Storiesonline.net ------- Sea King by colt45 Copyright© 2005 by colt45 ------- Description: A young warrior fresh out of the academy is heading for his first assignment, with him travels what remains of his family. While at sea their tiny ship is taken by privateers looking for loot and slaves. The only thing of any importance to him is his family, one aunt and a cousin, nothing matters except saving them. But how can he do that? Codes: MF Mf fant slow rom 1st teen cons slave inc cous aunt preg ------- ------- Chapter 1 The cool green water splashed up around the bow and down the sides of the merchant ship Pinya as it slowly made headway through the presently quiescent sea. The mid-afternoon sun beat down on the tiny ship as the barely perceptible breeze rippled the languishing sails. Dent scanned the horizon with his piercing blue eyes, more out of boredom than with any expectation of seeing anything. Boredom was a constant problem on this voyage. At just over twenty seasons he was naturally a veritable fountain of energy barely kept in check by the strenuous schedule imposed by the warrior academy he had attended for the past six years. Having graduated from the school he was technically a full Warrior but was as of yet unblooded. That will soon be taken care of, he thought to himself. The reason for undertaking this voyage was to enlist in the Putram Malshall's army. Malshall was forever quarreling with his neighbors and needed a constant stream of new Warriors to fill the ranks of his well-used cohorts. A hell of a way to make a living he mused, but infinitely better than being a common field hand. If his father, gods damn his soul, hadn't got his dumb ass killed these six seasons ago fighting over some silly tavern wench then maybe he would still be the Overseer's son destined to become an Overseer someday on one of Putram Salas' many farms. He was lucky that his father's position earned his family a small stipend and a choice: warrior training or work in the fields. The choice was easy. As a warrior he could get killed or maimed; as a common field hand he would be subjected to brutally hard labor day after day from sadistic Overseers. He included his asshole father in that group, whose only joy in life was seeing how much pain they can inflict on those below them. A potentially quick death or a long, slow painful one. No choice. He signed the training roster the day it was offered. Warrior training had its advantages. While a student he was granted a small stipend, not much but enough to keep his aunt and cousin alive and living comfortably if not extravagantly. Especially since his mother's sister Nesho could supplement their income by casting figures for the local merchants, helping the sick and elderly with her herb medicines and Sosho, his cousin, was a pretty fair seamstress. More than fair, he thought to himself, she's much more than "fair", damn good in fact. They didn't live like the country gentry they had been, but fairly well all things considered. But this voyage was boring. He worked out on deck with his weighted sword and ran through his exercise routines, even sparred with the few men-at-arms the merchant carried but they were no real challenge. There was no room to run and little room to do anything else for that matter, so most of his time was spent staring at the sea and sometimes playing games with his family. "Sail ahoy!" he heard the cry from the lookout posted up in the ship's rigging. "Two points abaft the beam, port!" Moving to the port side of the ship he scanned the horizon to the side and slightly behind. At first he didn't see anything but suddenly he could just barely make out the small gray patch that could only be the sail of another ship hull down on the horizon. Standing there watching he could detect no motion; the small patch of gray seemed fixed at the edge of his vision. Grunting, he tore his eyes away and slowly made his way aft and up to the rear platform that the sailors called the piloting bridge. Climbing up the he found the ship's captain standing behind a sailor manning the giant wheel used to control the ship's rudder. Sauntering over until he stood next to the two men he turned and let his eyes follow the captain's gaze to the little gray intruder. "Company, Captain?" he asked mildly. "Kena say, warrior," he grunted without taking his eyes off the distant piece of cloth. "Probably jest another ship happen to be going as we're. Aye, probably jest that." Turning to look up at the young man he continued, "But yea ken never know in these waters. Better to be sure than later sorry. They donna look like they be closing but maybe a little boarding practice canna hurt." Leaning over the side of the platform he shouted down to one of the mates standing on the main deck. "Bo'sun, get the off duty crew up on deck. I wanna practice a little repel boarders for a wee bit." Looking up at the captain and then glancing over to the sail on the horizon the mate nodded his head saying "Aye, Captain." Turning back to the main deck he bellowed, "On watch! Ring the bell to quarters! All off duty crew to attend!" Almost immediately a bell started ringing in a complex pattern. The slap of bare feet and muttered curses could be heard as the off-duty ships' crew poured out of hatches and began to form up on the main deck in more or less recognizable formations. Turning again to look up at the young warrior the gnarled older man almost casually stated, "If we be needing it, I'm hoping you'll be helping me crew. Not that I'm thinking we be needing it, mind you, but if these be pirates we'll be fighting fer our lives. Mistake me not." "Pirates bad around here, are they?" Dent asked. "I dinna know if there be any 'good' pirates anywhere but around here they be especially bad. I no worry much about the true pirates. Cowardly dogs they be; show them steel and they run quick enough. No, it's not the pirates that fret me, it's them others. Not really pirates ya see but privateers commissioned by that blackhearted devil, Jeevel. Doesn't 'ave much of a navy, see, so he loosens these dogs on peaceful traders just trying to do business. Point is they go for the loot as ye might expect, but lately they been taking the females and putting the men to the sword. Uses the women folk for their own enjoyment we hear and then sell them as slaves in that cesspool, Harv'el." Turning back to the main deck he watched as his crew lined up while short-bladed slashing swords and boarding spears were handed out. Dent followed the captain's eyes to the deck when he noticed a familiar form exiting the forward hatch. Serenely the figure observed the crew raggedly going through their drills until those eyes caught sight of Dent up on the piloting platform. Waving, the figure started to work its way aft towards the platform casually moving through the sea of moving men like a ship over choppy waters. "Methinks your lady wants a word with you," stated the Captain pointing to the stately woman moving aft. "Either her or her sister, I canna tell the difference between them most times." "I believe you're correct, Captain," Dent mused as he started down the ladder. The two met just as Dent touched the main deck. "Aunt Nesho," he said smiling, "what brings you out on deck? As you can see it's rather busy just now." As always his eyes drank in the sight of the woman whose life and happiness had come to mean more to him than life itself. It had been ten years earlier that his mother had died, from a broken heart some said, and her younger sister Nesho, recently widowed, and her daughter Sosho had come to live with Dent and his father. Over those years, especially after his father died, Nesho had come to be the mother he could barely remember now. At times of inner honesty he had to admit his admiration and affection wasn't just from the bond of mother and son for the woman before him deserved that admiration all in her own right. At twenty-nine seasons the Lady Nesho den Siso would have been called a beautiful woman by all but the most picky. Long dark brown hair falling well over the shoulders framing dark brown eyes and classically chiseled features and, although her skirt and day jacket were modest bordering on severe, the shape beneath was definitely well rounded and alluring. Her bosom was large but not exceptionally so; living in tight quarters he had enough opportunity to see that much for himself, her waist slender, flaring out into what he had heard described as "birthing hips." There were no children other than his younger cousin, but Dent wondered if that was due to the fever his uncle contracted after Sosho was born. He had heard of men whose wives or women were 'barren' after such a fever but who seemed to have no trouble conceiving if they remarried or changed partners later on. He knew it bothered Nesho there were no other children but she bore it stoically like she did all other adversity. For the thousandth time Dent wondered at the incredible stupidity of his father looking elsewhere for pleasure when he should have married this woman. It was not uncommon for a widower to take his late wife's sister to wife, especially if she was also a widow. He was fairly sure that Nesho wouldn't have freely consented to such a match, but then as a woman what choice would she really have? Most would consider her lucky that her sister's husband took her in at all. For the thousandth time he hoped he had inherited nothing from that idiot except his coloration and features. She was far too good a woman for that bastard anyway. Standing together one would have had to look very hard to see any family resemblance. Where Nesho was dark, Dent was fair; where her features were delicate and fine, his were, well to be kind, rugged. Oh he was often told he was a fine figure of a man, six feet tall, 180 pounds and build like a rock with broad shoulders and narrow hips, but he would never be called pretty. Blue green eyes, light blond, almost white hair presently tied back in a warriors knot, and a face that looked like, and had, taken it share of beatings. It wasn't a face only a mother could love; unknowingly he had been the subject of fantasies of a number of young girls, and some not so young. Although he had his own share of fantasies, some he was ashamed of, the pressure of time and work at the school gave him no time to pursue any of them. Looking up at him she smiled, lighting up her face and making him feel like a giant hand was squeezing his heart. Truth be known more than a few of his forbidden fantasies had involved this woman and as ashamed as it made him feel they still came unbidden and with an alarming frequency. "We heard the alarm and wondered what it was about," she said. "Well we've spotted a sail over yonder," he replied pointing toward the horizon. "The captain doesn't think it is any problem but is of a mind to take no chances. I was just on my way to work with the crew on their drills myself." "Ah, well then I won't impede you any further then, my warrior. I'll just go back below and try to calm their fears. You know how these fools of women can get sometimes." "Well I don't know about that," he said laughing, "I can't say I've been around many that I would call fools. But you might tell them this is normal drill and not to be concerned." "I take it as a compliment that you don't think me a fool," her smile becoming even brighter and with maybe a hint of a blush on her cheeks. "Just in your luck with a husband," he growled, "and brothers-in-law, but I fault grandfather for that. not you." "Whatever you may say about your father," she replied, placing her hand lightly on his cheek, "he did give us a place to live when no other would. Now don't work yourself too hard. You mustn't get hurt now of all times." "I'll be careful. Now get down below before some clod runs you over by accident." Taking her by the shoulders he turned her toward the forward hatch and gave her a light swat on the bottom. Looking over her shoulder at him he would have sworn that she wiggled her fanny at him just a little just before striding off. Whether it was his imagination or not, the effect it had on him certainly wasn't. Aunt or not he was a young man of twenty and his cock knew a beautiful woman when it saw one. Shaking his head to clear it and taking a deep breath, he turned to the drilling men and set off to do his job. Hours latter he stepped into the tiny cabin he shared with Nesho and Sosho. He had played the part of a one-man boarding party using himself as a foil for their drills and practice. The experience did nothing to ease his unrest. Although they outnumbered him twenty to one it was his opinion that he would have had a decent chance of taking the ship by himself if the fighting had been for real and not just practice with blunted sword and spear. The alleged men-at-arms acted like they had never seen someone use both a sword and dagger together before. He could have easily blocked their blows and gutted them before they tried to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. Gods! He thought. Hopefully if they are attacked it will be a single pirate -- a blind and crippled one at that -- otherwise they might as well just hand over the wheel and save time! Placing his weapons and gear next to the door he hung his shirt up in a crossbeam and rubbed his bruised and battered body. He had rinsed with seawater getting most of the sweat and grime off, but the salt water stung the small nicks and cuts he collected during the mock battle. He noticed his cousin sitting near the porthole working on what appeared to be a shirt. Her ability as a seamstress still helped them earn a little even underway. There seemed to be no end of torn clothing or resizing work to be done between the crew and passengers. Remembering what the captain said he looked at her in a new light. It was true she and her mother had the same coloration, same hair and, in general, the same body shape. Where Nesho could pass for much younger than her twenty-nine seasons Sosho could pass for a number of years older than her true sixteen. I am blessed with a household of truly beautiful women, he thought, and both forbidden to him entirely. Heavy sigh. He stretched trying to work the knots out of his abused muscles. The workout was nowhere near as strenuous as what he was used to and the battering much, much less, but bruises hurt no matter how you get them. "I warned you not to wear yourself out, Dent." For the first time he noticed Nesho standing up from the corner bunk where she had been reading one of the volumes from the pitifully small ship's library.' "Now you sit down right here and let me look at you," she said, pointing to a short stool in the middle of the cabin. "It's nothing really, just a few bumps and bruises. I used to get worse every day at school," he grumbled as he moved toward the stool. "He'd say that if they cut off an arm," Sosho interjected without even looking up from her work. "If only the rest of him were as hard as his head, then he'd never need armor." "Hush now," Nesho chided as Dent chuckled at his cousin's standard barb, "and you sit down and be quiet." He sat. It didn't do any good to try to avoid this scrutiny, even if he wanted to. "Hmmm," she mused as she deftly poked and prodded his various wounds. "Doesn't look like anything serious but let me work out these muscles." Her hands were firm but gentle as she kneaded and massaged his sore shoulders and arms. The tenseness seemed to flow out of him as she worked her way down his back and up again to his neck. From behind him her arms went around to soothe his upper chest and pectoral muscles. She had removed her outer coat and he could feel her unbound breasts pressed against him from under her thin blouse. Thinking about those soft warm pillows of flesh caused a reaction that even a blind man would have noticed under his loose trousers. Hoping against hope that she didn't notice his noble reaction, he felt the heat of a flush at his shoulder, up his neck and all over his face. Thank the gods, he thought, he was facing away from Sosho. It would be bad enough if Nesho saw him, much worse if she did. Nesho did see it of course; how could she not! The bulge under his trousers was very visible and ran half way down to his knee! As a young girl not knowing any better, she believed her husband when he told her he was well endowed, but she could see Dent's must be half again a large as that! Nesho knew Dent had been reacting to her as a woman for the past couple of years. This was not unexpected. After all, she was his mother's sister but she was also a women and their tight living quarters for the past few years made privacy, if not impossible, then at least difficult. The only saving grace was that his school occupied him from dawn to dusk almost every day for those six years leaving him too tired to even think about much else. No, his reaction didn't surprise her. In fact she was flattered to think that a fine young man like Dent would even give an old woman like her a fleeting thought. No, what surprised her was her own reaction. She had been aware of his body before this; how could she not! But not for a good while and certainly never in a state of excitement before! He was large enough that the outline under the tight cloth left very little to the imagination. She thought she could almost see the mushroom-shaped head and the long cylinder of the shaft. Any tighter and she would be able to see the veins popping up along its length! This sight plus the feel of his strong muscular body under her hands caused a warmth to spread in her groin that she hadn't experienced for many years. She could feel her nipples harden as they pressed into his back and the moisture begin to form inside her vagina to prepare her for the sex act that she would never be able to consummate. She knew she should stop immediately. She was teasing him and torturing herself but the feel and smell of this wonderful male body was too much to release just yet. Pressing her cheek against his she could feel the rough beginnings of a beard. He was not particularly hairy in that respect, but then neither had been his father. It would be so nice, she thought to herself, if he weren't her nephew and he could lay her down on the bunk, crawl between her legs and stuff that wonderful piece of man meat into her until she screamed. But that wasn't going to happen. So instead she kissed him on the cheek, tousled his hair and told him to go lie down. Sometimes life just isn't fair, she thought. The evening air was a bit cooler than it had been earlier in the afternoon. Dent felt refreshed and invigorated as he stepped through the hatch to the main deck. Nesho and Sosho decided to remain in the cabin after the evening meal but Dent wanted to know the status of that mysterious vessel whose sail had been trailing them throughout the day. The deck was gently rolling as he made his way aft towards the piloting platform. The breeze had picked up since the afternoon and the ship progressed at a steady pace with the wind-filled sails billowing overhead. Looking in the direction where the mysterious sail had been visible earlier, he was unable to make out anything in the deepening dusk. Climbing the ladder to the piloting platform Dent spotted the captain by the railing casually peering out into the gloom. "Good evening, Captain," he said in greeting. "Any word on our mysterious companion?" "Nay," the captain replied without turning. "They be still there the last we could see them but since losing sight, well... " He shrugged, sighed and turned toward the young warrior. "I canna tell where they be by morn, but it worries me. It's just a feeling, mind you, but I think that ship be more than a simple merchant, and if that be so then they probably will be making their run in on us tonight for an attack at first light." "Can we outrun them?" "If they be pirate or privateer, I think not." The captain's face remained outwardly calm but his eyes were crystal pools of rage. "If they intend to close during the night they must assume we will hold our course. What if we maneuver, open them up?" Even though Dent had no experience with naval warfare the tactical portion of his mind was racing, adapting what he did know to this strange wet environment. "A superior idea, my fine young warrior, but alas not possible. To open them up we must turn to starboard, that which I have done a wee bit, but off our beam here are the Karken reefs, and a more vicious set of ship-eaters you will never hope to see. I'll not set course there unless I know the ship is in mortal danger. We turn into them we close the distance for them. Turn back? I dinna know if we could lose them. This ship wallows like a pig in headwinds, we be too slow to get out of their sight in just one short night. Forward at best speed is the best we can do. Hope they be simple merchants or hope for one of the Putram's patrol ships to meet with us before the pirates." The captain sighed and his body seemed to shrink like a waterskin with the liquid running out. "Bad choice maybe, but the best we can make now." "I'm sure you know best, Captain. Maybe it's just another merchant, or maybe they will lose us in the night. If not, know you that I'll stand ready to fight with the ship if it comes to that." "Aye, well that be something anywise," he turned back to the rail resuming his scan of the waters. "At least that be something." Opening the cabin door Dent could see the flickering light coming from the small lantern casting shadows on the wall. Silently sitting on their bunks, legs crossed, his cousin and aunt fixed their dark eyes on him as he entered. Dropping his gear in its accustomed place next to the door he stretched and finally broke the silence. "We need to talk." "Is it that bad?" Nesho asked coolly. "We can't be sure," he said running his fingers through his fine blond hair. "If it's pirates we should know in the morning. The captain seems to think that will be the time of any attack. If they wait too long, they stand a chance of running into Malshall's patrols or losing us if we change course in the night. No, if there's to be trouble it will be tomorrow morning. I plan to be up and ready before the dawn watch. My part is easy; what we have to discuss is you two." "What do you want us to do?" Again Nesho's voice exuded calm and control. Collecting his thoughts Dent looked proudly at her wondering that such beauty could contain the strength of will needed to remain calm in what could be a very dangerous and deadly situation. His eyes flickered over to Sosho and although she remained still and quiet, he could see the terror in her white-rimmed eyes. His heart went out to her and he wanted nothing more than to run to her, cradle her in his arms and assure her that all would be well, that he would protect her. But that would be false and they deserved better than that. "Do? Nothing during the battle. Bar the door and wait. If it's just pirates then we stand a good change of fending them off. If it's privateers, well..." he sighed and sat down on the stool facing them. "Pirates? Privateers? What's the difference?" Sosho's voice was ragged but she also was trying to keep her terror under control. "Well," Dent paused formulating the words that would help him explain. "True pirates are independent: sea bandits really. They're usually small in number and poorly equipped. They prey on those weaker than themselves. They attack for loot and will attack anybody. Privateers are another matter entirely. You see, when a Putram has no navy or a very small one, he can't use it to attack his stronger foe. Instead he 'allows' -- contracts really -- private naval vessels, mercenaries, to attack his rival's shipping. He guarantees a price for any prize brought in, a market for their loot and a safe haven for them to make port in. In this way he weakens his enemy without exposing his own resources to harm." "The problem is," he continued, "privateers are usually well armed and well equipped. It's true this ship does carry men-at-arms but they're not true warriors and I doubt they would last very long against them." "If these are privateers we stand a good chance of losing and if that happens you two will be taken as slaves. I know this is difficult, but if it happens you must submit. Accept it. If you don't resist they won't kill you. You may be a slave but at least you will be alive." "And where will you be?" Sosho suddenly shouted. "Where will our big protector be then?" Calmly he looked her straight in the eye, his blue against her black. "My dear cousin," he said softly, "I will be dead." ------- Chapter 2 There was little else for them to talk about. Dent stripped to his small clothes and laid down on his bunk willing sleep to come. He could hear Sosho softly sobbing and her mother's light murmuring as she comforted the young woman. Presently the sobbing ended and the cabin was quiet and still. He ran through the mental exercises designed to relax his body but still sleep wouldn't come. Suddenly he felt the bunk give under added weight and the warmth of another body pressed against his back. A hand caressed his hair, his cheek and reached down to clutch his chest pulling him in tightly. "Aunt Nesho, I feel so helpless," he whispered. "I don't know what to do; I don't know if there is anything I can do." "You will do your best, my darling," she whispered in his ear. "Just remember no matter what happens that we love you, that I love you." She began to hum a soft lullaby, just loud enough for him to hear but not loud enough to keep him awake. "Why aren't you sleeping with Sosho?" he whispered, then quickly added, "Not that I'm complaining!" "You probably don't remember," she answered softy, "but after your mother died you used to cry yourself to sleep every night. I would come in and hold you just like this until you stopped. Sosho's asleep and I thought you might need a little comfort; I know I do." Nodding he reached up and pressed her hand even tighter to his body. He could feel her breasts pressing against his back through her thin nightshirt and her hips and leg as she wrapped as much of herself around him as she could. He felt ashamed but there was no way he could stop the blood from flowing and prevent the hardening of his cock. He knew it was his own mother's sister but all he could feel was the beautiful woman pressed as close to him as a second skin. He cursed his weakness and the fates that allowed him to love her not only as kin but also as a man for a woman. He struggled and fought his feelings until finally he drifted off into a restless and troubled sleep. The bell announcing the start of the dawn watch woke him and he opened is eyes. Nesho was still lying next to him although they had reversed their positions during the night. He was now pressed against her back, his groin against her rump and his arm draped around her holding her tightly to him. His hand was cupping one of her large soft breasts and suddenly he was not only wide awake but also fully erect. He had never been with a woman before but he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to pull up her nightshirt, tear aside his smallclothes and plunge his cock into what he knew would be a pit of pure pleasure. Sweating and breathing hard, he released her breast and carefully pushed himself up off the bunk trying his best not to disturb her sleep. Since he was next to the bulkhead he had to cautiously lift his leg over her and set it down on the deck. His erection was making elegant movement difficult and halfway over he heard her stir and he froze. Hearing the rustle of her bedclothes he felt the caress of a soft hand on his cheek. The hand moved to the back of his neck and pulled him down. It was still very dark but somehow her lips found his and she gave him a short and, he thought, very un-aunt-like kiss. "It's nice to know that such a handsome young man could still find this old woman attractive," she whispered. His faced burned and he started to fumble for words. "Don't be embarrassed or fret, my love," she chuckled softly and he could almost feel her smile. "It's natural and I am flattered. Now go! We will be up soon." He couldn't think of anything to say so he finished climbing out of the bunk and donned his clothes and gear before slipping out the door, closing it softly behind him. His thoughts and feelings were a jumble of desire, love, confusion, lust and fear. Interestingly, none of it dealt with the upcoming battle and his own probable death. He wondered if that was a good thing or bad. The sun was still down over the horizon but the sky was light and the pink reflection on the few clouds present indicated sunrise wasn't far off. From his position on the main deck he scanned the surrounding seas but saw nothing. Cautious relief flooded his chest as he made his way aft toward the piloting platform. Climbing the ladder he saw the captain and walked over to stand beside him. "Morning, Captain. I don't see anything. Does that mean that all is well?" "Nay," came the curt reply and the Captain jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the stern of the ship. Following the pointing digit Dent saw another ship dead in their wake about a mile behind them. It was still dark enough that he couldn't make out every detail but it was obvious that it was a large vessel, larger than the one he was on. He was no naval expert but it looked sleeker, with more sail. Something about it made it look dangerous and deadly. "Ah, I see. I take it that isn't just a pirate?" "Nay, too big. She be a privateer, no doubt." "We fight?" Dent asked already knowing the answer. "Aye, we fight." "What's your battle plan and where do want me?" The captain thought for a moment. "Come the dawn winds she'll make her run on us, pull up alongside and grapple. If they can bring us in den the boarders will come over amidships. It be best, I think, if you be down there helping repel. If we keep dem off and break the grapples, maybe we have a chance. If they be onboard..." he shrugged. "How long?" Mentally Dent was reviewing the best place to fight using the cover provided on the main deck. The problem was he really needed to fight at the rail, an exposed position if there ever was one. "Canna tell fur sure," the captain replied stroking his beard. "An hour, maybe two. It take them awhile to come alongside once they start the approach. I be sounding the alarm when we see them getting near." "I guess I'll go get some breakfast then. Wouldn't want to fight on an empty stomach." Breakfast was a meager thing: hard biscuit with salt pork and a mug of watered beer. He took it off the mess deck into their cabin to eat with his family. He told them of the following ship and the upcoming battle. Little was said and although her eyes were red, Sosho didn't cry. Her act of bravery touched him almost as much as her tears had earlier. The alarm sounded as they were finishing up. Standing, he checked his armor, the light set since the heavy armor was packed deep in the ship's hold, hammered steel plate breast and back over a heavy wool tunic, boiled leather leggings and shoulder guards, forearm guards and a light bronze skull cap, enough to deflect a near miss but not enough for a direct hit. Completing his battle gear was a short slashing sword about the length of his arm, sheathed left, and the fighting dirk with a thick blade, double edged like the sword and about half its length with a large solid cross hilt and tines used for trapping an opponent's sword. Sosho tried to look brave as he prepared, while Nesho examined his plate bindings retying two when she found them deficient in some manner. She stood up on her toes and kissed his cheek and then his lips whispering, "Come back to us." Even Sosho had to run up and throw her arms around him jumping up to kiss his lips before flinging herself back on her bunk face tight against the wall. Turning to Nesho he said softly, "Remember, you must live. Nothing else matters; just live." Before she could answer he turned and hurried toward the main deck. The main deck wasn't quite chaos but close enough. The ship's Bo'sun was screaming at the turned-out crew, getting them in line, making sure each had a weapon. Looking out over the side of the ship, Dent was surprised to see how close the privateer had come. About a hundred yards out and a hundred back, the privateer ship was making visible headway coming up on their beam and closing in. Hung on their railing were large bunches of braided line obviously meant to cushion the force of the two ships colliding. Behind those cushions he saw the faces of fighting men, hard faces, and at least double the number on their ship. Stepping over to the Bo'sun, Dent asked where the petty officer wanted him. "Just look and decide where ye be most useful. Watch for the grapples, you whoresons!" Even as he shouted catapults on the pursuing ship fired flinging huge four-clawed hooks toward the little merchantman. One fell short and one failed to catch but two found purchase, one on the railing and the other inside one of the deck's main cargo hatches. These two lines were immediately pulled taut by the men on the other ship. Pinya's sailors rushed to the grapples with pry-bars and cutters, but the pressure exerted by the other ship kept them from being released and chain attaching the grapple to the line prevented them from reaching and cutting the thick hawsers. Soon two more grapples were thrown and secured to the prey ship, the large marauder closing in yard by yard. There was a large jolt and the sound of cracking timber as the two ships locked side by side. Immediately the pirate ship seemed to boil over with men as they poured over the side onto the smaller vessel. The defenders moved forward and tried to push back the invaders but were quickly overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Directly in from of Dent the line of crew seemed to give way and the invaders were rushing toward him. Something snapped in his head and his body began the move without conscience effort. Suddenly he was back at the academy on the hot sands of the practice grounds. One against many was the drill, hard to master but not so bad as once it had been. The many, especially in confined spaces, almost always got in each other's way preventing them from using their numerical superiority to any great advantage. Almost always it broke down to a series of one-on-one matches where the biggest and best didn't always have the advantage. Pick the lead. Parry out, slash back across the throat, one down. Slide left, catch sword on dirk, sword pommel to chin, dirk slash down into stomach, two down. Slide right, feint left, slash right, dirk into groin, not dead yet so avoid but out, three down. It became impossible to tell what happened in what order; slash, feint, stab, cut, slide. The mind saw, processed, and evaluated but the body took that information and used it without conscience decisions or orders on his part. Suddenly there was nothing in front of him, nothing to the side. In a crouch he scanned the area and saw ten to fifteen of the invaders standing in a loose line about ten feet away from him. The space between them was littered with some eight to ten bodies, some obviously dead and others not, but all definitely out of the fight. The invaders didn't seem like they were planning to rush him any time soon so he slowly stood up from his crouch and brought his weapons down to rest position. The pirates' line parted and a big man strode to the front. A really big man. He must have been a head taller than Dent and half again his weight. A fiery red beard flowing down onto an immense barrel chest, and with thumbs tucked into his belt he surveyed the carnage in front of him. Looking at Dent he bellowed, "You do this, little man?" The answer seemed somewhat obvious so Dent decided to conserve his breath. "First to me!" the big man bellowed again without turning or letting his eyes leave Dent. As if appearing by magic, a smaller rat-faced man appeared next to the giant. "Captain?" "How many did we lose this time?" The giant's voice was pitched loud enough for all to hear but it wasn't the shout it had been. "Six dead, nine wounded, two may die." Rat face turned to look at the bodies at his feet. "That's not counting these of course. Here's, well... hmm..." He started flipping over bodies walking to within six feet of Dent without even acknowledging his presence. "We got seven dead right up and I'd say the other two be dead before nightfall." "I'd say we got a warrior here, First," grumbled the giant. "Very well, warrior, do you yield?" "Why would I do that?" Dent said casually, "I have no desire to make it easier for you to kill me." "Now why would we kill you?" said the giant. "I suppose for the same reason you are killing those men over there," Dent answered pointing with his dirk toward the forward platform where a number of the invaders were taking captured men-at-arms and sailors, cutting their throats and throwing them over the side. Looking at the scene the giant turned back and waved his hand. "Bah, wounded and second-rate fighters. Those that are useful to me I keep. Sailors for the ship, women as slaves, and the loot of course. Now true warriors I don't see much of out at sea. Just what are you doing here?" Dent didn't see much point in lying. "I'm headed to Malshall. Heard the Putram there was hiring." Casually he stuck his sword into the deck letting his right hand swing free at his side. "You're not contracted now?" the giant sounded surprised. "No. I am unbound at this time." "Well that sheds a bit of a different light on things. No contract, huh? Fine. Then how about you contract to me?" "I'm not in much of a position to decline, now am I?" Dent caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A line of women were being herded up on deck, and he could see that Nesho and Sosho were among them. Turning his attention back to the giant he continued. "What are your terms?" "Well let me see... How 'bout I let you live and you fight for me until you die?" "No. One-season standard contract, hazard pay if sea duty is involved." Laughing, red beard replied, "Why don't I just send my men against you and kill you right now?" "You could, and may, but if you do you die and three others here will also. I have rested some so maybe four. If you hire me you get my services and you live. Quite a bargain if you ask me." "You're starting to bore me, little man. You're good, anyone can see that, but I'm not so fond of people who bluff by threatening to kill me." Red beard started to raise his hand when suddenly a short throwing knife appeared sticking out of the haft of a pike held by a soldier standing next to him. "Gods, Captain, I barely saw him move!" whispered rat face, his full attention suddenly locked to the apparition in front of him. "I don't bluff, Captain, I'm just not good at it; keep losing when I do. Now to be perfectly honest I don't know if one of these through your eye will kill you-- please don't move -- I'm somewhat nervous as it is, but even if it doesn't kill you, big man that you are, it's going to hurt. Then of course there's the eye..." "Well maybe you don't bluff, little man. Hmm, maybe we can work a deal. Can you instruct?" "I can," Dent said with a shrug. "Results depend on the pupil." "Very well. Here me terms, warrior. Two seasons, standard contract, bonus is crew share less your contract pay. Duties to include arms instructor and fighter as needed, other duties as assigned. What do you say to that, little man?" "These terms are acceptable with one provision." "And what provision might that be?" red beard glared at him suspiciously. "My property, all that I brought on board this ship, must remain with me, bar none." "Oh, and do you 'own' the cargo on this vessel, or maybe a chest of gold?" "Not in the least. A few trunks with personnel items and clothing, armor, some silver, maybe one gold. Nothing of excessive value to any but myself. You are welcome to inspect it if you wish. It is little enough but it is mine and I protect fiercely what is mine." Dent looked the red-bearded giant in the eye. "Hmm, this is somewhat peculiar. Usually whatever is on the prize is put into crew share, but then you're now crew and personal property of the crew is respected so long as it doesn't harm the ship. Very well. You have your personal property and contract. Do you agree?" "Indeed, honored sir," Dent said as he bowed. The bow and the honorary being the correct formality of hired warrior to employer. "And now, sir, if you will excuse me, I fear someone is pawing my property even as we speak." Reaching down and grabbing a piece of cloth from one of the corpses Dent picked up his sword and began walking toward the line of women, cleaning first his dirk and then his sword. Once most of the gore had been removed, he sheathed the dirk but kept the sword out and ready. As he approached the line he could see one of the sailors -- he couldn't think of them as warriors -- had his hand down Sosho's blouse obviously checking out the merchandise. "Excuse me," he said giving the pirate the benefit of the doubt. "That is my slave you have your hand on. Please remove it or I shall be forced to remove it myself. Be advised that if I find the need to do so, it will no longer be attached to your arm." "What? Who the fuck are you? These bitches belong to crew not to you, you fucking bastard!" His hand withdrew from Sosho's blouse and quickly reached down to draw the sword sheathed at his belt. Dent brought his into a casual ready position, ready for defense but not obviously ready for attack. "You claim some of these lovelyies as your own, do you little man?" Dent could feel the giant at his back. "You didn't mention anything about women!" "Personal property, Captain, personal property. And before you ask, no I do not claim all of them I claim only what is mine, this one and that one." As he spoke he pointed to Sosho and Nesho. "Nesho, Sosho! Stand here in front of me." Nesho stood and shuffled to where he pointed, head down looking at his feet. Sosho looked up and ran to him grabbing the edges of his breast plate. "Oh Dent..." she wailed. Crack! Dents backhand spun her head around and threw her to the deck where she lay sobbing. "Sosho, as we had discussed before, when in public you will call me Master, is that understood?" Still sobbing the young woman slowly stood along side her mother, head down, an angry red blotch on her cheek. "Prettiest of the bunch naturally. Hmm, I don't see their tattoo or salidin. Are you sure they're your slaves?" red-beard asked softly. "Because if they're not your property, then they belong to the crew. Can't break precedent and contract you know." "They are mine as much as any could be. Maybe I allow a bit of familiarity when we're alone -- maybe too much -- but I enjoy it and I generally do what pleases me when I can. As for tattoos, where I come from it isn't our custom to disfigure our property and I must admit ignorance as to nature of this salidin you spoke of." "Salidin, know as 'wizards collar' or 'slave's collar', is a band of metal once in place around a slave's neck it's impossible to remove. Doing so results in the death of the slave. It or a tattoo is required by Jeevel to identify a slave. They will not be allowed in Harv'el until one or the other is visible." "Well then if it is the law, then it must be done. Now as for my trunks and armor, I'm assuming you will sail the prize back to your port for unloading and at that time I will be able to claim them?" The giant nodded his head in an almost amused fashion. "Very good, then I am yours to command. Do you wish me aboard this vessel or yours?" "Oh I think mine, most definitely. If for no other reason than we still have a contract to sign, don't we? Take your baggage, all of it, to the Death Grip and ask for the ships Bo'sun; he'll get you settled in. My name is Torken Vel and I am master of the good ship Death Grip and captain of this company. I am to be addressed as Captain or Master depending on which function your business concerns. Now go. I will call for you later." "By your leave, Captain," Dent bowed warrior to officer and turned to the two women. "You two follow me and remove my things from the cabin." Without waiting he strode past them heading for the forward hatch. Dent entered their cabin noticing that their belonging had been riffled and scattered on the floor. Holding the door open allowing the women to enter, he closed the door and made sure it was barred tight. Turning he was hit by the flailing fists of a young wildcat out for blood. "Who do you think you are hitting me!" Sosho screamed pounding on him as hard as she could. "If you ever touch me a... murph!" Slapping his hand over her mouth and holding her tightly he placed his mouth next to her ear and whispered, "Shut up, you idiot!" She froze in place and tried to bite his hand. "Listen to him, Sosho" Nesho hissed in her other ear. "He saved your virtue if not your life out there! Now be quiet and behave!" Slowly she relaxed until Dent was confident enough to take his hand away from her mouth. She glared daggers at him but remained silent. Suddenly, exhaustion and the reaction to adrenalin turned his legs to rubber and he collapsed onto the stool still standing in the room. The room seemed to spin and he closed his eyes. It took considerable effort just to remain upright. Hands cupped his cheeks and he looked up into Nesho's eyes staring down at him with worry. "Are you all right?" she whispered. "Me?" he sighed. "Yes, I'm fine. But what about you two?" Looking over he could see his cousin standing, hands clenched into fists at her sides, watching him with red-rimmed tear-stained eyes filled with anger. "You hit me!" she hissed. "I'm sorry, Sosho..." he said wearily. "They were going to take you..." "You hit me!" she interrupted taking a step towards him raising one of her fists. "Sosho, it was the only way..." Crack! Sosho fell backward as Nesho strode forward ready to deliver another blow. "Hush, you stupid girl! Don't you realize what he did for us? Do you realize what they would have done to us? What they're doing to the other women right now? What they can still do to us if we aren't careful?" Dent had never see Nesho in such a rage and on she came until Sosho cowered back lifting her hands to protect her face. "They were going to rape us, you silly bit! Rip off your fine clothes, spread those pretty legs and one by one mount you like a dog takes a bitch! And when they have used us as much as they pleased, they're going to take us and sell us to some other bastard to be used as his sex toy for the rest of our lives. Grow up, Sosho! Dent has them believing we are his slaves and for the moment it looks like they will let us stay with him!" The fire suddenly left her face and she turned back to Dent. "You fought them, Dent. Why, not that I don't praise the gods, but why did they let you live?" "It seems their captain, the big red-bearded one, liked my fighting ability," he tried to smile but even that effort seemed to take too much effort. "It would appear I am now contracted to the captain, a warrior under his command. Part of the bargain was that I get to keep my own personal property. I'm sorry, but I couldn't think of anything else to do. I think we'll be all right, for a while anyway. But he did say if you were anything but my slaves, you would belong to the crew and would be sold as part of their war prize." Struggling to his feet he continued, "We don't have much time now. We are to move over to his ship and need to clean out what we can from here." Looking around at the mess, he sighed. "I don't think there's much of real value left here except our clothes, but let's gather up what we can and get moving." Stumbling over to Sosho he looked at her as she sat on the deck sobbing, looking up at him like a mouse seeing the snake that would eat her. Reaching down, wincing at the way she pulled away from him, he pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. "Sosho, Sosho, I am so sorry," he whispered in her ear. "I wish I could make this all a dream and that we would wake up and it will never have happened, but I can't. It has, and we need to survive. You two must survive; nothing else matters. Do you hear me? Nothing else matters. Remember that whatever happens, no matter what I say or do I love you. I really love you." He could feel her begin to lose some of the tension and she began to press herself against him looking for whatever feeling of safety was available. Turning his head he said, "Nesho, we need to get going. And that's another thing: no more 'cousin' or 'daughter' or 'aunt ' or 'nephew.' I am Dent or Master and you are Nesho and Sosho. I don't know if it's better if you two are mother and daughter or sisters, but no one will ever mistake the fact that you two are related. With me, it's not so obvious so we probably won't have to worry about it. Can you do this, Sosho? For all our sakes?" The girl seemed to pull herself together and pushed away from his gently. Looking up at him she smiled just a tiny bit and shook her head. "I can do it... Master," then she even giggled a little. "The worst part about this is I think you're going to like this part too much." "What?" he said shaking her slightly, "getting to boss around my bossy little cousin? Why I can't think how I could possibly get any pleasure from that!" Again she giggled softly, then she sniffed and held her head up. Looking into his eyes she nodded her head to tell him she was ready. Leaning down he kissed her forehead and turned back toward her mother. "Let's pick up what we can and be off." There wasn't much except clothes left, a comb here, a book there. In fact it seemed all the books remained although a few of them had been ripped and otherwise damaged. Dent wasn't all that surprised. Even at the school most of the students weren't what you would call voracious readers. If it wasn't about battle tactics or combat engineering it wasn't worth reading. He didn't suppose it would be much different here. Regardless, they bundled up what they could salvage and prepared to leave. Three large bundles were all they had left until Dent would be able to retrieve their trunks in port. Dent bent down to pick up the larger two but was stopped by Nesho's hand on his arm. "A man with slaves would never even think of carrying these himself. Just as we need to get used to the role of slave, you need to assume the role of master. Here, we can use these straps. Lift the two smaller ones onto my back and give the larger one to Sosho." It seemed reasonable, so carrying what little they owned they left the cabin, the women following their new master up to the main deck. ------- Chapter 3 Much had changed topside in the short time it took to retrieve their belongings. The bodies, both merchant crew and privateer, had been removed, thrown over the side Dent assumed. Here and there crew from the captured ship were kneeling, scrubbing blood and gore off the deck. So, Dent thought, they didn't kill every man onboard. It seemed the privateers weren't that stupid. Now at least there would be a few able hands to bring the ship to port. Of the women there was no sign, something that relieved Dent while making him feel a little cowardly for that relief, not that there was a damned thing he could do about it anyway. "Warrior!" Dent heard from aft and above. Looking up at the piloting platform he saw the rat-faced First mate looking at him. There was little doubt where the call had come from. Striding the length of the deck he stopped just below the platform and bowed. "Yes?" he said after raising his head up. "What may I do for you?" Rat-face stared at him for a moment or two and in a voice with very little outward emotion said, "I am Captain of this prize and you will address me as such." "Yes, Captain. What can I do for you?" Dent repeated. "Captain Vel orders ye to board the Death Grip immediately. Yer to report to the Bo'sun for berthing. After evening meal he will send for ye. Do ye understand?" "Perfectly, Captain. By your leave I go to do Captain Vel's bidding at once." Giving another short bow to Rat-face he turned and walked to the side where the two ships were still tied together. The sails on the ships had been reefed and stowed, becalming both vessels. Three large planks had been laid between the two ships. Two were being used for traffic to the Death Grip the other for return travel. Most of the men moving to the privateer were burdened with loot or stores of some kind whereas the men returning were generally empty-handed. Waving for Nesho and Sosho to follow him Dent made his way to the closest gangplank. Just as he was about to step up and onto the board he was pushed aside and only just regained his balance before almost tumbling into the water separating the ships. "Watch out, ye little shit!" Looking up Dent faced a man almost as large as Vel but without the beard and with considerable less muscle. In fact his fat made him look more like a walrus than the bear his captain resembled. "Ahah, I must not have seen you up there already, my apologies," Dent smiled wanly as he picked himself up and brushed imaginary dust off his undertunic. "Listen to the little faggot," fatso said laughing to a couple of sailor standing behind him. "Sure talks purdy, don't he?" Turning back to Dent his voice turned to a growl, "Stay out of my way, sweet lips! When ya see a real man coming yer way ya stand aside." Looking over at Sosho and Nesho his growl was replaced by a leer. "So these are the bitches they been talking about. Bit skinny for me liking but the tits look like they may have some cushion. Don't worry, honey. It won't be long afore this pissant is out of the way and a real man will mount ye." "Know any 'real men' then?" Dent said dryly. "I certainly don't see any around here." "Why you little shit, I'll break ya in two..." Fatso reached his hand out to grab Dent but the breastplate defeated his first try. Casually Dent lifted his left arm allowing the big man to grab it and pull him in. Dent looked at the hand holding his arm and then up into the leering face. "I suggest you release my arm immediately," Dent said softly, the hint of a smile on his lips. "Or you'll do what, you little prick?" "First, I'll cut off your balls," emphasizing his statement with a small thrust of the dirk that suddenly appeared in his right hand. "Or if you, as I suspect, have no balls then I'll jamb this up your cunt and into your fat belly." Aware of his exposed position Fatso dropped Dent's arm and took a step back. "Ya can't draw steel on crew!" he bellowed. "Ye all saw him! H' drew steel on me!" "Garth, leave that one alone," said one the other sailors standing behind him. "He's the one that killed nine of ours all by himself. He's a warrior! Just leave it be." "I'll have you before the mast for this, I will!" Face as red as a beet, Garth turned and stumbled away, the faces of other sailors in the area following as he went. Turning to the remaining two sailors Dent gave a short bow and extended his arm indicating they should go before him. The one giving Garth the warning grinned and waved him off. "Nay," he said, "ye were here first. Besides it were worth it to see Garth taken down a peg or two. But just a little friendly advice: Garth be one who seems to hold hard to his grudges and he's not above a little midwatch payback, if ya know what I mean." "I do and thank you for the warning. While I won't go out of my way to create enemies I have no intention of allowing myself to be indisposed by others." "Ye are a fancy talker at that," the sailor grunted. "Comes from too much book learning if ya ask me, but can't say but that yer polite enough. Names Seth, senior pilot for the Death Grip. Heard ye be looking for the Bo'sun, well get across and I'll take ye to him." Waving his hand in a shooing motion he waited until Dent and the women were across before ambling across himself. Dent jumped to the deck of his new ship, alertly scanning the area before turning around to help Nesho and Sosho down to the wooden deck. His brief glance told him volumes about his new home and the people he was going to be living with. The ship was incredibly clean. Even though the battle had taken place on the little merchant vessel he had expected remnants of the preparations to still be evident, but there were none. Everything was in place and tidy as if it were awaiting inspection. Men streamed across the gangplanks bringing back loot or returning for another trip. It was evident this was no ordinary pirate ship; this was a military vessel in all but uniform and flag, and a well-disciplined one at that. Dent looked back at the two women. Nesho was looking around with frank curiosity while Sosho stood still, eyes seeing nothing but the deck in front of her feet. Nesho caught Dent looking at her and her lips curled up in a very slight, very tentative smile. Raising his eyebrows he tried to impart a look of confidence, a confidence he didn't feel in the least. Jumping lightly to the deck Seth waved toward the stern of the ship. "Bo'sun Meltath should be around the bridge be my guess. With the First taking the prize he be acting First and should be setting watch while the Captain's occupied. Come with me and we see if we be finding him." Without waiting to see if they followed the rangy pilot started walking quickly aft. Nesho started after him but Sosho stood rooted as if she hadn't heard anything that had been said. Dent came up to her and putting his arm around her gently pulled her with him following the receding sailor. At his gentle tug her face came up, eyes wide, and the terror evident. "It's all right, sweet cake," he whispered using the pet name her mother used when she was a young girl. "We need to go find where we'll be staying. Just follow me; everything will be fine." "Oh, Dent," she said, her voice quivering slightly, "I am so scared. What will they do to us? Where will we go?" "You are doing wonderfully!" Then leaning over he whispered, "I'm scared too. We just can't let them see our fear; be brave. As to where we go, we'll see when we find this Bo'sun." Squeezing her to him he guided her down the deck after the pilot and his aunt. The piloting area of the Death Grip wasn't a platform like the Pinya's but instead was positioned above the main deck on top of what looked like a small house set at the stern of the ship. A set of real steps instead of a ladder led up to the top of the little house. Pilot Seth and Nesho were standing at the bottom of the ladder waiting for the other two to catch up. "Be best if yer women stay here til the Bo'sun be ready to see ye." Dent nodded and gently pushed Sosho over to a space on the deck he estimated would be out of the way of general traffic. Nesho joined her as they both sat down. "Stay here, you two. I'll be back pick you up in a bit." Dent wanted it to sound like a command if any were listening but not so harsh as to hurt his already overly distraught cousin. The pilot started up the steps and Dent followed. Going up the stairs he turned back to look and saw Nesho leaning over talking softly to Sosho holding Sosho's trembling hands in hers. Cresting the top of the stairs Dent immediately saw the layout of the Death Grip's piloting area was very familiar. A large wheel in the center, tied off now with nobody manning the station, and a post holding what should be the ship's compass positioned close by. Seth was standing next to a sailor who must be the Bo'sun over by the railing where the activities on both ships could be observed. Dent stopped at the head of the stairs waiting for some indication that it was all right to approach. While he waited he studied the Bo'sun trying to get a feel for what type of man he would be dealing with. Where the Captain was tall, the Bo'sun was short, maybe a good six or seven inches shorter than Dent himself. But even as short as he was the Bo'sun probably outweighed him by a good twenty, maybe thirty pounds, very little of it fat. Round and solid, he seemed as much a part of the ship as the rail he leaned against. Looking around and seeing Dent the pilot waved him over to join them. Walking slowly toward them he stopped a pace or two away and bowed as subordinate to senior. "Bo'sun Meltath, I am Warrior Dent. Captain Vel ordered me to report to you for billeting and instruction. I am at your command." "Yeah I see ye. Now what am I to do with ye the question is," the Bo'sun grunted. "I won't be lying to ye: I can't say as I'm happy ye're with us. I knew every man that died in this boarding and counted some of them as friend. I'd just a soon run you through and heave ye over the side. But then I'm not the Captain and if he signed ye up then we'll see what good use ye can be made of. What ye know of sailing, youngster?" "I am sorry to admit, very little," Dent replied. "I was trained to fight on land and only know what I have seen over the past few weeks. As for what I can do, the Captain mentioned instruction, which I can do. Weapons maintenance and repair, and of course I can fight. Additionally I have a strong back and learn fairly quickly. Whatever you assign me, I shall endeavor to learn as best I can." "Well Seth, he do talk pretty as ye say." Meltath studied the young man in front of him seeming to come to a conclusion. "Very well, youngster. We'll see if ye can teach the men how to fight a wee bit better. I hear ya kilt seven by yerself and if ye can do that, maybe ye know something we be needing. But now I be thinking I need to get ye a berth. I understand ya be carrying some baggage with ye." "I have some small amount of personal items and two slaves. I also have two trunks and heavy armor in the hold." "What's in the prize's hold ye get when we hit port. As for your slaves, well crew don't usually keep personnel slaves on board, but they can either bunk with the rest of the slaves in their quarters or squeeze in yer bunk with ye. Yer decision; just don't bother me or anyone else." Turning slightly, still keeping his eyes on Dent, he bellowed in a voice surprisingly loud and clear, "Festou! Festou! Where are ye, ye worthless lump? Get yer ass up here. I have a task for ye!" As if a wizard waved his hand creating it out of thin air a head popped up over the edge of the deck at the steps followed by the body of a young boy. Red hair bouncing in an unruly mop, the boy reminded Dent more of a monkey he had once seen in a carnival sideshow than a human being. He couldn't have been more than eight or nine seasons old. Moving quickly with the boundless energy of extreme youth, the boy bounced -- it was the only way to describe his movement -- over to the Bo'sun rendering a fingertip touch of his brow in mock salute. "'ere Bo'sun sir!" Even at rest the boy seemed to vibrate, giving the impression he was going to shoot off in a random direction at any moment. "Festou, where have ye been hiding? Well never ye mind, I want ya to take this young warrior here -- never did catch yer name -- up to forward crew quarters and get h'm settled in. Then show h'm the galley, head and a short tour of the ship. The Captain will be calling for h'm after evening meal so until then we won't know his station." "Dent, honorable sir; my name is Dent," he said when the Bo'sun turned back towards him. "I ain't no honorable sir, I be this ships Bo'sun, ye remember that. Aye, well Warrior Dent, this here is Festou, ship's boy. He be taking ye to yer quarters and show ye around a bit. His worthless hide is yers for awhile, until ya get used to us here. One word of warning, warrior." His eyes suddenly became very cold and hard. "I don't allow no trouble in the crew. This be a good tight ship and I aim to keep it that way, ye understand?" "Perfectly hor... Bo'sun sir," remembering to change his honorific just in time. "I am under contract now and shall respond to my comrades in arms as required under the Code." Pausing just a second he continued, "The fact is, Bo'sun, I've had enough trouble today as it is and have no desire for more." "Aye, that I believe. Very well. Festou, be off with ye now. Dismissed." Bowing first to the Bo'sun and then to the pilot Dent turned and followed the bouncing ball of energy down the stairs to the main deck and over to the waiting women. They were sitting on the deck where he had left them but were not alone. Standing around them were five sailors leering and making obscene solicitations. "Hey, sweet thing, how about ye and yer sister come by me rack tonight. I'll sigh ya out [BM1]and show you what a real man can do for ya before some needle-dick noble buys ya off the block." "Lets have a look at the merchandise honey. Maybe ya can earn a little extra if ye are especially good." Nesho kept her face expressionless as she worked the knots out of a piece of cloth that could have once been a blouse. Sosho was trying to emulate her mother but there were tears visible running down her cheek. Both were doing their best to ignore their 'suitors' and pretend they didn't exist. Dent came to a halt behind the men and with his hands clasped behind his back took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Nesho! Sosho! It's time to go. This young gentleman is to show us to our berth. Pick up our gear and let's move. Gentlemen, if you will kindly excuse us." The men started laughing as they turned but seemed to choke when they saw the armored, and armed, warrior standing behind them. Still blood spattered from the morning's battle, the faint smile noticeable on the apparition's face did nothing to quell their immediate unease. Sosho jumped up and ran over and tried to hide behind him, her arms around his waist and face buried in his backplate. "Who are ye?" asked one of the larger sailors. "And who says ye get them first? I got seniority here and that means I gets one of the first picks. Ship's rules!" "Indeed, I have no intention of disputing either your seniority nor your right to 'pick' as you say," suddenly the faint smile vanished like it was never there, "but not with my property. I think you'll find me fairly easy to get along with if we can come to an agreement. You agree to leave my property alone and I will leave you alone." Using his hand to sweep in both the crying girl and Nesho he continued, "These are mine. They are not for sale and I do not allow anyone to 'borrow' them." Gesturing to Nesho she stood up and pushed through the men to stand by his side. As he started to turn away he stopped short and turned back. "However," he said thoughtfully, "this one is a credible seamstress and the other knows a bit about herb medicine. If you know of anyone in need of these services I would be more than happy to discuss fees. Pass that around, if you please." Without waiting for a response he turned back and prepared to follow the obviously frightened Festou. "Come back here, damn you! I'm not done with ye yet!" It was the big sailor again red-faced from embarrassment and anger. "That's the one who kilt Kreis and Skelen," one of the others whispered, loudly. "Heard tell he kilt nine in all, all by 'imself. Cut them down like they was dogs, and with nary a scratch on 'im." "Yea, well Kreis and Skelen wern't worth a shit if ye ask me," the big one said but with a little less conviction. "Crap!" another piped in. "They was two of our best boarders they was. Heard tell 'e moves like a fucking ghost, coulda kilt the captain but didn't. Also heard 'e's full blooded Warrior, contracted to us now." "Shit! Fucking warriors is more dangerous than fucking snakes. Should keep 'um chained up." "Let 'im 'ave 'is pretties, Harg. If 'e gets kilt we get 'um anyway." Ignoring their jibes Dent set off to follow Festou as he scrambled forward up the deck. Sosho walked behind him holding his belt as if she were afraid he would suddenly disappear. She had one hand on his belt, the other holding her bundle of clothes. Nesho followed carrying the remaining bits of their gear. At the forward end of the ship -- the 'bow' Dent tried to remind himself -- they passed through a hatch and down another set of stairs. "Ladders" he was informed by the exuberant Festou; there were no stairs on a ship, just ladders. Chattering as he led, Festou pointed out told to them as they passed the sail loft, bo'sun's locker, and laundry, all far too fast for Dent to absorb any but a small portion. So it was down the ladder and forward again by way of a very narrow and dim passageway until they came to an open room that had to be about as far forward as it was possible to go. The space was almost as dimly lit as the passageway but as their eyes became accustomed to the dark they could see tiers of bunks, canvas stretched between wooden frames with what appeared to be rag-filled mattresses. Some were two tiers high and others in the rear on the room where there was more headroom, three. A few were occupied; makeshift curtains pulled to shade the sleeping occupant. Snores emanated from a few of the enclosed bunks and from one a low sobbing and the rhythmic thumping that was the unquestionable sounds of sex. Somebody was already taking his turn with one of the new girls it seemed. Cringing away from that bunk, Sosho closed in behind Dent and held him even tighter while turning her head and biting her lip. At least Festou also had the decency to look away and become quiet for a record moment or two. "Most of these here bunks is already taken, your warriorship. It ain't the best crew quarters, it being so far up forward and all, and all the good ones near the rear here got somebody spoken for. But if you likes, sir, there's a couple way up front here, kind of out of the way, they is. Not much room and they be noisy and rough if'n we hit some real seas but you and the ladies may like it, sir." "Festou." "Yes sir?" he squeaked. "It's Dent. My name is Dent. This is Nesho and this is Sosho." "Yes, Dent sir, of course, Dent sir," he continued chattering. "Now as I was saying they used to keep me up here, being the ship's boy and smallest and all, but the Bo'sun wanted me back near him. Wants to make sure I ain't corkin' off, he says. Anyways, it's got the two bunks and a little locker. If ya needs more, maybe we can find some." At the extreme forward end of the quarters there was a large obstruction, "Anchor locker, Dent sir," with a small passageway around one side. Turning that corner they could see they were indeed as far forward as they could possibly go. The two walls -- 'bulkheads' he reminded himself -- curved around together into the unmistakable shape of a ship's bow, or at least what it would look like from the inside. There was very little room, just enough for the four of them to stand. Festou climbed up on the locker and plopped down out of the way. Directly across from the locker were two bunks. The lower bunk appeared to be a little more than half again the size of the top and the top looked like it could be folded back against the wall allowing someone or a few someones the chance to sit upright on the lower. Looking around, Dent pursed his lips and exhaled slowly. "Ah yes. Well we will be very cozy here for sure, but I think this will do nicely." "Well, Dent sir, if'n you want your whores kin sleep down in quarters with the rest of them. Not very nice down there, though, and I can't say but there may be some trouble with the crew if they be down there if ya take my meaning sir." "I think this will be fine, Festou. And Festou..." "Yes Mr. Dent sir?" "Nesho and Sosho are not whores. They belong to me and I don't appreciate them being call whores." Twisting atop the locker until he was almost directly face to face with Nesho Festou looked her right in the eye and said, "You ain't no whore?" Staring right back at him and keeping her face expressionless -- well almost; there was a hint of a smile that probably wouldn't take much to come to the surface -- she answered, "No, Festou, we aren't whores. We belong to master Dent alone." "He don't get money when you fuck someone?" his face plainly incredulous. "No we don't get money, Festou, but then we don't fuck anyone but Master Dent." "No one else? Just him?" "Just him," she agreed. "Well I be damned! Never heard of such a thing. Maybe some of the slaves, ya know before they was took. But never after. Once the crew get done with them they fuck anyone, any time. Damn! That ain't gonna make you many friends on this ship here, Mr. Dent sir. Now I'm too young to fuck; can't see any fun in it anyhow. Now some of the crew, well they like to do 'things' with some of the younger boys but I never let 'em do dat with me. The Captain, he don't take lightly to anyone forcing himself on anyone in crew who don't want it, see, so they pretty much leaves me alone now." "Well that's good to hear," reaching over Nesho fingered the torn and tattered shirt the little ship's boy was wearing. "We can fix this for you, if you like. Won't be good as new, of course, but certainly better than what you have now." "Can ya?" he said looking down at his raggedy shirt. "I try best I can but they don't give me nothing but what others throw out." Glancing up suspiciously, "What ya want for it?" "Nothing Festou. You've been very helpful to us so far and this is something we can do in return. Besides, if others see what we can do maybe they will want us to do it for them and then they will pay." "Well I's can see where that may help ya," he said somewhat mollified. Then leaning over closer to her ear he whispered, "But is it straight with yer master? Will Mr. Dent Sir allow ya?" Looking over at Dent, Nesho raised her eyebrow in a questioning manner. Trying hard to stifle a laugh he waved his hand like that of a parent indulging a favored child. "You see," she said turning back to Festou, "that isn't a problem. Master Dent allows us considerable freedom so long as we keep within the bounds of propriety. Do you have a spare shirt?" When he shook his head no she reached into one of their packs and took out a wrinkled ball of cloth. Shaking it out, the ball suddenly became a shirt. "Wear this until we can mend yours. It's somewhat big, I admit, but it will do for a day or so." Wiping his hands vigorously on his pants Festou reached for the shirt, his hand trembling like he was afraid it was about to bite him. "Gods Mistress! I ain't never had nothing this fine afore! Take good care with it I will, you'll see, right good care!" Quickly he stripped off his tattered shirt and slipped on the wrinkled spare. Tucking it into his trousers it still looked like he could swim in it. The shirt was one of Dent's old ones, much too small for him and used mainly by Sosho when she had dirty work to do and didn't want to soil her own clothes. "Mo... Master Dent, when do we eat?" Sosho spoke in almost a whine, "we haven't had anything since this morning and I am sooo hungry." Frowning, Dent look over to the ship's boy. "I don't know. We probably missed the midday meal and we still need to find out where we need to go and when. You'll just have to hold on until we find out. Now isn't the time to be drawing attention to ourselves. Well, Festou, when are the meals and where do we need to go?" Festou explained that morning meal was served between second watch, six bells and third watch second bell; midday from third watch six bells to fourth watch, second bell; and supper from fifth watch, sixth bell to sixth watch, second bell. When asked to explain he expounded on the manner time was kept on board ship. Since only a very few on the ship had timepieces, they being extremely expensive. The sea air wreaked havoc with their delicate mechanisms, so time was told by the watch section and increment of the watch. The day was broken into six watches of four hours each starting at midnight. Each watch was then broken down again into eight bells sounding on the hour and half hour. Hence second watch, sixth bell, would be seven o'clock as they were used to it. Normally it was shortened to just the two numbers, so if someone asked when asked when lunch was being served the answer would be 'third six' or eleventh hour. The bell was rung throughout the day from the pilot deck and could generally be heard everywhere on the ship. Dent remembered hearing the bells on the Pinya but had never heard the explanation of what they meant. "Crew eats in the galley mess deck; that would be Mr. Dent Sir." As exasperating as it was this seemed to have become Dent's full name according to Festou. "Now slaves is usually feed only a eve meal and then in their quarters. Ain't never seen any eating on the mess deck afore. Don't normally want to have anything to do with crew, if ya know what I mean. Now officers, they eats in the wardroom; that be back in their quarters in the stern. Now if the mistresses don't want to eat in quarters I can probably bring 'um something here. I can usually sweet talk the cook if he be in a good mood." Looking a bit thoughtful he continued, "Maybe if you be willing to do a bit of mending or other little things for him, it might help 'is mood a bit too." Tousling his hair, Nesho grinned and said, "You are indeed a wonder, Festou, I'm sure we can work out something with this gentleman. Eating here would probably be much preferable to eating in 'quarters.' Find out what you can and let's see if we can come to an agreement." Faintly they heard a bell ring, four sets of two rings each. "Eight bells," sighed Festou. "Gots to get up and see to the watch change. We'll be underway soon and I be required to make sure the watch has everything 'e needs. I'll see about grabbing ya something on my way back." With that he jumped off the locker and darted out of their tiny alcove. When their little guide had finally left, Dent suddenly felt the strength drain out of every muscle and he slumped to the floor his back against the locker and his legs stretched out as far as they were able. Nesho folded the upper bunk against the wall and seeing a lanyard obviously placed there for that purpose, secured it. Doing this turned the lower bunk into a bench which she promptly sat on. Hesitating only for a few seconds, Sosho sat beside her. "What are we to do, Mother?" she said softly her fingers playing with the pleats in her skirt. "First, we must remember that there is no 'mother, ' or 'daughter, ' 'nephew, ' or 'cousin.' There is Master Dent, Nesho and Sosho. What we are to do is survive. Whatever it takes, we survive." To Dent she looked tired, very tired, but her eyes still held a look of steel determination as she surveyed their new living space and then her nephew. "Secondly we need to get 'Master Dent' cleaned up. You do look very fierce covered with blood, my lad, but for what you need to do you need to look the part of a warrior and not some blood-soaked savage. Clean, cool and professional." Guffawing -- he was too tired to laugh -- he grunted back, "Well if I can get cleaned up then I'll at least be one of three and if we get paid then maybe even make it two of three. Although blood soaked savage seems to work around here. Gods! I am so tired." "Are you all right Dent?" she asked softly. "You killed men today. I've heard that changes people. Are you changed?" Shaking his head, he leaned back and closed his eyes. "I don't feel any different. It still doesn't seem real. I saw them come at me and suddenly I was back at the academy on the training grounds. It was like I wasn't even involved." Opening his eyes he looked at her. "Everything has changed: I've changed, you've changed and even Sosho's changed. I feel like I'm falling and only if I keep running will I be able to stay upright. I'm sorry I couldn't stop this. I wanted to protect you and look where that got us." "Silly man!" she said kicking his stretched out leg lightly. "Without you we would be dead, or worse by now. Never forget that. What you have done so far has been nothing less than a miracle, a true miracle. Now if you can, why don't you get out of that armor and go see if you can clean yourself up a bit? We'll see what we can do to clean this." Struggling to his feet, he started to untie the cords holding the plate in place. Standing up and brushing his hands aside Nesho deftly untied them and helped lift the heavy body armor from his torso. Letting it fall to the deck he kissed her on the forehead and left looking for somewhere to get cleaned up. ------- Chapter 4 Picking one of the more rag-like cloths from their bundles Nesho started to wipe the blood and gore off the bright metal plate. "Start putting our things away, dear," she said without looking up. Moving very slowly Sosho began to untie the bundles, laying their contents out on the bunk sorting them into piles as she went. Suddenly she stopped and looked over at her mother. "Moth... Nesho, what are we going to do if they come for us?" There was little doubt as to the identity of they. "Nothing, sweet thing, nothing. If they do, we submit and survive." "But how can we do nothing?" Her voice trembled barely controlling the tears. Nesho stopped what she was doing and looked up at her daughter silently. Finally she sighed, "We can do nothing because there is nothing we can do. If we resist, they will hurt us, or worse. If we are raped we will live. You have never known a man my sweet, you don't understand. For the last few years before your father died he was... not gentle... with me. "You know that after you were born he caught a fever. I am sure it sterilized him, although he would never admit it. He knew it, though, and it changed him. I think he blamed me that we never had another baby; it made him mean, spiteful. When he decided to take me he made sure it hurt as much as possible. So you see I know it's something you can live through. You close your eyes and pretend you are somewhere else. It helps, a little. "But maybe they won't come for us," she continued. "Right now the only thing protecting us is Dent's reputation. To them he is a fierce and very dangerous warrior. You heard what they were talking about: he killed nine men today. Nine men, by himself. He is the only thing standing between them and us. He scares them. They are terrified of what he could do, as well they should be. "We must do nothing, nothing, to damage that reputation. It must be known that we are the undisputed property of the most dangerous man on this ship if we want to avoid what is happening to those other poor women." "But he's Dent, just Dent!" Sosho shook her head as if denying everything Nesho was saying. "No!" Nesho hissed. "He is Master Dent, Warrior Dent, Dent the Magnificent, Dent the Cruel. Never forget that! Master Dent. We are his; he is not ours. He owns us now just as surely as he owns this armor or his sword. You must treat him like he is the center of your being, like without him you will die, because it is truly so." The vehemence of her words shocked the young girl. "Dent the Cruel?" Sosho giggled. "He's such a big puff, he couldn't hurt a fly." She was quiet for a moment. "You, you let that boy think you were, ah, sleeping with him." Sosho's eyes were troubled. "Of course I did," Nesho answered calmly. "That's exactly what they expect. In fact if they suspect that we're not sleeping with him they're going to start wondering why not and that's something we simply can't afford." "But sleeping with him? Yuck! The thought makes me sick!" Her hand went to her mouth as if she was trying to stop retching. Then, if possible, her eyes got even wider and she whispered, "We! You said we! You don't expect me to pretend to, oh, be with him do you?" "You mean fucking him?" Nesho said the word slowly and with emphasis. "You'd better, little one. There better be no doubt in anyone's mind on this ship that he is fucking you. Our lives depend on it!" "Mother!" she hissed. Smiling Nesho continued to hammer into the girl with her words. "What, baby? You don't like the word 'fuck?' Well that's what it is. What do you think was going on behind that curtain? Fucking, that's what was going on. What do you think is going to happen to you if we fail here? These men are going to line up and one by one spread your legs and stick their little spears into you until they cum and they will do it as often as they like and there is nothing we can do about it." Suddenly her voice dropped down, dripping with compassion and she sat beside her trembling daughter holding her tight. "Oh baby, I'd always hoped you would find some nice young man you could love and be happy with, but I'm not sure that can happen now. For now we must survive and if we have to let, or make, everybody on board this ship think we are sleeping with Dent to survive then that's what we'll do." "Oh gods! What it we really have to do it?" Sosho was shaking again. "I don't think it will come to that, but if it does, would that be so bad?" "Mother! That's... that's sick!" "Hmm, scandalous maybe, but not sick. Remember he is also man and not just your cousin. A very handsome man at that. Think to yourself if you had to do it would you rather be with Dent, who you know loves you, or with say... Garth." "Well when you put it that way... but Dent? Yuck." Laughing, Nesho hugged Sosho tightly again and let go. "If we play the part well enough then we should never have to worry about it now will we... ? Besides, think of poor Dent! An old crone like me or his skinny little cousin? He probably would think 'yuck' also." "Harrumph," Sosho sniffed, "You're no old crone and I'm certainly not so skinny any longer. He'd have to be crazy not to want us." She sighed and let her shoulders slump, "I don't know if I can do this, Mama. I just want to go home and have you and Dent take care of me again like it used to be. But I'll try to be strong, really I will." "I know you will, baby, I know you will," Nesho smiled tenderly at her daughter. "So what do we do? Take turns sharing this bunk with him?" "Hmm," her mother said thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought that far ahead, to tell the truth. It depends on how closely they watch us. For now I guess I'll share with him; it shouldn't bother either of us all that much. If it looks like we need to, then maybe we'll take turns. We'll just see how it plays out. No sense looking too far ahead; concentrate on the now and wait for the then to take care of itself." "Speaking of the now, it's back to work for us slaves. Need to get the master's things cleaned and presentable now, don't we?" "Yes, Momma," she said with a sigh. Then her mouth twisted up like she bit into something very bitter. "Dent? Yuck!" The object of this fevered discussion was at that time on the main deck trying to stay out of the way of sailors running here and there. With all the activity it was obvious something was going on but it wasn't until he saw the planks between the two ships being pulled back aboard the warship that he understood: the ships were separating and getting ready to set sail. Although this was interesting in an abstract sort of way, it didn't get him cleaned up nor suggest a plan for living through the next few hours. Nesho was right, he thought. I need to look the part if these bastards are going to believe me. Yes, he was a trained warrior and now a blooded one as well, he mused, but one battle against pretty pathetic sailor/solders doesn't a warrior make. At least for the moment they were all alive and together and as Nesho said, that was a miracle in and of itself. Now how was he going to keep up this farce? One slip is all it will take and he'd be dead -- not important -- and his aunt and cousin would be truly slaves and all that entailed -- important! Gods, he groaned, give me strength! First things first, and the first thing is getting cleaned up. Strolling over to a sailor who didn't seem to be particularly busy, he asked where he might find some water to wash off all the blood. Although not overtly unfriendly, his new acquaintance didn't exactly go out of his way to welcome Dent aboard, either, which was just fine with him. He didn't want enemies but he wasn't particularly interested in friends, either; allies maybe, but not friends. Although the sailor watched him like someone would a strange dog they weren't sure was safe, he at least pointed him towards the area where he could use a bucket to dip seawater up to use in a wash down. He explained that the large casks spaced around the main deck, and some below, were fresh water that shouldn't be used for bathing. After washing with seawater a little fresh water on a rag was used to wipe the body down. Not much different than the other ship they had been traveling on. Stripping down to his small clothes he listened to the sailors relaying orders to and from the rigging as they set and trimmed the sails. The slight breeze began to fill the sheets and he could hear them cracking as they stiffened under its force. Ponderously the great ship shook itself and began to make headway. In the distance he could see the Pinya also with sail up, the small white bow wave the only indication she was also making way. The seawater stung slightly as he rinsed his body removing the evidence of the morning's business. Several small cuts became evident as he washed and undoubtedly some of the blood he washed away had been his own but the battle high followed by exhaustion kept him from feeling any of these fairly minor wounds. He noticed that none of them had been bleeding recently, however the saltwater washing removed the forming scab from a few and they were starting to ooze slightly. He reminded himself to have Nesho dab some ointment on them when she got time. Infection right now would be unfortunate. Quickly rinsing his tunic and trousers he laid them out in the afternoon sun to dry. Drying quickly, the saltwater left his skin feeling a bit crusty but the mild discomfort was easily ignored. What couldn't be ignored was the tightness and cramping in his muscles. Ingrained habit and the discipline of training demanded this be taken care of before serious injury or disability could set in. Groaning with the effort he began the slow methodical stretching and limbering exercises that were as much a part of life to him now as breathing or eating. Bend, stretch, flex, his young supple body automatically entering into the dance of the T'chi. Said to be as old as time the T'chi looked to the casual observer to be nothing more than random movements done in slow motion. The Crane, to the Goose, flowing into the Cat and then the Hawk. Each position carefully choreographed, every muscle stretched and flexed. Slowly the body was brought into balance, heart rate accelerated and then brought down to normal. The seeming ease and grace of the movements were belied by the sheen of sweat covering his body. Muscles protested; the desire to quicken the pace resisted. Finally with the cooling down stretches completed Dent became fully aware of his surroundings again. He was again amazed at how quickly the time seemed to pass when he was fully engaged in his exercises. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he was attacked during the T'chi or if he would even be aware of it. He had asked his instructors that very question once receiving little more than a smile and an assurance that the body would react as needed under such circumstances. As his surroundings came back into focus, breathing deeply but not heavily, he was aware he was not alone. Leaning against railings or squatting along bulkheads a group of some ten or twelve sailors lounged while seemingly relaxed, while watching him intently. Although he wanted to ignore their presence, to do so didn't feel right. Coming to attention he executed a short equal-to-equal bow and turned back to his clothing at the rail. "Pretty little dance there, youngster. Any particular reason for it other than for maybe our amusement?" Turning back Dent locked eyes with the sailor who had spoken. He was older than most, a brown weather-beaten face covered by a gray beard with piercing ice-blue eyes set above. There didn't seem to be any malice in those eyes, nor friendship either, just curiosity. Bending down, he picked up the bucket of seawater and poured it over his head and body rinsing much of the sweat away. "It's called the T'chi," he said softly turning back to oldster that made the comment. "It's an exercise used to tune the body and mind, to prepare." Then with a grin he added, "If it also amuses you then that's just a bonus." The oldster guffawed while another added, "Ain't never seen nothing like that. Something ye see maybe from the Putram's court whores, I'd expect." "Aye, I've seen the like," another spoke. "Seen them pet warriors the Putram's got doing that when we be in port. Must be a warrior thing, I guesses." "Yes, a 'warrior thing'," mused Dent. It was true: Many of the various academies practice the ancient art -- not all, but a few. "That's as reasonable an explanation as any, I suppose." Bending down he picked up his clothes and shook them out. His small clothes were still wet from sweat and rinse water, so he decided to carry them back to the berthing compartment. Seeing that the show was for the most part over, the crowd started to break up and the sailors left in groups of two or three. The only one remaining was the oldster still eyeing him with an air of calm expectancy. "Dell's the name," he said, "seaman, first rank." "I'm Dent, warrior." "So I can see Warrior Dent," those eyes studied him a bit longer. "Why are ye here?" Dent could feel something now; this wasn't just some common sailor. How he knew it he wasn't able to say for sure; it was just something he knew. This old man may be curious but that wasn't the only reason he was asking questions. This was some kind of test. Whose test and to what end was unknown but it was a test. What was the point and how did he pass it or did he really care if he passed it? Yes, he needed to care, he decided. On some level this was important, but what were they looking for? Dent sighed, the ultimate why was unknown and would probably remain unknown, so how to proceed? Classes at school didn't just focus on physical combat and ability. Part of being a warrior was dealing with other soldiers and, of course, the enemy. During one such class an instructor once said, "Tell the truth, as much as you can anyway. If you tell the truth you don't have to remember what you lied about. It also makes the lies you do have to tell that much more effective." Since he did have some big lies he needed to protect then maybe the truth would be best. "I am here because the ship I was a passenger on was taken and in exchange for my life your captain offered me a contract as a warrior." Not pretty but it was the truth. "Ye ain't under contract to anyone else then? And where were ye going?" the eyes drilled into him mercilessly. "No, no contract. I was going to sign up with Putram Malshall. It was known he was hiring, but until today I was unemployed. Why do you want to know?" "We want to know what we have among us. Do we have a snake that will bite us when our backs are turned or are ya a new weapon that may help us survive?" "Ah, well I don't know if I can help you survive. That depends on what uses I'm put to and what we meet up with. Will I turn on you? All I can say is I have given my oath to the captain and have agreed to sign his contract. As long as that contract is honored then my sword is his to command, within the bounds of the Code of course." Dell stared at the young warrior for a moment or two and then seemed to make up his mind about something. Uncrossing his arms he came upright. "Aye," he said, "can't ask for more than that, now can we? Very well, youngster, welcome aboard. For the most part if ye don't bother us we won't bother ye. Be aware, though, some of those men ye killed this morning had friends aboard this ship." When Dent just shrugged his shoulders he quickly continued, "Aye, fortunes of war and the like for sure, but that don't stop the feelings a man may have nor help when a shipmate gets cut down and the killer is right there in front of ye. Be aware, we'll be watching from a distance." Dent nodded his thanks as the old sailor turned to leave. But just as he thought their conversation was over Dell turned back to him. "I understand you got a couple of doxies on board with ya. Ye hiring them out for comfort?" "No," Dent felt his temper flare up but kept it in check. To these men women were nothing more than mattress pads to be used and passed around. The thought of whoring out his aunt and cousin made him almost physically ill. But that was how these men lived; they probably hardly ever saw a women except as a captive or in one of the port whorehouses; the concept of wife or helpmate was a foreign to them as snow on a desert island. "I do not hire them out," he continued carefully, "but you can let it be known that one is a very fine seamstress and those skills are for hire. The other can cast figures and knows a bit of herb lore. If you want something for aches or a fever, she knows what to do." Laughing, the old sailor said, "Don't need no figures cast, that's for sure, but the bones do ache now and then. She do broken bones and stitching?" "I don't know if she has ever done broken bones," he admitted, "but I will check. Stitching, yes most assuredly. I can attest to that from personnel experience." "That may be handy at that, and a seamstress too. Do most of my needlework myself but it could be done better. Well we'll see, youngster. Two doxies for one man just don't seem fair, though." "They've been in my family for a long time. I consider their care a point of personal honor. If you would be so inclined you might spread the word: I don't expect them to be treated like noble ladies but I do expect their persons to be respected." "Don't seem to be anything worth dying for there, young fellow," his eyes narrowed slightly. "I sincerely hope our fellow crewmen feel the same way, Master Dell." "Ah yes! Well I see what ye mean. Aye I hope you're right there, youngster." Without another word Dell turned and ambled down the deck. His tunic and trousers were still damp so Dent stood by the railing waiting. There wasn't any pressing hurry to return to the berthing compartment and he thought it would be better if they were dry before putting them back on. He left his eyes unfocused while his mind tried to grasp the enormity of the situation he found himself in. Standing nearly naked on the deck of a ship that had recently taken his former transportation didn't bother him greatly. Nudity to a soldier or warrior was so common as to be merely a condition to be noted but not concerned about. Given the close confines of a ship underway he reasoned it must be about the same for sailors. Now the fact that he was standing on a ship whose crew was recently trying their best to kill him was an interesting twist. Thinking of that brought back memories of the stories the instructors at the academy used to tell during meals and other various classes. Until now he used to think their tales of going into battle in the morning, having their contracts sold or traded between the various antagonists at midday meal and fighting against their former comrades later that same afternoon as fantasies, stories to amuse the students. As much as it was drilled into the trainees that a warrior owes his allegiance only to his contract, not to any person or position, the reality of changing sides without a thought did not come easily to him. Yet here he was: Hours ago the men around him were the enemy, now they were his comrades. This more than anything drove home to him the difference between warriors and soldiers. Even aside from the fact that their training was as different as, say, between that of an engineer and a bricklayer, the difference went deep, deep to the core of their very being. Ultimately a warrior was beholden to nobody but his contract holder, the warriors Guild and the Code of Conduct that bound the warriors and Guild's actions tighter then chains of steel. Without the Guild and the Code a warrior was nothing more than a highly trained sell-sword mercenary; with it they were one, if not the most powerful force in the islands. Malshall, Jeevel, Salas, Mt. Look or any of the other dozen or so semi-independent nations in their archipelago may be governed differently; some had hereditary leadership, some appointed dictators like the Putrams; some he had even heard elected new leaders every so often; but wherever, whomever and whenever, the Guild remained the one constant among them. Vehemently apolitical, the Guild concentrated on the promotion and protection -- not physical but economic -- of it's Guild members. The Benevolent Guild of Combat Consultants, known everywhere as simply the Guild, came as close as anything to a constant cohesive binding force throughout the islands. Similarly, its Code of Members Conduct, typically referred to as the Code, came close to being a universal set of international laws. Of course they were only binding on its members and their employers, which included nearly every governing body in the islands. Contract and Code enforcement were both utterly honest and brutally effective. Warriors in the Guild may not often live to enjoy retirement but while alive they knew with a certainty their rights and privileges would be protected to the letter of the law regardless of the violating parties. No few well-established governments rich in both wealth and military power were now mere footnotes in history because of their mistaken beliefs that Guild contracts were binding on others but not on them. So pervasive and inherent to the common culture of these islands was the Code and reverence of the Guild it allowed one of its youngest members to casually walk unmolested on the deck of a ship that until very recently been filled with the 'enemy.' Of course the seafaring community was much less homogeneous in its makeup than the island inhabitants. Many were from faraway lands where the Guild was nothing more than myth, the stuff of legends, their acceptance was much less assured. Fortunately for Dent for the most part those that didn't recognized the Code as an almost divine institution did recognize the fact he was far deadlier than anything else presently aboard. As is often the case, fear offered protection where law and custom didn't. While the Code offered protection for him and his property, two of the most important pieces of which were his aunt and cousin now, it also bound him to the service of the one precipitating the need for protection. Dent had never been know as a whimsical type of person, Nesho and Sosho having often complained about his lack of humor and joy. It was not entirely true but it was a fact that he was a fairly somber and serious person by nature. However he did have a good sense of irony and their situation tickled that sense. Naturally his thoughts drifted back to his small family and what he could do to protect them. That he now 'owned' them was absurd; he no more owned them than he owned the sea or the sky. However, it was also crystal clear that their continued well-being and ability to stay together required this fiction to seem as real as possible. This part was going to be difficult. Neither Dent nor any of his family had ever owned slaves; they weren't very common in Salas and besides they never had the money it would cost. How did one treat one's slaves? He wasn't sure. He saw how the crewmen treated the captured women but he would rather die and them with him, before he could do that. Sighing, Dent realized he had to talk to Nesho about it. If anyone would know or could find out, she could. His aunt was without a doubt the most brilliant woman he knew, possibly even one of the smartest people he knew. If there had been any justice she would have been trained at one of the physician guilds and would have been a real doctor instead of a hedge-witch herb lore practitioner. Of course thinking of her also started him thinking about how good she felt sleeping next to him the previous night: the softness of her skin, the swell of the breast, the unmistakable smell of mature woman; which then caused his cock to inflate. Blushing, he quickly scooped up his clothes and headed back to their berth. Hoping against hope his erection would subside by the time he returned, he tried to think about everything that needed to be done. It helped. Some. ------- Chapter 5 Passing through the berthing compartment Dent could feel the eyes following him as he moved along. Some were hostile, most seemed merely curious. This time he ignored the stares and continued on his way. Rounding the corner around the chain locker he momentarily wondered if he had taken a wrong turn somewhere and was lost. The space was clean, really clean. It even seemed a little brighter because it was so clean. And tidy. He could see that everything had been stowed and where there wasn't room for the items, they were tied into neat little bundles and placed out of the way. His armor and weapons were hanging from hooks within easy reach. The top rack was folded up and a small lantern illuminated the two women on the lower bunk. Sosho was sitting cross-legged working a needle through a rag bundle that could have once been a shirt. Nesho was leaning back against the bulkhead, eyes closed. Looking up, Sosho almost shouted, "There you are! Where have you been? We've been worried sick about you. You've been gone forever, just forever!" Nesho opened her eyes and smiled slightly, "Quiet, child! I'm sure the Master had important business to take care of. He comes and goes at his whim and not ours." Looking at Nesho he mumbled "Sorry," then at Sosho he grinned a little and teased, "So you were worried about me, were you? It's nice to know you care." "Well, ah, well of course I care," she said a bit flustered. "I mean if you fall over the side or something, where does that leave us?" Then she said with an almost deadly sweet voice, "Besides, how could I not be concerned about my lord and master, the center of my universe, my only reason for being..." "That's enough Sosho," said Nesho sharply. "Remember, the walls have ears." "Yes, ma'am," she answered very softly, then looking up a Dent she mouthed the word sorry. Still feeling a bit wicked Dent bent down and kissed her forehead, "Why of course you're forgiven, Little Bit. We must make allowances for the young, after all." Deftly he moved back just before she could stab him with the needle in her hand. "Master, please," Nesho pleaded with her eyes. "Of course," he sighed, slumped to the floor and leaned back against the locker. "Sorry." Looking around the space he exclaimed, "You've done a remarkable job here! What fools are these sailors to not employ the woman's touch. This is almost livable now, maybe even more than almost!" "They only want a woman's touch for one thing, the pigs!" Sosho hissed. "Festou showed us the captives' quarters while you were out. Oh Dent, it was horrible! The way they make them live, what they do to them. R-right there out in the open where anyone could see! They didn't care!" Tears started running down her cheeks, "and some of the girls, some even younger than me, one I know isn't more than thirteen... Oh gods, Dent!" Struggling to get up, he squeezed himself in next to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulder pulling her head to his chest. "There, there, sweet thing. We're not lost yet. You're not down there and nothing will happen to you while I'm here. Shush and rest yourself." Looking up over her head, Dent met Nesho's eyes. He could see her eyes were brimming with tears, too, and her lips were trembling. Lifting his hand he stroked her cheek and then grasping the back of her neck pulled her into the embrace with them. All three gathered what comfort they could from each other's warmth. Finally, with a big sniff, Sosho pushed away rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "Anyway," she continued as if nothing had happened, "it's very bad down there. The food is bad, the air is bad, everything is bad. I think some of them have lost their minds and they may be the lucky ones. If I ever start to fail just remind me of the quarters. If that doesn't do it, nothing will." "You won't fail," he said patting her hand. "You're strong, we're all strong; we'll get through this." "Now," he said trying to change the subject, "how did you get this all done? This is amazing." "Festou," Nesho chimed in. "The boy can get you almost anything if you ask correctly." She shook her head, "You'd think nobody ever said please or thank you to him before. He's like a puppy starved for affection and willing to please." "Probably nobody has ever talked to him nicely." Dent thought for a moment, "It's good to make allies where we can, even the lowly of the low can be a help, especially if all it costs us is a little kindness. That his shirt you're working on?" Sosho nodded her head. "I'm going to take in that old shirt of yours and give that to him also, if you don't mind, and he's already brought me two little mending jobs. Only a copper each, but it's a start." "Wonderful!" he laughed, "I can see you are going to be very valuable property. Why, you are going to make me rich!" He harrumphed as she elbowed him in the ribs but her eyes were laughing even if her lips were frowning. Festou arrived sometime during the eve watch informing Dent that the Captain would see him in his cabin at six-one (2030 hour) and to show him to the mess decks for the evening meal. He came carrying bread, meat, cheese, a couple of pieces of fruit and a jug of water for the women. "Sorry I am Mistress," he kept saying to Nesho. "Don't allow no women on the mess decks, ma'am. Wouldn't think a fine lady like yourself would want to be down there anyway. Nasty doings down there sometimes." "Den... ah, Master," Sosho said grabbing his sleeve, "do you think it's safe for you down there? Maybe you should stay with us?" Shaking his head vigorously Festou practically vibrated as he cried, "No mistress, no! Mr. Dent Sir needs to eat with crew. He is crew!" "He's right, you know," sighed Dent, "As much as I would prefer being here with you I must go and be seen on the decks." Turning to the boy he asked, "Will the mistresses be safe here while I'm out?" "Should be Mr. Dent Sir. Most crew scared shitless of you they are. Never seen nobody that killed nine by hisself before. The rest either wouldn't bother them anyway or waiting to see what the Captain says. Now best we get going, Mr. Dent Sir." "Would you do me a favor. Festou?" "Yes sir, Mr. Dent Sir, anything you like sir." "Would you please stop calling me 'Mr. Dent Sir' and just call me Dent?" "Sure, Mr. Dent Sir, anything you like." With that the ship's boy scampered out into the main berthing area. Sighing with exasperation he noticed the women were trying with limited success to keep from laughing aloud. Grinning himself he just shrugged his shoulders and followed the scamp out. The mess decks weren't quite as bad as Festou made them out to be. True it was dark, dirty, and smelly. The smell of unwashed bodies mixed with something that was definitely overripe maybe even rotten, but the food was good. Maybe he had diminished expectations or maybe it was the fact he hadn't eaten since breakfast, which seemed years ago, but the food was reasonably tasty and filling. They were served on trays that at least looked like they had been rinsed. The bread was still warm, the crust soft. The stew contents unknown but one could see there was a considerable amount of vegetable in addition to the meat. Dent sat with Festou at an empty table and they remained alone throughout the meal. He recognized very few of the faces around them. He saw Dell once and nodded to him receiving a nod in return. He also saw Garth, the big fat sailor from the gangplank. Him he ignored although the same couldn't be said for Garth. The big man was constantly looking at Dent and muttering to his bench mates. "You don't have to eat with me if you don't want to, you know," Dent muttered. "I don't think being seen with me would be the best thing for a while. I don't expect I'm well liked right now and that could rub off on you." "Ha!" Festou exclaimed. "Don't need to be well=liked, you don't! They be afraid of you and that be better than being liked. They see me with you then maybe they leave me be for a bit too. Today be the first in a while I ain't been kicked or spit on for a long bit." "Well then maybe us outcasts need to stick together." Sitting back Dent mused a little. "I want to thank you for everything you've done for my women. This has been very hard on them and the kindness you've shown has helped a lot." "I likes the mistresses. They treat me like I was something other than bilge water. I ain't never had no shirt as fine as this." He fingered the sleeve of the overlarge shirt he was wearing. "If you don't mind me saying, Mr. Dent, I ain't never seen nobody treat his slaves like you treat the mistresses. It ain't natural where I come from. I can sees why they wants to do right by you. "I don't get to see much from the ship and the bit they let me off in port but most slaves, women especially, gets treated like they was lower than dogs. That's why when my ma and pa died it was either ship's boy or slave. The Putram don't believe in charity, so I picked ship's boy." His face screwed up like he had tasted something bitter. "Best choice I guess. I been here two seasons and it ain't been nothing but 'Festou do this!' or 'Festou fetch that!' Ain't much difference between slave and ship's boy that I can see 'cepting maybe someday I can be a real part of the crew." "Nesho and Sosho have been a part of my family as long as I've been alive." Dent didn't feel comfortable lying but he didn't see any reason to tell the whole truth. "You could say it's a point of family honor. They are in my care -- my responsibility -- and so I take care of them as best I can. Our customs concerning slaves and servants are a little different where we come from." "I like yur way better," the lad said. "Just don't seem right the way some people gets treated." "I agree. Well I'm done. Shall we go see what our ladies are up to?" Festou showed him where to rinse his tray and where to put it so the galley crew could later finish the cleaning. On their way back the boy showed Dent parts of the ship he thought he might be interested in: the armory, laundry, the head and officers' quarters including the Captain's cabin. As they came into the forward berthing compartment Dent was surprised to find Sosho and Nesho both sitting in the middle of the space surrounded by a group of about ten sailors. At first his heart started racing wondering if this was the beginning of the expected trouble but then he noticed the absence of worry in the women's faces and the reasonably respectful deference the sailors were paying to them. One in the group noticed him standing behind them and muttered something. Hastily the space between the women and the men increased and more than one look of consternation if not down right fear thrown his way. Nesho was peering intently at the hand of one of the sailors when she sensed something was different and looked up. Seeing Dent she smiled brightly. "Master Dent!" she exclaimed. "These gentlemen were asking us about a bit of mending they might want done and this poor fellow seems to be having some pain in his hand. You don't mind if we look to them, do you?" "Of course not," he smiled, the relief washing through his body. With his smile the tension seemed to abate considerably in the entire room. "We should help our new shipmates whenever we can." "Evening, Warrior," said one older and grizzled sailor. "Word was yur doxies here could do some mending and might know how to ease the ache in one's old bones." "Certainty they can," moving to stand just behind the women Dent reached down and affectionately squeezed Sosho's shoulder. "You will find that my Sosho here can not only do mending but is a fine seamstress in her own right. In fact there is very little she can't do when it comes to cloth." Sosho blushed, bit her lip and stared at the deck. Reaching over he brushed his aunt's luxurious hair with his hand. "And Nesho here knows more about herbal medicines than most so-called doctors. We'll be glad to look at whatever you have that might ail you and while we can't guarantee a cure most of the time she can find something to help." "One thing, gentlemen," his face suddenly becoming serious, "I know that your customs differ from ours and we must make allowances, but I take exception to my ladies being called doxies. Call it a personal peeve if you will; it bothers me and I would appreciate it not being used at least in my presence." "Seems a simple enough thing to be asking for, I guess," said the old sailor again. "Seeing how we be sharing the same berth, I guess we just wants to get along here." "I appreciate your help." The smile returned as he continued, "May I borrow my ladies back for a while? They will be available for your assistance again in a little while." "Give me some time to find some drippings and ashes," Nesho said looking up at the old sailor, "with the herbs I have I think we can come up with an ointment that will help your fingers. Until then Seaman Korth." Standing up she caught Sosho around the waist and led her back into their own section of the compartment. Before Dent could follow them, Korth tapped him on the shoulder indicating he had another question. "Yur, um, ladies said ye don't lend or hire them out for comfort duties." "That's right I don't, and won't." Dent felt the heat begin to rise up to his neck. Carefully he calmed himself waiting for the other man to continue. "Generally I don't like to interfere with a man's business but," Korth scratched his ear seemingly a little embarrassed, "seeing how ye could stand to make a goodly sum from those two I have to say I like the way ye stick to it. Never did like seeing women treated like that, even the whores if ya know what I mean. Well ye go about yur business lad, just so ye know we aim to look after those two a best we can. Taking a real liking to them we have." "My thanks, Mr. Korth. Your watchful eyes will be most appreciated. If there is something I or mine can do for you, please let me know." "It's just Korth, no Mister. And indeed I will lad, indeed I will. Now be off with ye." Dent followed his ladies and Festou into their room where he filled them in on everything he had found out or done during the day. When Festou left claiming he had other duties Dent also discussed what he had been thinking about owning his own slaves. