also protecting a cargo from its owner. Sophia and her friends excused themselves and headed up on deck. The weather was mild, though the sky was grey. They went to the prow of the ship to see if they could make out any of the Rees islands yet.

“The wind’s dropping.” Abtyr appeared behind them; he was accompanied by Jenbor’s wife.

“Is it? Will that delay us?” Constance asked.

“Possibly. If we can reach the Rees archipelago before it drops too much we can get assistance from the currents along them. The waters swirl around them like a large eddy. If you sail to the South you can be carried East as we wish, to the North they flow the other way.”

“Back in Skarb we’d called this ‘pirate weather’.” The merchantwoman said abruptly.

“Yes?” Now it was Sabetha’s turn to be curious.

“Well, merchant ships tend only to have sails. You cannot effectively combine oars with a wide-bodied ship and the rowers’ seats would eat into your cargo space. Pirates seek out becalmed ships as the easiest prey, they cannot flee and so the pirates can row up and simply pluck them.”

“They have slave oarsmen?”

The woman from Malnarth gave a rather patronising smile. “No, you need a well-paid force to row a ship. Driven people can never row in time. You cannot whip them all simultaneously and they quickly fall out of step, even if they do not intend to. You need strong, healthy rowers who will work together. The pirate rowers have forceful incentives to row well and row fast because they will all get a share of what is taken. On military galleys you’ll find the rank-and-file rowers will be paid as well as the officers.”

“Well, thank you, erm, …”

“Velnia, Velnia Jenbor.”

“Velnia. We’ll have something else to look for from the prow.” Sophia said; she was a little unhappy that another frightening rumour seemed confirmed by someone who would know the truth.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much, he’ll see them long before you will.”

Velnia nodded to the crow’s nest above the central mast where a sailor was scanning the horizon.

“Thank you, that is reassuring.” Sophia said feeling a little foolish that she had not realised about the lookout.

Velnia gave a small bow then took the second lieutenant away asking what he knew of prices in towns along the coast from Jarator.

Sophia awoke sensing that something was wrong. They had been sailing for two days now and, with no sight of land, she had had to rely on Abtyr to tell them how far they had progressed. However, even Sophia had noticed that all the sails on the ship had been unfurled and none of them was more than barely filling with wind. Partly her unease was because she was eager for the voyage to be over. Whilst she was happy chatting with her friends and the Jenbors in the state room, she was sure she would soon tire of the constraints of the ship and was irritated that the five-day long journey could be extended.

For now, Sophia lay in her bed listening. The creak of the ship’s planks had become so familiar that she barely heard it any more. There was always someone moving around doing something on board and the footsteps on the deck above their room were also now well known to her. Then she realised it was the motion, or the lack of it, which had disturbed her. The gentle rocking, whilst initially unsettling, had become, by the time she had bedded down on the first night, a comforting sensation. Now it seemed to have ceased. She supposed that could be a good thing. Even though the Latchader was an inland sea, well, in fact, a huge lake, Sophia knew it could experience its storms just like the open ocean and she guessed that on this voyage she easily might have found herself braced against the wall of the cabin begging for the pitching of the vessel to stop.

Eventually, Sophia realised that either the ship had docked, a guess soon ruled out by the view from the porthole, or becalmed. She dressed quickly, leaving Constance still sleeping. Sabetha had already disappeared somewhere. Sophia found her on the prow of the ship standing with Netali and the lieutenant. The sleeker lines of both their clothing contrasted with the oversized dress Sabetha had to wear.

“Spotted something of interest?” Sophia asked.

The three turned to the sound of her voice.

“Good morning, Sophia.” Netali smiled.

“Good morning, erm, Netali.” It seemed odd not to call the bondwoman by her rank but improper not to use first names as she had done.

The lieutenant touched his hat and Sophia exchanged a greeting with him.

“We’re looking for the Latchader seals, they’re supposed to be very different to saltwater ones.” For someone who had never sailed before, Sabetha seemed to have become an instant expert in aquatic life.

“Have you seen any?”

“Netali saw a couple out there,” Sabetha gestured vaguely, “but her eyes are very good.”

“They might close on the ship when they realise we’re becalmed.” The lieutenant explained. “They’ll feel less threat from us, though ironically that would bring them in bowshot of crew members if we were looking for food.”

“So, we’re becalmed?” Sophia asked.

“Yes, despite aiming to come in along the Rees coasts the wind has dropped. We’re hoping a storm will pick up from the West and blow us on. It’ll be rough but it will get us closer to Jarator, and, hopefully, at least into the Rees currents.”

“Are those the Rees islands?” Sophia pointed to a pale grey shape on the horizon.

“Yes, that’s Inicio, the most Westerly of the chain.”

“Ship sighted!” A shout came out from the crow’s nest.

Sophia looked up to see where the lookout was pointing but looking in that direction she could see nothing.

“You can’t see it from down here; it’s the curve of the world. If it’s moving and heading this way then it’ll appear over the horizon in a short while.”

The three women watched in silence, looking to the horizon, now searching out a ship rather than seals. Suddenly, something that appeared like pole began to grow from the horizon. Surprisingly quickly they could see the top of a sail.

“Oared ship, oared ship approaching.”

“Yntas, what banner is she flying?” The lieutenant called to the lookout.

“None I can see, sir.”

The lieutenant hesitated for a few moments and looked back himself to see what he could make out from the increasingly visible sails. Then with an air of determination he quickly barked out orders.

“Ladies, please go to your cabin. Ensign, summon your captain, bring her here.”

“Yes, I will.”

Netali, unencumbered the way the ladies-in-waiting were, broke into a run and was soon below decks. Sabetha lingered, seemingly reluctant to give up the chance to see what Sophia gathered might be a pirate ship. She recognised that, whilst the lookout and the lieutenant could not yet be certain, it was better to have a false alarm than a late one. Sophia tugged Sabetha and led her below deck. As she did, the ship’s bell rang out rapid peals. In an instant the crew seemed to have sprung to life and even in the short distance to their cabin the two women found it difficult to manoeuvre around the oncoming sailors and then the two bondswomen who followed, seemingly assembling large crossbows as they did.