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do," he admitted. "Let me think about it," Nesho mused. "It can't be all that much different than dealing with indentured servants, although it does seem that slaves here have even fewer rights here than the indentured do in Salas." "Well, I certainly know what you can't do," Sosho said primly. "Oh, and what is that?" Dent replied. "Well, you certainly can't use us like they use the other girls." "Well, ah, hmm," Dent blushed hoping the light was dim enough neither of the others could see it. Feeling a bit defensive, especially considering what he kept thinking and dreaming about, he decided to pick at his young cousin a little. "Just what do you mean by use?" "Ah, ah," now it was Sosho's turn to blush. "You know very well what I mean!" "Hmm, I don't know, but I have heard that the youngest ones need to be spanked every day or they get uppity. What do you think, Nesho? Maybe I should start by using my hand on Sosho's backside every day? Do you think that might help out?" "Well I don't know about every day," Nesho laughed. "But certainly they would expect you to take a firm hand in our discipline from time to time. Maybe a few swats on her bottom would help improve her attitude toward her master, but then again maybe not. Gods know she didn't get enough when she was young; spoiled her rotten we did." Sosho turned bright red and began to fume until Dent hushed her with his hand and assured her he had no intention of spanking her, yet. Only slightly mollified she squinted her eyes and waved a needle toward him in a promise of what would happen if he were take such liberties. He knocked on the bulkhead next to the cabin door as Festou told him was the custom. "Enter." The cabin was small, smaller than Dent would have expected for the ship's captain. A small desk attached to the wall was to one side and a bunk against the other. The bunk was actually smaller than his larger rack but much fancier than his rag-stuffed mattress on canvas stretched over a wood frame. It may have been narrower but it was definitely longer, not unexpectedly considering the height of the man it needed to hold. The room itself was reasonably neat and acceptably clean, so long as your standards weren't particularly high. There was one chair that could be used at the desk or, as it was the case now, pulled back and facing the open room and the door. It was in that chair that Captain Torken Vel sat. The short tutoring session with Festou didn't tell Dent the acceptable protocol once he entered the cabin so he defaulted to his years in training. Entering the room he paced to its center facing the chair and assumed a modified attention. Feet slightly spread, hands clasp behind the back, eyes forward. "Warrior Dent attending as ordered sir," the words rolled from his tongue with surprising ease, especially considering the closest he had ever come before was Warrior-in-training. "Stand easy, lad." The voice was somewhat softer but still just as gravely as the one he had heard earlier that day. Moments passed in silence as the sitting giant studied the younger man standing in front of him. Finally he continued, "So what do you have to say for yourself?" "Sir," came the neutral reply, "I stand ready for your command." "Yes," the giant grumbled, "but just what should be my command? Something tells me you are either going to be a very great value, or a great deal of trouble, maybe both. The question is does your value exceed the trouble? You tell me, what can you do for me? Why shouldn't I just throw you over the side?" Ahh, thought Dent, threats this early, especially in the form of a question, usually meant the person asking was trying to provoke a response rather then frighten. In that case the best thing to do is play to his question, the implied as well as actual, play straight and see what happens. "The Captain asks what he should command," Dent began slowly. "The simple answer would be that the command would depend on the role he wished me to play. If he wanted me simply for combat then he should order me to prepare for combat. If guard duties are expected, then a duty roster and responsibilities list would be in order. Any other duties concerning the ship would probably require additional training, I'm afraid I don't know much about them. However I do have a suggestion for the Captain if I may... ?" Dent stopped, waiting for the sign to proceed which he received in the form of a hand wave. "The Captain mentioned duties of arms instructor earlier today. I have seen your men in action, at least those few coming against me. They had heart and sprit and a certain amount of arms training. If you only went against like-trained sailors in the same proportions as you did against the Pinya today, then you could expect casualties, say between four to five each try. If they were better trained and organized those numbers could be greatly reduced. As it is now, if you meet up with even three trained warriors working together you could conceivably lose not only the battle but your ship as well." "So now you lecture me on how to fight my ship?" Vel said quietly. "No sir, not how to fight ship against ship. I must admit my ignorance when it comes to that, but I do know small squad tactics and how men fight men. It is my opinion that with even a small amount of training your boarding parities could become much more effective and their survivability greatly increased." "Why should I care if any survive?" he asked somewhat more meaningfully. "If some die, that leaves more for the rest, and besides I can pick up hundreds more next time we hit port." "True, Captain." Dent was on slippery ground here and he knew it. "If your sailors are that expendable, then maybe that would be the best avenue. However expending your resources can be dangerous. How many objectives -- prize ships in this case -- can be taken without weakening yourself to where you become vulnerable as well? What is the state of readiness on the target ships? What are their defenses? What strength? The Captain of the Pinya was hoping to meet with a Malshallian patrol vessel. Is this probable? And if so, how would we fare against one? You would know many if not all these answers but I am fairly certain that losing ten percent of your crew during any one boarding would not be advantageous. "Untrained fighters," he continued when it seemed he wouldn't be interrupted, "have a tendency to interfere with each other, sometimes causing more damage to themselves and their mates than the enemy." "So what do you propose, young general?" Vel mumbled with a smirk. "You sent approximately forty men over as boarders this morning. Indeed, they overwhelmed the defenses such as they were but if they had been repelled you would have been hard pressed to keep anyone off your ship. If I had had a squad of ten to fifteen men I would have immediately tried to board your vessel and bring the fight to you. As it was, you lost almost half your boarding party. "What I propose is you set up four squads of ten each. Train them together as a unit and deploy them as such. Three such units should be able to take a ship such as the Pinya with one left in reserve." "Big talk from one so young. Very well, little general, let's see if you can be of value to me. On the desk there you will find the standard contract we discussed earlier." Dent walked to the desk and picked up the paper that made up a warrior's standard contract. "You can read I presume?" Captain Vel said, when Dent nodded he continued, "You will see that any crew bonus will be reduced by your standard pay and your desires concerning 'personal property' are also there." Dent read the contract. Seeing it described what he understood to be the proper protocols, he signed it with a pen lying on the desk. Captain Vel stood, crossed to the desk and signed as employer next to Dent. Looking down at the warrior he said, "Starting tomorrow at three-two the first two squads will be down on main deck forward to begin training. At four-two the next two will arrive." "Very well, Captain. Then by your leave I will retire and prepare for tomorrow." Dent started to leave when Vel called after him. "Those women of yours are going to be trouble, I can smell it. I don't care how many breeches they mend or aches they comfort, mark my word there will be trouble." Dent stopped and turned slightly. "There won't be trouble from them or me so long as my property is respected." "Normally I don't allow fighting over loot on this ship, but in their case I may make an exception." Sighing, Dent turned fully around. "Respectfully, sir, that would be foolish. A further reduction in available manpower would be all that you would realize." "I don't allow duels to the death on board. It's a hanging offense, as is drawing steel on a crewmate, by the way." Vel glared at Dent with an evil glint. "Shipboard discipline is, of course, your prerogative Captain, but that contract you just signed allows me recourse under the Warrior's Code. I'm sure you are already aware that the Code allows for all challenges to be to the death. I don't intend to fight someone twice or three times because you want to stack the rules against me. If you want me dead, than just do it. Otherwise I protect what is mine within the law." "It's not smart to let everyone know how much your little doxies mean to you. Shows a weakness that could be exploited." "You're probably right, Captain, but I think it best for everyone concerned to understand that I will protect what is mine. I hope never to have it tested, but if it is I will make sure it is tested only once. As for drawing steel, the circumstances will dictate that. I don't intend to lose, ever. I will try to abide by your wishes that the contests remain non-lethal, but if someone hurries me I can't be held accountable." "I expect we'll be talking about this at another time, Warrior," the Captain drawled. "As the Captain wishes. By your leave?" ------- Chapter 6 The lamp had been turned down in the main berthing compartment; the darkness combined with the roll of the ship made for uncertain footing as he made his way to their little cabin. Their lamp was still lit with just enough shutter open to allow him to see that both bunks were occupied. That was puzzling since he expected Nesho and Sosho to take the bottom bunk for themselves while he slept alone in the upper. That was now impossible. Although the two looked like sisters, given the more generous curves of the figure in the lower bunk Dent guessed it was Nesho. He wasn't sure whether to be glad or not. Remembering how her body felt next to him the other night was very pleasant and very disturbing. It was like reaching into a beehive for honey, there was pleasure to be had, but at a cost. Stripping down to his small clothes, he moved closer to the bunk wondering how to get in without waking her up. It was evident he needn't have worried since as soon as he neared the bunk Nesho lifted the blanket, motioning for him to crawl in with her. "How did your talk with the Captain go?" she whispered. "As well as could be expected, I think," he replied. "Why is Sosho up there? I thought the two of you would sleep together." "We're supposed to be your women, right? If we're your women then certainly one of us would sleep with you each night. There might be too many questions if it was found you sleep alone and I'll bet by morning it will already be know whom you slept with this night. Besides," Dent could hear the mischief in her voice as his mind's eye saw her grin, "don't tell me you're afraid to sleep with a girl." "The problem isn't sleeping with a girl, it's sleeping with a beautiful woman," he muttered. "What did you say, honey?" Her breath flowed across his ear as he whispered back, "Nothing!" Maybe I can just ignore her and go to sleep, he thought. Turning his back he felt her snuggle up to him, one arm draped around his waist, soft breasts pressing into his back. He was instantly and painfully erect. Moving slightly he tried to adjust his clothes to minimize the constriction but ended up just releasing his cock through the flap in the front. Gods, he thought, don't let her find out! He was terrified her hand would drift down and feel his raging hardon. He knew she would be disgusted and probably never talk to him again. Lying as still as he could, heart pounding, he tried to push thoughts of her out of his mind until finally sometime later that night he finally fell asleep. His nose being tickled woke him up. Cracking his eyes open, at first he couldn't remember where he was or what was going on. First it came to him that his face was buried in a pile of wonderful silky hair. Second, that this hair belonged to his aunt. Third, he was pressed up against her back, his arm around her, hand inside the parted front of her nightshirt cupping one very soft and pliant breast. For the second time in as many nights he was fully erect and pressed into his aunt's ass. Until now he had never known the real pain that intense unfulfilled desire could cause. His cock was not only fully erect but so hard it ached. Jutting through the flap in his small clothes it pressed into the crack of Nesho's ass taking the material of her night shirt with it. His body ached to thrust forward and plunge into what he knew was forbidden; he was able to control the urge but the pain remained. In his effort to stifle the burning desire he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and, involuntarily, clamped down on her breast with his hand. As soon as he did, he felt more than heard a low moan coming from the woman pressed against him. Instantly, terror flooded his body effectively beating back the desire that had been consuming him. Terror that she might be awake and sense what his hand was doing; terror that she could feel what his reaction to her was and ultimately the terror that she would somehow know what he really wanted to do with her. Unfortunately, the terror may have suppressed the desire in his mind but it did nothing to lessen the lust in other parts of his body. His cock was still rock-hard, aching and doing it's best to find paradise. Slowly, both from his desire not to wake her and a real reluctance on his part to end this feeling, he released her breast and started to withdraw his hand. He could feel the soft suppleness slip beneath his hand and the pebble-like nipple as it brushed against his fingers. Try as he might he couldn't help but lightly pinch the little nub between his finger and thumb eliciting another low moan. Suddenly her hand covered his, pressing him tightly to her breast. "Dent?" she whispered. "I'm sorry," he whispered back raggedly, tears filling his eyes. "I am so sorry!" Twisting out of her grasp he rolled over to find himself facing the bulkhead. Not only had they switched positions during the night but sides of the bunk as well. He was ashamed and furious with himself, wanting little more than to crawl into the nearest hole and die. "Dent, baby," he felt her roll with him coming to rest pressed against his back like he had been with her. "It's all right, honey, it's all right." She soothed him with words and little sounds, her lips pressed to his ear while her hand smoothed his hair and then ran down his side finally pulling him closer into her again. He tried to move away from her but an arm, stronger than he would have imagined, pulled him in even tighter. "I'm so sorry! I... that I touched you," he hissed still fighting back the tears. "Well I'm not," she said, her lips still pressed against his ear. "What?" he went rigid with shock. "Y-y-your not angry with me?" "Of course not, you silly thing," she chuckled. "It felt good. It's been a long time since a man touched me like I was a woman... a very long time. What? Did you think I was made of stone? That a woman doesn't enjoy a man touching her? The feel of being loved and wanted?" "I guess I never thought of it," he said slightly twisting his head around toward her. "I guess I never thought of you as a woman before, just my aunt." Quickly he continued, "I mean I knew you were beautiful and all that -- one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen -- but I guess I never thought that it was pleasurable for the woman, too. You know I haven't had much, um, experience, with girls and I always just assumed it was something you did out of duty or something like that. I saw what father did to mother, and all these other men what they do... I mean how could it be pleasurable for you?" "Ah, well" she was still stroking his arm and hip and back to his hair, a wonderful feeling but one that did nothing to relieve the ache in his cock and balls. "My poor baby, you've never seen what it can be like between two people who really love each. It can be so much more than just fucking. Does my use of that word shock you? Well, what the men here do to these poor women is rape. What my husband did to me during the last few years before he died was fuck me since I suppose a man can't legally rape his wife, not in Salas, anyway. There is no comparison between a man just spilling his lust into a woman's body and two people making love. I wish you could have seen that. That's what you should know about. "And yes, I know all about lust and needs," hand darting like a snake she quickly reached down and grabbed his engorged cock firmly. "This can be a sign of lust, and love." Slowly she moved her hand up and down the length of his shaft and he found himself unable to stop from thrusting into her hand, groaning. "Tell me," she whispered wickedly, "does it hurt if you can't get relief when it's this way?" "Yessss," he groaned again. "And do you relieve yourself often?" "Ah, well... " he could feel the heat rising to his face and he knew he must be blushing fiercely. "Now tell the truth," she murmured, "don't you think it's a bit silly not to be able to talk about it, especially since I have my hand wrapped around you like this?" "Yessss," he groaned, "I do myself when I can." "Of course you do! It's only natural. Now let's bring you off and stop the hurt." Saying that she began to quicken her pace, her hand sliding up and down the velvety smoothness of his engorged rod. Her touch was exquisite, wonderful pain. The times he had sought relief on his own had never felt like this. Her hand was firm and hot, the pressure in his balls demanding and unrelenting. Suddenly and without warning he began to ejaculate, the ropes of sticky semen spewing out and splashing against the bulkhead. His body froze when he began and remained completely rigid until the last little bit dribbled out of the end. "There, now doesn't that feel much better?" she cooed in his ear. Gasping for breath he could only nod. Releasing his softening shaft she moved her hand down to lightly massage his aching balls with gentle fingers. "It seems we have made a bit of a mess, haven't we," she giggled. "I'll get a rag and clean that up in a little while. Right now I want you to turn over here so I can see you." Taking her hand away from his groin she pulled his shoulder until he rolled over and was facing her, nose to nose. He couldn't even meet her eyes until she lightly nipped the end of his nose with her teeth. Startled, he looked at her and she moved slightly to press her lips against his. It was a very soft and gentle kiss, not particularly sexual but very compassionate. Breaking the kiss she pulled back and looked deeply into his eyes. "Does what I did bother you?" she asked. He nodded, a brief little up and down kind of nod. "Because I'm your aunt?" Again the nod. "Well you're going to have to get over that, Dent," she said taking her hand and resting it on his cheek. "Our lives have been changed. We aren't just aunt and nephew anymore, or even cousins for that matter. This is a terrible new world we live in and we have to learn to live in it. The fact is Sosho and I are now slaves." She grabbed his hair when he tried to shake his head. "Slaves, Dent. Slaves!" Her face softened a little as she continued, "Gods be praised, you were quick enough to claim us as your slaves. That was brilliant, my darling! I haven't been able to tell you that yet but it was. But the only fact it changed was that we belong to a master that loves and protects us rather than one who doesn't. We must live in this new world and in it we are nothing without you: pieces of meat that men can use and dispose of at their will. To survive we must blend in, become what they think we should be, act the way they think we should act. You must become our master in fact and deed and we become your slaves." Taking a deep breath she continued. "In this barbaric society a slave is counted less than a man's dog. Female slaves are servants, mistresses, concubines and whores. We must become all those..." "No!" he hissed, anger overcoming his terror at hearing her words. "You will never be whores! Never!" Soothingly she pressed her fingers against his lips. "I'm glad you feel that way, my darling," she smiled, kissed him lightly again, then pulled away, "but remember, sex is not death. If need be we can live through it. If it comes to selling our bodies to save our lives, you must do it without hesitation." "I'm not that strong," he closed his eyes and shuddered. "Yes, you are. You have been magnificent, absolutely magnificent! You are the reason we live and are together. Sosho and I will be here for you, supporting you in any way we can. Like this morning, if I can help you feel good I will. We will be living close, closer than most husbands and wives and we can't afford to be bashful about these things. You are young, so young for this responsibility, but no child. You are a man and will be treated as one." "It just feels wrong treating you and Sosho this way," looking up he grinned just a little. "I mean it felt great, what you did, but somehow wrong." "If we could have stayed in Salas, I would have stayed your aunt and Sosho your cousin, then I agree it would be wrong, in that culture anyway. But we couldn't and didn't and here we are. Now I'm not your aunt and Sosho isn't your cousin, we're your doxies as they say and that is what we are. "I'm not saying you should take advantage of us, although you certainly could if you wanted. Besides, I don't think Sosho's mind could take that right now. After what she saw in the slave quarters she is, um, delicate just now." Again she grabbed his hair and looked at him fiercely. "But if you have to to save any of our lives then by the gods you will mount us like we're your she bitches and you're our stud! Do you understand?" Eyes wide he nodded. Her face softened and she smiled. "Good. You may have to close your eyes and hold your breath but I know you could gut it out even with an old bag like me." "That wouldn't be the problem," he muttered. "Oh," she grinned, "and just what would be the problem?" "The problem would be that I would like it too much," his face suddenly blazing bright red. "My darling, this may sound terrible but that is probably the sweetest thing a man has ever said to me." She hugged him tightly with their cheeks pressed together. Dent could feel his manhood start to renew its vigor. Laughing, Nesho tickled him under the arm and quipped, "Young men are so insatiable!" "Mr. Dent Sir, Mr. Dent!" They turned just in time to see Festou's head pop around the corner. "Oh, oh, I'm sorry I is, Mr. Dent! I didn't know you was busy! I'll wait till yer done, sir." "It's all right Festou," he said propping himself up on his elbow while Nesho rolled over on her back. "Come in. What are you here for?" Trying to avert his eyes while still sneaking peeks at the lovely woman lying in the bunk, Festou spilled words like an overturned water jug. "Its just that it's morning meal, sir, and you have practice at three-two and the mistresses be needing a bit of something to eat and all..." Laughing, Dent pushed Nesho over on her side and gave her a light slap on the ass. "Yes Festou, yes! You're quite correct. Up you go, wench! Time to get the day started! Get that other lazy bit of baggage up there awake and let's get moving!" Far from being offended Nesho looked over her shoulder and wiggled her butt inviting another soft smack before crawling out and standing upright. While Dent crawled out and started to dress she shook Sosho's shoulder bringing the girl instantly awake. In the time it took Dent to get dressed in what would become his work clothes: leather breeches, padded woolen vest and dirk, the two women were up, covered and the upper berth made and stowed away. Giving his bright-eyed aunt and still sleepy cousin a kiss each on the forehead he left them in Festou's capable hands and headed toward the mess decks. Leaving the rest of the tidying to her daughter, Nesho turned to Festou when Dent left. "Well, Master Festou, do we need to go to the quarters for breakfast or do we get served in our rooms like noble ladies?" Grinning like it would freeze in place, Festou tried to bow like he thought a courtier would and jumped out into the main compartment returning immediately with a small pail and water jug. The pail contained a few hard biscuits, cheese and pieces of fried meat, either boiled beef or salt pork, impossible to tell without tasting. "Why, a feast fit for the Putrama herself!" she exclaimed clapping her hands together. "Will you be eating with us, young sir?" "Can't today, mistress. I gots work back aft I needs to take care of right quick." He actually look forlorn and miserable but his face quickly lighted up. "But I be back with yer midday meal and if Mr. Dent don't need me, I'll eat with ya." "That would be wonderful and remind the cook if he needs any mending or something done that we can help with to let us know." "Aye that I will ma'am and now it be best if I run along." "Fair you well, Festou, we shall see you soon." With that Festou disappeared like he had never been there. Turning around Nesho was met with one of the nastiest looks she had ever seen. If looks could injure, Sosho's gaze would have pierced her many times over. "Breakfast, Sosho?" Nesho asked sweetly, ignoring the look she was getting. Sitting down on the bunk, now a bench, she held the pail steady in the gentle swaying of the ship while reaching in for a biscuit and a piece of cheese. "What were you and Dent doing down here?" Sosho hissed ignoring the offered food. "I recommend you eat, dear. It's all we'll be getting until noon." Looking at Sosho, she calmly took a bite of biscuit and a sip of water. "If you must know, we slept and talked." "I heard every word you two said and I know there was more than talking going on!" "Ah yes, I though you were awake. You usually aren't that quiet and still in the morning. Quite a mover in fact, all over the bed, a bit annoying at times if you must know." Nesho could see Sosho's rage building even as they spoke and decided it was time to stop the acting. "If you must know, I helped our master relieve some tension. He had a painful erection and I helped him get relief. It was only fair I think. After all, it was lying next to me that gave it to him. Quite a compliment, actually." "That's disgusting! He's your nephew!" Suddenly Nesho's calm demeanor evaporated. Her face became stone and her eyes shone like two pieces of black ice. "If you say that one more time, girl, I'll hit you so hard you may lose some teeth." " Sosho gasped, her mouth hanging open. The woman sitting in front of her had become something other than her gentle mother; she knew Nesho's words were no threat but a promise that would be fulfilled quickly and emotionlessly. "What?" she whispered. "Say what again?" "You referred to Master Dent as my nephew. He is not, nor is he your cousin. You and he grew up together so it may seem reasonable to treat him as a brother or cousin but you are not. Do you understand?" "No," she answered, her voice small and weak, almost lost in the small cabin. "You said you heard us talk this morning. Did you hear us or did you just listen hoping to hear pillow talk?" "Mo... ma'am!" the young women stammered, "I listened but I don't understand!" "No you don't and until you do, and I mean really understand what has happened to us then you are a mortal danger to all of us -- yourself included -- maybe yourself more than us. Sit down. There is no reason for us to shout so that everyone on board can hear." Sosho sat on the other end of the bunk watching her mother warily like one would a strange and possibly vicious dog. "Since you heard us talk, you tell me what you don't understand." "That my cou... ah Master Dent owns us?" "Absolutely and totally. By the laws we live under now he owns our bodies like he owns his sword or tunic. He could sell us, kill us, cripple us, breed us with a pig if he so chose to, and it would it be perfectly legal and accepted. Probably he's been too kind to us so far. It makes him stand out as a bit unusual which is bad for all of us. The fact that he is Dent and he loves us doesn't change the fact that he is now, in truth, your -- our -- lord and master." "But all that about, you know, making love to us. That's disgusting!" The girl did look a bit green and pale in the face. Nesho sighed, "Like I told him, in our old life it would be, but now good and bad are measured only by how they help us survive. If making love to our Master is required for us to survive then you will spread your legs like a good little slave and pretend you like it. "Likewise if he decides that we get fucked by another man, we trust him and do it." Suddenly she leaned back looking very tired. "We have no choice, sweet thing. The only chance we have to stay together is to trust Dent and support him. I told him and I'm telling you, he has done magnificently. By all rights he should be dead and we should be living in slave quarters right now. "Does the thought of possibly having to sleep with him disgust you so much that you would rather live down there and take on the rest of the crew? I thought not. Do you have any other questions?" "You make it sound like you wish he would take us. Is that true?" "A fair question. As long as we're being honest, I owe you an honest answer." She sighed and looked at the young woman again. "You are a woman grown now, four seasons at least since your first bleeding. Tell me, do you think about men, boys? What they would feel like next to you, inside you?" Sosho blushed but nodded. "Do you get itchy down there? Touch yourself making it feel good?" An even deeper blush and eyes averted. Nesho reached over and using two fingers gently turned Sosho's face until their eyes again locked. "So do we all, dear. So do I. I crave that touch as much as any woman. Do you think you lose that desire as you grow older? If anything it can become stronger. "It happens that some men can turn that desire to fear and hate, like your father did with me, but the longing is still there. When I sleep next to Dent I feel the warmth of a man full of love and desire for me. That is a powerful feeling to fight against and while we lived in our old world I fought it and won." Pausing, she took a sip of water, a bite of cheese and looked over at Dent's armor hanging on the wall. She continued, "But that old world is dead to us. It is best if we not even think about it until we learn to survive in this one. You ask me what I want, if I would take him for a lover. Yes, if he came to me or it seems best for us I would and I would be glad to. I am sure he is a virgin and unschooled when it comes to love but do you think he would do anything to hurt me, or you for that matter? Of course not. He would be kind and considerate and do whatever he could to please us. Is that bad? Is that so terrible? Does it make me a bad person to want to be touched with love and kindness, to be glad it might happen? "I worry little for the accidental relationship we may hold with him and even less for the person he is or will become. He has always been a good boy and is becoming an even better man. Think of me as you wish, but I have always loved him and now I think I am in love with him. Do you understand the difference? I could never have him before but now maybe I can. Will I take that if I'm able? Yes! If offered, I will take whatever I can get! "Sosho," she said turning back to the girl, "I don't ask you try to become his lover but circumstances may dictate that you must, regardless of our plans or desires. What I ask -- require -- is that you know to the core of your being that he is our master and we must do everything we can for him if he is to survive. If he doesn't survive, darling, we don't survive." Then closing her eyes she said softly, almost to herself, "He is so young, oh gods, so young!" ------- Chapter 7 The morning meal was uneventful. Biscuits, gravy, some roasted meat and a tankard of weak ale to wash it down, enough to fuel the body without tempting gluttony in any way. His hunger satisfied without being overly filled, Dent made his way to the main deck. It was a pleasant morning weatherwise, the clear skies promising the cool morning would soon progress into seasonal warmth. The winds off their beam were steady but not extreme. Half the distance to the horizon the little merchant Pinya could be seen making way with ease. There were a number of arms lockers placed around the main deck ready for immediate use if needed. One contained nothing but practice arms: regular swords and pikes edges dulled and a few wooden practice sticks. Confident he knew the equipment he had to use and there being still almost two full bells before the squads arrived, Dent began his T'chi exercise, gently entering that world between awake and sleep where the body and submind controlled his actions and the foremind watched with calm acceptance. Again as he moved through the various forms he was aware of watchers hovering around the periphery of his vision. He was finishing the last form as two bells struck. A deep cleansing breath, a final stretch and eyes opened to a world coming back into focus. A group of about twenty men lounged around him in a semicircle, some sitting, most just leaning against a rail, bulkhead or mast. Quickly he surveyed the group sighing softly to himself. He knew what needed to be done but wasn't sure if he could do it or even if it was possible. "Boarding party?" he said loudly to the group at large. There was some muttering and even some chuckling but no one answered directly back to him. "Very well. Let's get started." Pointing to an open space on the deck he said, "Please form two lines of ten each right here." Some of those sitting struggled to stand up but nobody moved to form any lines. "I see. So that's how it will be. Fine, let's start with an easy question: How many of you think it is your job to die for this ship?" There were a number of frowns and the muttering increased in volume but still no one answered. "What, no one? Surely some of you must think it's your function to die fighting. Now which ones are you?" "Ain't none of us supposed to die, ya daft bastard!" came a cry out of the crowd. "You're not?" Dent feigned a surprised look on his face. "Well, let's see: Yesterday morning you boarded a ship with approximately forty men and the last I heard fifteen died during or as a result of the action." "Seventeen!" someone else shouted. "It was seventeen and you killed nine of them, you whoreson!" "Ah, so two more died of their wounds," he said thoughtfully, ignoring the personal attack. "Pity. But regardless of fifteen or seventeen, the fact is you lost almost half the men sent over in the boarding. What that means is between you and your mate standing next to you, one of you will die in the next boarding. So certainly some of you must reasonably expect to die during the next boarding. Now who will it be?" He looked expectantly around at the crowd. With the exception of a few shuffling feet, the silence was total. "Still nobody? Maybe I'm asking the wrong question then. Very well, how many of you want to live through your next battle whether it's a boarding or on land?" "We all do of course!" "Ain't nobody want to die, ye fool!" "I don't have a death wish that for sure!" The calls came quickly and loudly. "Good. At least we can assume we're not a group of fools here." Taking a deep breath Dent continued as emotionlessly as possible, "One of my functions here is to improve your chances of living through the next battle." "Why should we listen to some pissant little boy?" "That's right he may be some big warrior but he ain't no older than some of the bastards I've left behind!" "I got me some small clothes older than him!" Laughter followed the last cat call. "Your first mistake," he shouted above the din, "is to make assumptions about the ability of your enemy based on unsubstantiated, unreliable or irrelevant information... such as his age. A demonstration: Who here believes he can best me one on one?" "I figure I can." Pushing a couple of his fellow sailors out of the way a large middle-aged man came forward. He was very large and by no means was all of it fat. "Your name, please?" said Dent. "Well it do please me and me name be Corred. Best ye remember it," he turned to his fellows and favored them with a wide grin. "Oh I shall, Mr. Corred, I shall. Now if you would be so kind, the locker over there has a number of practice weapons. Please pick one for yourself and one for me." The big man lumbered over to the locker and hefted a large cutlass. Then scratching his head he turned back to Dent. "Which one do ye want there, little feller?" "Doesn't matter; just pick one, any one you want me to use." Laughing Corred reached in and brought out one of the practice sticks. Practice sticks were about five feet in length, two inches in diameter and used for light workouts or pike practice. Nobody considered them to be a true weapon of war. Still grinning, Corred threw it at Dent who grabbed it lightly as it passed by. "Good. Now, Mr. Corred, your job is to strike me with your blade in such a way that we could reasonably conclude that you have killed me. You may start anytime you are ready." The big man didn't even wait for Dent to finish the sentence. Immediately he started running at the younger man as fast as possible with the blunted sword over his head in a two handed grip ready to slash the death blow. Calmly Dent waited, the practice stick held loosely in his left hand watching as the big sailor closed with him. When Corred thought he was within striking distance he began his downward stroke trying to split the annoying youngster in half. Unfortunately for him Dent didn't wait and deftly stepped to the side letting the practice stick remain outstretched to tangle with the big man's legs resulting in a truly amazing face-first smash into the deck. While the laws of man may at times be avoided, the laws of nature cannot. His speed and bulk ensured that not only did he hit the deck but that he would continue sliding until finally hitting the rail and coming to a stop. The silence was total. Finally someone spoke up, "That weren't exactly a manly way to fight, now was it?" Suddenly there were grumbles from the crowd on how it hadn't been a fair fight at all. Walking over to the fallen man he tapped his back with the stick and turned back to the group. "What's fair is that I am standing and he is not. The objective was for him to kill me and for me to prevent that from happening. This I have done. I am truly disappointed in you, gentlemen. I would never take you for people who let a little thing like fairness get in the way of winning. 'Fair' is for duels between foolish nobles or arena fights, never in battle. "Now," he continued before more could be made of it, "does anyone else think he can take me? No? Well how about any two of you? Any two of you think you can take me? Come on, gentlemen, remember I'm just a boy. Surely there are two of you who can bring me down?" Silently two sailors looked at each other, nodded and broke ranks. Heading over to the locker they each took a sword, hefted it and started to stalk the young warrior. "Good! Glad to see there is some life in this group after all," Dent continued talking as the two circled and bracketed him on opposite sides. "Now these two have made the assumption that by coming at me from two different directions at the same time they will overwhelm my defenses, thus allowing them to take me down. However I decline..." Moving like a cat Dent stepped toward one of the sailors, dropped down to rest on one hand and shot a foot out to hook around the leg of his opponent. Pulling with his leg the sailor lost his balance and started toppling backwards. Without stopping Dent jumped up, turned and leaped for the second man. Sidestepping the sword cut, he grabbed the hilt as it passed. Using his arm as a lever and the other man's momentum he quickly had the sword out of his opponent's hand and into his own. In a flash the sword came up and gently caressed the sailor's stomach. His first victim was just trying to upright himself when Dent smacked him across the ass with the flat of the blade sending him back down to the deck in a heap. "... to oblige them." Turning back to the crowd Dent dropped the sword to the deck and leaned on the practice stick. "How could I defeat two men to my one? They didn't work as a team. That is your secret to survival. You cannot be a mob of men storming over to another ship; you must be a team working together to achieve defined objectives. Otherwise you're a mob whose members get killed as individuals. Now if there are no further objections would someone wake our sleeping friend and let's form two lines over here." For the next two hours Dent worked like never before. Using drills he had learned years earlier, they worked on footwork, swordsmanship, defense and the beginnings of the two-man battle teams. He figured squad tactics would come later after he fed them the basics and since, regardless of what he told them earlier, all had been in battle and had at least a rudimentarily knowledge of fighting. By the end of the two hours, each and every man, Dent included, was bruised, battered and wringing wet with sweat. The demeanor of the sailors was considerably different than it had been just two hours earlier. While there were still a good number who turned their backs on him when he passed -- after all some of their friends did died just one day ago -- there were more that welcomed him with either a smile or at least a nod of the head. After rinsing himself off with seawater he stood by the rail letting the sun and wind dry and cool him. All in all it was a good start, he thought, as he moved forward to check on the women. For the first time he was thinking about a future other than just bell to bell. It was a beginning, he thought, and maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for their survival. Shaking that thought off as being far too optimistic just yet, he climbed down the ladder to the lower decks. After the bright sunshine of the main deck, their little hole in the wall seemed very dim but not dingy. He could see where even more effort had gone into cleaning another layer of grime off the bulkheads, lockers and deck. The lantern swung from a hook and short chain overhead and even though it meant he had to watch his head, he could see where it helped shed light throughout the tiny cabin. He was somewhat surprised to discover Sosho sitting alone crossed-legged on the bunk/bench, needle in her hand peering intently at the stitching she was working on. Hearing his footsteps, she looked up sharply and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when she saw it was him. "There you are," she said. "I see you survived your morning workout." "Barely," he retorted as he peeled off and hung up his woolen undercoat. Moving nearer to the lamp he tried to inspect a rather painful bruise and pressure cut that he had received from the wild swing of a blunted sword from someone standing behind him. At least he hoped it was a wild swing. He couldn't really get a clear view of it but as painful as it was, it didn't feel like it was very serious. "Where's Nesho?" "She said she was going to look over what they call sick bay, and maybe a few other things. What's the matter?" Sosho asked unfolding her legs and standing up in one graceful motion. "Oh come here, you silly thing!" Grabbing his shoulder -- not the injured one, thank goodness -- she pushed him firmly to the stool that she pulled out into the middle of the cabin. "Sit!" she said, making no doubt it was a command and not a request. Using the light from the lantern she poked, prodded and studied the wound. "It'll be fine," she said at last, but then relented, "but I bet it hurts a lot." "A bit," he admitted twisting his neck around trying to work out a muscle twitch. "Here, let me get that," she said starting to work her fingers over the tense muscles in his neck and upper shoulder. "Oh that feels good! I take back every nasty thing I ever said about you, sweet thing. Oh yessss! Right there! Ahh!" Dent closed his eyes as his younger cousin rubbed and caressed his sore neck and shoulder. He could feel himself getting drowsy and knew he should change and get ready for midday meal but it felt far too wonderful to have her stop. For her part Sosho had seen the nasty bruise and could almost feel for herself how painful it was. Also evident were the bunched and knotted muscles in his neck, shoulders and back. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to reach down and try to massage the pain away. As her hands glided over his skin, fingers digging into the firm pliant flesh and feeling the rippling muscle beneath, she couldn't help but think about the conversation with her mother that morning. The thought of actually doing, well, it, with Dent still made her stomach churn, sort of anyway. The problem was relating these broad shoulders, golden tanned skin and very male body, to her cousin. Yes, yes, yes, it was the same person, the same boy who had pulled her hair and put the frog in her bed when she was twelve, but... But that boy had been a skinny little thing, all arms and legs, always tired from his training at the academy and even though he was almost four seasons older than she, he was young, definitely not this well muscled and lethal warrior sitting in front of her. He had rinsed off from this morning's exercise but it didn't remove the subtle smell of exerting male. His smell affected her, as did the feel of his skin beneath her hands. Something in her belly tightened up, craving... something. She itched, down there, like she never had before. As with most young women the beginning of her monthly cycle brought on many changes, not all strictly within her body. With it came the dreams of womanhood, being a wife, a mother. The giggling gossip sessions with other girls her age on what kind of man they would have, and what kind they definitely wouldn't have. Who was cute, who was yuck. She had always been surprised when her girlfriends had swooned over Dent. How could he be anything but a yuck? He wasn't rich, although gentry born. Yes, he had that golden yellow hair, and those ice-crystal blue eyes. Kind, very well, yes he was kind, most of the time, although he could be an awful tease when he wanted to be. Strong, of course the training at the academy didn't allow for any weaklings to pass. But handsome and desirable? Maybe, in a rugged sort of way. But this was Dent. Dent! All that roamed through her mind as she worked the kinks and soreness from his neck and back. Truly he was much more than her older cousin, he was her brother really. Her protector? Yes, when that nasty baker's boy trapped her in the alley that one time and tried to get her to play wife with him, it didn't take more than a few words from Dent and he never bothered her again. But that's what brothers did, didn't they? It was difficult to admit the changes he had gone through over the past few years, but as she had changed, so had he. Just as her breasts had swollen, almost as big as mama's now, her hips stretched giving her body a definite sway as she walked, so had he changed. And now she was seeing those changes and reacting to them. His head dropped so that his chin almost rested on his chest. With eyes closed it looked like he had fallen asleep sitting up. Taking her hands off him -- reluctantly, she was surprised to find -- she moved around and sat down on the bunk in front of him. "Dent?" grunting he nodded his head and brought it up with eyes still closed. "Can we talk?" "Talk?" he sighed, "Oh my, that felt good. You are hereby hired as my personal masseuse forever!" "Well you're welcome. Be nice and we can talk about wages. My services don't come cheap, you know." She giggled a little but then sobered up quickly. "But that's not what I wanted to talk about. I-I know what you and mo-Nesho were doing this morning." His eyes suddenly snapped open and his head jerked up. There was a look of both pain and fear in his face. Reaching over she grabbed his hands in hers and held them tightly when he tried to pull away. "No! It's all right. At least I think it is." Biting her lip slightly she continued quickly before he could say anything. "She and I had a long talk this morning, about this and other things. It didn't seem right to me this morning -- I'm not sure it still doesn't seem wrong somehow -- but I understand it a little more, I think. I know what we are expected to be. We're supposed to be your women, your concubines, and yes I know what that means. But is that something you want from us?" "I'm sorry, Sosho," he whispered hanging his head down, "I know it's wrong, but I'm so weak! She is so beautiful and when we are lying together... I-I just can't stop myself from feeling, well, you know, that way. I'm terrible and I know I should be able to control myself, but it's like my body has a mind of its own!" "Would it help if I slept with you instead of her?" she said. Looking up he stared at her. "What makes you think you're any less desirable then she is? You're beautiful and warm and... Well anyway, it wouldn't be any different. Maybe I need to sleep alone and we should just take our chances. I don't want -- can't -- make either of you do something so evil!" "You think I'm beautiful? As beautiful as Momma?" "Of course you are! Ye gods! You two are one and the same! I've never seen two more beautiful women in my life!" He shook his head and looked down at the deck. "I'm so weak but just being next to either of you just makes me... Well, you don't want to know what it makes me want to do." "Yes, I do," she said her breath catching a bit in her throat. "Maybe it will help to talk about it. What do you want to do?" "I-I want to sleep with you," he whispered. "I want to hold you tightly against me, I want to feel your skin on mine. I want to take you, like a man takes a woman." Looking up at her eyes pleading, "Please don't hate me, Sosho. I'll try to be better, really I will, but you asked what I want and gods help me, that's it!" "Hate you? I could never do that!" Suddenly she felt like the older and wiser one. He looked so pathetic sitting there with his head hanging down, she was sure if she could see his eyes they would be filled with tears. Moving she stood up and sat down on his lap cradling his head against her bosom. "There, there, my sweet man," she cooed into his hair. "How could I hate someone who just told me he thinks I'm beautiful and desirable? And I'll tell you something else that Nesho may not, and maybe I shouldn't but I will anyway. She enjoyed what you two did. I didn't understand it then but I think I'm beginning to now. She liked it and wants more. She tried to make me understand the awful position we're in and I'm trying. I'm so afraid I'll do something wrong and get us all hurt that I'm scared all the time. "You're doing wonderfully," he said squeezing her tightly around the waist. "No, I'm not," she said, "I'm acting like a spoiled brat expecting you and Momma to take care of it for me and make it all go away." "Well, you are a spoiled brat," he said smiling as he pressed his head against her. "But pretty little girls are supposed to be spoiled. I just wish I could make it go back to the way it was." "Spoiled am I?" she huffed smacking him lightly on the top of his head. "Well if I am it's partly your fault, so reap what you sow. Anyway I have been acting like a brat and it's time I grew up and started helping and if by helping that means you and I need to do, things, than that's what we'll do." Lifting his head up so he could look her in the eyes, he smiled. "You really shouldn't tempt me," he said. "We already know I'm very weak when it comes to beautiful women. In fact if you keep sitting here you may find a little surprise popping up that you may not like so much." "Oh?" she grinned then wiggled her bottom into his groin. "You mean this might bother you a bit?" Through her thin shift she could feel the stirrings of his manhood as it pressed against her ass. It scared her a little but also excited her in a way she had never been before. Her heart began beating a little quicker and she felt the slit between her legs begin to moisten like it did when she pleasured herself. She felt like she should spread her legs apart giving him access to whatever he wanted. Now she was beginning to really understand what her mother felt and why the thought of being with Dent didn't seem like such a terrible thing. In fact she felt disappointed when he placed his hands around her waist and lifted her, forcing her to stand up. Standing up also, hands still around her waist, he raised his eyes up to the heavens and said, "Oh ye gods, please give me strength!" Laughing she grabbed him and hugged tightly then released him slightly so she could look up into his eyes. "I do love you so, my cousin." Giggling, she continued, "I know, I know, I'm not suppose to call you that, and I won't anymore. I promise to try not to, anyway. My master, my Lord!" Looking down at her he smiled. "I want you to know, little cousin, and yes I'll try to be good myself, I love you too and no matter what happens I want you to know I will never force you to do anything you don't want to do, even if it means my life. That I promise." "I believe you, dear master, and love you for that as much as anything else. But who knows? Maybe we will want to do something about it later on. But right now I want you to know that Nesho does want it, she needs your love and I think you two should do whatever feels right, even if it seems wrong." He sighed, "I don't know what's right or wrong anymore. All I know is I want the three of us together." Bending down he kissed her on the forehead. "I need to get up to the mess decks and get something to eat before my next drill this afternoon. Can I get you anything?" "No," she said patting him on the arm, "Nesho and Festou were going to bring something back when they came. I need to finish a few little jobs here. The Bo'sun hinted if he liked my work then maybe there were some other, larger, jobs to be done for the ship." "That's wonderful!" he exclaimed. "The more we can do for them, the more they see us as useful the better off and safer we'll be. Making friends and allies is important: the more we have on our side, or at least not against us, the better." "I will do the best I can, Master Dent." Then she shooed him away with her hands. "But now you must be off to do your job." As he passed through the berthing compartment he noticed that many of the men getting ready for the next watch were members of the boarding crew he had worked with that morning. He waved a greeting and was surprised when a few answered with more than just an acknowledgement or a wave back. "Stop off for a little piece before meal there, warrior?" "Don't want to wear yurself out now, still got more work to do." "Good workout today, warrior, but you watch out. Tomorrow we'll be ready for ye." His ears burned as he waved and laughed back at them. Obviously they thought he had stopped for a quick piece of ass before lunch which was good in that they seemed to have no problem with him using his property. It also help firm up that Nesho and Sosho were indeed his, but it still bothered him to have anyone even think he would do that to them. Not that he hadn't told Sosho the absolute truth: he did think about it, he felt bad about thinking it, but he still thought about it. As terrified as it made him feel he couldn't help but look forward to the night and what it might bring. ------- Chapter 8 Lunch went smoothly. He ate alone with a few boarding party members stopping to talk briefly about the morning's drill. Some complained that it was too basic, some that it was too advanced and others to offer advice on what was really needed. He accepted all advice and criticism with the same bland thoughtfulness. This wasn't any different than running a drill at the academy, which he had helped with for the past two seasons and actually ran for the last one. A venting student was a happy student they used to say; it's when they're quiet that something's wrong and you have to worry. Lunch finished, he wandered up on deck to observe the changing of the watch and the precise rituals they went through. Just like changing the guard, he thought. The more he watched the sailors and this ship, the more he recognized the similarities between them and any land-based fighting force. The medium was different and a few of the methods, maybe, but still very similar. After all there were differences between desert and mountain warfare but they're still basically similar; why not war on the land and sea? It was an area not extensively covered at the academy so he was learning on his own here. He had about an hour before the next drill session so he decided it might be a good idea to run through a modified version of the T'chi. He needed something to limber him up, get the muscles that had been abused this morning moving again. He didn't want to be tight and unable to move if he had to do another demonstration for the afternoon group. Besides, it would give him time to think about future exercises and drill, and maybe not think about the wonderful massage Sosho had given him before lunch, and also not about how wonderful her breasts felt next to his cheek or her soft but firm bottom as she sat on his lap. Ye Gods! Not only did he have how many unknown numbers of people trying to kill him but now he had two beautiful nymphs that were going to drive his poor hormone-saturated body absolutely crazy! At least dealing with the homicidally inclined he didn't have to worry about hurting someone he loved! The afternoon went smoother than he had expected. Word from the morning's session must have spread for there were no takers when he offered a one-on-one or even two-on-one demonstration. The biggest problem was there were far too many in the afternoon that were -- there was no better way to put it -- unsuitable for the position. Some were physically unfit: too fat, too small, or too weak. Others were mentally unfit: unable to work with a partner, unwilling to take or follow orders. Others still just didn't want to work very hard and were just not going to fit in the squad scheme. It was obvious the replacements used to fill in for those lost in the Pinya boarding were the sludge in the bottom of the barrel. He wasn't quite sure what to do about it though. It was somewhat amusing, in a sick sort of way, that part of this problem was self-induced. After all, if he hadn't killed so many there wouldn't be so many replacements. If he got a chance to talk with the Captain maybe he would have a solution. After all it was his crew. By the time six bells sounded he was totally exhausted and ready to lie down and pass out. He was so tired he wasn't even hungry, which -- considering the amount of energy he had expended -- was saying something. Struggling to move, he followed the squads over to the side where they were rinsing themselves off with cool seawater. The rinse was so refreshing that the anticipated itch of it drying on his skin didn't bother him at all. He did wonder if there was such a thing as soap on this ship. The crew didn't seem to worry about its use much; in fact most didn't worry about washing at all. Rinsing out his vest as best he could, he wrung it out and carried it down to the berthing compartment. He noticed the hum and muttering of everyday life didn't come to a complete halt when he walked through, an indication, he hoped, that the crew was becoming used to his presence. Walking around the chain locker bulkhead into the short passage leading to their area, he abruptly ran into a cloth curtain strung across the passageway. Fumbling at the cloth he was finally able to push it aside and enter the space. Both women were sitting on the bunk, Sosho doing needlework as was her practice these days and Nesho sifting through a basket of herbs. Sosho looked, grinned, jumped up and stepped over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a huge hug. Wrapping a free arm around her, he squeezed her affectionately. "Well, someone seems to be glad to see you!" Nesho observed from her seat. She was smiling up at them but there was something else in her face that bothered Dent. Jealousy? For the life of him he couldn't think of why there would be but he knew if it was there -- and not just his imagination -- then it could be bad. "Well aren't you?" he said to her. Dropping his vest, he held out his other arm inviting her to join them. That something seemed to flicker and was just as suddenly gone as she stood up and moved into his embrace. "Of course I'm glad to see you," she said laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes for a moment. Sighing, she lifted her head and looked him over. "How are you? Sosho said you had been banged around pretty well this morning. How was this afternoon?" "Not quite as bad," he replied, pushing them gently away from him. "You better back off. Not only am I still wet but probably stinky as well." Leaning forward, Sosho made a big show of sniffing his neck and chest. "Hmm," she mumbled, "I have to admit I've smelled worse, but I've also smelled a lot better." She ducked and giggled when he took a playful swipe at her. "At least you try to clean up," commented Nesho. "I'm beginning to believe that body odor is just another weapon they use around here." "Maybe it is," Dent laughed, "but I could sure use a little soap if there is any to be found on board." "I'll look in the closet they call Sick Bay," Nesho said, her arm still around him refusing to be pushed away. "Festou and I were down there most of the day. What a mess! It seems there really isn't anyone assigned to it; everyone goes in and helps themselves. Nothing is labeled! Nothing put away! It's a wonder there isn't massive disease on this ship by now. I have made a list of various herbs and simples that should be stocked the next time we enter port. If you would mention it to the Captain the next time you see him... ?" "Sure," he chuckled, "although he's just as likely to throw it back at me as take it. Doesn't seem to be all that concerned with the immediate health of his crew, but that may be an act. You write down what you think they need and I'll tell him its combat stores. Maybe that will help" "Good," she said sighing. "I've already had a number come to me with this complaint or that. Most I would be able to help if there were decent supplies available." She stopped and looked thoughtful for a ;moment. "You know there seems to be a fair number of decent folk in this crew, and that's not something I would have believed even yesterday. Why I only had four offers for some comfort work today, none from those looking for medication. I don't know if that means we're becoming a little more accepted or if I'm just too old for them to want anything to do with me." "Must be the former," he said giving her a squeeze, "because I know it can't be the latter. You're the most beautiful woman on board this ship..." Sosho harrumphed and poked him in the side, "... over eighteen seasons," he corrected quickly noting her sniffed reply possibly meant she was placated. "It scares me to death when either one of you are out of my sight. Don't be fooled. There are some very rough characters around here. They may not be real pirates but I think even the good sailors aren't to be fully trusted. They live in their own little world here and a woman's function is pretty specific as far as they're concerned. I'm surprised we haven't had more trouble, but I glad we haven't." "We haven't," Sosho blurted, "because you 'scare the dribbles outa them.' That's what one of the men in the compartment said today. They think you're some kind of poisonous snake: one wrong move and you'll kill them without thinking. How does it feel, being the mad dog on a chain with everybody hoping the chain is strong enough?" "Hmm," Dent thought for a moment then sighed. "Well if that's what keeps them away then I need to make sure they keep thinking that. Let me know if anyone bothers you. Anyone. I don't know how long before we hit port, and I'm not really sure what will happen when we do, but until we can get you off this ship we all have to be extremely careful." "Some of the sailors were talking as if they expected to be in port in about a week," Sosho said. Dent looked at her oddly. "Well," she said blushing, "they talk while I'm doing their mending and I listen. Anyway from what they say we could be in Harv'el in three days but it will take a week because we're staying with the Pinya." Then she looked at Dent with real fear in her eyes. "Dent?" she said her voice trembling. "They keep asking why we," she pointed to Nesho then herself, "don't have marks. The said all slaves have tattoos and we have to get ours when we reach Jeevel. Am I going to have to get a tattoo? The said they put them on your face! Oh gods! I don't think I could live with that!" She started crying. "I don't know," he drew her in tightly to himself while she buried her face in his neck. "I just don't know; everything is so different here." Slavery in Salas had been a matter more for the justice system than a matter of private property. Criminals, those not violent enough to be put to death immediately, could have their property and life forfeited to the Putramee, that is they became property of the Putram, but pure slavery as an institution didn't exist. There were bondsman and indentured servitude. A poor family might sell a young son or daughter to a wealthy household but the resulting servitude had strict limits on the types of service as well as the time. Many former indentured servants when their time was served became prosperous citizens in their own right and it wasn't unknown for a pretty servant to end up as wife to her former master. The matter of servitude was in many respects a matter of civil contract law rather than ownership. There was never any consideration of permanently disfiguring the servant as a symbol of their status as property. Still talking, hoping to calm the frightened girl with his voice, he continued, "Captain Val mentioned something else, a salidin? It sounded like some kind of necklace. [He actually said collar, but necklace sounded better.] He said that slaves had to have either one of those or a tattoo. I don't know what it is but whatever it is it can't be worse than a tattoo. Don't worry, little bit, we'll work it out. Nesho, have you ever heard of a salidin?" "It sounds familiar," she said with a puzzled look, "it sounds like the old tongue. Something like el salidina protectocores, which means 'the ties that protect'. But what would that have to do with collars and slaves?" She had heard what was said and didn't mince words: a collar was a collar. "I don't know," Dent admitted. "Maybe I can ask the pilot, Seth. He seemed friendly enough. It's probably common enough knowledge around here, maybe even Festou would know. Anyway it is nothing we can do anything about right now." Lifting his arms from around their shoulders he stretched them over his head groaning as he did. "Ye gods! It's been a long time since I've felt this tired. I feel like a piece of meat that someone has been tenderizing all day. If you don't mind I think I'll just lie down for a few minutes before eve meal. I'm so tired I'm not even hungry." Kicking his boots off he lay face down on the bunk not even wondering where the other two were going to sit. "Here, let me rub your shoulders," said Sosho. "Never you mind that," said Nesho pushing the young woman out of her way towards the foot of the bunk. "I'll do that; there must be some mending you need to finish." "I have as much mending as you have potions to mix. Besides," she said snippily, "he said I did a very good job earlier today." "I'm sure you did an adequate job," Nesho said frostily, "but since you are not even an apprentice healer, I think I know what is best." Struggling to get up on his side, Dent muttered, "Please stop! I can't believe the two of you are arguing over who can rub my shoulders!" Turning, he bumped a bruise on his knee that had been bothering him since morning. "Ouch!" he said grimacing. "What's wrong with your leg?" they both said in unison sounding more like scolding wives than aunt or cousin. Looking at each other for a second they both started to giggle and then turned back to their patient. "Let's get his trousers off," said Nesho. Over his feeble attempts to remain clothed, the two women deftly flipped him over, untied his trouser lacing and pulled them over and off his legs. "Ah, that must hurt," Sosho said as she eyed the yellowish bruise that went from the outside of his knee around to his calf. "Yes, I'm sure it does," Nesho agreed oblivious to the fact that the object of their scrutiny was blushing very red and wishing he could crawl under anything that was handy, nothing of which seemed to be available at that particular time. "Hmm, I don't have any analgesic ointment made up yet. Dear," she said to Sosho pointing to a basket with a few dried leaves hanging out, "take those bischut leaves and soak them in the pan for a few minutes. Then with a rag rub them over the bruise. It won't help much, but it's better than nothing. Then if you like you can rub his legs down. I'm sure they're as sore as the rest of him." Dent felt like a horse the vet and horsemaster were discussing. It was apparent that he had little, no, take that back, he had nothing to add to the discussion. He tried to protest as Nesho flipped him back over but his pathetic snarling was soon drowned out by groans of pleasure as her strong fingers started working on his sore neck and shoulders. Soon there was nothing but muffled 'oooohs' and 'aaaahs' emanating from the general direction of his head with his face pressed down into the mattress. He felt like he was floating as those magic fingers soothed and relaxed each tightly-clenched muscle. He didn't know how much time had passed but he felt something soothing pressed to the bruise on his knee. Sometime later another pair of hands joined the first working on his stiff and sore legs. As he started to dreamily drift off to sleep he felt hands start to push him over on his back. Lying there like a lead weight he was trying to think if he should expend the energy to help those wonderful hands turn him over when he suddenly became aware of a big reason why he shouldn't, a very big reason! It wasn't my fault! he thought to himself. I had no control! The fact was that the massage had felt so wonderful, so soothing, that he could now feel that he had one of the hardest erections that he had ever felt! Sure, sure, with two beautiful women rubbing all over your body, the noble reaction was certainly to be expected, but ye gods! Not in front of both of them! Together! Now! Pressing himself down into the mattress as hard as he could, which didn't help bring his problem down in the least little bit, he muttered something about staying where he was. "No you don't," Nesho said. "Turn over now so we can get your front." When he resisted she poked him under the arm causing him to gasp and start to pull his legs and arms in just a little. It was enough. When he moved, two sets of hands grabbed him firmly and rolled him over too quickly for him to react. There was a moment of silence. "Oh," said Sosho. "My," finished Nesho. "Oh, my" gasped Sosho again. "It would appear someone is feeling much better," grinned Nesho. "I-I-I, uh, I'm, oh, ah..." Dent couldn't get his mouth to utter anything coherent. His cock was pushed up and out of his small clothes by about two inches, the fat purple head close to his belly button while the thick turgid shaft tried to lift upright only being restrained by the tightness of his shorts. His face a flaming red, he tried to cover himself with his hands. Knowing that levity wasn't appropriate in this situation Nesho smiled at him and brushed the hair back from his brow where a lock had fallen. "You don't have to be embarrassed, Dent," she said softly. "It is natural, you know. It happens and we really shouldn't make fun of you." "May I see it?" Sosho's hand was stopped halfway toward the large mushroom head, her eyes big and round as saucers. "I-I've never seen one like this before." She looked up at Dent imploringly, "May I see it? Please?" Not trusting his voice yet Dent nodded his head yes. Slowly, as if it was a snake that might strike at any second, Sosho reached out and gently started to pull his small clothes down. She couldn't quite get them to move smoothly and started to tug them with a little more force. "Here, let me help," said Nesho softly. She reached over and grasped the cloth on both side of his hips and pulled them down half way to his knees. Released from its confinement, his turgid member sprang up off his stomach to a forty-five degree angle, standing there and pulsing with the beat of his heart. As if entranced by the serpent in front of her, Sosho reached out to touch his cock, at the last second stopping and glancing at him with her silent question. Again he nodded his head slightly and her attentions returned to his erect phallus. Using one finger she lightly traced the outline of the head, down over the flared glans and down the underside to just above where the scrotum started. He groaned as he felt her light touch. Thinking she was hurting him, Sosho quickly pulled her finger back. "You're not hurting him, darling," Nesho reassured her. "In fact you're giving him pleasure, isn't she, baby?" Dent, eyes closed could only nod. "Here, really feel how magnificent he is," Nesho whispered as she took her daughter's hand and gently wrapped the fingers around the shaft so that she was holding him like a club. Sosho couldn't believe how large it was, the combination of warm velvet skin over an iron hard rod. Nesho's hand, still wrapped around Sosho's, started moving both of theirs slowly up and down his shaft. Sosho was fascinated by this new toy in her hand. She was drawn to it like a moth to a candle. It felt so, so, right! She should be touching it! Feeling it! And, and, something else as well. She was no child for all that she was untouched by man. She knew where this was supposed to go and how it was supposed to work, but the idea of this massive thing stuck into her little hole... It wouldn't fit! Couldn't fit! Impossible! Nobody could take that! But nonetheless she knew that was where it was supposed to go. She could feel the wetness between her legs, first just as moisture more than as actual wetness, then beads of moisture actually soaked into her own undergarments. She bent over until the head was merely inches away from her face. She could see the fine network of blue veins just beneath the skin, the small hole at the very tip that oozed a slimy clear liquid with each stroke of her hand. As she continued her manual ministrations, Dent's groans became deeper and less controlled. She could hear Nesho softly talking to her, guiding her with words as she took her hand away leaving the girl's hand alone on the huge pulsing cock. "Keep stroking baby, firmly but not too hard," her mother whispered. "Feel him beneath your hand, how good he feels, how strong. Stroke him gently baby, watch his face: you'll see when he's about to cum. See his face, almost there, almost..." Suddenly Dent's lips pulled back in a grimace mimicking pain and Sosho felt the balls resting next to her hand begin to contract. Moving quickly like a pouncing cat Nesho pushed Sosho aside, grabbed Dent's cock and sucked the bulbous end into her mouth. Stunned, Sosho could only watch as her mother, hand again wrapped around hers, quickly slid both of their hands up and down his rod pumping whatever it was she could feel rising up inside the shaft into her mouth. Whatever had been coming out must have stopped, Sosho surmised, as Dent's body suddenly relaxed and Nesho slowed their hands until they finally stopped. The head of his cock left her mouth with a loud smack as Nesho lifted her face away from him. Sosho could only stare at her mother as she leaned back; the look on her face was that of a cat who just finished off a huge saucer of cream. Nesho looked up at her and smiled as she swallowed whatever was in her mouth. Then she winked and turned back to the man lying on the bunk gasping for breath. "Did that feel good?" she murmured as she released her hand from around Sosho's and moved it up over his stomach muscles and caressed his chest. He was barely able to nod, his eyes only half open. "Did your women please you, oh master?" Sosho looked for any hint of teasing or sarcasm in that phrase but was surprised to find none, just heartfelt warmth and love. Reaching down Nesho gently pulled up his small clothes until Sosho was forced to release his quickly deflating penis. She hadn't even remembered to let go, she was so stunned by what had happened. Releasing his manhood -- reluctantly, she was again forced to admit -- she helped pull up his shorts. Looking over at her Nesho said, "Do you want to rest with him? He needs the rest and I think it would be best if one of us stayed with him." Sosho's head was spinning. She couldn't decide if she wanted to lie down with him of if the thought scared her speechless. When she didn't respond immediately Nesho looked back at the bunk and said, "Well, maybe all of us could squeeze on there for a little while, anyway. Here, let me lie down and you crawl in behind him." With no wasted motion Nesho lay down next to Dent pulling his arm over her so they lay face to face with his head pillowed on her arm. At Nesho's gesture she crawled in behind pressing up against his back, her arm around him hugging him tightly to her. Dent's body felt like a blast furnace next to Sosho. Heat radiate from him, flashing through her dress and shift burning every inch of skin she had pressed up against him. Far from uncomfortable it was intoxicating and she strove to press as much against him as she could, practically molding her body to his. She could feel Nesho's arm next to hers also pulling him in tightly. By lifting her head slightly she could just barely see the two of them lying nose to nose, his arm flung around her waist. Sosho felt a little stab of jealousy wishing she were the one in his arms feeling his breath gently caress her face. But then again there was relief that it wasn't her. The presence of this extremely male thing lying next to her was overwhelming; she didn't know how to react. Submit, flee or fight? He was her cousin -- brother really -- always had been, but now he was much more than that. Now he was her protector, her shield against a world that had turned dark, dangerous and terrifying. He was her only rock in this shifting landscape for which she was woefully unprepared to deal. But he was also a man, a fact that had just been made abundantly clear. A man in a world that expected, practically demanded, him to use her as a woman. The problem was she wasn't sure if it was the thought of being used for a man's pleasure that terrified her or the realization that deep down she actually wanted to be used that way by him. She was so confused that she could only press her face into the back of his neck, grit her teeth and hold on as tightly as she could. For Nesho the situation was both crystal clear and completely opaque. She didn't even try to hide from herself what she wanted from this man lying next to her: she wanted to be his woman, his concubine, his wife. The inherent wrongness of that feeling still raged within her with the power of twenty-nine seasons of society's training. Not that she was ever told directly that it was wrong for an aunt to love her sister's son as a man, but it was understood. There was wrong and right. This was one of those wrongs. But that didn't stop the feelings and emotions, did it? For the past four seasons he had been the lone male in their household: their man. She had watched him grow from the gangly adolescent boy into a powerful and handsome young man. She had watched him grow physically strong and intellectually adept. He was kind where many in his position used their power to be cruel, considerate of his family and others, and loving. Not perfect by any means. He wasn't particularly gregarious nor overly friendly with strangers. Serious most of the time, probably much more than a young man should be, but then he always had been. Inside the family it seemed his only thought was for their welfare. It pained her often to see him staying home or working extra hours at the academy when his classmates were out drinking and chasing the local tavern wenches. Not so much the last anyway; it had always pained her to think of him with another woman even though she knew it would happen some day. All in all she was proud of how he turned out. Specifically, he was the type of man she wished she had married sixteen years earlier. Dent resembled his father in most ways: the straw-blonde hair, ice-blue eyes and muscular build. Luckily their resemblance was only physical. Where Dent was quiet and self-possessed, his father Jimie had been loud and boastful, as cruel as Dent was kind. Jimie's association with his own family was limited to the dowry their father provided at her sister's wedding and the use of her sister's body to slake his lust whenever he couldn't make it with whatever tavern whore he was pursuing that particular week. Although sex for Nesho had been a rather limited and loveless affair, she didn't despair of finding it or true love. She was still young, or at least felt young. Still attractive, that was evident by Dent's reactions, and in truth she had never been at a loss for offers after her husband died, or even before. That she didn't accept any of these offers may have been a mistake, but it didn't feel like it was, not then, not now. She had very healthy desires that she took care of adequately by herself, privately. But no amount of self-pleasure ever really stopped the desire she felt when she looked at her sister's son. Seeing his well-defined muscles flexing under his taut skin, the flash of his blue eyes or the infrequent smile had been causing a reaction in her for the past several years. Her legs got weak, she got wet down there, it was all she could do to prevent herself from stripping off her clothes and pressing her naked flesh against him. Society's rules, custom, position and decorum were all that prevented her and they were gone now. Their capture had been a tremendous shock to her. When that first pirate broke down their door and forced them up to the main deck in a line with the other women and children, she was sure it was their last day alive. Although there was some sporadic fighting still continuing, it was over by then and she knew it meant Dent had to be dead. The only thing that kept her from running to the side and flinging herself over the rail was the thought of Sosho and how she could help keep her daughter alive. She knew she was dead, she felt dead; her body just hadn't caught up with reality yet. Then like a ghost being called forth from her fevered mind, Dent strode up to them on that deck. For a long while she didn't really hear anything -- didn't understand it anyway -- all she saw was her savior walking through the ranks of the enemy like he belonged there. There was something about him claiming her -- them -- as his property, his slaves. That wasn't right she thought, at least she didn't think so, but what did slave really mean? He was arguing with the very big red-bearded pirate about how they belonged to him and therefore came with him. Her mind fastened on that. If they belonged to him then they could stay with him: simple. If they were to stay with him, they then they must belong to him, again simple. Therefore they belonged to him, period. The concept of being a slave was new to Nesho only in that it was now a fact of civil law and not marriage custom. While she was married her husband owned everything they had, their possessions, her wages from healing and figure casting, their children, and of course her body. After her husband's death she was little better off as she had no protector to ensure she was paid correctly under her various employment contracts; even old business relations felt it was acceptable to cheat a widow. It helped when she moved in with her sister's widower; he offered at least the semblance of protection although their only real interaction was for her and Sosho to cook and clean for him and his son. When he was killed, they were again left with almost nothing. It wasn't until Dent was in his last two years at the academy that his visits to her various employers seemed to jog memories of fees owed and payments missed. That she wasn't technically a slave didn't make life that much easier for a single woman in Salas. In many ways it would be easier now. Her enslaved state meant she was unrestricted by convention and ideas of propriety, those concepts were meaningless to a slave. What was right depended entirely on her master. She had spent her own time talking to sailors and captives on this ship. Jeevelian society cared no more for the heritage or lineage of a slave then it did one of the master's dogs; less if the truth be known. That she was his aunt might raise a few eyebrows, maybe, but that would only add more to the mystique of Dent than revulsion. After all, a man ruthless enough to enslave his own aunt would be someone you wouldn't want to have angry with you. The only difference it could make would be here on the ship, before it became official at the next Jeevelian port. From what she could understand if she and Sosho didn't belong to Dent prior to the capture then they would be become part of the prize and eligible for use by the crew before being sold to some bordello. The fact that she was his aunt and Sosho his cousin could conceivably cloud the issue of belonging, and that they couldn't allow to happen. Her instincts had been correct: They must be his women not aunt/cousin. This was the path of survival. Almost as importantly to her now was that she was really expected to become his woman. In fact it was assumed that she and Sosho already were. The truth being she was, and had been for quite some time, madly in love with her nephew. An interesting twist of fate to be forced to do what one really wanted to do anyway. She knew Dent was reluctant to proceed down this path. He had always been an extremely moral young man and while she knew what his body was telling him, she didn't want to exceed what his mind would allow. She was sure that given time he would be able to express his love for her in the manner she desired and was sure that he also wanted. But there were other complications in an already complicated and dangerous situation. What about Sosho? Nesho loved her daughter. Not, she admitted, like she loved Dent, but that wasn't Sosho's fault. She had wanted the best she could for her. A nice husband, wonderful children, someone she could be a friend with as they grew older. Now? She would give her life for her daughter, she knew that, but what could she really do now to protect her? They were caught in the same trap. Realistically, they were slaves and slaves had very little input to their own future. What they both had was Dent. So what was Sosho? Rival? Child? Partner? Co-wife? The last wasn't technically feasible, not that a man couldn't have two wives but marriage wasn't recognized for slaves. After all can your horse get married? The real question was what were they to be? What did Dent want? Probably she should take that into consideration more often, but if truth be known, in matters such as this Dent would do what she, (they?) wanted. What did she want? She wanted him all to herself is what she really wanted, but she also wanted it without being a slave and that wasn't in the stars, it seemed. She really didn't want to share was the problem; she wanted her man exclusively for herself. The thing was not only did she love her daughter but she liked her. Sosho was a sweet child, full of life and energy. Of course she complained and whined when everything didn't go her way, but only enough to satisfy convention. She worked hard, was quite intelligent, and, Nesho had to admit, was very pretty. The question was what role could she, or would she, play? Could she be her cousin's concubine? Could she bed him? Or could she keep up the pretence and not actually do it? That she was interested in him as a man was obvious. Her hand had to be practically pried away from his cock after he had cum so regardless of how much interest there was, there was indeed some. She and her daughter had some very long and deep talks ahead of them. When Nesho had first broached the subject to Sosho it seemed a possibility they might be forced by circumstances to have sex with Dent but the more she saw and thought about their situation the more it became apparent it would become a necessity. Given that Sosho had pressed herself tightly enough against Dent's back that a piece of paper couldn't be forced between the two of them, it may not be as difficult to convince her of this necessity as it first seemed. But that was for later. Right now laying next to him she felt good, still scared, but better than she had for two days at least. Sighing, she kissed her future lover's nose and shut her eyes for a few minutes rest. "Mr. Dent Sir!" the voice was accompanied by a loud knocking on the bulkhead outside their curtained passageway. "Mr. Dent, are ya there? Mistress Nesho? Sosho?" Dent woke up immediately and fully. Finding himself held firmly in the grasp of two sleeping women he carefully extracted himself until he stood next to the bunk. Nesho murmured his name and rolled over to curl up next to Sosho before falling back asleep. Grabbing his trousers he walked over to the curtain before answering. "Yes, Festou, I'm here," he said. "Wait right there and I'll be right out." Pulling on his trousers and his shirt he pushed aside the curtain and stepped out into the small corridor. "What's up, Festou? I really should thank you; I probably would have sleep right through eve meal." "No mess decks fer ya tonight, Mr. Dent," the words spilled out of the young boy. "Captain Vel requires you to eat with him in the wardroom. Starts at five-six it does, that be in one bell. Best you be getting dressed there, sir!" Lifting a bucket up into the light he continued, "I brung some fer the mistresses if they're ready for their supper." "They're asleep now, but let me check..." Just as Dent was about to duck back into their tiny cabin the curtain was pushed aside and a smiling Nesho beckoned the boy inside. As Dent followed, she pushed him over toward the locker waving her hands, "Take off those dirty things!" she said. "Sosho! Pull out Master Dent's clean linen. He is to eat with the Captain tonight and he must be presentable!" She reached out and spun him around until his back was to her then began to strip off the shirt he had just put on. Sosho was standing in front of him pulling a clean shirt out of the locker. She snapped it open and once his arms were free began stuffing his arm into the clean shirt. Dent felt like a little girl's doll being dressed up for a play party and Sosho knew it. Her eyes sparkled delightfully as she fussed over his cuffs and front lacing. But the shirt wasn't the only thing to go. From around his back Nesho's hands went straight for his trouser ties, deftly unfastening and then pulling them down to his ankles where he really had no choice but to step out or fall on his face. Sans pants, he looked up to where Sosho was holding out a clean pair of small clothes and before he knew it hands from behind were pulling the dirty pair down and off. He blushed furiously, why he wasn't sure. He wasn't showing anything Nesho and Sosho hadn't seen just hours before and Festou, as part of shipboard life, had no body modesty whatsoever. Regardless, he took the small clothes from her and quickly put them on. By the time he had finished she was kneeling, holding open a clean pair of trousers, which he stepped into. Standing, she pulled them up with her and proceeded to tuck the shirt in, slapping away his hands when he tried to take over. Grinning up at him impishly she tucked the front of the shirt in last and reaching down into his pants grabbed his cock and gave it a good squeeze before taking her hand out and stepping back. Now the blood was flowing to two different places as he nonchalantly tried to adjust his growing manhood to a more inconspicuous position. He could feel the hot flush of blood racing to his face, a feeling he was not normally familiar with but seemed to be having a lot lately. Looking at the unabashed and quite unrepentant grin on his pretty cousin's face he scowled at her trying to let her know he didn't appreciate her liberties. His attempt was wholly unsuccessful. Not only was she not cowed even the slightest but his fierce look garnered him an even wider grin and even a tiny chuckle. Realizing there was no possible way to win in this confrontation he dropped the scowl, sighed heavily and looked over to Nesho with a pathetic help-me! look. She returned his look with a smile and a raised eyebrow in essence saying, "What do you want me to do?" Seeing no help from that quarter he sighed again and turned back, busying himself with tying the fasteners of his trousers and buckling his belt. "Let's have a look at you," Nesho said after he had finished. "Better. Almost presentable. You still need a real bath, a haircut, and maybe a shave, but that's the best we can do for now, I suppose. Here, take this." She handed him his dirk which he automatically slipped into its accustomed place in his belt. "Now you best be off; no being late for the Captain. Festou, will you be staying to eat with us?" "Nay, Mistress Nesho," the imp replied, "I been told to see him to the wardroom, but I be back later to pick up the bucket when yer done with it." "Good!" she said. "When you do, I have some small tisane for the cook's hurting head. It's not much and I don't know how old the willow bark is, but it won't hurt and could help a bit." "He'd be very appreciative of that, mistress. Cook's been having him some awful head hurts lately. Says they happen this time every season. Puts him in a foul temper, it does. Don't want to be within reach of his ladle when he's having one of his hurts, you doesn't." "Well this should help a little. Now you two should be off before you're late." "Yes, ma'am," was the reply as the ship's boy scooted out of their little cabin. Dent smiled and waved as he followed the boy past the curtain. When they had left, Nesho picked up the bucket and emptied the contents onto a piece of cloth she spread on the bunk. There was bread, cheese and some dried meat; no feast but relatively fresh and without too much mold, edible anyway. She sat on the bunk and idly broke off a piece of bread and took a bite. Sosho sat down also and picked up a bit if cheese and a little bread. She lifted it to her mouth but set it back down in her lap before taking a bite. "Mother?" she asked softly, not lifting her head but her eyes looked sideways watching Nesho staring into nothing. "Hmm, yes baby?" Nesho replied, not even correcting her for calling her mother. "What you did to Dent, there at the end, when he, ah, he..." she couldn't quiet find the words. "When he came?" Nesho finished. "When he came in my mouth?" "Yes!" Sosho whispered. "What about it, darling?" "Is that, ah, normal?" the words suddenly seemed to spill out of her. "Why did you do that? What was it like? What did it taste like? Is that something all women do? It seems, oh, disgusting!" Nesho sighed and put down her bread. She didn't turn towards her daughter but her eyes did glance over toward her. "It's something your father always wanted me to do for him," she said after hesitating a moment. "I don't know if all women do it and I've only done it to your father and now Dent. I have heard that many women do it and that some men even go to whores and pay to have it done. I never liked doing it to your father but sometimes when I did he would leave me alone afterward. That usually made it worthwhile. Why did I do that for Dent?" She shook her head slightly. "I don't know. When I saw that he was about to cum... well I just had to taste it. I don't know why, I just did." "What did it taste like? He didn't pee in your mouth, did he?" "No he didn't, silly thing," Nesho smiled and looked over at her. "We've talked about this before; you know about men and women. Now what is it that men spray during sex?" "Their seed?" the question was more like a statement. "But isn't that supposed to go inside the woman? I mean inside, down there? To make a baby?" "Yes," Nesho nodded slowly. "When a man and woman have intercourse and he sprays, it's also called cuming, in the woman's vagina. Then they can make a baby. But sex and making love is much more than just making a baby, Sosho." She stopped for a moment thinking about what she wanted to say. "A man can mount a woman a hundred times and still not produce a baby..." "Mother!" Sosho hissed. "A little too blunt, my dear?" Nesho chuckled. "Well get use to it. We're just women now trying to survive. To do that, we need to be honest between ourselves at the very least. Anyway, a man and women can make love many times and not produce a baby. Often it is to satisfy the desire -- the lust if you will -- that nature has given us. Mostly it's done for pleasure and not with the idea of making a baby. Why did you touch Dent?" "Ah, well," Sosho blushed and stared down at her lap. "I don't know. When I saw his, you know..." "Cock, Sosho. It's called a cock, or penis to the more genteel. Or spear, or rod, or little man, or any of a hundred other things we call it, but mostly it's called a cock. So when you saw it, why did you reach out to touch it?" "I don't know," Sosho drew up, forcing herself to meet Nesho's eyes, trying not to blush. "It... it just seemed to draw me. I just had to touch it. I've never seen one before." "It's nothing to be ashamed of, baby. It's all part of the lust nature gave you. You saw a wonderful young man excited and ready for sex and you were excited also. It's natural. Did you enjoy it?" "Yes! It felt, well, wonderful! I've never felt anything like it, so soft yet so hard and firm and, and..." "You wanted to know what it feels like inside you, didn't you?" Sosho just nodded, blushing even though she didn't want to. "Of course you did," Nesho smiled. "Our man is a very fine specimen, isn't he? Kind of makes you wet and wobbly-kneed, doesn't he?" "But he's my cousin!" she hissed. "And my nephew!" Nesho hissed back at her playfully. "But that doesn't matter any longer. The only satisfaction I have in this whole horrible situation is that I may be able to be with a man I love and who I know loves me, and I intend to take advantage of that when he's ready!" Sosho just looked at her in shock. "Love?" she said with disbelief. "You mean love like in you love me, or you love a new dress?" "No, I mean love like in husband and wife, a woman for a man. "Yes, I know that makes me a terrible person," she continued. "So what? I'm not a person anymore, I'm a slave and by the gods I'm going to take what little pleasure I can! I intend to become his woman in fact. Enough of this pretending! When he's ready I will be there! "You can do as you please. I can't see Dent forcing you to do something you didn't want to do, ever. In fact I'm a little jealous of the way he looks at you sometimes. I don't really think I want to share, but I will if that's what you decide, or what he decides if it comes to that. I can please him and I will because it will please me too." "It's just so strange," Sosho whispered. "I don't know if I can do it." "Yes, it is very strange," Nesho replied, leaning over and patting her hand. "But I don't think you have to do anything yet. I know Dent is very confused now and I'm not pushing him." Then she grinned a little wickedly, "Well, maybe I am pushing a wee bit. But let's just wait and see what happens." Sosho could only nod and go back to eating. ------- Chapter 9 The wardroom, or officers mess, Festou informed him as they traveled back aft, was smaller than Dent had envisioned. Through an open hatch off the passageway leading to the officers' cabins it was just large enough to hold a table and eight chairs. On one side an open window allowed food to be served from a tiny galley. There was one cook and one messman who stood ready to serve. The Captain and the other officers were already seated when he stepped into the room and came to attention as Festou announced his presence. "This isn't a ship of the line, Warrior," the Captain said as he waved him toward an empty seat near the end of the table. Most of the men he knew already. In addition to the Captain there was Pilot Seth, the Bo'sun and a portly fellow who turned out to be the second mate. There was an empty chair to the right of the captain and Dent assumed it was reserved for the first mate now commanding the Pinya. As soon as Dent sat down the messman began serving: meat, vegetables and some sort of gravy on fine ceramic plates. When all had been served and the captain took the first bite everyone else also began. "I've been told," Vel said between mouthfuls of food, "that a ship's Armsman is one of the ship's officers. Now like I said we're no ship of the line and don't follow the same bilgewash the navy boys do but I thought it be best if the rest of the officers got a chance to meet with you and settle their minds seeing how you're training our crew to be real fighters." There were a couple of chuckles and grumbling at that last. "Our boys is real fighters already!" grumbled the Bo'sun. "Don't need no just-birthed babe to show 'em what to do. Just point 'um and they fight." "What do you say to that, Warrior?" Vel laughed. "Some here think it's a waste of time and money for me to contract you. They think maybe we should dump you over the side and sell off those pretties of yours." "Leastways we get some coin to show," muttered Brauch, the second mate. When he saw they were looking at him expectedly waiting for some response Dent set his knife down, wiped his mouth with the dinner cloth provided and looked back at them. "The Bo'sun is correct," he said looking directly at the man in question. "The men are fighters." The bo'sun grinned a little and the captain had a surprised look on his face. "But," he continued, "they aren't good fighters." The grin was wiped off the bo'sun's face. He started to sputter and say something. Continuing Dent said, "They know how to fight individually, with varying expertise, but they are undisciplined and unable to fight as a coordinated unit." Before anyone could protest, Captain Vel waved them to silence and indicated Dent should continue. "You lost almost half your boarding party taking the Pinya." Dent forced the emotion from his voice and continued like he was an instructor at the academy, the uneasy silence coming more from the realization that the major reason for those loses was sitting at the table with them and not Vel's admonishment. "While the loss of half your trained fighters may be acceptable -- although I truly don't see how -- it reduces your defenses and restricts operations for the immediate future. "The question being would you be able to take another ship that size or larger if you met it now or would you have to pass it by? As I understand it, you are paid from the prize money. Therefore any lost opportunity would also mean lost profit. I am also making the assumption that you are doing this for profit and not just for fun." "Aye, you're correct there," laughed Vel. "We're doing this for profit, a great deal of profit. Two or three prizes like that ship you're from and most of the crew could retire comfortably." "I thought as much. While the loss of any one fighter is regrettable, it is expected in battle. But the loss of half your effectives at one time can only be seen as a disaster." "But," someone finally spoke up with what had been on everybody's mind, "the reason we lost so many was because ye killed most of them yurself! Ships don't usually carry trained warriors on them!" "They don't? How foolish of them. I know I would if I owned those ships. If there had been another three or four warriors on the Pinya her first mate would be sitting in the Captain's chair right now." That seemed to cause them to pause. "But the truth is," Dent continued, "with proper training and fighting correctly as a unit, I could have been taken with only minimal losses. Any three average fighters should be able to at least contain any warrior, no matter how good he is, until numbers could be brought to bear, overwhelming him. As it was your men fought bravely, but as individuals. I met them individually and singly they were not my equals." "That may well be, Warrior." It was Pilot Seth who spoke for the first time. "But if ye had not been there our losses would have been about average." "If that is true, and I'm sure you are correct, then I still consider those losses to be excessive. Losing a quarter instead of a half is not as great a disaster, but it's still a disaster." "But that's the way you fight ship to ship!" one exclaimed. "Ye just don't know how to fight at sea, you lubber." "I disagree," Dent said calmly. "Battle is battle, the medium may require a change of tactics but, land or sea, the goals are still the same." "So how would ye reduce casualties?" It was the pilot again. Dent had the suspicion that Captain Vel set Seth up as his foil since he watched the interaction very closely. "Tactics and strategy," replied Dent. "The tactics I understand," Seth replied. "I watched ye today, both sessions. I can see what you're working toward. Tremendous if it works, but the fact remains that when we board a ship the crew is going to fight like hell-hounds. It's impossible not to lose men when yur enemy doesn't seem to care if they live or die." "True," admitted Dent. "This is where strategy comes in. What is your purpose in taking these ships?" "Prize money, of course." "If you were just pirates that might be true," corrected Dent, "but that's only your method of payment. Isn't your purpose, the reason for your hire, to disrupt your employer's enemy's shipping? To deny him the economic benefits of that trade? To force his enemy into a position that he is not physically strong enough to do with his own forces. Putram Jeevel probably couldn't care less what actually happens to that shipping so long as Putram Malshall doesn't get its benefit." "Well, he does get a percentage of the prize money and taxes on all slaves sold. The money from the slaves is nothing, but the prize bounty is a gold or two." "But I'm sure not enough to offset the cost he must incur in protecting your base of operation. For if he didn't do that, I'm sure His Eminence Malshall would quickly stop your little forays by burning your port to the ground!" "So what is your point here, Warrior?" That question came from the Captain himself. "The point is your method of operation, taking a ship, killing most of the crew and enslaving the passengers, guarantees that they will fight you to the death. After all, what are their options? When they fight to the death it often includes your death or the death of your men. If they knew they weren't going to die if captured, then they wouldn't fight so hard, maybe not at all. If they didn't fight back as hard then your losses would decline drastically, possibly even to nothing." "So what are we to do? Ask them politely to hand over their ship? Stop taking prisoners? Keep the captives?" "Well, yes, something like that." The table erupted in bellowing denunciations. "Silence!" Captain Vel yelled, pounding the table with his fist. "Enough of this! What I want to hear is how the training is progressing and just what are you doing." For the remainder of the evening he was questioned about his training methods and the progress of various individuals in the boarding squads. But Dent noticed that during the angry denouncement of his response, the pilot and the captain had been quiet, thoughtfully looking at him with calculating eyes rather than dismissive ones. It was after the change of the sixth watch when he finally walked back toward the bow. It was a dark night with just a sliver of moon visible, a single convoy lantern hanging high in the rigging. If he squinted he could just make out the same light shown by the Pinya as she matched their course. He walked slowly thinking about the day and what it had brought. Not too bad given the hellish situation they found themselves in. They. That was something else again. What was going on with Sosho and Nesho? What they had done today! He tried putting it out of his mind, thinking it had really been a dream and that maybe it never happened, but the feel of Sosho's oh-so-soft hand on him and, gods! His aunt's mouth? He couldn't be sure of course, his eyes had been closed but just as he began cuming he felt... gods! He knew he should sit down and talk with both of them. Either stop this or... Or what? Or continue? To what end? To take them to bed? Is that what he wanted? Of course it was! The mere though of their warm soft bodies, heavy full breasts, wide generous hips and then there was... Well he sure wasn't a man-lover. How could he not want them! But it was so wrong! His aunt and cousin! How could he take advantage of them like that? Or would he? Who really started it every time? It almost hurt when he thought about it. Right now all he felt was confused, and frightened, and curious, and excited... As he pushed the curtain aside he was relieved, mostly, to see that both of the women were already in bed. Again Sosho was in the top and Nesho in the bottom. Briefly he wondered if it would be better if he slept in his trousers. It might be safer he thought, but it would also be uncomfortable and to be honest he liked the feel of warm women pressed up against his bare flesh. Besides it would be uncomfortable for her lying up against these buckles and fasteners he rationalized. Having locked his guilt away for the time being, Dent quietly stripped off his shirt, boots and trousers hanging them carefully in the locker using just the little bit of light from the candle stub in the lantern. Leaving the candle stub to burn itself out, he moved cautiously over to the bunk, lifted the blanket and slipped into bed. Nesho was facing the bulkhead as he slowly moved closer trying not to disturb her slumber. Finally he was far enough on the bunk so he wouldn't fall out while still not actually touching her. But he could feel the heat from her body drawing him like a moth to the flame. He was glad, mostly, that he at least had his small clothes on because if he didn't, the slight distance wouldn't have been near enough to stop his throbbing erection from stabbing her in the back. With one arm under his head and the other lying on his hip, he groaned softly hoping against hope he would be able to get to sleep soon. Suddenly she moved back against him pressing him into her back. His arm instinctively went around her waist hugging her as she wriggled herself back into him. "Everything all right?" she mumbled as he moved the arm from under his own head placing it under hers. "Ah, y-yes," he stuttered wondering if she could feel his raging hard-on as it pressed into the crack between her ass cheeks. "Everything's fine." "Is it?" she said as she rolled slightly into him. Wiggling her ass forced his cock even deeper into her crack. It felt like his small clothes and her thin shift were barely there. "Feels like someone is going to have a hard time getting to sleep tonight." He didn't have to wonder anymore. He could almost hear the laughter in her voice. Rolling like a boneless minx within his grasp, Nesho ended up face to face with him. It was dark enough they couldn't actually see each other except for general outlines, but he could feel her nose next to his and almost taste her lips as they hovered, almost touching. Her hand reached down between them moving down his stomach until it finally rested on his fully erect cock, gently tracing its outline through the folds of his small clothes. "We shouldn't be doing this?" not quite a statement nor really a question. "Do you want me to stop?" she whispered. "N-no," he gasped. "Neither do I," she whispered back. He could feel her lips moving next to his and by tilting his head ever so slightly their lips brushed together, lightly, so softly it was almost like brushing up against nothing. Featherlight, their lips brushed together, back and forth. Then she moved and their kiss was no longer soft and gentle but lips crushing against each other. Nesho groaned into his mouth and he suddenly felt her tongue touching his lips, forcing its way between them and into his mouth. His tongue responded instinctively, entwining with hers, dancing together. Hers withdrew and his pursued; now he was thrusting his tongue into her, tasting her, exploring her. While their tongues explored each other, their hands were also moving with a will of their own. His caressed her back down to her hip and over to lightly stroke her buttocks. Even through the sheer shift he could feel her smoothness, how soft and pliable she was. Reaching down he pulled the shift up until it was over her buttocks leaving it bare to his touch. Groaning again she wriggled back away from him and in a single deft movement the shift was over her head and tossed to the deck next to the bunk. Kneeling, she began tugging his small clothes down to his ankles where he finally kicked them free. They were naked. In the dim glow of the stubby candle he could see her still kneeling over him, her pendulous breasts hanging down seeming to grow as they swung free. Hand shaking he reached out to softly caress one magnificent orb. She hissed as his hand stroked gently down its side until fingers rubbed over the engorged nipple. Carefully moving so as not to break contact she stretched out next to him, somewhat on her back but still slightly turned toward him. Reaching up, her hand enclosed his and pressed him firmly into her breast indicating she wanted more than just a light touch. He accommodated her, squeezing firmly but not hard enough, he hoped, to hurt. She rewarded him with another hiss of pleasure. It was the first time he had ever held the breast of a grown woman in his hand. He wasn't completely inexperienced; there had been a few young ladies he had the pleasure of being with in the dark corners of a park. Kissing and fondling mostly, two even allowing his hand under their tunics for a quick feel of their small firm breasts. But nothing prepared him for this! Nesho's breast was huge and soft compared to their small firm tits. Its nipple, the size of the end of his little finger, was standing upright in excitement almost a half inch in length. Without conscious thought, he bent over and sucked the nub into his mouth causing her to writhe and moan, her hand seeking the back of his head pulling him in even tighter. Firmly attached by the suction of his mouth, he released his hand from her tit and eagerly explored her naked body. Down over her stomach with its slight and oh-so-sexy layer of softening fat, over the hips and down the slim muscular legs to her knees until he exceeded his reach. Back up the other leg at which time she rolled even farther onto her back and slightly spread her legs giving him access to her inner thighs. His caress slowed as his fingers traveled over her incredibly smooth skin. As he sucked, he also used his teeth to softly nip at her distended nipple and the surrounding area. He could hear her breath become ragged even as her fingers grasped the hair on the back of his head keeping him firmly locked to her magnificent tit. The slow upward movement of his fingers stopped as they approached the vee of her legs and he could just barely feel the soft downy pubic hair covering her sex. Suddenly her legs parted even farther and her other hand quickly moved to cover his. He froze thinking he had crossed some invisible line, fearing he had gone too far. But instead of pushing him away she gently but firmly pulled his hand up until it fully covered her pubic mound. He felt her hips thrust slightly, forcing her mons up and against his hand. Her moaning was almost a whimper now, a soft crying. He began to gently rub her with a circular motion as she thrust even harder and more vehemently against him. He pressed down more firmly causing the whimpering moans to become even louder. He could feel the wet, slippery lips of her vagina under his fingers and began to delicately trace them with his fingertips. As he did this she grasped his hand tightly and forced it down until two of his fingers actually slipped past the outer lips and into her cunt. Without warning her legs came together trapping him, the fingers of her other hand clenching his hair hard enough to actually hurt. He could hear her stifle a scream as her body shook next to him. He was terrified that he had caused her to go into some kind of fit, but she was holding him with such hysterical strength he couldn't move even if he wanted to. After what seemed like forever, she relaxed all at once. Her fingers released their tight grip on his hair, her legs unclenched and the hand holding his fingers dropped to her side. Slowly, still thinking he might have hurt her, he withdrew his fingers, let her nipple fall from his mouth and moved up to where he could see her face. Her fingers were still on the back on his head but now they were gently caressing him. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dim candlelight and he could see her looking at him through half-closed eyes, lips slightly parted, her breathing deep and regular. A slow smile formed on her lips and she looked like a cat that had just finished a full saucer of cream. The fingers at the back of his head tightened again drawing him down until their lips met once more. The kiss was delicate this time, as passionate as ever but lacking the intense need of just moments before. Lips still locked, she rolled towards him pushing him over and onto his back. Dragging her fingernails lightly over his skin she drew her hand down his chest and over the washboard muscles of his stomach. His cock was standing up at a forty-five degree angle from his body and he waited for her to touch him, sure that when she did it would trigger one of the largest climaxes of his life. His need for release was so great the tension in his cock and balls was almost painful. But she didn't grab him. Instead her fingernails dug into the wiry pubic hair at the base of his penis, lightly scoring the skin and tugging at the coarse hairs. A low groan escaped his mouth as her hand brushed past his stiff member to lightly cup his balls, gently squeezing them, first one, then the other and finally both together. Chuckling, she took her lips from his and began kissing her way down his body following the path taken by her fingernails seconds earlier. Halfway down his stomach, she found it impossible to continue as his rigid cock was poking her in the eye, the dripping pre-cum leaving wet streaks on her eyelid. Lifting her head she gently kissed the top of his member, licking off the tiny drops then stuck the tip of her tongue into the opening of his urethra. Finally she pressed her lips down over the top of his prick, the wide bulbous head forcing them apart as she slipped more of him into her mouth. To Dent the feeling was one of hot moist pressure enclosing his straining cock. He knew she had put the tip in her mouth the other night when he came -- at least he thought she did -- but this was like nothing he had ever experienced before in his life. Slowly she engulfed his cock. He could feel her teeth run lightly across the top and bottom of his shaft as he sank deeper into her. The pleasure was incredible; he didn't think it could possibly get any better. Then she started to suck. Lightly, softly she sucked on his cock while at the same time slowly moving her head up and down drawing him out then plunging him back into her delightful oral cavity. "Oh gods!" he groaned as he felt his pent up climax start to release. "I-I-I'm going to cum!" he whispered hoarsely as he tried to lift her head up. Slapping his hands away she began to suck even harder, her cheeks hollowing out as she tried to draw the seed out of him by her self-created vacuum. He couldn't fight her; he was paralyzed as his entire being focused on the incredible sensations emanating from his cock. Finally her sucking mouth and the hand squeezing his balls resulted in the inevitable explosion and he began emptying his semen into her mouth. Squirt after squirt, rope upon rope of the sticky liquid shot into her. Pulling him out until just the tip remained inside, she took his emissions and drank them down like wine from a wineskin, swallowing as quickly as possible to ensure none of the precious nectar was lost. Finally he was drained. He stopped spurting and soon the last few dribbles were sucked and licked off of him. Reluctantly Nesho let his semi-flaccid cock leave her mouth with a soft plop. Kissing the head a couple more times while gently squeezing his balls, again she moved back up until she lay next to his heavily breathing form. Pulling his arm around her she laid her head on his shoulder and flung her arm over his chest. Molding her body to his, one leg came up to cover his outstretched limb. He couldn't believe what had just happened. For just a moment he wondered if it was another of the many dreams he had involving his aunt, but in those dreams she had never made him climax with her mouth. He had always been on top of her mating like a stallion with her legs wrapped around him encouraging him with her heels driving him deeper and deeper. So if this was a dream then it was a new one! But he knew he was awake and the warm soft body pressed next to him was his beautiful aunt, and they had indeed just pleasured themselves together! He couldn't think of what he should say. What was proper in this situation? Was anything proper? He had a thousand questions but didn't know which to ask first, or maybe not ask at all. He knew it should feel wrong, doing the things with her that they had been doing, but... Well the gods be dammed! It didn't feel wrong! He did feel a little guilty but his guilt came from not feeling guilty about the act, not from the act itself. What was wrong with him? Well, he was cuddled up next to one of the most beautiful women he knew, naked no less, which reminded him to reach down and pull the blanket over the two of them. He had just given her pleasure and hoped to do better next time (yes he intended for there to be a next time, so long as she allowed!), and she had given him pleasure beyond his wildest dreams! What was wrong was that he didn't give a damn that she was his aunt! She was becoming his woman and that is all that mattered. He had always loved her like a mother and now he desired her as a woman, and she seemed to desire him as a man! "Aunt Nesho?" he whispered. She smiled and pressed her fingers to his lips as if to tell him to be quiet, but he gently clasped her hand, kissed her fingers and then pulled them away from his lips. "No, we need to talk. I need to talk." "Very well, Master," she murmured tilting her head to look at him. "What do you wish to talk about?" "Oh yes, I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to call you that," he demurred, trying to keep his voice low. He twisted his head so his lips were next to her ear. "But you are my mother's sister. You are my aunt but I'm having a hard time thinking of you as anything other than an incredibly beautiful and desirable woman." He paused trying to order his thoughts as she squeezed him a little tighter. "I mean I have always loved you, but not like a man loves a woman... well other than in my dreams, maybe." He could feel the flush coming to his face. Silly, he thought, considering what has already happened. "But now it's different," he continued. "I can't think of you without thinking about being with you." "Is that bad?" she whispered back to him "I don't know," he answered. "What do you think? What do you want? Sometimes I think you feel the same way I do but then I get scared that you don't. Are you just pretending because of where we are now? If you are that's all right. I'll try to restrain myself but it's so hard to keep my hands off you when we're together!" "Then don't," she said. Reaching over and taking his hand, she moved it to her breast. She moved slightly allowing him full access to her succulent globe. "Part of it is the situation we find ourselves in," she admitted, feeling him stiffen up slightly. She pressed his hand firmly against her breast as she quickly went on. "If we hadn't been captured I never would have had the courage to do what I've done for the past two nights. Yes, it's partly the fact that either one of us could die at any time, or I could be taken away and never see you again. Yes, that's partly the reason I have become so bold. I love you Dent, but not as my sister's son, as a woman loves a man. I want to give myself to you; I want you to take from me what you will. I'm so afraid you wouldn't want me; after all I'm almost old enough to be your mother! I want to be your woman! I want you to use me as a man uses his woman! Do you understand? If you'll have me I'm yours! My heart, body and soul!" "Oh gods, I love you!" he rolled her over on top of him, hugging her tightly as her legs opened and came down on either side of his hips. He kissed her hair and forehead until she lifted her face and he was able to kiss her lips. He could feel the tears rolling down off her cheek and onto his face and he kissed her eyes trying to take those tears away. Suddenly she realized what position she was in: her legs were spread wide and poised inches away from his cock. Experimentally she pushed herself down until the head of his again-fully-erect member touched the slightly spread lips of her vulva. "Ahhh!" she moaned as she began to move her hips up and down, allowing the head of his penis to rub along the length of her cunt. "Are you sure?" he whispered hoarsely, not trusting himself to say anything more. "Grrrrr!" She actually growled at him as she rubbed herself up and down his long shaft. "Yesss!" she hissed through clenched teeth, "Now! Take me now!" With that she moved forward so that the head of his cock was again barely touching her outer lips and then with great determination she began to rock backward forcing his rock-hard shaft into her inches at a time. He tried to help by thrusting up and into her but her knees locked around his hips stopping his motion. This time she was going to fuck him! No matter how many times they would do it in the future she wanted to make sure he knew this time it was her decision, she was going to fuck him until he came inside her! Slowly, a fraction of an inch at a time her hips moved back and down as she impaled herself on his rock-hard rod. It felt like she was being split apart. It had been such a long time since anything had been in there and never anything this large. She was wet, very wet; this was as excited as she had ever been. Even when newly married and she believed herself in love she had never been this excited, this ready to receive a man! But he was so big! Seven inches at least, maybe even eight, and thick! He was almost as thick as her wrist! Her body shuddered with every inch that sunk into her. And it hurt, a little anyway, but the pain was so small compared to the intense pleasure it was giving her. Oh gods, she thought, how could I have lived without this? Her eyes closed as she concentrated on feeling him enter her. His hands came up and around to cup her buttocks and for a moment she thought he was going to force her down, force himself completely into her before she was ready. She stopped, waiting to see what he would do, but he did nothing more than gently cup her ass and squeeze. His touch shot through her body like wildfire and she immediately redoubled her effort to get him inside. Lifting herself up on her hands, she couldn't straighten up fully because of the bunk just above them, but this position allowed her to sit down on him and suddenly he slipped into her fully. Nesho's body was on fire. She had never felt so completely filled before in her life. Not only filled but fitted: he fit her perfectly. With her ass resting on his pelvis driving him as deeply into her as possible, she could just barely feel the tip of his cock resting at the entrance of her cervix. It was like he had been made for her, or her for him. Tremors ran through her body as she experienced one small orgasm after another, just from him being inside her! If she died right now she didn't care! This was what she was made for; her own loving sister had produced the one perfect man for her! Arching her back she opened her eyes and in the dim light met the eyes of her daughter. Sosho's head was hanging down from her bunk, hair cascading behind her, a look of... shock? Surprise? Jealousy? It didn't matter because just then Dent lifted his head and grasped one swinging nipple in his mouth and began to lightly suck. Another orgasm rippled through her body and her eyes closed as she moaned. Now she began to move. Pushing her hips up he slowly left her until just the bulbous head of his magnificent cock was still inside, then down again forcing him back inside completely. Slowly at first but picking up speed as her cunt became used to the massive intruder, she bounced up and down on her young man. Sweat began to form on her brow and chest with the exertion. His lips and teeth on her breast causing a sensation that seemed to be directly connected to her cunt. Every suck, every nip caused her vaginal muscles to contract sending a bolt of pure pleasure throughout her body. Suddenly she felt him grow rigid beneath her and his cock seemed to get even bigger as his mouth opened releasing her breast in a silent scream. Momentarily she felt disappointment in the loss of this stimulation but it was immediately forgotten as she felt him begin to cum inside her. She felt the first spurt of his seed being released but the bright white-hot bolt of the most intense orgasm she had ever felt soon eclipsed the sensation. It burned along every nerve in her body. Her eyes were open but seeing nothing. How long it lasted she couldn't tell. All she knew was she must have collapsed because the next thing she knew she was lying on top of him her face buried in his neck her hands clutching his shoulders, hips still forcing themselves down on him. Gradually she relaxed, her hand coming up to fondle his hair, cooing, whispering words of love and sounds of contentment in his ear while his hands gently stroked her back, buttocks and legs. Later, when his now flaccid dick fell from her body, she realized that she must be crushing him under her weight and she reluctantly rolled to his side resuming the same position she had before they had started. Half asleep she idly stroked his chest, softly as his regular breathing told her he was asleep, and tried to think about what had just happened and what it would mean to them. It's done, she thought to herself. It has finally happened, I have made love to my sister's son. She searched her soul and couldn't find even a small bit of guilt, nothing but joy. It was what she had wanted, really wanted, for a long time. Now that it happened she realized she was happy, happier than she had been in a long, long time, possibly forever. That Sosho saw them dong it was, unfortunate, but in such close quarters it was inevitable. Besides as noisy as she thought she might have been, the whole ship probably knew by now. Not that it would have been much of a shock to them; after all they assumed this went on all the time. But Sosho, she sighed, looks like I need another talk with her, but that's for later. Right now all she cared about was that she had never felt so good, so whole, before, and her man was sleeping beside her where he belonged. Smiling she drifted off to sleep. Dent awoke to the sounds of the bells. Eight bells, he thought, must be one-eight. Pleased with himself that he was beginning to understand the lingua of the ship (four in the morning his mind translated.) Oh what a dream! What a wonderful dream! He tried to shift but he suddenly realized something, or rather, someone, had his arm pinned. The candle stub had burned out so the only light in the tiny space came from the lantern in the main room that shown under the bottom of the curtain. Looking over he could just barely make out Nesho lying next to him, her head on his shoulder and arm thrown across his chest. It wasn't a dream! he thought. It wasn't a dream! He remembered the aching feeling he had while in her and the glory of release. It was quite simply the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him. Instantly he was fully erect again but reluctant to move lest he wake her. He contented himself with just stroking her hair with his free hand. She must not have been sleeping as deeply as he thought for her eyes opened and he could just see the hint of a smile through the darkness. Without saying a word she reached over and grabbed him firmly then rolled them both over until he was on top and between her wide-spread legs. With none of the effort required the first time, he entered her and began to move slowly in and out. This time their lovemaking took much longer, their pleasure less intense but longer and deeper. When again they came it was together, their lips locked, their mutual orgasms a result this time of love more so than lust. It was awhile before the two of them could finally get back to sleep. ------- Chapter 10 Morning came with the usual pounding on the bulkhead by Festou. Dent sat up and looked over to Nesho who was lying under the blanket naked, one leg sticking out. The sight of that long, slim pale limb started Dent to thinking about the previous night and what they had done and involuntarily he started to get hard again. Shaking his head to clear it he stood up and retrieved his small clothes from the deck where they had been thrown the night before and slipped them on. Walking over to the curtain, he pushed it aside and stepped out into the small passageway. "Good morn, Festou," he said brightly. He noticed the boy was carrying a basket this morning instead of the usual bucket. "Is that breakfast for the ladies?" "Aye sir, it is," he piped up. "Cook, he wanted me to say to Mistress Nesho that that salve she made him done helped his joints something great. He says he don't care if she is only a slave, that she gets good food from his galley from now on." Lifting the cloth covering the top of the basket Dent could see a variety of dried fruits, bread, meats and gravy. "Well Mistresses Nesho and Sosho will be most thankful for his consideration I'm sure." Dent took the basket and started to turn back into the cabin. "Ah, they're not up just yet. Why don't you wait right here and I'll be right out. They had a kind of tiring day and I'm letting them sleep in a bit." "Tiring day? Aye sir!" the boy laughed, "Them in the compartment here was complaining that the mistress was screaming with pleasure so loud she was going to wake the whales! Said it wasn't right you should pleasure them such. Might make the other slaves start thinking they should get some themselves!" "Well," Dent's face turned bright red and he muttered, "a happy servant is a hard-working servant." Hurrying to hide his face Dent ducked behind the curtain and set the basket down next to the locker. Nesho was standing fastening the front of her blouse; she had already pulled on her skirt. Meeting his eyes she gave a slow sultry smile that about caused Dent's heart to fail. "Good morning, Master," she purred coming over to give his cheek a slow sensuous stroke before turning back to the bunk where she started to fold the blanket, preparing it for daytime use. "Ah, yes, well ah, good morning, Nesho," he stammered before quickly turning to retrieve the rest of his clothes. Swiftly he pulled on his trousers and while fastening his shirt he looked up to the top bunk where he found Sosho staring back at him. Right away he could feel his face burn; he was blushing again and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it! "Good morning, Sosho," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Good morning, Master," she replied. She was on her side, head propped up and resting on her hand. "You're blushing." "Well it's just hot in here, that's all," he retorted. She had to know what happened in here last night, he thought. Glancing up he expected to see her look at him with revulsion, maybe disgust, certainly accusation, but there was nothing of the sort. In fact there was very little in her expression; it wasn't like it was vacant or barren, just normal, which really seemed strange. "Yes, very hot," she said. "Almost hot enough to make you want to sleep naked, isn't it?" He looked up sharply. Was that a hint of amusement in her eyes? Is she actually teasing me or is that condemnation? She should be furious, he thought. Well shouldn't she? He expected her to try to hit him with something, yell at him, denounce him as a sinful person, but she didn't. Shaking his head in wonderment Dent came to a realization, the same realization that usually takes a man a lifetime to learn, if then, that he didn't understand how the female mind worked and he wasn't going to be able to out-guess it. Coward he may be but he didn't want to confront his cousin with the new relationship between him and her mother. Quickly he finished dressing and stepped over to Nesho to say goodbye. "I had better hurry if I'm going to get some breakfast and get ready for practice," he said. He leaned over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek but Nesho grabbed his face in both hands and gave him a long, deep kiss, a lover's kiss. "Be careful, my Master," she said patting him on the cheek. Then turning she said in a voice almost too low to hear, "This very happy servant will work very hard today." She laughed as she saw him turn red again and then he grinned. He may have been the butt of the joke, but it was still a very good joke. Just before he left he swatted her on the butt and was rewarded with a surprised little yelp. He winked at Sosho and strode out of their tiny space. "Festou, are you going to stay and eat with us?" Nesho pushed back the curtain expecting to see the little manikin waiting just beyond, but he wasn't, the passageway was empty. "Well I guess not," she said mostly to herself. Turning back she saw Sosho slide down from the top bunk to alight on the deck. Humming to herself she smiled at her daughter, picked up the breakfast basket and set it and herself down on the lower bunk. Since the top bunk was still down she couldn't sit upright so she lay back, resting against the bulkhead as she rummaged through the basket. "This is wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I really must thank the cook for this. Sosho, you should see this, I think it's better than any we had on the Pinya!" She began munching on a piece of bread covered with gravy as she stared dreamily at nothing through half-lidded eyes. Sosho finished dressing, stepped up to clear and stow her bunk, sat down next to her mother and started rummaging through the basket. "You seem happy this morning," she said after taking a few bites. "Very happy," Nesho answered. "And why is that?" Sosho asked innocently. "I think you know why," Nesho answered still smiling. "Was fucking Dent that good?" "Good?" Nesho looked over at Sosho, "Good? No, my little bit, it was the best! I have never felt anything like that before." "Then I can assume that he didn't force himself on you?" "Ha!" her mother snorted. "Are you asking if he raped me? Oh no, my baby, I saw you watching us. Did it look like he was forcing me to do anything?" "Ha!" Sosho snorted right back. "Even upside down it didn't look like he was in much of a position to do any forcing. If anyone was being raped, it was probably him!" "Well I've always heard that you can't rape the willing," chuckled Nesho. "And our dear master seemed to be very willing once I beat it into his head that I wanted it as much or maybe even more than he did." Suddenly she looked seriously at Sosho. "How do you feel about what happened? We talked about it before but I really didn't intend to put on a show for you; it just sort of happened and..." She gestured helplessly around at their small space. "Well it was quite a show," Sosho grinned at her. "Sounds like some others may have heard it also." "Yes, well," Nesho actually blushed and looked down at her hands. "I've never made that kind of noise before; it took me by surprise. To tell the truth I was so overwhelmed that I didn't know what I was saying or doing." "I gathered that," Sosho replied dryly. Then her smile faded and her eyes searched Nesho's face for something she expected to see there. "When I first saw you," she said slowly, "you looked like you were hurting. Did it hurt? Did he hurt you?" "I won't lie to you, baby," Nesho said looking over at her, still smiling. "Yes it hurt a little the first time I was taking him inside me. He is much larger than your father was and it's been a long time since I've done this. Yes, it hurt, but -- and I don't know how to explain this -- it hurt good! Really good!" She stretched her arms and legs out curling her toes as she did. Then she looked over at the younger woman with a bit of a smirk, "And the second time it didn't hurt at all!" "The second time?" Sosho's jaw dropped and her eyes opened wide. "The second time?" "Ah well, it's good to know we can be somewhat discreet." Nesho sat back up and searched through the basket for something else to eat. Picking a piece of the fruit and bread with meat she settled back crossing her legs under her while she nibbled. They ate in silence for a while, neither one looking at the other. Finally Sosho set down what she had been eating and looked up at Nesho. "What does it feel like?" Nesho didn't answer for a moment or two. Then she also carefully set down her breakfast and met Sosho's eyes. "I could tell you it's the most wonderful thing in the world. I could talk about the pleasure, the..." she took a deep breath, "the amazing feeling when you finally climax, and it would all be true, but it wouldn't be enough." She remained silent until Sosho thought she had finished, but then she began talking again although this time she stared out into space not really looking at anything. "I could tell you all that, but it wouldn't be enough. This wasn't my first time, of course, so I have something to compare it to, but I believe last night was the first time I ever really made love with a man. I mean really made love. I know it sounds silly but it felt like the first time. It's different when you're with someone you know loves you and you love him. You feel... complete, whole, like a real woman instead of just some mattress pad he's spilling his seed into." "Oh," Sosho said in a very tiny voice, "Oh... So you plan to keep, ah, being with him? Even though he's your... you know?" "Just try to stop me," Nesho growled. Then she sighed and looked over at her daughter. "That doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore. I am his woman. Even if he doesn't want me, I'm still his. Someday I hope you'll understand what I feel and why, but its not something I can explain. It just is." "But it's just so, I don't know... strange," Sosho sat looking down picking at the tattered hem of her dress. "I mean last week you were his aunt, and now you're what... ? His wife?" "Concubine, I suppose would be the correct term as I doubt Jeeval would recognize marriage to a slave. Maybe not even that, maybe I'm just his whore to them, but that doesn't matter either. The only person whose opinion matters is Dent's. If he thinks of me as his wife, then I'm his wife. If I'm nothing but his whore, then I'm his whore. If all he wants from me is for me to spread my legs it doesn't matter; he'll still have my love and devotion." "But where does that leave me?" Sosho whined. "What am I to be? Is Dent now my father? Cousin? Master? Do I become his wife also?" "Hmm," Nesho harrumphed, then she looked up with a wicked grin, "I'm not sure I want to share him just yet! But I think you can be sure he won't abandon you. What you become will probably be up to you for the most part. A part of his household for certain, but what part... ? "I think that will be up to you. What do you want to be? Just another servant? I'm sure he would be fine with that. His lover? I don't know, I think you would have to convince him it's what you wanted. I certainly won't tell you not to. Do you think I would tell you because you're his cousin you shouldn't sleep with him? Ha! Even I'm not that much of a hypocrite. But I don't think you need to worry about it for a while. Let's see what happens in the next few weeks. Remember I became his lover because I wanted to, not because I had to." "And," she said still grinning, "I don't think you need to worry about taking care of him like yesterday. I intend to cover that myself! I have a lot of empty years to make up for and all I can hope for is he can still stand up when he needs to!" "And I suppose I get to listen to your sacrifice every night while I try to sleep up there," Sosho laughed as she pointed to the upper bunk. Nesho laughed with her but at least had the decency to blush a little when she did. The morning went smoothly for Dent, which was both good and bad. He didn't remember eating breakfast although he must have as he didn't feel hungry and it was easier than most times to allow his body to run through the T'chi exercises on its own; his mind was far, far away. Everything except the scent, feel and thought of the women he shared his bed with seemed to slip away. He was elated! Empowered! And of course thoroughly confused. What did it all mean? Was it really what she wanted or was that just his wishful thinking? Would she want to do it again? Oh gods, he thought, she must! He didn't think he could live in the same room with her without being able to touch her again! When the bell rang announcing the time to start the practice session, he tried to put those thoughts out of his head and concentrate on the job at hand. Not only must he do this correctly to keep his place but one small lapse and someone would bash his brains out and there would be no sleeping with anyone anymore! The practice also went smoothly. He hadn't exaggerated the night before: Most of these men did know how to fight; they just didn't know how to fight together. His time was spent forming them into coherent units, demonstrating how to work in pairs to both attack and defend and by the end of the session more than one of the boarding party members was looking at him with a great deal more respect. It had already been established that he was a terrific fighter, better by far than any one of them, but now it was becoming clear what he intended to accomplish with them. He showed them their weaknesses all right, sometimes painfully, but then he also showed them how to eliminate that weakness or at least shield it. The techniques were really very simple. The hard part was training the body and mind to react as needed during actual combat. The simulations he set up were realistic even if the weapons weren't and a jab from a wooden sword may not kill but it could sure bruise and hurt. Repetition, explanation, drill, drill and more drill. Hard training wasn't something these mercenaries were particularly used to. A couple of hours a week hacking at each other usually met the minimal requirements Captain Vel had always imposed. After all, it wasn't his gut that was going to be split if you didn't practice, right? Wrong. Dent demonstrated what two men working together could accomplish. He would set two as individuals against a fighting pair. It didn't take long to become obvious that the pair killed the individuals in short order every single time. Then three against two, same result. Four against two was about even but Dent told them even that would change as they worked and became used to the new style. "You are a team!" he shouted as they drilled. "The sword and the shield: One protects while the other attacks! Then attacks as the other protects! Again! Again! Again!" He was surprised when he heard the bell ring and the two squads started putting away their practice gear. "Very good," he told them, "much better. Remember what you learned today and tomorrow we move on to something a little more challenging." "Challenging?" grumbled one older veteran, "Damn, Armsman, we still can't take you even three to one!" "Well," Dent replied realizing it had been the first time he had been called Armsman by anyone other than Vel. "I do have a few more years practice then most of you. That may take three sessions to learn instead of two." The response was laughter from both units as they ambled off, most to get ready for their upcoming watch. Dent stripped down and rinsed himself with seawater again, this time using a little soap to cut through some of the sweat and grit he was covered in. He took some to his hair and even though the saltwater made him feel gritty, it was better than oily. He stood next to the rail letting the brisk sea air dry his body while he looked out over the sun-lit choppy waters. Sensing motion behind him, he turned to find Nesho standing there. She curtsied before him and then stood firmly upright. Her face was devoid of emotion although her gaze traveled the length of his naked body before returning to his eyes. There was definitely a glint in those eyes and he could swear a hint of a smirk on her lips. "Good day, Master Dent," she said loudly. "Ah, yes, Nesho," he stammered slightly as he tried to inconspicuously hide his rising member behind the small clothes he held in his hands. "Master Dent," yes, her eyebrows did arch up slightly, she was teasing him! "The cook has invited me to dine in the galley with him and the messmen for noon meal if it meets with your approval." Nonchalantly, at least he thought it was, he waved his free hand saying, "Certainly. If our good cook wishes your presence, then by all means do so." "My thanks, Master," she said curtsying again. Then as she straightened up she continued in a voice only loud enough for him to hear, "The Master should eat and rest up for this evening's, I mean, this afternoon's exertions." He could feel the pounding in his chest at her words as he tried to respond. "Ah, yes, well, of course I... Well yes, I shall." "Then, Master, I go, by your leave?" He nodded but just before she turned away she winked and let just the hint of a smile touch her lips. He watched as she swayed across the deck and disappeared down one of the main deck hatches. Realizing he must look silly just standing there naked, he pulled on his small clothes and trousers. The shirt was still drenched with sweat so he decided not to put it on and he wondered if it might be better if he conducted arms practice without a shirt; he was certainly dirtying them quickly enough. Stamping into his boots he headed up forward to collect another shirt before eating. Ducking his head he entered the main berthing compartment. Striding into the main space he was surprised to find Sosho seated crossed legged against a beam running a needle in and out of a piece of cloth spread out in her lap. Around her were four sailors, also seated on the deck. Two were splicing line and the other two not doing much of anything constructive. The five of them were talking as he entered, concentrating on her sewing obviously not stopping the girl from talking while she worked. One of the sailors saw him and the talking suddenly stopped. Sosho lifted her head and when she saw him she smiled brightly and gracefully came to her feet. She too curtsied and said, "Good day, Master Dent! What can I help you with?" "Ah," he started somewhat taken aback, "I came, ah, for a clean shirt." She nodded to the sailors who were slowly coming to their feet, "Gentlemen, my Master needs me. Maybe we can continue this discussion another time." Without waiting for an answer she turned and headed towards their small cabin area. "Ah, we was jest talking to the wench, Warrior," one of the sailors said sounding slightly nervous. "We hopes it don't cause no trouble for the lass. She be better company than most the lardheads round here. Ain't nothing else, I swear." "Of course there wasn't," he said and they seemed to relax. "I don't mind you talking to my ladies anytime they wish, so long as they get their work done of course." He said the last sternly and the four of them chuckled. "And I might add so long as no undo liberties are taken." "Wouldn't think of it, Warrior. Never been with such fine ladies even if they is yur doxies. Oh sorry, Warrior, didn't mean no offense. Forgot ye don't like them being called that." He paused for a moment. "Come to think, it don't seem right calling them that. Maybe they is yur slaves but they seem to be right nice ladies too." "Yes, they are. You might want to try talking to other women. Slave or not, you might be surprised at what you find." "I don't know, Warrior," he said chuckling. "Most I usually discuss with a female is the price or where I wants to put it, and that's usually with the madam." "Well," Dent said shrugging, "even a whore has something to say. You never know; she may be glad to talk and it might make her happy. I know most men couldn't care less if she is, but I've found if you keep women happy they work harder, both to do what you tell them and to keep you happy. I have found a little kindness pays me back rich rewards. Well, gentlemen, if you will excuse me I must be going." As he walked away he could hear them talking amongst themselves. "Never heard of such a thing! Kindness to a slave? Nonsense!" "I dinna know. He seems to do right by his and I ain't never seen a harder working pair. Why he don't even need to beat them to get them going!" "Maybe yes, maybe no, but talk to a whore? Whoever heard of such a thing!" Their voices became muffled as he pushed through the curtain. He was surprised to see Sosho standing in the middle of the cabin waiting for him. "I suppose you'll be wanting a massage before you head up for your lunch, now won't you?" her mouth was in a pout and her hands were on her hips. Dent could suddenly feel every bang, bruise and sore muscle in his body. "Ah," he moaned trying to stretch out, "that would be wonderful!" Then he sighed, "But I can see you're not exactly in the mood so I guess just a clean shirt if I have one, then I'll be off." "Bah," she said walking over and grabbing his arm, "whoever heard of a master asking if his slave was in the mood." Grabbing his arm she dragged him towards the bunk, her grasp was surprisingly strong for so slight a girl. "You're going to have to work on your Master act, Master Dent," she said pushing him down until he lay sprawled face down on the bunk. Taking a seat on the bunk next to him she leaned over and started to firmly work the muscles in his neck and down his bare back. "If you don't start treating us like a real slave owner would people are going to talk," her fingers eased the tension and soothed his aching body as she continued to talk. "Maybe you should slap us around a bit. Everyone seems to expect that; maybe it's required." Under her hands he suddenly tensed up. When she felt that, she lightly slapped him on the buttocks and said, "I'm just teasing, a little anyway. I'm glad you don't want to hit us, although I'm sure there may have been times in the past..." She could feel his body shaking with suppressed laughter although she couldn't hear it. "I will admit," he said, his voiced muffled by the fact that his face was buried in the mattress, "there may have been a time or two when I wanted to take you over my knee and knock some sense into that pretty little bottom of yours!" "Oh? So you think I have a pretty bottom?" Raising his head up and folding his arms under his chin he twisted his neck so he could look back at her. "Of course you do. I shouldn't say this of course, since it will go right to your head and you will be utterly impossible to live with, but yes, your bottom is pretty and so is the rest of you." "Why thank you, kind sir, and as a matter of fact I think your bottom is pretty nice too." Giggling, she smacked him again on the area in question before returning to her ministrations to his back. The she leaned down close to his ear and whispered, "But is mine as pretty as Nesho's?" "Ah, well, mmm..." She could see his ears turning bright red and wondered what the rest of his face must look like. It is actually kind of sweet, she thought. "No sense in getting that way now," she chided. "We both know what has happened and besides mother, I mean Nesho, and I had a nice long talk about it this morning. But I have one question for you." Again she felt him tense up under her hands. "What do you intend to do about it?" she said. "Intend?" he asked back. "What do you mean, intend?" "I mean what do you intend." She said keeping her voice as neutral as possible. "Now that you've fucked her, do you intend to keep fucking her? Are you going to use her for a while and then cast her aside or what?" Then she surprised him by laughing softly. "Gods, I sound like someone's father asking a suitor if his intentions are honorable." She could feel him relax. "Well," she said this time somewhat anxiously, "are your intentions honorable?" Rolling over on his side he looked up at her. The blush completely gone from his face, he looked as grown up and old as she could ever remember. "I intend to spend the rest of my life with her." She exhaled. Without realizing it, she had been holding her breath. "That's good," she said. "That's very good." "This is all right with you?" he asked somewhat puzzled. "All right?" she shrugged, "It's weird. I would never believe it possible. If you would've told me this would happen a week ago I would have laughed in your face, or thrown up on your shoes." She grinned as she said it, but then she turned more serious and continued, "I saw how happy she was this morning, truly happy. Even with everything that has happened to us I think she is as happy as I have ever seen her. She's a woman in love and it shows." "I love her too, you know," Dent said softly. "See, that's good!" Sosho replied. "Now that we've taken care of Nesho, what about me?" "Oh I love you, too," he quipped. "No, you idiot!" she said poking him in the side. "I mean what are you going to do with me." "What are you talking about?" Dent asked, a bit puzzled. "I'm not going to do anything with you. The three of us are family and we stay together. What is it you think I should do with you?" "I don't know. I thought maybe you were thinking of starting your own little harem here, or am I just the scullery maid?" "Scullery maid? Ha! Trying to get work out of you would be like trying to get water out of a stone!" As he said it, she attacked using her fingers to tickle under his arms, a spot she knew from experience was extremely vulnerable. He retaliated by trying to grab her hands and holding her still. The final outcome was him sprawled on his back with her stretched over him both their hands occupied lest the other renew the attack, both of them giggling. "Well," he said as they looked at each other, eye to eye, nose to nose. "Now what do we do?" "I guess we wait until you give up," she said. "Until I give up?" he laughed, "What do you mean me give up. I've got you right where I want you." "Oh you do, do you?" she said grinning. "And just what do you think you can do with me like this?" "This," he said quickly sticking his tongue out and licking her nose with a wet slurp. "Ack!" she screamed, pulled her hands free and started to pummel him as he lay helplessly laughing using his arms to protect his face. "Well, well, what do we have here?" All action ceased and they looked up to see Nesho standing just inside the curtain doing her best to give them both a stern look. Sosho straightened up to a sitting position, placed her hands primly in her lap and stuck her nose up in the air. "He," she said pointing one finger towards Dent, "licked my nose." Nesho looked over at Dent questioningly. "Why would you do that?" she asked. "Because she stuck it in my face," he said grinning. "Oh?" she responded with a slow sultry smile. "And will you lick anything that is stuck in your face?" Dent's face started to burn red and Sosho hissed, "Nesho!" But then he sat up just a little, looked Nesho in the eye with a glint and said, "I will if it's as sweet as her nose." This time Nesho's face started to burn and she looked down mumbling, "Yes, well, I suppose we'll have to see won't we." Sosho turned and lightly smacked him on the head saying, "Dent! Behave yourself! I can see I'm going to have to watch you two closely or there will be a father with a sword and a priest in your future!" "What? Watch us more closely than you already have been, my dear?" Nesho shot back at her evilly. Now all three of their faces were burning red and after looking at each other, all three started laughing. "Well," said Dent with a smirk as he pushed himself up and off the bunk, "I just came down here for a clean shirt and I better get one and be on my way. I can see I already have more trouble on my hands then I know how to deal with so I think it be best if I just claim the win and retreat." "Harrumph" both women said together. Looking at each other they just grinned and giggled. "Well, you run away then, my man," Nesho said. "Word is you are to take eve meal in the wardroom until further notice and that being so, the cook has invited both Sosho and myself to eat with the messmen from now on. No need to eat alone in here. So if we don't cross paths until later this eve you be careful my love." Without another word she crossed to him and grabbed him, giving him a hard and not so subtle kiss on the mouth. Bouncing up Sosho stood on her toes to give him a kiss on the check adding, "Yes, be careful, and oh yes this is for you." Grabbing his ears and pulling his face around she stuck her tongue out and gave him a big lick on the nose. "Now how do you like that?" "I've felt worse," he grinned. "Later, loves." Turning he strode through the curtain. ------- Chapter 11 "Well are you trying to steal my man, you little hussy?" Nesho's raised eyebrows and smiling lips took the sting out of her words. "Ha! As if I could," Sosho retorted. "Claims he's in love with you and wants to live with you the rest of his life. I'm not sure there's much room in there for me." "Well that's good to hear, all of it. But truth be told, you can't steal something that's already yours. And you're wrong you know: there is room for you, is, was and will be." Nesho waved her hand as if waving off something unimportant, "And I don't mean the sex although I do hope you allow this poor old woman a little fun before you take him from me. But really we are family; we're all we have left and we have to watch out for each other." "I know we are and that makes me feel good," Sosho grinned at her mother. "Besides I haven't decided if I want him that way yet. Who knows? if I turn out to enjoy it as much as you do, he may be used up in just a week or two." "I think you underestimate the stamina of our young bull. He came three times last night and I think he could have gone again this morning if we had had time." "Three times!" Sosho gasped, "I thought you said two times!" "No," Nesho smirked, "I said we made love two times, he came once before we even really got started. Like I said, don't underestimate him. He is a perfect physical specimen in his prime. I don't think he would have any problem servicing a whole stable of mares if he so desired." "Do you think he would?" Nesho shrugged, "I don't think so, but then I intend to keep him well satisfied right here. No sense in tempting fate." The afternoon practice didn't go quite as smoothly as the morning had. It was clear from the day before that the two morning squads had the better-trained fighters, more willing to fight with this new technique. The Fourth squad just didn't want to fight as a unit. Squad Three was doing a fair job -- not good but fair -- but the ten men in Squad Four were simply impossible to work with. They were surly, lazy, vindictive and when shown a new technique would invariably do the opposite. Not only was it painful to try to teach them but Dent knew they couldn't be relied on if it came to battle. He wasn't all that surprised. Most of the men in that unit could be seen hanging around with the likes of Seaman Garth. Like to like, he thought. He wasn't sure if they were truly hopeless but they were interfering with the training of the Third Squad and he would rather have one trained unit and the other untrained than two half-trained, so he used them as training dummies. They were the ones who were always the enemy either defending or attacking. For some reason they never questioned this differential treatment, just like they never seemed to realize it was their side that always lost these mock battles. Every once in a while Dent would look up at the pilot bridge and see Captain Vel, the Bo'sun or Pilot Seth looking down at them. He hadn't really noticed it in the morning session, but then the two morning squads demanded his full attention. He hardly noticed the close scrutiny. Every day of his life at the academy had been spent under close and harsh examination. Every move he made was reviewed and analyzed, mistakes revealed and corrections made. It was to be expected in a profession where each battle was a final exam and failure was probable death. Still their eyes seemed to bore holes in the back of his neck. After the session was finished he washed up and headed back down to their cabin hoping to see Nesho, or Sosho at least, but the cabin was empty. There was a fresh change of clothing lying on the bunk and he silently thanked them as he shrugged off the soiled and donned the clean. With nothing else to hold him there he decided to walk the deck waiting for the proper time to arrive at the wardroom. As he passed through the berthing compartment he was greeted by a few hails, most seeming to come from members of the First and Second squads since they had just come off watch. Some were just general greetings and some were rather more ribald requests to keep the screaming women under control during the night. Reddening slightly, he just waved and smiled as he continued topside. Once up on deck he wandered aft where he watched a group of sailors tending lines and making minor repairs to the ships woodwork. At five-six bells he was outside the open wardroom door knocking on the bulkhead. He could see all the other officers were already there although not all were yet seated. Captain Vel turned with a scowl and waved him in. "No need for that nonsense," he said. "For now this is your mess for eve meal. We have many things we wish to discuss with you, Armsman, and now is the best time for us. Now get in here and sit down. We're about to serve." The meal was reasonably pleasant but like the Captain had alluded to, there were many questions, most dealing with the training of the boarding parties. The Bo'sun couldn't understand why they were being split into pairs, or even squads for that matter. In the past they had attacked as a mob and generally overran the enemy. Good enough then, good enough now. Without becoming too argumentative -- he might as well argue with the wind -- Dent proposed a demonstration of their new techniques in three of four days. "I think I can better show you rather that explain what I'm trying to do," he said. "It would be nice if we could get all the boarding parties together, though." "Easily done," said Captain Vel. "It's been long enough since we had a real battle-stations drill. We'll do that and you can have all your boarders together. Now, what I want to know is how they're coming along?" From there he launched into a series of questions that demonstrated he knew much more about what was going on then Dent had expected, especially where it concerned the Fourth Squad. "Captain, I don't know if I can train this particular group to fight the way they should." He looked over at the Bo'sun and nodded his way. "At least the way I think they should. They don't respect me, which I can understand and they don't respect what I am teaching them, which I don't understand. It should be obvious even to the blind by now that those using my techniques continuously defeat those fighting as individuals. It just doesn't make sense." He slumped in his seat frowning. "May it be they just don't believe your little tricks will work in battle?" the Bo'sun said snidely. "I'm certain you're correct," Dent sighed, "and partly they are correct. Practice isn't battle, but I have no doubt that if they can learn to fight together and not as individuals they will be much more effective. I'm just afraid it may take a battle to prove it and if it comes to that too many of them will pay for that ignorance with their lives." "Ah well, it may come to that sooner than you expect," mused Vel. When Dent perked up and looked at him expectantly he continued, "Well it's no secret that Malshall has at least one of its naval vessels standing to somewhere outside of Harv'el. They're doing the same thing we're paid to do: disrupt shipping. If they see us with Pinya they may well try to take her back and that we can't allow." "Malshallian navy in these waters? Wouldn't that be an act of war? One of their own vessels attacking Jeevelian shipping?" "No more so then us attacking theirs," Vel shrugged. "Both sides pretend they aren't really doing it to hurt the other. Malshall says they're after pirates and Jeevel disavows any knowledge of what we do on the high seas. A thin fiction, but so long as both sides agree, it prevents open warfare." Dent was skeptical but was very interested in the Malshallian ships. What size crew, how many fighters, trained solders or fighting seamen? Unfortunately little was known since those factors varied widely depending on the ship itself. Generally it seemed any Malshallian vessel would probably be of a size and manned very similarly to the Death Grip, or at least what the Death Grip would have had before the prize crew was put aboard the Pinya. So in any match up Death Grip would probably be out-manned by at least twenty-five percent. Not insurmountable, mused Dent, especially if one was on the defense instead of the attacker. "I thought ye said ye would always be the attacker?" asked Seth. "Didn't ye say ye would have always send boarders to the other ship?" "Well I've been taught to never say always," Dent replied. "Usually the best defense is a good offense, but that doesn't mean you don't let your enemy bash himself against good solid defendable walls every once in a while." Some small talk about tactics and boarding strategy continued until the meeting started to break up. As he got up to leave, Captain Vel waved Dent over to him. "I been hearing good things about them women of yours," he said. "They're making themselves useful. Pity you will probably have to sell one when we get to Harv'el. Be tough to decide, that's for sure. Both are lookers, but you'll probably get more for the younger." "Why would I sell either one of them?" Dent asked, his stomach knotting up into painful stitches at the words. "Well the port tax on a slave is one gold," Vel said. "A bit steep, but the Putram's been losing plenty to Malshall and smugglers. Just bring them in elsewhere with forged tattoos and he don't get his head tax. But the tattoo would cost you another silver-- two golds and two silvers. You got that kind of money?" "We have some in the trunks in the Pinya," Dent answered knowing it was nowhere near two and two. "And I was thinking of using salidin instead of tattoos." "Hmm, I can understand why you'd want to do that -- save their pretty faces -- although you get used to the marks quick enough. Still salidin cost at least another gold and you need one of the O'Tech priests to put them on. Might run you as much as five, six gold before it's all done. "Funny thing is a nice little slave like your young one could fetch ten, maybe eleven gold on the market but with salidin, it could be half that. Well maybe more if you found the right buyer, but that may take some time. Bound slaves like that aren't easy to transfer; reduces their value to most. Now with the right buyer you could maybe get twenty or even thirty but that might take time you don't have." It was a very subdued young warrior that returned back to his space that evening. All the way from the wardroom to their cabin Dent's brain was spinning from one possible scenario to another; the only one that he didn't even think about was actually selling one of his family. He would die first, he decided. Actually that had been decided long ago but now it was getting close to reality. Still in a daze he stumbled into their cabin -- there wasn't even a candle stub burning this evening -- banging into the locker. "Who's there?" he heard coming from the direction of the bunks. He was pretty sure it was Nesho although the two of them had even started to sound alike lately. "It's me," he whispered as he started to remove his clothes, folding them carefully and setting them on the locker by touch alone. "Well, Me, you'd better leave before my husband gets home. He's a fine big warrior and doesn't appreciate other men warming his bed." "Ha!" Dent chuckled. "If he isn't in there right now then he can't be very smart. Maybe I'll just crawl in there and warm myself up since he isn't." By this time he was in only small clothes feeling his way over to the bunks. He thought, but wasn't sure, he heard a giggle from somewhere above his head, about where Sosho should be. "On your head be it then," the voice almost purred. "Be warned though once in here you may never be able to leave." "I'll take that chance," he said lifting the blanket and slipping under it. Immediately he was confronted by a very warm, very naked woman whose hands seemed to be everywhere on him at once. His worry of the past moment was completely subdued by the fire ignited in his loins. Finally they settled for pushing down his small clothes until her foot could hook them and push them completely off. Mouth found mouth in the dark and the pace of their lovemaking slowed somewhat while tongues intertwined and battled, each savoring the taste of the other. Breaking away, Dent resisted Nesho's attempts to bring their lips back together. He ignored her slight grunt of disappointment as he began to kiss and nibble his way down her throat, over her chest where he began to lick the magnificent globes of her breasts. Her earlier disappointment quickly turned to small gasps of pleasure as he licked every inch of both mounds and then very lightly grasped one nipple with his teeth and started to gently pull. Her hands went to the back of his head, fingers weaving into his hair and she suddenly pulled him hard into her breast. Afraid he was going to bite her he opened his mouth, releasing the small nub allowing the entire nipple and surrounding areola to be forced into his mouth, precisely what she wanted. Accepting her desire he began to gently suckle as he had at her sister's breast years ago, this time for mutual pleasure rather than nourishment. Grinding her teeth together Nesho struggled to keep her moans of pleasure quiet while her lover sucked and nipped one nipple then the other. Feeling the blinding need to have him inside her she vainly tried to pull him up and on top, whimpering with her need for release. Dent had other ideas. Releasing her nipple, he slowly worked his way down her flat belly, stopping momentarily at her navel, sticking his tongue into the small indenture while she thrashed and whimpered beneath him. Continuing downward his lips soon met the downy softness of her pubic hair as he licked and kissed his way to his ultimate destination. Drawing her knees up and throwing her legs as wide apart as possible Nesho endured the most exquisite torture she had ever known. She literally shook with desire, lips pulled back in a grimace of almost painful need. When his tongue finally traced the soft folds of her outer lips she was dripping with the physical manifestation of her lust. As his tongue slowly parted those lips and delved into the moist passageway, she exploded with an orgasm that flooded her entire body with a burning pleasure so intense she was sure she would faint at any second. Even then he continued licking, lapping at her portal like a dog straining to retrieve every speck of food from his bowl. This constant assault produced a multitude of mini-orgasms like the aftershocks of a giant earthquake, nowhere near as intense but leaving her unable to move or even speak coherently. For Dent it was as if he had stuck his tongue into a fountain of liquid sugar. He was sure he had found the mythical nectar of the gods. The heady musk scent combined with the exquisite taste of the juices streaming from her cunt produced a burning sensation that enveloped his entire body. At first he thought he could lay there and worship at her altar forever but he soon found that impossible. His cock was painfully hard and the pressure in his balls demanded he find some kind of relief. He wasn't very experienced at sex yet but instinct is a powerful master and just as any rutting dog or lust-maddened bull knows what is required so did he. Nesho felt him move. First there was the absence of his wonderful tongue leaving her feeling empty but that small frustration was overwhelmed by the knowledge that her stallion would soon be possessing her in an even more satisfactory manner. He positioned himself between her legs and she trembled as she felt his thighs press against hers wishing it weren't so dark so she might look up into his eyes as he took her. Moving her hands down across his stomach she could feel every muscle until they met his cock as it jutted out and away from his body. Her breath quickened as she imagined what he looked like rising up above her, her magnificent stallion preparing to mount his mare. That she was his wasn't even a question in her mind. Regardless of what that vile captain said or the equally vile but distant Putram Jeevel said or did, he owned her like no one else had or ever would. Not only was it her pleasure to accept him within, it was her duty, her honor. He was her master, her god and she worshiped at his altar, this living manifestation of his love and desire for her. Tugging at him eagerly, now demanding that he slake her terrible need, she pulled the bulbous head of his cock towards her spread and wetly glistening cunt. Following her unsaid command he allowed her to guide until the spongy head of his rod lay flush against her. Then he took control and she reluctantly released her hand as he began to move his hips forward. Slowly, inch by inch he sunk into her until his balls rested on her ass. There was no pain this time; she was very ready, too well prepared. His entrance was that of a knife finding it's fitted sheath, a hand in a glove, they fit together perfectly as they both remained motionless experiencing the exquisite feelings of the mating. But instinct could be denied only so long. Finally he began to move, pulling out a short distance and plunging back in to his full depth. Out a little farther then back in. Again and again, each time the stroke was a little longer, the return a little deeper, until finally he was withdrawing to where just the head remained in her channel before thrusting deep within. Reaching up she grabbed him by the shoulders and drew him down to her, arms rounding behind his back hugging him as tightly as her strength allowed. Her universe narrowed to the thrusting cock servicing her, becoming her entire reason for being. She was alive for only one reason: to match his half of their pair, to receive his seed, to be the moon for his sun. Raising her head up she began biting softly at his neck, then more insistently as her legs lifted to cross behind him. As the heat began building deep inside her again she unlocked her ankles and began driving her heels into his buttocks trying to force him even deeper into her womb. Suddenly it occurred to her -- why it had escaped her attention before she would never know -- but for the first time she realized he was indeed planting a seed in her womb, the result of this copulation could very well be a baby, his baby! The thought that she might carry his child triggered another massive orgasm which in turn triggered his. He thrust in deep and hard, holding himself against her cervix as he shot stream after stream of his thick gooey seed deep into her body. If depth of penetration and sexual fervor determined conception then she had definitely just been made pregnant! He collapsed on top of her. She accepted and relished his full weight, locking her legs around him tightly, holding him immobile with her arms and legs. Nuzzling his head she cooed to him love noises and kisses but no words. When he stirred and tried to lift himself off, she resisted, hugging him even tighter, not allowing him either off or from inside her. Finally he was able to get his arms under her shoulders and in one move rolled over, breaking her leg lock, so that she now lay atop him where his hands could now caress her hair and body. He could feel the sweat dry on her back and the slight shiver through her body. Trying not to disturb her he reached over and grabbed the blanket drawing it over their bodies. She was already asleep; murmuring, she moved her head to lay it on his chest. His hands continued to explore her body from her head down to the silky smoothness of her buttocks until sometime later he too fell asleep. It was near morning when he awoke. On their sides with him flush against her back one arm flung protectively over her, his groin pressed up against her buttocks. Without conscious effort on his part he became excited again; all it took was the feel of her next to him. His erection pressed between her legs but he tried not to move, not wanting to wake her. Oh, very well, he did want to wake her but he felt she needed her sleep more than he needed to slake his lust. He needn't have worried; she was already awake. Reaching down she parted her legs and guided him to her entrance, rubbing the head up and down the already wet slit before pushing him in as far as she was able from that position. When he didn't immediately thrust into her she reached back and grabbed his ass pulling him toward her. That was all it took as he gently pushed forward entering her a little at a time. This was not fevered fucking but a gentle coupling as he moved in and out without haste or vehemence, only just before he came did he increase his speed, driving into her with some force. This time she didn't have the overwhelming orgasm like before but instead she was able to feel the fullness of him inside her, his gentle movements and his shivering body when he finally reached climax. She never wanted to give up the orgasms but in its own way this was just as good, just as rewarding as their more vigorous sex earlier. It was passion without lust, love without need, the slow gentle uniting to two bodies into one. He remained inside her as they rested afterward, fused together until sleep took them again. When next he woke he knew it was truly morning as he heard the two-six bells ring. They were in the same position as earlier that morning cuddled together his chest pressed to her back. Propping himself up on an elbow he looked down at her, beautiful as always, lustrous black hair streaming out to cover the end of their bunk. Bending down he kissed her cheek and she stretched and rolled over onto her back. "Morning, handsome," she whispered as she reached up and pulled him down for a real kiss. When they broke apart she continued, "I never had anyone do to me what you did last night. Thank you." "The pleasure was all mine, my lady," he replied, smiling. "Oh I can guarantee that it wasn't," she replied smirking. "In fact if you got any pleasure at all it was just a bonus as far as I'm concerned. It was wonderful!" "Well I'm glad I could be of service," he said tickling her stomach until she had to roll over giggling. He sat up on the edge of the bunk leaning forward slightly to keep from hitting his head and started to look around for his small clothes. Wiggling her fingers towards the locker Nesho said, "Don't bother with those. Clean clothes are in there. You have two women to take care of you now; I think we can scrounge up enough clean clothes to get you through the day." "I always did have two women looking after me," he said looking back at her. "And don't you forget it!" came a voice from above. Looking up, Dent saw a pair of slim white legs hanging down from the top bunk. Suddenly they twisted around and Sosho was sliding down to the deck on her stomach. Unfortunately the hem of her night shift caught on a protruding peg and while she was halfway down it was still mostly up. The body revealed was slimmer than her mother's but the flare of the hips and the small patch of pubic hair looked surprisingly familiar to Dent. It was the same beauty, and he had to admit, sex appeal, as Nesho's but in a slightly smaller package. "Help me!" she squealed as her feet searched for the bottom bunk. Her shift was now up around her waist moving toward her bosom but there it stopped with her hanging from the top bunk and her bare nether regions hanging down. Sitting up straight Dent got an evil glint in his eye. "Well," he said, "what do you want me to do? Help you up? Help you down? Or just help you off with it all together?" "Oh you'd like that well enough, now wouldn't you?" she hissed. "Well I suppose I would," he teased. "The view's not bad as it is; maybe we should just leave you this way." "Dent!" she squealed again. "Don't you dare!" "Dent..." Nesho said softly. He looked over at her and although she still smiled her raised eyebrows told him everything he needed to know. "Oh very well," he said trying to sound cross. "This being an adult has its disadvantages sometimes," he muttered, not meaning for it to be heard. He reached up and just avoided being smacked in the face by Sosho's flailing knees as he unhooked the pegged hem and let it fall down covering her again. Nesho stood up and put her arm around him, which was somewhat disconcerting as she was still nude. "Yes," she whispered in his ear, "but it has its advantages sometimes, too." Releasing him she walked over to the locker her hips gently swaying. "Ah, yes, I, suppose, it, ah, does," he stammered. "Ha! And you called me a hussy yesterday!" grumped Sosho. Nesho just looked over her shoulder and smiled at her daughter as she slipped on a skirt and buttoned up her blouse. Then huffing like she had just remembered something she turned back to Dent. "Dent," she said, "we never talked about it but would it bother you if you became a father?" Dent's jaw practically hit the floor. "Ah, but you, but we, I mean, ah, you can know?" he stumbled over the words as the idea froze the workings of his brain. "Of course I can't know, dear. We won't be sure for months, but call it a woman's insight, a feeling. Let's just say that at a certain point last night I was sure that your seed had found its mark. Would that upset you?" "No!" he said recovering somewhat. "That would be the most wonderful thing in the world!" Taking the three steps needed he twirled her around and hugged her tightly, then leaning back, he kissed her soundly. After a minute or two of that Nesho pushed him away, grinning. "Stop that now, you silly man!" she said, "I'm glad you approve but it will be months before we really know, and it may be nothing but a woman's vapors. Now finish getting dressed and run off to breakfast and your practice. We can talk about it later if you want, but now shoo!" Grabbing his clean shirt he grinned, kissed her once more, waved to Sosho and departed. "A baby?!" Sosho squeaked once Dent left. "A baby?!" "Yes, well, it could happen, you know," Nesho said as she busied herself getting ready. "But how... ?" Sosho was in shock. "I think we discussed this before back when you started your woman's cycles," Nesho replied calmly. "When a man deposits his seed inside a woman's body it combines with her part and..." "I know all that!" said Sosho testily. "I mean at your age and with, well, him." "Oh I assure you I have seen women much older than I give birth to healthy babies. I am in good health and your birth was very easy. It really shouldn't be a problem." She paused for a moment then continued, "Now as for the closeness of the parents, that could be a concern but I think very little. Although a simple herbalist isn't privy to all the Society's medical knowledge, I can say that closely inbred clans have been studied and the problems did not seem to be as great as it was once thought. Maybe after many generations it would be, but I don't think that's our situation here. Chances are greatest that Dent would sire a perfectly healthy baby by me, or you for that matter." "But... did he... ah, release enough, ah, seed, to really get you pregnant?" Sosho was finding it difficult to find a delicate way to ask her questions now. "Oh my!" said Nesho laughing. "He released enough last night to impregnate every woman on this ship! Our Dent is no meager man when it comes to love, let me tell you! By the time we were done I think I felt it coming out of my ears!" "Mo... Nesho!" Sosho hissed. "You're just bragging now, trying to make me jealous!" "You're right and I'm sorry," she said sighing. "I'm not trying to make you feel jealous but I guess I am bragging. It's just that I'm so happy and so proud that he wants to be with me! I feel giddy as a schoolgirl again, like a bride on her wedding night, except this is better! It is rather uncouth of me to display it all in front of you; I will try to be a little more discreet. But then I noticed I wasn't the only one running around showing my wares this morning." "That was an accident!" Sosho exclaimed, blushing. The next few days passed quickly for Dent. Days of martial practice, evenings in the wardroom reviewing the day down to every last detail and of course nights of pure heavenly love. Amazingly enough it was becoming almost routine. Remarkable what a man can get used to in such a short period of time. The day came for the promised demonstration: a simple one, Dent promised. To begin First and Second Squads would attack from the bow while Third and Fourth defended the stern. Then afterwards the Third and Fourth would attack the bow while First and Second defended. Dent thought it best if he stayed on the pilot bridge with the other officers, explaining the action for the first half, and then leading the defense for the second. Blunted practice weapons were used with a coat of wet red paint on the edge to simulate a wound. This would let them know who lived or died during the mock battle. The rest of the sailors thought this was great fun and a few of the older hands were impressed to serve as judges. Dent knew the sides were uneven, not that he purposely created a situation where Third and Fourth Squads would fail, but he was sure they would. Third Squad had actually made a great deal of improvement, considering the Fourth offered them little or no competition to improve their skills. Against either First or Second they might be able to hold their own, for a while, but against both, supported by Fourth, not a chance. It was not the best of days. The water was choppy, the sky overcast and there were patches of fog on the horizon that threatened to close in at any time. The footing would be treacherous: slippery and unreliable. But you don't wait for perfect weather to fight so Dent was unconcerned; it might be an advantage for the defense but not enough to make a difference. The first battle went fairly consistently as Dent had envisioned. First and Second advanced down the deck one to each side, five pairs each. Dent wanted to position the Fourth in front of the Third to soak up casualties and restrict the full frontal assault from the First and Second that would decimate them. Instead he allowed the two Squad leaders to devise their own plan; never let it be said he didn't allow them a chance! Their plan was to have both squads mutually support each other on a broad front, the Third to port, the Fourth to starboard. Accepting their judgment Dent allowed them to position themselves prior to the attack signal. One long blast of the horn usually reserved for signaling in fog announced the start of the action. Immediately First and Second Squads started aft regulating their pace so as to meet with the other two squads at the same time. For sailors used to seeing their boarding crew running headlong at the enemy swords waving and screaming, it was an eerie sight. Pairs of men, silent except for a muttered instruction or signal to the other squad, padded down the deck toward the jeering defenders. While the Third was attempting to retain their fighting pairs, the Fourth, as Dent had expected, almost immediately broke apart into a undisciplined mob, all ten men facing the oncoming Second as individuals. In a defensive posture the Third waited for the First to initiate contact. It might not have been as bad as it turned out if the Fourth had actually waited for the Second to make contact. After all, as large as the main deck was, it still had limited room for men to maneuver. Given the sheer numbers, the Fourth would have provided each other mutual support, even if unintentionally, if they had remained in one single line. Unfortunately for them that wasn't a man's way to fight. One didn't just wait for the enemy when they were in sight, a man attacked! So as the Second closed, five from the Fourth suddenly broke ranks and rushed the advancing boarders. They met about 20 feet in front of the original defensive line and immediately the wooden sabers began slashing. Almost as soon as it started it was over. As soon as the clash of wood started jagged red lines of paint appeared on the chests, arms and necks of the Fourth's members. The combination of defend/attack pairs quickly mowed them down like they were so much grain before the sickle. One member of the Second was also declared dead by the judges although he complained loudly that he had been struck after his opponent had been killed. His complaint probably had merit but the judge's decision was final so the still-vocal corpse took his place along the rail with the rest of the dearly departed and the battle continued. The nine remaining members of the Second quickly closed with the remnants of the Fourth who were now arranged in a tight ball on the flank on the now engaged Third. Amazingly enough, the Third was able to retain its discipline even after witnessing the slaughter of the Fourth. The two squads met and there ensued a drumbeat of wood on wood as the practice sabers slashed and were deflected. The two teams were fairly evenly matched with the First having the slight edge since they had been able to practice against better opponents. Although one or two from each side fell their battle appeared to be little more than a defensive stalemate and would have probably remained so if it hadn't been for the Fourth. Seeing the quick demise of their fellow squad mates, the surviving members of the Fourth closed ranks and fought side by side. This helped prolong their portion of the battle but only for a relatively short period of time. It was nine against five and those five were fighting for pride and not their lives. It was over shortly. Those five died along with one additional member of the Second leaving the Third's flank completely bare. Almost immediately the Second fell on the unsupported Third with devastating results. Caught from the front and the side the Third was being pressed back into an ever shrinking area. It was obvious to all that the results were already determined; it was just a matter of time. Dent wasn't in a particularly vindictive mood, although he wouldn't have been honest if he didn't admit he felt somewhat redeemed by the ease with which the Fourth was taken out, but there was little value to be gained by continuing the slaughter to the bitter end. He signaled for the foghorn, sounding the end of this match. The ensuing debriefs with an elated First and Second, a somewhat pissed off Third and a rather subdued Fourth were fairly effective if not downright comical. The dead were able to compare mortal injuries, including a great deal of lighthearted, and some not so casual, ribbing from the 'surviving' boarding crew. Captain Vel and the officers not actually on watch remained in the background interjecting very little until it came time to organize the final portion of the demonstration. "Very interesting but I don't see that it reflects neither good nor ill in a true battle." he said loudly enough for everybody near to hear. There was a great deal of agreement from the Third and Fourth squads, especially the Fourth, and some subdued hissing from the First and Second. "The Captain makes an excellent point," Dent replied as he waved for quiet from the ranks. "This wasn't a real battle and..." "Sail Ho!" came the cry from the topside lookout, "Sail Ho!" ------- Chapter 12 "Where away?" bellowed Vel even as he turned and raced for the aft piloting station. Dent raced behind him as they passed startled looking sailors, up the ladder bursting onto the piloting bridge. The second mate was positioned at the starboard railing peering through a farseeing glass at the horizon beyond the Pinya. Striding up to him the Captain grunted and the mate handed him the glass without comment pointing in the direction he had been looking. Vel put the glass to his eye and peered in the same direction. Looking, Dent could see the Pinya off on their starboard beam. Beyond it a ship -- or at this distance a set of sails-- could be seen coming out of a fog bank some three to four miles beyond. Details were sketchy to the unaided and untrained eye but Dent felt confident the rigging of this mystery vessel resembled that of the Death Grip more so than the Pinya. Already he could see the Pinya's bow as the smaller ship turned to port toward the Death Grip. "Malshall, I make it," the Captain stated to no one in particular. "Aye," concurred the second mate. "Frigate size, maybe a little larger; not a brig or a corsair I think." "Thank our luck for that!" Vel replied. "Hmm, there were only two Malshallian frigates in these waters last I heard, Vengeance Mine and Thin Blade. Aye, well let's see just who we have to play with then. Helm! steer right, two points starboard!" he shouted. Dent swiveled his head to see the helmsman turning the great wheel in the center of the bridge. The Second Mate moved to the forward railing and shouted down to the main deck. His call was answered both on the deck and by sailors already scrambling in the upper reaches of the rigging. "Ring Battle Quarters, Second," Captain Vel continued in a remarkably calm voice. Dent had expected him to become, what he wasn't sure, enraged, agitated, furious? But nothing of the kind happened. If anything he became calmer and more professional with each passing moment. "Well, Warrior, it would appear that you be earning your keep quicker than expected," Vel said as he turned toward Dent. The ship's bell began to ring in a cadence unfamiliar to the young warrior but at its sound the ship's crew seemed to explode into action. There was a sound of pounding feet, closing hatches and opening lockers. "Second!" Vel shouted over the general clamor. "Aye, Captain?" "Signal the Pinya. I want them to pass astern. Tell them we're coming right. I want them to take station one thousand yards off our port beam." "Aye, Captain. Pinya pass astern, take station one thousand yards port beam." "Very well, Second, make it so," he said while turning back to Dent. "Soon as officers muster here we decide how we'll fight this ship." It didn't take more than a few minutes for the Pilot, Bo'sun and the Third Mate to muster on the bridge, each reporting his position as ready for battle. While this was going on Dent made his way to the forward rail and looked over at main deck. The four boarding party squads were formed up in the same positions they assumed for practice with the exception being each man had a sharp and shiney weapon instead of the usual wooden practice ones. He noticed that the other sailors on deck were also armed, each one ready to fight for his ship and his life. "Boarding parties appear to be ready, Captain," Dent said moving back over to the grouped officers. "Aye they better be, Armsman," he said then turned his attention back to the whole group. "There is a Malshallian frigate six thousand yards off the starboard beam, and like as not they'll be wanting to take back our prize from us. Now we could run." He paused as if waiting for some response; when none came he continued, "But we ain't gonna do that. We're positioning the Grip 'tween them and the Pinya. Nobody's going take our prize without us having a say so. Any discussion on the matter?" Some just squinted and grinned a little; others let their hands caress the hilt of their swords sheathed in their belt. "Sir," Dent broke the silence. "Aye, Armsman?" Vel said a little dangerously. "Request permission to retrieve my armor. Then I'd like to take station with the boarding squads on the main deck." "Oh aye, Armsman," he said relaxing slightly. "You do that and in a bit I'll be down there myself. Some tactics I'll want to talk to you about." "Very well, Sir. By your leave?" Saluting like he had been dismissed from a formation at the academy he turned and quickly walked to the ladder and started down. "Do ya think he'll turn on us, Captain?" the Bo'sun asked. "He was heading for Malshall, after all." "Can't say as I think he will, Boats," the Captain said stroking his beard. "But best you keep an eye on him nonetheless. Off with you now. Maybe we can just worry them away from the Pinya, but I think it best if we assume it's coming to a fight." With that the group broke up and each officer hurried back to his station. Walking quickly to the center of the main deck, Dent signaled for each of the four squad leaders to meet with him. Explaining the situation, he told them to prepare to repel boarders which meant breaking out pikes as well as the already-issued cutlasses. Saying the Captain would be down shortly and that he was going to arm himself with his personnel weapons, taking his leave, he swiftly made his way forward to his compartment. Entering, he found both Nesho and Sosho waiting, fear evident in their eyes. "I don't have time to explain everything," he said stripping off his tunic and reaching for his woolen underpad. "There is another ship out there, Malshallian, and it looks like they will try to board us." "Then we'll be saved!" cried Sosho. Dent hesitated for a moment. "Maybe," he said slowly, "but I wouldn't count on it. From what I understand, Malshall is almost as heavily into the slave trade as Jeevel and we're not Malshallian citizens. I suppose it's possible they may set you free, but somehow I doubt it. At least it is something to hope for if we're taken." "Then why are you putting your armor on?" asked Nesho. "Wouldn't it be better to take a chance on the unknown? As it is, we know we're to be slaves; with them it's only maybe." "True," Dent admitted. "If it comes to that try to surrender yourselves, although I have a plan for when we get to Jeevel," he sighed. "But do what you think is best. I have to fight for this ship. I'm under contract and anything less is instant death no matter who wins. Even if the Malshallians take us, I would be instantly executed if I didn't fight." "Oh Dent!" she cried and ran to hug him. "I can't let you go out there." "We have no choice, my love," he said kissing her softly. Pushing her back gently he completed securing the armor plate and arranging his dirk and sword. "There, now you two stay here. This should be the safest place on the ship for now." "No!" said Nesho standing up straight. "I'll go to the sickbay, if there is fighting, there will be casualties that need assistance. Sosho, you stay here." Looking at the both of them Dent just nodded. Then as an afterthought he reached in the locker and pulled out a small but wickedly shaped knife. Handing it to Sosho he said, "Hide this near you, but not on you. Use it if you have to. Nesho, there should be plenty of knives in the sickbay; make sure you have one handy at all times. Now give me a kiss, I must be going." Nesho was closest so she got to him first giving him a fierce almost savage kiss that nearly knocked him down. When she finally broke away, Sosho was there placing her hands on his cheeks and drawing him to her in a much more gentle but definitely un-cousinly kiss. "Take care love. Come back to us," whispered Nesho as he nodded again and quickly left the compartment. Gathering her healing supplies Nesho hugged her daughter and also left. Making her way slowly to the bunk Sosho hid the knife under the mattress, sat down and started to cry. Little had changed when Dent returned to the main deck. The four squad leaders were gathered amidships with the Captain. Dent strode over to join them. "Ah, Armsman!" Captain Vel said as Dent walked up. "We were just discussing what our tactics might be if we were boarded. Maybe you could give us the benefit of your vast knowledge." "How many boarders would they probably have?" Dent asked ignoring the Captain's sarcasm. "Well that's the question isn't it?" he replied looking at the slowly closing vessel. "The Second seems to think it's the Vengeance coming on. Now last I heard she's carrying sixty fighters and forty other crew, but I also hear she's taken one, maybe two prizes herself. Maybe she's down on crew and then again maybe not." "So worst case would be sixty, maybe more if they strip some of their regular crew to send over." Watching the other ship approach, it was now less than a mile away and he could begin to make out the boarding fenders and grappling hook catapults on the main deck. Behind the catapults he could see men massed, the twinkling of steel in the sunlight as it reflected off their weapons. From this distance he could just make out the light blue of their uniform shirts, that if nothing else telling of their regular naval status as opposed to the completely indiscriminate clothing the privateers chose to wear. "Would you expect them to board amidships?" he asked Vel. "Aye, if they can lay alongside, that's where they'll come." "And what's the normal practice? Mass our men against theirs and fight it out there in the center of the main deck?" "Aye, how else?" "Here's what I'd like to do," Dent said and started to point to various positions on the main deck. "The Fourth amidships, Third to their right, Second to their left. The First will be with me back and under the bridge overhang." "But ten men can't stop forty to sixty men!" he cried. "I might as well give them the ship!" "But it won't be just ten. All they have to do is slow them down, you hear that, Macal?" The Fourth's squad leader grimaced but nodded his head. "If the Fourth can slow them down the Second and the Third can flank them, press them from the side. They won't have the room to work, we will. We should be able to contain and possibly even crush their attack right here on the main deck." "And you and your men will be doing what? Sitting back watching while everyone else gets hacked to pieces?" "Yes, for awhile, we will be the reserve," then he grinned at the large Captain. "Until they have fully committed themselves that is. Then here is what I want to do..." Pointing again he explained what he had in mind. The First's squad leader turned very pale as the plan unfolded. "Audacious," Vel grumbled, "or maybe just insane." Suddenly he laughed and slapped Dent on the back hard enough to rattle his teeth. "If you can pull this off, we may just have another prize to show for this trip. Of course if you don't, you'll probably be dead." Looking over at the First's squad leader he said, "Double shares to any who follow the Armsman. If there are those who don't want to go, let them trade amongst the others." "Double share? " the First's squad leader's jaw dropped open and his eyes went wide. "Oh aye, Captain. I'll ask but I be thinking nobody be wanting to stay behind with double share on the deck!" "I'm thinking that also," Vel chuckled. Turning back to Dent he continued, "I'm guessing another bell, maybe two before they're in position to send the hooks, if they're going to do it. Get yer men ready, Armsman!" Briefly outlining to the First's squad leader what he wanted done, Dent sent him off and rounded on the remaining three. "Now," he said, "let's get set up down here." It took much longer than the estimated two bells before the two ships were in a position where a clash was inevitable. The Vengeance Mine didn't press the attack until it became obvious that Vel had no intention of allowing Pinya to be recaptured without a struggle. Finally the two ships sailed close together, beam to beam, with each crew shouting obscenities and insults at the other over the twenty yards that separated them. With little warning three grappling hooks shot out of their catapults and arched towards the Grip's deck. One caught in the rigging and was quickly cut free and hauled to the side where it was thrown overboard. Another became tangled over the side railing and was pulled taut by the crew on the other ship. The third smashed into and through the deck also being drawn taut by long lines of men on the enemy vessel. More hooks followed the first three until at least five lines connected the two ships. Closer they came until they collided together almost directly amidships. Malshallian marines swarmed over the side pushing back the Fourth Squad but were unable to close with them due to the extra reach the pikes and halberds gave the defenders. Dent estimated that there must be somewhere around fifty Malshallians involved in the boarding. He was pleased and surprised to see the stiff resistance the Fourth was able to offer. Almost as an aside he could see they were at least trying to use the fighting tactics they had been working on for the past week. The Malshallians continued to pour over the side. About fifteen to twenty were involved with trying to push back the Fourth who were holding their own admirably although retreating under the constant pressure. Bodies were beginning to litter the deck; most, Dent was pleased to note, wearing blue. The movement of men from the frigate to the Grip slowed and finally halted. Maybe sixty had boarded as the Second and Third squads suddenly smashed into the unprotected flanks of the boarders. Although they enjoyed an almost two to one numerical superiority, the Malshallian marines were packed so tightly together they were unable to bring their superior numbers to bear at any one point. Grimly Dent noted for future reference the mistake the Malshallians made in boarding at only one single point. It was becoming a real brawl with the outcome far from certain. Every once in a while one of the Grip's crew would fall quickly to be replaced by one of the common deck hands. Untrained as they were Dent couldn't find fault with their courage or ferocity as they tore into the enemy with whatever they had at hand. "Now," Dent said turning to the First's squad leader. Without waiting for a response he started climbing the ladder to the pilot bridge as fast as possible. Once on the bridge he looked over to the other ship. The frigate's bridge was also set on the top of a deckhouse, slightly lower that the Grip's. The curve of both ships left a gap of some twenty to twenty-five feet between the two with nothing but choppy ocean below. On the other bridge Dent could see four men, the helmsman, two common seamen and one man in splendid blue and scarlet, obviously the captain. "Here's where we earn that double share," he shouted as the squad members followed up and onto the bridge deck. Sheathing his sword, he grabbed a line hanging down from the rigging next to the rail. Turning, he ran to the other side of the ship, turned again with the line still in his hands, sprinted back towards the rail where at the last second he leapt to the top and cast himself off and over the side. He fell a few feet until the line became taut, his momentum carrying him in a lazy arc almost to the side of the enemy vessel. Not waiting until his flight slowed, he released the line falling the last few feet, landing and rolling on the enemy's bridge. Catlike, he sprang to his feet sword and dirk coming free almost instantly. Spinning, his first slash bit into the neck of the seaman standing next to him. The sailor was so surprised that his hand barely had time to reach for the sword sheathed at his side let alone start to free it. Continuing his spin Dent jabbed with his dirk even as he wrenched his sword free from the vertebrae it had become lodged in. The second seaman was either more attentive or just quicker; he had been able to nearly unsheathe his cutlass before the dirk pierced his wrist, continued on through his breastbone and into his heart. The dirk was now firmly lodged in a bone sheath. Dent didn't even try to extract it, releasing the hilt, the man still carrying Dent's dirk slid bonelessly to the deck. Turning, Dent saw the helmsman, eyes wide and glassy with fright, backing away from the wheel fumbling with the sword at his side. Recognizing this was no immediate threat, his attention turned to the gaudily dressed captain. The man was rather short, of middle age with a finely trimmed beard, oiled hair and glittering jewelry on every finger and ear. A noble, Dent realized, not a warrior. The noble had time to retrieve his own sword, a gleaming steel piece with gilded hand guard and jeweled hilt, nothing like the functional killer Dent held in his own hand. The Captain had moved to the rail overlooking the main deck and was screaming down at the men milling around there. Pointing his sword at the noble Dent yelled, "Surrender!" Suddenly rage filled the Malshallian's face and he charged Dent, his saber held high. Deflecting the slashing saber with a flick of his wrist Dent brought the hilt of his sword up and into the chin of the charging noble. With the sound of crunching bone, the captain's eyes rolled up in his head and his body crashed to the deck like a puppet with cut strings. Looking over at the helmsman, the terrified sailor threw down his cutlass and fell to his knees with his hands stretched up to sky. Dent heard the thump of bodies hitting the wooden deck behind him and he turned to see three First Squad members picking themselves up and unlimbering their weapons. Pointing, Dent motioned for the closest to guard the ladder. He grinned and giving a mock salute ambled over just in time to kick the head of a Malshallian sailor poking up above the deck line. From the loud crash and cursing, the falling one must have taken a few of his compatriots with him to the deck below. "Bind this one," Dent gestured to the noble lying unconscious at his feet. Looking up he saw one of Grip's boarders raising his cutlass to dispatch the quivering helmsman. "Stop!" he shouted running over to the two men. Placing his hand on the upraised arm he said, "We don't kill prisoners. Bind his hands but leave him be." The sailor shrugged and said, "The Captain won't like it, but on yer head be it, Armsman." Using the cord that held the helmsman's sheath he bent to tie the man's hands behind his back, leaving him lying there on the deck. By now nine of the First's members were on the enemy's bridge with him. Looking over at the Grip he saw the remaining squad member look down at the whitecaped water separating the two vessels, shake his head and leave the bridge, hopefully for the fight below. Running to the rail overlooking the main deck Dent looked over and saw three sailors at the foot of the ladder, one lying on top of another and the third looking down at the two on the deck. Waving with his sword to the First's members, he vaulted over the rail to the deck below. As much as he would like to think of himself a light on his feet, hitting the deck felt like he had just run into a brick wall. His feet hurt and his knees felt like someone had been beating on them with a practice baton. Ignoring the pain as best he could he quickly closed on the standing sailor who had been turning around at the sound of his landing. One quick thrust through the stomach, a pause to make sure he fell, and Dent whirled around to face the main deck. He could hear the thumps as his men jumped the last few feet from the bottom of the ladder. The main deck of their enemy's ship was surprisingly devoid of life. He could see, four, no five sailors, tending the secured ends of the boarding planks, but no marines were in sight. The Malshallians must have felt very secure and confident of their victory, sending all their fighters over while leaving their own deck virtually undefended. The feral grin that spread across Dent's face would not have pleased the Malshallians if they had been present to see it, but as he turned his head and gestured to his crew they returned it with a like ferocity. Pointing to the closed hatch behind them, one of the squad sheathed his sword, picked up a mop conveniently standing in a holder next to the hatch and jammed the handle through the latch, effectively sealing it. "You, you, and you," he said pointing to the three with his sword. "Seal the rest of the hatches if you can. If not, try to see that nobody else gets up on deck." Sketching salutes with their own weapons, they took off at a trot along the outboard side of the Malshallian ship. The remaining six followed Dent as he started forward along the inboard side. Moving swiftly, but quietly, they came to within ten feet of the grouped sailors before one of them saw their motion and turned to look. Eyes suddenly very round, the sailor shouted an oath and stumbled backward fumbling for the cutlass at his side. The other four turned at the shout and also began to scramble for their weapons. Quick as a striking snake Dent and his men were on them. With the element of surprise in their favor and the ferocity of men in a battle rage, the five sailors were cut down practically before they could free the swords from their sheath. Signing for them to drag the bodies out of the way, he hurried over to the two boarding planks connecting the vessels. "Cut that one free," he shouted pointing to the board furthest forward. "Drag it back over here." Two of the First started slashing at the line securing the board, quickly cutting through and leaving the board balanced across the two railings. Two more moved to help them pull the large plank back until it clattered to the deck beside them. There was now only one avenue to cross back and forth between the two ships. Gathering his men together Dent jumped up onto the board and looked over to the Death Grip's main deck. He was pleased to see that, although outnumbered two to one, the remaining three squads were doing a reasonable job of holding their own against the invaders. In the center the Fourth was under the most intense pressure and he could see a number of them had already fallen. Without reinforcements their situation would soon become precarious if not deadly. Dent intended to remedy that situation very shortly. Turning back he shouted to his group, "Someone see if you can find a few pikes, or halberds. We're going to hold this plank. We can't let them back aboard!" "But don't yer want them off the Grip?" one of the First asked, puzzled. "Sooner or later, yes," he answered. "Right now I want them to think they're trapped." Turning around again he looked to the Grip's bridge looking for Captain Vel. Unable to find him on the bridge he began looking along the main deck. Sure enough, he saw the huge red-headed man in the thick of fighting, his sword rising and falling as he bellowed orders to nearby crew. Damn the hands on commander, Dent thought. This was going to be more difficult than I thought. Grabbing a line for balance he began waving his sword and yelling as if to catch the attention of someone on the Grip. "Captain!" he shouted, "We have the ship! Captain! We've taken the ship!" Over and over he shouted trying to be heard through the din of battle. "Captain ain't never gonna hear him over all that noise," said one First member to his mate. "He ain't trying to get the Captain to hear 'im, idiot!" his mate replied. "He wants dem to hear 'em." Saying this he pointed to the milling Malshallian marines on the Grip's deck. "Why would he 'em to hear 'im?" asked the first. "Because, ye fool, if day tink day be trapped and der ship taken, do ye tink they want to be fighting over there or here?" "Ah, I see! Yes I does," looking around he continued, "Then I guess we gonna be busy here pretty quick." "Aye, pretty busy," his partner agreed. About that time one of the Malshallian marines near the back turned at the sound of Dent's voice and began tapping fellow marines on the shoulder, pointing to Dent and talking quickly. A group of about ten broke from the pack and headed back toward the boarding plank. As they approached the plank, it became obvious that no matter how many might want to get back aboard their vessel, there was room for only for one or two at a time on the plank. Jumping from one ship to the other next to the plank was an option but by now a majority of the First squad was stationed next to the end of the plank making the leap more than a little hazardous. The first marine to reach the boarding plank barely hesitated before jumping up and striding out. Seeing the obvious youth in front of him, his face split into a wide grin. Something troubled him, somewhere in the back of his mind anyway. Maybe it was the utilitarian armor the youth wore, or maybe the casual manner in which he gripped his slightly raised sword. Then there was the look on the youth's face: anticipation but certainly no fear. Regardless, the grizzled veteran buried these thoughts anticipating a quick and easy kill. Raising his sword for an overhand slash, he charged the boy intending to either cut him down or knock him out of the way. Overconfidence is a wonderful thing in your opponent, Dent thought. As the larger man lumbered forward, Dent quickly snapped out his sword lightly caressing the marine's sword arm as he tried to bring it up to its full height. The razor sharp blade cut tendon, blood vessels and muscle down to the bone even before the hapless foe knew he was being attacked. Continuing with its stroke the blade left the wounded arm and sliced into the man's face puncturing one eye, severing the nose and slicing off a good portion of the cheek. The damage was severe but not mortal. Nether was the fall as the man slipped and hit the broiling water between the two ships. The fact that the marine was wearing heavy plate armor and couldn't swim was; he soon disappeared below the waves. The sight of their former shipmate being so easily and quickly dispatched caused the remaining marines to hesitate momentarily. Two climbed onto the plank and cautiously moved forward. Another decided to try to leap between the two ships and was even able to grab onto the railing before one of the Dent's squad members casually stuck a sword through his neck sending him down to his mate's fate. With these more deliberate opponents Dent retreated to the end of the boarding plank and waited for their advance. There was still only room for one at a time to engage him, but there was also very little room to maneuver. While he was reasonably able to contain the other's slashing blows, he could feel the pressure to retreat; not a good option since it wouldn't take long for the Malshallian troops to overwhelm the Grip's fighters if they were allowed unfettered access to the Vengeance's deck. He would dispatch one but his place was immediately filled by the increasing mass of Malshallian troops behind. In fact more and more were lining the Grip's railing as it became evident that there were enemies both ahead and behind. To the cold and calculating it might seem that the crushing of the Grip's crew on their own deck would be the first priority; seemingly that was where the principal danger lay. But try telling that to a soldier who now finds the enemy has magically appeared behind and taken your supposed place of safety. Human nature dictated that no few of them would turn and try to secure their home even while being pressed by forces in their front. Good for the Grip's fighters, bad for Dent and his crew. Panic began to settle in throughout the Malshallian forces. With fewer to fight, the Grip's crew pressed even harder, pushing the invading force back toward their own ship until they were so tightly packed together there wasn't even room to swing a sword. At that time the battle became a slaughter. While panic is a good thing to have in one's enemy, being in front of a stampeding herd is not. Malshallian troops began to press across the boarding plank heedless of the waiting swordsman or the pike of his squad. Many slipped or were pushed to their death while crossing but enough made it that Dent was finally swept from his feet and buried under a pile of enemy bodies. Watching from his post forward, Seaman Garth nudged his companion pointing to the fighting on the Malshallian vessel. "Guess that the last we'll see of that bastard, eh?" "Meby. Can't see fer shit though," his partner squinted. "This be over, I tell ya, and that pussies a deader!" Then he laughed. "But I tell ya what pussy ain't dead yet and if we be quick we can get 'em before the rest of these shits get a chance." "Leave post during battle?" his mate exclaimed. "The Captain 'ell have ye over the side fer that!" "Shit, ain't nobody ta know, not with this mess going on. Are ye with me?" "Not I! Ye can mark yer own death warrant if ye will, but not I!" "Then ye can jest take turns with the rest." With that he turned making his way down to the main deck and the forward hatch leading to the berthing compartments. ------- Chapter 13 The sounds of battle were muted but still terrifying, much more so than when the Pinya was taken. Sosho sat on the edge of the lower bunk her hands nervously clenched together. Feeling alone and vulnerable she wondered if she should go down to sickbay and see if her mother needed help. Not that she knew much about fixing battle wounds, but then neither did Nesho for that matter, at least she wouldn't be alone then. No, she thought, Dent wanted her to stay here so here she'd stay. Thinking of Dent her hand involuntarily strayed to the little knife she placed under the mattress, caressing the tiny handle as if she could feel her cousin through it. Suddenly the curtain swept back and Seaman Garth stepped into the tiny enclosure. "Well what do we have here?" he sneered. "Down here all alone? Maybe ye be wanting some company, eh?" "My master set me here to watch his things," she said with as much snootiness as she could muster. The big man scared her but she knew he was afraid of Dent in the way only a bully could be afraid of someone more powerful than himself. "He does not want anyone in here while he's not around, please leave." "Oh I'm not here fer he's little trinkets," he said then quickly reaching out grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her up out of the bunk. When he'd entered the room her hand curled around the tiny knife and it was still in her hand as she was pulled to her feet. "Well maybe just one," he laughed. "My master will kill you if you touch me!" she hissed. "Yer little pussy master is a deader cunt," he snarled pulling her towards him. "I saw 'im go down meself." "NOOOO!" she screamed and brought the knife around and directly into his stomach. The little knife was incredibly sharp and cut a two-inch deep gash in Garths belly with ease. Unfortunately Garth was incredibly fat; at two inches the blade barely scraped his abdominal muscles. Bellowing with pain he whipped his hand around smacking the girl in the side of the head propelling her into the lockers and then to the deck in a dazed heap. "Bitch!" he screamed. Holding one hand over his wound he took a step towards her, murder in his eyes. "Here now, what's be going on?" From behind Garth another seaman stepped into the small room and look around. "The Armsman's slave be wanting this other slave down in sickbay to be helping with the wounded. Just what would ye be doing here Garth?" "None of yer fucking business! This bitch just cut me! I'm going to kill the little cunt!" "Not just yet yer not. Slave, is Garth telling truth, did ye cut him?" Still reeling from the blow Sosho slowly pulled herself to her feet. "My master... protect..." she mumbled. "Well be that as it may, it's not fer me to decide. Both of ye up to the main deck. The fighting be done and it's the Captain who'll be hearing this." Grabbing Sosho's arm he lead her out of the compartment. Dent regained consciousness slowly. He had difficulty breathing which puzzled him for a moment until he realized there was a great deal of weight pressing down on his chest. Moving deliberately he pushed two bodies aside and sat up instinctively reaching for his sword as he looked around. A couple of yards away one of his boarding crew was methodically stripping the armor and weapons from a Malshallian body. His movement caused the crewman to jump until he saw who had caused it. "Ah there ye are, Armsman!" he chuckled. "We was wondering where ye ran off too. Got a bit interesting there for a while and we kind of lost track of ye." Ambling over he helped the still dazed Dent to his feet. "There now, well ye seem to be all in one piece but by the gods yer a mess! The deck here is secure and a few of the boys be rooting out the rest of these Malshallian scum from below decks. Don't seem to be many left, so can't see as it be much of a problem. Ye might want to report to the Captain back on the Grip. I be certain he be wondering where ye got off to himself." The sailor bent down, picked up Dent's sword and handed it to him hilt first. Dent took it and without much thought wiped it clean of blood and slipped it into its sheath. His head was clearing rapidly but his legs still felt wobbly as he stood and faced the Grip over the gunwale. He could see the main deck clearly; the fighting indeed seemed to have stopped. Grip sailors were busy cleaning up the debris from battle while others were lining up prisoners and stripping them of their gear. At least they aren't killing them out of hand, he thought. Pulling himself up and onto the boarding plank he carefully made his way across and onto the Grip. There was a large crowd gathered at the base of the main mast and thinking that would be the best place to start looking for the captain he headed there. Striding by a line of prisoners on their knees with hands tied behind their backs and their guards Dent noticed the wide-eyed looks from both as they recognized him. "Great Gods, it's alive!" came the raspy exclamation from one of the prisoners. "No, it's a gods be-damned ghost!" said another. Even the Grip sailors took a step back, and one made a sign to ward off evil. Wondering what the commotion was about Dent glanced down and suddenly realized the apparition he must be. Literally every inch of his body that he could see was completely covered with blood! Enough that it was still dripping off the edges of his breastplate as he walked along, he was convinced that if he turned around to look there would be a set of bloody footprints leading back to the Vengeance's deck. The two corpses that been lying on top of him must have drained every drop of their blood on him while he was out. Fuming that cleaning his gear was going to be a royal bitch, he continued on to the main mast. As he approached someone in the back must have seen or heard him because as he came close the crowd parted allowing him clear passage to the center. When he got there he stopped in stupefied amazement. Nesho was off to one side being held by two sailors, a gag over her mouth while Sosho was tied to the mast. Her blouse had been torn off, her bare back exposed as her flattened breasts pressed up against the wooden shaft. Vel was standing back some ten paces with Garth by his side while the Third Mate was uncoiling a whip, obviously preparing to administer a lashing to the helpless Sosho. "What's going on here, Captain?" he forced out through gritted teeth. "Ship's discipline, Armsman. Nothing to concern you," Vel retorted. Pointing at the bound girl Dent said, "My property, my concern." "And I say it isn't! This is my ship and my law!" In an instant Dent's sword was in his hand and he was in a fighter's crouch moving toward the Captain in mincing, shifting steps the speed of his advance masked by the unusual motion. "By the Code and the articles you signed I say it is!" Dent hissed. When he got to within five paces of the captain, Vel held up both his hands palm out. "Hold Armsman, we need not be rash here. Before you start talking about the Code or any such thing you should hear what this matter is about." "That's all I was asking, Vel. It's you that said it didn't concern me." "Ah well maybe I did at that. Do you agree to disarm and listen?" "I agree to listen," he replied sheathing his sword in one smooth motion. "T'is a start. Very well. The short of it is your younger slave cut Seaman Garth. By the laws of this ship she has been sentenced to twenty lashes. If it had been mortal or more serious than a small cut it would have been death. I can not allow fighting on this ship and especially from a slave." "Why did she do it?" "It matters not." "I think it does. Did you even ask her?" "As I said, it matters not. I don't allow slaves to speak before the mast, regardless." "Again, I think it does. Where and when did this happen?" "Ah, your quarters, near the end of the battle." "And did you happen to ask this fat piece of shit what he was doing in my quarters during the battle? His station was on the fo'csle if I remember correctly." "Well, no. We would be getting to that after we take care of the cutting." Vel started to look a bit uncomfortable, realizing his rush to judgment may have been a little premature. Turning toward the fat seaman Vel asked, "Garth, just what were you doing in the Armsman's quarters?" "Captain!" Garths face was white as the mainsail. "Don't listen to him! He's dead I say! I saw him die! This is some unnatural spirit!" "Spirit, natural or unnatural, matters not. You haven't answered the question as of yet. Why were you in his quarters?" Garth just stared at Dent and remained silent. "Struck dumb, Garth?" Vel growled. "Mayhap there is a better way to find the truth. Fisher! Fisher, come forward!" The crowd parted again and a small man stepped out into the open. "Y-Yes Captain?" he stuttered. "Fisher, did you man the rail with Garth today?" "Aye, Captain." "Did Garth leave his post?" "Aye, Captain." "When?" "Jest after we seen the Armsman go down on that there ship." "Did he say where he was going?" "Aye. He said the Armsman was a deader and he was going to get his pussy before the rest of the crew." There was considerable muttering that continued to escalate during the conversation. Leaving post during a watch or battle was serious enough, but to do so with the intent of purloining a shipmate's property, even a dead one, well that was as low as you could go. "Thief, thief!" was heard in the mutterings and grumbles. Given the tight quarters on board any ship many vices were tolerated but thievery never was. A thief might as well jump overboard holding a rock; at least his end would be relatively quick and painless. All eyes swiveled toward the fat sailor. "Captain," interjected Dent. "May I see the knife my slave used to cut this thief?" "Aye," Vel pulled out the small knife that Dent had given Sosho before the battle. "I thought so," he said. "That is my knife, I gave it to her and ordered her to use it to protect my property. Since she must obey me, if anyone is to blame it is me. If anyone should be lashed for stopping the thief then it should be me." "Hmm, you may have a point Armsman," Vel rubbed his beard thinking. "Aye, it is partly your fault given your orders to the slave but I cannot allow her to receive nothing. Here is my decree: each one of you will receive ten lashes for the cutting." Realizing this was the best compromise he was going to get, at least it cut Sosho's lashes in half. "Alright Mr. Perth, ye may proceed." "No," Dent again interrupted. "What now, Armsman?" "As owner I have the right to discipline my own slaves. It is my hand that will yield the whip. Afterwards you may have anyone you wish use it on me." "Aye, true, it is your right. Very well have at it, but be warned if I don't think you're hitting her hard enough I'll have Perth start again and finish it." Nodding curtly Dent strode over to the bound Sosho and bent down to whisper in her ear. "Be brave, my little cousin, this is going to hurt but you will live through it. Please don't hate me too much. Believe me when I say I will feel every bite of this whip as it hits you, if not on my back then in my heart. I am going to take the gag out of your mouth and I want you to scream as loud as you can when I hit you. Know above all else that I do love you." He could hear her as she cried through the gag in her mouth and he could see the tears streaming down her cheek from tightly shut eyes. He loosened the rag gagging her and suddenly everyone present could hear her loud sobbing. "Why did you do that?" Vel asked. "You sentenced her, you listen to her. You want pain? I'm just giving it to you." Vel just shrugged his shoulders. Walking back he held out his hand and Perth gave him the whip handle first. "Do you know how to use it?" the slight man asked. "I do." While the whip was almost never used for discipline at his old school, a whip is a weapon and the students were required to become familiar with all known weapons. "I don't know," Perth returned. "That back of hers is too smooth to have ever known the whip." "Of course she hasn't been whipped," Dent retorted. "We aren't barbarians where I come from." "Hey there, now! Ain't no call for that." Perth gave him a nasty smirk. "Just you remember who's going to be giving ye yer lashes after yer done here." "Oh I'll remember all right. Just you remember it's rather unlikely you will be able to kill me with just ten lashes and you can be assured I'll remember every one of them and the one who gave them to me. "Now back away," he snarled. The outside world seemed to recede and blur as Dent concentrated on the whip and his cousin's back. His gut felt like it had been jabbed by a hot poker. He was familiar with fear but never before had it impacted him to this extent. Even during his last two real battles fear had been present but never as palpable or as gnawing as it was now. Intellectually he knew he was doing the right thing. He could at least try to control the whip; he wouldn't be trying to impart lasting damage. He was certain that with very few exceptions every sailor on this ship would do their best to give as much pain as was humanly possible to anyone given over into their hands. Why? As the captain said, it matters not. Maybe they were cruel by nature, maybe it's just the culture they found themselves in, and of course a lot would have to do with greed and envy. But it matters not because the fact is they would and Dent had to protect Sosho as much as he possibly could, even if it meant he had to be the one giving her the pain. The whip in his hand was a ten-foot length of braided cord, the last three feet being a thin strip of rawhide leather. It was a particularly vicious little device, designed more to open and flay skin than to cause pain. Oh it certainly would cause pain but only as a secondary result of the damage and disfigurement that was its primary purpose. The balance here was delicate. He needed her to cry out in pain but he didn't want any lasting damage. Ungagged Sosho's natural fright and emotional state would probably result in earsplitting screams even if he only lightly tapped her with a scarf. He knew he needed to hit her hard enough to raise a welt, but not enough to cut the skin leaving a scar. It would have been best if he had a few practice swings but he knew it would be torture for her to hear the crack of the whip and have to wait for it to fall. Without waiting he flicked the whip sending his arm forward and down. The tip hissed through the air and cracked against her bare back. The scream she released was true perfection. If you didn't know she was being whipped you would have sworn she was being impaled on a burning stake. A long red welt was clearly visible across the smooth white of her skin. Ten times he sent that vicious little rawhide tip toward his cousin's back and ten times bloodcurdling shrieks answered the meaty crack as it landed. Every hit, every scream bit into his soul like a knife. Only the knowledge that someone else would probably do irreparable damage allowed him to continue at all. After the last strike Dent dropped the whip to the deck and rushed over to the sobbing Sosho. Not waiting to untie the knots he reached for a knife but realized he didn't have one; he must have dropped Sosho's knife somewhere. Instead he took out his sword, quickly slashed her bindings and she fell bonelessly back into his arms. With a flip of his head he motioned Nesho over, the two sailors holding her let go and she ran to help support her daughter. "Are you all right?" she whispered to him after clawing the gag out of her mouth. Then she slipped Sosho's arm over her shoulder. "I'm fine," he said still holding up the sobbing girl until Nesho could get a firm grip. "You had better get her down to our berth and get something on her back though." "But Dent, you're covered, the blood..." "Don't worry, it's not mine. Now get her down below. Neither one of you needs to see what's coming next." "Are they really going to give you ten lashes, too?" She glanced over at the Third Mate who had picked up the whip and was casually flicking it at a barrel sitting by the railing. "Yes, but don't worry. I'm sure it'll hurt but it can't be any worse than some of the melees they put us through back at the academy. Just get her down below and I'll be down as soon as I can." Nesho nodded and helped the stumbling girl out of the crowd toward the bow and their berth. As he watched them go the crowd silently melted before them, closing in again behind leaving Dent alone next to the mast. Turning, he strode back to Captain Vel. "How do you want to do this?" he asked. Vel pointed to the mast and Dent walked over trying to undo the bindings on his blood-soaked armor. The leather binding straps were soaked along with everything else and with the blood starting to dry it was almost impossible to untie them. Standing next to the mast he noticed one of the sailors from the Vengeance boarding party. Sticking his hand out he said "knife" and the sailor handed his over hilt first. Cutting the bindings he let the armor drop to the deck. Giving the knife back to it's owner, he continued to strip off the ruined under padding, throwing it on top of the bloody plate. Now stripped to the waist Dent faced the mast and placed both hands on the rough wood. "Ready," he said looking back over his shoulder. "Ye want a bit of leather to bite on, Armsman?" It was Dell the older sailor standing next to the mast holding a scrap of leather in one hand. Dent just shook his head and looked directly at the mast. Vel must have given the nod since the next thing Dent felt was an explosion of pain in the middle of his back. He grunted as the breath was forced out of his lungs. The pain was excruciating but not unbearable. He was right: he had been hurt worse before, but that didn't make it pleasant. What did make it almost cathartic was the thought that he deserved it, needed it, to drive the picture of his bound cousin from his mind. Each stroke to his back was one less she would have to bear. It was his penance; each stroke he had given was now being returned in kind. The pain cleansed him, redeemed him, and allowed for the rage and anger to surface toward the one who was truly the instigator of this pain-filled play. The vision of Garth and what he had tried, and would have done if not stopped in time, filled him, growing larger and clearer with each stroke of the whip. As the last blow fell he raised both fists in the air and bellowed, quickly turning around to face Garth and the whip-wielding Perth in front of him. Perth must have thought ten wasn't enough since he was in the process of sending one last stroke towards Dent as he turned. Reaching out with his left hand he took the blow on his left forearm and allowed the rawhide end to wrap around until he was able to grab the whip and pull it taut. The sword came out of its scabbard and cut the braded line neatly in two on the upstroke. Hunched down in combat position he began gliding toward the obviously terrified pair. Perth held up both hands in front of himself as if trying to ward off an oncoming demon. "Armsman!" bellowed Vel. "They are for my justice, not yours!" "No, Captain," Dent said looking over at Vel. "Not until I have satisfied mine!" Pointing to Perth with his sword he continued, "This piss-ant you can have, but the other is mine first! He has violated mine and it's with me he must deal. By the Code I will have it!" Vel paused for a moment to consider then slowly continued. "Aye you have the right of it. Perth, my cabin now! We will discuss your counting ability at some length later. Now as for Garth it seems he's accused of theft, or at least attempted theft. He be looking at a few lashes himself it seems. Then, of course, there's leaving post during battle. Now that's a hanging offense. But aye, a Warrior harmed has the right of first trial if the offenses are against him; it's in the Code and it does supersede all other laws, even a king or Putram's law. But hear this: I forbid any duel to the death!" "That's not your right, Captain," Dent said shaking his head. "The Code specifically allows for a trial by combat, to the death." "Then I request that it not be to the death," Vel responded. "Very well, Captain," Dent nodded. "I accede to your request. This will not be to the death, if I can help it." Turning back to Garth, "Now maggot, pick your weapon!" "M-M-My weapon?" "Oh aye," Vel interjected. "The challenged always gets the choice of weapons, you great fat fool, within reason of course. Now best you think clearly and choose wisely. The Warrior has kindly agreed to this not being to the death but that is as far as I'm able, or willing, to go." Garth looked around wildly. He wasn't the brightest man by far, but he did realize that he was outclassed with any weapon they had in the ship's locker. "Belaying pin!" he shouted. There were a number of chuckles throughout the crowd. "Belaying pin?" Dent asked. "Aye, belaying pins!" with that Garth waddled over to what looked like several wooden balls attached to tie-down points along the gunwale. Grabbing one of the balls he pulled it up and began flipping it from hand to hand. A sailor next to the railing picked up another and threw it to Dent. Catching it, Dent looked at what he had been given. It was heaver than he had guessed: a five- to six-inch diameter wooden ball attached to a foot and a half wooden shaft of about two inches in diameter. Used to tie down lines from the sail, it could be also be used as a club or a short mace. "Fine, belaying pin it is." While he was looking at this unfamiliar weapon, he heard the slap of bare feet on the deck and looked up just in time to see Garth charging at him with the pin cocked and ready to strike. Garth was big and fat but moved surprisingly fast; he was almost on Dent before he realized what was happening. Because he couldn't completely avoid the charge, Dent leaned back and to the side twisting as he did allowing the blow to lightly caress his chest as it continued on past. It stung but was by no means a debilitating blow. Continuing his twist he fell to the deck and rolled coming up in a knife fighter's stance with the pin held low, empty hand out, fingers spread. Garth's momentum carried him onward for a few feet where he finally stopped and turned. He obviously thought he had hurt Dent more that he actually did because the grin he sported as he turned became a frown when he saw his unharmed opponent standing ready for him. "Not quite as easy as molesting little girls, is it Garth?" he taunted. Killing the fat sailor would be easy, even with just the wooden club he was given, but not killing could be tricky. It was best to have Garth either fully enraged or consumed with fear. Either way a man's fighting ability deteriorated remarkably. Of the two he preferred to have his opponent enraged; a frightened man tended to fight even harder and Dent didn't want any lucky accident here. He wanted Garth to attack him which would give him the options he wanted. His goal was to leave this bastard alive, but just barely. It worked. Dent could see rage cloud the man's eyes. The humiliation of being caught in front of his fellow crewmen along with the festering resentment he had been harboring since that first day burned away any rational thoughts Garth might have had. With a bellow and upraised club Garth charged. It was the worst thing he could possibly have done. Waiting patiently, Dent moved slightly to his right forcing Garth to veer and causing him to swing across his body instead of straight down. At the last moment Dent moved quickly to the left and swept his own weapon up and out solidly connecting with the wrist of the hand holding the pin. The heavy head of the pin struck the wrist and a sickening crunch could be heard everywhere on the almost silent deck. The bellow of rage turned quickly to a high-pitched scream of pain. Completing his move, Dent spun behind Garth and with his left hand grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling until the fat man toppled to the deck on his back. Almost too quickly to be seen, Dent struck down at the other forearm breaking both bones like matchsticks. Moving like a huge hunting cat he circled to the feet of the blubbering sailor where two more quick blows shattered the kneecaps. More blows followed smashing into arms and legs until it was unlikely any bone was left unbroken. Standing upright Dent casually tossed the belaying pin onto the wounded man's face, knocking out most of his front teeth and breaking his nose. Turning, he strode back to stand in front of the seeming nonplused Vel. Although their captain seemed to be unaffected, such was not the case for a good portion of his crew. Many seemed to have a greenish pallor and there was the sound of retching from the back of the crowd. The utter ferocity and brutality of the fight garnered the warrior no few looks of horror and fear. Even for men used to living a hard and brutal life where kindness meant little more than a sharp knife and a quick end, the almost casual destruction of one of their own was appalling. Granted there were more than a few in the crowd nodding at the blubbering husk lying on the deck. They acknowledged that this was justice, even if a quick death would have been kinder. "You done now?" Vel asked. "Yes" "I suppose stretching he's neck for leaving he's post wouldn't be useful now," Vel continued. "However, if he lives that's what he'll get. You know he's as good as dead." "You asked for him to be alive," Dent shrugged. "He's alive." "Aye," Vel nodded. "I see I need to pick my words more carefully around you. Be that as it may, you have that back looked at by your woman. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morn. We need to talk some." Turning slightly he pointed at Garth, "Bo'sun! Take that rubbish down below. I'd say put it in irons but it don't seem to be going anywhere soon. Well, on your way, Armsman!" Dent started to make a short bow but cut it short as the pain from the cuts across his back suddenly made themselves known. Turning he stumbled as the adrenalin rush left him suddenly and the weariness of the past battle, lashing and duel crashed down on his body. His arms and legs felt like lead and his back burned like it was on fire. Moving to his plate and padding he started to bend down to pick it up when he was stopped by a hand on his arm. "We be taking care of that fer ye, Armsman." Looking up he recognized one of the sailors from his boarding party. "Here I think ye be needing this." In his hand was Dent's dirk. Mumbling his thanks Dent slipped it back into its sheath and trudged forward toward his berth. Again the crowd parted before him, some shifting back in fear, some in respect. Slowly he made his way down below and forward. Finally reaching their berthing compartment he pulled the curtain back and stepped in. Nesho glanced back quickly but looked relieved when she saw who it was. She was sitting next to Sosho who was stretched out on the lower bunk face down still bare to the waist. Nesho had been rubbing an ointment into the angry red welts still visible on her striped back. When Nesho saw him she jumped up and ran over, reaching out tentatively like she was afraid he wouldn't be real if she touched him. Dent's pain seemed to go away when he saw Sosho lying there. Unbuckling his sword belt he let it drop to the deck and he dropped to his knees next to the bunk. Lying his head down next to hers he reached with one shaking hand to gently stroke her hair. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I am so sorry." Twisting her head she glared at him with red-rimmed eyes and hissed, "You!" Behind, Nesho gasped, "Dent, your back!" Moving quickly to the side of the bunk she said, "Sosho, move over. Dent get up there and lie down, now! Wait! Your breeches are filthy, stand up and let's get them off!" Helping him up, she began to unbutton his breeches and slid them down pushing his boots off as she pulled them over his feet. "Small clothes too. By the gods, how did you get so much blood on you?" Unceremoniously prodding her daughter until the complaining girl made room, Nesho firmly guided Dent onto the bunk face down. Using a water-soaked cloth she began cleaning his back ignoring the unmanly whimpers her treatment provoked. "Well they look worse than they are," she grumbled after she was finished. "We'll get some salve on them and it should feel better. A few of these are going to scar for sure." Soon coolness began to cover the raw burning sensation on his back and the pain faded to a dull ache. Weary to the bone, Dent drifted off into sleep. Some time later he woke to the sounds of whispered arguing. His whole body ached and it hurt to move, so instead of fighting it Dent just lay there and listened. "But Momma, he whipped me!" one voice hissed. "Look at his back!" another said. "Did you look at it?" "Yes, but Momma it hurt!" "Of course it did, baby, but do you see his? Half of them are cut right through the skin; I swear one is right to the bone! Yes, you have some welts and I'm sure it hurt like demons but none of yours are as bad as the least of his. What do you think you would have looked liked after twenty of those? He saved you that. Probably saved your life, if truth were known. Then if that weren't enough, after he took that for you then he took care of that asshole. You won't have any scars from this; I can't say the same for him." "I know Momma but it hurt!" "Yes it did, sweet thing, but think how much it hurt him to have to whip you. I'm sure he would have rather taken all twenty than hit you once. Now you can be mad at him if you wish but you best think about it for a while. Right now let's see if you can get your blouse back on. Festou said he would be here shortly with supper; we'll be eating in here tonight." Dent shifted and groaned when his abused muscles complained. "Ah you're awake, and alive," Nesho said brightly. "I am?" he groaned. "That's nice to know. What time is it?" "Supper time, about," she replied. "But for now here is some willow bark tea. It will help the aches a little." "That would be nice," he struggled to sit up. "I feel like a bull sat on me. Ouch, I suppose I should put some pants on anyway." "I don't know, I kind of like the view so long as I don't see your back. You have some nasty cuts there. Nothing too serious but they're going to hurt for a while." Noticing Sosho standing behind Nesho with her blouse held across her breasts he tried to smile but she just sniffed at him. Motioning her over he twirled his finger indicating he wanted her to turn around. Carefully he traced the red welts on her back, thankfully much less visible than they had been before. "I really am sorry, you know," he said. "I couldn't think of anything else. If I could have stopped it completely I would have. I guess I haven't been a very good protector have I?" "I'm still mad at you, you know," she said looking back over her shoulder. "I know. You have every right to be." "Well I'm still mad but I will forgive you," she sniffed. "I just don't know when." "Thank you for that," he said leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Yes, well I'm sure I'll thank you when I forgive you, but not just yet." "Good. Well you better get that blouse on before Festou gets here or you may give him heart failure." "It doesn't seem to bother you," she said look down at his flaccid cock. "Of course not," he huffed. "I am the bastion of pure thoughts; the sight of a beautiful nude woman doesn't affect me in the least." He groaned and continued, "At least not while every inch of my body hurts like it does." "Then I suppose we need to heal your poor hurts, dear Master," Nesho laughed. "I for one intend to test those pure thoughts of yours soon and often." "Mother!" Sosho gasped and she stood up and shook out her blouse, making sure her jiggling breasts were visible to Dent before she put it on and buttoned up. "You are such a hussy!" "Yes I am, aren't I?" Nesho smirked. Blushing Dent pushed himself up before realizing that he wasn't as unaffected by their banter as he thought he was. "Well, well, I can see one muscle seems to be getting back to normal," Nesho grinned. "Well what do you expect?" he growled as he looked around for his breeches. "I may have been beaten up a bit, but I'm not dead yet. I'm not so sure even being dead would stop a man from rising with the two of you around." "Why thank you, Master Dent," Sosho grinned for the first time. "Just for that I may have to forgive you sooner rather than later." Enjoying the fact they could keep Dent both blushing and aroused with their talk about warriors and their weapons, the two keep it up until Festou arrived with their meal. ------- Chapter 14 Nesho was right. It was only a few minutes before Festou was rapping lightly on the bulkhead outside their little cabin. Drawing back the curtain she motioned for him to enter and reached for the large basket he was carrying. "What do you have for us tonight, Festou?" she asked peeking under the cloth laid across the top. "Wonderous things, mistress!" he bubbled. "Cook says it's the best for you three. He says he ain't never been on a ship that took care of their wounded like you did! That and ifen it hadn't been for Mr. Dent Sir, not only wouldn't we have a nice fat prize sitten along side but maybe we'd be already dead an at the bottom!" "Did he really say that?" "Oh yes ma'am, and he ain't the only one," he continued gushing. "Then there's Mr. Dent Sir takin them lashes and whipping Garth right afterwards and him all covered in blood from the fight. Well be more than a few wondering if he's really human and all that, sorry 'bot that sir, just saying what they been saying." Dent just waved his hand brushing aside the comments. "What are they saying about Garth?" the name coming from Nesho's lips like a curse. "Ain't saying much to tell the truth, Mistress." He scratched his head and looked puzzled. "I guess most think he got what he deserved. He ain't never gonna walk again that's fer sure. Not that it matter much anyhow since the Captain gonna stretch he's neck if he lives long enough." "What else is gong on up there?" Dent asked reaching for his pants. Nesho gave a harrumph slapping his arm and pushing him around until he was face down on the bunk again. "You stay there," she ordered. "We've had enough foolishness for one day. You lie there and rest while we get supper for you." "I guess even masters sometime have to do what they're told eh, Mr. Dent Sir?" Festou's grin split his face from ear to ear. "Only if they know what's good for them," Nesho sniffed primly. "Now you scoot off. We have the master to take care of and his clothes. I'm afraid these are probably ruined." "Aye ma'am, oh afore I ferget the Bo'sun told me to remind Mr. Dent Sir that the Captain wants to see him in the morn after breakfast sometime. Oh yes and his armor will be cleaned and down here sometime tonight and if he needs someone to clean his sword I'll be ready anytime..." "Thank you, Festou. We'll ask him when he's up and about. Now you shoo! We have things to do." She fluttered her hands and the boy scampered off. "I think someone has a serious case of hero worship," Nesho teased as she applied another layer of ointment to Dent's wounds. Dent just grunted, the salve soothed the burning of the cuts and the willowbark tea helped dull the ache of his muscles. A few minutes later he was almost dozing when Nesho prodded him up and Sosho handed him a half loaf of bread sliced sideways and hollowed out to form a trencher. In it she'd poured a steaming meat stew. Even as tired as he was, the aroma woke him up and he devoured the tasty treat. Once he was done exhaustion hit him again and he wanted to do nothing but lie down and sleep. "That's a good idea," Nesho said when she spotted him moving over on the bunk next to the bulkhead. "In fact both of you need to get some sleep. Sosho, take off your blouse and skirt, dear. Lie down next to Dent and I'll put some more salve on both of you." Dent scooted over until he was next to the bulkhead as Nesho helped Sosho strip off her blouse and skirt. Even exhausted and pain-wracked as he was he couldn't help but admire her firm young breasts as they swayed slightly with her movement. They weren't quite as large as Nesho's but were much firmer, riding high on her chest. Her nipples were smaller too and both they and their areolae lighter in color than her mother's and as he watched they seemed to grow slightly, sticking out like two small pebbles. He remembered this happening to Nesho when she became excited and wondered if it was the exposure to open air that caused it or something else. His gaze left her magnificent breasts and traveled down her flat belly to the swell of her hips. She was definitely well on her way toward capturing the womanly shape she would undoubtedly have as she matured. White linen pantaloons she wore under her skirt covered her hips and groin but to Dent the sight was almost as exciting as seeing her nude. She was in that between stage: neither girl nor full grown woman, but it was still an exciting and pleasant view. Lying down next to him, not pulling away but not quite touching, she turned her head so they were facing each other. "Enjoying yourself?" she quipped. "Well the accommodations aren't what I had hoped for but the scenery is fabulous," he answered with a grin. "Yeah, well you better enjoy looking at it because that's all you'll be doing. I'm still mad at you, you know." "I know, but to tell the truth it isn't all bad. Hey, I fought and won a battle, got my back lashed, so maybe that part wasn't so great, beat the crap out of an asshole who really deserved it and ended up in bed with a beautiful woman. All in all, if it weren't for the pain it really wasn't all that bad of a day." "You really think I'm beautiful?" "We may have been poor but I remember we still had mirrors." Lifting his head up slightly he looked back and forth from Sosho to Nesho. "You are two of the most beautiful women I have ever met and you know it. Even with what has happened to us, I still think I'm the luckiest man alive." Nesho smiled as she smoothed salve on Sosho's back. "He's such as smooth talker isn't he?" she chuckled. "Is it any wonder I ended up naked, on my back with my legs spread just days after he took control of us?" "Mother!" Sosho shrieked. "Have you no shame?" "None at all," she said happily. "I'm a slave now and don't own anything, especially shame. So you had better enjoy your time here with him because as soon as he's well I'm kicking your skinny little ass out of this bed and moving back in. Then I'm making sure he takes his masterly due with my body, all night long if that's what it takes!" "Mother! That's, well that's..." Sosho sputtered. "Exciting? Arousing? Thrilling?" Nesho filled in, giggling. Dent groaned as his throbbing erection pressed into the thin mattress. "I was going to say disgusting," Sosho said primly. Then she narrowed her eyes looking at Dent, "but I can see you don't think it's very disgusting. I'll just bet you would love having two women in your bed. You think you're man enough for the both of us, Master?" "I'm not sure I'm man enough for even one of you," Dent groaned, again letting his eyes flick up to see Nesho grinning at him. "But you know, little one, that no matter how tempted I am by your beautiful body -- and I have to admit I am tempted -- I would never force you to do anything you didn't want. That goes for either of you." "You know very well you aren't forcing me," Nesho said reaching over and lightly smacking him on his bare ass. "If anything I'm forcing you and for as long as you allow this old slave I'll keep forcing you." Bending over again she began to lightly rub some salve into Dent's cuts. "These are going to scab over nicely; in a day to two they shouldn't bother you at all." "Oh that does feel good," he mumbled. "It's almost worth the lashing just to feel you touching me." Leaning over Nesho whispered in his ear, "Remember, my back is perfectly fine and I don't mind lying on it one little bit." "Hey, I'm still here you know!" Sosho quipped. "If you can keep your slut hands to yourself for the time being us two wounded warriors need to get some sleep." "Oh so I'm a slut now, am I? Hmm, actually I kind of like the sound of that." Standing up she quickly stripped off her clothes and drew on a nightshirt. Picking up a blanket she spread it over their legs up to their backs. Kissing the back of Sosho's head and playfully nipping Dent's ear she giggled and climbed up to the top bunk. The lantern burned low and the gentle rocking of the ship lulled Dent into a lazy stupor. As tired as he was he couldn't get to sleep yet, his erection was still throbbing and he was acutely aware of the heat from Sosho's body lying next to him. Suddenly she moved closer until their noses were almost touching. "Dent, are you still awake?" she whispered. "Hmm," he mumbled. "I need to know something." "Hmm?" "I need to know if you really want to do that with me?" "That?" he whispered back deciding to be playful. "You know: that." "I don't know what you mean, baby." "You do too," she hissed. "What you do with Momma: that!" "Oh you mean doing the dishes, going shopping? Sure I do, baby. I'd love to." Reaching over she pinched him under the arm. "You know what I mean, you ass! Do you want to, ah, make love to me like you do Momma." "Ouch! Oh that. Of course I do, you silly twit. Do you think I'm made of stone? But don't worry. I already told you I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to." She waited a moment or two and then said in a small voice, "What if I wanted to. Would you then?" "Yes, my sexy little cousin, yes I would. Why? Do you want to?" "I don't know, maybe. When I'm not mad at you anymore." "Well you let me know what you want to do. Until then, you're safe." "All right. I just wanted to know." "Good, now how about we get some sleep? All this talk about this and that is driving me crazy. I need to calm down a little." "Maybe I like driving you crazy, just a little bit anyway. But you're right we do need to get to sleep. Ah, even though I'm still mad at you I wanted to say thank you for taking care of that bastard for me, and for taking the lashes. I don't think anyone on this ship will touch either Momma or me with a pike stick after today." "You're welcome, little bit. That's what I'm here for. Now good night." "Good night, Master," she said before quickly kissing the end of his nose then snuggling down into the mattress. Dent woke up the next morning on his side with the feel of soft female flesh spooned in next to him. It took him a moment to realize it was Sosho instead of Nesho there with him. His groin and ever-present morning hard-on pushed her pantaloons into the crack of her ass and with his arm around her waist his hand gently cupped a firm breast. Realizing he was pressing into her back he tried to quickly move away but as soon as he moved Sosho clamped her arm down on his preventing any retreat. "Your back..." he began. "Hush," she whispered. "My back is fine and this feels really good so you just stay right here." Feeling his erection between the cheeks of her ass she started to slowly grind into him. "Hmm, looks like someone else is awake this morning too." "Ahhh, gods, Sosho, you're going to kill me!" "Well we can't have that, now can we?" she said saucily. "Hmm, I don't think I'm ready to take care of you like Momma does but here, let's try something." By reaching down and wiggling her butt she was able to work her pantaloons down until they rested on her thighs. Spreading her legs slightly she reached in between and grabbed his cock, pulling it back until it was trapped by her thighs barely rubbing the lips of her cunt. "Come on, you know what to do now," she urged Dent began slowly thrusting, it didn't feel quite as good as being inside a pussy but it did feel pretty damned good! As he thrust, his cock slightly split her lips and the head rubbed against her small clit. Sosho started moaning as the unfamiliar sensations began to heat up her groin giving her an almost overwhelming feeling of desire in the pit of her stomach. Fear of the unknown was the only thing holding her back from spreading her legs again and stuffing the head of his cock into her virgin hole. For Dent it was pure bliss. The friction between Sosho's silken thighs was incredible and as he continued she became even more excited and her natural lubricating juices leaked out coating his cock making the sensation better as they went along. It didn't take long before he felt the pressure build up in his balls and they started to contract. Just before he was ready to shoot Sosho gasped and clenched her thighs together tightly causing Dent to lose control and begin to spew his cum between her legs and over her pussy. Gasping for breath they both lay still for the moment until Sosho suddenly twisted in his arms and brought her lips up to his in a smoldering kiss. Lips parted and tongues touched as the kiss grew more heated still. "Ah hmm," came the sound of someone clearing their throat. Startled, Dent and Sosho looked up to find Nesho standing next to the bunk with her eyebrows raised and a little smirk on her lips. Blushing, the two broke apart slightly. "Did we have fun this morning?" Nesho asked dryly. "I was merely helping our master with his morning problem," Sosho said primly. "Like any good slave should do." "Yes, well next time keep his problem inside you; it's a lot less messy," her mother replied pointing to their soiled groins and bed sheets. This time Sosho turned bright red and started to cover herself. Before she did she suddenly changed her mind, raised her chin defiantly and with two fingers scooped up a bit of his spending and brought it to her mouth where she licked it off while staring at her mother daring her to say anything. "And you called me a slut, you little trollop," Nesho chuckled. "Fine. You clean yourself off and I'll take care of the master." With that she drew her nightshirt over her head and threw it down on the deck. With a wicked gleam in her eyes she knelt down between his legs and promptly sucked his still engorged member into her mouth. Letting it plop out of her mouth she began licking the combined juices from his balls and pubic hair. When she finished she again took him into her mouth and began to slowly fuck her mouth on his cock. Dent could do little except lean back and moan. After a few minutes of that he was steel hard again and she let him plunk out of her mouth again. This time he whimpered from the loss. "Always clean up after yourself, daughter," Nesho said as she pushed the young woman out of the bunk where she landed on the deck with a thump. "It's the ladylike thing to do. But now our master has another slave to thrash into submission." Lying down in the spot recently vacated by her daughter Nesho spread her legs and pulled Dent over on top of her. She was incredibly wet and Dent penetrated completely with his first thrust. "Fuck me, Master! Fuck me hard!" she panted. Sosho looked on in wonder as Dent began to forcefully plunge in and out of her mother while Nesho applied both hands and heels to his ass urging him on. Even given the fact he had cum just minutes before with Sosho, it didn't take long until he was ready to explode again. Just as he felt it start Nesho clamped down on him with her pussy and began to wail. "Oh, Ohhh, gods yes, Master!" she screamed. "Cum in me! Cum in me now!" It would have taken a man with superhuman control not to do as she demanded. Dent was strong but he wasn't that strong; he thrust in deep one last time and held it as his seed spewed into his aunt again. When he was done he collapsed on top of her completely spent while she held him in tightly with her legs, cooing love in his ear. After a few minutes he was finally able to push himself up and off dropping to the side carefully so as not to land on his back. Funny but he hadn't even thought about his back during either of his romps with the women, but now it began to ache a little. Nesho languished on her back, eyes half closed, a little smile on her lips radiating what Dent had come to think of as her well-fucked glow. "I think we can safely say our master is more than man enough to handle two women," she said slowly. "I guess so, Momma," Sosho hissed breathlessly. It was the first time she had been able to really see what was going on and her only thought now was, I'm going to get me some of that. I don't care how much it hurts the first time! "You two women are devils," Dent groaned. "Sent by the dark ones to drive the life from my body, but by the gods I love it! I love you, both of you! But what is all this master business. I know we need to do that out where everyone else can hear it, but why here, now?" "That's simple, Dent," Nesho said turning her head toward him. "I told you before, you own me. Regardless of what the law says, regardless of what Jeevel says, or Vel or any of them. You. Own. Me. "I am your woman, your slave, your property. I do this not just because I have to but because I want to. I give myself to you body and soul. I am yours to do with as you please. You are my master, my husband, my god. I know you don't understand it now, but someday you will." Dent noticed Sosho was biting her lip but nodding vigorously just the same. "You're right, I don't understand it," he sighed. "But one thing I do know is that I belong to the both of you just as much as you belong to me." "Of course, dear," Nesho replied. "We already knew that." The sun was bright and the seas calm as he walked along the main deck aft towards the Captain's cabin. Sailors were moving, if not quickly at least purposefully, around the deck cleaning up and repairing the damage of battle. Most stopped briefly to give him a "Morn, Armsman," or "'day, Sir" as he passed, most with genuine respect, others with fear. Dent accepted the respect happily; the fear he just shrugged off. After all having someone fear you didn't bring quite the same safety as respect but for the most part the results were the same. Knocking on the bulkhead outside the cabin and hearing the command to enter, he walked in to find Vel sitting at the small desk shuffling through a number of sheets of paper. "Ah Armsman, come in, come in! Have a seat. I'll be with you in a moment." Vel waved a hand toward a chair. "Thank you, Captain," he sat in the chair stiffly, partly to keep his back off the rear of the chair but also because he certainly wasn't comfortable in this man's presence. After a few minutes Vel pushed the papers to one side and turned towards his contracted warrior. After studying the young man for a moment, he suddenly broke out in a large grin. "Still angry with me, are you? Well I can understand that." "Captain?" Dent said stiffly. "For the lashes, both yours and the wench's. You're still mad about that." "Captain, it is your right to discipline us as you see fit." Dent bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything further. "Yes it is," Vel said calmly. "We have rules on this ship and they must be applied to everyone equally or it would be impossible to keep this mob of cutthroats in line for more than a day. So regardless of what I personally think about what your little one's actions she had to be punished for what she did. "Now as for you taking half her lashes for her, a noble gesture that. I'm not sure I would have taken that for a slave, no I know I wouldn't have. But the fact is you did and let me tell you it impressed no few of the men out on the deck yesterday. Impressed most and scared the rest shitless. To have a man fight a battle, take a ship, get ten lashes and then beat a man like Garth near to death... Well let's just say there are no few in the crew that are glad you're on our side now." "Ah, thank you, Captain," Dent replied relaxing slightly. "Yes, felt bad about having to do that to the lass but nothing for it. How is she doing, by the way?" "She'll be fine. It'll hurt for a while but she'll be fine in a few days. Pissed as the devil at me but she'll get over it, I'm sure." "Aye, that she will. Especially when she realizes exactly what you did for her." Vel shook his head then shrugged. "Some would say you give those two way to much freedom but it seems to work for you and to tell the truth I've seen it a lot looser. You'll see that for yourself when we get to Harv'el. "That brings up another point I wanted to talk about. I know it's not your custom to mark your slaves but in Jeevel it's required." Dent nodded, well aware of the choices he had to make. "Remember I told you they must either be tattooed or collared. You still set on the collar? I thought as much. Well it would be a shame to mar those pretty faces. I told you it would be about one gold each to buy the salidin, one gold for the tax and a few silver to pay the priest to put them on. Say roughly four gold and five or six silver. Now I know I told you you would probably have to sell one of your pretties just to pay the tax but you'll be happy to know that won't be necessary now. "You'll be getting your full share, actually double share with that crazy stunt of yours taking the Vengeance, and even with the minimum prize money Jeevel will give us that comes to a goodly sum. So even without the share from the Pinya you will be a relatively well-off young man, more than enough to take care of your women." It took a minute for that to sink in but when it did Dent could feel a huge weight lift from his shoulders. His plans for when they hit port were still half formed but now it looked like they wouldn't be needed. That certainly cheered him up. Whatever he would have finally come up with would probably have been dangerous and maybe even impossible. "Ah, that is good news, Captain," he sighed. "I thought it might be. I can see you have some affection for those two and while some might not approve of getting too attached to mere slaves... Well that's your business, not mine. I don't mind helping out if I can. You've helped make me and this crew very wealthy, very wealthy indeed. But that brings me to another point I wanted to talk to you about." "Captain?" "Like I said you've helped make the crew and me very wealthy. In fact these men will have more gold in their pockets then they have ever seen before, probably more than they ever dreamed of. What do you think is going to happen when we hit Harv'el? Keep in mind nobody here is under contract like you are. Crew signs on for a voyage, not for any particular time." "Hmm, my guess is they'll take off as soon as they can," Dent answered. "Like the proverbial rats off the sinking ship they will, and most of them won't be back until they drank up or fucked away every copper they have. Even with this bunch that could take a fair amount of time given the shares they have coming. What it does leave me is a ship without a crew and a warrior under contract that I haven't the slightest idea what to do with." "Well I suppose I'll just do whatever you want me to. Guard your gold if nothing else, I guess." "Pretty expensive guard if you ask me," Vel laughed. "I can hire a whole squad of palace guards for what I have to pay you. I tell you that Guild of yours is ungodly strong. If I hadn't seen you in action I would never have believed you were worth even the minimum on a standard contract. Yes, yes, no need to get defensive. I have seen you work and I do believe you're worth it, but that doesn't mean I want to pay you. Here it is plain and simple: I'm offering you a release from your contract when we reach Harv'el, free and clear, no buyout." "May I think about it, Captain?" "Of course. The contract is binding unless both of us agree. If you decide you want the employment then I'll find something for you to do. I thought you might like the freedom to look for something else while we're inactive for a while." "Inactive? Does that mean you plan to start up again? May I ask why? I mean you just told me this trip has made you wealthy. Why not just give it up?" "I suppose I could," Vel mused. "Get me a nice house in Harv'el; maybe buy me a couple of fat young slaves to keep the bed warm. But Jeevel isn't my home and to tell the truth I'm not ready to settle down just yet. Too much fire in the blood; I'd go crazy after a year or two." "Year? What's a year?" Dent asked puzzled. "You call them a season up north here. Anyway a few seasons and I'd be ready to slit my own belly. Though I will admit I am ready to give up on this raiding. There may be easier ways to get yourself killed, but not many. Maybe I'll start doing some honest shipping myself. There's going to be a need for it if this nonsense between Jeevel and Malshall ever settles down." Dent thought for a moment, "Is it all that much safer? I mean with all the piracy going on around here and the raiding, shipping seems to be fairly dangerous work also." "There is that," Vel nodded. "It's something to think about anyway. It will once I get done with this damn figuring of the shares anyway. Never could stand fiddling with numbers. Give me a day on the bridge, even if I have to spend it fighting it would be better than this!" "Why don't you let me send up Nesho? She's very good at casting numbers, used to do that back in... Back where we came from." "A bookkeeper? A gift from the gods! No wonder you don't want to give them up, these women of yours are full of valuable surprises. If she can do it I'll give you one gold for her service." "Done. I'll send her up after midday meal." "Done and done! Now before you leave I wanted to get your opinion on how to approach Malshall about the ransom for their lost children. It was your idea after all." "So I'm guessing doing the figures for Captain Vel won't be too much of a problem?" Dent was laying on his back, his cuts were still irritating but with Nesho's head resting on his shoulder one arm thrown across his chest he considered it a minor irritation. They had just completed a very strenuous lovingmaking session. Nesho had been very demanding and very vocal in her appreciation, enough that there had been calls from the outer berthing compartment asking Dent to please stop torturing the woman and go ahead and kill her. It started when Nesho returned late that evening from Vel's cabin to find Dent rubbing salve into Sosho's barely visible welts. Of course Dent was happy to do so, first because he still felt guilty about them and second because it meant a half-naked Sosho. Sosho had given up her pretend anger and was having fun teasing him unmercifully, making sure he could see her fully exposed breasts as she moved just inches away from his face. She even made several little unnecessary movements causing them to jiggle, as if that were needed to keep his attention riveted! She had almost convinced herself to allow their play to continue even further than it had that morning when Nesho returned. Pushing the curtain aside and entering the alcove Nesho raised her eyebrows at the sight of her topless daughter. Sosho heard her mother and turned to look quickly grabbing her blouse and covering herself. "Ah, Dent was kind enough to help me with my back, Momma," she said blushing furiously. "Yes, I can see that," Nesho replied dryly. "That's not the only thing we can see. You've been teasing the poor man, haven't you?" Sosho turned her head and grinned at Dent. "A little maybe." "Well don't be surprised if he suddenly doesn't want to play 'tease me' any longer and pulls you into that bed for something more." "Oh he wouldn't do that, would you, Dent?" Still looking at him she batted her eyes. "Hmm," he mumbled giving her a leer. Suddenly he grinned back, "No I wouldn't, but I'd sure be tempted." "Well maybe we'll both be more than tempted soon," she said panting a little. "Yes, yes, yes, you two can dance around it as long as you want, but right now Master Dent and I have a few matters to discuss. You, young woman, can get right up there and get to bed." "Momma, that's not fair! I'm supposed to sleep with him tonight! Besides my back still hurts." "Of course it's fair, you slept with him last night I do it tonight and your back can hurt up there just as well as it can down here." "Deeeent!" Sosho whined. "Sosho!" he said, "I can sleep up there and both of you can sleep down here if there is going to be this arguing. Now do what your mother tells you." Leaning over he whispered in her ear, "Maybe tomorrow night we can both think of something we'd like to play at." "Fine!" she huffed and then blushed again. "I'll do it, but I thought you were the master here?" "I may be the master but I've never been in charge, you know that," he said pinching her bottom as she stood up. "Ouch!" she yipped. Sticking her nose up in the air she moved over to the bunks and removed her skirt, then she proceeded to push down her pantaloons slipping them off and throwing them onto the pile of her clothing. "Oh," she said as casually as she could, "I just thought you might like to know, Master, I have decided it will be much more comfortable if I sleep naked from now on. Good night." With that she wiggled and slinked her way up into the top berth. "And you call me a slut, you little trollop," Nesho chuckled. An answering giggle from the top bunk let them know the barb hadn't been taken seriously. Turning back to Dent she smiled and said, "I believe my daughter has plans for you." "Any more than her mother?" he replied. "No!" Locking eyes with him she began to swiftly peel her clothing off until she was gloriously naked. Stepping closer until her breasts were gently brushing against his chest she continued to look up at him. Slowly he placed his arms around her, feeling the satin smoothness of her skin. Lightly he moved his hands up and down her body letting only the tips of his fingers touch from the swell of her ass to the roundness of her shoulder. As he touched her she shuddered and gasped. Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and snuggled in as close to him as possible. She moaned as he continued his tentative exploration. Without opening her eyes Nesho began to unbutton his shirt pulling it out of his breeches and pushing it back and down his arms. He released her long enough for her to push the shirt off entirely but before he could embrace her again she dropped to her knees and started to untie the waist of his breeches. When done she pushed both the breeches and his small clothes down until his cock sprung free, fully erect and ready. Nesho opened her mouth and engulfed as much as she could and began to gently suck. Both moaned in ecstasy as she let him slide from her mouth and she began to lick every inch she could reach. As she did this she continued to push his breeches down until she could finally pull them over his feet and he was as naked as she. Feeling less passive than usual, Dent reached down and grabbed Nesho under her arms and began to gently but firmly pull her up. She protested with little whimpering sounds that were cut off suddenly when his lips met hers and he forced his tongue deep into her mouth. Nesho responded with happy little squeals and promptly started sucking on his tongue like it was a miniature cock. Twisting their bodies around Dent guided Nesho until the backs of her knees came into contact with the edge of the bunk. Lips still locked he lowered her until she was splayed out beneath him and he was positioned between her spread legs. Releasing her mouth Dent pushed himself up slightly so he could look down at the beauty beneath him. Nesho laid there, eyes half open, lips slightly parted, she was panting a little, shaking with need and desire. Although he could have easily mounted her then, there was something else he wanted to do first. Kissing first her neck and then down to her breasts, he found he had to spend some time sucking and lightly biting her wonderful nipples. Leaving her breasts for the time being he continued downward until he could stick his tongue into her dainty belly button. She groaned and whimpered, begging him to stop and get his cock back to where it belonged. He ignored her requests and continued southward until his lips, teeth and tongue became entangled in the short downy fur of her nether regions. She continued to whimper as he pushed her legs apart until he could see the puffy pink lips of her sex. Smelling the musky odor of her arousal, he spread her legs further until he could just see the lips of her cunt start to part. Beautiful, he thought, wet, glistening, and absolutely irresistible. Bending down he began to lick up and down her flower petals as her whimpers turned to groans, then moans and finally shrieks as he concentrated on the little nub located at the top of her cleft. Without warning her legs popped up and clamped onto his head as she screamed her pleasure. Grabbing his hair with both hands she shook and bucked until finally her orgasm subsided enough that she was able to bodily pull him up and position him at her portal. He would never have been able to resist the pleading need in her eyes but that was superfluous to his need now. As soon as she placed him at the opening to her sex he drove forward impaling her in one quick stroke. She screamed again and bit down on his neck as another massive orgasm ripped through her body. Crying with release she held on tightly as he began to pound into her, filling her completely with each stroke until the head of his cock bumped against her cervix. It didn't take long at this pace until he felt the tickle in his balls signaling his impending release. Suddenly he drove into her as deeply as he could and held it there while spurt and spurt of his seed coated her insides. Completely drained, he slumped down on her while she locked her arms and legs behind his back preventing him from moving even if he had been able. Twice more that night she coaxed him up before draining him until both were happily exhausted for the time being. ------- Chapter 15 "So I'm guessing doing the figures for Captain Vel won't be too much of a problem?" "Hmm? Oh, no they won't be any problem," Nesho yawned and went back to idly dragging her fingernails over his chest. "That isn't going to do you any good, woman," he mumbled. "You've completely drained me. I don't think there's any possible way to get it up now." "Hmm, I wouldn't mind trying though. Now don't give me that look, I was just kidding. Even if you could get it up I'm so sore down there I wouldn't be able to take care of it." Tensing he quickly asked, "Are you all right? Was I too, uh, hard on you tonight? I'm sorry; I'll control myself in the future, I promise." "Oh hush, you big silly thing. Tonight was perfect, absolutely wonderful, don't you dare change a thing. If I think you're holding back on me I'm going to grab your jewel pouch and squeeze, do you hear me?" she teased. "I hear you but I also don't want to hurt you." "I know," she snuggled even closer. "How's your back?" "It itches and when I was doing my stretching today I'm pretty sure one or two of the scabs cracked open. In other words, normal, I've had worse as you're well aware." He chuckled, "You're not my mother, you know." "No I'm not," she said slapping him lightly. "I'm your woman now so that gives me an even greater say in how you take care of yourself." "Yes, I suppose it does," he said not disputing her claim. "Ah, Nesho, there's something I want, need, to talk to you about. Do you think Sosho is asleep yet?" "Hmm, I think so. I'm pretty sure she wasn't asleep during my ravishing; I happened to catch her looking at us once or twice. Why? Is there a problem?" "I don't know, could be, it's just... Oh gods, I don't know how to put this!" he lay there silently for a moment collecting his thoughts. Then he sighed and continued, "No easy way around it so I just better come out and say it. I get the feeling that Sosho may want the two of us to, well, ah..." "You mean my baby girl wants to fuck her big cousin?" "Well, yes. I wasn't going to put it quite that way but that ties it up fairly well." "So what does big cousin want? Does he want to fuck his pretty little cousin?" "Nesho!" he hissed. "This is hard enough as it is. Fine, you want to be blunt then I can be also. The answer is yes and no." "Yes and no? How can it be both? Either it's yes or it's no." "Well it's both," he sighed again. "I mean yes I want to be with her. She's a beautiful woman, someone I've grown up with and loved almost my entire life. So in that respect the answer is yes, I do desire her. The answer is no because I don't know how you really feel about it." He shifted slightly to his side so they were nose to nose with her head resting on his arm. "I don't know how to say what I really feel. The fact is I love you both but between the two of you -- this is difficult -- you are more equal then she is. That doesn't sound good and it's not exactly right but it's as close as I can come. You are both the women in my life but you are the woman in my life. Does that make any sense?" Nesho was quiet for a moment. "Yes, Dent, that makes sense. Thank you for making me feel special. Maybe under normal circumstances I would feel jealous of a younger and prettier girl in your bed..." "Younger, yes," Dent interrupted, "but not prettier." "Thank you again, you sweet talker, now shut up until I finish." "Yes, ma'am." "Hush, I said. Now where was I? Oh yes, under normal circumstances I would never willingly share my husband with another woman. But these aren't normal circumstances; if they were, the two of us wouldn't be together which I don't even want to think about now. The fact is the circumstances have changed. The three of us are together as we never were before and if we want to stay together we need to adapt. "The simple fact is you have two women now. To think of it any other way wouldn't be fair to either Sosho or you. She is your woman just as much as I am and I hope you treat her as my equal, anything else I can take care of. I intend to run your household and that includes the women in it. You will end up in bed with her; it is now her right as well as yours, and you will make her happy there. Not that I have any doubt you will make her the second happiest little slave in your harem." "So I'm to have a harem now, am I?" "Yes you do, now hush, I said. Tomorrow night you will bring her to this bed and you will make her your woman once and for all. I will sleep up there and try to restrain myself from joining you. Will I be jealous? I don't think so, at least I hope not. Envious? Yes. I will be wishing it was me but I also know I will be there soon enough. This is something Sosho and I have to work out. You don't need to get involved other than to love us both." "I have no say in this?" Dent grumped. "No Master, you don't." "For some reason this just doesn't seem right: the slave telling the master what to do. However, since everything seems to be turning out pretty well for me I guess the best thing I can do is keep my mouth shut and hang on." "Good answer. Now was there anything else you wanted to talk about?" "Actually there was but if you're too tired it can wait." "Oh I could sleep all right but I'm not that tired, more like I'm in a stupor. I think they call it that well-fucked feeling." "Gods woman, you're going to embarrass me to death someday. So now maybe is a good time to change the subject. Here's what Vel and I talked about tonight..." Dent reiterated his conversation with Vel and they talked quietly about some of the ramifications. Nesho said she wanted to think about it awhile and finally they both drifted off to a very pleasant and relaxing sleep. As much as he really wanted to sleep in, Dent's internal clock conditioned by years at the academy wouldn't let him. Vel had made it clear there wouldn't be any boarding party practice for the remainder of the voyage. There wasn't much point since the four squads were either decimated during the fight or split between the two warships. There weren't enough left to make up a worthwhile practice session. That didn't mean there wasn't anything for an Armsman to do. The equipment, arms and armor had to be inventoried, assessed and repairs made where needed, but that could be done easily over the next few days they expected to be at sea. For the first time since the days aboard the Pinya, Dent was able to move at a leisurely pace and he found it suited him just fine. The morning was spent in the armory doing what needed to be done while Nesho tended to the wounded and Sosho helped by mending sail and armor padding. In the afternoon Dent spent a few hours talking with Vel while Nesho worked on the Captain's figures. Sosho was off doing whatever caught her fancy. She was much more comfortable moving around the ship by herself after her ordeal especially when one of their berthing compartment companions laughingly told her about a rumor coming out of the aft berthing compartment. It seemed some of the crew actually believed she was a killer slave trained by her master in the deadly arts, a rumor she wisely didn't dispute. Midday meal was spent in their berth with the two women. After insuring Sosho was well occupied for the afternoon Dent and Nesho proceeded to the Captain's cabin where Nesho worked on the books while Dent and Vel talked about the business of shipping, something Dent knew almost nothing about, and life in the academy, something Vel had heard about only as rumor. "I'm surprised you are so willing to talk about your time there," Vel said. "Why not?" Dent shrugged. "There's nothing secret about it. Not much to it but hard work and long years. We learn to fight, study, drill, physical training and practice, practice, practice." "I'm surprised more about what you studied. I've met a few warriors during my time up here and while they seem to be highly competent men it struck me that individual combat was all they were interested in." This time Vel shrugged. "Here you are telling me you studied mathematics, science, engineering, politics. I didn't get the impression that a warrior's training was so, ah, liberal and varied." "I really don't know what they study at the other academies," Dent admitted. "I know there are some differences because we had visiting instructors -- graduates from the other schools -- come in and give us examples of their fighting styles. I never thought about what else they learned. It wasn't discussed much although come to think of it that seems to be a fairly obvious oversight. I wonder if it was intentional." "You would have to wonder why if it was. Still, mathematics? Engineering? Not what one would normally expect for someone who -- and lets be frank about this -- someone who is expected to be little more than a trained killer." "Well a little bit more than just a trained killer," Dent replied. Hearing his chosen profession described as nothing more than a butcher's job was somewhat unsettling. "A warrior's task to achieve the goal set forth by his employer. Admittedly that often involves combat and actual warfare but that isn't the goal. Say for example if we had been able to maneuver or bluff the Vengeance so they would have left us without a fight. Wouldn't that have been preferable?" "Actually that turned out fairly well for us," Vel laughed. "Much better for you, in fact." "True," Dent admitted. "But without knowing the actual outcome we would rather not have run the risk, wouldn't we?" Vel grunted and looked up, his eyes unfocused like he was remembering something from long ago. "Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting." "Yes exactly!" Puzzled, Dent continued, "That's it exactly. In fact you sound like my instructors, almost verbatim! Where did you learn that? Were you ever a student at an academy?" "Me at an academy? No. Not one like yours anyway." Vel was silent for awhile. "I went to school of course, all of us did, and then on for naval training. That's where I learned it. It's from a book, a very old book. Thousands of years old from what I can understand. It set down the principles of war and how to win them. "You're quite right you know. The goal isn't just to win a battle but to win the war and anything that helps you win is good while anything that doesn't is bad. But this doesn't explain everything you took. It just isn't what I would expect from a place that trains what are really just super soldiers." "Dent was special," Nesho interjected. "What's that? What did you say, woman?" Her interruption surprised both of them. Nesho had been working so quietly it was easy to forget she was there. Vel turned in his chair to look at her. "He was special. Special training, extra courses," she continued. "Nesho, he doesn't need to know this." Dent's ears burned slightly. "He is your contract holder, is he not, Master?" "Yes, of course he is." "Then don't you think he should know your full qualifications and abilities?" "Do you really think so?" She just nodded. Exasperated he said, "Fine. Then you tell him." "Of course, Master," she said smiling. Vel just shook his head. "Are you sure you're not married? My brother's wife led him around just like that. A velvet glove covering a fist of iron. A most gentle woman, kind and compassionate unless you crossed her. Then she was more dangerous than any pit viper ever seen." "I can assure you, sir, we are not married. Besides, who would saddle such a fine young gentleman with an old crone like me?" "Ha! He could certainly do worse. In any case he seems to be saddled with you now and if what I hear from my forward compartment is correct: the saddle fits well and is often used!" Dent felt the blood rush to his face while Nesho merely turned toward him and smiled gently. "I thank the gods every day for giving me to my master. It is both my honor and my joy to serve him. I love him with every fiber of my being and rejoice every time he allows me the privilege of sharing my body with him." "Yes, he could do much worse," Vel nodded slowly. "I'd say if I had one like you, slave or not, then maybe being tied down to shore wouldn't be so bad." "Thank you, Captain." Now Nesho was a little flush herself. "I am nothing more than a simple woman in love. It probably isn't appropriate for me to say that, but it's true." "No it isn't appropriate at all, at least around here. Now where I come from it's not only appropriate, it's common. Just be careful who you talk to and it shouldn't be a problem. "Enough of this distraction, though. What is this about Dent being Special? " Seeing Nesho grin at Dent again he continued, "I mean his schooling, you silly woman. I swear if there is anything with a more one-track mind then a besotted woman I don't know what it is. Tell me about his schooling. You seem to know quite a bit about it, certainly more than any common slave would. Are you sure you're not married? No? Fine then continue." "I assure you we were not married, Captain, but I did run his household after his mother died and after his father died it was just the three of us." Dent was uncomfortable with providing Vel with this much information but didn't move to stop her. As much as he didn't want to, he found himself liking and even trusting the gruff giant. At first he seemed little more than one more blood-thirsty pirate among the many but the more he talked to Vel it was evident there was much more below the surface. Like an onion being peeled, each new layer was a new and astounding revelation. "As such I felt it was part of my responsibility to understand what he was doing and going through. How else could I serve him well? So indeed I do know about his special status." Nesho went on to fill him in on Dent's father's status, his death and subsequent choice while leaving out their exact relationship and her reason for coming to his household. "So when he first entered the academy he was a few seasons older than most of the other boys. They tested him and placed him in a special program. He was being groomed for leadership and not just for fighting. If he goes back it will be either as an instructor or with a position in Salas' army." "Then why leave?" Vel asked. "I had to," Dent interjected. "To be on the instruction staff you must be a veteran of at least three fulfilled contracts. No waivers and these contracts must be from outside Salas. Besides it's not what I wanted to do." "So you thought it would be fun to see the world as a great warrior," Vel snorted. "I don't know about being a great warrior but yes I did want to see at least some of the world, I should say we wanted to see some of the world. Not the best choice, I can say now, looking back over the horse's end." "To have one so young and not want that, now that might be a crime. So you were being groomed as a general, eh?" "I was given the opportunity to be trained in what they thought leaders needed to be trained in. Any position would have to be earned just like everywhere else." "It was more than just that, Master, and you know it," Nesho interrupted again. "More?" Vel asked. "What does she mean by more?" "Nesho, I don't think the Captain would be interested in..." he stopped when she raised her eyebrows at him. "What I mean," Nesho continued, "is for a man to become an instructor at the Salas academy they require certain sacrifices. One that I am very happy to say my master wasn't willing to make." "What kind of sacrifices?" "His manhood for one. They castrate their instructor candidates upon acceptance. They want complete dedication to their order and believe even the hint of sexual desire is too much of a distraction." "That is quite a sacrifice, I would say." "But there's more," she continued. "Family is also considered a distraction. We would have been separated and never been able to see each other again. I think this decided it for him more than the other." "Well the other would have been more than enough for me!" Vel laughed. Turning back to Dent he asked, "So you think of your two slaves as your family?" "They are my family, sir," he replied quietly. "More so than anyone else has ever been." "That does explain a number of things." "What do you mean?" "Never mind. Woman, are you done yet!" "Yes, Captain, I've been done for a while now. We don't have the final inventory for the Vengeance yet, but less that, everything is done." "Damn, that was well worth the price! Are you sure you wouldn't want to sell her to me? I'd take good care of her." "No, Captain, I don't think so." "Can't blame you. Fine. Well then I have to go up and relieve the watch. this having one crew split between three ships is certainly a lot of work, but then I suppose the reward is worth it." "Yes, Captain, by your leave." With that Dent ushered Nesho out of the cabin. "I'm sorry if I spoke out of place in there." Dent and Nesho were walking slowly up the deck toward their berth. They were close but not exactly touching. "I don't mind," he sighed. "I'm not sure why and maybe it's a big mistake but I feel like I can trust him, a little anyway." "I know. I have the same feeling," she said. They were quiet for a few moments. "Thank you for what you said in there," he said breaking the silence. "Which part, dear?" she said brushing her hair back over her shoulder. It was a losing battle since the late afternoon wind kept blowing it back over her face. "Where you said that, ah, you loved me." "Oh that. Well it's true. Maybe I should be more careful in saying it but I really don't care who knows. I do love you." "I know," he said. "And I love you." "I know you do, dear heart," she smiled and grabbed his arm pulling herself up next to him. Festou had already come and gone leaving the girls their evening meal. Dent stayed for a while and talked with them both about inconsequential things until it was time for him to head to the wardroom and his own dinner. After they finished and cleaned up the little bit of mess, Nesho sat on the bunk and leaned back against the bulkhead closing her eyes. Shortly she felt the bunk move and knew Sosho was sitting next to her. "Momma?" she heard a voice so much like a little girl's she had to open her eyes to make sure it was still her almost grown daughter sitting next to her. "Yes, dear?" "Momma, I need to ask you something," Sosho paused, "but before I do why don't you get angry when I call you momma anymore?" "Oh that," Nesho chuckled. "Do you really think it matters now? I don't think anyone here cares how we're related, sisters or mother/daughter. I don't think they would care if they knew just how we were related to Dent any more. Sure they may be intrigued, but do you really think anyone on board this ship would do anything after Dent's performance the other day?" "I suppose not. We have been treated differently since then, haven't we? Certainly I have. I haven't been propositioned in days and they do seem to be much more polite. I even notice when I meet someone on the deck or below they give me plenty of room, almost like they're afraid of me." "Maybe they are afraid of you, darling, but I know they're terrified of Dent." "Yes it has been an improvement; maybe getting lashed was worth it." "I'm not sure I'd go that far, baby," she chuckled again. "But it did seem to work out for the better. Now what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" "Last night, I wasn't asleep and I heard you two talking..." "Well I do tell him there isn't going to be anything resembling privacy among the three of us." She sighed, "So what do you want to know?" "What you told him to do last night: take me to bed and make me his woman. Did you mean that?" "Hmm, you do have the ears of a bat. You two have been dancing around your feelings and each other long enough. All you're going to accomplish by waiting is to drive each other to distraction and make me crazy. We both know it's going to happen; it's just a matter of when, so I think if you're ready then it should be sooner rather than later. What do you think?" "I don't know, Momma. I mean thinking about it is exciting, but also scary. Yes I love him but do I love him this way?" Nesho just raised her eyebrows. "Fine, fine! So I do love him that way. Yes, every time he touches me I feel like falling down and when I touch him my stomach gets all floppy and I get really warm all over and wet... down there. But I'm still scared." "I know you are, baby. I know exactly how you feel. You're sixteen. I was married and going through what you are now when I was thirteen. I know you're scared but I also know when it's over you will never have felt better in your life." "Will it hurt, Momma?" "A little, at first, but that goes away quickly and then... well then you won't believe how good it feels." "Then I suppose it is time," she said almost sadly. "I guess I wasn't expecting to be the number two woman in a man's life. He made it pretty clear who he really wants to be with." "Come here, baby." Nesho gathered her daughter into her arms. "You have to remember Dent is still a young man. I have been his mother and now his lover, the only woman he has ever known that way. Do you think it's surprising he's fixated on me? I don't, I would be surprised if he didn't. "Does that mean he doesn't love you as much as me? Not in the least. Do you really think there isn't enough love in that big heart of his for the both of us? I'm just afraid he'll get hold of your young beautiful body and realize just what a hag I am and then I'll have to fight to get back by his side. Which I would, dear, fight that is." "Oh Momma, I guess I'm just being silly." "Not silly, just young. It took me a few years to understand that I wasn't your father's number one woman either, not even number two. I don't think that will happen with Dent, but just in case I think we should keep him so well fucked he won't have the strength to look elsewhere." "Mother!" Sosho hissed, then grinned. "Fine. If we are going to do this I suppose I need to do my part. It's not fair for you to have to do all the work." Together they laughed as they rocked on the bunk. The sight greeting Dent as he stepped through the curtain had him mesmerized by the second step. Sosho was sitting on the lower bunk with her legs curled beneath her. She had on one of his shirts and from what he could see nothing else. Uncurling like some big lazy cat she stepped to the deck and slowly walked toward him. Now that he could see all of her he was sure the shirt was all she had on. Her long slender legs with her dainty little feet were exciting but the gentle swaying of her breasts under the shirt soon gripped his full attention. Her hair fell loose and almost wild like, the type of wildness it sometimes took hours to perfect. She stopped in front of him, almost touching, looking up at him. Her doe-like eyes seemed to be twice their normal size and Dent felt himself sliding into their dark liquid embrace. Rising up on her toes he gasped as her breasts flattened against his chest until her lips covered his, halting any chance of sound escaping for the while. After what felt like hours she broke their kiss and settled back down on her feet. Reaching down to lightly hold her by the arms he continued to stare into her beautiful eyes. "Sosho," he said hoarsely, "you don't have to do this. We don't have to do..." She silenced him by pressing two fingers on his lips. "Am I your woman?" she asked simply. He could only nod. "Are you my man?" Since she hadn't removed her fingers he again could only nod. "Then your woman demands that her man take her to bed and give her what is hers by right." Taking her fingers away she placed both hands on his cheeks. "Dent," she started with a small quiver, "do you love me?" "Yes I do." His arms went around her back as he bent down to press his lips against hers. Pulling her up into his embrace she suddenly went wild in his arms. Jumping up she wrapped her legs around his waist and began forcing her tongue into his mouth all the while whimpering and groaning. Moving slowly he carried her over to the bunk. When his knees bumped the edge he broke their kiss and gently lowered her. As her legs released him and she lay back the shirt rode up on her body exposing the soft downy fur of her pussy and the beautiful pale pink lips just poking out from the sparse growth. As she lay back on the bunk, legs spread wide, she smiled and looked at him through half-lidded eyes. Slowly she began to shimmy and his shirt was suddenly, magically, over her head and flung to the deck. He could only stare at the vision below. An almost perfect copy of her mother, maybe a little slimmer and firmer, her dark mane of hair flung out like a halo around her head, she was so beautiful he actually had trouble breathing. Again moving like a graceful cat, eyes locked to his, she rolled and came up on her knees. Reaching out she began to untie his trousers, loosening them so that she could lift his shirt over his head. The shirt going over his head caused him to lift his eyes up for just a moment and he caught Nesho staring at him from the top bunk, a small smile on her lips. A tear rolled down one cheek as she brought her fingers to her lips then reached out to press them to his. Then her smile widened and she closed her eyes pretending to sleep. While this was going on Sosho continued to work at his trousers, pushing both them and his small clothes down until his cock sprang free almost hitting her in the face. She paused from working on his clothes as she studied his tool just inches from her eyes. Seeing a small drop of pre-cum forming on the tip her mouth slowly opened and her tiny pink tongue snaked out to capture the little translucent pearl. Lifting the tiny droplet on its tip she reclaimed her tongue and closing her eyes savored the taste of his essence. Moaning she leaned forward to capture the head and first two inches of his cock in her mouth as she began to softly suckle. The feeling was excruciatingly wonderful but when Dent felt himself about to cum he tried to push her away. She whimpered and with her fingernails digging into his ass refused to be moved. He bent down and whispered, "Sosho, I'm going to cum baby," and tried to push her away again. Instead of retreating like he thought she would she sucked even harder and began rubbing her tongue over the underside on his cockhead. Unable to contain himself any longer and unable to move her without more force than he was willing to use, the cum boiled up and out of his cock shooting into her mouth. As soon as she felt the first spurt hit the back of her throat Sosho remembered what her mother told her to do and backed it out until just the head was still trapped between her lips, his cum spewing and pooling on her tongue. Allowing his softening member to slip from her mouth she kept her lips together not wanting any of his seed to escape. She looked up into his eyes as he stood there panting heavily. She tasted him as she watched, feeling the slightly gooey and salty semen slide around in her mouth. The taste wasn't bad but it wasn't anything special. Suddenly it hit her. The taste was irrelevant, her pleasure irrelevant; what was important was that she had submitted to her man, taken him in her mouth and pleased him. She was his and he had now marked her as his own. She knew now her pleasure would be coming soon. It was inevitable; his using her would be pleasure if nothing else. She swallowed making sure he could see her doing it. His essence was now part of her, more would be soon but this she had taken and purposefully made part of her. He would take the rest of her just as she would freely give it, but this was her act of final submission. Shaking with pride and anticipation she quickly pushed his trousers down while he kicked off his boots. Soon he was naked as she was. Submissive once more she lay back and spread her legs, giving him everything of hers he could want. Softening only slightly after cuming in her mouth he instantly regained his full erection when he looked down and saw the look of simple adoration and surrender in his young cousin's face. Kneeling between her legs he leaned down and began kissing and nibbling on her neck, both sides. She squealed and giggled as his sucking lips and nipping teeth tickled her. Her giggles turned to moans as he started working his way down her chest until he could gently grasp one of her plump nipples in his mouth softly sucking on it as it grew bigger. He spent a long time on her breasts. Magnificent just like her mother's, they were a little smaller but slightly firmer. She whimpered and held his head as he mauled and suckled on her sensitive mounds. The sensations he created were driving her wild with need. She had never felt a man inside her before but instinct told her exactly what she needed to do. As he suckled and played with her tits she began thrusting up with her pelvis, trying to rub against him, anything to satisfy the craving she was feeling. "Fuck me, Dent," she moaned. "Fuck me now, lover!" Although he had never been with a virgin before he knew he wanted her as wet and needy as possible, besides he craved a taste of her sweet pussy. Releasing his hold on her nipples he began working his way down, planting small, light kisses on her stomach until he felt the light downy patch of pubic hair. Pushing her legs farther apart he started to nibble and lick the dewy moisture from her plump pink lips while she moaned and thrashed beneath him. Finally she screamed and grabbed his hair pulling him up and onto her body as tears of joy poured down her cheeks. Finally he was on top of her, the head of his cock pulsing at the entrance to her cunt. Biting her lip she looked up at him and nodded. Slowly he began to push. She grimaced and whimpered, shutting her eyes tightly. He could tell this was hurting her but he didn't know what to do. He started to pull out when he felt someone shove his ass hard, pushing him completely into her. She screamed and began to softly cry. "Hold still," he heard. "She will be fine; just hold still." Leaning down Nesho put her lips next to her daughter's ear. "It's over now, baby. The worst part is over. Just lie still until you get used to him. Feel the ache seem to flow away? That's right, feel him in you, filling you up. Does it feel better now?" Sosho sniffed and nodded. "Good, now when you feel like it's time, move a little on his cock. He'll stay still, you move when you think you can." After a minute Sosho moved her pelvis slightly, then a little more, finally she moved it enough that an inch or two came out and went back in. A surprised look came over her face and suddenly she smiled, not so much a happy smile as a smile a cat with a mouse-tail sticking out of her mouth would have, almost predatory. "Now you, my love," Nesho whispered to Dent. "Start moving in her, slowly at first then more quickly as she tells you. You are both doing wonderfully!" As instructed Dent began to slowly thrust into Sosho, very slowly at first then as she became more visibly excited he went deeper and quicker. Within minutes they were both in a full-fledged rut, Dent banging down into her while Sosho tried to impale herself up on him. They were both far too excited to go on for long. Soon Sosho was shrieking and pulling Dent within her as he thrust deep and held it in while he emptied into her waiting womb. They rested like that for a few minutes still entangled, lightly kissing until finally Nesho slapped him on the ass and he moved over to the side. With a clean wet cloth she gently wiped her daughter's sex until the blood and spent semen were gone. Pushing Sosho's legs closed Nesho rolled her dazed daughter over next to the bulkhead and then pushed Dent up behind her until they spooned together. Looking up at the top bunk, she just shrugged, pulled off her nightshirt and climbed in behind him. ------- Chapter 16 Dent was getting used to waking up next to or entangled with a warm body but this morning there was something different. Lying on his back he felt not one body but two, one on each side. Sneaking a peek he could see Nesho splayed out half on top of him, head resting on his shoulder and one leg hooked over one of his. Twisting his head slightly he discovered Sosho in an almost identical position but on the opposite side. Both women were awake and staring at each other over his chest. When he moved they both tilted their heads up to look at him but soon returned to staring at each other. "Well," Sosho said breaking the silence. "It's my turn down here, Mother. What are you doing?" "If I remember correctly, darling," Nesho replied with just a hint of bite. "We agreed that at least one of us would sleep with him every night, not that it was limited to just one." "It's a bit crowded for all three of us, don't you think?" Sosho said with a falsely sweet voice. "Not at all," Nesho replied with the same catty voice. "Dent, are you uncomfortable?" "Ah, only if you two are going to fight. Otherwise I have to admit this not only feels comfortable but wonderful!" "Oh, so you like having two women in your bed do you?" Sosho rose up slightly her eyes narrowed and locked onto his. "You think you're man enough to keep two women happy in one bed?" "Sosho!" he sighed somewhat exasperated. "Man enough or not I'm still a man. Given the option of having one of the most beautiful women in the world in my bed or both of them of course I'm going to pick both. I may be a fool at times but I'm not crazy or stupid!" "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she said her frown melting into a mixture of confusion and desperate longing. "No I don't think you're beautiful, I know you're beautiful." Pulling her up towards him with his arm he was able to kiss her softly until the simple kiss started to become somewhat more heated. "None of that now, you two," Nesho chided. "We don't have time and besides unless I miss my guess your junior wife is probably a little sore this morning." "Ouch," Sosho moved her leg a little and grimaced. "I am a bit sore down there. Not that I'm not ready to go again if we can..." "I'm sorry baby!" Dent struggled to get up. "I didn't want to hurt you..." "Oh hush," Sosho said slapping his chest and pushing him down. "Of course I'm sore, you goof. What did you think would happen when you stuck that huge thing up where nothing has ever been before? Now shut up. I know you didn't want to hurt me but it's something that had to happen sooner or later. Besides, it will go away soon enough won't it, Mother?" "Of course dear, A few days and a few more times and it will be nothing more than an unpleasant memory. Maybe you can get him to kiss it and make it feel better tonight." "Hmm, sounds wonderful. What's this about junior wife?" "I think I can safely assume I will be senior wife, given both my age and being first with him. Besides, you may be my co-wife but you are still my daughter." "Don't I have a say in this?" Dent interjected. "No," came the simultaneous response. They hadn't even looked up at him. Sensing a losing position if he pursued this tack Dent decided there were some things he just shouldn't get involved with. "So you are both my wives now, are you?" he said. "Well, what would you call us, oh lord and master?" Nesho said glancing up at him. "Yes," Sosho chimed in, "are we your wives or just slaves you take to bed for comfort?" "Damn it, you know I love you both more than life itself," he said diffusing the situation as quickly as he could. "Are you my wives? I would be honored to be considered your husband. What I'm trying to ask, and doing it rather poorly I admit, is if you two really think of yourselves as my wives?" "Of course, dear," Nesho patted his chest again. "We may never say the vows in front of a priest but I'm very much afraid you have two wives whether you want them or not." "Strange," he mused as he snuggled down in the bunk drawing them in as tightly as he could without crushing. "Within a few short weeks I have gone from being as scared as I have ever been to being as happy as I could ever have imagined. Life can be very strange!" The next few days came as close to holidays as Dent had seen since their time aboard the Pinya. The weather was fair but breezy. The steady winds that should have sped them along were being offset slightly by the fact there were headwinds forcing them to tack more than the captain wanted. Having finished the repair and cleaning of the combat gear, Dent spent most of his time exercising, talking, playing games with the women or listening to Vel relate tales of distant lands he had visited in his misspent youth as he put it. For the most part this was done up on the piloting platform where Vel seemed to be rooted in place. He claimed with his watch crew split among three ships he was needed there almost continuously. "When do you expect to make port?" Dent asked one afternoon. Squinting as he gazed at the horizon Vel grunted. "Tomorrow, maybe the morning after. The winds are good but the Pinya wallows like a pig in these headwinds; slows us down." He was silent for a moment and then continued, "Garth died this morning." Festou had mentioned that when he delivered the noon meal to the women but had been in such a hurry he hadn't provided much detail. "I heard. I have to admit I'm surprised; I didn't hurt him that badly." "I find that difficult to believe," Vel snorted. "You can't tell me you didn't expect him to die from those injuries." Dent shrugged, he had hoped the fat sailor would die but he had also seen men with far worse injuries live through them and go on for many years. "Well he didn't die from what you did to him anyway. Somebody slit his throat sometime last night." "Hmm, well I'd be lying if I said I was sorry," Dent said. "Do you know who did it?" "Oh, I'll be investigating, I suppose. Hard to get too worked up about it, though. Whoever did it saved me the trouble of stretching a rope with him. He wasn't too popular to begin with and with the leaving his post and being a thief and all... That little fireball of yours wasn't out and about last night was she?" "Captain I can guarantee you she was in our berth all night." Dent almost grinned thinking about the night he had had. Sosho's tenderness hadn't lasted for even one night and once she discovered there was no pain involved had become insatiable, demanding either his cock or tongue inside her almost all night. On their second night together Nesho was amused and tolerated her greedy daughter's demand for his full attention but on the third put her foot down, hard. "You can either spend the night by yourself," she said, "or you can snuggle in beside us but it's my turn and you can't have him until I'm done!" Sosho pouted and whined like she had as a child but this time it wasn't an extra sweet or a pretty bauble she was trying to wheedle out of her mother. Nesho was willing to share but she had no intention of permanently relinquishing her place in bed. Only slightly cowed, Sosho watched hungrily as Dent first licked and then fucked her mother to a series of orgasms. Only after a weary and panting Nesho rolled onto her side did Sosho pounce on an equally weary Dent sucking his now flaccid cock into her mouth trying to bring him back to life. In a triumph of enthusiasm over skill she was able to get him erect again and rode him for two of her own orgasms and one of his. Dent was convinced this twofold female attention was going to kill him but gamely did his best to please both of his companions. Although he woke in the morning feeling tired and sore he soon came to find exhaustion was a small price to pay. Not only was the sex beyond his wildest boyhood dreams, he discovered just how pleasant two well-fucked women were to be around when awake. If he thought he had been pampered before it was nothing to what he experienced now. Neither one seemed able to be in the same room with him without either touching or rubbing up against him. He felt like some kind of Putram as they waited on him hand a foot, Nesho with a soft dreamy smile, Sosho with more of a predatory smirk. If his senses didn't tell him otherwise he would have been convinced he had died during one of the battles and was now in the heaven of myth. "Neither one were out last night," he repeated. "In fact I haven't heard either one even mention his name for days." "Well it could be an old enemy seeing his chance at last," Vel chuckled. "Or it might have been one of your women's many admirers paying him back. They seem to have a good number of my crew under their spell. Are you sure they aren't witches? I know at least a dozen men here that would gladly trade their ship's share to buy one or both from you. I wouldn't mind having the mother for myself. They are mother and daughter aren't they?" Dent slowly nodded. "Thought so. You know that only increases their value don't you? Almost as much as if they were sisters. I know! I know! They aren't for sale, but you can't blame an old man for trying. "Seeing the three of you together brings back memories of my home country. Back there it wasn't uncommon for master and servant -- we didn't call them slaves -- to be together and in love. In fact some of the best and longest lasting marriages were from just such a bond." "You never talk much about where you came from, Captain. What was it like?" "Ah well it's vastly different from up here, I'll tell you that. Much more land for one thing. You could travel for months inland and never see the sea. Vast grasslands with nary a tree to be seen for miles, forests so thick you'd swear the trees were blades of grass, and mountains so tall they reach higher than the clouds. A beautiful place it is." "It sounds, exciting. Why did you leave?" Suddenly Vel's face became an emotionless mask. "That's something I don't talk about. Suffice it to say that my reasons were twofold: First I had the sailor's wandering heart and second, my brother did something incredibly stupid. Stupid enough that it made living there impossible for my family. At least I assume my family's no longer there; I haven't heard from them in a long time. Enough of that, I don't wish to speak of it anymore. So tell me, have you decided what you're going to do when we reach Harv'el?" "Ah, yes," Dent floundered for a moment at the quick shift in subjects. "I think we will take your offer for release of contract. I don't know what we'll find but I'd rather not be tied down to any one thing right now." "Wise," Vel replied. "You may find that Harv'el is better than you expect. I've certainly seen a lot worse. Plenty of opportunities for someone bold enough to take the chance." "I hope so. If nothing else, someone should be hiring warriors. I'm just not sure what to expect. I've never lived where slaves were common. What will it be like for Nesho and Sosho? I know as their master I'm not supposed to worry about them but you know I do." "Aye, I can see that you do and after getting to know them a little better I can't fault you. Actually once they're marked Harv'el will be very safe for them, probably safer than for you. Jeevel is very strict when it comes to property and slaves are of course considered property, very valuable property. Theft or abuse of property is handled quickly and harshly. Once marked, your two little beauties could walk down the main street naked and no one would touch them. Of course you would be responsible for anything they did, so you might want to warn them to be somewhat circumspect, but for the most part they will be fine." "That's good to know. I can't say I'm happy about what has happened to us but all in all it has turned out better then I expected." "Fortunes of war, my young friend. You aren't what I expected either, although I consider myself lucky you were aboard that ship. Sometimes misfortune has a way of turning into good fortune. You certainly came out of this smelling of perfume with yourself and your ladies intact. That's no small feat. Although I must say I do believe you've been a bad influence on my crew." "How's that?" Dent said puzzled. "Not only do you have half the crew mooning over those women of yours but I've noticed them treating the captives like I've never seen before. The Bo'sun had to break up a fight just the other day when some young buck took exception to how the youngest one was being treated. Taken a fancy to her himself is what I think; wouldn't be surprised if he bids on her down at the block. In fact they're all in such good shape I wouldn't be surprised if they fetch double or more than what I would have normally expected." "I'm glad if my being here has helped them even that small amount," Dent sighed. "I never understood why you allowed them to be so abused, especially if you really considered them as valuable as you say you do." "Crew morale, mostly," Vel confessed. "It's difficult enough to keep these buggers in line without keeping them from their loot and pleasure after battle. It's customary for captives to be available to the crew. But now that I've seen the results of better treatment, maybe next time will be different. That is if I still want to stay in the business of course. Things have been heating up between Jeevel and Malshall; it may be too warm to be doing any raiding for a while. Jeevel pays well, but not enough if meeting with the likes of the Vengeance is going to be common. With what I made this trip I just may retire to something a little safer." "I'm certainly not going to try to dissuade you, Captain. This isn't the life I would prefer. I know the reasoning behind it but taking innocent and defenseless merchantmen just doesn't seem right to me." "Well the last one we took wasn't quite so defenseless now was it?" Vel chuckled as he slapped Dent on the back knocking his breath away momentarily. "Right or wrong, it's all part of war and politics. Would it be better somehow if we were part of Jeevel's navy doing it? Don't kid yourself, my young friend. I've seen the results of their boardings. You may think us vicious animals but compared to them we're little more than a pail of kittens." Dent just shrugged and taking his leave, returned to their tiny cabin. True to the captains prediction, the jutting peaks of Jeevel came into view the morning of the second day. The winds had changed blessing them with winds abeam for their final leg into the port of Harv'el. Spread out along the coast like lichen on the side of a rock, Harv'el was larger then Dent had expected. The red-tiled roofs baked prettily in the midday sun and various pastels used in staining the stucco building walls gave the feeling of festival time back in Salas. As with most things, it was prettier from a distance than up close. The piers were the first things he noticed. While there were more than he could count jutting out into the harbor, most were empty. And not just empty but the kind of empty that gives the feeling they had been that way for a while. So were the warehouses at the foot of the docks. The doors were gaping dark holes with very little, if any, activity noticeable. "So this is our new home?" Nesho said from behind Dent's shoulder. "For a while anyway," he said without turning. "It doesn't look very busy." "No, but then I don't know what it should look like. For all I know this could be one of their slow days." "True. Do you know what we are to do when we pull in?" "Yes," he said turning to her now. "You and Sosho need to be on deck when we dock. The Bo'sun will bring up the other captives. There will a representative from Jeevel coming onboard and we pay the tax and get you fitted with the salidin. Actually Vel has the tax taken care of and we have to pay for the salidin." Dent grimaced like he bit into something sour. "Now Master," Nesho laughed running her hand along his cheek. "I've talked to the Captain who seems to know quite a bit about these salidin things. He says they are really very safe and actually very pretty." "Yes and they are also very permanent!" he hissed. "More so than a tattoo?" she asked and Dent just shrugged. "Given the choice between the two, I'd rather have the salidin, thank you very much." "I wish I was smarter and could think of some way to keep you from having to make that choice," he sighed. "But I can't think of anything right now." "That's all right, sweet thing," Nesho said smiling. "We'll just keep our eyes open and maybe something will come up. If not there are much worse things that could happen to us." "I suppose so," he shook himself slightly. "Well be that as it may, the Captain asked me to oversee the collecting of the belongings for the dead men. I'm told its part of the Armsman's duties. There may be some poor relative who wants them and if not then the Sailors Guild can put them to good use. If you need me just send Festou, he should be able to find me fairly quickly." As predicted within minutes of making fast a parade of brightly clothed dignitaries complete with armed guards trooped up the gangplank to the Death Grip's main deck where they were met by Captain Vel. Nesho and Sosho were close enough they could hear most of the conversation. "So Garishnie, I see you're still Jeevel's chief lackey and tax collector." Captain Vel was talking to the leading figure in the colorful boarding party. "Watch your tongue, Vel!" the figure hissed back. "I am his Excellencies' personal representative; you will address me as you would he himself!" "Yes, yes, to be sure, all honor and glory to his most exalted Excellency, the Putram of Jeevel." Waving his hand Vel seemed to be less than awed by His Excellency and even less so by his personal representative. Not surprising since Garishnie was short and fat with long oiled hair that looked more dirty and unkempt than was then in fashion. Even at this distance Nesho could smell his sickly sweet perfume attempting to hide the stench of rancid olive oil. "That's better, Vel," Garishnie sneered. "Now what are you bringing in today?" "Two prizes: you can see them docking now, cargo, arms and about twenty-five slaves in all, fourteen females here on the Grip and eleven males on the other two. I also have forty-some hostages that will be ransomed to Malshall at the earliest opportunity." "Hostages? What do you mean, hostages? There's nothing in the provisions for hostages. You either have slaves or crew, nothing more!" "Well now I have more. See that second ship over there? Look familiar? Well it should it's the Vengeance Mine, the Malshallian frigate. I not only have the ship but most of the crew and captain. I'm thinking the Malshall would like to have one of his nobles and a couple dozen trained fighters back, probably for a lot more than what I could get for them as slaves. If you want to consider them as part of my crew then more power to you, but I don't intend to put them on the block." The argument continued in this vein for a fair amount of time. Nesho couldn't understand most of it since it seemed to consist mainly of hand gestures and screaming by the Putram's man and smiles and shaking of the head by Vel. Finally Garishnie apparently gave up or decided to pass this particular problem up to his superiors. He raised his hands and pointed toward the large palace-like building set on the top of a hill in the middle of town. Vel nodded and shrugged after which Garishnie made a violent gesture as if to say continue and Vel called for the Bo'sun to bring the captives out. As they marched out on deck in a single line Nesho noted the difference between their present condition and what she had seen just days after their capture. Nesho had stayed in almost daily contact with the captive women, tending to their injuries and general well being. Although she mentioned it in passing to Dent, it wasn't something she elaborated on. Knowing how much his inability to help them hurt, she felt this was something she could and would keep to herself. At first it had been horrible, every single one had been repeatedly raped and if that wasn't bad enough they were kept in the slaves' quarters between these assaults, a crowed, dingy and almost airless hole. Using the considerable protection afforded as Dent's property she mercilessly harassed the Bo'sun to provide clean water, clothing and food at least twice per day. She couldn't do anything about the rapes but had noted the frequency and viciousness had decreased considerably since those first days, especially after the incident with Sosho and Garth. Vel's observation that some of the crew seemed to be bonding with a few of the captives was accurate as were most of Vel's observations. The youngest one's eyes constantly returned to a young sailor who looked to be casually resting against the railing. There was nothing casual about how his eyes remained riveted to her and her surroundings. Nesho had to agree with Vel: It was highly probable that this one would be bidding on the young girl with his considerable ship's share and it was unlikely he would be out-bid. Given the horror they had gone through their condition was remarkably good. They were at least clean and fed. Some stood there with heads bowed in resignation, some showed eyes darting around in fear while others had the blank vacant stare of the mentally deranged. Nesho felt the most for them but worried the least. These had found their escape; in some ways they were the lucky ones. Garishnie walked down the line checking them off his list as he went muttering to himself and occasionally reaching out to lift and tilt a chin or to fondle a breast or hip. Standing back he nodded slightly and waved to three men holding a board with a padded headrest. The three brought the contraption over and Garishnie pointed to the first woman in line. Two of the men grabbed her arms and pulled her over where they strapped her to the board. The headrest had padded restraints which were placed on either side of her head and tightened rendering her immobile. The third picked up needle and bowl of dye and knelt down next to her head. "Be still now," he said, "this will hurt but it'll be over soon enough." With that he began jabbing the needle causing blood to well up on her forehead. She began crying immediately but the constraints prevented any motion. True to his word the tattooist was soon done with the needle and began rubbing the dye into the wounds. [0]Within minutes he was wiping the excess off her head and motioning for the others to release her. The tattooist and his assistants quickly worked their way through the twelve until the last was almost done. "Vel," called Garishnie after a moment. "You have fourteen slaves listed but only twelve here. Where are the other two." "That's Captain Vel and they're standing over there," Vel pointed to Nesho and Sosho. "So why aren't they in line? I haven't got all day. Get them over here and get them marked." "They belong to the ship's Armsman and he wants salidin for them not tattoos." "Let me see," Garishnie walked over and appraised the two with frank admiration. A sly smile curled his lips slightly. "Salidin? I don't think so. I have no time for such nonsense." Gesturing to the tattooist he continued, "Mark these two and we can continue with the cargo." The two assistants started toward Nesho until Vel waved them back. Movement on the deck came to a sudden halt as the sailors in the area stopped what they were doing and watched the confrontation, anticipation and expectation evident in their stance. "You must not have heard me, Garishnie," Vel said quietly. "Their owner, my ship's Armsman, was very specific: He said salidin and I'm sure he meant it." "And I say I don't have time for this," Garishnie sneered. "I don't care what your Armsman wants, this is what he'll get." "Then I think you better discuss that with him," Vel grinned. "Festou! Festou! Where are you, you two-legged rat? Ah there you are. Go get the Armsman. Tell him there seems to be a problem with his servants. I'm sure he'll want to deal with it personally." Festou was off at a dead run. "Again I say I don't care what your Armsman wants, this is what will be!" Garishnie shouted turning red in the face. "I think ye'll probably be caring here in a little bit," chuckled one of the sailors standing near. It was Dell, the older sailor. "Fucking idiot," grumbled another from nearby. Most of the others started laughing as they leaned back to watch the show. "Just so it can't be said I didn't warn you," Vel interjected, still grinning, "my Armsman happens to be a Warrior under contract and he is, ah, somewhat protective of his property, especially these two. Since it's his right to have them fitted with salidin, it would be best for you to just go ahead and get it over with." "And I'm telling you I'm His Excellency's representative and what I say will be done!" Garishnie was shouting now and the guards he brought with him were looking around uneasily. The muttering and whispering on the deck suddenly stopped and everyone turned to see the figure striding across the deck with Festou moving around him like a piece of flotsam caught in a tidal surge. Dent had been working below decks gathering the personal belongings of the dead from the various berthing compartments and baggage holds. Although it was not a particularly hot day it was warm down below and to keep the sweat from staining his shirt he had stripped to the waist. The faint sheen of sweat over rippling muscle was impressive enough but added to that the white pucker of old scars and the bright pink of new ones made for one very imposing picture. He didn't have his sword with him but the ever-present dirk was strapped to his right hip. "What seems to be the problem, Captain?" Instead of answering, Vel just pointed to Garishnie and smiled. Turning toward the representative he raised his eyebrows in question and waited. "See here, you," Garishnie started, a little less self-assured than moments before. "I don't have time for any nonsense. These slaves must be marked and I'm ordering it done!" "It was my understanding that I have the option of either having them marked or having them fitted with the collar." Dent crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the fat dandy. "Since I have that option and am willing to pay for it, I choose the collar. What's to decide?" "Well I don't have any salidin here and it'll take too much time to send for that old faker to bring them." "I have plenty of time. I assure you neither me nor my servants will leave the ship until everything has been properly taken care of." "Your assurance means nothing to me. I say it will be done now! Guards, take these two bitches and have them properly marked!" Garishnie turned slightly and waved at the three guards. As he waved they started to move forward drawing their swords but before they could take even one step Garishnie felt a sharp prick under his chin. Looking down he saw Dent's dirk resting at his neck. Wide-eyed he looked up into Dent's ice blue eyes, his face a hard and emotionless mask. The guards froze when they saw their master inches away from death. "Y-y-you can't do this to me!" Garishnie blubbered. "I'm His Excellency's personal representative!" "Oh I can, and I will," came Dent's flat reply. "Now there are a number of ways we can handle this. Captain, am I correct in assuming there is a Guild Hall in this city?" "Certainly," Vel's grin got even bigger. "Then I can send for a Guild Steward to adjudicate this little misunderstanding, after which I will kill you. Or I can kill you and then send for the Steward." Pausing as if to reflect on a third option Dent continued, "Of course we could send for the person who has the salidin, have my women fitted as is my right under your law and forget this ever took place. Difficult decision isn't it? I prefer the first option myself but the second is looking better all the time. But I'm feeling generous today so I'm going to let you decide. So what will it be? Death later, death now, or maybe a chance to live?" "You can't kill me! You'd never get away with it!" "Garishnie," Vel interrupted, "don't be any more of an ass than you have to be. Believe me, not only can he kill you but your three pretty boys would also be dead before your body hit the deck. After which he'd call in the Guild, they would investigate and probably demand an apology from Jeevel, which they would get. So unless you've suddenly grown tired of living I'd suggest you send for the O'Tech priest and have this done." "Very well," Garishnie hissed through clenched teeth. "But I protest this treatment. The Putram will hear of this!" "Protest noted," Dent said as he lowered the dirk. "You always have the option of lodging a grievance against me with the Guild Steward." "Don't think I won't," Garshnie growled. Turning to one of his guards he shouted, "You, go fetch that damned priest. Tell him I want him here as fast as his puny little legs can move." The guard saluted and after a nervous look at Dent left the ship and practically started running up the dock. "There! I hope you're satisfied now!" Garishnie spat. "Now maybe we can get on with assessing the rest of your cargo, Captain!" "Certainly," Vel said still grinning. "You have our inventory there broken down by vessel. If you would come this way we can go down to the holds and begin your inspection." Without another word Garishnie turned and stomped off toward the holds. Giving Dent a little salute Vel followed the assessor, humming a little tune. Turning back to Nesho, Dent mused, "I wonder what that was all about?" Nesho just shrugged while Sosho came over and hugged him tightly. "You could have been killed," she sniffed. "I don't think so," he said giving her a little squeeze. "I don't know why he was so set on having you two marked instead of getting the salidin but that's settled at least for now." "It was still foolish putting yourself at risk just to save us from getting a simple tattoo," Nesho chided. "Nonsense! I was never in any real danger, not much anyway," he admitted. "Besides, there are some things that are worth taking a little risk for. Having the two most beautiful faces I've ever seen remain unmarked is certainly one of them." "You are a sweet-talking devil," Nesho said punching him lightly on the arm. "Even if you don't mean it." "Of course I mean it," he said seriously. "Anyway, we've never been able to afford you two any of the pretty jewelry or nice things you deserve. Now maybe at least you'll get a beautiful necklace to wear." "Anything has to be better than getting a tattoo," Sosho said from the shelter of his arm. "That looked like it really hurt!" They waited around on deck not knowing what to expect, Dent refusing to leave them after the incident. He asked Nesho if she was carrying their money and she patted a pocket in her skirt, which jingled with their coin. Vel had given Dent his partial payout; the remainder was subject to the assessment and auctions but it was still a considerable sum. Nesho protested she shouldn't have it but he waved her off saying he needed to be unencumbered in case something happened. "I only need a few silvers or coppers to carry around," he stated. "But what if someone were to take me?" she asked. "Then all our money would be gone." "If someone were to take you," he replied calmly, "they would have taken my heart; the money I don't care about." With misty eyes and a sly smile she grabbed him by the ears and gave him a hard passionate kiss right there on the main deck. The cheers and catcalls from the working sailors made him blush. "You are so getting laid tonight," she whispered as she broke their embrace. "I am going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before." "And when she's done, it's going to be my turn," Sosho grinned still hanging on under the protection of his arm. "Gods give me strength!" was all he could say. Soon enough they noticed the guard walking back up the dock with an elderly gentleman in tow. When they boarded the ship the guard pointed at the three and rushed off to find his master. With a smile of one who hasn't a care in the world the old man strolled over and after a nod to the two women stuck his hand out for Dent to grasp. "Good day, young sir. Am I to assume correctly that you are the one who wants the salidin fitted on a couple of lovely young ladies?" "Yes sir, I'm Dent and this is Nesho and Sosho." "Excellent! I'm Don teNeigho the O'Tech Technician for Harv'el, for all of Jeevel really but saying one really says the other." It was impossible not to like the old gentleman; his smile was infectious and he practically bubbled with warmth and enthusiasm. "Now, may I ask, are you familiar with the salidin or did you just want an alternative to the mark?" "Ah, to be honest we didn't want the tattoo." It was difficult not to blurt out everything to him; he was too much like what everyone would wish a grandfather to be. "Really, we didn't want anything but I guess that's not an option here." "I'm afraid it's not, but never fear I think you will be very happy once we get them fitted and activated. Now not to be crass but do you have the money? That will be two gold apiece." "Hmm that's more that we were told it was, but still worth it. Nesho?" Don teNeigho grinned widely when he saw Nesho reach for her pocket. "You already trust her with your gold?" "I trust her with my life, why not my gold?" "Oh, most excellent then! Yes this will be a very good match! I am correct in assuming that you two have a relationship then?" "Ah, actually," Dent blushed slightly, "the three of us do." "Even better! Oh to be young again and with two such beauties." Now Nesho and Sosho were blushing right along with Dent. "Well, no need to waste time." While he was talking he was reaching into the bag carried at his side and pulled out three boxes, two long and skinny and the other larger and squat. Opening the larger he pulled out slightly smaller pewter-colored metal box with a small depression on the top. Setting that box aside he next opened one of the skinnier boxes and drew out a flat band of metal about twenty inches in length and an inch wide. It was plain and the same dull pewter color as the first box. Although it looked like a flat metal bar it flexed and folded like a stiff piece of cloth. Noticing the frown Sosho was giving the thing, Don teNeigho turned to her grinning that infectious grin of his and said, "What's the matter, little lady? Not quite what you expected?" "Ah, well, ah, it's just that Captain Vel said it would be pretty! And that's not..." "Pretty?" he said still grinning. "Just you wait, lass. I think we can change your mind about your little necklace. Here, who's to be first?" With that Nesho took a step forward and held her head up stoically. "It's not going to hurt, is it?" Sosho asked haltingly. "You not at all, my little beauty and your master very little," he chuckled. "My master? Oh you mean Dent. How is it going to hurt him?" "Just a little blood, my dear, and from the looks of him losing a little blood won't be a new experience for him." Don teNeigho picked up the salidin and stood behind Nesho. "Would you like to do this, Dent? Where I come from it's considered an honor to be the one fitting the salidin. I assure you it won't hurt her a bit." Nodding Dent came over and took the metal band from the old technician. It felt warm in his hand, almost alive. "Now hold it by the ends and wrap it around her neck. That's it, let the ends overlap. Would you hold your hair up, young lady? Very good." As he wrapped the band around her neck Dent could swear it began to pulse and as the ends of the band overlapped they began to flow together, melting into each other until there was one seamless band around Nesho's neck. "How does that feel? Are you all right?" he asked. "I'm fine," she answered. "It's, ah, warm." Her hand went up to feel the ring around her neck. "Now to activate it," Don teNeigho said. "Dent, give me your hand please. I need a little of your blood so I'm going to prick your thumb if that's all right." When Dent nodded his assent, Don drew a long sharp needle from his bag and jabbed Dent's right thumb and a large drop of blood welled out. Taking Dent's thumb Don pressed it against Nesho's salidin smearing the blood over the surface. "Good, now to finish." Picking up the larger box he held it next to Nesho's neck and pressed his own thumb in a small depression on its face. Instantly the blood on Nesho's salidin disappeared as if it were soaking into a sponge and both the collar and the box turned a rich golden color. Both shimmered and colors like the sheen of oil on calm water began to flow across the surface of both. "Oh my!" Nesho gasped. "Are you all right?" Dent asked worriedly. "I'm fine, darling. It's just -- well, I don't know how to explain it -- I've never felt like this before." "Like part of you is looking for something?" Don interjected. "Yes, but no, like part of me has found something," turning to Dent wide-eyed, "It's you! You're what I'm looking for, and now I've found you." "That's the link being formed," Don said. "That was quick, quicker than I've ever seen before, but then you had an emotional bond even before you were fitted. Oh now this is interesting," Don peered at the colors drifting across the face of the box. "You're pregnant, and it's his child; no wonder the link took so quickly. The child is also a physical bond between you two. Fascinating. I don't see this very often. I really must remember to write down my observations when I get home. Congratulations." "Ah, well I don't know. I mean I suspected," Nesho babbled. "That wasn't a question woman," he said peering over at her. "You are pregnant and it is his child." "Nesho!" Dent cried. "This is wonderful!" Nesho cried into his shoulder. "Yes, yes, this is all very nice," Don said, "but we still need to finish here. You're done, my dear. Now if you would step over there while I finish with your... sister? No my guess is daughter. Ah so I'm again correct. Amazing what a few years will do for your wisdom. Now come here, child. Let's get you fitted." "Momma," Sosho said in a tiny voice, "I'm scared." "Oh no, baby," Nesho smiled, her eyes slightly glazed. "This is wonderful! There's nothing to be frightened of." As with Nesho, Dent wrapped the salidin around Sosho's neck until it became one seamless band. Don teNeigho pricked Dent's thumb again and smeared the blood over the band. This time when it was activated Sosho stared off in the distance for a few moments before turning to Dent and wrapped her arms around him. "Yes, a little bit longer but still quicker than I've ever seen before. Well, congratulations, young master. These two are now bound to you. "Just a few points before I go: The salidin can never be removed; if it is then the wearer will die. They cannot lie to you, nor can they do anything they know you wouldn't want them to do. If you tell them to do something they will be compelled to do it, so be careful what you say. There are other things but these are the most important. Hopefully we'll get a chance to talk about the rest over a nice pot of ale some day soon. Oh say hello to that young reprobate, Torken, for me. Tell him I hope to see him soon. In fact I expect him tonight for dinner; he knows where." "You know the Captain?" Dent asked redundantly. "Oh my yes, old, old friends. Know him from the old country, you see. Grew up in the town right next to his, as a matter of fact. Well I must be off. He probably has that awful Garishnie with him and that's one person I have no desire to see. Oh by the way, your ladies will be somewhat distracted for the next few hours; nothing to worry about, perfectly normal. They'll be good as new soon, better than new actually," he chuckled. "Fare you well, young Dent. Hopefully we'll meet again soon." With that he quickly gathered up his boxes, stuffed them in his bag and scurried off the ship. Dent stood almost dumbstruck watching the lone figure striding off at a pace that put lie to his apparent age. ------- Chapter 17 "Distracted" was as good a description as any for the way the women acted. They all waited on deck for the captain and the inspection team to return. Nesho just sat there staring at him with a small smile and a dreamy look on her face. Every once in a while she would touch her stomach as if feeling the baby within. Sosho giggled and grinned, every once in a while getting up to hug him and rest her head on either his chest or back all the while caressing his bare skin with her fingers. It kept Dent in a state of distraction as well. After a while the inspection party returned to the main deck. Garishnie spoke briefly with Captain Vel and turned to go. As he passed by, he gave Dent and the women a nasty look that turned downright hateful when he saw the salidin around their necks but didn't say a word as he stomped past and off the brow down to the dock. With a grin that almost broke his face Vel sauntered over to the three. "I don't think I've ever seen him in such a foul temper," he chuckled. "Does my heart good to see that fat bastard brought down a notch or two." "I take it you're not exactly friends," Dent replied. "Not exactly," Vel watched the inspection team hurry down the dock and into the city. "I've hated that ass since I first laid eyes on him, which doesn't exactly put me in an exclusive club by any means. Unfortunately he's a friend of the Putram, procures his personal slaves for him and from what I've heard His Excellency goes through a lot of slaves. Rumor has it he's a bit hard on his toys. "Watch that one though. You've made a powerful enemy there, which isn't all bad actually. Being hated by Garishnie will make you plenty of friends in Harv'el for no better reason than that, but he's a snake that needs to be watched. Enough of that turd, let's have a look at your beauties here." Vel looked at the salidin and the colors still playing over the surface then he looked in their eyes. "Very nice! It looks like a complete bonding, very strong. Congratulations! I've seen many of these fittings and this is the quickest I've seen the bond form." "Don teNeigho said the very same thing." "Oh, that old geezer still around? I thought they would have recalled him by now. Well I just might have to make a call on him soon." "Actually he said he expected you for dinner tonight. He said you'd know where to find him." "Oh aye, that I do. Well I just may do that. Anyway what are your plans now?" "Well," Dent said, "I still need to finish gathering the crew's belongings as you wanted and then I thought we'd take a look around town. I probably should check in with Guild Hall first, and then we'll look for a place to stay. Not that we don't appreciate the space on your ship, but it'll be nice to sleep on something that doesn't move quite so much." "You mean as opposed to your ladies?" When Dent blushed, Vel laughed. "Aye, I can understand. I'll probably be sleeping ashore tonight myself, and I don't intend to be alone either. Why don't you finish gathering up that gear for the Sailor's Guild to pick up? It would certainly help me out. Have your girls pack your baggage, then come up to my cabin and we'll take care of your contract." "I'll do that. What about my gear on the Pinya?" "Won't be available until at best tomorrow, maybe the day after. Get a place to stay and we can have it sent there." "Very good, Captain, I'll see you shortly." Dropping the women off in the cabin Dent left after they assured him they were perfectly capable of packing their small amount of belongings. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Do you feel all right? Does that bother you at all?" Reaching up as one both Nesho and Sosho touched their salidin. "Bother me?" Nesho smiled. "No, it doesn't bother me. In fact it feels good... right somehow." Sosho nodded vigorously in agreement. "All right, then I'll leave you two to pack. I'll get this little job done, we'll stop to see the captain and then we'll be off. Oh hello, Festou." he almost collided with the boy when he turned to leave. "The captain says I can help the mistresses get ready to leave if that's all right with you, Mr. Dent Sir." "Certainly, Festou. I'm sure they would appreciate any help you could give them. Well I'll be off now. See you soon." He gave them both a kiss and with a wave was off. After he left Nesho turned to Festou and smiled. "Why the sad face, Festou?" The boy looked like he was about to cry. "Sorry to see ya go, I am," he sniffed. "You and the master be the only ones who didn't treat me bad. Miss you and Mistress Sosho I will, and Mr. Dent Sir, of course." Nesho bent down and hugged him; he was after all still just a little boy for all his living in a sailor's world. "We're going to miss you too, you little scamp," she said trying to keep her own eyes from tearing. "But we won't be going very far and I think I heard the ship will be in port for a while yet. There's no reason why you couldn't come to visit now and then." "You think the captain'll let me, mistress?" Hope suddenly lit up his eyes. "I don't see why not. We'll see him in a little while and we can ask then." "That'd be wonderful, mistress!" Afterward he tried "helping" them gather their belongings together. Naturally he created twice the work but neither of them had the heart to chase him away. Finally, in spite of their enthusiastic assistant, they had everything packed with the exception of Dent's armor. "I don't know what to pack it in, Momma," Sosho said, "and I'm not sure we could carry it even if I did." "Don't worry about it now. Let Dent figure it out when he gets back." "Figure out what?" Dent walked in just as she finished speaking." "Oh good! You're back, dear." Walking up to him she wrapped her arms around and gave him a smoldering kiss. As she released him, Sosho was there to give him another. "Whew," he said feeling a bit wobbly. "I might have to leave more often if this is the greeting I get coming back." "Don't you dare!" Sosho demanded. "Well all right I guess I'll have to stay then," he said grinning. "Now what is this I need to figure out?" "What to do with your armor. We don't know how to pack it and I'm not sure we could carry it even if we did." "You're not carrying anything at all, not in your condition!" "Oh you goof," she said snuggling up next to him. "I'm perfectly fine. It'll be a long time before I can't carry what little we have." "Condition? What condition?" Festou blurted out. "Oh goodness that's right! I almost forgot!" Sosho squealed. "How could I? If you must know Festou, Nesho is going to have a baby!" "Now ain't that something," he said wide-eyed. "A baby! I'll carry your pack for ya, mistress!" "Now you just stop. Like I said I'm perfectly all right." She harrumphed a little and said, "You men act like women never had babies before. I can assure you it's perfectly natural and I know exactly what I can and can't do." "Well we'll see," Dent interjected. "As far as the armor goes, I'll wear it. I know Vel said Harv'el is safe but it can't hurt to let everyone out there know we won't be trifled with." "I'm sure your right, dear. Now if you're going to wear it maybe you should get in on. The sooner you're ready the sooner we can go." "Anxious to leave?" "Yes, I guess I am. Aren't you?" "I suppose," he said staring at their bunk. "But I'm going to miss parts of it." Nesho at least had the decency to blush, which made Sosho laugh. Festou looked puzzled but laughed along with her anyway. Giving her daughter a stern look, which of course only made Sosho giggle harder, Nesho pushed Dent towards his gear but only after leaning near and whispering in his ear, "I'm going to miss that part too." With a grin he turned and started donning his equipment. Soon he was done and with a quick nod of satisfaction, led them out. It took a few minutes as every sailor present in the compartment had to stop them and tell them how much they were sorry to see them go and wish them well. Finally they were done and out on the main deck again. "Do you want to come up to the captain's cabin with me or stay down here?" he asked. "I'll come if it's not too much trouble," Nesho said. "You're not going anywhere without me," Sosho added. "You promised, mistress," Festou whined to Nesho. "Huh? Promised what?" Dent asked. "I promised we would ask if Festou could be allowed to visit us after we find a place to stay." "Oh, sure, that'd be fine, so long as the captain approves. Let's get up there now. Leave the packs down here; I don't think anyone will bother them." "So you're ready to leave us are you?" The captain's cabin was a bit crowded with the five of them. "Festou, what are you doing here, you little monster? Don't you have something to do? If not, I'm sure the bo'sun can find something to keep you occupied." "Captain," Nesho said softly, "we were wondering if it would be possible for Festou to visit us sometime, once we find a place to stay of course. I'm sure he would be a tremendous help settling in in a strange town and all that." "Ha, that little bilge rat doesn't know any more about Harv'el than you do," but he smiled and scratched his beard. "He is the Grip's ship's boy and as such can't be neglecting his duties. But I suppose if he gets his work done and he doesn't bother you greatly then some time could be found. Mind you now," he said looking at Nesho sternly, "you've been kind to the little bugger and you may find it harder to get rid of him than a cough in rainy season." "I don't think that will be a problem, Captain," she replied smiling. "Thank you." "We'll see if you thank me when he becomes such a pest he drives you crazy. Be that as it may, be off with you, foul beast! If I see that hide of yours before supper I'll be taking it off with a whip myself!" "Yes, Captain!" With a thankful grin at Nesho and a wink for Sosho, Festou preformed his magic and disappeared from their sight like mist evaporating in the morning sun. "Yes, well I hope you know what you've put yourself in for woman," Vel grumped. "You've got an admirer there you may not be able to shake off. I'm not joking when I say he'll be a pest." "He's a little boy looking for a mother, Captain," Nesho chided. "If he looks to me for that comfort for a time, I can assure you it won't be a problem." "Remember he's a member of my crew, woman." "Yes Captain, but he's still a little boy for all that." "Well if you spoil him for real work, I just may punish you by giving him to you for good." "A little spoiling won't hurt and if you did we would be proud to have him." "Hmm." Glancing at Dent Vel said, "Can't get much up or around her, can you?" "I wouldn't know, Captain. I never have and never expect too," Dent smiled. "You going to let her do your talking for you? Some may think less of you for that." "I find life easier when she does what she thinks best. If that causes problems with others then I guess I can take care of that when it happens," Dent said shrugging. "I suppose you will, youngster. Your problem now anyway." Turning to his desk Vel picked up a handful of papers and handed them to Dent. "Here's your contract. Signed and sealed as satisfactorily completed. You're your own man now." Standing, he stuck his hand out to Dent. "I know we didn't start out under the best of circumstances but I was glad to have you aboard." "I have to admit, Captain, I tried my best to dislike you but I would be proud to call you my friend if you would allow it." Dent took the offered hand and clasped it firmly. "Yes, well I don't count many as friends but I'll allow I've grown to enjoy your company and your ladies of course. If there's anything you need in the future don't be afraid to ask. "Now you had better be off if you plan to find a place to stay today. If you want some advice, don't hesitate to use one of the wharf-rats hanging around the docks as a guide. They may try to cheat you blind but they won't steal from you and can be trusted for the most part if you pay them what you promise. Oh, here is the receipt for the port tax on the women. Keep it in a safe place; Garishnie isn't to be trusted." "Thank you, Captain. I'll take your advice and you are right, we must be off if we're going to get anything done today. By your leave, Captain?" Dent stopped for a moment at the end of the gangplank. The wooden dock was solid beneath his feet but for some reason it still felt like they were rocking on the ocean. Nesho and Sosho were standing a little unsteadily themselves, obviously feeling the same. "Don't let it bother ye, warrior." Dent turned and saw Dell hopping off the brow next to them. He was grinning at their discomfort. "It's called getting yur land legs; happens to everyone. Soon ye will feel just like ye should." With a wave he strode off down the dock. "Thank you, Seaman Dell, I'll remember that." "Well," he said looking back at the women, "What should we do now? I was thinking I should check into the Guild Hall first. Get that out of the way and maybe they would have a suggestion as to where might be a good place to stay." "It's as good a plan as any, love," Nesho said looking around. "But how do we find it? Ask around, I suppose?" "It's going to be in town somewhere I would assume," he replied. "We can ask as we go. Might as well get walking. Here, let me take your pack." "Dent," Nesho said, exasperated, "we've already talked about this. I am perfectly capable of carrying this small bundle and it wouldn't look good for you to be carrying anything for your slave. Now stop being a rock-head and get moving. We'll follow right behind." He opened his mouth to argue but she narrowed her eyes and frowned. Realizing he couldn't possibly win he just sighed and started walking up the dock toward town. With a little harrumph, a nod of the head and a sly smile Nesho shouldered her pack, gestured to Sosho and started walking behind him. Sosho looked around nervously, adjusted her own pack and ran to grab Dent by the belt and followed him like a pack mule behind the lead horse. The wood of the dock made way to the cobblestone of a street and just then they found themselves surrounded by a pack of five or six young men -- boys really -- offering themselves a guides to whatever pleasure Dent might want. Each one of them had a slave mark on their forehead although each one was slightly different. Some more colorful and intricate in their design but each more highly decorated than the simple mark tattooed on the female captives that morning. "Best ale in town, honored sir!" one shouted. "Softest bed and the most beautiful women!" said another. Waving them away Dent picked out one that looked to be one of the youngest, or at least the smallest. "You, yes you! Do you know where the Guild Hall is?" "You be talking about the Sailor's Guild, lord," the youngster stammered. "No, I mean the Warriors Guild. Do I look like a sailor to you?" Standing there in his half-plate armor, weapons at his side and helmet hanging by a strap on his back, he couldn't look less a sailor if he had tried. "No Lord! Of course not, Lord! Yes, I know the Guild Hall and yes, I can show you." "Fine. How much?" "One small silver, Lord. Just one tiny silver." "A copper and not one bit more," Nesho interrupted. "A copper? I couldn't for just..." Looking up a Nesho with a pitiful expression he noticed the salidin around her neck and suddenly his eyes grew large and round. Looking quickly back at Dent, who just raised his eyebrows and smiled, and then at Nesho, he dropped the pitiful act and straightened up. "Well maybe I could for just a copper, mistress, but..." "I'm sure if you can't somebody else here can," Nesho said looking around at the other boys. "Done!" he shouted. "Good," she smiled. "And maybe if you do a good job getting us to the Hall we may want you to guide us for the rest of the day, for a silver." "Oh yes, mistress! You can be sure I'll get you wherever you want to go! Food, bed and comfort... wWhatever the Lord and his ladies would need!" "And just who are we dealing with, my little man," she smiled. "Barth tor'Vilia mistress." "Well Barth tor'Vilia this is Warrior Dent, I am Nesho, his servant, and this is Sosho, also his servant." "Just call me Barth please, mistress, and Lord Dent, if you'll follow me, I can lead you to Guild hall right away. It'll only take a few minutes." Turning, he began walking, hoping to hurry before his strange companions could change their minds. Barth couldn't believe his luck: A copper for what was only a moment's work was fortunate but a silver for one day was unheard of! No funny stuff with this group though, not with him being a warrior and all that. Not that he didn't seem like an upright fellow and all that, but one heard the stories and, well it just didn't pay to take chances. Especially with that bitch of his around! She's sharp enough to drive holes through a body just by looking at him. Pretty enough true, for an old woman, almost as pretty as the piece of fluff hanging onto his belt, but she worn't nobody you wanted to cross with, that's for sure! So what if she was a slave same as him; she wasn't like him, nor like anybody else he knew either. Salidin! Unbelievable, he'd seen maybe three salidin before in his life, and all around the necks of the personal property of some high-born, really high-born, nobles. Them things cost gold, real gold, and this here warrior lord had two of them for his own doxies! No questions about it: she was not only valuable, she was dangerous! Making sure he didn't walk too fast for them to keep up, Barth kept up a constant stream of chatter as they progressed up the street. Pointing out the good alehouses and the bad ("They charge too much and water the ale."), inns, trade-houses, government offices and a brothel. Having said this last he looked back nervously. Nesho had a bemused expression, Sosho was laughing and Dent just snorted. Shortly they came to a square with four large buildings. Without even slowing down, Barth led them across the square and up the steps of the largest and plainest of the four. Even without their guide, or the crossed swords above the entranceway, Dent would have recognized the Guild Hall. It looked exactly like the one in Salas; in fact it looked exactly like every Guild Hall ever built. Barth stopped at the door and waited for the other three to catch up. "Here it is, Lord: Guild Hall." "Yes it is. Nesho, do you want to pay off our guide here or do you want to keep him for awhile?" "Hmm, here's your copper. Now do you want to wait for us and guide us for the rest of today or not?" Nesho asked while reaching into her pocked for the coin. "Oh I'll wait here mistress, Lord Warrior. Ah, Lord? Only warriors is supposed to go in here, should the mistresses be going in with you?" "I wouldn't think it'll be a problem since they're with me. You can come in also, if you want." "No Lord! Thank you but I'll just stay out here if that pleases you." Dent just shrugged. "Nesho, Sosho, come with me unless you'd rather stay out here. Barth, we'll see you shortly." With that he turned and strode through the entrance. It was noticeably cooler inside and somewhat dimmer. Large open windows let in a considerable amount of light but it was diffused and certainly not as bright as outside. The room they entered was large -- some fifty feet on a side -- and devoid of decoration. The only furniture visible was a desk at the far end. Sitting behind that desk was a man. Seeing few other options, Dent walked over and stood in front of the desk. The man sitting behind the desk looked at him curiously. He was old, old enough to have gray hair anyway, and his face was tanned, lined and weather-beaten. On the left side of his face was a scar starting somewhere around his temple and running down and around the line of his jaw. Although he didn't smile his eyes held no animosity. "May I help you?" he said. "I hope so," Dent replied. "We just came to town today and I think I'm supposed to check in here." "That's true if you're a member of this Guild. Are you?" "I think so, but I'm not sure. We left the day of my graduation and I never had a chance to stop into my own Guild Hall. I was hoping I could do that here." "Hmm, let me see your certificate." "Ah, that's in the hold with my baggage," Dent said embarrassed. "If I need it then I suppose I could come back when I get it." "We need that or either an existing or completed contract." "Oh I have one of those. Nesho?" She was already pulling the papers out of another of her pockets. She handed them to Dent who then turned them over to the man. "Interesting," the man commented, looking at the contract and the completion review and signature on the final page. "Ending early, complete satisfaction, bonus awarded. Very unusual but it does seem to be in order. I'm sure there's a story behind this, but we can wait for that later." Picking up a small bell sitting on the desk he rang it and seconds later a small plump woman with slave markings came out of a door behind him. "Silvia, I would like a copy of this to keep, dear, as quickly as you can if you please." "Of course, Master Jon. It will only be a few minutes," she said leafing through the papers. She glanced up and smiled briefly then turned and hurried back through the door. "We'll get a copy for us and then sign you in as a chapter member. What academy did you graduate from?" "Salas." "Really? We don't see many of your ilk around here. Actually I don't remember seeing many of your alumni anywhere except in Salas. Your kind doesn't tend to wander all that often. Now I have worked with a few, mind you. I'm a great admirer of your technique: tough as the devil to learn but highly effective. I know that for a fact! So tell me what you're doing here. Looking for work? We have a few offers on the board but to be honest they aren't very good. Might be better ones opening up soon, depends on when Jeevel and Malshall end up getting into it." "Do you think there will be war between them?" Dent asked. "Almost inevitable I would think," Jon replied. "They've been dancing around each other for years now, that can't go on much longer. Besides I heard that one of the privateers actually took a Malshallian frigate as a prize and brought her into port today. If that doesn't push Malshall over the edge I don't know what would." Standing behind Dent, Sosho gasped. "Eh, what was that? You girl, step out here so I can see you. That's right, now don't you worry, I don't bite, much. Well you are a pretty little thing. Oh salidin, my congratulations there, Dent is it?" Dent nodded his head. Jon continued, "Now what is this all about?" "Well," Dent started, "The ship we were on..." "Not from you boy! From your woman here, she is yours right, so's the other? Lucky little shit if you ask me, at your age and you have two lookers with salidin. Life just isn't fair sometimes. Anyway I want to hear it from her. She's better looking than you are and besides I just might get the truth." Jon's gruff manner was offset by his smile and generally relaxed attitude. He prompted Sosho, "Go on, dear." In a flurry of words Sosho related the boarding of the Vengeance and the final bloody results. Finally Dent had to break in. "It wasn't quite that way," he said quickly. "I know Sosho thinks I captured the Vengeance all by myself but that simply isn't true." "Oh? And just what were you doing?" "I was leading the boarding party." "And there were ten of you like she said?" "Well nine actually, but still..." "And nine of you captured an entire ship?" "Well yes, but most of the fighters were on the Grip trying to take her, so we only had to deal with what was left." "So all you had to do was take a ship with nine men, keep it and fight off the ones trying to return?" "Well it sounds better the way you say it than it actually was." "Don't they all, brother," Jon chuckled. "Don't they all. Regardless, it's a good story, one you'll have to relate to us old-timers over a mug of beer some night." Just then Silvia came back through the door and set down two piles of paper. One was Dent's original papers and the other looked like identical copies. "Ah here is the copy. It's about time. I swear Silvia you are getting slower every day." "You just wish I was getting slower, you old fraud. Then you might be able to catch me more often." Silvia bent down and kissed him lightly on the forehead before winking at Dent's group and quickly leaving again. "Ah it just isn't the same nowadays, youngster," Jon said with a sigh as he watched Silvia's retreating backside. "Slaves just don't know their place like they used to. Too indulgent is what we are, too lax on discipline. They get uppity and need to be taken in hand. Makes them happier I think." "Silvia is yours then?" Dent asked politely. "Well not really," Jon said turning back around to face them. "She actually belongs to the Hall, but the council and I have an understanding. Bastards won't let me buy her, say she's too valuable and they're afraid I'd take her and run away somewhere, like I'm going anywhere else," he muttered almost to himself. "Anyway, back to you," he continued. "With this contract we can grant you provisional membership and when you retrieve your baggage you can bring us the certificate and we can make it official. Do you want to pay your dues now or wait till then?" "I suppose we can pay it now as easily as later," Dent shrugged. "How much is it?" "One gold pay's you up for a year and then it's ten percent of your contract wages. Let me see, that would be..." he shuffled through his copies. "Seven gold, four silver and two coppers," Nesho interrupted. "With bonus, that is." "Hmm, well, yes it would be," he looked up surprised. "Yes, that's it exactly." Glancing at Nesho and then at Dent he smiled. "Not only is she beautiful but she's smart; that could be a very dangerous combination you know." "There is risk involved with anything worthwhile," Dent said looking at Nesho with obvious pride. "In this case the rewards far exceed the risk. You're right though, she is smart, much smarter that I am. In fact if there were real justice in this world she'd be the one in charge and I'd be just one of her lackeys." Nesho blushed and gave him one of her smoldering "you are so going to get laid" looks. Still smiling, she reached into her pocket for her coin purse and retrieved the requested amount. Jon took the coins, made a note in a ledger open on his desk and dropped the coins into another drawer. "Thank you and by the way, that's not something you should say out loud too often around here, but I know just what you mean. Thank our luck, there isn't real justice; works out much better for muscle-brained plodders like you and me." Jon opened a drawer, reached in and drew out a bright bronze medallion on a silver chain. "Here's your membership pendant. It's your proof of membership in good standing. Wear it proudly and welcome, brother." With that he stuck his hand out and clasped Dent's firmly. "Just a few other things: You can store any of your gear here in the Hall, just ask out back at the practice field; they can show you where it goes. Also you can use the facilities anytime you want but we have official practice times every morning and afternoon. A good number of the brothers in town come here most days so it shouldn't be difficult to get a sparring partner; helps you keep your edge. Like I said before, we also keep a list of openings, you don't have to go through us but it's available. I take it you already know about the grievance claims and what to do if you have one: just bring it here to us is really all you have to do." "Yes I do and thank you." Dent pursed his lips and nodded. "That reminds me: Something happened this morning on the ship that you may be interested in." He went on to tell Jon about his altercation with Garishnie, leaving nothing out. "Really? You told him you couldn't decide whether to kill him first or afterwards? Damn! I wish I'd been there." Chuckling while he waved his hand in dismissal Jon continued. "Actually we already heard something of this; news travels fast here in Harv'el. "Don't worry about it. Garishnie is a pig and he obviously overstepped his bounds. If he does have the balls to complain -- which I doubt -- then we can bring it to formal arbitration, but it sounds like you handled it just right. Well maybe it would have been better if you'd have run him through." Then he sighed theatrically, "But then again maybe not. I've never been one of those diplomatic types, always preferred the 'cut them down and sort it out after' method. "Just to be on the safe side you might want to register any valuable property here with us; the girls here should be included. It helps if you have to kill someone later on; you know, eliminates any doubt of ownership. You say they were done here, this morning? Was it old Don that did it? That will make it easy to verify. In fact I'll probably see the old bugger sometime soon and take care of it. Is there anything else I can help you with?" "Should I leave this here also?" It was the slave tax receipt Vel had given him. "Sure, that and any other important papers you want to have protected. We'll just keep them all here in our file. They'll be available any time you want them." Dent left the receipt for safekeeping and then explained they were look for a place to stay and wondered if Jon had a recommendation. Jon happily gave them a number of options from the very high priced to cheap but livable. Dent thanked him again and they took their leave. "Oh good! You're still here, Barth," Nesho said as they strode out into the bright sunlight. "Yes, mistress. I said I would wait and here I waited." "You certainly did but now we need to find out if you can help us for the rest of the day. Tell me, do you know the Coopers district?" "Oh yes, mistress, very well" "Good. We're looking for a nice yet inexpensive room to rent for a while. But first I think we need something to eat. I know I'm starved." "I know just the place, mistress. An innkeeper I know rents rooms and I know she has a few available. Truth is, mistress, rooms is easy to get lately. There's a lot more of them than people wanting them." "And you've eaten there before?" "Ah, well, not exactly inside, mistress," he lowered his head. "But Marie, she's the innkeeper, she feeds me sometime out back, leftovers and scraps from the day and such. I can tell you she has the best food in the district, maybe in the whole town!" "Well that is quite a rousing recommendation." Then Nesho smiled. "Very well, my fine young fellow, lead on and let's sample this magical food. Maybe if it's as good as you say we can talk with this Marie about a room." Barth looked over at Dent who gave him a little half smile and a slight shrug as if to say "Why look at me?" With a wave of his hand, he ordered their little guide to proceed and off they went. Nesho walked beside Dent while Sosho again held onto his belt. She wasn't nearly as nervous as she had been before but still wanted the comfort of physical contact. Eyes watched the four stroll down the street and the body attached followed. Unobserved, carefully close, yet cautiously distant. Never slinking to avoid appearing suspicious. Always understated, in plain sight, yet blending with background to become almost invisible, the spy followed the four as he had from the moment they left the dock. ------- Chapter 18 The four of them strolled down the street curiously looking at the various shops and businesses while their diminutive guide kept up a continuous stream of chatter about the sights. Although they didn't seem to cause an unreasonable amount of commotion, it was not uncommon for those passing by, or even some of the shop workers, to stop and give them a small bow or curtsy, some obviously aimed at Dent but no few equally to Nesho or maybe Sosho. Nesho noticed and while this courtesy was welcome, it was unusual for Salas. She also noticed that everyone they met had the slave mark on their forehead. She mentioned this to Barth who shrugged and gave her a puzzled look. "Masters usually don't travel the streets on foot, mistress, mostly Warriors, a few seamen, and of course the rest of us. When we see our master we must show obedience and with other masters it's not required but it just seems right." "So because Dent doesn't have the mark he's a master and people are showing him respect?" "Oh no, mistress, I mean yes, mistress, well I don't know mistress." He got that puzzled look again, like he was trying to think of how to say what was too obvious to put into words. "I mean the Master is a Warrior, that everyone can see just by looking at him," he glanced over at Dent with almost worship in his eyes, "but he's also a Master because of you and the young mistress." "So you can tell we belong to him just by looking at us?" Nesho said somewhat surprised. "Oh yes, mistress! Well that or he's guarding you. But no matter, you must have a very important master since nobody but the greatest have slaves with salidin and here are two!" "Hmm," Nesho reached up to touch the warm metal band around her neck. It had been there for only a few short hours but already seemed to be a natural part of her body; she was even beginning to forget it was there. She was ready to ask more when Barth jumped over to Dent's side and eagerly pointed to a small unassuming building a short way up the street. There was no doubt it was an inn, or at least a tavern, and while it appeared to be very old it had been kept in good repair. It had two stories and was nestled in between two taller buildings. The ground floor sported several generously sized windows facing the street, all presently wide open and through which the sounds of a busy eatery could be heard. That wasn't all the escaped through their open shutters: A stray breeze brought the wonderful smell of cooked food to Nesho's nose causing her mouth to water. Suddenly she felt like she was starving! "There it is Lord," Barth said to Dent still pointing. "The Cracked Cask, the best inn in Coopers Town, probably in the whole of Harv'el." "Looks good to me, what do you think, Nesho?" As Dent turned to look at her, Nesho's stomach growled causing her to blush and look around quickly to see if anyone heard her slight indiscretion. Slapping a hand over her mouth, Sosho tried unsuccessfully to stop from laughing aloud. Dent merely grinned and said, "I'll take that as a yes. Well let's go in and see if the food tastes as good as it smells." Taking her arm in his, he led her across the street and into the inn followed closely by a still giggling Sosho and a laughing Barth. They paused after entering allowing their eyes time to grow accustomed to the relatively dim light inside. Scanning the room Nesho quickly relaxed when she saw the clean floor and tables. The clientéle relaxed her even further; this was no tavern of beer swilling no-counts. Not at all, in fact they seemed to be reasonably normal everyday type people. Most of the patrons would have appeared to be working class or maybe merchants if they had been in Salas. Despite appearances they all were marked as slaves. There were even a few family groups interspersed throughout the three-quarters-filled room. Nodding, she silently indicated her approval. "Marie! Marie!" Barth shouted as a woman made her way towards them. She was a big woman, not fat, just big. As she got closer, Nesho could see she was almost Dent's height and maybe even close to his weight. Big and broad but with a surprisingly attractive face, she was probably in her mid-thirties with her hair drawn back in a knot on the back of her head. Her slave mark a multi-colored floral design reached from the bridge of her nose over each eyebrow. Definitely not someone you would want angry with you and right now she didn't look very pleased. "What are you doing here, you little scamp?" she demanded, frowning at Barth. "I told you never come in the main room and bother the customers. You want I should stop feeding you and let you fend for yourself like the other dogs you run with?" "Marie!" he said pulling himself up and trying to look as big and old as he could, "I am working now and I've brought you customers. Is this any way to treat an experienced guide like me?" "Customers, is it? Guide, is it? What's this nonsense coming out of your mouth?" "Ah hmm," Dent cleared his throat, "I'm afraid it's true mistress. He is our guide and he insisted on coming here saying you had the best food in the district if not the whole city." "Oh he did, did he?" she said grabbing Barth by the ear, lightly, and pulling him along until she stopped in front of them. "Well if he's your guide then finding us just goes to show that even a blind pig can find an acorn now and then." She started to smile then noticed Dent's armor and Nesho's salidin. Suddenly she let go of Barth's ear and curtsied. "I-I'm terribly sorry, Lord. I didn't know who I was talking to. Please forgive me." "I don't know who you think you're talking to, mistress, but I only know of three hungry travelers. We were hoping your food tastes as good as it smells, although as good as that is I don't know how it could. Do you think you might be able to find a table for the four of us? Barth, I assume we can tempt you to eat with us?" "Oh yes, Master Dent! That would be wonderful." Leaning up to Marie he whispered in a voice still loud enough to be heard by half the room. "No need to be bowing 'n scraping to them, Marie. Master Dent and his ladies is all right. They're even giving me a whole silver to show them around today!" "That's very generous of them," she stage-whispered back. Turning back to Dent she continued in a normal voice. "Is the little scamp right, Lord? These ladies belong to you?" "Yes they do. Is that a problem?' "Of course not, ah, Master. If you will please wait, I'll move some people and get you the best table in the house." "Not necessary, mistress. We'll take whatever is open, I see you still have a few. And please, my name is Dent, not Lord or Master. We're not from around here and it makes me uncomfortable. By the way this is Nesho and that is Sosho." "Hey! That's my job!" Barth interjected. "I do the introductions here! This is Master Dent of the Warriors Guild and his concubines, Nesho torDent and Sosho torDent. Master Dent, Mistresses Nesho, Sosho, this is Marie torBrisil of the Cracked Cask." "My pleasure, Mistress Marie," Dent said with a smile, "and please, just Dent." "Whatever pleases you Ma-ah I mean Dent. Please follow me." With that the big woman led them to a nearby table. Waiting until they took their seats she let them know their menu choices. "Fish or mutton stew, fresh bread, greens and boiled vegetables. I'm sorry, sir, we don't have a very big selection. Usually it's whatever is available, but I can see if we can find something more if you please." "No, this will do wonderfully! After shipboard fare I could eat just about anything but right now the mutton sounds very good." The others agreed. "Then, I'll bring out plates and a cauldron of the stew," Marie said nodding. "That way you can eat as much or as little as you wish." Minutes later a large cauldron filled with stew was placed on the table along with a basket of still-steaming bread, butter and a platter of vegetables. One of the young serving girls ladled out a portion for each of them and the feasting began in earnest. Some time later all four were pleasantly stuffed and feeling the effects of their eating binge. Marie came back with an almost worried frown until she saw the obviously satisfied looks on each of their faces. "Was the meal satisfactory, Master, I'm sorry I mean Dent?" "Satisfactory? Not even close!" He hurried on when he saw the stricken look on her face. "It was wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! I haven't had a meal like that for a long time. Please, my thanks to you and your cook!" "No, thank you, Master Dent," she smiled with dimples appearing in her cheeks. "It's good to hear someone appreciates our food. By the way my niece is head cook now; I'll tell her what you said. Now will that be all for you today?" She looked at them expectantly. Dent looked over at Nesho and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. When she smiled and nodded he gestured with his hand for her to get on with it. "I agree the meal was wonderful, but maybe there is something else you can do for us," Nesho said putting on her negotiating face. "Oh? And what might that be, my lady?" Marie's face instantly assumed the same emotionless façade as Nesho's. "We're looking for a room or rooms to rent and our little guide said you had quite a few open." "Did he now? Well we might have one; I'll have to check of course. Maybe if Master Dent and yourself would like to come with me we can check together?" "If it's all the same to you, Nesho, I think I'll just stay here out of your way," Dent said with a small smile. "Sosho, would you like to go or stay?" "I'll stay here if that's all right with you." Without waiting for an answer she stood up and came around the table to sit beside him on the bench. Picking up his arm she laid it across her shoulders as she snuggled into him with a sigh. "Hmm. It would appear it's just you and I, Marie. Shall we go look at this room of yours?" With that the two women walked off towards the rear of the building. "Right this way, my lady," Marie said indicating a stairway up to the second floor. "Please, Marie, I'm Nesho not 'my lady.' I may be new here but I know we're both slaves. Why would you say that to me?" Then she laughed, "I'm here to rent a room not buy the place." "Yes, but your..." "My what?" Marie brought her hand up to her own neck like she was touching something. Nesho brought her own hand up to touch her salidin. "You mean this?" Marie nodded. "But why should this matter?" "I-I don't really know," Marie stammered. "But I feel like it should. I mean we don't see many around here and when we do they're, well they're..." "They're on the high-priced toys of some rich noble or Master?" Nesho completed for her. Marie looked a bit sheepish but nodded with a small smile. "I'm beginning to catch that feeling," Nesho said dryly. "I wonder if it was worth this notoriety just to avoid the tattoo." "Why would you avoid the mark?" Marie sounded puzzled. "Sure it stings for a while but it goes away soon enough." "It's not that. It's just that where we come from facial tattoos are uncommon. Dent, Master Dent that is, didn't want to put marks on our faces." "We think they're attractive," Marie said frostily. "Oh they are," Nesho said quickly. "It's just, well Master Dent can be a bit, how shall I say this, resistant to change. He likes things to stay the same as much as possible. So this would be a big change and..." "Say no more!" Marie chuckled and shook her head. "They're all the same, these men. Still be wearing the same rags we wrap them in at birth if it was up to them. So, what is it like? Wearing one of them?" "Ah, I don't know really. I just got it this morning." "You just came in this morning? On the privateer? Oh yes, everyone in town knows what goes on down at the docks. Not much else going on nowadays so when someone pulls in we all know it." She paused, "May I touch it?" When Nesho nodded Marie lightly rubbed her fingers across the golden metal. "It's warm. Does it hurt?" "No. In fact I barely know it's there." "Do you feel different? I've heard some of the stories about what they can do, what they mean." "Different?" her eyes gazed off into nothing for a minute. "Yes, I guess I do. It's funny but I can feel him, even here when I can't see him. I can point to right where he is, and..." "And what?" "And I know he loves me," she completed. "He? You mean Master Dent?" "Yes, him." "And you love him too, don't you?" "Oh yes, very much." "Strange," muttered Marie. "What's that?" Nesho asked. "Nothing. Nothing at all. It's just that we do things a bit differently around here, but that's neither here nor there. Let me show you what we have available, Nesho. I have a feeling we have a considerable amount to learn from each other. This way." "You were gone long enough," Sosho snapped when the two women returned. "Sosho," Dent warned, "be nice." "I'm sorry," she said as she buried her head in his shoulder, her fingers idly playing with his breastplate. "So?" Dent asked. "I think it's very nice," Nesho said. "The only question is how many bedrooms do you want? One or two?" "You mean I get to choose?" "Of course you do! You are the Master here," Nesho smiled. "Well," he said thinking, "I know what I would like, but I don't know if it would work." "What do you want?" "One bedroom, one bed." "You want all your women in bed with you at once?" her smile got even bigger. "I want all the women I love in bed with me at the same time," he corrected. "But it will be up to the two of you if it will work out. I have the easy part; I'd be sharing the bed with both my wives and not sharing my husband with someone else." Nesho looked at Sosho who pushed herself away from Dent's side and looked back at her mother. Their eyes locked for a few minutes. Nothing was heard but much was said between the two. As one they both nodded and looked back at Dent. "It's what we want also, Master," Nesho and Sosho said together. "How in the world did you do that?" Dent gasped. Nesho just shrugged and Sosho giggled. "Well if it's what you want and find acceptable, I'm assuming we can afford it so why bother looking further?" Nesho nodded and waved to Marie who was standing next to the back wall. "I think this is bigger than the apartment we had back in Salas," Dent said as they moved through the three rooms. The main room contained two large comfortable chairs, a padded bench, a small table with two chairs of its own and a small kitchen with an alcohol stove and a dry sink. The bedroom was off to the right, small but large enough to hold the bed, a small dresser and standup wardrobe. "We'll need a bigger bed," Dent muttered and blushed as he glanced over at Marie who was walking behind them. The bed was large enough for two people but wouldn't comfortably fit three. "Already taken care of Master Dent," Marie chimed in. "I have a cousin who is willing to trade this one and a little silver for one that will hold four of you if that's what you want." "Ah, three will be quite enough, thank you," he stammered as Marie chuckled. Marie nudged Nesho with her elbow. "Its sweet to see a young man get flustered sometimes. Most of the young studs around here would be bragging about taking two women to bed every night." "Our Dent doesn't brag, he just does," Nesho said with a smirk. "Does what?" Sosho chipped in as she came into the room. "Why satisfy the women in bed, dearie," Marie practically cackled. "Oh gods yes!" Sosho practically squealed. "Why just the other night I thought he was going to wear us both out! I didn't think I'd be able to walk right for a month..." Face burning Dent hastily mumbled his excuses and quickly left the room. He wasn't experienced being around women and was quickly finding that women who were comfortable with their intimacy could make life very uncomfortable for their men. Trying to regain his composure he poked around out in the main room and looked into the third smaller room. It held a cot, table and another wardrobe. Acting nonchalant he wandered back into the main room and sat in one of the chairs. The women were still together in the bedroom and from the laughter and various snatches he was able to overhear he was damn glad not to be in there with them. "How long have you two been with Master Dent? Do you really belong to him alone?" "Ah, yes," Nesho answered slowly. She had always considered herself a good judge of character and felt that for whatever reason she could trust this woman. "We've been with his family a long time. I've known him all his life although our relationship has, hmm, changed in the past few weeks." "I can tell," Marie said thoughtfully. "You both have the look of newly plucked brides." Nesho smiled and Sosho blushed. "Well he seems to be kind and obviously has feelings for the both of you which says something about your luck. We aren't all that lucky, although I can't really complain." "Your master is kind to you?" "My master probably doesn't even know I'm alive," Marie said laughing. "His overseer comes by once every ten-day or so to pick up the profits but other than that I haven't seen him in years." "Is that usual? I mean I know I'm new here but it's all very different than I expected. Everything and everyone seem so... normal." "You mean why aren't we all walking around in chains with guards whipping us every step of the way?" "Well, yes, I guess that's kind of what I expected," Nesho pursed her lips. "There is some of that," Marie's jaw clenched. "There are the mines for the men and the brothels for the women, each of those are bad enough. Some of the masters do seem to enjoy giving pain and then we often have no options as to whom we sleep with but for most of us it's just existing from day to day. "It can be difficult knowing that any day you can be sold and used like those poor buggers but it's something you learn to live with. Most of us were born into it; maybe that makes it easier for us." "I was told that most of the people who live here are slaves." "That's true," Marie admitted. "I don't know the exact count but there aren't more than two hundred masters in all of Harv'el. Now there are a good number of free merchants, soldiers, and seaman. The Warriors are free of course, gods help the master that tries to enslave one of those brutes. No offence meant to your master, dearie. It's just that they're, well almost a breed apart if you know what I mean." Pausing for a moment she tilted her head and gave a calculating look at her two companions. "You haven't been slaves very long, have you?" "Ah, well no we haven't," Nesho responded rather flustered. "How did you know and does it matter?" "I thought not. Does it matter? Not in the least. What you were before may be interesting but not important. You were taken on that small ship that just came in, weren't you?" Nesho nodded. "Is that where you met your new master?" "No, I told you the truth when I said we've know him for most of our lives. It's just that we weren't slaves at the time." "Hmm, so he wasn't crew on the Grip." Nesho realized this woman was no fool. She obviously had a sharp mind; this wasn't someone you could keep the truth from for very long. "I'm betting there's an interesting story in there somewhere." "Yes," Nesho sighed. "You could call it interesting and I'm willing to tell the whole of it, but not right now, please." "Yes, you and I need to sit down for a nice long chat. Maybe the three of us should. What are you two, sisters?" "No," Nesho admitted, "she's my daughter." "Momma!" Sosho interjected. "Do you think we should be telling anyone..." "It's all right, youngster," Marie soothed. "It's as plain as the nose on your face that you two are related, closely. Daughter? My goodness you must have been a mere babe yourself when you had her." "Thirteen seasons." "Yes a mere babe, but you seemed to turn out well enough, as did she." "Yes she did," Nesho said proudly. "Well we can talk later. Maybe we should go see what your young man is up to. Master or not, you can't leave men alone on their own for too long or they find some kind of trouble to get into." "Dent is better than most for that but we should see what else needs to be done for now." Dent hadn't been just sitting around waiting. While the women were talking he had stripped off his armor and found a peg by the door to hang armor and sword. The dirk he kept on his hip; for some reason he wasn't comfortable being completely unarmed. "Does it meet with your approval, Master Dent?" Nesho asked as she led the women into the main room. "Ah, yes, it's fine. The only problem I see is there isn't much room here to cook." "We won't be doing much of that unless you insist," she told him. "The room includes meals down in the inn if that's acceptable." "That would be great," he said enthusiastically. "Not that I don't enjoy your cooking of course," he added hastily. "But it would certainly make things easier for you." Nesho smiled. She was well aware of her strengths and weaknesses and cooking definitely wasn't one of her strong points. She was a mediocre cook and the best that could be said was she was better than her daughter. Sosho, even after years of trying, could still barely boil water without burning it. She used to joke with Dent saying the many long hours he spent at the academy was primarily to eat in their dining hall and avoid her cooking. "Your new bed will be here shortly," Marie told them. "There's a laundry two doors down; they'll do yours for a reasonable price or you can use the tub out back. You'll need to buy your own soap and boil your own water if you use it, though. Is there anything else you need?" "We have a few trunks and some other baggage coming off the Pinya either tomorrow or the day after. What's the best way to hire someone to carry it up here for us?" Marie shrugged, "You can either hire someone right off the dock or I have a few nephews always lying around here somewhere. I can get them to do it for you. Either way is safe. Nobody is going to steal from you as long as you keep your eyes open, especially from you." "If it's all the same to you I'd rather use someone at least known to somebody so if you really do have a few just lying around, I'll use them." "Certainly, Master Dent. The boys will be glad to earn a few extra coin. It's been pretty slow around here and they're getting rather bored. Just let me know when you think you'll need them and they'll be ready. Will two be enough?" "I should think so." "Very good. I'll have them ready when you want them. If that's all then I'll leave you alone. Until later then, Nesho, Sosho, Master Dent." With that Marie swiftly left the room. For a few minutes they just sat and stared at each other in silence. Suddenly Sosho jumped up, walked over and plopped down in Dent's lap. As his arms came up to automatically encircle her she began to nibble on his neck and play with the fastenings of his shirt. "Ah hmm," Nesho sounded exasperated. "Do you think that's appropriate for mid-afternoon? Especially since we are expecting visitors soon?" "Oh pooh," Sosho muttered, her lips still working on his neck as her hand snaked into his shirt doing all kinds of wonderfully distracting things. "You're just jealous that you didn't think of it first." "I did think of it first," she retorted. "I just think it would be better left until tonight." Turning, Sosho looked at her mother and pouted. "But if we wait until tonight you'll just want to be first again." "Well maybe we can work that out between the two of us. I suppose to be fair I'll have to let you go first sometimes." She harrumphed a little, "I can see this multiple wives thing will take some work." "Don't I have a say in this?" Dent whined. "No," came their unified response. "How do you do that?" he muttered. Both of them just shrugged and started laughing. "I don't know," giggled Sosho. "But I can feel a connection with Momma. Not like I feel with you but it's there. With you it's, well, I don't know how to explain it. You're there to me now, all the time. I know what you're feeling. I know when you're happy with me, or with Momma for that matter, and I get the feeling I'll know if you're not happy with me. And," she started tickling him lightly on the chest, "I know what you want to do right now!" Chuckling, he gave her a quick squeeze. "That doesn't take magic to divine; I want that anytime I'm near either one of you, and when I'm not near you, for that matter." "Thank you dear," Nesho said, smiling. "But this is different. I know what Sosho is saying, what she's feeling and it's... strange. I've never felt like this before. You know I love you and certainly have no problem with getting naked and in bed at anytime, but now it's like I can feel your desire and it... I don't know... stimulates my own. I know if you told us to get into bed right now, even if it's against my better judgment, that's where I'd be in seconds. I can tell that you're horny," she smirked, "but I can also tell you don't really want it right now." "Hmm," he huffed. "I don't know if I like you two being able to read me like that. I don't know, it somehow seems... indecent." Moving quickly Nesho got up and knelt next to the two of them. Reaching out she grasped one of his hands and after exchanging looks with her daughter for a moment looked up into his eyes. "Dent, this is going to take some getting used to I think but there is something you need to understand: Above all else, you own us." "I know what they say..." he started but Sosho reached up to place her fingers over his mouth. "No, you don't know this," Nesho said softly. "The minute you touched this," she caressed her salidin, "and it was activated it started changing me. From that time this morning I became truly yours. Before I wouldn't have done anything to hurt you;, now I can't, literally cannot. I can't even conceive of doing something you wouldn't want me to do and I know I would do anything you did want me to. If you told me to abort our baby," this time she caressed her own stomach, "I would." "No!" he tried to shout but Sosho's fingers again gently caressed his lips telling him to be silent. "I know you wouldn't, dear," Nesho continued smiling, "I'm just saying that so you'll understand just how much control you have over us." "No man should have that kind of control over another," he whispered. "Maybe not," Sosho chimed in, "but you do. There's only one thing important in our lives now: it's you." "I am so sorry," he said looking at them in horror. "If I'd known I would never have allowed it." "Actually," Nesho said cheerfully, "It feels pretty good." Sosho nodded with her own smile. "Maybe it's the change forcing me to feel this way but I've never been happier in my life. It's not like I feel I've lost something; everything feels perfectly normal except for what I feel about you. I loved you before and I love you now so it's not like that was forced on me. I'm not sure it could force me to love you. Obey you, yes, but not love. But then that's something we'll never know." "But it's something you need to understand, at least as well as the three of us can. We may have a deeper knowing of your inner feelings, and no we can't read your mind, but we can only use it for your benefit. " "This is going to take some getting used to," he said with a sigh. "Momma," Sosho pouted, "now you did it. He isn't horny any more." "Honey I'm sure if you show him a little leg and nibble on his neck some more he'll get right back to where he was. But don't you think we should wait until we have some privacy?" "I suppose so," she said pushing herself up and brushing out the pleats in her skirt with a sigh. "But I don't have to like it." "It's called being an adult dear. Besides we'll have plenty of time for that later." True to Nesho's prediction the bed was delivered a short time later with Marie and with the three women overseeing the project it was installed and the smaller one removed in short order. The rest of the afternoon was spent putting away the small amount of belongings they had carried from the ship that morning and arranging things to suit the women involved. After the evening meal they retired to their rooms. Sosho disappeared into the bedroom while Nesho and Dent puttered around in the main room discussing what they needed to do the next day. Just as they were finishing Sosho strolled out of the bedroom and up to Dent with a wicked grin on her face. She was wearing one of Dent's spare shirts that came down to mid-thigh and nothing else. His eyes were drawn to her long slender legs and up to her pert breasts swelling under the front of his shirt. He could just see the slight bumps of her nipples dimpling the fabric as he felt the heat rise up from his groin and flush through his body. She paused for a moment, almost posing for him and continued up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck while rubbing her body against him in a very unsubtly suggestive manner. "It's later," she whispered, "and it's private. My momma said I should show you some leg and nibble on your neck to get you in the mood. Do you think that would work?" "Having you walk in the room with field boots and full expedition pack would work for me!" he growled. "Good!" she giggled unwrapping herself and taking his hand. "Then we need to go see what it's like in a real bed." She started dragging him towards the bedroom. "You're supposed to play at least a little hard to get," Nesho commented dryly. "Not with my husband I don't!" she retorted. "Besides I didn't see you playing very hard to get; it must run in the family." Nesho snorted but then just shrugged. "Well have fun but don't use him up. I have plans for him later tonight myself." "You two think I'm nothing more than your pleasure toy," Dent pretended to whine. Suddenly Sosho stopped and looked up at him with her big dark brown eyes. "Oh no," she said breathlessly. "You are our husband, our man, our protector! The father of our children, the owner of our bodies and the master of our souls," she grinned and started tugging on his arm again. "And our pleasure toy!" "Watch out, Dent," Nesho laughed. "I think you've created a monster!" "I didn't create her, you did!" he cried as he tugged playfully against her ardent pull. "I think I only unleashed her!" With a few more pathetic cries for help Sosho finally dragged him through the door and closed it behind them. Alone at last Sosho dropped his hand and tentatively moved next to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head against his chest. She sighed as his arms enfolded her and she lifted her face in a demand/request for a kiss. Tilting his head down Dent brought his lips to hers and they kissed, lightly at first, softly, then as one the tips of their tongues met and danced together, each tasting the other. As they kissed Sosho moved her hands up between them and began to unfasten his shirt, pulling the tail out of his trousers and pushing it back, down and off, until it settled in a heap behind him. When she started with his trousers he began working on her shirt and soon they were both naked. Grabbing his very erect cock she walked backward pulling him along with her all the while staring into his eyes a little smirk on her lips. The back of her knees bumped the bed and she sat down. Still looking into his eyes she leaned forward and began licking his cock, at times briefly drawing it into her mouth for a suck or two before letting it plop out. Finally he couldn't take anymore and he reached down to push her gently onto her back. Smiling, she wiggled back until she was almost in the middle where she spread her legs wide and held her arms out to him. He was sorely tempted to mount her right then but wanted a taste of something else first. Leaning down he lightly kissed her lips and began to work his way down her body. Kissing on the neck, the shoulder, chest and finally her breasts where he spent some time nipping and sucking on her hard pebble-like nipples. Again he was amazed at how alike and yet utterly unique his two women were. "Ohhhh, enough Dent," she moaned. "Please! Please fuck me now!" But Dent wasn't anywhere near done yet. After one last playful nip on each nipple he left her magnificent breasts and began kissing and licking his way down her belly towards his real goal. When she realized what he was doing she grabbed his hair and admonished him to get up there and fuck her but he was undeterred. She wasn't strong enough to make him move where he didn't want to go and not cruel enough to actually tear out his hair so she had to suffer through kiss and lick until his hot breath caressed the lips of her quivering sex. "Argh," she screamed the first time his tongue lightly stroked the outer lips of her pussy. "Eeeow!" when it parted those lips and delved inside for its taste of her sweet liquor. " Oh Dent! Ohohohohohoooooo!" she whimpered as he firmly licked and sucked the tiny button at the top of her sex. Suddenly she stiffened and pulled his face into her crotch as hard as she could all the while babbling incoherently. After a few moments Dent wondered if he was going to be allowed to breathe again and she relaxed letting out a breath with a huge whoosh! Chuckling, she lifted her knees and spread her legs even farther apart. Now she tugged at his hair with a soft insistence so unlike the mindless lust of just moments earlier. Dent came to her call without hesitation. Slowly he pulled himself up and over until he could look down at her face with its smirky smile and half lidded eyes. Without a word she reached down with both hands and grasped his cock pulling it towards her sex until the bulbous head rested between the soft folds of her outer lips. Her legs lifted off the bed and wrapped around behind him where her heels pressed in, telling him what she wanted. He wanted it also. Slowly he pushed into her as she gasped and moaned beneath him. She was so tight it felt like he was pushing against a closed fist. She was incredibly wet but with each inch he sunk deeper her muscles tightened, grabbing at him with each small orgasm she experienced. Finally he reached bottom as the head of his cock brushed her cervix. He held still a moment, reveling in the feel of her surrounding him, holding him. After a while it became too much and he began to move in and out of her. With each movement she moaned, flinging her head back and forth while her dark hair spread out on the bed like a halo. It didn't take long for the pressure to build in his balls but he tried to hold back, prolonging the sensation for as long as he could. Suddenly her eyes popped open and she looked straight up at him gasping. "I can feel you," she whispered hoarsely. "I can feel you in me, I feel me around you! Oh the gods, you're going to cum... arghhhhh!" Hearing her broke down the last bit of resistance he had. He drove himself in as far as he could and held it as his cock emptied out into her smoldering depths. Exhausted, he collapsed on top of her barely able to support some of his weight on his elbows as he tried to regain his breath and strength. After a few minutes he pushed himself up onto his knees as his semi-flaccid cock plopped out of her. As he looked down, Sosho, eyes closed but mouth slack and open, didn't move. "Sosho? Sosho?" He tried shaking her shoulder but only succeeded in getting her head to roll over to one side. He was scared now. Jumping up he rushed to the door and threw it open. "Nesho! Quick! There's something wrong with Sosho!" he cried. Nesho was sitting in one of the chairs reading what was left of one of her books. Startled, she looked up, got up and quickly moved past him into the bedroom. Reaching the bed she surveyed the unconscious girl, felt for her pulse, listened to her breathing and placed an ear on her chest to listen to the heartbeat. Nodding, she stood up, patted the hand she was holding and placed it back down on the bed. Looking up at the terror-stricken man she smiled briefly and pulled him down to sit next to her. "W-what's wrong?" he babbled. "She'll be fine," Nesho soothed. "I think she just fainted. Tell me what you were doing when it happened. "Well, uh, we were, ah, actually just finishing, hmm." Embarrassed but even more frightened, he told her everything they had done and what Sosho had been saying just before the incident. Just as he finished Sosho began to murmur and move slightly on the bed. Stretching her hands over her head Sosho yawned and opened her eyes only to see a concerned Nesho looking down at her. "Oh, hi, Momma," she said stifling another yawn. "What are you doing here and where's Dent?" "He's right here, dear. It seems you fainted and he was worried about you." "Fainted?" she said puzzled. Then shaking her head she grinned, "Well I'm not surprised. That was the most amazing thing I have ever felt! It was like I could feel him feeling me but I could still feel him in me and... Oh, oh, oh, it was incredible!" "But you're all right?" he asked nervously. "Come here and I'll show you." When he leaned down she grabbed him and gave him a smoldering kiss. "Yep, I'm just fine," she said leaning back with a well-satisfied smile, then yawned, "But I am very tired so if it's all right with you I'll just go to sleep now." Not waiting for a reply she rolled over to the far edge of the bed and shut her eyes. Almost instantly a soft buzzing snore indicated she was asleep. Dent and Nesho looked at each other in surprise. "I guess she really was tired," Dent shook his head in wonder. "I would guess so," Nesho agreed. "How do you feel?" "Me? I'm just fine." "Good," standing up Nesho started to remove her clothing. "Because she's not the only woman you need to take care of, Master dear." Nesho had a sultry, almost wicked gleam in her eye and Dent felt himself regaining his excitement with every piece of clothing that hit the floor. Their lovemaking was slower and more gentle than it had been with Sosho but as they neared their mutual climax Nesho's eyes opened and became very round. "Oh! Oh my! This is what she meant! Oh yes, I can feel you and your... Oh yes Dent! Oh yes!" Nesho didn't faint but she did shake and cling to him tightly as he emptied into her. Afterwards they lay together, still wrapped in each other's arms as they drifted off to sleep. ------- Chapter 19 The next few days slid by with relative ease. Marie's promised layabouts were two strapping young men just as eager for something to do as she had said they would be. With them in tow he headed down to the docks to retrieve their baggage. The docks were still fairly empty so finding the Pinya was easy. Separating their gear from the rest of the loot piled on the pier took some time but was finally accomplished. As they were loading up the handcart they brought with them Dent saw the figure of Captain Vel coming down the pier with a Jeevel clerk bobbing in his wake. "Good morning, Captain!" Dent greeted, strangely pleased to see his former employer. "And a good morn to you also, Warrior. What brings you down here this day?" "Picking up our baggage. Now that we have a place to stay I'm getting some complaints about the lack of proper clothing and other things." "I suppose you would. So where have you come to roost and how are those lovely ladies of yours?" "Doing very well, thank you for asking. We've a room up at the Cracked Cask, in Coopers Town I think they call it." "Aye I've heard of it although I've never been there. I hear the food is worth the trip though." "That it is," he replied smiling. "In fact if you have the time I'd like to invite you there for dinner sometime, tomorrow night maybe?" "Why that would do very well indeed," the redheaded giant said surprised. "Good, if you don't see one of us, ask for Marie. She'll know where to find us. Now I'd better get this back before I'm in more trouble than I normally am." Marie's nephew's looked at him rather strangely. "I don't think they've ever heard of a Master being worried about being in trouble with his slaves before," Vel laughed. "Yes, well they've never been on the sharp end of one of Nesho's scoldings before, nor Sosho's temper for that matter," Dent grumped. "Well, better you than me," he said still laughing. "I'll be there tomorrow, but right now I'd better get this loot properly inventoried and inspected before my little friend here has a fit." "Until tomorrow Captain," Dent sketched a little salute as they parted. "How could you invite him here?" Sosho hissed after he told the women about his meeting the Captain. "He's the reason we're here and the cause of all our problems." "Well I suppose you're right in a way," Dent said trying to placate her. "Really he was just doing his job as he saw it, and besides it didn't turn out too badly, did it?" Sosho just snorted and turned back to empting one of the chests Dent brought back with him. "Don't mind her, dear," Nesho said as she shook out a dress just retrieved from another chest. "You know she gets grumpy just before her time of the month, she doesn't mean it." "I do too mean it! He's a horrible man and I never want to see him again. Besides, I am not grumpy!" Nesho just rolled her eyes at Dent who tried his best to keep a smile off his face. "Of course, little bit, I didn't think you were and I know how you feel about him. I don't know why, but I like him. But since you don't, you don't have to eat with us. You can eat earlier or later or even back in the kitchen with Marie's girls, whichever you want." "What? And have him think you can't control your own household? I think not!" Gathering up an armload of clothes Sosho snorted and stomped into the bedroom. Dent stared after her shaking his head. "She'll be fine dear," Nesho said smiling softly. "Sometimes the changes a woman's body goes through can be a little overwhelming, especially in one so young. Never fear: both of your torDents will be there and do you proud." "I know you will," he sighed. "I'm always proud of both of you, but what is this torDent business? I remember now, Barth introduced you two as torDent to Marie. What does that mean?" "I asked Marie about that. Tor means 'the slave of', torDent means we belong to you. It's something like the family names some cultures use." "Oh." Dent was familiar with the custom although it wasn't used much in Salas. He knew Nesho's original family name had been denSiso before she married, the same as his mother's. Nesho's family had come from a part of Salas where that convention was more common. It was more common in Salas proper to differentiate someone based on their occupation rather than family name, hence Dent would be Dent the Warrior or t'Warrior and Sosho might be Sosho t'Seamstress. "I don't know if I like that," he continued. "I don't like being reminded you two are slaves even if you are technically mine." "Well I can't say it bothers me very much," she answered. "I'm beginning to see that the reality of being a slave here is a lot different than I thought it would be." She continued quickly, "Not that there aren't bad aspects to it. I hear a lot of men are sold to the mines and that conditions there are truly horrific. We can still be bought and sold at an owner's whim and I'm sure the women used as prostitutes wouldn't agree with me, but for most of us here it's a pretty normal life. "Take Marie for example; she has been a slave all her life as were her mother and father, but for the most part her master leaves her alone to run this inn. She's had children although from what I gather the fathers have very little to do with raising them." Here she frowned, "in fact their whole concept of sex and family seems to be very different than what we're used to. I hope that's not how you're planning to handle fatherhood." Chuckling, Dent pulled her down into his lap and gently rubbed her stomach. "I intend to be right here for this little one," he said. "I hope I'll be a good father, at least a damn sight better than mine, anyway." "I'm sure you will be a wonderful father, love," she said tickling him under the chin. "But here they definitely do things differently. Here the child's the master's responsibility. Care, feeding, everything. But then they consider it property just like anything else, and as for sex," she just shook her head, "I never considered myself much of a prude but here they seem to couple with anyone that strikes their fancy, unless they're being held back by their Master for breeding. That's how she put it: breeding." "Well," he grinned, "I certainly intend to breed you, but I guarantee there will be only one sire and I know just who it is." Nesho blushed and leaned against him. "I'm glad to hear that, my master, but actually I don't think that will be much of a problem." "What? Not interested in coupling with Marie's nephews? Big strong boys, handsome too, not that I'm much of a judge of that." "No, I'm not," she said playfully slapping him on the chest. "You idiot! But there was something that Marie said, about these." She reached up and touched her salidin. "Now she wasn't sure mind you -- it seems these haven't been here in Harv'el for that many years -- but she said the bonded ones -- that's what they call us around here -- can't have sex unless their master allows it. She said something bad would happen if it was tried but she didn't know what. You know, this thing is much more than just a symbol like the marks. It changed us and it might be a good idea to learn a bit more about them if we can." "Hmm, you're right of course. We need to find out just what I got us into. But who to ask? Probably we ought to find that old fellow who put them on you, what was his name? Don? Anyway Vel seemed to know him rather well, when he's here tomorrow we can ask him how to find this Don. He also seemed to know more about these things then he let on. Maybe he can tell us something himself." "Well, we will see. Now what do you have planned for tomorrow?" For a good while they talked, in between cuddling and kissing, about what they needed to do over the next few days. After breakfast Dent quickly gathered his armor and gear and headed off to the Guild Hall. Sosho was still in a snit so he took the coward's way out and ran like the wind before the storm. Women's "problems" may be a fact of life, he thought, especially when you're living intimately with the women involved, but avoidance makes them much easier to deal with, from the man's point of view anyway. At the Hall he bypassed the front entrance and made his way around to the side where he found an attended door. Using the directions given he made his way back to the practice arena where another attendant showed him where to hang up his armor and weapons. His sword he turned into the Armsmaster to have a new edge put on it; it had been severely nicked during the last battle and although he generally liked servicing his own weapons he felt confident the Guild's man would do a better job of it then he could. For the first few hours he worked on the available training machines. The long weeks at sea had perceptibly affected his strength and conditioning and his body needed the workout desperately. With muscles feeling the ache of a good workout he went searching for a sparring partner. He found a few waiting around for the same thing. There were plenty of practice swords available and he chose one slightly heaver than his own. There wasn't anything like his dirk but a stop at the Armsmaster got his fitted with a bright orange lead ball capping the end; the edges weren't sharp enough to cut so they were left as is. Most of his sparring partners used the classic long sword and shield or buckler (a small round shield held in the hand.) Dent was familiar with this style of combat, although of the two he felt the buckler in the hands of a skilled opponent to be by far the more dangerous. The great shield was fine for defensive work, especially against opponents restricted in their movement, such as large formations battling against each other, but was slow and cumbersome against a swift and mobile opponent. The buckler, however, was small and as mobile as the user's hand, and since many of them had their own sharp spikes could be used offensively as well as defensively. Dent could use them but preferred the extra speed afforded by his dirk. "What is that you're using?" one of his partners asked after a match. "This? A dirk," Dent answered. "May I see it?" Dent handed it over without hesitation. "Doesn't look like any dirk I've ever seen," the warrior mused. "Hey, Brent! You ever see something like this?" An older man resting along the wall between bouts strolled over and looked at Dent's weapon. "Fuck me!" he exclaimed. "Yeah I've seen them before." He looked up at Dent. "You're from Salas aren't you?" Dent nodded. "Good with it?" Dent just shrugged. Brent turned back to Dent's sparring partner. "It's a swordbreaker, they call them dirks but they aren't. See those tines? He can trap your sword with a twist of his wrist and break it in two with his own sword. You use the short slasher don't you? Thought so. See how much thicker this is than a regular knife? How the edges aren't really dull, just a really wide bevel? It won't cut you like the edge of a knife or sword but if he hits you with it hard enough it'll open you up, acts more like a mace than a knife. Then of course there's the point which can drive through anything except maybe plate steel." "Dangerous?" "Fucking deadly, bucko. I went up against a group from Salas a few contracts ago and let me tell you I was glad to get out of there with my life. Thank our luck there aren't many of them and you rarely see them outside Salas. Which begs the question lad, just what are you doing here?" "I was heading for Malshall," Dent said again shrugging. "The ship I was on got captured. The captain of the privateer hired me under contract and here I am." "Still under contract?" "No. He offered me my release when we made port. He wasn't sure what he was going to do and didn't want the expense of a warrior." Not exactly the whole truth but Dent didn't see any reason for strangers to know the full story. Vel would have kept him on but he didn't see the point of mentioning that. "I'll bet there's a good story there. Sometime I'd like to hear it over a mug of beer." Again Dent just shrugged. "I wondered what was happening to my sword," muttered Dent's sparring partner. "It seemed to get stuck for some reason, I couldn't use it like I usually do." "Hmm," Brent pursed his lips. "Lad, what is your name anyway? Dent? Good. Dent would you mind going full speed against Marc here? Oh yeah and show him the disarming move. He needs to see that." "Well, all right," Dent said uncomfortably. "But I don't want to actually break anything here. These aren't my weapons." "Fuck 'em," Brent laughed. "If they break the Armsmaster will put 'um back together. Don't worry about breakage; that's what they're here for. If you can't practice full out how do you expect to live through the actual thing? You ready?" Both men faced off and crouched down. Marc watched Dent's dirk like he expected it to jump out and grab his sword. Seeing this Dent feinted with the dirk and slashed at the unprotected arm when the buckler moved to intercept. The blunted edge smacked the padding just above the elbow and Marc let out a howl of pain. "You just lost an arm, bucko," Brent cackled. "I warned you about the breaker, I didn't think you'd forget about the sword. Just go at him like you normally would and let's see what happens." Marc faced Dent again and started wildly swinging at him hoping to overpower his defense. For a while Dent moved back and to the side, brushing the strokes away or jabbing at the buckler to keep his opponent off guard. Finally Marc cut down from an overhand swing leaving Dent the opening he wanted. Quick as a snake Dent reached out with the dirk allowing the sword to strike down on the cross guard. Flexing his wrist Dent trapped the blade between one tine and the dirk's blade. Twisting into his opponent Dent smashed down on the trapped sword striking it with the shoulder of his own weapon. His personal sword had a flattened knuckle guard specifically used for just this maneuver but this practice sword didn't; hitting it with the shoulder was as close as he could come. Using the shoulder he wasn't able to bring quite as much force to bear as normal and so the trapped sword didn't break but the impact was great enough to drive the weapon out of his opponent's hand. Instead of a back swing, Dent used his elbow to move the buckler aside and with a short punch drove the pommel of his sword into Marc's side under the arm where armor would usually be thinnest. The breath whooshed out of his sparring partner and he fell to his knees gasping for breath. Brent sauntered over to his fallen friend and roughly helped him to his feet. "Gods!" Marc gasped. "What happened?" "You normally have a spiked pommel, don't you?" Brent asked and Dent nodded. "Thought so. Well, bucko, he disarmed you and then he spiked you. Could have cut off your sword arm or brought it up for a throat slash but the spiking keeps the sword in for defense and ready faster. I've see it used before but never that well." Then he laughed, "We have an expert here bucko, a real live Salasian expert. You're a Specialist aren't you?" "Hmm, yes," Dent answered curtly. "Hey, don't get your feathers ruffled, boy; it's not like it's a big secret or anything. I told you I met a group of your fellows once and after having the piss scared out of me I set out to learn a bit more about them. Even took a turn as visiting instructor for a season or two in Salas so I know all about your ranks. Marc, this fellow here is as good as you can get and not be an instructor. Salas turns out the best and this here is the best of that best. Damn, boy, what are you doing in this shit hole?" Again Dent just shrugged. "What?" Marc wheezed. "What can you do against that?" "Well now there's a good question," Brent mused. "I can see three things up front. One: you can run like the hellhounds are after you, my personal favorite. Two: you can kill him while he sleeps, not easy. Or three: Five of you can attack and hope you get him while he's killing the other four. I suppose there is a fourth way: contract to the same side he's on; that's probably the least dangerous option." "Fuck me!" Marc hissed. "Exactly," Brent nodded sagely. "But hey, nobody said this would be easy." "Now, bucko," he said turning back to Dent. "Are you done beating up on us poor old sods? Join us for a drop of ale in the taproom?" A nice cool drink after a relaxing soak in the hot baths sounded just fine to Dent so he raised his eyebrows and nodded. The small coach pulled up to the plain but heavily fortified door. Garishnie climbed down daintily mincing his steps trying to keep his new slippers out of the animal filth littering the alleyway. As he approached the door a pair of guards with crossed halberds stopped him. "Counselor Garishnie," he said imperiously. "I have an appointment to see His Excellency." The halberds drew back and one of the guards pushed open the door. Inside he met another pair of guards and again stated his purpose for being there. Satisfied he was on the approved list, the senior guard signaled a young slave boy and sent them off towards the Putram's audience room. Garishnie entered the small room and oriented himself on the figure seated on the low dais (this wasn't the throne room so the dais was only a low platform.) Coming to a stop he bowed low, almost a curtsey. He straightened up but kept his eyes lowered to the ground. If he had looked he would have seen a rather normal looking young man of about twenty-five, light brown hair down to his shoulders and slight of build. A perfectly normal young man except when you looked in his eyes you saw a touch of madness, or maybe it was just evil. Is there a difference? "Your Excellency, I have come as you ordered!" his voice dripping adulation. "What can this humble one do for you now?" "The same thing you always do for me, Garishnie. Why else would I call you?" came the sarcastic whine. "This toy is just about used up and I want you to find me another and I hope she lasts longer this time." The small whip in his hand lashed down on the trembling figure of a naked woman, girl really, chained to the floor at the foot of his chair. She was sobbing which didn't bother Garishnie at all, nor did the bright red stripes crisscrossing her back and front. "Of course, Your Excellency. I'm sure I'll be able to find any number of suitable, ah, toys, for you. Give me a few days and I'm sure I can come up with some very lovely choices..." "None of the normal sluts you usually drag in here, Garishnie. I want something fresh, new. Something I can really enjoy. What about something off that ship that was just brought in? They usually have interesting things on them." "Well there was this very young one, but some sailor bought her and besides I don't know how fresh she would be; you know how hard they use them on the ships before they bring them in." "Yes, yes, I know all that, but at least they're different. Besides I don't want one too young this time, all they do is cry and wail. They don't even scream well before fainting, a real pity." "Of course, Your Excellency, you would know best, but there is very little new coming in these days. I mean with trade being what it is nowadays and all." "What do you mean by that? Are you inferring that maybe we aren't perfectly capable of dealing with this Malshallian problem?" "Oh no, Your Excellency, of course not! I just mean that there aren't as many that would meet your high standards coming in lately. There were those two, but no, nothing we can do now unfortunately." "What two? Why unfortunately and why too late?" "Well there were two, one older and the other younger but still old enough, I'd say. Sisters maybe, maybe even mother and daughter, very pretty, but unfortunately their owner put salidin on them. He is a most disagreeable young brute and I doubt he could be persuaded to sell them. I had them followed but he kept them with him the whole time." "Nonsense! Tell him whom they're for and I'm sure he'll sell right away. If that doesn't work offer him double what they're worth. Sisters, now that sounds very interesting." "But Your Excellency," Garishnie whined, "I really don't think he will sell them!" "Well then have him killed and take them for back taxes or something like that. You're a sneaky little snake. Think of something." "But he's a Warrior, Excellency!" "So what? I said think of something, now get out of my sight!" Vel strode through the streets of Harv'el like a man without a care in the world, which was pretty much the case so far as he knew. He could have hired a carriage -- hell, he could have bought a carriage -- but Harv'el wasn't that big and he needed the exercise anyway. Slaves in and along his path stopped to bow and sometimes he even got a flirty come-on from some of the ladies. Few knew who he was but all knew he was free, very big, and probably wealthy from the looks of his clothes. That was good enough for them. It only took a couple of stops for directions and he was at the Cracked Cask. He liked the homey, open feeling of the front door and the delightful smells coming through the windows. It wasn't the best place he'd been in but it was far from the worst. It was an inexpensive kind of place that any sailor might rent while in port if it weren't so far from the docks. He paused for a moment then stepped through the door. It was getting darker outside so his eyes didn't need to adjust much to the dimness inside. Looking around he spotted Dent at one of the back tables, his two women sitting at his side. Across the table from them sat another comely lass, a bit older than Nesho but well favored. Dent saw him and stood up to wave him over. The woman talking to them stood up as he approached and Vel was amazed at how tall she was. The top of her head came up to his chin which was far more than any other woman he had ever seen before. She was a big woman, broad shouldered but narrow in the waist and a face that was more than pretty enough. Vel had to admit, he was interested. "Ah Captain, welcome, we're so glad you could make it tonight," Dent gave Vel a small bow and a large grin. "Nesho, Sosho." "Captain, be welcome." Nesho said graciously. Sosho gave a little bob of a curtsey but said nothing until Dent looked at her and raised his eyebrow, then she mumbled a stiff welcome. Vel grinned. That was one who didn't forget or forgive very easily, he thought. She hasn't learned to hide it very well yet but he could understand her far better than he could one of those that forgave and pretended something didn't happen at the drop of a hat. Chiding her gently, he made his bow to her just that little bit deeper. She knew and colored slightly. "And this is Marie, our friend and owner of the Cracked Cask." "Proprietor, not owner, Lord. Marie torBrisil." "Of course, Marie: a very lovely name for a lovely woman." "Thank you, Lord." "Just call me Vel please. Captain if you must and Torken if you don't want me to answer." "Very well, Captain," Marie laughed. "We don't stand on ceremony much around here so sit yourself down and I'll chase one of the girls out here with the food. What would you like to drink? Wine? I'll bring a pitcher out and glasses all around." "And water Marie, if you please," Nesho interjected. "Water, lady?" Vel asked. "Are you trying to get sick?" "Oh their water is fairly clean here; I use it to thin the wine." "Why? Oh wait... I remember now, something about spirits being bad for the baby. Congratulations, by the way. I had dinner with Don the other night and you three came up' he mentioned that you were expecting. Your first?" "I'm afraid not, Captain," Nesho laughed. "That sullen little wench sitting over there was my first and only until now." "I wondered," Vel chuckled. "The two of you look close enough to be sisters but a young mother and mature daughter is believable. Well, Armsman, I don't know how you do it: a mother and daughter. Tell me, did you really know each other before your last voyage? I know you weren't his slaves, so don't try that on me. Come on, it doesn't matter now. Even if some of the crew wanted to protest your claim, they couldn't, and we all know none of the ones left alive would be that foolish." "I assure you Captain, Nesho has known me all my life and I've know Sosho all of hers." "Well I still bet there's more to the story than that, but so be it. Now what do they have here that's good." "Everything!" "Yes I can tell you a little bit about your salidin and what's happening. It seems to be coming along just fine by the way. I have to agree with Don: I don't think I've seen a quicker or more trouble-free bonding." Vel paused for a moment. "You see where I come from salidin are common, very common. In fact most of the population has them." "Everybody there is a slave?" "We don't call them slaves. Serfs, servants or attendants maybe, but not slaves. I suppose there's not much of a distinction except there are a lot fewer masters. In fact most are actually attendants on others who have the salidin. Only the higher nobility don't have them." "You had slaves owning slaves?" "Well it doesn't quite work that way. Ultimate loyalty is always to the one at the top of the heap, whether that's a duke, baron or the king." "I notice you don't have one," Nesho said. "Yes, well enough about me," he answered gruffly. "What are some of the questions you have? I'll be able to answer some but if you want a great deal of detail you probably need to talk with Don teNeigho. He'd be able to tell you just about anything you need to know." He looked over at Dent expectantly. "They," Dent indicated the two women "tell me they feel different after the salidin were put on, like it was changing them, something more that just a mark of status. Maybe it would be better if they explained it." Vel raised his eyebrows and looked over at Nesho. "Yes," she said clearing her throat. "Originally we thought it was just another method of denoting our, ah, servitude." Vel again raised his eyebrows and Nesho looked over at Dent with a grin. "He doesn't like the term slave so we humor him when we can. "Anyway from the moment it was on and he touched it I could feel it change me, I felt different. Lately I think I can actually feel what Dent is feeling, especially at, ah, certain times," she paused and blushed then continued hurriedly. "Oh yes, I also seem to know where he is all the time, not exactly where but I could point to him whether he's in the next room or somewhere out in town. Is this normal?" "Oh yes, that's very common," Vel said grinning. "It depends on the strength of the bond. What you describe usually happens over a number of years. After a while nearly all bonded can tell you where their master is, we called them Liege Lords by the way, at least to extent of being able to point in their direction. "As for being able to feel what he does," here Vel grinned even wider and wiggled his eyebrows, "I've been told that many of the bonded have very interesting experiences with their Lieges, especially under, shall we say, intimate circumstances." He laughed aloud when all three of them blushed and refused to meet his eyes. "It's very common where there is a special affection between the two. Think of it as one benefit of being bonded. There are others but that one seems to be the most pleasurable. "There are other things you should know," he said turning just a bit more serious. "But you really need to talk to Don for the complete briefing. Usually he'll spend awhile with the new Liege and let him/her know what they need to do. He was in somewhat of a hurry the other day, which he feels bad about by the way, but he had things to do and wanted to avoid Garishnie if at all possible. Those two hate each other like you wouldn't believe. It wouldn't take too much for Don to kill the little rat-fucker so he tries to avoid him as much as he can." "Why do they hate each other so much?" Sosho finally entered the conversation. She still didn't like the captain but couldn't keep from asking. "Other than Garishnie is one of the most hateable people I've ever met? I know this sounds strange but Don really hates the institution of slavery, especially the way it is practiced here in the north, and Garishnie is one of the biggest slave procurers around here." "But Don teNeigho is the one who enslaved us!" Sosho sputtered. "Actually I'm the one who did that," Vel said softly. "I won't apologize; it's part of the job and besides I didn't make the world the way it is." He almost chuckled when he saw the look he was getting from the young woman. "Don doesn't consider what he did for you two as enslaving you. I know you don't see any difference but he does. To him he did you a favor, well not exactly a favor since he did get paid." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Let me ask you this: Do you think the priest who marries a couple thinks he is enslaving the woman by doing so? No? And yet I've seen on a number of the other islands that this is exactly what he is doing." "That's nonsense!" again Sosho sputtered, but Nesho was nodding, a thoughtful look on her face. "Is it? In Salas can a woman own property? Claim position in the political system? Keep any money she earns? Can she even say no if her husband wants to have, ah, marital relations with her? Not from what I've seen, she can't. Is she any less a slave than either of you or any other woman in this inn?" "But she's his wife," Sosho replied weakly. "Yes, but is there really a difference? I'll admit the analogy isn't perfect, very few are, but the essence is true. Don teNeigho doesn't look at it as enslaving you, he truly looks at it as a service in bonding you to your Liege. Is he that wrong? Are you really unhappy with the way it turned out?" "No, I guess not," she muttered. "But I can't be his wife!" Vel snorted and when Sosho looked like she was about to erupt Nesho reached over and patted her arm. "What the Captain is trying to say, dear, is that we are his wives regardless of what they actually call it here is Jeevel." "Actually there aren't many wives here in Jeevel," Vel continued. "Usually that's reserved for formal alliances between the major noble houses. Even then the wife has hardly any more privileges or rights than the marked mistress the husband is keeping in his bed. Less, really, since she will probably be kept closely guarded in their compound most of her life and unless stipulated in the marriage contract any product of their union has just as much chance of inheriting as the mistress's pups. It all depends on the noble acknowledging the baby. If he does then it's kept mark free; if he doesn't then it's marked right away and a slave for life." "But that's monstrous!" "Maybe," Vel shrugged, "but that's the way life here. You complain you can't be our Warrior's wife. In my homeland since you're bonded and bedded all it would take is making an entry in the Duke's ledger book and you would already be his wife, not that many people seem to worry about that formality." "But how do they know who's the father of any child?" Sosho continued doggedly. "Like the entry in a book tells you who slipped the seed to the bitch? Actually the O'Tech priests can tell who the father is pretty quickly. How? You'll have to ask Don about that. Ah here's our food, finally." True enough a very pretty young woman, maybe a year or two older than Sosho, walked up arms loaded with plates, bowls, a large serving dish of what looked like beef or mutton stew and a basket of bread. She had long brown hair, large doe-like brown eyes, thin waist and a bosom that seemed far too large for her frame. Although she politely served Captain Vel and Nesho she ignored Sosho while practically fawning over Dent. She fussed over his plate, buttered his bread and probably would have fed him herself except Sosho growled something about their drinks and she left promising to return immediately. Vel's eyes twinkled as he slathered a load of meat and gravy on a trencher made of a half a loaf of bread. He glanced over at Nesho who studiously avoided looking at him although it was obvious she was trying to stifle a laugh. Sosho was leaning over whispering in Dent's ear and while she was speaking low enough that her voice was drowned out by the general din of the inn, the subject and general theme of the one-sided conversation was obvious. Each of her terse sentences was emphasized by a jab of her finger into either his arm or his side. Although he didn't seem to feel her finger he grimaced every time she started another diatribe. "And she is worried about not being thought of as a wife?" Vel commented dryly. Nesho giggled and leaned over, "I'm afraid our innkeeper's oldest daughter has taken a liking to Dent and my daughter has taken offense at her attention." "Do you think?" Vel said grinning even wider. "Hmm, Kelei seems to think Dent should have at least three women or maybe needs to trade in one for her; she isn't all that subtle as to which one should be traded either. Sosho is young, with that and the newness of the relationship she feels a little threatened by her. Needless to say the past few days have been rather tense and Dent finally had to specifically tell her 'No knives'. He's not sure what to do about it so he just tries to ignore it. As you can see it doesn't always help." "She is a tasty little morsel," Vel needled her. "Aren't you even a little worried?" "Do you think I should be?" she said smugly. "Damn, woman, you are infuriating. I don't know how you keep from driving him insane. No, I don't think you have anything to worry about. He is as caught as a man can be." Nesho raised her hand and lightly brushed her salidin. "This bond, it doesn't go just one way, does it?" "No," Vel replied placidly and said nothing more about it for the rest of the meal. Captain Vel became a regular patron of the inn and while he wasn't there every night, six or seven out of a ten-day wasn't unusual. Most of the time he ate with Dent's family but even the few times they didn't eat there he could be found either by himself or more usually in the company of Marie. The tall innkeeper seemed to have taken a liking to the crusty giant and the feeling was definitely mutual. One night Vel mentioned to Nesho that he didn't see the animosity between Kelei and Sosho like he had before. "Oh I wouldn't say they are exactly friends," Nesho chuckled. "About a week ago Kelei was being more of a pest than normal and Sosho had enough. She up and told her in front of the whole inn to stay away from her man and if she needed it that badly Sosho would fuck her with a broom handle." "And Dent ignored that?" he asked amazed. "Be serious! Of course not," she laughed. "He took her upstairs and spanked her soundly. You would have thought he was skinning her alive from the shrieking we heard. Blood-curdling it was." "So that calmed her down?" "No, in fact it just got her, ah, excited. For the next hour we heard her shriek alright, but not from pain. When they came back down Dent looked like he had just fought his way through two armies and she, well she looked like a cat with a mouth full of feathers. He sat down, she plopped in his lap and started feeding him. I don't think she even looked at Kelei. Marie came over to Kelei and told her 'Honey just a bit of advice, if you want that man you're going to have to go through those two to get him. He's not going to give either one of them up for the likes of you.' Since then she's been very quiet. I don't know if Sosho scared her or listening to the two of them together did. Sosho wasn't holding anything back that day, not that she usually does." "Must run in the family," Vel joked and Nesho blushed. "I remember someone else getting a bit noisy at times. "I don't know what you could mean, Captain Vel," she said patting her hair into place. Vel laughed even harder. "Well this is all very amusing but I did have something I wanted to talk to Dent about, you too for that matter. He always says you're the brains of this outfit." Suddenly Nesho was very serious. "Captain," she said slowly, "I hope you don't really mean that. I know that Dent says I'm smarter than he is; doesn't mind telling anybody around us the same thing but you need to be very careful underestimating him. "I don't consider myself stupid but to determine which of the two of us is the smartest would be almost impossible. Do you understand what type of subjects he took at the academy? Physics, chemistry, mathematics, construction engineering and a whole plethora of social sciences. All this in addition to a full regime of military science, physical and martial arts training. He would be the first to admit he's no expert in any one of these subjects and I would agree, except maybe martial arts. I think he set a new standard while there with those; it's one of the reasons they wanted him to stay so badly. He can build a city or tear it down, create an army or destroy it. He can..." "Whoa mistress, settle down. I'm well aware of what he can do: remember, I saw it myself. What I meant is he defers to your judgment many times, rightly I think, and I have something to discuss with both of you." "I'm sorry, Captain," she sighed. "I get so tired of everybody thinking he's just a big-muscled brute. It's not fair and just not true." "I agree, but maybe you should wonder if he intentionally fosters that belief in those around him. Sometimes it's an advantage if everybody thinks you're not as bright as you really are." "Ah," her mouth snapped shut. Slowly she replied, "I suppose that could be the case. I've never known him to really care what others thought of him." "With a few exceptions I can think of," Vel said mildly. She briefly smiled at him but otherwise didn't respond to his chide. "It's possible. He can be a devious little devil and he would probably like it if everyone around him thought he was less... competent... than he really is. But I wonder why he makes sure everyone knows just how good he is at fighting?" "Oh, that's simple. Would you fight him if you had a choice?" "I hardly think I would be fighting him in any case, but I suppose not." "Why?" "That's silly, because he's too... Oh." Nesho colored slightly and grinned just a little. "It's pretty obvious, isn't it?" "Yes," Vel responded mildly. "In his position now -- and back on the ship for that matter -- there is a very good chance he or one of you two could be attacked. Probably not here in Harv'el but it could happen. If someone really wants to do it nothing will stop them, but his reputation will give most a second thought or two. "Anyway that's not what I wanted to talk about. Do you think you can drag him away from his arm fob over there for a moment?" Nesho grinned when she looked over and saw Sosho scrunched up next to her cousin trying to press as much of her body against his as possible. "I'll see what I can do, but she may come over as well. As you say she is practically a part of his clothing. It's actually kind of sweet but I'll see what I can do." "Oh bring her over if you must; nothing here's that much of a secret. Besides, I trust her discretion almost as much as yours." "Thank you kindly, Captain. Now let me see what I can do." Nesho rose and moved over to whisper in Dent's ear. Listening he looked over at Vel and nodded. Turning he spoke to Sosho who looked over at Vel with a slight frown and shook her head. Dent kissed her, got up and walked over to sit down with Vel and Nesho. "That girl can hold a grudge," Vel said dryly when they all were seated. "Sorry Captain," Dent said shaking his head. "She doesn't really mean to be rude but she never forgets and it takes some time for her to forgive. Sooner or later she'll get over it." "Just don't let me get on her bad side any more than I already am," Vel chuckled. "In any case that's not why I ask to talk to you two. I mentioned before I'm not anxious to take the Grip out again as a privateer, things seem to be heating up between Malshall and Jeevel right now and I don't want to be caught in the middle if I can help it." "So what is it you want to do?" Dent asked. "Cargo," Vel answered immediately. "General shipping and the like. The problem is nobody wants to ship anything now. Only about half is getting through and that makes the merchants very wary of sending anything at all. Oh, I will admit the prices you can charge are high, but there isn't enough available to carry to make it economical." "What about high-value merchandise?" Nesho interjected. "That would be one solution," he nodded. "But those with the real high-value good like silks, cloth or slaves just don't want to move them now; too high a risk." "So take the risk away," she returned. "How am I supposed to do that, little mistress?" he snorted. "Ask Malshall politely to move out of our way when they find us?" "The Grip is fast enough and strong enough I would think to handle anything from Malshall," Dent interjected. "Maybe," Vel pondered, "but how to convince the merchants to take that chance?" "Do you think you can do it?" Nesho asked. When Vel nodded she continued, "Then offer them a bond for the cargo. Guarantee it. Put monies equal to the value of the cargo in escrow here in Jeevel. If the shipment doesn't get through they get their money back." "That's fine but what if they sent nothing but junk, telling us it's worth more than it is hoping that we don't make it?" "Simple. Just charge based on the value of the cargo and not the weight. If they want to ship a copper's worth of trash and tell you it's worth a gold, why should you care? Charge them a gold's worth of protection. Set a minimum cargo value before you even set sail and your profit is already guaranteed. Then all you have to do is get it through." "Hmm, that could work," he said stroking his beard. "Are you sure you don't want to sell this one, Warrior? No? Well the offer's always open. But yes, this could work. It would be a trade-off between cargo and crew, which means fewer fighters to protect the ship..." "And I'm guessing that's where Dent comes in, isn't it?" Nesho said primly. "Ah, yes." "So you want me to train your crew." "And sail with then." "Of course. You want me under contract again?" "If that's the way you want it. A partner is more what I was thinking of, maybe associate. I want to start with the Grip but I'm thinking in the future maybe more ships, a real shipping company." "We could invest some of what we have and maybe receive payment in shares?" Nesho was getting a predatory gleam in her eyes. "Maybe," Vel said guardedly. "Although I'd rather just pay dividends, but maybe we could work something out..." For the next three hours they sat down and hammered out the details of the fledgling Southern Cross Shipping Company. ------- Chapter 20 Councilor Tamer deBrisil walked slowly through the dim hallway towards the Putram's official audience chamber. He was troubled now as he often was lately. Their economy was in the doldrums, trade was almost nonexistent, war with the powerful Malshall was becoming more of a reality every day and their young Putram was becoming a problem. As First Councilor, he was the head of the Citizens Council as well as one of its most prominent members. The Citizens Council was comprised of about one hundred and fifty of Jeevel's wealthiest citizens. All were free of course and most owned a substantial number of slaves. In fact, the council members owned more than ninety percent of all the slaves in Jeevel. Although nothing was established in either law or constitution, the Council picked the ruling Putram and could -- though it was a powere that had never been exercised -- remove him if needed. DeBrisil was beginning to believe the time to exercise that never-used power was at hand and it terrified him. The thought terrified him. First because it meant circumstances were quickly getting beyond their ability to control them and second, he wasn't sure they would be able to do it. Pausing before the ornate doorway he nodded at the two guards flanking it on either side. Guild Warriors, a horribly expensive way to guard your door, he thought. It also highlighted the potential problem in removing the present Putram. Guild Warriors made up an unusually large percentage of Jeevel's army. Not only were they the best fighting force he had ever seen assembled but they were also loyal to only one person, their contract holder, who just happened to be the Putram of Jeevel. Nodding silently, one of the guards acknowledged him and opened the door allowing deBrisil to enter. The young man sitting in the ornate chair was brooding again. His Excellency Westel deClover, the Putram of Jeevel, was in a foul mood and it permeated the audience chamber. "Well Brisil, I'm here," he snapped. "What do you want? I'm a busy man you know and don't have time for this foolishness." Tamer was proud of the way he could keep a placid smile on his face while his insides roiled and his hand practically shrieked to grab the insolent puppy by the throat. If much younger than his twenty-five seasons Tamer would have called deClover a spoiled brat at best and a crazed lunatic at worst. DeBrisil sighed to himself, unfortunately most of the fault for his present predicament fell squarely on his own shoulders and he knew it. When the last Putram died three years earlier, the position should have gone to him. It would have except that he didn't want it. The governing was acceptable, the power a useful extension of what he already had as First Citizen; but the rest of the nonsense that went with the job was boring and tedious. In what he thought was a stroke of insight, he found himself a weak-willed puppet to handle the mundane ceremonial duties leaving the real governing to him and others more capable of doing so. He still thought it was a good idea; it just happened he found the wrong puppet this time. Westel was young and from a minor House not normally involved with the politics of Jeevel, though they were well connected and had the support of many of the major Houses. Tamer's initial impression of the young man was that of a shallow, hedonistic and weak-willed wastrel, a nothing that could be made use of and wouldn't give them much trouble. He had been only partially correct. DeClover was shallow and very much hedonistic but he turned out to be more of a weasel than a wastrel. He was cruel to the point of sickness and had a cunning knack for solidifying his power that was only now starting to show itself. A case is point being the number of Guild Warriors he was bringing into his own personal service. Unfortunately, his cunning didn't seem to reach into the arena of governance where everything he touched seemed to turn to shit. His diplomacy was that of a bully and since Jeevel was by no means the largest nation in the area it was the bullying of the small against the very large. The results were predictable. "Your Excellency," deBrisil began, "the Malshallian ambassador has been demanding an audience with you for days now. He is incensed over the taking of the Vengeance Mine and is demanding not only its return but that we turn over those responsible." "So?" Westel threw a leg over the arm of his chair and examined his fingernails giving the appearance of abject boredom. "Tell him to go fuck himself. What do we care what he demands?" "We care because he's threatening war over this," deBrisil gritted his teeth. "Again, so? If he wants war then we give him war. It would be good to have this sorry business over and done with once and for all anyway." "You don't actually think we could win a war with Malshall do you?" deBrisil said aghast. "Their navy is twice our size and their army; they must have three times our number under arms!" "So, ours are better, aren't they?" the Putram frowned. You keep telling me we have no money for important things like my new summer palace because we spend so much on the military. It's about time they earned their keep." "But that's insane!" the First Counsil blurted. "Even if we kept them at bay it would destroy us! As it is, we can't ship our goods and nobody will trade with us because we can't guarantee their safety in our waters! Without trade we are nothing! A war would destroy what little we now have!" "Fine!" deClover said crossly. "So give them the damn ship and the fucking pirates. This is such a bore. Why can't they be reasonable like normal folk?" "Need I remind your Excellency that it was your policy of sending the pirates after their ships that brought this on?" "Well I had to," he whined. "They were lowering their taxes and port fees, taking away our rightful business. You said so yourself." "Yes, but I said we needed to respond by lowering our own and competing with them, not trying to stop their ships!" "Well this way was much cheaper. You yourself said we were low on funds. Do you know how much slaves cost nowadays? And that's just the plain ordinary ones; we're not even talking about something special" "If you didn't use them up so quickly you wouldn't need so many," Tamer pointed out. As with most slave owners, he wasn't concerned with the pain the Putram inflected on his victims; but the sheer waste of resources he saw appalled him. He would have felt the same if it had been horses or dogs they were talking about. "Besides we can't turn over the pirates to Malshall," he continued. "You know, or at least you should, that over half our 'navy' is made up of these privateers. If we gave up even one the rest would desert before the day was out." "So what do you want me to do about it?" the Putram complained. "At least talk to him. Offer him the ship, at least we have that. Tell him we will try to control the pirates. Rescind the order to attack their shipping. At the very least, for the god's sake, keep him talking. If we can keep them talking we may be able to work our way out of this!" "Fine! You do it. Tell that bag of wind I'm indisposed or whatever else you want to. Just keep him away from me!" "Of course, Your Excellency," deBrisil bowed his head. He had hoped for this. It would have been a disaster for the Malshallian ambassador to actually meet with the Putram. "I will take care of everything and have the decrees drawn up and brought over to you for your signature." "Whatever," deClover waved him away. "Just leave me alone now." Dent was sitting in the Cracked Cask' common room sipping on a tankard of blackberry juice when Vel and another person walked in. Nesho was sitting next to him thumbing through a stack of paper when she heard Dent grunt. Looking up she saw Vel and Don teNeigho standing just inside the doorway. She smiled and was about to get up and go get them when Dent waved and called out. Vel grinned when he saw them and strode over with the elderly teNeigho in tow. Dent and Nesho stood as they approached and after grasping Vel's hand gestured for them to sit down. "Oh I will in a bit," Vel said. "First I thought I might find Marie. I have something to ask her." "I'll just bet you do you old fraud," Nesho said with a smirk. "I think I saw her around back a few minutes ago. We can catch one of the girls to bring her out if you like." "No, don't bother. I'll see if I can find her myself." With that he walked towards the back bellowing her name. "I can't tell if he's courting her or just chasing her for sport," Nesho mused. "There's a difference?" Don asked with a twinkle in his eye. "I think there is," she responded primly. "Well then, I guess we will just have to see then, won't we?" he said still smiling. "Anyway Vel said you might have a few questions for me about your salidin. He also hinted there may be a meal in it for me?" his eyebrows lifted in question. "Of course!" Dent laughed. "You are more than welcome to join us for mid-meal. I was waiting for Sosho to join us before starting. That's my youngest wif... ah, woman." "Oh you can say wife to me, young fellow. Doesn't bother me one bit. I know here in Jeevel they don't allow marriage between Liege and serf but I for one think that's ridiculous, even a little grotesque." "Thank you Reverend Father. I think of them as my wives," he looked over at Nesho fondly. "And I don't much care if they like it around here or not." "Eh, Reverend Father?" teNeigho looked confused. "Now what's that all about?" "Well, Captain Vel and that asshole on the ship the other day called you a priest. I just assumed..." "Oh that," he waved his hand dismissively. "I'm no priest, young man, not even close. These superstitious barbarians don't know the difference between a Technician and a priest, and Vel, well I think he does it just because he knows it riles me!" "Ah, well, I guess I don't know the difference either then," Dent admitted. "But at least you're willing to learn, aren't you?" When Dent shrugged and nodded Don grunted and continued, "Technicians deal with technology, you know what that is, boy?" "Machines and things like that?" Dent answered with a slight frown. "Close enough," teNeigho grunted again. "In our case we deal with pre-Change technology." "I didn't think there was any left," Dent said puzzled. "Not much," he sighed, "not much at all, but there is still a bit around here and there. My order, if you want to call it that, is tasked with finding and bring back as much of it as we can. What do you know of the Change, boy?" "What most do, I suppose," he said shrugging. "Many years ago something happened, something so catastrophic it almost destroyed civilization." "Not almost, boy, did. Civilization was destroyed and we are the bumbling rag-tagged refuse of its destruction." "Do you know what happened? No one seems to know." "Pretty much, boy. We think the earth's magnetic field reversed." "You mean the thing that points the compass north? That doesn't sound like it would be all that devastating." "It probably wouldn't have been if not for two things," teNeigho held up two fingers. "One: this shift triggered massive changes in the earth's crust. Mountains rose while others fell; the seas rose, or at least the sea floor rose, and much of the dry land fell. Earthquakes and tsunamis covered what remained. The destruction was massive, catastrophic and almost instantaneous. Billions died as the earth's population was reduced by over ninety-nine percent. What little was left was scattered and didn't represent the intellectual cream of the ancients' society." "Are you saying we're descendents of the stupid ones?" "Not at all. What I mean is the intellectual and technological elite were concentrated in the large cities, none of which survived. It left a lot of people that didn't even know how to operate the machinery anymore, let alone build it. But that is neither here nor there since it was a moot point anyway." "Why?" "By the time of the Change, the power source for nearly everything they had came from cells that use the spinning of the earth and its magnetic field. When the fields reversed nothing worked. We still have quite a bit of their old knowledge, whatever was in printed form anyway, which was a considerable amount, let me tell you. But the most advanced was lost, possibly forever." "You said nearly everything was powered by these magic cells Don," Nesho interrupted. "That means there was still something left." "Oh course, my dear. After all, that is my job, to find and use as much of the old technology as possible." "Do you have an example of something from the old times?" "Certainly, you happen to be wearing just one such example." Nesho's hand went up to touch her salidin. "The salidin are one of if not the most common artifacts from the ancients. Hundreds of thousands are in use every day in the south." "They made so many of them? I had never heard the ancients had slavery to that extent," Dent said aloud. "I don't know if they did or not," Don shrugged. "And they didn't leave that many; we have learned how to make more. Before you ask, no I don't know how. Nobody who knows the process is allowed out of the O'Tech compounds." "Just what are you doing here in the north if I may ask?" "You just did, so I guess you can. Primarily I was sent here to look for technology that we may have missed and secondly to help spread salidin and their benefits." "Benefits? What benefit could there be to being a slave?" Dent snorted. "Hmm, do you feel like a slave dear?" Don asked looking over at Nesho. "No, but then I never knew what a slave felt like. I suppose it could be like this," she answered thoughtfully. "It's not the salidin that makes a person a slave, no more than a tattoo does. It's the slave masters that make the slave. Oh, some say it's the slave that makes the slave. That one truly isn't a slave until one gives in and becomes a slave, but I think that's ridiculous. When you're in chains and the punishment for resistance is death, what can you do? "In the south we don't have slaves; we have Liege Lords and serfs. Oh, Vel told you about this already? Good, that will make this quicker. Where was I, oh yes, anyway almost everyone has them and it makes for a very pleasant and orderly society. No Utopia mind you, but much nicer than up here." "So you really believe it would be better if everybody wore those things?" Dent asked. "Oh yes," Don nodded emphatically. "Now I know not everyone agrees, but have you asked your own lovely lady here how she feels about it?" "Ah, no," Dent mumbled embarrassed. "I've kind of avoided the issue, if truth be known." "Well why don't we ask her?" Both of them turned to Nesho expectantly. "I don't know what to say," Nesho said slowly. "You would think, no, I would think I should say no, never, it would be outrageous, but now I'm not so sure. I know why you call this being bound to another. You were right, I don't feel like a slave, I feel like I belong to Dent, or maybe just belong with him. Oh this is just so difficult to try to explain but it feels so right!" "Don't worry about it, little lady," Don said patting her hand. "It's very difficult for someone who doesn't have one to understand what you are feeling." Reaching up he pulled the neck of his robe down exposing his neck. There in its golden glory was a salidin identical in every way to the one around Nesho's neck. "As you can see I understand very well. Don't look so startled. I told you almost everyone has one where I'm from. Did you think I was a noble of some kind?" "So you're not here to proselytize a religion, you're here to propagate a way of life." "Not a bad of putting it, Warrior. That is what I hope to do. I want to expand the use of salidin. The system they have here is an abomination! You must admit any change would be for the better." "Well I'm not sure what you propose would be any better; it just seems wrong to me for some reason. But at least you're honest about what you want to do. Of course having another outlet for your trade goods, in this case salidin, wouldn't hurt either, would it?" "Maybe not," he grinned, "but that's not my primary mission. Nor is trying to convert you to my thinking, I'll leave that to your lovely ladies. Vel told me you had some questions about the salidin that I could possibly answer." "Yes," said Nesho. She looked over at Dent and he nodded for her to continue. "My daughter and I have been having some strange feelings since we put it on and were wondering if they were normal." "Well that depends on the feeling," Don answered placidly. "What were they? Can you describe them to me?" "I think so. First off, it seems I know exactly where Dent is all the time. I mean not exactly where, but I could point to him wherever he is." Don nodded his head, "It's part of the bonding, we can all point to our Liege Lords. I can even though she's thousands of miles away. That's normal. What else?" "Well, we, ah, seem to be able to feel what Dent is feeling, especially, ah..." She looked flustered and turned a pretty shade of dark red. "During sex you mean?" Don chuckled at her discomfort. "I'm sorry to laugh; I shouldn't since it embarrasses you but it's the most unmentioned benefit of having the salidin. It only happens between the bound and their Liege but I understand it is quite spectacular. I've never experienced it myself even though my Liege is a woman. She is quite happily married and not to me. In fact it happens fairly infrequently. The incidence of a bound and a Liege actually going to bed together is rather small, not so much here in the north but certainly in the south, but it takes more than just sex to cause the response." "More than just sex?" Nesho was interested now and even the talk of sex didn't dissuade her from asking questions. "Absolutely! Now I won't say there aren't some rather unscrupulous Lieges in the south and maybe one or two of them have worked their way through a bevy of beautiful bound wenches, but if they do, it's just sex. True, they can't refuse him but without an emotional attachment they don't get that flare. It's too bad; I understand it quite special." "Indeed it is," Nesho mused. "But you said they can't refuse their Liege. You sounded like you meant that literally, like they actually couldn't refuse. Did you mean that?" "Of course I meant that. You mean you don't know yet. Bless me! I don't believe it! How long have you had the collar? Two weeks?" Don looked over at Dent in amazement. "Good sir, don't you order your women around at all?" "Not much, I suppose," Dent said with a frown. "I usually just ask and they do it." "Two weeks? Two women?" teNeigho just shook his head. "You, young man, aren't married, you are in heaven." "What do you mean?" Dent and Nesho said simultaneously. "Here let me show you," with that he pushed a fork off the table. "You," he said pointing to Dent. "Tell her to pick it up. And you," now pointing to Nesho, "don't do it." Dent shrugged and turned to Nesho, "Nesho please pick up the fork." Nesho flinched and moved to do it, then she stopped and tried to straighten back up. A look or bewilderment and concern crossed her face as she began trembling and again bent toward the fork. "Nesho, what's wrong? Maybe you shouldn't..." but before he could finish she held up her hand indicating he should be quiet. Half way down to the floor she gave a loud snort and quickly bent down, picked up the fork and slammed it on the table. "I see what you mean," she said dryly. "What?" asked a confused Dent. "I had to do it; I had no choice. It was like my body was moving without my being able to stop it." Nesho pursed her lips and then sighed. "So this is what a slave really feels like." "I don't know about that but it's how the bound feel," teNeigho said with a kindly smile. "And is it really that different from the way you were two weeks ago?" "Well two weeks ago I at least had the choice." Then she sighed, "But no, it's not much different. It's not like I would have refused him anything anyway." "So there you go. True, you now are obligated to give obedience to your Liege, but you owed that anyway, so what is the loss? It really doesn't change you, by the way. You can hate your Liege before you're bound and you'll still hate him afterwards. You have to do what he tells you, but your emotions won't change. I've seen those situations before. The binding becomes a long and painful process, for the bound not the Liege, but that's not the case here so no need to dwell on it. There are other advantages I can tell you about and one or two cautions." "Let's begin with the benefits: The first you already know about." Nesho blushed again. "In addition to that your salidin helps your body fight infection, food poisoning, healing cuts, and so on. Basically it helps the body work better. You seem to age slower also. How old do you think I am?" "I would say sixty, maybe sixty-five seasons but from your question, you must be older." "Seventy-nine; eighty in another couple of ten-days." "Remarkable!" "Yes, so you see it isn't all bad. Now for some of the bad: It can never come off. If it does you will die. It doesn't matter if you want it to come off or not, you will die. Also if you do try to oppose the desires of your Liege you will feel discomfort and if you ever try to hurt him it will cause you pain, a great deal of pain. If you were to kill him... calm down this is just theoretical. As I was saying, if you were to kill him you would also die. This is a case where your intentions do matter. If he were to die some other way you would know it but you wouldn't die. Your salidin would reset; that means it goes back to the color it was originally, and you would be eligible for a new Liege. If your Liege had a Liege -- remember that's common where I'm from -- then yours would reset to that Liege." "Now a few other facts: Your binding cannot be transferred without your Liege's willing approval and even then it requires a Technician to effect the transfer." "Another interesting fact about salidin, more applicable to you as a woman: as it is, you cannot be taken against your will. Yes I mean raped. Not only can you not be raped but you can't be taken, willing or not, without your Liege's permission. Any man trying will get such a feeling of pain he'll wish his little man had fallen off rather than got stuck where it shouldn't have been." "Amazing!" Dent said. "Does that mean you can't, ah, you know..." "Yes that's exactly what I mean. If I tried it would be painful for both me and the woman, or man if I were so inclined, which I'm not, by the way. But luckily for me my Liege is very kind and has allowed me to find my comfort where I can. So it's not pain I have to worry about, it's finding a willing partner!" Just then Vel strode up to the table followed by Kelei and one of the other serving girls both carrying platters of food and pitchers of drink. Entering from the front door Sosho paused and looked around. Seeing Dent and Nesho she headed towards them. She had a smile and a kiss for Dent as she sat and a frown for Vel which he chuckled at. "Oh there you are, Vel! I thought maybe someone had captured you and was holding you for ransom back there, not that we'd pay a copper for your old hide anyway. And this must be your other lovely lady, Dent." "Yes, Sosho you remember Don teNeigho." She smiled briefly at the old man and gave Kelei a sniff when she thought the serving girl spent a little too much time arranging Dent's plate in front of him. "Old hide? Look who's talking, you old fart, and here I am bringing the meal with me. Don't get on that one's bad side," he said looking at Sosho with a grin. "She doesn't forget and I don't think she ever forgives either. "So did you get your questions answered?" he asked Dent. "Some," Dent admitted. "But there's still a lot we don't understand." "So who does?" teNeigho hooted. "I said we use them extensively down south, I didn't say we understood them. They are marvelous devices but we keep learning something new about them every day. The fact is we probably know only a fraction of what they are capable of. The truth is we don't even know what they were originally meant for although we're pretty sure it wasn't the way we're using them now." "You don't know what they were meant for?" Nesho asked. "Unfortunately no. There are many theories but they are only theories." "How do they work when nothing else does?" "That we do know, sort of. They use the bonded's own life energy to function as best we can determine. Almost like a parasite, although a symbiotic relationship would be more accurate. You understand what that means?" "Two or more organisms living together, each supporting the other," Nesho rattled off casually. "But you make it sound more like it's alive than just a machine or a piece of metal." "Very good," teNeigho said raising his eyebrows. "Vel said you were intelligent and now I can see he wasn't exaggerating." "I have training in herbal medicine and although I wasn't able to enter the Society's training I was able to obtain and read a number of the texts," she said, shrugging off his compliment. "Their loss I'm sure," said teNeigho. There was a muttered, "That's no lie!" from Dent, which she did favor with a smile. "But your observation is a good one," Don continued. "The salidin exhibit many aspects of life as we understand them but again in many ways they don't. Are they alive? I don't think so, but then who can really know? Maybe someday we will." "Can't you just read about them? See what the ancients said about them?" Dent queried. "Unfortunately," Don sighed, "most of their knowledge was kept in something they called Memory Crystals, without their machines we can't read them and without power for the readers... Most of the knowledge we have now is copied from books of paper that were very old even then since most had been transferred to the crystals. "The ones we had left were mostly from private collections and small libraries that were obsolete a thousand years ago, I mean seasons ago. None of these survive now, of course, so what we have is copies of these originals, sometimes copies of copies and translations of these copies. How accurate they are we don't know." "Translations, what do you mean by that?" "Many years before the Change there were hundreds of different languages. Peoples spoke differently; you literally couldn't understand each other unless you spoke the same language." "But how couldn't they?" Sosho blurted. She had been tying to keep quiet and out of the way but her natural curiosity still got the better of her. "I mean there's only one way to talk isn't there? How could they not understand each other?" "Sosho," Dent warned. "No, the child asked a good question," teNeigho chided, then he turned to Sosho. "By the time of the Change there was only one language remaining. It was really a mixture of a number of different languages but that is unimportant. What is important is that everyone could read, write and speak with the same words and meaning. But then communications were instantaneous and universal; everyone and everywhere were connected, keeping a common language was simple. "But languages evolve and change. Although our ancestors started with one language we have begun to grow apart. New words come into use in one area and not in another. Sometimes even the same words take on new meanings. If this progresses long enough then two people from different parts of the world won't be able to understand each other." "Oh," she said excitedly, "like the sailors on the ship! Sometimes I had to think twice to understand what they were saying." "Hmm, something very much like that although our language experts call what they have a colloquial idiomatic sub-dialect. Don't ask; it's not important. What is important is that when the same words mean different things or different words the same the original meaning of a text can be misunderstood. And since nearly everything we found in print was in its original language, you have to deal with the problems of translation. "We are blind men groping in the dark for something we don't have the basic knowledge to understand. It can be a frustrating but sometimes rewarding adventure." "Hmm," Dent interjected. "But getting back to the salidin question, please: From what I understand this thing actually did change her. Whether for better or worse I won't argue with you here, although I will tell you I don't like it. No one should be changed from the way they naturally are. It's just not right." "Now why would you say that?" teNeigho asked. "We change ourselves all the time. When you exercise you do it to increase your strength or muscle mass. Aren't you changing yourself? When we use medicines to fight infections we change the natural process of our body. Reduce pain, fight fever: they're all changes to our bodies. Why you are a result of one of the most massive and subtle changes to humans yet. Do you feel different?" "What do you mean?" Dent asked. "I haven't been changed." Then he looked a bit uncomfortable, "At least not that I know of." "Of course not," Don continued. "The changes I'm talking about happened generations ago, before the Change. Did you know that long ago people had trouble seeing as they grew older? In fact they had to wear contraptions over their faces just to be able to read! Their teeth used to get tiny holes in them and sometimes fall out altogether! Many people had fake teeth actually put in their mouth just so they could eat!" "That's ridiculous!" Dent sputtered. "If you lose a tooth it just grows back, same as if you lose a nail!" "Now that's true, but it wasn't always. Machinery wasn't the only thing the ancients could manipulate. They did it with plants, animals and even humans." "How could they do that?" Dent asked amazed. "We don't know," Don admitted. "But we know they did it because we have read about some of these problems and because we don't have them now something must have been changed. We don't know all of the changes they made and the ones we do know about have all been inferred from our studies. One of the most interesting changes is one that directly affects you as a Warrior." "What was that?" "At one time men used to kill each other from great distances using machines." "Huh?" blurted Dent, startled. "From a distance? That's impossible!" "I assure you it's true. They used to have little machines they held that threw little pieces of metal or even small spears. You don't look so good, are you all right?" "Ah, yes, I'm fine." Dent had turned a little pale and beads of sweat form on his brow. "It's just that, when you said that and I started to think about it, well I didn't feel very well." "That's what happens," Don said nodding. "You don't have any trouble fighting a man, or even killing him hand to hand with your sword, do you? Of course not! I've heard the stories of your battles. But if you even think of killing from a distance using something mechanical you get sick. We all do. In fact if you tried you would become so ill you couldn't do it." "Amazing," Dent whispered. "Amazing is right," Don agreed still nodding. "And before you ask, no, we don't know how and we're not sure why. Although we don't know exactly why it was done we do know what some of the results are from this meddling." "What?" "Well Warriors for one thing, a whole class of men whose sole function is close-in face-to-face combat. If it weren't for this change there wouldn't be any Warriors now would there? After all if you could kill by machine then everyone could be a Warrior." "This is quite a shock," Dent mumbled. "And those are only the changes we know about. Think about the ones we don't know about" "All this ancient history is very interesting I'm sure," Vel interrupted, "but I have news of a more recent and much more important nature." Don teNeigho grunted and started digging into the food in front of him. "Did you hear about the latest decree from the Putram?" He got mostly blank stares or a shaking of heads. "Jeevel has rescinded its support for the privateers; no more raiding." "That's good, right?" Dent interjected shaking his head to clear it from these startling revelations. "That means things are getting better between Jeevel and Malshall; that should be good for trade." "Maybe," Vel admitted. "I think someone finally realized they were heading for real war with Malshall and recognized they haven't a fart in a windstorm's chance of winning. It may help if Malshall stops their raiding also, but that's not guaranteed. Right now the merchants are still scared, with good reason I might add." "What it does do," he continued, "is make my decision very easy. If I can't raid then I either start shipping or retire altogether and I'm not ready to do that yet." "So you want to try moving some high-value cargo," Nesho said, "like we had talked about before?" "Yes. I've been talking to a number of merchants and they weren't too excited about the idea until I brought up the idea of bonding and guarantees of delivery. That made them stand up and take notice. Maybe things will get back to normal and maybe they won't, but until this little problem is settled between Jeevel and Malshall everyone will be nervous and I think we can make a very good profit moving their goods. When I mentioned the surcharge on guaranteed cargos they squealed like stuck pigs alright but they still wanted to know more. I have two or three shiploads ready to be contracted at just about any price, anytime we want to sail." "That sounds promising," Dent said tentatively. "It is. There are just a few little problems we need to take care of first." "What are they?" "First I need to get the Grip's holds reconfigured. I already have carpenters working on that, which will take a couple of weeks. The problem is it will cut down on the number of crew we can carry, specifically, the number of fighters we can carry." "How many do you think you can fit in?" "Thirty at most. The question will be is that enough to protect the ship? What do you think?" "With the right ones it should be," Dent mused. "The ones you had before, maybe. Depends how much training we could give them." "That's another problem; I don't expect to get many of them back, not this soon. A few have already spent their ship's share but there's only so much liquor and whores one sailor can go through in a given amount of time. Most of them haven't used theirs up yet. Common sailors won't be a problem -- with the shipping slowdown there are plenty around to choose from -- it's the fighters that will be the problem." "With just a couple of weeks to train them that could be a problem." Dent replied. "Let me think about it. I would say contract a number of Warriors but there aren't that many around here not under contract and anyway that would be very expensive. I'll ask around and see who's available. How have the ransom negotiations been going?" "Not well at all," Vel grunted. "Vengeance's Captain wasn't any problem at all. You were right about that one: Malshall's ambassador paid up for him right away without even dickering about the price, but the crew is a different story. He said they wouldn't pay a copper for a crew that couldn't beat a bunch of pirates, and that's almost exactly how he said it. Said he didn't care if we sold them all as slaves, it's what they deserved. I suppose I'll have to do that but with the slowdown in trade the mines aren't working very much and male slaves are worth almost nothing, maybe a few silver apiece if I'm lucky." "Do they know about this?" "No. They're just sitting around in that barracks we set up for them eating me out of house and home," Vel groused. "Maybe I see a solution to our problem," Dent ventured. "I wonder how they would feel if they found out what their own country thinks about them?" "What you getting at, Warrior?" Vel asked guardedly. "Well they are trained fighters. Given a couple of weeks, we could probably bring them up to acceptable levels and my guess is they would be glad to work cheap. Especially if the only other option is the mines." "Could be, but could we trust them?" "I don't know," Dent admitted. "How do you trust anyone? At least we can ask and find out. How many survived?" "About twenty of the regular crew and thirty-five marines. Two or three of them might be too seriously wounded to be of any use." "Why don't you let rumors spread about what Malshall said? Give it a day or two and then I'll go talk to them. We'll see what happens. If it doesn't look feasible, then we can look at recruiting someone else." "Worth a try," Vel said with a shrug. ------- "Well I don't like it!" Sosho said with a pout. "I don't see any reason for you to go anywhere, especially with him!" "Sosho," Dent said tiredly, "we've been over this before. We have to do something and this is probably one of the best options that I can see anyway." "But why do you have to go?" she whined. "Why can't you just stay here? Get a contract here in town. I heard tell there are plenty of openings in Jeevel's army for Warriors, and you could stay here with us!" "Maybe," he said patiently, "but what if they send me to war? I could be gone months, possibly even years. This is a two-week trip, two and a half if the weather is against us. I know you don't like Vel, but this could be very good for us." "Yes, dear," Nesho said using her "I'm talking to a child having a tantrum" voice. "If this works out, we could be getting in at the beginning of a very important and lucrative business. Dent is doing this for us more so than for himself, and you know it." "I don't care," Sosho sobbed. "I don't want him to go!" Dent pulled her down into his lap and gently stroked her hair while she cried into his shirt. Dent look over at Nesho almost pleading with his eyes. She just shrugged back. "I don't want to see him go either," she continued, "but he has to and it's our job to make do and ensure he has a home to come back to. You are still young, I know, but you're a woman now and sometimes a man's business takes him away from home. It's something we have to live with." "You know we have enough money to last us for a while my love," Dent said softly trying tosoothe the blubbering girl. "But it won't last forever and I certainly can't ask you and Nesho to support us on what little you can make. This is a chance for me to do something other than contract out. You know I never really cared about doing that anyway. "We could become independent, do what we want, go where we want. Wouldn't that be nice?" Sosho nodded her face still buried in his chest. "Now I don't want to leave you here either, but there's no way you can make the trip with me; there just isn't room now. Besides, you need to stay here and help Nesho. You know, with the baby coming and all that." Nesho just rolled her eyes and Dent grinned as he looked at her still-flat stomach. "All right," Sosho sniffed and lifted her head, "but if you run off and get killed I'll never speak to you again!" "I know," he chuckled. "Why don't you go get ready for bed? We'll be in shortly." Nodding she gave him a quick kiss, another sniff and scampered into the bedroom. "The baby coming and all that?" Nesho chuckled. "It's still going to be quite awhile for that." "I know," he sighed. "But it gives her something to keep her mind off the trip. I don't like leaving you two here alone, but there's just no way I can bring you." "Don't fret about it," she chided. "We'll be fine here and we're not alone. It's not like you're the only man who had to go off for business, and everything we said is true: this is too good an opportunity to pass up." "I know, it's just that she's been so moody lately. It's not, ah, that time of the month again is it?" "Hmm, maybe," Nesho said thoughtfully. "Or maybe it's something else. No matter; you just get your job done and let me take care of the rest. Now bed sounds like a wonderful idea to me. Join us?" "With pleasure, my lady, with pleasure!" ------- Chapter 21 Vel planned to surreptitiously leak the Malshall ambassador's response to the Vengeance's remaining crew using the slaves who brought them breakfast each morning. Dent was anxious to get started but knew it would be better if they had a bit of time to think about this news and what it could mean to them. Instead of lounging around the apartment all day waiting, he decided to go to the Guild Hall for a little practice and to find out if there were any warriors available for their trip. Luckily he found Jon right away and had a quick answer to his question. "Don't know of anyone available at present," he said stroking his chin. "Every swinging dick that wanted a contract has one, except for maybe a few of us old-timers that is. I sure a hell ain't taking a contract that puts me at sea. Silvia would kill me if the sea air or the food didn't. "I'll ask around, though. You never know, someone may be getting bored. I do know a few whose contracts are coming due for renewal in the next few weeks. Maybe they'd be interested, especially if this trouble with Malshall is quieting down. You're looking fairly short term, aren't you?" "Yes, short term for right now," Dent admitted. "A month of training soldiers and then one or two voyages, just until we see if it will work." "Well good luck, I'll see what I can do." Dent was able to get in a good workout and had just finished sparring with a few of the regulars when someone he'd never seen before approached him. He was a good three inches taller than Dent and powerfully built with a swagger he had seen in a number of his brother warriors, although few enough in the older veterans. He strode up and set himself in front or Dent as if to prevent him from leaving. "You, Dent?" he growled." Dent nodded, wondering what was going on. "I have a message from my employer." "Well that could be interesting depending on who your employer is, what the message is and who you are," Dent answered mildly. "I am Escaro, chief of the Guard for House deBabear." When Dent failed to react he frowned and continued, "Garishnie deBabear is head of that household and has a message for you." "Garishnie, is it?" Dent grinned causing Escaro to frown even more. Dent didn't usually make snap judgments of people he didn't know, but he was really beginning to dislike this pompous ass. Instinctively he knew smiling and acting calmly would piss off his unwelcome visitor probably more than anything else he could do, so he did it. "I can't imagine there would be anything he could say that I would be interested in but I suppose if you have been tasked with delivering a message, than you must do your duty." He was right. Inferring Escaro was little more than a messenger boy worked almost as well as poking him with a sharp stick. Escaro's face took on an interesting shade of purple as he fought to control his temper. "You had better listen, you little piece of newborn shit, if you know what's good for you." Escaro paused momentarily trying to compose himself. "The honorable deBabear knows you are in possession of two slaves, a mother and a daughter. He knows they have been bound with salidin and even given that he is willing to purchase them from you for the sum of twenty gold." "Oh, is that all he wants," Dent said relaxing. "This is easily taken care of then. The answer is no." "He thought you would answer so. I am to tell you that this offer is not for himself but that he is acting as an agent for a very powerful lord here in Harv'el." "Oh, and who might that be?" "I can't say, but he is powerful, very powerful." "Somewhat more interesting, but my answer is still the same." "Thirty gold then." "Same answer: no." "You cannot say no to this, little man," Escaro growled. "I can, I have and I will." Putting his hands up as if to stop the big man Dent went on, "Before you make another offer you can save your breath. They are not for sale at any price. Go back and tell your master that is my final say in this matter." "He is my employer and not my master!" Escaro fumed. "You will regret this decision." With that he turned around and stalked off. "I see you met Escaro." It was Brent the older warrior he often sparred with. "It would seem," Dent mused. "What do you know about him?" "My old mammy told me once if a hundred times, 'If you can't speak good of a body say nothing.'" "So what do you have to say about him?" Dent asked with a grin. "Nothing," Brent replied with a wink. Escaro knocked on the doorframe outside Garishnie's study and hurried inside without waiting for an answer. Garishnie was sitting behind a desk with ink stylus and paper spread out in front of him. "Were you able to talk to him?" Garishnie demanded before Escaro could say anything. "Yes," Escaro grunted. "He refused, said he wouldn't sell them for any price, the idiot. Even the best pussy in the world isn't worth what you offered him." "Some people get sentimentally attached to things," Garishnie replied shrugging. "It doesn't make sense but it happens. The question is how do we deal with it. His Excellency is acting quite strangely about this for some reason. I wish I'd never told him about them; this is going to be a problem I can tell. He hasn't even seen them and he's demanding that I produce them immediately. I'm beginning to think he's a bit mad." "So let's just kill this little prick and take them," Escaro recommended. "We can't do that!" Garishnie snapped. "You of all people should know what trouble the Guild can cause if something like that got out." "Fuck the Guild," Escaro spat. "All they do is take my money and give nothing in return. If I could get anywhere near the money as an independent I'd never set foot in one of those holes again!" Wisely Garishnie didn't point out the faulty reasoning inherent in the warrior's last statement. He got twice the pay he would as an independent and paid only ten percent to the Guild. Some people wished to remain blind and it suited Garishnie to have a Guild Warrior who wasn't particularly loyal to his guild. Escaro was useful for jobs that at times required a flexible sense of morality. ""You can afford to say that," Garishnie said dryly. "Unfortunately I can't. If the Guild were to find me, ah, acquiring a member's property under less than legal circumstances it could be disastrous if not deadly." Escaro grunted assent. He may not like the Guild for whatever reason but he wasn't stupid enough to underestimate its power and influence. "What I really need and don't have is some other bit of fluff that I can give him to take his mind off these two," Garishnie mused. "Sell him your daughter," Escaro said laughing as Garishnie grimaced. "I would never sell my daughter to that monster!" Garishnie stated. "At least not at a price he'd be willing to pay." They both started laughing at that. Dent walked down the street quickly trying to keep up with the bubbling Festou. Vel sent the boy to lead him to the barracks where the ex-Malshallian frigate's crew was being housed. Soon they came to a rather ordinary-looking warehouse with no guards at the door. None were needed; after all where would they go? Opening the door Dent entered and looked around. It was little more than a large room with rows of cots and a few large lockers. Men in the light blue of the Malshallian navy were sitting, lying down or standing in small groups talking. The low murmuring slowed to a stop when they noticed Dent standing by the door. As a group they started towards him, those passing the cots shaking their sleeping comrades awake. In a few moments the entire group of about fifty men was standing around Dent in a large semicircle looking at him sullenly. Finally someone spoke up, "You here to tell us the bad news?" Another piped in right behind, "Yeah our own country doesn't want us. You going to send us to the mines now?" Slowly he scanned the crowd, heartened by the fact that most would meet him eye to eye even though they felt he brought about their doom. Every once in a while he could see eyes widen as their owner recognized him as the one most responsible for their plight. "I'm here to bring you news," he began. "It may be good or bad depending on how you wish to take it." "First the bad news: It would appear you have heard of your ambassador's response to our demand for ransom." The murmuring started again and continued as he spoke. "It's true, Malshall has refused to deal with us for your return. In fact they said they don't want you back at all. Said they won't have anyone who can't beat a bunch of pirates." The murmuring grew louder and began to take on a definite angry tone. "I think that is not only unfair but foolish on their part," Dent said speaking up to be heard over the din. The murmuring quickly quieted until the room was silent. "It's true you were beaten but you fought well. None of you need to hang your head in shame. You fought well but this time victory wasn't yours." "I can imagine what you must be feeling now: Frightened, because you have been abandoned. Scared, because you think you will now be sold into slavery and, who knows, maybe even sent to the mines." "Let me first say that won't happen." The murmuring started up again this time with an almost questioning tone. Raising his voice again Dent continued, "You won't be sold as slaves and you won't be sent to the mines. You will be released as free men, able to go where and when you please." "What good will that do us?" someone shouted after a few minutes of quiet. "We're hundreds of miles from home without a copper to our names!" Dent shrugged, "For those of you who want to leave, I can't do much about that." He waited a few seconds, "However for those who wish to stay maybe I can help." "What do you mean, stay?" another asked. "I mean stay, in my employ." The faces he saw now were shocked and somewhat subdued. "I am looking for men to man ships," he explained. "We are forming a new shipping company and are going to be looking for both sailors and marines. The pay won't make you rich and it may be extremely dangerous but it will pay and you will be free." "Who do we have to fight?" "Anyone who attacks our ships and yes, that could conceivably be Malshall." Raising his hands to quiet the crowd again Dent continued. "I know you're going to have questions. I don't know if I have all the answers but I will try." One who looked like a sailor raised his hand and asked, "Some of us have families in Malshall. What do we do about them?" "We knew some of you might," Dent admitted. "We think we know a way for you to bring them here if that is what you want. It probably won't be soon and I know it won't be easy but we will try. I don't know if it would be safe for any of you to return to Malshall right now but there should be a way for us to get messages to anyone there if you need to." "One more thing," Dent said. "If any of you marines decide to sign on with us you will be trained in a different method of fighting than you're used to, the same method I trained the sailors on the Death Grip. This will be required. If you don't want to, or can't change, then don't bother to sigh up." There were questions concerning this new training and although some were skeptical it didn't seem to pose as much of a barrier as Dent originally thought it would. It would seem that expatriates with unknown futures can be more flexible in their outlook towards new concepts than others. "I'll give you two days to decide," Dent said. "You can send a messenger either to the Death Grip at the docks or the Cracked Cask in Cooperstown. For those of you interested, training will begin in a few days. I need to find facilities, but once I have, we will start." "I don't need two days," said one grizzled older marine. "If Malshall doesn't want me then I'm yours. I do have family back there, though, and if we can get a message to them I would appreciate it. We'll see about moving them later." "You'd have to get the garrison's dick out of your old lady's cunt before you could move her!" someone shouted from the back. Everyone, including the older soldier laughed at that. "If you've made your decision, that's fine," Dent grinned, "but if you need more time, you know where to find me. We'll begin enrollment when I find the facilities. For those who wish to join us, I'll see you there; for the rest of you, may luck be with you." "So they agreed?" Vel finished his wine and pushed his plate back on the table away from him. One of the serving girls picked it up quickly and left after he patted her on the butt. "It seems so." Dent was trying to finish his own meal as they talked. The Cracked Cask wasn't busy at the moment since the noonday rush was over and the evening meal still hours away. "I don't know exactly how many we will get but I would guess most if not all will join. I can tell you they were pretty pissed off. "How could Malshall be so stupid? Certainly the cost of training new troops would be more than the small amount you were asking for their return. It doesn't make sense." "Politics, my young friend, politics," Vel grunted. "Malshall was sending a message, both to Jeevel and its own people. Politics doesn't always make sense and sometimes the gesture is worth more than the cost. In this case the gesture is an empty one as far as we're concerned and beneficial for us on top of it." "If we can get them, that's good," he continued. "So you'll start looking for somewhere to train soon?" "This afternoon or tomorrow morning at the latest. I'm taking Marie's nephews with me. They seem to know their way around the docks and I figure there should be some empty warehouses or something available down there. Plus, it'll be easier moving the gear back and forth from the ship if it's closer." Vel dropped a small bag on the table, it clinked. "Here's some money to rent what you need. I agree the docks are probably the best place to start looking. "Now there are still a few questions I need answered before we can continue. The first being who can we get to hold the bond for us? I thought of the Sailors Guild but I'm not sure the merchants would agree." "You really need to talk to Nesho about that," Dent replied, waving his hand. "But if you're looking for a neutral third party you might want to consider my Guild. I doubt any would dispute their adjudication of any contract." "True," Vel mused. "But that would mean you'd need to be involved in the contract itself." "Maybe, but it might be enough for me to be a partner no mater how small a part I take in it. I'll have Nesho contact the Guild contract representative. They should be able to tell us quickly if we can work through them. If they are willing it should be fairly easy to accomplish and to tell the truth I'm not sure I'd want to do business with anyone who's not willing to work through the Guild." "Again, true. Your Guild may not be known for its compassion but it's scrupulously fair and holds both sides to the letter of the contract. Good! That takes care of that then! Now for the next thing: Dent that woman of yours is going to drive me mad! She has been working on the bookings for our cargo and I swear she is more shark than human!" "What's the problem?" Dent asked with a grin. "She's having the merchants bidding on space and I can't get a firm grip on just what cargo we're going to be carrying! It keeps changing day to day!" "Just tell her when you have to know and I'm sure she'll get it for you. Is it really a problem?" "No," Vel muttered. "That's not it. It's just, well, damn it, she treats me like I'm some kind of village idiot. I've been sailing, trading and shipping for more years than you've been alive and she just smiles, pats me on the cheek and tells me to be a good boy and go look after the ship!" "Do you think they're taking advantage of her? Is the profit in jeopardy? I can tell her to back off and let you take care of it if you want." "Damn it, no! That's what's so infuriating! She already has cargo scheduled that will bring us twice the profit I expected and she's not done yet." Vel sighed and leaned back in his chair. "To tell the truth it hurts my pride to see a mere woman besting me at what I do best." "Welcome to my world," Dent grinned. "I told you she was smart. When she gets it into her mind that something is best for us I wouldn't bet on anyone in her way. You know ships; she knows numbers. If you want my advice, let her worry about the cargo and you and I will take care of the ship." "I know, I know," Vel sighed again. "It's just the merchants don't like dealing with a slave even if she is my agent." "Fuck them!" Dent declared, no longer smiling. "If they have a problem with that they can find someone else to move their crap. If they have a real problem with it they can talk to me about it, personally." "Yeah," Vel chuckled, "I doubt you'll get many takers on that. You're right though: I need to stop whining. She's good at this and I'd be a fool not to let her go ahead with what's she's doing. Doesn't mean I have to like it though." Dent just shrugged and smiled back at him. "Exactly, well I guess this little boy better get down to the Grip and see what those fools have screwed up today. Barring any major stupidity, we should be ready in about three weeks. Will we have a contingent ready in that time?" "We'll have to be, now won't we? It shouldn't be a problem. If we get most of the crew from the Vengeance they're already trained fighters. I'll just be polishing their skill and adding a bit to it. They'll be ready." "Good, then I'm off for the docks." Just as Dent was finishing Sosho swept into the main room and hurried over. Kelei was removing his dishes but Sosho ignored her and flopped down in his lap giving him a big kiss. "Hello, Master mine," she said happily. "Hello to you, sweet thing," he answered. "What've you been up to and why so happy today?" "Well first I want to apologize for being such a bitch lately; I'll make it up to you I promise." Dent started to disagree but she put her hand over his mouth. "None of that. I know how I've been acting and I wanted to say I'm sorry. But second, I want to ask a favor." "You haven't been a bitch," Dent was finally able to get out, "and what do you want? You know you can have anything I can reasonably give you." "Thank you, but what I want is to use the spare room. Marie seems to think I can do well as a dressmaker here but I need somewhere to work and do the fittings. I asked Momma but she said I needed to ask you first." "Of course you can. In fact if that room's not big enough, I'm sure we can find you an empty shop around here somewhere to use." "Thank you, oh masterful one," she said squirming around in his lap. The feel of her soft bottom was doing wicked things to his cock and he started to harden. Feeling it, she grinned and bounced up and down a little but continued on as if nothing was out of order. "I don't need anything like that yet; maybe sometime, but not now. With you and Momma working so much lately I've been bored and this will give me something to do." "Well, we do want to keep you out of trouble." Dent was thinking that if she kept up what she was doing she was going to get herself dragged upstairs and fucked until she couldn't walk; that should keep her out of trouble for a while at least! But before he could take his thought from idle speculation to action Nesho and Marie walked in and sat down next to them. "Hello, Master," Nesho said after giving him a kiss of her own. Dent shook his head slightly at his women's inclination to call him Master when in public. They had even started doing it in private and while it still bothered him somewhat, he might as well talk to the wall as get them to stop. "Did you get a chance to talk to the Vengeance's crew yet? How did it go?" "Yes I did and it went fine. Marie, I'll be needing your layabouts again, I need to look for..." He was interrupted when a messenger in the Putram's colors entered the Cask and announced, "Is there a Warrior Dent here?" Sosho slid off his lap as he stood up and waved the man over. "I'm over here," he called. The messenger strode over, bowed and then handed him an envelope. Dent opened it and read it quickly. "We are invited to a reception at the Putram's Palace in five days," he said. "We?" asked Nesho. "I assume so," he responded. "It says 'Escort encouraged.' I assume if I'm supposed to bring escorts, it would be you two." He looked over at the messenger, "I'm correct, I can bring anyone I want to?" "Perfectly acceptable, sir," the messenger replied. "May I have your answer?" "Oh you must go," gasped Marie. "You can't refuse!" "I suppose you're right. Nesho, Sosho would you like to go to the reception with me?" Sosho clapped her hands together and giddily nodded her head, yes, while Nesho frowned slightly but also said yes. "You can tell the Putram that of course we will be most honored to attend." "Very good, sir. Would you happen to know where I could find a Captain Torken Vel?" Dent told him he should be down at the docks with the Grip. The messenger thanked him and left. "I wonder what this is all about?" Dent mused. "I don't know," Nesho said slowly, "but I suppose we'll find out, now won't we?" "Oh it's so exciting!" Sosho gushed. Then she wailed, "But we have nothing to wear!" "I guess you'll just have to make yourself some new dresses, now won't you? Looks like your first customer will be yourself," Dent said grinning. "And you," Sosho said sternly. "We certainly can't have you looking like a ragamuffin, now can we Momma? Oh I'll need cloth and some lace... We need to go shopping!" Nesho sighed, "Yes I suppose we do." Later that night as Dent, Nesho and Sosho were eating Vel stormed into the inn growling. "This is a silly business," he snorted as he sat down beside them even before Dent could offer. "I suppose you also got an invitation to his Excellency's dress up party." "Yes we did." Dent had to smile at Vel's obvious distress. "Why? Don't you want to go?" "Of course not! I don't have time for this nonsense. Besides, they want me to bring an escort and I certainly don't have one. Maybe I could borrow one of yours?" "I don't think so. I'm taking both with me. Do you mean to tell me that in all of Harv'el the famous Captain Vel of the Death Grip can't find someone to go to the Putram's party with him?" "Of course I can! Why with the snap of my fingers I could have someone just like that!" "Is that so?" Dent said baiting his partner. Noticing Marie was walking up to the table he continued to needle Vel. "I think I'd like to see that. Do you suppose you could show me how you do it?" "What would you like to see this old fraud do?" asked Marie, standing next to Vel. "The Captain was going to demonstrate how with the snap of his fingers he could obtain an escort to the Putram's reception." "Oh he was, was he? Well this I would like to see also." "Fine!" Vel growled his face turning red. Turning to Marie he snapped his fingers in front of her face and stated loudly, "You, woman! I want you to accompany me to the reception." "How very nice, Master Vel," she said gently and then suddenly she snapped her fingers back at him and snarled, "You forgot one little thing, you big blowhard. I don't belong to you!" "Are you saying you won't go with me?" he roared and jumped to his feet. "Are you asking me or telling me?" she thundered right back coming almost nose to nose with him. "I'm asking!" he shouted, his face now turning purple. "Oh well, in that case, then yes I would be glad to accompany you to the reception so long as my master's seneschal agrees," she said sweetly and turned to walk away. "Fine, I'll talk to him myself tomorrow," Vel called to her back. Rolling his shoulders he sat down again and said, "See, that was easily done." Sosho started giggling and even Nesho couldn't hide her smile. Vel looked at them with surprise and then said to Dent, "What?" "I don't think I've ever seen anything so funny!" Sosho was still giggling as they prepared for bed that night. "You mean Vel and Marie?" Nesho asked. "Yes it was just a bit. I don't know if those two are made for each other or just deserve each other." "She'd better watch out," Dent quipped. "He's apt to go ahead a buy her and then where would she be?" "My guess is right where she wanted to be," Nesho mused. "Really?" Dent asked with surprise. "I knew he was interested in her, but she in him?" "Oh, she hasn't really said anything one way or the other," Nesho said with a grin that quickly turned to a frown. "Remember, she isn't free to make those kinds of decisions. Yes, she can play around with whomever she may so long as her Master allows her. But to actually develop something deeper? She can't even think of it." Nesho cocked her head slightly as if thinking, "But I think she would like to, maybe even dream about it." "With Captain Vel?" Sosho quipped. "Yuck!" "Are you ever going to let that go?" Dent sighed with exasperation. "Maybe," Sosho huffed. Dent just shook his head. "I think maybe we should just go to bed," he said as he started to unlace his trousers. "I agree, master dear," Sosho's eyes gleamed as she rushed over to help him take off his clothes. "And I'm not a bit tired." "Well you may just have to wait your turn junior wife," Nesho said as she came up behind him and started pulling his shirt back and off his shoulders. "Oh, no you don't," Sosho complained. "You got to go first last time; it's my turn now!" "Just who do you think you're talking..." "Ladies!" Dent interrupted. "I thought we agreed there wouldn't be any fighting." The girls looked sheepish for a moment but then Sosho got an impish gleam in her eye and said, "Well who do you want to go first, Master?" "Oh, no you don't," he said. "I will not pick favorites. Besides maybe I want both of you at the same time." "You may want many things, my dear," Nesho said as she reached around his front and grabbed his cock. "But last time I looked there was only one of these. One cock, one woman." "True," Dent grinned, "but that's not the only thing I have to offer." He leaned forward and licked Sosho's nose. At first she drew back wrinkling her nose then she thought twice and gave him a slow sultry smile. "This could be interesting, not only do you want two women in your bed but you want them at the same time. Just how do you plan to do that, great one?" "Well maybe we should finish getting ready for bed and then I'll show you." Soon his clothes were on the floor and he was helping the two women shed theirs. In no time Dent had a naked woman under each arm, hands gently fondling a breast and kissing one then the other. "Come here," he said pulling them over to the bed. "I don't know," Nesho said tentatively. "I mean yes we have been in the same bed when each of us has been making love, but never doing it at the same time." "Well there is a first time for everything isn't there, dear heart." He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Besides, don't you think it will be deliciously naughty to have the daughter riding her lover's tongue while her mother fucks herself on his cock?" Nesho visible shivered and glanced at Sosho who just grinned back. Releasing the girls Dent lay down on the bed. Sosho immediately straddled his head facing his feet and lowered herself until she could feel his tongue start to lap at her cunt lips. Moaning she moved back until he could reach the little pleasure nub at the top of her slit. As he attacked the center of her pleasure she looked over at Nesho and grinned, raising her eyebrows she looked at his cock jutting up from his groin and then back at her mother. Nesho paused for a moment then tentatively straddled his hips. Reaching down she grabbed his cock and rubbed it back and forth across her drenched cunt lips. After the head was thoroughly wet she placed him at her center and slowly lowered her hips, impaling herself on him an inch at a time. When their groins finally met she closed her eyes and threw her head back moaning, letting the sensation of being completely filled wash through her body. A few moments later she began to flex her legs raising and lowering herself up and down his shaft. Opening her eyes Nesho was greeted to a most amazing site, it was herself! No, it was her as a young woman looking back at her! Nesho's eyes locked to Sosho's and they stared at each other as sensations coursed through their bodies. Nesho noticed the almost painful grimace on Sosho's face but knew that pain wasn't what caused the expression. She wondered if her own face mirrored what she saw. Glancing down she looked at Sosho's groin. She could see Dent's chin jutting out and occasionally his tongue as it parted the folds of her daughter's cunt, first diving deep and then up to tease her clit. The sight did something to Nesho and her eyes shut again while an orgasm flashed through her body even as she began to speed up her own thrusting on the cock buried deep within her. The sight in front of her mesmerized Sosho. Nesho was bouncing up and down on Dent's cock, which under other circumstances might have made her envious except for the fact his tongue was doing devastating things to her at the same time. Nesho was looking down and suddenly screamed; she shook and her fat breasts jiggled in a way that fascinated the young woman. Without thinking she reached out and grabbed the quivering globes with both hands and gently squeezed. The feeling was similar to what she felt when she played with her own, but for some reason different in an exciting way. Caressing the sides of Nesho's breasts Sosho's fingers worked their way around to the front where they tweaked and fondled the already engorged nipples. Nesho's head shot up and she stared in amazement at who was touching her. For a while Nesho was lost to her orgasm. As she slowly descended from her peak she felt the feather-light touches on her breast that she so much enjoyed. This kept going for a few minutes until she realized Dent's hands were firmly grasping her thighs. She opened her eyes and gasped as Sosho pinched her nipples even more firmly. Without conscious volition her own hands came up and gently cupped Sosho's firm globes as both women shuddered with repressed desire. Sparks seemed to jump between the two sets of eyes as the cock in one's cunt and the tongue in the other drove them close to mutual climaxes. Whether one began to lean towards the other or both did it at the same time, neither one could say later. What was known was that as they climbed close to their peaks they were suddenly pressed together as much as their positions would allow, lips mashed together and tongues intertwined. It didn't feel strange to Nesho to be kissing her daughter like she would a lover; it felt exciting! Her lips were so much softer than Dent's, as was her skin, a plush feeling instead of velvet over rock. As she was getting used to during sex, Nesho could feel Dent's oncoming climax through her bond. Although she rarely fainted during his orgasm anymore it never failed to take her to unequaled heights of pleasure, but this time was different. There was someone else in the mix now. She could sense Sosho's excitement peaking it tune with her own, both woman were poised and ready just waiting for their lover to push them over the precipice. To Nesho the wait was both excruciatingly long and far too short. Her bond told her Dent was about to climax at the same time she felt him grow larger inside of her. Ecstasy hit her and she screamed into Sosho's mouth at the same time Sosho did the same. Pleasure more intense than she had ever felt burned through every nerve in her body and then there was nothing but darkness. "I think she's waking up," Nesho heard faintly as if from a distance. There was more muttering in the background but she couldn't make it out and found it difficult to concentrate anyway. She remembered the intense burst of pleasure, the feeling of the three of them wrapped together... The three of them! Instantly she awoke fully, sat straight up, not easy to do since Dent had her wrapped up in his arms, and screamed. Looking around wildly she spotted Sosho sitting cross-legged on the bed and Dent lying down; he had been next to her. With a pitiful wail she threw herself down on the bed buried her head in the pillow and started to cry. "Nesho, what's the problem?" Dent asked obviously completely lost. "What's wrong? Are you hurt? What can we do to help?" Pitifully he looked over at Sosho, "Sosho? Do you know what's wrong?" "I think so; it has to do with what we were talking about. Obviously it upset her." "Obviously," he huffed. "Well if that's all this is about we can take care of it pretty quickly here." Reaching over he grasped Nesho gently but firmly and rolled her over to face them. "Nesho," he said firmly, "you can stop crying any time now." "Oh the gods!" she wailed, "What you must think of me!" "What I think of you is that you are very special to me and I love you. You are a part of me I can't live without. Is that what the gods see? They'd be blind if they didn't." "Oh Dent, how can you even bear to look at me? I am horrible! A filthy pervert!" "For what?" he asked gently. "For being one of two women making love to a man? For kissing another woman? For it being your daughter? Or maybe for enjoying it?" "Yes! Yes! Yes!" she shouted. "Yes to everything! All of it!" "So what should I find so terrible?" he said shrugging. "That you enjoyed kissing Sosho? I certainly do; I don't know why you wouldn't. That she's your daughter? It's not like you can breed together so there isn't even that problem. Did you think I would be bothered by the woman-to-woman thing? Well I am. It bothers the hell out of me. In fact, it make me so hot I could go for a rematch right now." "Stop that, Dent!" Sosho scolded, slapping him in the shoulder. "This is really disturbing her and you make jokes about it!" "I am not," he protested. "Well not much anyway. It really does excite me. But you're right, this is serious." Turning back to Nesho he said, "I'm sorry, love. I know this hurts you and I shouldn't tease you but you need to realize nothing bad has happened nor will it." "But it's not natural, what we did," Nesho sniffed bringing herself back under some semblance of control. "Natural has a lot of meanings," Dent responded again, shrugging. "When you take me in your mouth or I do the same for you, is that natural?" Nesho remained silent trying to think of an appropriate answer. Her initial reaction was to say it was completely different but she knew his next question would be how and for that question she didn't have a good answer. "I think what is natural is whatever adults agree to do between themselves. I understand there are some women who only want to be with other women just as there are some men that only want to be with a man. I praise my luck that I'm not one of them, but if I was would you think me unnatural?" "Dent I could never..." Nesho started. "Of course not," he interrupted. "And I don't think you are one of that kind of woman. If you are then you are one god's-touched good actress because you sure had me fooled!" She smiled at that. "Now it comes down to the question can anything be bad or unnatural in our own bed? The answer is of course yes, if one of us is uncomfortable with what is happening." "Now let me tell you, from where I was I couldn't see anything. I had someone's sweet little butt in my face." Sosho again slapped him, but very gently. "But I could certainly feel what was going on. I think I can feel something of what you feel through the bond although maybe not as strongly. What I felt was excitement, lust, desire and a whole lot of love. Do you disagree?" Nesho shook her head. "Let me tell you, when the three of us came together I almost passed out myself." "I did," Sosho said smiling. "That she did and when she woke up and I could stop her from giggling, we had a nice long chat. I know this bothers you and neither Sosho nor I will ever try to force you to do it again if you don't want to, but I want to tell you that I don't think anything that gives the three of us that much pleasure could be wrong and I think the three of us need to be as honest with each other as we can. I know you can't lie to me but you can not answer completely and hide what you feel. I want the three of us to be comfortable together in and out of bed but we won't be unless we can at least look at each other. Now that you've heard me, what do you have to say?" Nesho paused for a minute. "I was ashamed of what I, we, did. But I'm not sure why. I know we have always been taught that sex between two women, or two men for that matter, is perverted and wrong and before you ask, yes I have known a number of these women and I haven't found them to be such. But then I have the added fact that the other woman here is my own daughter, who I love dearly but I'd never before thought of in that way." "I could say it was the excitement I was feeling from Dent that got me so excited but that wouldn't be true. I was sexually excited from watching you with Sosho and with Sosho's body. There. Was that honest enough for you?" Nesho sighed and let her eyes drop to the bed cover. "Well I enjoyed it too, Momma. Does that make me one of that type of woman?" "Of course not, honey," Nesho scoffed. "Does thinking of other women get you excited?" "No, just you and Dent." "Whom would you rather be with, him or me?" "Both if I can," Sosho answered. "But if I only could have one it would Dent. Sorry, mMomma." "You don't have to be sorry, honey, I feel the same way. So you see, you are perfectly normal... Why you little sneak! Yes you are perfectly normal and so am I." Nesho sighed, "I'm sorry, Dent. I've been such a ninny. I am supposed to be an adult and here my own daughter shows me how silly I've been." "No, you haven't been silly," Dent chided. "It bothered you and it was something we needed to talk about. Would you feel comfortable in us three doing it again now?" "Well I suppose I could if we get in the same mood again." "You don't understand, Nesho. I mean the three of us doing it again, now. I am definitely in the mood and ready." "Oh my!" she laughed. "I see we have created a monster here! Sosho, what do you think?" From her seated position Sosho suddenly sprang forward and pinned Nesho under her. "What do you think, lover?" Her lips descended until they met Nesho's and both sighed softly. ------- Chapter 22 The next morning Dent, Festou, Barth and Marie's two nephew's, Horince and Baneito, were checking the warehouses near the docks. Festou and Barth were head to head whispering about some nefarious plan the two of them had hatched up. Sosho lovingly called them the evil twins and even Dent had to admit the amount of trouble the two could get into made his head hurt. Luckily the two pint sized demons were totally besotted with Nesho and Sosho, especially Sosho, so that control of the duo usually took only a few words from either. Nesho claimed they worshiped Dent but it was, he contended, his only influence was that of fear, like the time he threatened to cut off their ears when he caught them selling tickets to see the "famous pirate killer" for tables next to them when he was eating. He had to admire the spirit of the little scamps, but knew it was best to keep one's eyes wide open around them and have a big stick handy. "I believe this one might be just what you're looking for, Master Dent," said Horince. "Hmm, you could be right." The warehouse they were looking at was large, in fair condition and empty. "But is it available?" "Been empty for years," said Baneito. "You could probably get it for little more than the cost of repairs. The deGrasse owns it and his factor has an office just up the street." "It's certainly worth asking," Dent agreed. The warehouse was definitely available and terms with the overly anxious factor were concluded quickly. Included in the price were modifications for weapon storage and a covering of sand/sawdust mixture for the large open practice area. They would be able to occupy it within days. The next stop was the barracks. Unsurprisingly almost all soldiers and most of the ex-Malshallian sailors opted to sign with Southern Cross Shipping as crew. Dent decided to keep the relative ranks of the marines intact for the time being and left it up to the non-commissioned officers to plan and execute the move to the new facilities. Berthing would be provided but any crewmen were welcome to find their own accommodations in town if they so chose. Dent waited around long enough to ensure teams were assigned to move the weapons, both practice and functional, from the old Vengeance to the drill hall. Since terms for its return still hadn't been reached with the Malshall embassy Dent felt no qualms about stripping the frigate of whatever they needed. The morning's business successfully completed, Dent left for the short walk back to the Cracked Cask. Horince and Baneito were staying behind making sure the modifications were started to specifications and the evil twins, being bored with the mundane task of preparing the facility, had run off to create havoc and discontent somewhere else in the town before Festou had to return to the Grip. Alone with his own thoughts, Dent smiled as he thought back on the night before. The bedroom relationship between the three of them had certainly taken an abrupt and delightful turn. The three of them intertwined into combinations that Dent could only have dreamed about scant weeks earlier, and in some cases ones he couldn't have even imagined. After their talk Nesho loosened up considerably and no longer recoiled at the touch of her daughter. Not that she initiated most of the more interesting groupings but she didn't hold back any that Dent could see. Now Sosho was an entirely different story. She was insatiable; it was the only word Dent could think of. There wasn't anything she wouldn't try or do, it seemed. She seemed to prefer Dent as her sexual partner but had no qualms about broadening her experience, especially if he was involved somehow. The only time Nesho had even started to display some reluctance was after Dent had filled her with his cum once and Sosho dove right in and began licking their combined juices directly out of Nesho's cunt, all the while demanding Dent fuck her from the rear. Her recalcitrance didn't last long, however, as Sosho's inexperienced tongue and lips lapped and sucked her to another orgasm. Dent was sure he saw Nesho eyeing Sosho's pretty little pussy once or twice although she didn't do anything about it that night. By the end, the three of them were not only finally sated but thoroughly exhausted! When he returned to the Cask Sosho hurried him upstairs to measure him for his new clothes. Nesho was off working on company business so they were alone in their rooms. "Did you enjoy yourself last night, love?" he asked as she measured his arms and chest. "It was incredible!" she blurted putting down the measuring string for a moment. "I can't believe what it felt like, all of it!" "Yes it was," he said smiling. "But we really should take it a bit slower, especially with certain, ah, things. This is new to all of us and some of it may take some getting used to, especially for Nesho." "I know," she frowned slightly. "But I felt like I couldn't control myself. It was all so, oh I don't know, wonderful!" "I agree but still we should take it a little slower. By the way, I'm curious: how did you feel when you, ah, when you were, hmm, with Nesho?" "It was interesting," Sosho said thoughtfully. "I'd never thought about doing that before; it just seemed to be the right thing to do. What did you think about it?" "What do you think?" he chuckled. "I know exactly how you feel," she said reaching out and stroking his obviously hard cock through his trousers. "I guess I can't hide it very well, can I," he replied, still smiling. "No you can't, thank the gods!" she said untying his trousers and letting his cock pop out. "I can't believe you can still get hard today after the performance you put on last night but I think we can do something about it right now!" Without another word she began to lick the head of his cock and then sucked the first three inches into her mouth while her fingers gently stroked the exposed portion of his shaft. In a few minutes he was spewing into her mouth as she eagerly drank it down. "Oh by the gods, that feels good, my love," he groaned as she slowly licked him clean. "Would you like me to, ah, take care of you?" "Not needed, mighty Master," she said pushing his semi-flaccid prick back into his trousers. "I can wait until tonight, but you can take care of me then," she grinned up at him. "That I promise, love," he reached down and picked her up and drew her in for a kiss. "Mmm," she moaned pushing him away. "You keep that up and I won't be able to wait until tonight and I have far too much to do!" "All right I'll take pity on you this time," he kidded. "But you'd better be ready for me tonight!" "You know I will!" The next few days flew by without a hitch. Other than a few more fittings Sosho required of him, Dent spent most of the time at what was now calling the Practice Hall working with what was now being called the Southern Cross Shipping Guard Contingent. As he expected the core of the group was made up of the ex-Malshallian marines plus a few extras they picked up from around town. There were even a few from the old Death Grip boarding party that had decided the life of leisure wasn't for them and rejoined. In the morning it was all Guard Contingent and in the afternoon a number of regular sailors came to practice with them. He was pleased with the competence and willingness of the ex-Malshallian soldiers to work with and learn the new fighting techniques. If what he had seen on the Grip and the Vengeance had been examples of good fighters, then he was confident this new fighting force would be one of if not the best on the seas in short order. This was good since he had the nagging feeling they were going to be needed in the not too distant future. Before he knew it, the day of the reception arrived. Vel picked them up in a hired carriage. Dent wondered about that since it was only a short walk to the Putram's Palace but Vel insisted that for such an event one just couldn't arrive on foot. It just wasn't done if you expected to be taken seriously. All three women were splendid in their new gowns and the normally reserved Marie couldn't stop gushing over Sosho's handiwork. "She is simply a magic worker, Master Dent!" Marie prattled. "I agree she is a little witch at times," he said teasing Sosho who was sitting next to him. She gave him a little jab in the arm but giggled and bent over to kiss his cheek. "You must get her set up in a shop of her own," Marie continued not even hearing him. "Why after tonight every lady in Harv'el will want her to design their gowns for them. She is going to make you a fortune!" "I've told her she can do whatever she wants. But I'm not too worried how much she can make for me; she's already worth a fortune to me as it is." That got him another kiss and a bit of snuggle time which only stopped when they pulled up at the front entrance of the palace. Footman opened the carriage door and helped the women down. They strolled through the huge front doors, waited in the arrival line and handed a card to one of the palace slaves who announced them to the assembled company. "Captain Torken Vel, Master of the good ship Death Grip, and escort." "Warrior Dent and escorts." For a while they mingled with the crowd, Dent and his women staying close to Vel and Marie. The large gathering of well dressed and obviously highly placed nobles intimidated him somewhat; he had never experienced anything like it before. For the first few minutes he was sure he would rather have been in battle against an overwhelming foe but after a while he settled down and actually began to enjoy himself. He noticed a good half of the women wore a slave mark on their forehead and even a few had salidin showing. The only men with the mark were servants passing through the crowd with trays of drinks or finger food. After a while a number of richly-dressed men and their companions were gathered around Vel and Dent. Vel introduced them as members of the Citizens Council and he began to entertain them with stories of the Pinya's capture and the subsequent battle for the Vengeance. Many times Dent's face burned as the men guffawed and their companions squealed as the Captain continued with his only slightly exaggerated tale. One of the men didn't seem pleased at all by the tale. Finally one of the men nearby pointed this out to the throng. "What do you think of the story, Mr. Ambassador?" "I find the boasting of the chance taking of one His Excellency's ships to be in extremely poor taste, if truth be known," the ambassador stated dryly. "Hmm yes. Well, a good tale all the same," another said as the group broke up leaving Dent's group alone with the Malshallian ambassador. "Your Honor," Vel said with a small smile as he stiffly bowed. "At your service," Dent added with a much more formal bow. "Oh I think you have been quite all the service Malshall needed, Warrior." "I can assure you, sir, I only did what was needed to survive or fulfill my contract." "Indeed. Well let us hope that form of service won't be needed in the future. Now if you will excuse me, I must take my leave. Ladies, Warrior, Captain." With that he turned his back and strode off. "A rather rude person, wouldn't you say," muttered Nesho. "Maybe not normally," chuckled Vel. "But I have found out a few things lately: For one, the two ships in Jeevelian waters are supposed to be under his direct orders. That means he is responsible for them so the loss of the Vengeance comes back to rest on his shoulders. I'm sure that has something to do with his foul mood." "Is that why they are being such asses about ransoming the crew and the ship?" "Yes. If he pays ransom, he'll have to admit they were taken." "But it's sitting in our harbor. Isn't it a little obvious that it's been taken? It didn't come here on a goodwill tour." "True, my fine young Warrior, but you don't understand diplomacy. Sometimes if you ignore something long enough it will go away. Don't give me that look. Just this once believe me; in politics and diplomacy even the impossible can sometimes happen. Oh I do believe our host is about to make an appearance." They all turned and saw a slave in the Putram's livery standing just inside the door clearing his throat like he was going to make an announcement. "Honored Citizens, Guests, His Excellency, Westel, the Putram of Jeevel!" A vigorous round of applause greeted the Putram as he strode through the door with Tamer deBrisil right behind him. The Putram moved through the crowd greeting his various guests, his movements finally bringing him to where Dent and his group were standing. "Ah, this must be the illustrious Captain Vel who has done so much for us," he said nodding as Vel gave him a stiffly formal bow. "And this must be his Armsman, the Warrior who, if you can credit the story, single-handedly brought down one of Malshall's mighty ships. It is indeed an honor to meet you." "The honor is all mine, Your Excellency," Dent replied also formally bowing. "Of course, of course. Have you met my First Councilor? Tamer this is Captain Vel and Warrior, Dent is it?" "Tamer deBrisil?" Vel asked. "This is a surprise. I was planning to look you up in the next few days." "You were? Not that it wouldn't be a pleasure of course, but whatever for?" "I have a small business proposition for you," Vel said grinning. "You do? How fascinating." "Why don't you two go talk by yourselves," the Putram said curtly. "I wish to speak to the Warrior here alone." "Of course, Your Excellency," deBrisil nodded. "Certainly," Vel agreed. "Marie, would you be so kind as to check out the food? I'm feeling a bit famished. Let me know what they have." "Of course Captain. Master, by your leave?" "What? Oh yes, of course," deBrisil waved his hand at her. "Marie, is it? Yes please run along now and let me talk to the Captain." After she left the two strolled off by themselves talking as they went. "One of mine I see," deBrisil said to Vel. "Yes and that's part of what I wanted to talk to you about..." When they were out of earshot the Putram turned back to Dent momentarily but then turned and gave Nesho and Sosho an appraising look. "So Warrior, I understand you have had some interesting times lately," the Putram said still looking at the women. "Well, Your Excellency, it has been busy, but I'm sure the stories have been somewhat exaggerated," Dent answered warily. He couldn't put his finger on it but for some reason he didn't like the man and he certainly didn't like the way he was looking at his two women. "To be sure they always are, but my sources are usually very accurate. Now I'm not one to engage in a lot of useless chatter so let me get directly to my point. These are your two slaves." Dent nodded. "Good. They are as lovely as I was told. I understand you have been offered a very reasonable sum for the two of them." "I don't know about reasonable, Your Excellency, but someone has offered to buy them. Actually a number of people have offered to buy them. I tell all of them the same thing: They aren't for sale." "Surely everything is for sale Warrior, for the right price. I happen to know how much deBabear offered you and after getting a look at them myself I can see it was a ridiculously low one. I've taken a fancy to them myself and will give you fifty gold for the both of them right now." "I am flattered, Your Excellency. I'm sure that that is a more than fair offer but I will say it again: They are not for sale," Dent said a little more sternly. "Nonsense, make it seventy-five, a hundred!" Sosho gasped when she heard the number. "No, Your Excellency," Dent said shaking his head emphatically. "It is not the amount. They are not for sale at any price." The Putram's face was starting to become very flushed as he began to lose control, his anger evident. "Don't be a fool man!" he was almost shouting now. "I am the Putram of Jeevel and I will get what I want!" "I am sorry Your Excellency but in this case I am afraid you will be disappointed," Dent said calmly. Dent wondered if they would be able to get out of the Palace without a fight. He had his sword and dirk with him but no armor. The Putram turned suddenly and strode away. Over his shoulder he hissed back at them, "You have had your chance! I will get what I want." They watched his back as he moved through the crowd roughly pushing guests and servants aside as he went. "I don't like him," Sosho shivered as she came up next to Dent and he put his arm around her. "He scares me." "He scares me too," admitted Dent. "I think we should find Vel and tell him we're leaving. I'll feel much better when we get home." "Who does he think he is to refuse me?" Westel shouted as he paced back and forth. "Your Excellency," Garishnie whined. "There are plenty of other slaves..." "But I want these slaves!" the Putram bellowed. "I want them and I will have what I want. Am I not the Putram of Jeevel?" "Yes, Your Excellency, but he is a Warrior and they are bound to him by salidin." "Salidin," the Putram said with disgust. "That's just a bit of silly superstition, nonsense, there's nothing to it." "Oh no, Your Excellency, it's not just superstition..." "Well I say it is! If I say it is then it is! Do you hear me?" "Yes, of course, Your Excellency," Garishnie simpered. "But while he's alive there is nothing we can do about it." "Well then kill him. He can die just like any man can. Take care of it." "But he's a Guild member. If he were killed and the Guild found out who did it even you wouldn't be safe." "Bah! I'm well protected here." Certainly, Your Excellency, by Guild members. What do you think would happen if they withdrew their protection? Or even worse, actually came after you?" "There must be a way," the Putram muttered. "Maybe, Your Excellency, just maybe there is." Garishnie tried to control his fear but the feeling of dread wouldn't go away. "I happen to know he will be leaving with the Death Grip on a voyage soon." "So?" "So ships can be dangerous. Many things can happen. Being lost at sea is not uncommon." "Yes, whole ships have been known to be lost, haven't they?" Westel's smile almost sickened Garishnie. "So what is your plan?" "It looks like we're almost ready," Dent said to Vel as they stood on the pilot bridge watching the last of their cargo being loaded aboard the Grip. "Aye. We sail tomorrow with the tide," Vel answered. "Your troops ready?" "As ready as I can make them," Dent answered. "We won't know without actually seeing them in combat, but I'm comfortable with them now. They're all aboard now and will remain." "You staying ashore tonight?" "What do you think?" "I think Nesho and Sosho would have your balls if you didn't." "That's pretty much the way I figured it, also," Dent admitted. "You are one sorry excuse for a Warrior and Master, you pussy-whipped bastard," Vel said, laughing." "That's true," Dent said with a grin. "So I suppose you had no problem with Marie in staying here overnight." "Ha! For one thing, you young pup, she doesn't belong to me, yet. And another thing it's my decision if I want to spend my last night ashore and not some woman's!" "Of course it is Captain. How silly of me." Dent could hardly keep from laughing. "And don't you forget it," Vel said gruffly. Changing the subject Dent asked, "So is our itinerary finally set?" "Yes, it'll be a short one for this trip. First we make a stop in Safehaven then on to your homeport of Salas and return." "Safehaven? I've never heard of that before." "Not many have," Vel said. "It's a little island just a day away. Technically a part of Jeevel, but not many bother to go there." As they were looking down at the main deck Dent noticed Perth standing there. He was supervising the loading of the final bit of cargo. Dent frowned. "He's a good sailor," Vel said noticing where Dent was looking. "I don't think it'll be too much to ask for the both of you to just stay out of each others way." "You're right," Dent said with a sigh. "I'll leave it be if he does." "That's all I can ask," Vel replied. "Well I'm heading back to the Cask. See you there?" Dent asked. "Of course, I'll be there." Their preparations for bed were more subdued than normal. Sosho still sniffled at times but Dent was proud to note she was really trying to control her reactions. Dent went over to her and wrapped her up in his arms. "It won't be for very long, love," he whispered into her hair. "I know," she said but her voice still cracked a little. "I don't want you to go but I know you must." "You'll be just fine here. If there are any problems there's Marie or you can see Jon at the Guild Hall." "I suppose we'll be as safe here as anywhere," Nesho said. "You haven't heard anything else from the Putram or Garishnie have you?" "No I haven't, nothing at all for the past few weeks." Dent paused. "I did tell Jon about it, though, so he's aware of what happened. I get the impression he doesn't think much of His Excellency either, but he doesn't think there's much even the Putram can do. You are both registered at the Guild Hall and with the salidin there isn't much question of ownership." Dent still grimaced when he said that. "No doubt about that at all," Nesho said softly as she also came over to be cuddled, the three of them just standing and holding each other for a few moments. "Well, enough of this, Nesho said pushing herself away from him. "We have a present for you before you leave." "Oh good! Maybe we should get to bed then so I can open it," Dent leered at her. "You goof! That's our present from you," she said laughing. "No, we have something else. Sosho, would you please go get it?" Nodding Sosho disentangled herself and hurried into the spare room. Seconds later she returned with a bundle. Opening the cloth wrapping she held up a shimmering shirt made of tiny interwoven metal links. "A mail shirt?" he asked. He took it from her. It was incredibly light and so well made it was almost as flexible as real cloth. "This is beautiful," he exclaimed. "But I don't wear..." "We want you to," Nesho interrupted. "We know you don't normally wear mail armor but we want you to have something for when you aren't wearing your regular plate." "Well all right but..." "Promise us you'll wear it whenever you aren't wearing your armor?" "If that's what you want then of course I will. I've never needed one before and I don't see why I'd need it now, but if that's what you want then of course I will." "Good," Nesho said with satisfaction. "We knew you'd be traveling to places that may not be as safe as Harv'el and we wanted you to have a little more protection. The armorer said it wouldn't stop a pike or even a direct sword strike, but it will stop a knife or a grazing stroke. We love you and want you to come back to us safe." "If that's what you want then that's what I'll do," he said. "More than anything I want to come home to you two." Then he chuckled, "I should say you three." "Four," chimed in Sosho. "You need to come back to us four." "What?" Dent was momentarily floored. He looked over at Nesho puzzled. "I'm afraid so, dear," Nesho said with an exaggerated sigh. "It would appear my trollop of a daughter is knocked up." Then she grinned. "Just following the example of my slut mother," Sosho said cheerily. "This is wonderful!" Dent shouted as he ran over to grab first one and then the other. "We're so glad you approve, Master dear, since you're the one who got us in this condition," Nesho said after he put her down. "But you've had your present; I think it's time for ours." With that both she and Sosho grabbed and arm and dragged him off to the bedroom. The Malshallian ambassador strolled on his veranda under the shade of a brightly-colored canopy. He paused and looked over the railing at the view below. The Malshall Embassy was tucked into the side of one the mountains surrounding the harbor and afforded them an unobstructed view of the entire basin. From where he stood he could see the preparations being made for the sailing of one of the few ships docked. "Has that message been sent yet?" he asked his aide trailing behind. "Yes, Your Honor. It left early this morning on one of our special coastals." Coastal merchants, far too small to make the open ocean transits safely, were always coming and going from any port without any notice. Malshall had a number of these disguised as native craft in most of the ports and countries with which they had dealings. They made excellent intelligence-gathering platforms or, as in this case, messengers where stealth was needed more so than speed. "They know where to find her?" "Yes, Your Honor. They will meet with the Thin Blade at the prearranged location." "Their orders are clear?" "Yes, Your Honor. They are to intercept the Death Grip as she leaves Salas and take her. There are to be no survivors." At one time the aide might have wondered just where this information came from but he had been too long in his position to even think about it. He stood there mutely. "Excellent!" the ambassador barked and then looked over at his aide. "You don't approve of this action? Need I remind you this ship was directly responsible for the loss of one of our navy's best and in so doing has desecrated our own Putram's honor and reputation?" "I would never presume to doubt any of your decisions, Honorable One. Still I wonder how Jeevel would react if it became known one of our ships attacked one of theirs after Jeevel has rescinded their Letters of Marque." "I don't think that will be a problem," the ambassador said with a smile. "Who do you think told us how to find her?" ------- Chapter 23 If possible, the rocky crags surrounding the harbor of Safehaven were even taller and starker looking then those of Harv'el. The harbor itself was noticeably smaller and the town of Safehaven almost invisible unless you knew exactly where to look. The island was formed from an extinct volcano, the harbor formed from its cone. Dent was up early that morning. He hadn't slept well in the narrow hard bunk and was surprised at just how much he missed the soft warm bodies he had grown accustomed to feeling beside him. Because of that he felt no great desire to remain abed and was up before the morning watch and on the pilot bridge even before the sea and anchor detail had been set. The Death Grip was presently threading its way through a narrow and -- or so Vel said -- a particularly nasty entrance channel to the harbor. "It's actually a beautiful little harbor," he had said the night before. "Deep and well protected, but the channel at the entrance is one cold-hearted bitch! It's not reef so much as just slightly submerged mountaintops sharp enough to rip the bottom out of any vessel. Only the smallest fishing boats can go in and out with impunity. Anyone else who doesn't know the way well is just asking to be sunk. It's one of the reasons very few visit Safehaven. It's a bit hair-raising even for someone who's done it a number of times like I have and even I'd never do it at night." As they approached the town, they could see the relatively few docks and the general shabbiness of the village located at their feet. "There doesn't seem to be much here," Dent said, his unvoiced question being what were they doing there at all. "Not much," Vel agreed. "There's not much here of any value. They do make beautiful obsidian jewelry you can't find anywhere else but its true value is the transshipment of cargo the owners don't want or can't ship through Harv'el. The taxes and duties are supposed to be the same here as in Harv'el but in actuality Jeevel rarely pays much attention to Safehaven. There is supposed to be a governor and support staff, mostly to take care of the taxes, but there hasn't been one assigned here for a long time. We will be picking up a load of jewelry but mostly we're here to pick up cargo bound for Salas from elsewhere." "You would think Jeevel would do something to stop this; it's almost like smuggling." "Not almost, it is," chuckled Vel. "But the amount is generally so small it's not worth their time and effort to stop it. If they really wanted to stop it, they would lower or eliminate the taxes on transshipments, but for some reason that doesn't seem to sink into their tiny little pointed heads. Jeevel used to be one of the major trading ports in this area but their greed has chased most of that away. Now they rely on the slave trade and because of the problems with Malshall that is dwindling." "Can't say I'm sorry to hear that," Dent muttered. "I know how you feel about slavery," Vel nodded. "I can't say as how I feel the same way. It seems to be the natural order of things to me. Now that doesn't mean I approve of the way they treat them all the time up here, but even that is mostly a local aberration. It's the natural order of the world: There are some who are going to lead and others who will follow. Does it really matter if you call the followers slaves, serfs or servants? How else would anything get done? Have the peasants lead themselves? Now that would be a right mess, wouldn't it?" "I don't know," admitted Dent. "It just doesn't seem right for some reason." "I've been to Salas," Vel continued. "You have serfs there, right? From what I understand they're tied to the land, unable to move around or leave. Is that correct?" Dent nodded. "What are they except slaves without tattoos?" "I never thought of it that way," Dent mused. "It seems different somehow, but thinking about it now I couldn't tell you how it is different." "Well, think about it some. I'm not trying to convert you to my way of thinking; I'll leave that to the logic of the situation. Take your two women, for instance. Do you think they would be better off in Salas as wives or are they happier in Harv'el with you technically as slaves? I say technically since you don't treat them like many of the other slaves are treated." "You have a point, I guess. Nesho did tell me there was no difference between the salidin around her neck and a marriage band around her wrist. Still I wonder at times." "Well, let's leave it be for now boy. I'm needed for the docking now. We should be moored here shortly. Why don't you take a walk around Safehaven for awhile? It's not big, you can't get lost and I think you might enjoy it." "I'll do that," Dent replied. Vel had been right; Dent enjoyed poking around in the small village. It wasn't very large and it didn't take him long to see pretty much everything there was to be seen, but it was a pleasant stroll if nothing else. The people of Safehaven were friendly enough, not exuberantly so, but polite when spoken to and helpful when he asked for directions to the nearest inn or restaurant. There was only one in the village and he chose to eat at their outside tables by the front door. There weren't throngs of people in the street but after he saw the same ones passing him for the third or fourth time he got the feeling he was the object of some curiosity. Understandable, he thought. If there were as few ships pulling in as Vel hinted any visitor would be the object of a great deal of interest. For the most part they were discreet and Dent let it go at that. He could have moved inside but grinned to himself thinking if the locals wanted to view the unusual exhibit of Warrior on Display it was no harm to him. Besides, the sun was pleasant and the food excellent; he was in no mood to be bothered by such trifles. His introspection was interrupted only once. He was finishing when two young boys about the same age as Festou, who happened to be restricted to the ship for some bit of mischief he and Barth had been into before sailing, suddenly appeared next to his table. While one had the tattoo of a slave, the other didn't, and they just stood there staring at him wide-eyed and silent as the grave. Dent noticed that far fewer people here wore the slave mark and he wondered if it meant there were fewer slaves here or if they just didn't bother with the marks here in this backwater port. He'd have to remember to ask Vel sometime. But back to his young audience, Dent considered just waiting them out; boys that age could hardly stay still for very long let alone quiet but decided against it. "What can I do for you, young gentlemen?" he asked with a smile. If anything their eyes got even bigger until he was sure they would pop out of their heads. He was right, though, it wasn't more than a few seconds until curiosity overruled their fear. "Are you really a Warrior, sir?" the one with the tattoo blurted. Dent hadn't worn even his light armor this day, just the mail under his blouse and of course his dirk and sword. Dent wondered how they knew but then remembered he had worn his Guild badge and it was outside his shirt right then. "Yes, I am," he answered still smiling. "Gods, we ain't never seen a real Warrior afore you," his partner said breathlessly. "Well now you have," Dent said spreading his hands in a "look me over" gesture. Either his smile or his amenable attitude must has put to rest any remaining trepidation they had because before he knew it he was being inundated by questions faster than he could understand let alone answer. "Have you kilt many people?" "Is that your sword?" "Can we touch it?" "Are you under contract?" "What's it like out there?" "Here now, what's this all about?" came a stern voice from over Dent's shoulder. Turning he saw his server standing with her hands on hips glaring at the two boys. "What do you think you're about bothering this gentleman at his supper? You two scamps just clear out here now and leave the man to his own business!" "Ah Miz Sella this here's a real Warrior and we was jest talking to him. We weren't bothering him any was we, sir?" The one talking looked at Dent imploringly. "Not bothering him? You were worrying him to death is what you were doing. I know your Mam taught you better that that, Filep Fisher, and you too Clem..." "Please, mistress," Dent interrupted. "They weren't bothering me, I promise. I was just finishing and they were curious, that's all. No harm done, I know I'd do the same myself at their age." "Well if you say so, sir," she harrumphed. "But these two hooligans will talk your arm off if you give them half a chance." "Well that's why I have two," he grinned. "Just in case I lose one to a couple of fast talkers." "Well now that may be true, sir," she said answering his smile with one of her own. "And these two do have their uses now and then I will admit, if for nothing else than they collect dust and dirt better than anything else I've ever seen." "Well maybe I can put them to good use then," Dent replied. "I've heard tell you have some rather spectacular jewelry here in Safehaven and I'd like to look for some gifts for a couple of ladies. Do you know where I might find some?" "Oh, if it's jewelry you're looking for then you need to see Daniel the Jeweler. He doesn't have a real store like in the big cities but he's the factor for all the townfolk who make the pretties. These two pirates can certainly show you how to find him. Now you two show the gentleman where to find Master Daniel and no mooning about. you hear?" "Yes, ma'am," they said in unison. Mistress Sella was correct that the jeweler didn't have a regular store. The two boys led him to an older looking warehouse down by the docks where an elderly gentleman was sorting through an impressive pile of obsidian jewelry. She was wrong about them talking his arm off, though. They were quiet as mice as he told them of the taking of the Vengeance. Their faces looked up at him in awe bordering on worship as he told the tale but he was glad it was a short walk since he was sure they wanted to hear more and of course he had nothing else to tell. The jeweler was helpful although apologetic. He lamented that his selection was quite limited since most of the finer pieces had been readied for shipment on the Grip. Still Dent was able to find a very pretty set of earrings for Nesho and a bracelet for Sosho. He had no idea if he paid too much or was getting a bargain. The price seemed reasonable to him and he was pleased to be able to get something for his women as a surprise. Far too soon it was time to board the ship again. He paid his two guides a silver each which he knew was far too much but it was worth it to see their eyes bug out and he could almost see the steam coming out of their ears with the thoughts of how to spend their new-found wealth. The rocky crags of Safehaven were well astern of them as the sun reached the horizon and the first evening watch was settling in for their four-hour vigil. Dent and Vel stood at the rear of the pilot bridge looking back at the old volcano's jutting peaks. "A nice place," Dent commented. "I thought you might like it," Vel replied. "It is a nice little port. A bit dull for me, though. Not much excitement, but a nice place to rest." "I wonder if Nesho and Sosho would like it," Dent mused. "You tired of Harv'el already? Looking for someplace else?" "Maybe," Dent admitted. "Harv'el is fine as far as that goes but there's just something about it that makes me uneasy. I don't know what it is, just something." "There he is again," Sosho whispered to Nesho. They were sitting at a table eating their noon meal when a large warrior in livery came in a sat down a few tables away. Kelei waited on him but all he wanted was a large mug of ale. He didn't stare at them directly but it seemed he paid far more attention to them then was normal. "Maybe Dent has been talking up the Cask," Nesho said. "Maybe he's just here to check it out for himself." "Maybe, but this is the third day he's been here. I get the feeling he's looking at me, you also. What could he want? It makes me nervous." "Hmm, it is a bit particular. I'll ask Marie about him when I see her next. But I shouldn't worry about it overly much. Captain Vel said slaves were well protected here, at least from anyone other than their masters and I haven't seen anything to dispute that." "I suppose so, but I wish Dent were back," Sosho had a little whine creep into her voice. "Oh come now, he's only been gone a few days," Nesho smiled at her daughter. "He'll be back soon enough. Besides, if you start missing him you can just shut your eyes and feel where he is." "I know, Momma, but it isn't the same. Yes I can feel him, but I want to really feel him, you know what I mean." "Yes I do and I feel the same way. As for our watcher, well I'll ask Marie and maybe she'll know." "This is all just a waste of time," Escaro grumbled as he paced back and forth in Garishnie's office. "I've been watching them for days now and nothing has changed. Their collars haven't changed color like you said they would." "Don't worry, I tell you," Garishnie soothed. "It's all been taken care of. My agent is probably just waiting for the most opportune time. When he's dead, their collars will change, believe me. Dealing with slaves as much as I do I made it a point to familiarize myself with these new devices. I don't like them myself but still it's what some of my customers want and if they're willing to pay, then that's what they get. I've seen it happen: When the master dies the collar will change to a light gray and they will be available to transfer ownership. While he's alive there's, nothing I can do." "And His Excellency is comfortable with the waiting?" Escaro asked. "His Excellency doesn't understand," Garishnie replied testily. "His Excellency thinks this is superstition and doesn't like waiting for anything. In fact he has become rather insistent. He doesn't seem to understand, or care about, the trouble this could cause if it's not done correctly." "I don't understand either," Escaro huffed. "Just make up some reason to confiscate them and let's go in and take them. If the punk does make it back, I'll deal with him then." "I'm sure you could, but what about the Guild?" "Screw them," Escaro laughed waving his hand. "They can't do anything if it's just between the two of us." "Maybe," Garishnie said still looking worried. "Maybe." It was a clear, dark night with just a hint of clouds on the horizon. Dent and Vel stood at the railing on the main deck watching the luminescence sparkle in the wake as the Grip's bow pushed through the waves. "So we'll be in Salas tomorrow?" Dent asked. "Tomorrow morning. How will it feel to be home again?" "Strangely, I don't feel much. It's funny but even though I spent most of my life there I don't fell any great need to go back." "Will you visit the Academy?" Vel asked. "I don't think so," Dent answered slowly. "There are some people I wouldn't mind seeing and it's not like I left with any great animosity between us, but it could be a bit awkward. I left no doubt I wasn't interested in the position of instructor and that didn't sit well with some of them." "Do you expect any trouble?" "No. They may not have liked my answer but it's not their way to force the issue. I'm sure they expect me to return some day on my own." "Will you?" "No," said Dent shaking his head. "It's not what I ever really wanted and now I have much more out here. Did I tell you Sosho is expecting also?" "Why you dog!" Vel laughed and slapped him on the back. This little show of camaraderie knocked him into the rail and almost over the side. "You trying to increase the population all by yourself?" "Well not exactly by myself," he said rolling his shoulder to take out the sting. Dent knew the Captain sometimes didn't know his own strength which could at times be a bit wearing on those around him. He could take some comfort in the fact that without the mail shirt under his blouse it would have hurt even more. "But now that I have two on the way it's even more imperative we succeed in this venture." "That shouldn't be a problem at all," Vel said grinning. "So far this has been an easy trip; nothing except that little merchantman two days ago. I'm surprised a little: no pirates, no Malshallian navy; but then we're heading away from that for now. After Salas, we'll see. It may get a bit busier when we head back to Jeevel." "True, but who knows? You find you have a little increase in population yourself when we get back," Dent teased the Captain. "After all, Marie isn't any older than Nesho." "Are you inferring something by that, youngster?" Vel growled his warning. "Oh nothing, nothing at all," Dent quickly added. "I certainly wouldn't want to infer anything." He paused for a moment, "But of course Nesho talks with Marie all the time and she had more to say than just an inference." "Yes, well..." Vel sighed. "It's difficult to protect a lady's reputation when she insists on announcing your every doing to the world." "I didn't think you cared about the feelings of a mere slave," Dent said softly. Vel bristled for a moment then let out his breath in a grunt. "Aye, I suppose it don't match what I may have said in the past at that. For that I blame you!" "Me?" Dent said surprised. "What do I have to do with it?" "Why the way you treat your women, of course. If I hadn't seen you with them, it wouldn't have reminded me of how things are back in my home and if I hadn't been reminded of that I wouldn't have developed this caring that I have. So you see, it really is your fault." Dent laughed and shook his head. "In that case I suppose I'll take that blame. So do you have any plans? Plans with her in them, I mean." "As a matter of fact I do," Vel rumbled. I've talked to deBrisil about buying the Cask." Dent grunted in surprise. "And of course if I buy the Cask then I have to buy the slaves that come with it." "Of course," Dent said with a grin. "And how does Marie feel about that." "Naturally I haven't told her," Vel said. "Even with your bad example, I still feel it's bad business for the master to allow too much input from his slaves; besides I want it to be a surprise. I hope she will approve though." "From what Nesho has told me I'm sure she will. Well good luck on your endeavor Captain!" "Thank you, Armsman, but now I think I'll take a turn on the pilot bridge and observe the watch change. Perth is coming on and for some reason I get the feeling he's been a little nervous lately. Maybe my being there will calm him down." "Well if he's going to be up there, then I think I'll stay down here." "You still have a problem with him?" Dent shrugged, "No problem. He and I avoid each other and I'm perfectly fine with that." "Good," Vel replied. "You don't have to be friends but I don't want any trouble." "There won't be any trouble from me," Dent added. "Fine. Then I'm for the bridge; I'll see you later." After Vel left, Dent stood at the rail watching the sea and letting his mind wander. He was thinking about Safehaven again and wondering if his women would be able to live in such a rustic place. The advantages were many but the isolation would be difficult for two women raised in the big city. He would bring it up to them when he returned; at least there were options for them now. Dent heard the soft scrape of someone walking across the deck behind him. A watch-stander heading up for watch or just coming off, he thought. He didn't bother to turn around. Suddenly he felt an intense sharp pain in his lower back around where his kidneys were located and somebody pushing him over the rail. Instinctively Dent twisted and lashed out with his fist. It connected with a soft crunch and his assailant fell to the deck. Again without thinking, he kicked when his attacker started to pull himself up, Dent's boot caught him under the chin and sent him sprawling back on the deck. "The watch!" he yelled. "To me! To me! Main deck!" Within seconds there was a great deal of shouting and the pounding of feet as the on-watch crew found and then surrounded the two men. Pushing through the circle of onlookers Captain Vel first looked at the standing Warrior and then knelt by the figure lying on the deck. "It's Perth," Vel said looking up. "What happened here? Didn't I tell you to leave well enough alone?" "I did," Dent said holding his empty hands out. "I was just standing here the same as when you left. I heard someone walking on the deck behind me and then I felt a pain and someone trying to push me over the side." "A pain?" Vel asked. "Where?" Turning around slightly Dent tried to reach the middle of his back pointing to where it hurt. The pain was barely noticeable now as the adrenaline rush blanked out the feeling as it did in most battle situations. "Right about here," he said still trying to reach around. "Ho! Well I can see where it might hurt a bit," Vel chuckled. Standing and reaching out he gave a sharp tug. In the dimness everyone could see he held a short dagger, the point dark with what had to be Dent's blood. "What do we have here?" Vel muttered. "Unless you were trying to stick yourself in the back it appears somebody wanted you dead." Turning to the on-looking crew he pointed to three of them and said, "You, take him down to the mess deck and strap him to a table. I'm going to get some answers and I need some room to work." The three sailors picked up the still groggy Perth and hustled him towards one of the hatches. Turning back, Dent could just make out Vel's puzzled expression. "You must be one lucky son of a goat," Vel said. "Perth may not be the strongest of us but where he stabbed you should have done the job. Why aren't you dead?" The remaining sailors started muttering and again one made a sign to ward off evil. "Luck had nothing to do with it," Dent replied. Lifting up his blouse the mail shirt was exposed and gleamed in the dim light. "It was a gift from my ladies and for this if nothing else I thank the gods for them." "Interesting," Vel chuckled again. "Well luck or not, you still have more lives than a cat. Never mind that, we need to talk to Mr. Perth and find out what's behind this. I can't believe he would do this alone. How is your back? Do you need to be looked at right away?" "No. It hurt at first but I think it's little more than a scratch. I can have it looked at later." "Good. Let's go down an see if we can find some answers." The sailors had taken Vel literally and Perth was bound spread-eagled to one of the tables on the mess deck. He was awake, cursing and spitting at anyone who came near him. The Captain and Dent walked up to the table and looked down at him. "I want some answers, Perth," Vel said without preamble. "What you did is obvious; what I want to know is why." "Fuck you!" the bound man screamed. "I'm not going to tell you or this asshole anything!" "You attacked another member of my crew, Perth," Vel said almost gently. "You tried to kill him. You know what that means. You're already dead. The question now is will it be a quick death or one that's slow and painful. You decide." "Fuck you!" Perth screamed again working up enough saliva to spray the Captain's face. Looking directly at Dent he screamed again, "You and your fucking bitches are going to get yours!" "So be it," Vel said wiping the spit off his face. "Normally I'd rather not do this, Perth, but you make it a pleasure." The dagger Perth had used in his attempt to kill Dent was still in Vel's hand. He motioned to one of the sailors who nodded and pried open one of Perth's fists, spreading the fingers out on the table. "Perth," Vel said softly. "I'm going to get my answers even if there's nothing left of you to hang." The screaming started and didn't stop for a long time. "He's completely insane!" Garishnie blubbered. "He wants those slaves and he wants them now!" "So we take them now," Escaro said with a shrug. "I still don't see the problem. He's the Putram and he can do what he wants, can't he?" "No, he can't!" Garishnie practically screamed. "That damned warrior still isn't dead! If by some chance he does return the Guild will crucify all of us! Don't you understand?" "Don't worry," Escaro said placidly. "Even if he does make it back I'll make sure he doesn't live to know what's happened. When do you want me to get them?" "This is insane," Garishnie sobbed. "Tomorrow, tomorrow we have to do it." "Fine. It'll be done tomorrow morning. You can tell His Excellency the slaves are as good as his." "Garishnie? Why would he want me killed?" Dent asked for the hundredth time. "It could be revenge," Vel said with a shrug. "Or it could be for the girls. You did say he's been trying to buy them from you. He may be a fat ass but he knows slaves and he knows he can't have them unless you agree or are dead." "But why?" Dent asked again. "Why them? As beautiful as they are there are certainly others." "You said Garishnie was acting as an agent for the Putram. Why, I can't say exactly, but I do know that one is crazy as a spin bug." Vel shook his head. "I can't believe even he would be crazy enough to try this with one of your Guild's members, but then the insane by definition don't think rationally, do they?" "We have to get back now!" Dent exclaimed. "Get back we will, and at best possible speed, but first we have cargo to deliver and pick up in Salas." "Fuck the cargo!" Dent screamed. "I don't think so," Vel said gently. "Let's look at this rationally. He is probably having them watched and is waiting for their salidin to turn. Since you aren't dead, they haven't turned so he probably won't do anything. This being the case what do you think Nesho would say about the cargo?" "You know very well what she would say about the cargo," Dent muttered somewhat mollified. "But what if he has taken them already?" "If he has, there's not much we can do right now and not much he can do. He can't transfer ownership. Not only would Don not do it but he can't do it. Not while they're activated and you're still alive. The Salas loading will take a day, day and a half at most. I know we had planned to stay for a few days longer but we can justify a quick turnaround." "Fine, but not one second longer then we have to!" Dent spat. The crowd at the Cask was a little lighter than normal. Sosho mentioned this as she and Nesho ate a leisurely breakfast. They had nothing special planned for the day and had slept in for once since both were now feeling the morning sickness common to pregnant women. Luckily Nesho was almost past that stage and so far Sosho's had been very mild but with nothing pressing to do, it couldn't hurt to get as much rest as they could. Just as they were finishing Escaro marched through the door with a squad of five men-at-arms, all in the livery of House deBabear. Without hesitation he marched up to the two women and planted himself in front of their table. "I am Escaro," he said sternly. "I have a warrant from His Excellency's tax assessor, Garishnie deBabear, for the confiscation of two slaves of one Dent of the Warrior Guild for non-payment of import taxes. You will come with me now and you will come quietly." "There must be some mistake," Nesho said worriedly. "The tax was paid and we have a receipt signed by Garishnie himself." "I'm not here to argue with a couple of bitch slaves," he growled. "Now get up and walk out of here or I'll have you dragged out of here!" "Lord, is there a problem?" Marie had seen the commotion and come over to investigate. "Leave us be, bitch!" Escaro hissed. "I'm here on official business and I don't need some cunt slave to interfere." Reaching down he seized Sosho by the arm and yanked the struggling girl to her feet. "Leave me alone!" she cried and grabbing a knife from the table stabbed him in the arm. The knife sliced a shallow cut on Escaro's forearm and with a bellow of rage he hit her in the face with his free hand. Sosho immediately fell to the floor. "Lord, please!" Marie cried put he had out toward him. Still enraged Escaro grabbed her wrist and with his free hand slammed it down on her arm, the sickening sound of a bone braking was followed by Marie's cry of pain as she too fell to the floor. Without even looking at the stricken woman Escaro motioned for his men to take Nesho and Sosho. They were gathered up and roughly pushed out the door. Barth and Kelei rushed over to Marie who was trying to sit up, her arm canted at an odd angle, her face very pale. "Barth, she gasped. "Run, run as fast as you can to the Guild Hall. Ask for, oh who is it she said, Jon, that's it! Ask for Jon and tell him what just happened." "Yes, mistress, I will," he stuttered very frightened. "But you mistress, will you be all right?" "Never mind me," Marie said a little more firmly. "Kelei, go get a healer. Barth, you go get the Guild!" "This is bad, very bad," Garishnie muttered as he wrung his hands. Nesho and Sosho stood in front of him, a large purplish bruise becoming visible on Sosho's face. "Our Master will deal with you," Nesho said haughtily as she stared at the obviously frightened man. "Bring them," Garishnie shouted waving his hands. "Bring them now to Putram's Palace. This must be done quickly!" "Very good, Garishnie," Westel cackled as he stared at the two women in chains standing in his audience chamber. Turning to one of his guards he commanded, "Take them to my rooms. Have them prepared, you know how I want them, the young one first." When they had been taken away the Putram of Jeevel turned back to his procurer. "You see? That wasn't so difficult, now was it?" "Your Excellency," Garishnie whined. "I beg of you to think of what you're doing! Their owner is a Guild member and he isn't dead yet!" "No matter," Westel said waving it off. "By the time he returns -- if he returns -- I will be done with them and he can have what is left." "But Your Excellency, you can't take them like you normally would. They are still protected by the..." "Superstition, you oaf. Nothing but superstition." Westel looked at Garishnie and wrinkled his nose like he smelled something putrid. "You've done your part now be gone before I remember just how long it took you to get me my new toys." With that he turned and walked out on the still pleading slaver. The Putram of Jeevel walked into his playroom and grinned at what he saw. Both women were naked, bound and gagged. Nesho was chained to the wall spread-eagled, her arms and legs stretched painfully. Sosho was also restrained but she was tied down over what looked to be a large hassock, her bare ass sticking up in the air. "Well, my little beauties," he cooed. "It's taken far too long to get you here where you belong, and don't think the delay won't cost you. Oh, don't you worry about it. I never had any intention of allowing you to leave here alive but now I think I have some rather special surprises for you." He walked over to where Nesho was struggling against her bonds, the terror evident in her eyes. "But who to do first?" he said tapping fingers to lips. "I do believe the young one, yes the young one. I think we will have some fun while you watch, Momma. Won't that be interesting?" Laughing he walked over to Sosho and smacked her hard on her bare bottom causing her to struggle and scream into her gag. Still looking Nesho in the eye he untied his trousers and let them drop to the floor. His small penis jutted up as he moved behind the bound girl. "Yes, we will have a lot of fun," he whispered still looking at Sosho's mother. "But first I think I'll take the edge off my excitement. It's always much more pleasant when I can work without the distraction of having to cum the first time." With that he spread Sosho's butt cheeks and drove into her with one powerful lunge. The screams could be heard throughout the entire palace and they didn't subside for quite a while. ------- Chapter 24 "Master, there is someone here to see you." "I don't wish to be disturbed," Garishnie said miserably from behind his desk. He looked up to see his seneschal still standing in the doorway. "Didn't you hear me? I said I didn't want to be disturbed." "Yes, Master," the man said nervously, "but they're from the Guild and they said they must see you now." "The Guild?" Garishnie whispered. "Gods, no!" Slowly he stood and waved his man to precede him. Garishnie found Jon and four other elderly Warriors standing in his atrium. Each was decked out in full parade dress, armor brightly polished, bejeweled weapons ready. The formal attire didn't relax Garishnie at all. He was absolutely certain that for all the finery the weapons were razor sharp and ready in an instant for use. If anything the formality scared him when he thought being even more scared was impossible. "Gentlemen," he said with a quivering voice. "How may I be of service? Does the Guild wish to purchase more slaves? Maybe a new one for administration, or for pleasure? I am sorry to say we don't have the selection I normally enjoy but..." "Garishnie, you bore me," Jon said. "If you don't know why I'm here then you're dumber than I thought and to be honest I didn't think that was possible if you still know enough to breathe." "I assure you I have no idea..." "This morning a Guild member under contract to you took two slaves belonging to another Guild member," Jon interrupted. "I want to see that Guild member and the two slaves now." "Well yes, I do have one of your illustrious members in my employ but I can assure you he has been here all morning as have I." "Interesting, since you were seen coming out of the Putram's Palace just hours ago. Do you now know how to be in two places at once? Never mind that. I wouldn't expect the truth from you even if it might save your life, which it could by the way. Get the Guild member out here now!" "Very well," Garishnie said stiffly. "But I protest!" Jon gave an offhanded wave to acknowledge the complaint. Turning, Garishnie sent his servant to find and bring Escaro. Moments later they both returned. Escaro frowned when he saw who was waiting for him. "What do you want?" he said with no pretense. "Is that anyway to great your Guild leaders, Warrior?" Jon said mildly. "You get the respect you earn," Escaro blustered. "Now, what do you want?" ""Very well. Where were you this morning?" "Right here where I am supposed to be." "So you weren't in the Cracked Cask where you took two slaves belonging to another Guild member?" "I don't know what you're talking about," Escaro huffed. "That's interesting since we have heard witnesses say you did just that. They also claim you were wounded in doing so. Is that a bandage I see on your arm, brother?" Escaro glanced at the white linen wrap covering his forearm. "This was an accident, happened in the kitchen. What, you would take the word of slaves over mine?" "Who said anything about slaves, brother?" Jon suddenly waved his hand impatiently. "Enough of this playacting. We know what happened and we know you did it. You realize this is very serious; you have interfered with another member's property. At the very least he will be able to personally challenge you because of it." "Ha! That little pussy doesn't scare me!" Escaro laughed. "Hmm, you are dumber than I thought," Jon said with a slight smile. "Regardless of any challenge he has with the two of you I have filed a grievance against the both of you in his absence. I hereby officially demand you produce the two slaves and hand them over to the Guild pending further grievance action." "Fuck you!" Escaro shouted and took a step towards Jon who remained calm and motionless. Almost instantaneously four swords left their scabbards and were at the ready, their owners poised to go like compressed coiled springs. "Easy, brother," Jon said in that same mild way. "You may be young and strong but surely you aren't foolish enough to think you can best the five of us?" "Don't call me brother, you bastard!" Escaro screamed. Grabbing the Guild badge pinned to his tunic he ripped it off and threw it to the ground. "Here's what I think of you and your stinking Guild." With what could have been a small sigh Jon glanced down at the badge and then stooped to pick it up. Holding the badge in his hand he said, "I declare your contract null and void. Warrior Escaro, you are ordered to return to the Guild Hall and await a disciplinary hearing." "Are you fucking stupid or what?" Escaro shouted again. "I quit, you bastard! Do you hear me? I quit!" "I heard you quite well, but you know as well as I that you can't quit." "Watch me," Escaro growled. "This is not the end, Escaro, but right now I have other more important things to take care of." Turning to Garishnie he asked, "Where are the women? Answer quickly or I'm likely to start cutting off parts of you that can't answer." "The Putram," Garishnie whispered. "The Putram has them." Nervous as a cat in a dog kennel, Dent paced deck of the pilot bridge as if his own energy would help propel the ship along. They were a day out of Salas and the weather was fair helping to speed them along at a good clip. Vel was about to order him below if for no other reason then to calm the nerves of the wary watch-standers who kept glancing over at him. "Sail ho!" came the cry from the topside lookout." "Where away?" Vel shouted up into the rigging. "Two points off the port bow!" came the reply. Using his farseeing glass Vel found the group of white rectangles on the horizon. "What is it?" Dent asked suddenly by Vel's side. "I don't know," Vel admitted. "But it's big and under full sail, coming right for us." "Coincidence?" "Could be, but somehow I doubt it. Better have your men ready their equipment just in case." "Can't we just outrun them?" Dent wanted to know. Vel shook his head. "Not from the direction they're coming, not unless we turn and run back the way we came. Even then as burdened as we are I doubt we could outrun anything but another merchant and if it's another merchant we have nothing to worry about." "No running," Dent said grimly. "I thought you might say that," Vel chuckled. "It's the Thin Blade," Vel said still looking through the glass at the ship still bearing down on them now only ten miles away. "I wonder how they found us?" "Bad luck?" Dent interjected. "If it is, it's the most gods awful bad luck I've ever seen," Vel answered. "She was supposed to be patrolling well away from here. With the Vengeance gone she was pulled back closer to Malshall." "I wonder what they're doing way out here?" Dent mused. "It's almost like they knew exactly where we were going to be," Vel said. Looking at the sun hanging low on the horizon he continued, "Nothing they can do today anyway. Maybe we can lose them tonight. However, with the clear skies and the moon... My guess is we need to be ready for a fight in the morning." "Damn it!" Dent said hitting the rail with his fist. "We don't have time for this shit! No way you think they'll leave us and go past?" "What do you think?" Vel asked. Dent sighed, "No. If nothing else they want vengeance for the Vengeance." "That's pretty much what I think too," Vel said as he walked off to supervise the trimming of the sails, trying to eke out what little extra speed they could. "Tell His Excellency Jon of the Brotherhood is here to see him." "His Excellency is indisposed right now," said the Putram's nervous seneschal." "Then dispose him," growled Jon. "And get deBrisil out here too." A short time later deBrisil joined the Guild's contingent in the audience chamber. DeBrisil was wary; anything involving the Guild could result in disaster and having the Guild "officially" visit was almost a guarantee of such happening. "What can I do for you, Guild Master?" he said. "Tamer you know well enough I'm not the Guild Master, but I am here on official Guild business." "Of course, of course," deBrisil stammered. "What can we do for you?" "Two slaves were stolen from a Guild member this morning and brought here to the Putram. I want them brought out now." "I'm sure there must be some mistake..." "Yes, but I'm not the one making it. Tamer, I'm about two shakes away from voiding all Guild contracts with Jeevel and every second I stand here the shaking gets stronger." "You can't do that!" deBrisil wailed, the blood suddenly rushing from his face. "That would leave us virtually defenseless!" "That's an internal problem," Jon said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "I'm here to resolve a grievance for one of my members and right now what I see is Jeevel in violation of the Code and in breach of contract. So it would be in your best interest to find the Putram and get his skinny little weasel ass out here." "His Excellency isn't feeling well this morning," deBrisil said nervously. "So? What's wrong with him?" "I'm sure I don't know," deBrisil answered. "The hell you don't," Jon barked. "You know every time he takes a shit and what color it is. Don't play games with me, Tamer. What's going on?" "Ah, well, it is rumored he had a small problem with one of his slaves," deBrisil muttered. "Ha! I'll bet he tried to fuck one of those collared women," Jon laughed. "I'll bet that hurt. In fact I'm surprised he's still alive." "Alive, yes," deBrisil sighed. "From what I heard it was like he was struck by lightning. It threw him clear across the room and he's still in pain this morning." "Serves him right, the idiot," Jon said still grinning. Then his grin disappeared like it was never there. "I'm serious about the contracts. You know me, I don't bluff. I want to see him and I want to see him now!" Still pale and shaken deBrisil hurried over to one of the Putram's personal guards; like most of them he was also a Guild member. Jon followed. "Where is His Excellency?" deBrisil hissed. "Ah, he's in his private chamber, Lord, but he left specific instructions not to be disturbed for any reason." "Brother, do you know who I am?" Jon said from behind deBrisil. "Yes, Steward!" the guard snapped to attention. "Be it known," he intoned, "that I Jon, Steward in the most Benevolent Guild of Combat Consultants, is here to adjudicate a grievance between Westel deClover, also know as the Putram of Jeevel, and one Warrior Dent, Guild member. In such capacity I override your contract and enlist your aid until such time as this adjudication is complete. Do you understand and comply?" "Yes, Steward!" One of Jon's companions snickered. "Fine, now that we have that bullshit out of the way, show me to the Putram right now!" Jon ordered. They moved quickly through the Palace until they came to a set of sturdy doors with two guards posted. Nervously they fingered their weapons until Jon's enlisted aide gave them a Guild hand sign meaning "Steward on Official Business". As soon as they saw that they immediately released their weapons and came to full attention. "Open the door," Jon's temporary aide demanded. With only a slight hesitation one guard lifted the latch and pushed open the door. They immediately heard the slap of leather on flesh and a scream of pain. "You bitch!" they heard. "You'll pay for what you did to me! Your death will take weeks and every second you'll pray for the release you'll never get!" Jon stepped through the door and saw two woman tied to a whipping rack and the Putram of Jeevel standing behind them with a short vicious whip in his hand. Their backs already bore the marks of more than a few bites of the lash and a few cut deep enough for blood to seep from the wounds. Hearing them enter, Westel spun around. He was breathing hard, spittle dripping from his lips and off his chin; his eyes were wide and had the same intensity of that of a madman. "How dare you!" he screamed. "Get out now! Guards! Guards!" "Your Excellency," Tamer said stepping around Jon. He was embarrassed by the condition they found his ruler in. He was naked and obviously had been aroused by his beating of the women although his penis looked very red and somewhat deformed. "Lord, Jon is the Guild Steward and he seems to have a grievance against you. This is serious and must be taken care of!" "Grievance? Against me? Why whatever for?" Suddenly the Putram's face became oily and smooth; he walked over to a bench against the wall and picked up a robe. While he was putting it on he continued, "I have no idea what you could be talking about." "These slaves belong to a Guild member," Jon said. "They were taken without his permission this morning." "Oh you're quite wrong, Lord Jon," Westel said smoothly. "These are contraband confiscated due to the non-payment of taxes." "Are they?" said Jon as he moved over and looked into Nesho's eyes. "Funny but I saw these two with their Master just a few weeks ago." "Yes but if you don't pay..." "And in his hand," Jon continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "he had the receipt for the tax paid on these two." "Obviously a forgery." "Actually it was signed by your tax assessor, you probably remember him: short fat fellow, deBabear by name?" "I'm sure it was a forgery." "Not according to deBabear. He admitted to receiving the tax and signing the receipt." "Lies! Lies! All Lies!" the Putram screamed. "I demand a formal hearing!" "A formal hearing?" Jon smiled. "That could possibly be arraigned." He reached out and cupped Nesho's chin in his hand. "Dear, can you understand me?" She nodded her head, yes. "Good. Now, can you feel your Master?" Again she nodded and this time a gleam of hope came to her eye. "Is he getting closer or further away?" "Closer!" she hissed and Jon smiled again. "Good," he whispered. Turning around he looked at the Putram and then at deBrisil. "Your request for a formal hearing is granted," he said. "As soon as the Guild member in question returns, we will have it." "If he returns," the Putram sneered. "Of course," Jon said, "if he doesn't I'll still have one based on the evidence I've already gathered. You," he said to his co-opted aide, "cut these slaves down and escort them back to the Hall." "I protest!" yelled the Putram. "These are contraband and I demand that Jeevel retain custody." "Very well," Jon said after thinking for a bit. Again he looked to the guard, "You are responsible for their wellbeing. Confine them if you must, but you will answer to me for their condition. Do you understand?" "Yes, Steward," the guard said with a nod. Turning to leave, he paused briefly and looked over at the Putram. "I'll also hold you personally responsible, Your Excellency, and you deBrisil. And while I may not be as much of a danger to you as the one who is coming, I can and will make your life short and very unpleasant if you fuck with me." Without waiting for an answer he turned and strode out. "Who does he think he is?" the Putram demanded as they watched the Guild Steward walk away. "He's the one who could leave us defenseless with a single word," deBrisil hissed. "Well I don't care. I will be vindicated," Westel sniffed. "You there, take these slaves to my chambers and confine them there." "I'm sorry, Your Excellency," the guard said. "The Steward told me to take responsibility and I must. There is a holding room in the guard quarters. They'll be safest there." The Putram fumed as the guards helped Nesho and Sosho into robes and led them out the door. "By the gods I'll..." "Do nothing," deBrisil interrupted. "Get it through that thick skull of yours: That man can destroy us if we aren't careful! If you do anything to endanger Jeevel I'll call the Council and we'll have a new Putram by nightfall." "You wouldn't dare!" Westel gasped. "I should have dared long ago, you little weasel! Now you stay away from them!" "It would seem we have our answer," Vel said as they looked over the stern at the ship trailing in their wake. Just after nightfall the Thin Blade had intercepted the Grip and turned into its wake. It had become a stern chase, one the heavily-laden Grip couldn't win. Captain Vel was certain they would make their run just after daybreak. "You sure you don't want to stand and fight, Armsman?" Vel asked. "I'd rather not have to do anything at all," Dent admitted. "True, but this is dangerous." "More dangerous than fighting a whole shipload of really pissed off Malshallian marines?" Dent didn't let him answer before continuing, "Besides look who we have fighting for us; I'd rather not chance it if we can help it." "Do you think they'll fight for us? You know them better than I do." "I think so," Dent said thoughtfully. "But even if they did I doubt their heart would be in it. I have a feeling they wouldn't be about to go full out against their former mates and I doubt those on the Blade would feel as restricted. This way is dangerous, I agree, but no more so then trying to fight it out up front." "It may still come to that," Vel warned. Dent just shrugged. "Very well, let's try it. Have I told you lately that you were insane?" "Not more than three times in the past hour or so," Dent grinned. "And that's not mentioning the fit you threw last night." "Threw a fit?" Vel bellowed. "I threw no fit! I was merely discussing in reasonable tones the relative merits of your proposal." "Reasonable tones?" Dent snorted. "The Bo'sun still can't hear out of one ear." "I thought they were very reasonable, considering the relative insanity of this plan." "Well, if it's that crazy then they shouldn't be expecting it, should they?" "Not unless they're just as insane as you are, which isn't likely," Vel muttered. "I'm going down to the main deck and make sure everything is ready from our end. I assume you'll make sure the ship is ready?" Vel's face scrunched up in a frown but he nodded as Dent turned to leave. Down on the main deck Dent gestured for the expatriate Malshallian fighters to gather around him. "I'm sure most of you know what is happening," he said loudly. "But I want to make it clear for those of you who don't: The ship overtaking us is the Malshallian frigate Thin Blade and it would appear she intends to board us." There were a good many heads nodding and a bit of low muttering coming from the ranks. "I know we have discussed this before, the fact that you may have to fight against your ex-comrades but now it look like it will actually happen." The muttering grew louder. "You know what I have planned and I hope it won't come to any actual hand-to-hand combat, but it could. What I want to know is, can you do it? If you can't I want you to be honest and tell me now. If you can't, I will understand. If you truly feel you can't do this I want you to disarm and stand against the far rail. I give you my word of honor that there will be no reprisal and if by some mischance we are taken you will be able to say you took no part in this battle." "Your Lordship," one of them interrupted; it was the senior non-com. "We've all talked about this amongst ourselves already. We ain't no Guild Warriors but we honor our word just the same." "I know you do," Dent said gravely. "But I still felt I needed to give you the option." "We appreciate that, your Lordship, but it ain't necessary. Besides we figure if they do get aboard we can handle what few you leave in your wake." That brought a few guffaws from the milling marines. "I'll try to live up to your expectations," Dent said dryly. "Thank you all. If my plan works, hopefully we'll never need to know how many are left. Is everything ready?" He looked around at the nodding faces. "Then let's get to it. The Captain should be getting ready to maneuver soon." As soon as he finished, the marines broke into smaller groups and headed for their assigned stations. Glancing up at the pilot bridge Dent saw Vel looking down at him. Dent gave him the All's well sign and Vel nodded. Moving to the rail Dent saw the Thin Blade had approached to about a hundred yards off their port quarter. He could see the grappling lines being readied on their deck and the masses of uniformed men waiting. Suddenly he heard a bellowed command from the pilot bridge and the Grip turned sharply to starboard. At the same time sailors in the rigging began reefing the mainsails slowing the ship even as she turned away from the frigate. Surprised by the unexpected maneuver and unable to slow as quickly, the Blade shot past the Grip. Dent made his way up to the pilot bridge to see what action the Blade would take. "I take it she was surprised by what we did?" Dent asked as Vel tracked the Blade over the stern. "Of course they're surprised!" Vel grumbled. "What we're doing is insane! We're going to be almost dead in the water and at their mercy. He thinks we're either giving up or are going to slug it out with them at a dead slow. Neither one makes much sense. If I was him I'd be expecting some kind of trick." "So you think he'll come in cautiously?" "No," Vel chuckled. "I said if it was me I'd expect a trick; he'll think he has us cowed into surrendering. Look, he's keeping most of his sail up making his turn. He'll come in hard and fast. I don't think he wants to give us a chance to surrender." "Good. That means they'll have most of their sail still up," Dent nodded. "Up or at least unfurled. It makes no difference to us." "How long before they're alongside?" "A half hour at most." "Then I'll be down below waiting," said Dent as he turned to leave. If Vel couldn't read the mind of the Blade's captain, he certainly read his intentions correctly. The Blade made its turn under almost full sail and was heading back towards the slowly-moving Grip at a relatively good clip. At about two-hundred yards astern their sails started to lose their shape as the lines holding them taut were loosened. The frigate began to lose headway as it made its approach. The Grip's crew hadn't been idle during this time. Sailors forming lines passed buckets of seawater up to the rigging where they were poured over the carefully reefed sails. More was sloshed onto the deck making the footing treacherous and slippery. As the Blade pulled to within fifty yards of the Grip's side the reefed sails and as much of the deck as humanly possible had been thoroughly wetted. Dent expected a hail from the Malshallian ship as it pulled alongside, ordering them to heave to and prepare for boarding, but that never came. The first indication of their intentions came as five grappling hooks and line shot up from the Blade's deck and arched over the intervening water to land on the Grip's deck. Instinctively a number of sailors and a few of the soldiers moved to remove them. "Leave them be!" Dent shouted. The men hesitated but after glancing back at him stopped and returned to their former positions. The grappling lines were pulled taut and slowly the two ships closed. Dent could see the Malshallian marines getting ready as the ships came closer, the morning sun reflecting off their drawn weapons, the boarding planks up and ready to be pushed across the railing. Drawing his own sword Dent strode to the middle of the deck and began to wave it over his head. At that signal about half of his own marines bent down behind objects strategically placed on the deck and picked up what looked like wine bottles with rags in place of corks. "Light 'em up!" he bellowed and the rags were held to flames in one of the many small braziers scattered about the deck. When the Blade approached to about ten yards he pointed his sword at the enemy ship and shouted, "Now!" All at once about twenty bottles of brandy with flaming wicks were heading toward the unsuspecting vessel. A few fell short and were extinguished in the waves and a few more landed and failed to break. One was even caught by one quick, although very surprised Malshallian marine. Most landed as expected and broke, the almost invisible blue alcohol flames licking up from the spreading liquor. By itself the liquor didn't burn hot enough or long enough to cause much damage to the thick wooden deck, but that wasn't the goal, the sails were. A few of the improvised firebombs did make it into the sail and rigging and either hit a mast or spar, the wide swaths of dry canvas catching fire easily and burning hotly. "Again!" Dent yelled and more bottles of Salas's finest brandy arched over to the frigate's main deck. Soon almost all of the Blade's sails were burning brightly and pieces of burning canvas fell among the marines now running around the deck in panic. This aided the Grip in a number of ways: First, the soldiers pulling the grappling lines stopped as they covered their heads to try to shield themselves from the burning fallout. Second, the milling mass of men prevented the Blade's crew from attending to the fires. The slack in the grappling lines allowed the Grip's crew to reach and release the hooks that had been keeping the two ships connected. It was only moments until the hooks were either disengaged or their lines cut. The two ships started to slowly drift apart. When the last line was cut, Vel called to the helm and using hard rudder moved the Grip even further away fromthe burning frigate. A loud cheer rose from the Grip's main deck as the gap between the two ships widened. Looking up at the piloting bridge Dent saw Vel bellowing and pointing towards the bow. Turning, he saw that the Grip hadn't come away from the encounter completely unscathed. One of the small forward sails was burning although it looked to be fairly localized. A number of sailors were already up in the rigging cutting the burning canvas free. Minutes later it fell to the deck where it was pushed quickly to the rail and over the side. As it hit the water other sailors were already unreefing the mainsails and bringing them up and into position as quickly as possible. As first one and then another filled with wind, the Grip heeled over slightly and began to move through the water. Heedless of course Vel maneuvered the Grip to catch the wind for maximum speed and soon the still-smoking Thin Blade was left far behind in their wake. "By the gods, it worked!" Captain Vel bellowed and slapped Dent on the back practically knocking him to the deck. "Ten gold's worth of brandy, but it worked!" "Do you think they'll follow us?" Dent asked realigning his plate armor that had been knocked askew by Vel's congratulatory pat. "They might," Vel answered still grinning. "But I doubt it'll do them any good. They'll have to re-rig and break out all new sails. That's going to take them a fair amount of time even if nothing else is damaged." "That little trick would never work twice but by the gods it sure worked once!" he continued. "Brilliant! Simply brilliant! Where'd you learn that?" "I remember reading about it once," Dent said. "Some Salasian army troop used it once against someone attacking one of their forts. I don't remember who, and they used cooking oil instead of brandy. If we hadn't had the brandy as cargo I would have tried the oil instead, but this did seem to work." "That it did. That it certainly did!" "How far behind will this put us?" Dent asked anxiously. "No more than a day. I want to run this course until they're well out of sight and then we can make way towards Jeevel. The Blade may be a bit faster than we are burdened, but they're not that much faster. We'll make Harv'el long before they can catch us." "Good," Dent sighed. "I have the feeling we need to get back as soon as possible." ------- Chapter 25 By the time the familiar peaks of Jeevel came into sight Dent was fit company for neither man nor beast. He had spent most of the intervening days pacing either the main deck or the pilot bridge until Vel finally forbade him access; he was making the watch-standers nervous. The rest of the crew merely avoided him as he prowled the ship. His demeanor changed as they passed through the breakwater into Harv'el harbor. He disappeared for a while and suddenly reappeared on the main deck. Even the sailors that had known him the longest were taken aback by his appearance. Gone was the half-plate armor he normally wore during his battles at sea. A full cuirass consisting of back and breast plate, fauld hung down to protect the abdomen and spaudler with besagew covered the shoulder and armpit. Under the arms and between the two main plates smaller plate were riveted to the boiled leather cuir-bouilli created a miniature brigendine covering these soft areas. In place of the copper half-helmet was a full sized basinet with an attached aventail hanging down over the neck wrapping around to cover the throat. Heavy leather gauntlets over the hands stretched up the forearm lapping over a light bracer connected to a couter at the elbow. Cuisses covered his thighs while greave's protected his lower legs. Thick leather boots, sword, throwing knives and the ever-present dirk completed the ensemble. For someone who was not used to seeing a Guild Warrior in full battle dress -- most everyone on the ship except a few of the ex-Malshallian marines -- the effect was scary. Scary that is until you looked into his eyes; then it was nothing short of terrifying! Standing at the rail still as a statue, Dent stared at the quickly approaching city, face expressionless, eyes as cold and blue as glacial ice. "I take it you're expecting trouble." Intent as he had been Dent hadn't heard Vel move up next to him. "Yes," Dent said curtly. "If there hasn't been trouble already, there will be." "Planning on fighting all of Jeevel by yourself?" "If I have to," was his only reply. Vel chuckled. "Well if you have to fight I doubt it'll be alone." Dent's stern gaze broke slightly and was replaced with a puzzled one as he turned to look at the captain. Vel just motioned with his head and Dent looked back over his shoulder. Behind them all the ex-Malshallian marines were forming up in ranks, each one fully decked out in his own battle gear. In front was the old sergeant, now his force commander. Dent looked at him questioningly but the old soldier merely nodded, a slight smile on his lips. Dent couldn't help himself and he grinned as he nodded in response. "Shouldn't you be on the pilot bridge?" he asked, turning back to Vel. "Telling me how to run my own ship, Warrior?" Vel said gruffly. Then he chuckled again as he continued, "The mate can bring us in; he's done it many times. Besides I wouldn't miss this for all the gold in Jeevel. I've been waiting years for that shit-head Garishnie to take that one step too far. There's not a chance in the world I'm not going to be there to see what happens." Dent finally noticed that Vel was also prepared for battle. Like most of the sailors he never wore body armor into battle but he was fully armed with a sword and as many knives as could be held in various folds of his clothing. "This is my fight," Dent started. "You don't have..." "You can't stop me so it's best if you don't even waste your breath." Dent could only nod. "Thanks." As they approached the dock they saw a large group of men waiting for them. Dent stiffened as he recognized Jon from the Guild and a good number of Guild Warriors standing behind them. Within minutes the Grip lightly touched the dock and lines were thrown over the side to waiting linesmen where they were quickly made fast. Dent moved to where the brow was already being pushed over the side to be secured by more men waiting below. The marine force commander called his men to attention and they formed up in a column ready to disembark behind Dent. As soon as the brow was secured Dent jumped up on it and strode down until he stood directly in front of the waiting Guildsman. "Jon?" he said questioningly. "That's Steward, Guild-member," Jon said lightly. He was standing in a relaxed position and while he was wearing his finest dress uniform, he wasn't dressed for battle. The same couldn't be said for the other Guild Warriors behind him. Each one of them was dressed in full armor as was Dent and they weren't parade uniforms either. The equipment, while well maintained, was obviously very well-used. "To what do I owe this honor, Steward?" Dent asked. "You have been called for an official Adjudication, Guild-member," Jon replied with just a hint of a smile. "During your absence it would appear someone took liberties with certain portions of your property. This came to our attention and a Code grievance was filed to protect said property, pending your approval of course." Dent relaxed somewhat. "This property wouldn't happen to be my two, ah, servants, would it?" "It would as a matter of fact," Jon replied mildly. "Before you get too worried, let me assure you they are fine and being held in a safe place. But here, I'll tell you about it as we walk along. We're going to have the hearing immediately and all the respective parties were called together as soon as we saw your ship making port." "This I'd like to hear," Vel broke in. "Hmm," Jon said cocking his head at the huge Captain. "Vel isn't it? Normally I'd say this is Guild business but there was a portion of this that I understand may indeed be of interest to you. Fine. Come along if you wish and I'll tell you both as we go." "Sir!" Dent's force commander spoke up. "Should we go with you?" Before Dent could answer, Jon spoke up. "That won't be necessary, Warrior. Our brothers," he said motioning to the warriors standing behind him, "aren't here to arrest you. They're here as your escort to the hearing. "Thank you, Force Commander," Dent said, nodding, "but this is Guild business. Take the men back aboard the ship and stand ready. Who knows what is really going on?" "Yes, Sir! All right, you heard him. Back aboard and set watch, hostile territory!" Giving his force commander a salute Dent turned back to Vel and Jon and, with the other Guild Warriors falling in behind them, they started walking towards the palace. By the time they reached the Putram's palace Jon had filled in both Dent and Vel on what had occurred during their absence. It would have been worth a man's life to guess which of the two was more livid. Dent was quietly furious and his hand shook slightly as it unconsciously drifted time and again to the hilt of his sword. Vel's fury was much more evident. Since hearing of the abduction and Marie's broken arm, his face was as red as his hair and his hands were clenched into fists, the muscles in his forearms bulging with the tension he was putting them through. "That rat-bastard is mine," Vel hissed. "Oh, I suppose that can be accommodated," Jon said with an offhand wave. "Since the offending party is or was a member of our Guild it certainly is covered under the Code. But," Jon said glancing over at Dent, "I think you'll probably have to wait your turn." "You can have what I leave," Dent said coldly. "We'll see who gets there first," Vel muttered. Jon only smiled coolly while not looking at either of them. As they approached the front gate Dent noticed the guards standing watch were not Guild members. While most of the palace guards were contracted Warriors, there were a few regulars from the small Jeevelian army. "I am a Steward of the Benevolent Guild of Combat Consultants," Jon said loudly as they approached. "I am here to officially adjudicate a grievance and contract dispute. Direct me to the Putram of Jeevel immediately!" "Ah, Sir," one of the guards said nervously. "We have been ordered not to allow anyone other than you into the pal..." Suddenly Dent heard the sound of swords leaving their scabbards as every warrior in Dent's escort drew his weapon and took a step forward. "You can either take the Steward to the Putram, step aside or die where you stand," one of the warriors growled. "Ah, right, yes of course... Right this way, Steward," the guard practically groveled as he beckoned them to follow. They were ushered into an audience hall already filled with people. The Putram of Jeevel sat on his throne fidgeting, crossing and re-crossing his legs, with an angry frown on his face. A pale Garishnie, with Escaro beside him, stood to one side of the dais while the ambassador from Malshall stood on the other. Glancing around the room Dent saw Don teNeigho, First Councilor Brisil with Marie standing slightly behind him, a cast on one arm; a number of Council members; palace guards -- both Guild members and non-members -- and finally in a corner with Guild members surrounding them stood Nesho and Sosho. Dent immediately took a step toward them but Jon put an arm out to restrain him. Sosho saw him at the same time, shouted his name and tried to run to him but was also restrained by her guards. "Patience, my young friend," Jon said not looking at him. "Patience. It will all work out, but we must observe the forms." Dent grumbled but held his place. "What do you want?" the Putram said crossly and without deference. Jon dropped his arm and took a step forward. "I am Chief Steward for the Jeevel Hall of the Benevolent Guild of Combat Consultants" Jon began. "I am here to adjudicate first, a grievance between one Dent, Guild member, and one Garishnie deBabear of Jeevel. Second, I am here to adjudicate a matter of breach of contract between my Guild and the government of Jeevel." There was a collective gasp heard in the hall. Being found to be in breach of contract could result in the removal of all Guild members from the employ of Jeevel leaving their military emasculated and vulnerable. "I know of no breach of contract," the Putram said still frowning. "We shall see," said Jon. "First I intend to resolve the grievance between Dent and deBabear." "You certainly don't need us for that," the Putram snapped. "I think we do since it involves the taking of the Guild member's property: two slaves that I see are present, without the Guild member's permission." "I know which slaves you're talking about and they were confiscated due to non-payment of import tax. We have the right to control the importation of goods into our own country. This is an internal matter over which you have no jurisdiction!" "I have jurisdiction over anything that affects any member of my Guild," Jon replied frostily. "Are you saying that Garishnie deBabear was acting as your agent in the theft of the two slaves?" "I said nothing of the kind!" the Putram retorted. "I am saying that it was my understanding that the port tax was not paid on these two slaves and therefore we have the right to confiscate them." "Then you must have been misinformed by someone. I have in my possession a receipt for the tax paid for these two slaves." "A forgery! It is false!" "Garishnie deBabear," Jon called loudly. "Do you testify that the receipt in my possession is a forgery? That the tax has not been paid?" "Ah... well... I..." Garishnie wrung his hands not knowing what to do. If he said yes, it was a forgery, and he was found to be lying -- a forgone conclusion -- he would be directly accountable to the deadly-looking warrior standing next to the Chief Steward, the one who was looking at him like a wolf sizing up a errant piglet; or he could admit the tax was paid and pass the responsibility up to the Putram where it really belonged. In that case he would still be accountable to the warrior and even if that were settled he would still have to deal with the Putram, probably fatally. "I, uh, didn't think the tax was paid," he stammered. "But I suppose there could have been a mistake... Maybe... I don't know." "Yes, and it would have been a very large error, wouldn't you say?" "Ah, well, I guess..." "Do I need to call Captain Vel as a witness and bring forth the receipt?" "Ah, no..." "Then we can put quit to this nonsense about tax being owed on them?" "Well, yes, I suppose so." "You suppose so? What is it? Was the tax paid or is it still owed?" "Fine!" Garishnie snapped. "The tax was paid! Are you satisfied?" "Why no," Jon said mildly. "In fact now that we have ascertained the tax was paid we can only conclude the taking of the slaves was in fact a theft of a Guild member's property." "Nonsense! I never took anything!" Garishnie said angrily. "Are you saying that this man isn't under contract to you?" Jon asked, pointing to Escaro. "So what if he is?" "And you didn't order him to take the slaves?" "Well..." "Shall I call witnesses to the theft? I'm sure they can identify just who took them." Unable to stand it any longer Dent stepped forward and shouted, "Garishnie, by the Code I demand you meet me..." Suddenly there was a commotion next to Garishnie and Escaro burst from the crowd with his sword in hand. "Fuck this!" he screamed. "You're mine, you little shit!" as he raised his sword and charged Dent. Taken back momentarily, Dent froze as the huge warrior ran towards him. Instantly his trained reflexes took over and his sword was out and deflecting Escaro's slashing blow. Again and again Escaro hammered at him, the power of fury behind each blow. Although his opponent was bigger and stronger, Dent was quicker and escaped each stroke although at times by only fractions of an inch. Finally he was able to retrieve his dirk and now stood facing the big man with both his weapons ready. "Garishnie," Dent heard Jon call although he was paying very little attention to his surroundings. "Is this man your champion?" Anyone challenged under the code had the option of sending into the duel a surrogate, if he could find one willing, that is. "Yes. Yes, he is!" Garishnie squeaked. The two combatants circled each other warily. The initial adrenalin rush was over and now it was a battle between brute strength against speed, experience and training. Escaro made a few feints trying to draw Dent out which he easily deflected. Dent wondered just how experienced Escaro was. Had he ever fought against someone from Salas? He had never sparred with Dent and never mentioned anything about opposing anyone from Salas, not that they had ever talked much. Deciding to take the chance, Dent feinted with his sword slightly dropping the point of the dirk. Although Dent was faster than Escaro, that didn't mean Escaro was slow. He was a combat veteran and the fact that he had survived any number of contracts meant he was still a very formidable warrior. Taking the dropping dirk as an opening, Escaro quickly sidestepped the feint and slashed down at the seemingly unprotected shoulder. The point of Dent's dirk came up suddenly and the blade of Escaro's sword slid down hitting the cross hilt. Using every bit of strength he could muster, Dent twisted the dirk trapping Escaro's blade in the tines. Quick as a striking snake, Dent smashed down on the trapped blade with the reinforced finger guard of his sword. Unlike in practice, this time the blade received the full brunt of the blow and broke. The shock tore the debladed handle out of the big man's hand as he grunted in surprise. The move turned Dent's body sideways and while there he drove the pommel of his sword up and into the soft armpit of his opponent. Dent's was no rounded practice sword; his had a two inch spike that looked like a four-sided pyramid on the pommel and it drove through the boiled-leather armor protecting this soft region like a hot knife through butter. Escaro screamed and pulled back. Clamping his left hand over the wound he dropped to his knees as blood from a severed artery bubbled out between his fingers. Stepping forward Dent placed the point of his sword under Escaro's chin and lifted it up until the big man was looking him in the eye. Escaro felt numb but even as his eyesight dimmed with blood loss and pain he saw Dent's slight smile and tried to shake his head. Dent drove his sword forward severing the trachea, esophagus and finally the spinal cord. Bereft of any firm support, Escaro's head flopped to one side as Dent placed his knee in Escaro's chest and pulled the sword out. Escaro's body remained kneeling and upright for a moment as the head rolled around on its two attachments of skin and muscle, finally toppling backward to the floor trapping the legs under it in what would have been a very uncomfortable position. Escaro didn't complain about the discomfort. Not even bothering to clean the still dripping sword, Dent stepped over the body and advanced on the now blubbering Garishnie. "Anything!" he screamed dropping to his knees. "Everything of mine is yours if you just let me live!" "Done!" came the shout from behind. Dent paused for a moment and looked behind him. Jon stood there with his hands out as if to stop him. "Done," said Jon again. "I recommend you take the offer, Warrior." "But," Dent snarled, "he deserves to die!" "Well, if that is the case then his Master will decide that, but that should be for another time, don't you think?" "Master?" Dent and Garishnie said at the same time. "Of course," Jon said. "He offered you everything he had, and that includes himself. You now own him, for what's that's worth. My guess is you also own a considerable amount of property and other such things. You now are quite a wealthy young man. Congratulations!" "But..." Garishnie whined. "That is my decision!" Jon proclaimed. Looking over at the warriors guarding Nesho and Sosho he motioned, "Let them go. Their master wants them." The guard holding Sosho released her and she ran over to Dent, practically knocking him down. Nesho calmly walked past her guard although when she got past him she too ran over wrapping him in a tight hug. Putting his arm around both of them, he noticed Nesho wince slightly. Suddenly concerned, he released both of them and spun Nesho around. She still had on the robe she had been given days earlier since their clothes had been taken with the expectation of them never being needed again. The robe was loose enough that Dent could pull back the neck and look down at her back. The red welts were still evident, a few of them still oozing puss. Quickly he looked at Sosho's back finding much the same. "Who did this to you?" he said slowly. "I don't see what the problem is," the Putram interrupted from his seat. "It's just a couple of slaves, by the gods! DeBrisil, give him a couple of golds and be done with it. This is getting boring." "Your Excellency!" Tamer hissed. "Shut! Up!" "I'm afraid it's something more than just a couple of slaves," Jon said. "You damaged a Guild member's property and you'll need to deal with him for that. I would suggest, unless you are much better at dueling than you appear, you either find a champion or start talking settlement." Dent wasn't particularly interested in a settlement at that moment. He pushed the two women behind him and started walking towards the Putram. The blood was congealing on his blade and was no longer dripping but it still discolored the blade. Everyone's eyes were either riveted to it or the now-shaking Putram. "You can't!" he wailed. "I am the Putram! I. Am. The. Putram!" "Sorry, Your Excellency," Jon said with a shrug. He didn't sound even a little bit sorry. "There is no exception in the Code. It's his right and your responsibility." "Don't worry, little man," Vel called from behind them. "If he leaves you alive I still want to talk to you about how a Malshallian frigate found us in open waters." If possible the Putram's face became even paler than it was before. Tamer debated within himself. It could be this young warrior was going to take care of his problem for him. With Westel dead he could be replaced. But with Westel dead he might not be able to hold together the alliance supporting him as First Councilor. Then there was the precedent of assassinating a sitting Putram. Tamer sighed. "Might I make a suggestion?" he offered, stepping forward. Dent paused and looked at the First Councilor. "What do you suggest, Tamer?" Jon said. "You exceed yourself, deBrisil!" the Putram said from behind him. "Shut up, you idiot," deBrisil said calmly. "I'm trying to save your worthless life, although for the life of me I don't know why." The Putram started to open his mouth but then thought better of it. Closing it again, he sulked in his seat glaring at everybody. "As I was saying," he continued, "maybe there is a better way than taking this young fool's life. It would be politically unwise to have our sitting Putram killed right now," he glanced over at the Malshallian ambassador, "especially if it deals with a Guild matter." "Go on," Jon said. Dent just nodded. "I think we can work out some arrangement in which all parties are satisfied." "Hmm," Jon glanced over at Dent. "Do you think we could work out some other arrangement? It would certainly be easier on all of us." Dent looked over at Nesho who just smiled and nodded. He turned to Sosho. She had her fists clenched and was looking at the Putram like a mother bear who found someone with her cubs. She didn't want anything less than death, but strangely enough she sniffed and curtly nodded also. Turning back to Jon, Dent bobbed his head in agreement. "Well done, young warrior," Tamer said relaxing. "Now maybe we can talk about what might be a reasonable settlement." "They will get nothing from us!" the Putram shouted. "Guards!" Tamer said looking over to the ones standing against the wall. "It would appear the Putram is ill and is no longer competent to perform his duties." He looked over at the other Councilors present and as one they all nodded. "He seems to be having a fit. Gag his mouth so he can't bite his tongue and bind his hands and feet. We don't want him to hurt himself, now do we?" Three of the guards dragged the screaming Putram off and out of the room. "Now," Tamer said turning back to Dent and Jon, "what will it take?" Dent pondered for a minute, wondering if he should talk to Nesho first. Then he realized exactly what he wanted. "The Governorship of Safehaven," he finally said. "In perpetuity." "What?" exclaimed a startled deBrisil. "Done!" He was amazed he could get out of this by only granting a meaningless title to a worthless island. "And maybe five thousand in gold," Jon chimed in. "Reparations for damages of course." "What?" deBrisil screamed again. "We have nothing even close to five thousand gold even if we wanted to give it away. No, not a chance. Maybe five hundred..." The final settlement was for two thousand gold, the governorship of the island of Safehaven, and the Vengeance Mine and the Pinya. Nesho and Sosho ran over to give the new Governor of Safehaven (wherever that is) a big kiss from his most loyal subjects. "What about those Malshallian bastards and how they found us?" Vel said loudly. "That I know nothing about," deBrisil said gruffly. "But maybe we should talk. If information has been leaking about the sailing of any of our ships to anybody," he looked over at the Ambassador, "then I want to know about it right now." The Malshallian ambassador smiled coolly and made his way out the door secure in the ancient right of diplomatic immunity. Vel and deBrisil watched as he left. "He's going to be really pissed about the Vengeance, you know," Vel mused. "Somehow I'm not really worried about that right now. I would like to know why you think someone told them where you would be. I will say I'm surprised you didn't bring back another prize if that were the case." "Different situation," Vel said. "My partner over there didn't want to spend the time it would have taken. So instead we left them still burning the last we saw." Hmm," deBrisil said taking Vel's arm and leading him away. "Now that really will -- how do you say it -- piss him off. I'd like to hear the whole story. I believe we had also talked about another little business. I think you mentioned once you were interested in buying the Cracked Cask. Now given the troubles you have had lately I'm sure we can come to an equitable understanding..." "DeBrisil!" Dent interrupted from across the room and Tamer turned to look at him. "What am I suppose to do with this thing?" he asked, pointing to the sobbing Garishnie still kneeling on the floor. "Why whatever you want," Tamer said smiling. "If I may make a suggestion though, my mines can always use more slaves. We have a tendency to use them up rather quickly you see. Maybe I could buy him from you?" "That would be fine with me," Dent said with a shrug. "I don't want him." "Well good. How much do you want?" "I don't know," Dent said with a frown. "Is a copper too much?" "Done!" deBrisil laughed. "I'll have my guards take care of him for you. If you don't mind I'll send the coin and paperwork around tomorrow along with the declaration ceding you the governorship and the deBabear estates. Oh yes, I'll have runners sent out to the various deBabear residences and inform them of their change in status. But he really should be marked quickly, don't you think?" "... and then Captain Vel and Councilor deBrisil went off to talk and Dent brought us right back here!" Sosho was just winding down her energetic, although fairly accurate account of what had happened at the Palace. Of course most of her listeners had been present so it was news only to Kelie, a few of the other serving girls and a couple of regulars who just happened to be in at the time. "So you are the deBabear now, are you?" Marie said with a smile. "I guess that makes you the biggest slaver in Harv'el now." "I can assure you the deBabear name can be forgotten," Dent said with a frown. "And as for the slavery, well I've never been a slaver and I never will be. As soon as we can, that part of the business will be dismantled and done away with!" "You'd stand to lose a lot of money by doing that," Vel interjected. "Slavery may be a dirty business but it is very profitable." "I don't care," Dent responded. "I don't care if we don't make a copper out of this; at least no other slave will pass through those doors." "Someone else will do it then," Vel countered. "I know," Dent sighed. "But at least I'll be able to sleep at night." "Just what is it we -- I mean the Master -- now has?" Sosho asked. Everyone just chuckled at her slip. "Well now, let me think," Don teNeigho said rubbing his chin. "I do know a bit about him -- know your enemy and all that -- so let me see what I remember. Of course there's the main house here in Harv'el, the summer home in the hills, the factor's office and slave barracks down by the blocks, three brothels, two dockside taverns, a dozen or so transport carts and at least two slave ships that I know of. There is probably more but those are the most visible properties I can think of." "Oh my," gasped Nesho. "Oh my, indeed," nodded teNeigho. "And that doesn't count any investments he has. Then there are all the slaves he had as of today. That would include household servants, overseers, sales factors and of course merchandise. I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't one of the largest slave owners in all Harv'el as of today." Dent looked a bit green. "What about a wife?" Nesho asked. "A wife?" croaked Dent. "I wouldn't be, ah, married to her or anything, would I?" "Of course not!" Don responded with glee. "She'd be your slave now just like he is, I mean was. But not to worry; he wasn't married. He does have a daughter though. Got her off one of his household slaves, so he said. Surprisingly enough he claimed her, so up until now she's been free. I'm not sure why he did it other than to maybe marry her off to another House to cement an alliance, but he hadn't done that yet. She must be almost eighteen by now and a pretty thing from what I hear. I've also heard she may have the face of an angel but the disposition of a demon." "What in hell am I supposed to do with her?" Dent demanded. "Whatever you want, I guess," said Vel with a shrug. "Give her to one of your ladies as a pet, maybe?" A messenger dressed in deBrisil house colors hurrying through the door interrupted any further discussion. He beckoned Marie over and whispered softly to her. She looked surprised and whispered hotly back. After a few more rounds of this the messenger finally just shrugged his shoulders, turned around and left. Marie stared at the door with her mouth open for a moment. Suddenly she snapped it shut, turned and marched over to their table. The look on her face was somewhat less than congenial. Anticipating her, Vel stood and braced as she walked up and jabbed her finger into his stomach. "And just when were you planning to tell me you were buying the Cask, my daughters, and oh yes, me!" she shouted. "Oof," he grunted as her finger again jabbed him. "I'll tell you when I'm damn good and ready, woman!" He waited a moment and then yelled, "I'm ready now!" "So just what do you expect me to do?" she hissed and then added a belated, "Master!" "I expect you to do what you're told is what I expect," he bellowed back. "And right now I expect you to turn over running this dump to your oldest daughter; maybe she can do something with it!" "And just what am I going to be doing in the meantime?" she shouted. "You'll be in my villa where you belong. That's where!" he yelled. "And I suppose you're going to put one of those devil collars on me now too, aren't you?" "Damn right I am! If that's what it takes to keep you in line then I damn well will do it!" "Well fine then," she said in a suddenly soft voice. "Then I guess I'll have no choice, will I? Well if that's the way it'll be, then that's the way it will be. Come here, Master." With that she grabbed his beard with her uninjured hand and pulled his head down for a long, long kiss. "Well, maybe he isn't so bad after all," Sosho groused. They were lying in bed after a rather energetic bout of lovemaking, just talking and loving the feel of naked skin on naked skin. "I am so sorry I left you here unprotected," Dent said for about the one-hundredth time. "Would you stop that?" Nesho scolded. "It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known and besides as it turned out we weren't entirely unprotected, now were we?" "Well I'm still sorry and I can assure you I will never leave you in such a position again." "As you say, Master dear," Nesho cooed. "Now what is this about the Governorship of Safehaven? I recognize the name. Wasn't that the first port you visited?" "Yes," Dent said and then he went on to tell them both about his time there. "It's a little isolated," he admitted. "But I think you'll like it. Besides, it's about the safest place I can think of for the four of you." "Maybe five," Sosho piped in. "What?" Dent exclaimed. "Well, what if one of us has twins?" she said. "Or maybe both of us will. That would make six." "Six?" he squeaked. "Sosho!" Nesho scolded, "stop teasing him. Twins don't run in our family so it's highly unlikely." "Well either way, now I'm much too excited to sleep," Dent announced. "I think we can do something about that," Nesho and Sosho said together as they reached for him. "I don't know how you two do that," he whispered, "but don't ever stop." ------- Chapter 26 They were in no particular hurry getting down to breakfast the next morning. Although Nesho hadn't been stricken with the morning sickness to any great extent, Sosho wasn't quite so lucky. They stayed with her until she felt somewhat normal and then made their way down to the dining area. Marie was there bustling around in a particularly chipper mood although she did complain long and loud about the Great Red Villain. Complaining about one's Master was undoubtedly a favorite pastime for the slaves of Jeevel, but it was usually done in a more quiet and restrained manner. For some reason Marie felt no need for this restraint and didn't seem particularly fearful of any potential repercussions. In fact her loud condemnation of his taking her, several times, the night before bordered more on bragging than complaining. Kelie just rolled her eyes and shook her head with a heavy sigh at her mother's diatribe which caused Sosho to almost cough up her breakfast through her nose laughing. Shortly thereafter the subject of her tirade strode through the door with Don teNeigho in tow. "Where is that misbegotten wench?" he bellowed. "Right here where I'm supposed to be, you great fool!" Marie snorted. "I'm turning over this wonderful establishment to my idiot children so they can run it into the ground. That's what the master ordered, isn't it?" "You see what I have to put up with?" Vel said to the room in general. "The disrespect? The abuse? Well we'll put a stop to this right now I say! TeNeigho, I want this wench collared now! I'll not stand for this any longer!" Shaking his head and chuckling Don stepped forward while reaching into his bag for the familiar boxes. Once he had them out and on a table he handed the inactive salidin to Vel. "I assume you'd like to do the honor?" he asked. "Damn right!" Vel grumped. "We'll soon know who the master is around here! Come here, wench!" "You'll not be putting that devil collar on me, you won't!" Marie stated loudly. Even as she said it, she was lifting her long hair, today for once not bound up in a bun, and turned to give him complete and unfettered access to her neck. In fact she didn't stop complaining for even a moment until the salidin was firmly attached and the ends melded into a single continuous band around her neck. When that happened she suddenly stopped with a sharp intake of breath and let out a little sigh. The activation was almost anticlimactic and Marie stood quietly in almost a stupor, a dazed look in her eyes. "Do you want to do the rest of them today?" teNeigho asked Vel. "I don't think so," Vel mused. "I'm not so fond of the idea of a gaggle of fawning females following me around as the Armsman over there is. Besides I'm not all that interested in disturbing their social lives at this time. Maybe later though." Sosho looked over at Kelie and saw a wistful look on the young serving girl's face. Kelie glanced over at Dent and seeing Sosho looking at her, dropped her eyes and started vigorously scrubbing the tabletop in front of her. Sosho sniffed and nodded slightly. Noticing the byplay, Dent shook his head and sighed whereas Nesho used her fingers to cover the smile on her lips. "Well that's done, by the gods!" Vel said sitting heavily on a bench across the table from Dent and the two women. An unusually quiet Marie stood behind him idly running her fingers through his hair. Reaching back and around with one great arm Vel pulled her down beside him on the bench. "Sit down, woman," he said in a gruff but gentle voice. "You'll be needing a bit of time for adjustment; no need to be standing there." "Yes, Master," she said meekly still staring at him. Still chuckling, Don sat on the other side of Vel when Dent motioned him to do so. "A day of celebration!" teNeigho chimed in as he sat. "So ale for everyone! After all it's not every day the mighty fall." "A bit early for ale, isn't it?" Dent said smiling. "And I'm certainly not very mighty," Marie said recovering somewhat. "I don't mean you, youngster," Don responded. "And it's never too early for ale." "Well it is for me," Dent quipped. Nesho nodded and Sosho just looked ill. "Just who are you calling 'fallen', you old fart?" Vel protested. "You don't see a collar around my neck, now do you?" "I don't know," Don cackled. "If I remember correctly there was a certain sea captain who once told me he'd never be anchored to anywhere. Seems to me there's a rather pretty anchor attached to your side there." "Nonsense!" Vel blustered. "Why it was just good business, that's all. As for the collar, well how else am I supposed to control such a willful wench? She's no anchor. When I say we go, we go. Right, wench?" he said turning to Marie. "Of course, Master," Marie answered scrunching herself even closer to him, if that was possible. Then the old Marie surfaced briefly. "But don't you even think of telling me to stay while you leave. If you go, I go with you!" "Ah, yes, well, we'll talk about that later," he said, somewhat taken aback. Everybody except Vel and Marie started laughing. After breakfast was finished, Vel asked about Dent's plans for the day. "I was thinking the three of us would go over to the deBabear house and see what it is we now have." "Hmm," Vel murmured. "You mind if Don and I tag along? I'd like to see the looks on their faces when you come to take possession and I know Don would love to see his nemesis taken down, even if the slimy bastard isn't going to be there. Besides, you may need his services." "I hadn't thought of that," Dent admitted. "No, but I'm sure she did," Vel said nodding toward Nesho. "And don't try looking so innocent to me; I know you too well. I'm sure she has already thought of the pit you're walking into. After all the head of the snake may be gone, but the body is still alive and well. Garishnie's overseers and factors may be slaves but they at least have had it pretty good under him and won't be willing to give it all up so easily. The judicious use of a salidin here and there would do wonders to ensuring your safety, and that of your family. "Maybe we should just stay here," Dent said. "Now what would that say to the vultures here in Harv'el? That you can't control what you've been given? That's a weakness you can't afford, my young friend." "He's right," Nesho said as Dent was about to respond. Dent's mouth snapped shut as she continued, "You are now one of the wealthiest men in Jeevel. You can't afford to show weakness of any kind. You must, and will, take control of the deBabear holdings. I believe Captain Vel is correct: The use of a salidin here or there would be just the thing to ensure the loyalty of those we really need. Believe me, I know," she finished, touching her own salidin. "If you say so," Dent said with a sigh. "It just seems like a lot of trouble to me." "It will be worth it, dear," Nesho said patting his hand. "So that's settled," Vel said. "When do we leave?" "No time like the present, I guess," Dent said as he pushed away from the table and stood up. "Wait here. I want to get my sword. From the sound of it I may need it." "Why don't you change into your dress uniform, Master?" Nesho said looking up at him. "We want you to look your best. Look the Master and you'll be the Master. Sosho, why don't you help him?" "I don't think that's necessary," he muttered. Sosho merely sniffed and followed him up the stairs. "This is it?" Dent said in awe looking up at the huge villa stretching out before them. "Yep," Vel chuckled. "The deBabear House. Impressive isn't it?" "Ah, impressive would be one word," he whispered. "Built on the suffering of slaves," Nesho sniffed with a frown. "True, but you said you're going to change all that," Vel answered. "Won't say if I agree or disagree, but that's up to you." "Yes, it is," Dent said through gritted teeth as he marched up to the front door. As they approached the door it opened and they were greeted by a small elderly man dressed in rich clothing. He bowed deeply as he stepped back allowing them to enter. In the atrium they found a number of slaves kneeling in a line with six big guards standing behind them. The kneeling slaves kept their eyes to the ground and two of them were visibly shaking. The guards were respectful although they still looked nervous. "Ah, Master Dent?" the elderly man said when they were all inside. Dent nodded and said, "Who are you?" "I, ah, I am Paco torBabear, Master," he answered shakily. "I am the House deBabear seneschal." "You were the deBabear seneschal," Nesho said firmly as she stepped forward. "What you will be has yet to be determined." "Ah, Master?" Paco glanced back and forth from Dent to Nesho. "Get used to it," he said gruffly. "This is Nesho and she speaks with my voice. You will obey her as you would me. Understood?" "Ah, yes, Master," he whispered. "He should be the first one, I think," Nesho mused, tapping her finger on one cheek. "Well, I was going to give them all a choice," Dent said slowly. "If they don't want to work here for us we'll find some other place for them." "Hmm, that would be fine for the others, I think," Nesho agreed. "But this one knows too much that we need to know. Am I right, Paco? You helped your former master with his business, didn't you?" "Yes, Mistress," Paco said stiffly. "I had the honor of being his personal secretary as well as running the household for him." Nesho looked over at Dent and after a while he nodded. She turned back to the seneschal. "I don't know how much of a honor that was but you will be useful to us I think." "May I make a suggestion?" Don teNeigho said as he stepped next to Dent. "Of course," Dent motioned for him to go on. "Since you have indicated in the past that the mistress will be running your household, and this one will be assisting her," he indicated Paco. "Maybe he should be bound to her?" "Another step in your plan to change society, Don?" Dent groused. He was answered with an unrepentant shrug of the shoulders. "But maybe you're right. How does that work?" "The same as if they had been bound to you. His ultimate loyalty would be to you as her Liege, but he would also be bound to the Mistress. As such he would be unable to lie or harm her just as he would be prevented from doing so to you. A little extra safety for Mistress Nesho." "And so you weave your web," Dent muttered. "And so you set your trap by telling me exactly what I wanted to hear. Very well, let's do it. I suppose we can change it later is we want to?" "We can change it anytime you want to," teNeigho smiled placidly. Over the mewling protests of the deBabear's old seneschal he was collared and Nesho's blood used to activate the bond. As soon as his salidin was activated his protests stopped and he began following Nesho around like a puppy, his eyes filled almost with reverence. "Well, this is uncomfortable to say the least," Nesho muttered casting a sly glance at the fawning man. "Don't worry," Dent said with a smile. "They get over it quickly. Believe me, I know." Sosho pouted slightly and slapped him lightly one the arm. "See, I told you," he said and he drew her in for a hug. She stopped her pretend pouting long enough to give him a kiss. "Don, how many of those things did you bring?" Dent asked. "I started with twelve, so I have ten left." "Maybe I can make a suggestion this time," Vel piped in. "Bind the guards to yourself. You're going to need strong and very loyal guards, especially for the near future. It may seem a bit costly but there is no better way to ensure loyalty." The guards were somewhat nervous but, having seen no harm done to Paco, quickly complied and afterward Dent sucked his well-punctured thumb as the six guardsmen sat down near the wall looking dazed. Looking at the rest of the kneeling slaves he moved to stand in front of them. "Stand up, all of you," he ordered. "How can I talk to you down there? Stand up and heads up. Let me see you." Slowly they stood and he walked down the line looking at each one of them. "Looking for a new bedmate," Sosho quipped from behind him. He frowned and looked at her sternly. "Behave or you'll get another spanking," he said. "Oh, you'd never spank me now," she smirked patting her stomach. Dent just sighed and shook his head, turning back to the waiting slaves. A number of them had shocked expressions on their faces. Talking to their old master as Sosho had done would have meant a severe beating if not banishment to the House brothels. "Well, I'll make you the same offer: If you don't want to work here, somewhere else will be found." "Does it mean we will get one of those collars, Master," one timidly asked. "Maybe," Dent said. "I haven't decided yet. It may be that I'll want everybody working here in the house to have salidin. Does that bother you?" "Whatever the Master wants," she answered. "Well, you can decide later," he finished. Turning to Paco he said, "Maybe we can take a tour of our new home." "Ah, Master?" It was one of the maids again. "Yes?" "What is our new house name?" Dent just looked around confused. "Is this important?" he asked the whole group. Vel and Don nodded while Paco enthusiastically chimed in. "It is, Master, very important. In Harv'el one is known by one's House name. Also it gives us our name." "Well, let me think," he said. "I know it isn't going to be Dent, that's already driving me crazy with this torDent nonsense. I know!" snapping his fingers. "Our House name will be Siso, from my mother's family. Our House name is deSiso," he said nodding. For a moment Nesho was stunned and then tears welled up in her eyes. Sosho was already crying as she clutched one of his arms and buried her head in his shoulder. Soon a sniffling Nesho joined her daughter, her head nestled in his neck, one hand gently stroking his face. The household servants again looked stunned at the display of obvious affection between their new master and his bound slaves. They began to whisper back and forth sometimes erupting into quiet giggling. Finally one stepped forward tentatively. "Master?" she said so softly Dent almost didn't hear her. "Eh, yes?" he answered. "I think I speak for us all," she looked quickly at the other servants. "We wish to remain here if you'll allow us." "Even if it means wearing salidin?" "May I speak freely Master?" "Please do. I prefer it." She pointed to Nesho and Sosho. "It hasn't hurt your other slaves and although they have tears in their eyes it isn't from pain or sorrow. We are already slaves and will be for the rest of our lives so the mark of a collar means nothing. If you truly allow us to select our fate then we wish it to be here with you." "Then it shall be," he said simply. The house was as magnificent inside as it was outside. Everyone, except the guards who resumed their posts, followed Paco through the various rooms and hallways. They even toured the dingy, crowded slave quarters tucked away in the corner of the mansion. Nesho growled when she saw it and was quickly muttering orders to Paco as if she had been doing it all her life. Hearing what she ordered only caused the serving girls to gasp. Nesho was proving adept at gathering converts even without the collars. Only once did she turn to Dent when it came to knocking down a wall to enlarge a room. He absently waved his hand and told her to do what she felt best; no further permission was required. The Master's suite was a garish display of ostentatious decoration and golden finery. Nesho harrumphed and Sosho sniffed letting all there know changes would soon be made. The only thing the two women approved of was the extra-large bed, twice the size of the one in the Cracked Cask, although Nesho ordered the bedding immediately replaced. Their tour finally came to an end in front of a set of closed doors. "What's in here?" Dent asked. "Ah," Paco said nervously. "These are the Mas... , ah, deBabear's daughter's rooms." "Daughter?" Dent said puzzled. "Oh, that's right someone did say he had one. What's her name again?" "Clarise deBabear Master," he replied. "Clarise torSiso," Nesho corrected. "Of course, Mistress," Dent wrinkled his nose as the man practically groveled. "Well," he said, "open it up." Two of the maids pushed down on the latch and tried to push the doors open but couldn't move them. Waving them aside Dent put his shoulder to the doors and pushed. Although he could feel the resistance he also felt it slowly move as he concentrated on pushing with his legs. Suddenly the resistance disappeared and they all heard a loud crash from the other side. The doors flung open and Dent stumbled into the room tripping over the fallen chest of drawers that had been pushed there to barricade the door. Falling embarrassingly on his face, Dent considered himself lucky as the sword cut meant for him swooshed harmlessly over his head. The force and momentum of the swing wrenched the blade out of the hands of the girl wielding it and spun her around until she landed on her bottom with a surprised look on her face. Having seen the girl swinging at Dent, Sosho let out a bloodcurdling scream and jumped at her with nails hooked and murder in her eyes. The only thing saving either one of them was Vel catching Sosho around the waist as she jumped and holding her fast, hissing and spitting like a wet cat. When she realized what had stopped her, she turned on the Captain until he held her at arms length, her feet dangling above the ground, well away from any of his own soft parts. "Sosho!" Dent said sharply as he pushed himself up and off the floor. "That's enough of that." "But Dent!" she wailed. "She tried to..." "I know what she tried to do," he said putting his hand up. He walked over to the sword lying on the floor, the girl's eyes tracking him with every step. Bending over, he picked it up and chuckled. "If she had connected, the worst she could have done with this," he said rubbing his hand over the dull edge, "is to give me a headache. Look, it's not a real sword, it's just ornamental." "It doesn't matter," Sosho yelled and tried to run but her feet were still six inches off the ground. "Oh, put me down, you big oaf!" "Will you be good?" Vel chuckled, and he gently set her down when she grudgingly nodded. Sosho huffed, straightened her bodice and turned back toward the girl, her eyes mere slits and teeth bared. "Stay right there," Dent ordered. "You will not be getting into any fights in your condition. Do you understand?" Their eyes locked until finally Sosho nodded, but it was clear she was still one very unhappy young lady. Hearing movement, their attention turned to the subject of Sosho's ire who was at that time clambering back to her feet. Dent remembered someone saying deBabear's daughter was pretty but that was barely adequate; she was gorgeous! Slim with rounded hips, an adequate bosom, tall to the point of being maybe just an inch or two shorter than Dent and long blonde hair the color of sun-bleached flax. But the face, the face was something truly out of this world. Even distorted with hate this face had to be the most beautiful that he had ever seen anywhere. He immediately resolved to never, ever, ever, say that where his two wives could hear it. In fact it would be best if it were never said aloud, ever! Or even thought about! Shaking his head slightly he slowly moved closer to her, his every step being watched like a mountain cat watching a wolf approach. "Clarise, I presume?" he asked. "I, am, Clarise deBabear," she said loudly. "Get out of my rooms this instant! Paco, remove them immediately! When my father gets here he will have you killed!" "Sorry to disillusion you, but that won't be happening," Dent said softly, talking like he was speaking to a wild animal that would bolt any second. "And I'm afraid I must tell you your father isn't coming home, soon or ever." "No, that's not true," she said shaking her head with conviction. "I'm afraid so, bitch!" Sosho interjected from across the room. "The last we saw him he was shitting his pants waiting to be taken to the mines." "That's not true, you little whore!" Clarise shouted. "Whore? I'll give you whore, you stuck up piece of shit!" Sosho tried to move toward Clarise but her arms and legs wouldn't move. Strain as she would she couldn't violate Dent's order to stay. "I can see you have your little bitch trained well," Clarise said with a vicious smile. "The same training you're about to get," Dent said getting more than a little pissed off at the girl in front of him. Someone had been completely correct: She may look like an angel but her personality wasn't worth a pile of shit! "Don," Dent spoke keeping he eyes on the girl, "you have another salidin if I remember correctly?" "I certainly do," he said with a chuckle. "I assume you want one for this little vixen?" "I think it would be best," Dent mused. "Well then, no sense in waiting." Setting his bag down on the overturned chest Don pulled out a box with a salidin and the activator. Slowly he began to move toward Clarise. "You'll not be putting anything on me, you bastard!" she hissed and from somewhere in the folds of her gown she drew a small knife and brandished it at the O'Tech technician. "Oh, this is going to be interesting," teNeigho muttered stopping his forward progress. "Now that's not very nice," Dent said bending down to pick up a small pillow lying on the floor. Holding it in front of him like a buckler, Dent advanced on the young girl. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but either way it will be done!" "Fuck you, asshole!" she shouted stabbing at him as he came close. "Such a mouth on you," he taunted. "Such a pretty girl but such a potty mouth. You'll have to learn we don't tolerate that kind of behavior in our household." Moving back and forth he slowly advanced while keeping the pillow trained on the knife. He was happy to note that Clarise obviously hadn't been trained with a knife since she made no move to protect the blade even as she made ineffectual thrusts at him. Finally he was close enough that the knife actually made contact with the pillow a few times, feathers floating gently in the air from the few tears it made. With a loud grunt she thrust into the pillow and suddenly Dent's free hand was grabbing her wrist, holding her more firmly than a steel manacle. Steadily squeezing and shaking her wrist she screamed and dropped the knife. Dropping the pillow at the same time Dent grabbed her other wrist just before she could get her nails into his eyes. Her hands incapacitated, Clarise started kicking his leg at the same time she tried to bite the hands holding her. Quickly he twirled her around until he had her wrapped up tightly in his arms, she was still kicking and screaming as hard and loudly as she could. "Ah," Dent said looking back over his shoulder, "do you think someone might want to help me here?" Laughing so hard he could barely breathe, Vel strode over and clamped his hands on her upper arms and straight-armed the girl out in front of him. Dent let go and Vel lifted her off the ground. "Got yourself a wildcat here, don't you?" Vel said. "No kidding?" Dent answered. "Don, do you think we could get this done quickly?" "Right here," teNeigho said at his side. "Let me put it on. I think speed and safety should take precedence over tradition in this case." Dent nodded as Don wrapped the gray band around the struggling girl's neck and the ends melded into each other. Wasting no time he pulled out the pin and stuck Dent's thumb and spread the blood on the band. Quickly he brought up the activator and soon the salidin was glowing with the familiar golden hues. As soon as he saw that happening Vel dropped the girl and she fell to a heap on the floor. "Ack, grewwel, ohhh!" Clarise immediately reached up to her neck and started tugging on the salidin sounding like she was chocking. After a few minutes she started turning purple and she stopped, gasping for breath. "It won't do you any good, child," Don said mildly. "It won't come off and you'll just hurt yourself if you try." "She's acting like she can't breathe," Dent said nervously. "Isn't there something we can do? Is something wrong? It's not defective, is it?" "Absolutely not," Don said with a grin. "She's fighting the bond and it's telling her not to. She'll be fine as soon as she stops struggling." "Yes, but she looks like she's choking to death," Dent replied. "Not to worry," Don soothed. "At worst it'll choke her until she passes out. When she passes out and stops fighting it, she'll be able to breathe again. My goodness, what a fighter! I don't think I've ever seen one fight this hard against the bond! I will say, Master Dent, you certainly do seem to bring out the extremes in your women." "Well," he said, "if you think she'll be all right..." "She'll be fine, maybe not happy, but fine. You might want to put her in a room by herself for a while. She needs time to become accustomed to the bond." "How long will that take?" Dent asked. "I don't know," Don admitted. "A day... two maybe, a week at most. Depends on how long she decides to fight it." He pursed his lips and looked down at the girl. "With this one, I'd say a week." Clarise was gasping for breath again and struggling to sit up. Dent moved to help her up but Don placed a hand on his arm gently restraining him. "I think it best if we leave her here for a few minutes. Why don't we move over there and give her some room. You've never had experience with someone fighting the bond before and there are a few things we need to discuss." Dent nodded agreement and the three of them started to walk over to the group standing by the door. Before they had gone more than a few steps Dent heard Nesho shout, "Dent, look out behind you!" Turning quickly he was just able to see Clarise fall to the floor again grabbing her throat. The clay pot she was about to hit him with crashed to the floor and broke into small pieces. "This one is a slow learner, I see," Don said shaking his head. "Well, she'll learn. They all do." Quickly they moved over to the door while keeping a watchful eye on the thoroughly pissed off, and again choking, Clarise. Once they got there Nesho hugged him and said, "Are you all right?" "I'm fine," Dent said with a smile. "Do you think I can be allowed to move now," Sosho said through gritted teeth. "What? Oh, yes, of course you can. I'm sorry, baby," he said as she moved over to stand by him. "Sometimes I forget," he said sheepishly. "I know," she said. "Just try not to let it happen too often, all right?" She looked over at Clarise who was once again struggling to sit up. "So what are you going to do with the bitch?" "Sosho," he admonished, and then he just shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't even planning to have her collared until she started acting like a..." "Bitch," Sosho completed for him. He just shook his head and sighed. Turning to Vel and teNeigho he said, "I can hardly believe she is Garishnie's daughter. She doesn't look anything like him." "From what I've been told she favors her mother. I never saw her myself; Garishnie had sold her before I got here," Vel said. "Sold his daughter's mother?" Dent gasped. "What an asshole!" "Hmm," Nesho pursed her lips and looked thoughtful. "What are you thinking, beautiful?" Dent asked. "I wonder if that had something to do with how she turned out," Nesho said, still thinking. "I'll bet she's been a pain in the ass her whole life," Sosho interjected. "N-Not from what I was told Mistress," one of the housekeepers said. All eyes turned to here and she blushed but then stood up straight. "I wasn't here before either, but the ones that were said she was a lovely child until Urali was sold. They said the poor little girl's heart was broken and she did nothing but cry for weeks. After that, well, she was different." "Yes, that is all very well but it doesn't excuse her actions now," Dent said. "She's going to have to learn how to behave again is all," Nesho said. "Is there somewhere we can put her so she can be alone as Dom teNeigho suggested?" The housekeeper paused for a moment and nodded. "There's a small room off the kitchen where the cook sometimes sleeps. It's has nothing really except a bed." "That would be perfect," Don nodded. "Now remember, she will be fighting you for a while at least. You must be very specific when you give her instructions. She will follow them, but probably no more. She won't do anything she knows you don't want her to do but that still leaves a great deal of latitude, so be cautious." "Well, let me give it a try. Clarise," her head whipped around like she had been hit, "I want you to follow this woman to the room she talked about. I want you to stay there at least today and tomorrow. You may leave to relieve yourself and immediately return. Food will be brought to you. Do you understand?" "Yes I understand, bastard," Clarise growled. "I also want you to be temperate in your language and moderate in your actions. Do you see these two women?" he indicated Nesho and Sosho. "You will obey them as you would me. Do you understand?" "Yes gods da..." again she started choking. Dent sighed. "Well, you'll either learn or you won't," he said with a shrug. "Get going now." When Clarise and the housekeeper had gone, one of the other maids asked Dent, "Master, what do you want done with this room?" "Leave it just the way it is," he said. "Sooner or later she will have to clean it up." "Where do you want her to stay when she's, ah, done?" Nesho asked. "That's your problem," he said with a grin. "You're in charge of this household, not me." "Hmm, I'll have to think about it." "You're going to have some interesting times with that one," Vel commented as they walked down to the atrium. "I'm sure you're right," Dent said with a frown. "What in blazes am I going to do with her? Another housekeeper? Cook? I'm not sure if she's really useful for anything." "Oh, she's pretty enough to be of use, I'll bet," Vel laughed. "I suppose you could always sell her or send her to one of your brothels." "She will be docile soon enough," teNeigho said with conviction. "Give it a little time. I can't guarantee she will like you, but she will obey you." "I'm not worried about her liking me," Dent said. "I just want her to not try to kill someone. I can't see myself selling her. Who would I sell her to? As for the brothels, those are going to be done away with immediately! I will not tolerate having my name associated with something so grotesque!" "As a sailor I'm not sure I would agree with that," Vel grumbled. "Besides you would put a lot of women out on the street with no means of support. Why would you do that?" "I just can't stand the thought of someone being forced to do that." "Some of them may choose to do it." "What? I can't believe that!" Dent exclaimed. "Ask your lady there. She can tell you." "Huh? Nesho, is that true?" "In some cases, yes," Nesho said slowly. "But you would have to be careful how you asked. Yes, some would do it by choice. It's a relatively easy life, after all, or at least can be if you are treated well." "Are you saying we shouldn't close them down?" Dent asked in surprise. "No, I'm not saying that, but it would be a good idea to look into it carefully before we do anything. If we aren't careful, we could hurt those women more than they already have been." "I guess you're right," he admitted. "But I want something done, and quickly." "Yes, Master," she said giving him a little smile. "In the meantime I still don't know what to do with Clarise," he said, fuming. "Let me work on that, Master. I'll think of something." "That would be best I guess. Let me know what you decide." "All I can say is," Vel interjected, "you have been far too lucky with your women so far. It's about time you learned how the rest of us live." Marie laughed and slapped him on the arm. ------- "I guess we'll need to get somebody to move our things over here from the Cask," Dent noted as they reached the front door. "I can have that done, Master," Paco chimed in. "If you could have someone to show them where this Cask is they can have it moved today." "I can have Horince or Baneito do that, Master deSiso," Marie said. "Who?" He had forgotten that his House name was now deSiso. "Oh, yes, that's right. Well that would be fine, Marie. Send one or both of them around." "You might think about buying them from Master deBrisil," she said shyly. "I know they would love to work for you and they are good boys." "Ah, well, I guess we could do that," Dent said hesitantly. "I suppose we could use them. They are good workers. I just have this problem with buying other human beings." "Think of it as hiring them," Nesho said. "We'll just be paying them room and board. I know it bothers you, dear, but I'm sure they would be much happier here with us than where they are now." "Well why not?" Dent said almost with a sigh. "If we're not careful we'll own the whole damn town before long!" Soon all their guests took their leave and the newly christened deSisos were left alone in their new house with its staff. "What should we do first?" Dent asked, somewhat at a loss. "Midday meal in the garden Master? Mistress?" Paco asked. "It's a start," Dent quipped. Over their meal they discussed what they should do next. "I think the three of us need to sit down with Paco and sort out just what we've come into here," Nesho said. "I agree," nodded Dent. "Master, Momma," Sosho said. "Do I have to? It sounds rather boring. Besides there's something else I'd rather do." Dent turned to Nesho and shrugged his shoulders. Nesho looked at her daughter and asked, "What is that, dear?" "I want to run the household!" she exclaimed. "Both of you will be busy with so many other things; I just know you won't have time for this. I think I can do it and I want to try." Nesho looked back at Dent and he nodded. Smiling she turned back to Sosho. "Very well, dear. You can certainly give it a try, but please ask if there is something you don't understand or think you can't handle. It's best to ask for help before it becomes a problem." "And make sure you aren't cooking for us," Dent interjected with a sly smile. "The staff hasn't built up a tolerance to your cooking and we don't want to have to replace them this early." "Oh you!" she cried, jumped up and plopped down in his lap where she began to tickle him. ------- Chapter 27 "This is unbelievable!" Dent exclaimed as he looked at the pile of papers sitting on the desk in front of him. "How could anyone understand, let alone run, this mess?" Dent, Nesho and Paco spent the better part of three days secluded in Garishnie's old study going over the details of the deBabear's far flung empire. It turned out to be far more substantial then even teNeigho was aware. In addition to the two houses -- mansions really -- and the three brothels, there were a number of other rental properties deBabear had a controlling interest in that would normally never have been associated with the slave trade. There weren't three ships but ten, most currently sitting idle in other ports. It also appeared that he had loaned a substantial amount of money to a number of highly-placed and influential Houses in Harv'el and even more as personal loans to the Putram himself. "It's all fairly standard, dear," Nesho said without looking up from an inventory of goods presently sitting in one of their warehouses. "I must admit that while Garishnie was a real prick, he was also a good businessman. I have never seen anything quite this substantial before but I can see the logic of what he did." "I'm glad one of us does," he muttered. "Now what do we do with it?" "Whatever you want," she replied. "I take it you still want to rid ourselves of the slave trade trappings?" He nodded. "Then the first thing we need to do is to decide what to do with the merchandise on hand. Unfortunately we can't just let them go free. That is strictly against the law here." "Maybe we could move them somewhere else and then set them free?" "Hmm, maybe. But where? All the islands we could send them to have the same laws for the most part. Even Salas won't accept them. Better we find something for them to do with us." "How many do we have that are, um, merchandise?" Dent asked. "About two-hundred," Nesho said. "Two-hundred?" Dent blanched. "Yes, some ninety-three men and the rest women, of course. A lot seem to be sailors from the ships taken by Jeevel's privateers. Although a fair number appear to be skilled labor of one kind or another;: carpenters, masons and the like. The women for the most part are imported from other slaving countries and look to be here as either fodder for the brothels or household servants." Nesho sat back and looked at Dent thoughtfully. "We don't have to decide anything immediately. They are costing us only food for the most part and we can cover that from our cash position for quite some time. Closing down our activities in the slave trade will be easier than I first thought. That part has been relatively inactive for a while given the lack of trade in general." "Good," he said. "I want out of it as soon as possible." "The next question is what to do with all these ships," Nesho pursed her lips. "They are spread out all over and are basically just sitting doing nothing." "Can they be used to ship cargo?" he asked. "I don't know," she admitted. "We can probably ask Vel about that." "Why don't we sell or lease them to Southern Cross like we are doing with the Makro?" The Vengeance Mine had been renamed the Makro after Dent's mother and was being leased to Southern Cross Shipping Company. It was presently undergoing the same conversion the Death Grip had. In a few weeks there would be two fast, well-armed ships in the company's tiny fleet. "I'll talk to Vel about that," Nesho said nodding. "I don't think he'll be ready to use them anytime soon but..." They were interrupted by Clarise walking into the room unannounced. "I want to talk to you," she demanded imperiously. Don teNeigho had been wrong about one thing: It hadn't taken the full week for Clarise to adjust to her bond, sort of. Having stayed in her room for the two days as he ordered, she had been out since that morning and was making a real pain in the ass of herself. Although she had been "temperate in language and moderate in actions" as he instructed, temperate and moderate seemed to be words widely open to interpretation. She had already started a spat with Sosho until they both realized Sosho's word became her law as per his instruction. Clarise quickly learned it was foolish to cross swords with the younger woman as it were. Sosho not only held a grudge but crushed it to her bosom never letting go. Sosho didn't forget Clarise's attempt to eviscerate her man and given a chance was going to pay her back with interest. Sosho had her cleaning chamber pots when Nesho found them. Nesho told her daughter to leave Clarise alone until Dent had a chance to deal with her, after Clarise finished the pots, of course. "Clarise," Dent said with exasperation, "it is not polite to barge in and interrupt someone while they're busy. I insist you knock first and wait for permission to enter from now on." "This is my house and I'll do what I please..." she started and then gave a little gasp and her hands went to her throat again. Dent just smiled and shook his head. Nesho had a smirk on her face. "I mean of course I will," Clarise gasped. "Master," Nesho said to the girl. "What?" Clarise stared at her blankly. "I'm sure you meant to say 'Of course I will, Master, '" Nesho prompted. "I'll call no man Mas... ack!" she gagged. Recovering quickly she continued, "I mean, of course I will, Master!" she almost spit out the word. "Very good, Clarise," Dent said mildly. "Now what can I do for you?" "I deman... ah, would like to know what you have planned for me?" "I don't really know yet," he said shrugging his shoulder. "What should I do with you?" "I don't know," said a frustrated Clarise. "I was supposed to be betrothed to Juanen of House deOrlen in another six ten-day but he would never look at me now! Not like this!" she pointed to her salidin. "Are you in love with this Juanen?" he asked. "Of course not!" she said looking at him like he was insane. "I said I was going to be betrothed to him. What does love have to do with anything?" "If you loved each other then I would contact House deOrlen and see about getting the two of you together, is what," he said. "You'd sell me to them is what you mean," she snapped. "There may be cash involved," he muttered, "but I don't know if we have enough gold to make it worth their while." Nesho snorted while Clarise fumed. "Well, if that's not possible," Dent continued, "then just what should I do with you?" "It's obvious, of course," Clarise said standing up straight, her nose in the air. "It is?" he asked. "Please enlighten me." "You have bonded me to yourself," she made the word sound like a curse. "I will become your woman. I know you are sleeping in my father's room and I should be moved in there immediately." Nesho started laughing hard and holding her side while Dent stared at the girl in disbelief. "You? My woman?" he sputtered. "I don't know where you got that idea but let me dissuade you of it right now. Do you see this woman sitting here? She is my woman, my wife. You've met Sosho, I understand; she is also my woman and my wife. You are not and will not be my woman." "That's absurd!" Clarise said haughtily. "They are mere slaves; they can't be your wives. Besides I am much more beautiful and better bred for that matter. You may have had your dalliances with these common tramps but now you have a real woman and you do not need them any longer." Nesho continued laughing although she tried to hold it back by covering her mouth. Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she looked between Dent and the girl. "Nesho," Dent said reproachfully, "that's not helping." Turning back to Clarise he pondered just what to say. "I admit you are a beautiful girl," he started and she smiled giving a little sniff to Nesho, which of course set Nesho off on another round of laughter. "As I was saying," he said a little louder. "You are beautiful, but let me assure you, you are not more beautiful that either my Nesho or Sosho and to be perfectly honest the ugliness of your soul eclipses that beauty every time you open your mouth. I have no intention of making you my woman. I don't know right now just what I will do with you, but if you don't improve that attitude of yours, it will be something unpleasant. Maybe I will give you to Sosho as a toy. I'm sure she would be happy to find your proper place in this household. Is that understood?" Clarise just stood staring at him, her mouth wide open. Suddenly her eyes flared and she tried to force the words out of her mouth. "You... can't... you... are... argh!" she finally screamed and turning, fled from the room. "That one sure has a fire in her," Nesho said still chuckling. Dent just shook his head and putting his head in his hands, sighed. "Yes, we can use them," Vel said after pondering for a bit. "They're configured for slave transport of course but it wouldn't take very long to modify them for cargo. I'm familiar with that type of ship: a little slow but they can carry quite a load." "The problem is they're spread out all over the place," he continued. "It would be best to have them all here, and then we can determine what to do with them." "I'm not sure I want them here in Harv'el," Dent added. "I'm not comfortable here. That bastard, Westel, is still Putram and even though deBrisil seems to be running things now, I'm not sure I trust him either." Vel, Dent, Nesho and Paco were meeting at the Southern Cross factor's office. Dent was a little reluctant to include Garishnie's old seneschal in their discussions but both Nesho and then Vel assured him he could be trusted, now. The deBabear's old retainer seemed to have no difficulties in shifting his new loyalties, even given the control the salidin provided. In fact the only emotion one could infer about the fate of his previous owner was one of only slightly repressed glee. He had proven to be invaluable in understanding the intricacies of deBabear's little empire and appeared to be completely devoted to Nesho. "I can understand that," Vel said with a frown. "I don't think deBrisil is necessarily a bad man, but he is under pressure right now. It turns out deClover and his family had more support then anticipated; it appears impossible to remove him right now. At least deBrisil has been able to keep him in seclusion for the time being, due to his 'illness, ' but for how long is the question. The problem is, if not Harv'el then where?" "Safehaven, that's where," Dent said with conviction. Vel pondered for a moment and then nodded. "That would be possible, I suppose." Suddenly he broke into a grin, "At least we could expect the support of the new governor." "That's right," Dent replied. "True, it's a small harbor, but what's there isn't being utilized and there's room to expand. It'll never be a big as Harv'el or any of the other major ports but it should be adequate as a home port for us. We have been discussing this with a naval architect and based on the charts available it appears the addition of two to three new docks, possibly even more, are well within reason. The initial cost is substantial but Nesho believes if we divest ourselves of a few of the properties I wanted to get rid of anyway we can swing it." "How do you envision this working?" Vel asked. "Do you want a buy in to Southern Cross to provide capital? That would place you in a majority position and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that." "No. We're happy with the way things are with Southern Cross now. What Nesho has tentatively set up is a separate company -- our company -- which would build and maintain the facilities and lease space to SC. The terms we can work out later but I can assure you it will be favorable to both of us. After all, we do own part of SC, even if it's a small part. "The first thing we need to do is retrieve those ships I have scattered all over the place. The two in port now are going to begin their conversion soon. When they're done we'll have the lifting capacity to transport the materials needed for at least one new dock and a warehouse." "What about labor?" Vel asked. "I'm not sure Safehaven can support a building program like that. There are some skilled craftsmen there, I'm sure, but not in the numbers you would need." "We'll import our own," Dent said with a grin. "It turns out deBabear had a number of craftsmen in his 'inventory'. Why I don't know, but he did. I asked them if they would be willing to work away from Harv'el and they seemed quite agreeable." "You asked them? That must have been a bit of a shock to them: A slave being asked if and where he wanted to work." "Shock is as good a word as any," Dent agreed. "In fact one actually fainted. All the same, I gave them the same choice I give all our other, ah, associates. To a man they all indicated they wouldn't mind leaving Harv'el. In fact I got the impression as long as it was away from here, they wouldn't mind me sending them to hell itself. A good number of the men that weren't craftsmen indicated they would like to learn, and a fair number of the women also, for that matter." "That's a bit radical, isn't it," Vel said. "You aren't honestly considering doing that, are you?" "Why not?" Dent said with a shrug. "You can have only so many housekeepers and cooks. Why can't a woman cut a board or tar a seam? It can't hurt to try. I need craftsman now and there just aren't enough men to go around. Not only do I intend to refit the rest of the fleet in Safehaven, but I'm also going to need housing and other facilities built. I plan to move my entire family there within the next six months so things are going to have to get done quickly." "Why six months?" Vel asked. "First, because I want to get out of here as soon as possible; second, because I intend for my first child born there." As he said this he reached over and grasped Nesho's hand giving it a gentle squeeze. "If everything goes as planned the two slavers being converted will be ready at about the same time the Makro is. The Pinya is already set to go so we'll have three ship's worth of material ready when we get started. I'm assuming the Makro will be carrying her own cargo. I've already split the guard force and recruited a few new members. Their training should be complete about the time you'll want to sail. In fact everything should be ready shortly after you get back from this trip." "I wish you were going with us," Vel said wistfully. "I know, I know: It's not possible but it would make me happier. The guard still hasn't been battle tested even given the brush with the Blade and it would make me feel better if you were there." "Don't worry," Dent said with a grin. "I've arranged for a short-term contract with a couple of Warriors from the Guild. Both are veterans and very good. Yes, it's a little costly but they are helping with the training now and will accompany you on the voyage. I think that unless you meet up with a full Malshall battle fleet you'll be more than adequately protected. You should be gone about four weeks and by the time you get back we should have everything ready for our first trip to Safehaven. I know there's not much around here to worry about but I'd like the Makro to escort us to Safehaven for that first trip." "That shouldn't be a problem," Vel said. "Everything seems to be coming together nicely. So how has your other little problem been coming along?" "What little problem?" Dent asked guardedly. "Clarise, of course," Vel said grinning. "I understand she has been quite a little handful." "Yeah, well, that seems to be getting a little better anyway," Dent muttered. For the few days following their discussion in the den Clarise had required frequent and firm guidance by the three of them to not only keep the civility of the household at a barely tolerable level but also to keep the existing staff from choking her. What surprised Dent was Sosho's reaction to hearing about Clarise's declaration of her intent. Dent was sure she would have gone after the older girl tooth and nail but nothing of the kind happened. Instead she reacted much the way Nesho did, laughing until she actually peed herself. Instead of hounding Clarise she instead took to having the girl follow her around as she learned the tasks of managing the household. Dent may have been puzzled but Nesho wasn't. "Sosho feels much more secure now," she said. "She has had to grow up quickly and in the beginning I don't think she really felt a part of us. Now that she is carrying your child she is beginning to understand, on an emotional level and not just intellectual, that she is permanently a part of our group." "Of course she's a part of us!" Dent scoffed. "How could she not be? Is it something I did, or maybe didn't do?" "Nothing like that at all," Nesho said. "Remember she is still very young for all that she is a woman now and a mother-to-be. You must admit our situation is a bit different than what she grew up with. Two women and one man is a little unusual for us. A man having a mistress or two on the side, yes; even a man with two wives isn't unheard of, but all together, sleeping in one bed? That's unusual." "Do you think we should, ah, change anything?" "Absolutely not!" she said firmly. "I said it was unusual and being young she needed more time to adjust. I think we can see that she has adjusted and certainly neither of us want to change anything!" "Well I certainly don't! But that still doesn't explain her -- I don't know how to put this -- her lack of cruelty toward Clarise." "Dent! Sosho is never cruel! She just has a highly rigid and durable sense of justice and equitable compensation for transgressions against her family." "She does hold a grudge, I'll give you that." Nesho ignored his comment. "I'd like to think Clarise is more a product of her environment than a truly mean-spirited person," continued Nesho with a shrug. "My guess? She has been very lonely living here. She has never had any friends, always surrounded by household slaves, and you know how they were treated. Look at what happened to her mother! Sosho has always had friends and yet has had nobody her age around since we left Salas. I think once they get over their initial difficulties it may turn out they actually enjoy each other's company." "Maybe," Dent admitted, his tone of voice questioning the idea that anyone could enjoy Clarise's company. "Were you ever able to find out what happened to Clarise's mother?" "No," Nesho said shaking her head. "The records -- and Garishnie did keep very detailed records -- indicate she was sold at auction to a factor from New Belise. Nothing after that." "Pity," Dent said. "But I suppose there wasn't much of a chance after all this time anyway. Still, maybe sometime in the future we can look into that a little more. Well, they haven't killed each other so I guess that's progress no matter how you look at it. Gods help us if they do actually become friends. I'd hate to imagine the trouble those two could get into working as a team!" The next few weeks passed quietly. Vel and the Death Grip left on their scheduled voyage without fanfare and the conversion of the Makro and the former slave ships already docked at Harv'el proceeded at a reasonable pace. The training of the remaining guard force took up a considerable amount of Dent's time and he gladly left the business and household activities to his wives. It had become their usual practice, weather permitting, to sit out in the garden after the evening meal relaxing and discussing the events of the day. "I still don't see why mother has to stay here when we go to Safehaven," Sosho said for twentieth or twenty-fifth time since the subject had been broached. It had been decided, although not unanimously, that Dent and Sosho would make the first trip to Safehaven when the Grip returned and Makro's small fleet was ready. "We've already gone over this, dear," Nesho said with exasperation. "We have cargo schedules to develop for the next few months and there are still some details concerning the properties we want to sell. This is just a short trip and I won't be needed. It makes sense for me to stay here as much as I'd like to go." "Well I don't think its safe here," Sosho fumed. "I think she should go with us. If it's such a short trip it won't matter if she's gone for that little time." "Nesho will be perfectly safe," Dent reiterated. For once Dent did feel comfortable leaving his senior wife in Harv'el while he made this short trip. Their household guard contingent had been doubled from six to twelve, each and every one of them bound by salidin. Additionally he had personally contracted for two Guild members to be her bodyguards for the time they were gone. Honestly, he thought she would be safer than they were. "If you say so, but I still don't like it," she pouted. In an abrupt change of subject she suddenly said, "And I want Clarise to come with us." "Huh?" Dent was startled by the request. "Ah, well, I suppose so. If Nesho doesn't need her here," he said slowly glancing over at the up-till-then silent girl. At first Dent was uncomfortable with Clarise's presence during what he considered family time, but he gradually became accustomed to it since the only time he saw Sosho without her was when they were in bed. It was like the two were attached at the hip. Sosho squealed, jumped up and clapped her hands. "Yes!" she shouted and then reached down, grabbed Clarise by the hand and yanked her to her feet. "Come on," she urged as she dragged Clarise towards the door, "we have packing to do!" Suddenly Clarise stopped in front of Dent nearly pulling Sosho off her feet. "Thank you, Master," She said look directly into his eyes. Dent looked for any subtle sarcasm or deceit but could fine neither in Clarise's open face. "No need to thank me, Clarise," he said. "We will be glad to have you along." "I won't disappoint you," then bobbing in a small curtsy she said, "Master, Mistress," and ran into the house with Sosho. "She's changed quite a bit," Nesho noted after they had gone. "And all for the better, I'd say." "I suppose so," he answered. "I just wonder if it's real or an act." "Just ask her. She can't lie to you." "I know," he sighed. "But if it is truly a change I don't want to hurt her feelings by doubting her to her face." "You are a sweet man," she said. Standing up she moved over and sat in his lap. For a few minutes they kissed as his hands roamed over her body. "Hmm," she moaned breaking away form him. "That's nice. By the way you'd better watch out for that one. I think someone has a new bed partner in mind for you." "What do you mean?" he said, shocked. "I haven't said more than a few words to her since our little discussion last month!" "I don't mean Clarise," Nesho said grinning at him. "I think that little vixen of a daughter has something like that in mind." "What? You've got to be kidding!" "Well I can't be sure but I wouldn't be surprised if she was looking to add to your harem. Now you can't tell me you aren't maybe just a little bit interested. She is very pretty, isn't she?" "I wouldn't lie and say I didn't notice that," he said with a sigh. "But I never even entertained the thought. Why would Sosho want to do something like that?" "I haven't talked to her yet so I don't know for sure but those two have become very close in the past few weeks. My guess is Sosho wouldn't mind having a little playtime with her new friend, the 'in the bed' kind of playtime." "That's, ah, very strange," he stuttered. "You don't think Sosho is one of those who like women more than men do you?" "Of course not, silly!" Nesho laughed at him. "When we're together has she ever done anything that would indicate she didn't prefer you?" "Well, no." "And she won't. She's young and the young like to experiment," she reached over and tickled him. "Like the time we tried..." "Yes, yes," he interrupted. "I get your meaning. But Clarise, in bed? I just don't' see it. "Just what do you think about it?" he said after a moment. "I mean she is your daughter and co-wife. You must be furious." "Not really," she said as she laid her head against his neck. "I suppose I should be getting angry and jealous..." "You have nothing to be jealous about," he said firmly. "I know that," she mumbled and starting to nibble. "Maybe that's why I'm not. I know she's young and pretty but I know you and I know what you feel for me. For some reason the thought of you having sex with her just doesn't bother me." "Wow, that's, ah, very interesting," he said. "If it were me and I thought about you with another man... Well, I can assure you it would bother me, a lot!" "Thank you," she said planting little kisses up and down his neck. "Maybe it's the bonding, or maybe I'm just a little perverted. I don't know, but the thought of you with someone else... it kind of excites me. It does when you're with Sosho, and I'm afraid it probably will if you're ever with Clarise or somebody else." "Right now Clarise or anybody else is the farthest thing from my mind," he said suddenly standing up with her in his arms. Carrying her he started walking into the house. "Right now there is only one person on my mind and she's about to find out how excited I am." "But it's far too early to go to bed," she murmured, running her fingers inside his shirt, gently scratching his chest. "You only hope we make it as far as the bed, woman," he said breathing heavily. They did make it to the bed but only just. Walking quickly he carried her up the stairs and towards their room. The two maids they met on the way giggled as they jumped out of the way. He strode into their room, kicked the door shut and gently laid her on the bed. The next few minutes were spent taking off each other's clothes. Hands were everywhere and getting in each other's way but neither seemed to mind. Finally they were both naked. Dent knelt above her just drinking in the sight as she sprawled beneath him, her long black hair spread out on the sheets. Nesho's eyes were only half open as she looked up at him, tongue licking ruby lips. She shuddered in anticipation as she reached up to pull him down on top of her. He supported himself on elbows and knees above her as he bent down to press his lips to hers. Hungrily they kissed, their tongues intertwined, her hands running up and down his body, his fingers grasping her hair, forcing her mouth tight to his. Nesho moaned as she reached between them and grasped his hard cock, moving her hand up and down the shaft and then rubbing the tip with her thumb spreading the drops of slippery pre-cum around the head as she did. He broke their kiss and she gave a small disappointed sigh. He started to move down her body, first by giving her neck small kisses and then on to the tops of her breasts. When she realized where he was heading, she grunted slightly and pulled him back up to her face." "Not now," she whispered hoarsely. "I want you in me, now!" "But..." "Now!" she hissed. Without arguing any further he placed himself between her legs so the head of his cock rested lightly on the slick lips of her cunt. Gazing into her eyes, he began to slowly push himself into her, his cock slowly disappearing inch by inch. She bit her lip and trembled as he entered. Finally a soft groan escaped as their groins pressed together and he was fully in her. "By the gods that's good," she moaned as he began his slow, deep thrusts into her. Their lovemaking was slow, controlled but intense. As he felt his release nearing he began to speed up his thrusts, encouraged by Nesho's vocal admonitions as she too neared her climax. They came together as well-practiced lovers often do and after a bit Dent rolled over to Nesho's side still keeping his arms locked around her in a tender embrace. Recovering they realized they were no longer alone in the room. Looking up, they saw Sosho standing by the open door with a smirk on her face. Standing just behind her was a stunned Clarise, looking like a deer facing a mountain lion that has suddenly appeared in front of her. Dent's first thought was to cover their nudity but he quickly pushed that aside. After all he was the master here; it was his house, his room. Surely, he reasoned, given their proclivity for having sex at odd times of the day, and the frequency, it was only a matter of time before Clarise would catch them in the act, so to say. Nesho seemed to be as blasé about their uninvited audience as he was. "A closed door means we'd like a little privacy," Nesho said without even a hint of anger. Sosho shrugged off the implied rebuke and said, "It's my room too. We came up here to pack; I didn't expect you to be fucking quite this early in the day." "You knew exactly what we were doing," Nesho responded, narrowing her eyes slightly. Again Sosho waved off the comment as a declaration of the obvious. Turning to her companion she said, "You see, I told you our master is not only a great warrior but a wonderful lover. We are never left unsatisfied, and he just goes on and on..." "Sosho!" Dent exclaimed. Now he was embarrassed. "I don't think this is appropriate..." "Of course it is," Sosho interrupted. Turning she pushed the door closed and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. "Clarise is now a part of our household and if for some reason Momma and I aren't available, she may be required to take care of your, ah, needs. She's a virgin, you see, so she needs to know what to do when the time comes." "Sosho," he said with exasperation. "I don't think..." "Of course not," she said interrupting him again. "That's what we're here for." Reaching over she grasped his by now flaccid member and began to slowly jack it. Dent was turning bright red with embarrassment but his other head seemed to have no problem with her ministrations and started to grow in her hand. "It seems small now," she said as casually as if discussing preparations for an upcoming dinner. "But give it a little attention and it grows on you," she finished with a smirk. "It-it's, huge!" Clarise gasped, her face blushing and turning paler at the same time, an interesting combination to say the least. "Sosho, this isn't the time," Nesho tried to sound stern but spoiled it by giggling. "Now, Mother," Sosho said, sounding like she was lecturing someone on the obvious, "you know that pretty soon we won't be able to take care of Dent, and we certainly don't want him to go outside the family, now do we?" She continued to slowly jack him until he was again at his full length. "Sosho, I, ah, don't, ah, need anyone..." Dent lost his train of thought as her soft hand drove his excitement to a high level. "Now, you can take care of him like Nesho did," she said to the wide-eyed Clarise. "Which is definitely a pleasure, but I like this way almost as much." Without saying anything else Sosho dropped her head down and engulfed his cock in her mouth receiving a loud gasp from both Clarise and Dent. Sucking on the spongy head and still jacking his shaft, it didn't take long until Dent was trembling and spurting into her mouth. Dutifully she sucked down his spending and then licked his now softening member clean. "There," she said patting her lips with a handkerchief she pulled from the pocket of the housedress. "He usually needs to come at least twice, sometimes three times, before he's really finished. That should hold him at least until tonight. I tell you, sometimes he wears the two of us out. It'll be nice to have someone else to help out." "Sosho," Dent gasped, "that's not why Clarise is with us..." "Oh, I know that," she said again waving him off. "But she's going to need this just as much as we do and who else is there to take care of the household? Certainly you wouldn't just give her away to be bred, would you?" "No, of course not. But..." "Well there you go. It's your responsibility to take care of your females, just as it's ours to take care of our man." Standing up she brushed her hands off and walked over to her still-dazed friend. "Come on. We can find somewhere else to pack for now. Let's get your things ready and leave them to rest for a while. Later I can show you what else we do for him, but that can wait for now..." Sosho's voice faded as she closed the doors behind them and moved on down the hallway. Dent just lay there stunned. He looked over at Nesho but she just grinned and shrugged her shoulders. ------- Chapter 28 Dent's attempts to clarify the Clarise situation with Sosho were met with what could only be described as total failure. He would explain to her that he neither desired nor was interested in another woman and that her actions in this regard were not appreciated. Mostly Sosho would sit still, listening intently and then completely ignore what he said. Nesho was no help. It wasn't as if she actively encouraged her daughter's actions, but she certainly didn't do anything to discourage them either. The only time she put her foot down was when Sosho wanted Clarise to sleep with them at night. Nesho informed her headstrong daughter that it was not yet appropriate and she couldn't be budged. Dent found that "yet" to be almost as bothersome as Sosho's more blatant actions. "Doesn't it bother you even a little bit, the thought of me being with another woman?" he asked Nesho again one day. Sosho's latest attempts hadn't been particularly aggressive -- well no more aggressive than she normally was -- but now she had enlisted another conspirator in her scheme, Clarise herself. It wasn't that Clarise was overtly trying to seduce him. In a way it was much more subtle, more sensual and quite a bit more effective. Around Dent she was the ideal picture of a docile, refined and totally feminine woman. She would smile nervously at him, brush up against him and touch him whenever she could. Her clothing couldn't be called provocative but the cut -- undoubtedly designed by the conspirator of the first part -- clearly showed her ripening young body to its best advantage. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Dent was affected; she could get him to start panting just by walking by. "I know you say it doesn't bother you, but how can it not?" he continued. Nesho looked up from the pile of tally sheets she was reviewing and looked at him seriously. "As I told you before," she said after a pause, "I know what you feel about Sosho and me, and I know that wouldn't change even if you were with Clarise." Nesho paused again and then grinned, "Besides, she makes you horny. You want her and I need to give you what you want." "She does not make me..." Dent's voice trailed off when Nesho raised her eyebrow. Not for the first time Dent reflected on the desirability of the salidin's ability that allowed his women to read his emotions even better than he could. "All right, fine," he sighed. "Maybe she does excite me, just a little, but so what? A lot of women do that to me. I am a man after all." "Not like she does," Nesho retorted. "You could have any woman in this household if you wanted, and some of them are very pretty. Yet none of them excite you like Clarise does. You're almost as attracted to her as you are to Sosho and me. I've gotten to know her over the past few weeks and she impresses me. Regardless of what we first saw of her she is a good girl. She desperately wants to be loved and to please. I think both she and Sosho have found a soulmate in each other. I can't say I expected it, but stranger things have happened. "Clarise sees what Sosho has and wants to be a part of it, and a big part of that life is you. That isn't to say she doesn't want you for yourself; I think she's head over heels in love with you just like we are, but it's even more pronounced because you are Sosho's world and Clarise wants to be a part of that world too. "She is young and is afraid of giving you her body like any young woman would be. But after watching us together a few times, especially you and Sosho, her desires are now overcoming those fears." "But I'm not sure I want her that way," Dent protested. Nesho gave him another look. "All right, maybe I do, but that doesn't mean I have to have it just because I want it. I'm still afraid of what something like that would do to what we three have together." "I know you are, dear," she said leaning over to caress his cheek. "But I can assure you it won't affect us a bit, certainly not in a bad way. Besides, soon it won't matter; you will have to do something. Either take her to bed or send her away. The first would make everyone happy; the second would make everyone miserable." "You're not helping this situation," he grumbled. "Actually I am," she laughed. "Just not the way you had hoped, or maybe I am, the way you privately hoped anyway." Finally their expedition to Safehaven was ready to go. Vel and the Grip had returned from their, thankfully, uneventful trip and brought with them three of the ex-slaver ships that were slated to begin conversion shortly. Dent decided it didn't make sense to wait until the Safehaven yards were up and running so their conversion was going to be done in Harv'el. With the materials and manpower they were taking to Safehaven it shouldn't take long to get the new yard up and running, but how long wasn't clear. Nesho bid them a tearful farewell on the dock before they boarded the Makro, her two hulking bodyguards giving Dent the all's clear signal. Dent doubted if anyone in his right mind would bother her given what happened to Garishnie, but her two Guild bodyguards would certainly take care of any that that had taken leave of their senses. Dent felt more than a pang of loss as they pulled away from the pier. Nesho's belly was very plainly showing her condition although she wouldn't be due for a few months yet. Their small convoy formed up outside the harbor breakwaters. Death Grip commanded by Vel of course; the Makro under another very able captain known by Vel for years and highly recommended; the Pinya, and the two already converted slavers. There was little expectation of problems in these local waters since the Thin Blade had been recalled to Malshall, but pirates were still a potential problem. The chances of them attempting a five-ship convoy were slim, especially since two of that number were obviously privateer or ex-naval vessels, but both Vel and Dent wanted this short voyage to be a practice run for later trips. Once they were well underway, Sosho and Clarise retired to the Owner's Suite, which would serve as Dent's stateroom while he was aboard. Very little modification had been necessary as the prior Malshallian captain seemed not have felt the urge to share the hardship that serving at sea often brought. The room was nearly twice the size of Vel's old stateroom and the bed big enough for four. Actually, more modification had been necessary in Vel's old cabin since, true to her word, Marie insisted on traveling with him. He tried to dissuade her -- rather weakly Dent thought -- with tales of how rough the crew could get while at sea and how difficult it would be on her as the lone woman. She laughed at him of course, and Dent had to silently agree with her. The thought of an agitated Marie, especially one backed by Vel, let alone the fact she was now protected by her salidin, well, Dent pitied the poor dumb son of a bitch that tried something. Dent was pretty sure that while the Death Grip may not have been the fastest ship on the seas nor the most feared, it was probably going to be the most polite and well behaved. For a while Dent hung out on deck enjoying the sea air and the slight roll of the ship as she made way through the gentle seas. The weather was practically perfect, the seas following and Dent was surprised at how much he enjoyed being underway. He had never considered himself to be much of a sailor but he found himself missing this during his time ashore. After spending some time with the new captain and the contingent of marines, he made his way back to the cabin for a little rest before the next meal. Dent opened the cabin door without knocking. He'd forgotten about Clarise and hadn't even thought about someone being in there. The sight that greeted him practically stopped his heart and seconds later started it beating strongly. Clarise and Sosho were both sitting on the bunk, both wearing one of his shirts, (what is it about women, he thought, that wearing men's shirts makes them even sexier than if they were nude?), hair unbound and legs demurely folded under them. The contrast between Sosho's long dark hair and Clarise's golden tresses merely highlighted the sensuality of the two. They had been talking and when he entered they stopped and both turned toward him and smiled. "Ah," he stumbled for words, "ah, sorry, I didn't know you were changing. I'll come back later." "We weren't changing, Master," Sosho said unfolding her legs and standing. Slowly she walked over to him her eyes locked with his. "We were waiting for you." "Waiting for me?" he almost squeaked. "Yes, waiting for you," she said with just a hint of a smile on her lips. "Why?" he blurted. "Because it is time Clarise became a woman," she answered. "Your woman." "Now Sosho..." he started. "Now, Master," she finished. "I don't think this is what we really want..." he tried again. "Am I your woman?" she interrupted. "Of course you are," he said indignantly. "And is Nesho?" "You know she is..." he sputtered. "Then what about Clarise?" Sosho asked. "She wears your collar, doesn't she?" "Well, yes, but it's not the same thing," he said looking over at the young woman. "Why not?" Sosho continued relentlessly. "Are you saving her for someone else? Is she to be your house slave with no joy, no happiness, no belonging?" "No, of course not!" he said defensively. "Then why won't you accept her? You want her and she wants you. You know that both Nesho and I want this. Why are you being so cruel?" "I, ah," he stopped suddenly and looked over at the girl in question. She was still sitting there as before but now she had her head bowed and was silently crying, large tears rolling down her cheeks and falling onto her lap. Without thinking Dent started towards her and Sosho moved quickly out of his way. When he paused momentarily she gave him a little shove and he continued over to sit on the bed next to Clarise. Her eyes were closed and she didn't acknowledge him as he lightly brushed his fingers on her cheek, rubbing the tears away. "Clarise?" he said softly. "Is this want you really want?" After a slight pause she nodded her head. "Are you really sure?" he asked again. "You know I don't love you like I do Nesho and Sosho." Clarise raised her head and looked at him, for a moment he could see the fire in her eyes that he had seen just weeks ago. "I don't want you to love me like you do Nesho and Sosho," she said bitterly. "I want you to love me like you would love me, Clarise." Leaning closer he whispered, "I don't want to force you to do something you don't want to do. It has to be what you want, not what Sosho wants, or even what Nesho wants." Moving surprising fast Clarise reached up and grabbed his head dragging him down to her waiting mouth. Her kiss was untutored but not at all tentative. Their lips parted and soon tongues were intertwined, dueling, probing into each other's mouths. Soon Clarise broke the kiss and lay back on the bunk. She never released her hold, but instead of grabbing him, now her hands rested on his cheeks as she look up at him, the longing and lust evident in her eyes. "I want you, my Master, more than anything I have ever wanted before," she said softly. "I want you to want me, to take me. I am yours, but now I want you to make me yours. Please!" she pleaded. Dent looked down at the golden-haired beauty beneath him and couldn't think of anything to say, so he bowed down and kissed her again, a slow, soft kiss that promised that she would be a part of him more than any words could have. Breaking the kiss he smiled and began to unbutton her shirt (his shirt?). As more of her creamy white flesh was exposed her breathing became harder and a little erratic. As he was doing this he felt another pair of hands working on his clothing, untying the lacings, unbuttoning his buttons. Finally the shirt was completely open and Clarise shimmied around and suddenly she was out of it and naked beneath him. She wiggled backwards until she was stretched out in the middle of the bunk exposed to his gaze. He stood to take off his boots and again found other hands undoing his belt and pushing down his trousers. Soon he was also naked and lay down on the bunk next to her. There was apprehension in her eyes, and lust. Again he bent to softly kiss her lips and she sighed. He moved from her lips and gently kissed down the side of her neck to the tops of her breasts where he spent a good amount of time licking and nipping at her very firm mounds. Finally he let one nipple slip into his mouth and he began to softly suckle. Her moaning was almost continuous as he spent time with one then the other very erect little nub. Her breasts were smaller than either Nesho's or Sosho's but firmer, a delightful couple of handfuls. She began to move under him slightly and Dent decided it was time to move on to even better things. Releasing her nipple he kissed lightly down her flat belly until he was lying between her outstretched legs. Her pubic hair was as light as the hair on her head and sparse. With its soft downy texture it was like she had nothing there, which excited Dent even more. The scent of a woman in heat wafted up as he gently parted her vaginal lips and gazed at the beautiful flower of her womanhood. Tentatively he stuck his tongue out and softly lapped the inside of her now-drenched portal. As he did her moans became louder and her hands, once gently resting on the sides of his head, now clenched his hair in a death grip. Some minutes passed as he pleasured his newest wife, finally shifting his attention to the small button resting at the top of her slit. As soon as his tongue touched her clit she screamed, forcing his face hard against her groin and trying to squeeze his head between her thighs. After a few seconds she suddenly relaxed, hands and thighs falling away from him as she let out a long and very heavy sigh. "By the gods," she whispered, eyes tightly closed. "Have I died? This is just too wonderful!" "It gets even better." Dent hadn't noticed but Sosho was kneeling next to the bunk, her eyes wide and bright. "You won't believe what comes next." She motioned Dent to move up and position himself, which he quickly did; soon his rock-hard cock was lightly brushing the outside of her vagina. "This will hurt a little at first," she cautioned her friend. "But soon you'll forget all that, I promise." Dent waited until Clarise looked up at him, his eyes questioning. She smiled and nodded, biting her lip slightly. Slowly he began to push forward and she groaned as his cock parted her lips and moved into her tight passage. Her eyes grew wider the further he entered; suddenly he felt resistance only an inch or so inside. Again he looked into her eyes, silently asking if she really wanted him to continue. After only a brief hesitation she nodded and spread her legs just a little farther apart. "Quickly, love," Sosho hissed. "It's better if you do it quickly." Taking her at her word Dent grunted and thrust forward, easily parting her protective membrane and sinking in another two inches. Clarise grimaced and trembled slightly but otherwise didn't react. Dent held still allowing her time to adjust to his size in her, until now, unused passage. Suddenly she sighed and pulled him down for a kiss while humping her hips toward him in little motions, driving herself onto him a little bit more with each thrust. Finally their groins were pressed firmly together and Clarise broke away from their kiss to stare up at him in wonder. He smiled down at her and began, very slowly, to move in and out using short, controlled thrusts. The first couple of times she grunted slightly, then she sighed which soon turned to a low moan. Within minutes she was shaking and moaning loudly. Her legs rose up off the bunk to cross behind his back and her hips moved to meet him as he began to move into her a little faster each time. "Yesss," she hissed as her fingernails dug into his back. "Fuck me! Fuck me now! Make me yours! Oh gods, this is so good! I never knew... I never guessed!" Spurred on by her by now very vocal approval, Dent began to lose his self control and started to fuck her hard. He slammed into the thrashing woman no longer worried, or caring, that she had been a virgin only minutes before. She was tight, and wet, and the muscles in her vagina grasped at him like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline. Soon, far too soon he thought, he could feel his balls tense up, preparing to send her his load of seed. Clarise could physically feel his cock grow larger inside her, something she was sure had to be impossible, but that wasn't all she felt. Something else, not really a physical feeling, but something that was coming from outside of her, was making itself known. A feeling of pressure, a need for release, was building up somewhere that caused, or merely exacerbated, the same feeling inside of her down in the pit of her stomach. This feeling was something entirely new to her; she was human so of course she had played with herself before, but it had never felt like this, never this strong. These feelings kept building, both hers and the others, until she was sure it would tear her apart. Suddenly there was a change in the pressure she was feeling to one of imminent release, and at the same time Dent thrust into and held himself deep within her. She felt the warm gush of his seed flooding her vagina but she was also sure she could feel it from his side, shooting into her! With that the pressure she had felt low in her stomach let go and a feeling of absolute pleasure surged through her body eclipsing everything else. Time seemed to stand still as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss rolled from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Later she would have sworn that she could feel the pleasure even in her hair. With each wave it grew larger and more intense, until finally everything went dark. "Looks like you did it again, oh Lord and Master." Clarise heard the sound of voices as she slowly regained her senses. The first thing she felt was the slight roll of the ship and then the two warm bodies lying on either side of her. "That's not funny, Sosho," came another, deeper, definitely male voice. "You know it near scares me to death every time it happens." "You should be used to it by now." This voice was definitely her friend, Sosho -- her only friend. "Where am I," she asked groggily. "What happened?" She turned towards her friend's voice and saw Sosho stretched out beside her, gently rubbing her arm. "Oh, you're finally awake," Sosho said cheerfully. "You're right here in bed where you belong. As for what happened, well, our loving master did a number on you, just like he does to us. Don't worry; nothing's wrong, you're perfectly all right. It happens to me all the time. When he cums in you, the pleasure is so intense you faint. It still happens to Nesho sometimes, but with me it happens almost every time. Isn't it wonderful?" "Wonderful? I've never felt anything like it! How do you survive?" Clarise looked over to her other side and found Dent propped up on his elbow, his eyes looked worried, but there was a smile on his face. When she looked into his eyes she suddenly felt the most intense feeling of belonging and love it brought tears to her eyes. She knew, really knew, that he loved her and that she not only belonged with him but to him. "Hello, Master," she said softly, and scooted over closer to him, nestling her face in his neck. "How do you feel?" he asked. "Are you sorry we did this?" "Never, Master," came the muffled reply. "Good. Neither am I," he said. "Clarise, you don't have to call me Master. My name is Dent." "Certainly, Master." He shook his head slightly and sighed. He could tell he was going to have about as much luck changing what she called him as he did breaking Nesho and Sosho of the habit. "So, was it everything I said it was?" Sosho asked her friend. Clarise extricated her face from Dent's neck, turned toward her and nodded. "And more," the blonde said with a solemn look. "You were right: It's not just a reason to live; it's the only reason to live. Now I know why you and Nesho are the way you are and I promise I will do everything I can to support you and our man." "Good," Sosho said with a grin. "What you can do right now is move your skinny ass out of my way. It's my turn now!" Sosho leaned over and the two girls kissed, not a particularly passionate kiss, but one that promised more than just friendship. Breaking the kiss Clarise scooted to the side while Sosho rolled over her and into Dent's arms. "That's fine," Clarise said with a grunt as one of Sosho's elbows glanced off her tit. "As much as I'd like to, I'm too sore to do anything right now anyway." "That goes away," Sosho moaned as she pushed Dent over onto his back and straddled his hips. She began rubbing her sopping cunt up and down his rapidly lengthening cock. "Thank the gods this doesn't!" she hissed as she impaled herself on his rock hard member. The convoy entered the small harbor led by the Makro, her captain being well acquainted with the tricky passage. In tribute to Dent's status as the new governor she came in flying all her signal flags in a colorful display. Dent, Sosho and Clarise stood at the rail as they pulled into their new home. Clarise was practically attached to his side, snuggling up next to him as tightly as she could. Sosho stood close by, her hand resting on his back. Earlier Clarise had asked Sosho about her newly awakened feeling for their man. "I can't bear not being with him," she said. "I get nervous and just don't feel right if I can't see him or touch him. Is this how you feel? Is it normal?" "For the most part," Sosho answered. "That's the way I felt at first -- still do -- but it's not so intense after awhile. You get used to it. If the feeling does get to be too much just think about him and you'll know where he is. It helps." Dent watched as the ship slowly made its way to the dock. A small crowd had already gathered with more people trickling in as the word spread of the arrival of the convoy. From the looks of it Dent estimated everyone in the town, and maybe on the island, would be there by the time they were ready to disembark. He wasn't sure how he felt about this whole business. His requesting this position had come to him on the spur of the moment that fateful day in the Putram's palace and even with the wholehearted support of his women and Vel he constantly had second thoughts as to the wisdom of his action. Why did he want it? What would he do with it and finally, could he do it? He had never governed anything or anybody, aside from being the lead student at the academy. Would the people of Safehaven even accept him? What if they didn't? These questions and more shifted through his mind even as his face remained passive and tightly controlled. "You'll do fine," Sosho whispered in his ear. She had felt his unease and drew closer to give what comfort she could. It did help; being sandwiched between two beautiful women didn't do anything to answer these potential questions, but he found with them at his side he didn't dwell on them. Clarise radiated sexuality and, for lack of a better word, adoration, and Sosho, well, she was just Sosho, as much a part of his soul and being as he himself was. With his family beside him -- and Clarise was now definitely a part of the family -- he couldn't worry overly much about less important things, such as governing a small island. Clarise was certainly being a distraction. Her soreness hadn't seemed to be a problem that morning. In fact she exhibited the demanding nature reminiscent of the old Clarise, but with an intriguing mixture of total submission and subservience. In other words she demanded he fuck her into submission, which he did. Of course Sosho couldn't remain uninvolved for long, so as soon as he was done with Clarise, Sosho was right in there licking him clean and getting him hard for the next round. More than a little bit of his placid exterior came from the fact he was flat worn out. His legs felt like rubber and he was sure it was nothing more than force of will that kept him from sliding down into a boneless pile on the deck. It felt good, really good. When the ship was finally alongside the pier, the gangway was quickly lowered and secured. Dent and the women made their way down to the brow ready to disembark. He wasn't wearing his armor today although he did have the mail shirt under his blouse. That, at least, had been insisted upon by all three of his women. The discussion on what he should wear for this first meeting had been protracted and loud, loud at least on Nesho and Sosho's part. Sosho wanted him to wear the full regalia of a Jeevelian noble. Dent wanted to go in his everyday armor, or maybe his dress uniform. Nesho as usual was far more pragmatic. "This is the first meeting with your people," she said. "It will establish the relationship you will have with them for a good part of the future. Are you going to establish a military dictatorship or a civilian government? Each one has its advantages and disadvantages, and of course we will support you whichever way you go. You have at least met these people, so you are the better judge of what is needed." "Well I certainly don't intend to establish military rule," he said as he sat back pondering what she'd said. "They've been pretty autonomous for a long time now so I'm not sure how much actual governing they really need. They might resist some foreigner coming in and imposing something on them. But they also seemed to be fairly peaceful, so how much they would resist is also a big question." "So instead of governing them maybe you should think about leading them. That's something you can certainly do," Nesho responded. Dent grunted, "Leading implies you're heading somewhere. So where are we going? Where are they going that they need to be led? To be honest this came to me as a way to keep you two and the babies as safe as possible. There was no other real destination in mind." "Maybe you should wait and let them tell you where they need to be led," Nesho said, pausing for a moment. "It may be they need only a light touch or none at all, but unless I'm terribly wrong if you deal with them honestly and fairly what they need from you will be obvious. So, if you don't plan a military occupation then you probably shouldn't meet them for the first time as a Warrior." "But they already know I'm a Warrior," he said stubbornly. "No," she said just as resolutely, "some of them met a Warrior off a ship that was in port for a short time. Yes, they may know you are a Warrior, but you want them to think of you as their governor who just happens to be a Warrior and not a Warrior who is also their governor. There is a difference, don't you agree?" "Since when have I ever ended up disagreeing with you?" he said with a sigh. "So it's agreed you don't want to show up there in armor," she said smugly. "The question is what should you wear?" "You see!" Sosho interjected. "He should be wearing the finest we can get hold of, dazzle them as he comes off the ship..." That Dent didn't agree with and Nesho didn't press for. Finally it was agreed that he would wear "normal" clothing, but of the finest quality. Nothing that marked him as a prima donna, but good enough to show the people of Safehaven their new governor was a man of substance. Dressed as a prosperous merchant might, the new Governor of Safehaven walked down the gangplank with two of the prettiest arm fobs ever seen in the town. It was not what the people of Safehaven expected. In fact nobody in the crowd thought twice that the well-dressed young man with the two pretty girls could possibly be their new governor: too young and not dressed like a Jeevelian noble or an army man. If they had been paying attention they might have noticed the squad of Southern Cross marines standing guard around him, eyes to the crowd and hands on the pommels of their swords. He would have been an interesting distraction, or at least the girls would have been, if their curiosity at seeing the symbol of civil government didn't supersede it. Two sets of eyes in the throng did see and recognized him. Slipping through the crowd young Filep Fisher and his companion in crime, Clem, ran up to Dent shouting his name. The marine closest to their intended track started to intercept the pair but Dent waved him off and they completed their short journey without interruption. "Warrior Dent!" Filep gasped. "We thought it was you standing there!" Suddenly realizing Dent wasn't alone he quickly bowed to Sosho and Clarise, his actions mirrored by Clem. "Mistress, Mistress. Warrior Dent, have you come with the new governor? It's said he's arriving today on this ship." "Well, then it's said correctly," Dent said fighting a grin. "He did arrive today and it was on this ship." "Oh will we see him? Do you know him? What's he like?" The questions came in such rapid succession and from both of their mouths that was impossible to answer even the simplest before another was asked. Dent just looked back and forth between the two waiting for them to slow down before he even tried to speak. Soon it was too much for Clarise and Sosho and they began to giggle, bringing their hands up to cover their mouths. As the giggling transformed into outright laughter the two boys finally took a good look at the girls and seeing their salidin suddenly stopped and stared open-mouthed. After a second or two Filep's lips started moving like he was trying to say something but it just couldn't come out. It was Clem that finally blurted "Witch's Collar!" and quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard him. Filep looked aghast at Clarise as if his friend had just said something terribly offensive and retribution would be quick in coming. But Clarise and Sosho just looked at each other with puzzled expressions and then as one turned back to the boys. "What do you mean 'Witch's Collar'?" Sosho asked. "Do you mean this?" as she touched her salidin. "He didn't mean nothing by it, Mistress," Filep said quickly, moving to interpose himself between Dent's small party and his obviously terrified friend. "We heard tales of them! Magic, they are! You ain't gonna turn us into toads are ya?" "Hmm," Clarise chimed in with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Maybe not toads, but I think sea imps are a possibility. That shouldn't require too much magic for you two." "Sea imps?" Sosho said picking up the spirit of the game. "Or how about garden trolls? We wouldn't even need to change their size." The two boys practically quivered with fear. "That's quite enough, you two," Dent said firmly. "You've had your fun, but now it's time to stop." Sosho gave him a fake pout while Clarise looked contrite, somewhat. Dent turned back to the boys smiling. "Gentlemen I would like you to meet my ladies. This is Sosho and this one is Clarise. While they may be charmers, I can assure you they aren't witches. The salidin, what you called 'Witch's Collars' has many, ah, interesting properties, but turning someone into something else isn't one of them." He looked over at Clarise and corrected himself, "At least not the way you were thinking." He grinned at the pretty blonde and she blushed, squeezing in closer to him. "Now, Sosho, Clarise: I would like to meet Filep and Clem, guides supreme. Sosho, do you remember me telling you about them? They were very helpful in finding the jeweler where I got your bracelet." Sosho happened to be wearing that same bracelet. Holding up her wrist she displayed the tiny chain bedecked with the highly polished volcanic glass. "If they helped you find this then I suppose they must be all right. I absolutely love it!" Their fear seemed to melt away replaced with a puffed up sense of pride. "They definitely were a help," Dent said. "And I think I'll need your help again, my fine young gentlemen. I need to find the person who's in charge here." "In charge?" Filep said with a puzzled look. "Yes, in charge. Runs the town. The headman" "Ain't nobody in charge that I can tell," Filep continued. "There must be someone," Dent said astonished. "There must be someone who makes the decisions around here. Maybe there isn't one person, maybe a group of village elders? When people have a problem or they need something, who do they go to?" "Oh, well, I guess that'd be Old Daniel," Filep said looking over at his companion. "You remember him, Warrior Sir. He's the one that sold you the pretties for the ladies." "Well that sounds like the best place to start," Dent mused. "I don't see him here in this crowd. Can you lead me to him?" "Yes Sir, we can," Filep nodded. "But he's waiting for the new governor to come off the ship; I don't think he'll be wanting to show you any other pretties just now." "Oh, I'm not looking for jewelry just now," Dent assured him, and then he looked down at Clarise. "Maybe later; I do have one more to buy for. But right now I need to speak to him about your new governor." "Sure, well then he be this way, Warrior Sir." And saying that the two boys turned and pushed their way back into the crowd, turning every few steps to insure Dent could follow them. Taking a girl in each hand Dent grinned, nodded and began to follow their guides. The crowd parted before them as they pushed forward. The people may have been waiting to see the new governor but barring that, the sight of a well-dressed man with two beautiful, salidin-bedecked women was enough of a novelty they were soon the center of attention as they walked along. The squad of soldiers following him just added to it. Soon they came to a small group of townspeople standing slightly apart from the rest of the crowd. He didn't recognize any of them except Daniel, the jeweler, but they were all older than a majority of the crowd and it wasn't much of a stretch to assume these were the unofficial leaders of the community. As Dent neared, Filep and Clem were tugging on Daniel's sleeve to get his attention. Daniel looked down at them with a slight frown but smiled when he looked up and saw Dent and the girls. "How do you do, Sir, Mistresses," he said. "If it's jewelry you're looking for I'm afraid were a little busy just now, but I'll be glad to help you later if that's all right with you." "Actually I will be looking for something later," Dent said. "But right now I needed to speak to you about the governor. Filep said you were the man in charge here, so you're the one I need to see." "Well, I don't know about being in charge," Daniel mused. "I suppose most people around here come to ask for my advice, and they generally take it. But we haven't had a governor here for a while and I can't say anyone is really in charge." "I understand," Dent said with a smile. "But you have one now and he'll need to talk to the town's leading citizens as soon as possible." "Do you work for him, young Sir?" Daniel asked. "Maybe you can point him out for us, or maybe tell us when he's planning to see us." "He sees you right now," Dent said. Then he decided he was being silly and enough was enough. "I'm Safehaven's new governor." Daniel's eyes widened and he sputtered for a bit, "But, but, you're so, ah, ah..." "Young?" Dent added helpfully. "Ah, yes, young," Daniel practically whispered. "Well, be that as it may, I assure you I am he," Dent said. "If you need it, the fancy papers granting it to me will be unloaded soon." "Oh, that won't be necessary," Daniel added hastily. "You don't need to convince us. It's unlikely anyone would, ah..." "Lie about something like this? I agree. It would be a bit silly," Dent said. "I would like to see you and whatever group of citizens that are interested alone for a few minutes, but right now I'd like to say a few words since we seem to have most everybody present." "Of course young Sir, I mean Your Excellency." Daniel turned to the crowd and shouted, "Listen up here! This is our new governor! His Excellency would like to address you!" He turned back to Dent and nodded. Dent saw a wood crate nearby and, releasing the girls' hands, he nimbly jumped on top of it. For a few moments he surveyed the crowd noting the almost universal stunned expressions on their faces. Even Filep and Clem were standing with their moths open looking dazed like a couple of poleaxed steers. "People of Safehaven," he said loudly, his voice carrying over the silent crowd. "I am your new Governor. My name is Dent, Dent deSiso, and I have been give the privilege, honor and responsibility of the protection and administration of this beautiful island. I understand you have been without a governor for a fair amount of time and alone you have done well, but together I believe we can do better. There will be changes, but these changes will be good for Safehaven. There are going to be new docks, new warehouses, and new people coming in. There is going to be more trade, more work, and more wealth. It will change the town as you know it, hopefully for the better. These changes may also bring problems -- change inevitably does -- but I promise to work with you to solve these problems as quickly and easily as possible." "I am proud to be here; in fact I requested this position." Dent didn't feel any need to go into the nasty little details of his appointment; they would probably come out by themselves anyway. "Not only did I request this position but I intend to move my entire family and household here as quickly as possible." A murmur quickly ran through the crowd. The Governorship of Safehaven had been considered a hardship post to most of the previous governors -- almost a punishment -- and never had one moved his household to the island. "In fact two of my household are here with me now. Sosho, Clarise, wave to the people, please." The girls did so while blushing, although they did at least keep from giggling. "We will be building a house and moving here permanently within the next few months." "I know many of you have questions, or will in the next few weeks. Right now I intend to meet with some of your leading citizens. Afterward I hope to have all your questions answered. Thank you for your attention. I know that together we will make Safehaven a place to be envied." With that last he waved, jumped down off the crate and walked over to the waiting elders. "Where would you like to meet with us, Your Excellency?" Daniel asked. "Anywhere would be fine," Dent answered. "If I might make a suggestion though, maybe we could move to the inn. I know I'm a bit thirsty and my ladies here could probably use something also. Later we could use a bite to eat." "Ah, that would be fine, Your Excellency," Daniel said. "It's a little informal, though." "You'll find I don't demand a great deal of formality," Dent responded. With that he linked arms with the girls and started up into town. Shortly after, they were all sitting around at the outdoor tables where Dent had previously taken his midday meal. After they had all settled in, Dent launched into a brief explanation of the building projects and the anticipated move of Southern Cross Shipping to Safehaven. "Most of you probably already know Captain Vel; he will be in with the Grip shortly. He will be able to give you more information as to what he will need. This will be a short trip for us, I'm afraid. I'm here to set up and start what needs to be done and then my ladies and I will return to Harv'el to begin the move. Sosho here is head of my household; she'll need to meet with some of you to discuss her needs." "Begging your pardon, Your Excellency," one of the group said. "But isn't she very young to be head of your house? And, well, isn't she a slave?" "I think I need to make a few things clear here at the very beginning," Dent said, trying not to get upset. Sosho reached over and patted his arm which helped. "I know Safehaven is technically a part of Jeevel and we will abide by their laws as we must, but there are a few things all of you here need to understand: Sosho, Clarise and Nesho, who is still in Harv'el, wear the salidin and are bonded to me, and by the laws of Jeevel are my slaves. But by the law only; to me they are my wives. My wives and the mothers of my children, and as such I demand they be treated with the respect due my wives." He paused for a moment before continuing. "You will find I differentiate very little between free and slave and will not tolerate the mistreatment of slaves at any time. I hope this will not be a problem, but if it is, it is a problem I intend to take care of in my own way." Silence greeted this last statement until someone cleared his throat and spoke up. "I don't think that will be a problem, Your Excellency. Maybe it's because we're somewhat isolated here and everybody growing up together, but we don't pay much attention to who's free or not ourselves." "Then I think we will get along just fine," Dent said nodding. "Now, I haven't said much about being the governor and before I go on does anyone have any questions about that? And please, you don't have to call me 'Your Excellency' all the time; Dent will do fine." "Certainly, Your Excellency," Dent mentally shook his head and sighed. It was Daniel and he continued, "Will you be trying criminals yourself?" "I suppose I will until we get something else set up," Dent said thoughtfully. "You say that like there is a need. Am I to assume you need a judge now?" "Yes, Your Excellency," Daniel said nodding. "We have someone now we don't know what to do with. We have had a man locked up in a storage shed for two weeks now, but we don't know what to do." "What is he charged with?" Dent asked. "Murder," Daniel replied. "Murder most foul." ------- Chapter 29 "Murder?" Dent said, shocked. "Murder," Daniel stated again nodding emphatically. "Boraic is his name and he killed his wife and two young children. Honestly, Your Excellency, we haven't had anything like this in all my years living here, which has been all my life. Small things we've been able to take care of: drunkenness, petty theft, even an occasional brawl. But this," he spread his arms in helplessness; "we don't know what to do. But now you're here ... Well, that is what you do, isn't it?" "I suppose so," Dent muttered, scratching his chin. With a sigh he straightened his shoulders and looked around at the people surrounding him. "It is best if this is taken care of as soon as possible. Tomorrow we will hold a trial. Is there a location where these things are usually handled?" "Well, the previous governors usually held them in their office," Daniel replied. "This office is large enough to hold that many people?" Dent asked incredulously. "They usually just had the accused and the constables," Daniel replied. "No witnesses? What about evidence, the victims?" "They didn't seem to think that was necessary," Daniel said simply. "Well I do," Dent stated flatly. "I want everyone even remotely involved with this business present and available. We shall do this in the village square, tomorrow at ten hundred. Let me know if anybody can't be there." "Certainly, Your Excellency," he said, head bobbing. "We will have it set up and ready for you." "Good," Dent said. "You mentioned constables. Who are they and when can I meet them?" "Well," Daniel said, scratching his chin, "we don't really have any right now. The Governor usually brings his own, and like I said we don't generally have need for them." "Fine, I'll set something up with my own guard," Dent replied. "We're going to have a lot more people coming in here over the next few months and its best if we have something in place. But that's enough for right now. I'm going to need to see where the Governor lives. I have a rather large family and I believe I'm going to want to build something a bit larger." Turning he saw Sosho and Clarise surrounded by a group of the village women. "I suppose we can wait until my ladies are done with whatever they have going on. In the meantime I'm going to need a couple of messengers with me while I'm here. Do you suppose that those boys, Filep and Clem, would be available?" "Certainly, Your Excellency," Daniel hesitated for just a moment. "But you realize that Clem is, well he's a..." "A slave? Yes I'm well aware of that. Is there a problem? I suppose I should ask his master and all that. Who is his master and where can I find him?" "Well, that's not a problem," Daniel said shaking his head. "Filep is my nephew's boy and Clem belongs to him also. It's just ... Well, it's a little unusual to use a slave in such an honored position." "You'll find I do things a bit differently," Dent said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Free or not, I tend to use who's best for the job and those two probably know where everything and everybody is in this town." "That they do," Daniel chuckled. "That and been into trouble everywhere around here also." "No doubt," Dent said with a smile. "When the Grip finally pulls in I know someone who will be especially glad to meet them." Turning again he noticed Sosho and Clarise making their way towards him. The crowd had dissipated somewhat but there were still about five of the village women walking with them. "Master!" Sosho said as she came up nest to him. "This just won't do! I have been talking with these good women and they tell me the so-called Governor's Mansion has been empty and is badly in need of repair. From what they said it's going to be far too small for us anyway." "I'd already guessed that," Dent replied. "We can have a look at it but I've already planned to build something more suitable. In fact I was hoping these good people would know a location that would meet our needs." Swiftly he outlined his requirements and immediately the villagers huddled together and shortly, with heads nodding, were leading Dent and his women to that very spot. It was perfect for what he wanted. It was a short distance out of town and up on a hillside that overlooked the harbor. Fresh water was readily available as was timber and an outcrop of volcanic rock suitable for building. It was very much the ideal location. "This is just want I wanted," Dent admitted. "Who do I see about purchasing the land?" "This is state land, Your Excellency," Daniel told him. "As governor it is yours to do with as you will. That's the reason nobody has built here already." "Then this is where we will build and where we will live," Dent said happily. Later that evening he showed one of the crew leaders the location and was assured construction would begin immediately. Having foreseen the need for a new house Dent had Nesho and Sosho draw up general plans for what they wanted; the rest would be up to the discretion of their builder; subject to Nesho's oversight of course. Everything required to get started was already on one of the ships waiting to be off-loaded. While one crew worked on the new docks, another would start on the warehouses and the third on his new home. Nothing would happen until all ships were unloaded, but that would take only a few days. In the meantime Dent determined the best place to stay was on the Makro. They had looked at the traditional governor's house; it wasn't big enough to be called a real mansion, and it was as rundown and small as they had been told. The only thing of value Dent found was an old text on Jeevel law. It wasn't very large. Jeevel didn't seem to codify its laws, instead relying on precedent, common law and, from what Dent could gather, the whim of the justice conducting the trial. Still it was better than nothing and it didn't take him long to read through the entire volume. More than once Dent wished for his senior wife and her cool analytical way of looking at problems. He was fairly confident in his ability to perform acceptably, but it would have been nice to have her to lean on nonetheless. After retiring for the evening Dent was unsurprised to find the long day hadn't tired his two ladies al all. In fact their demands for his attention kept him up late into the night. At least he had no time to worry about the trial the next morning. It was a bright, clear morning and Dent was happy to see Daniel and the villagers had set up an acceptable court in the common square overnight. There was one large table covered in a somber, dark cloth, which was obviously where he was to be, and another slightly raised platform. He assumed that was for the accused. It was a simple setting but Dent had no problem with simplicity. This was for the administration of justice, not a statement of his power or position. Striding up to the table Dent tried to display more confidence than he really felt. Turning, he scanned the crowd. He wouldn't have been surprised if every person living on the island was there looking back at him with anticipation. Setting the law book on the table in front of him, he sat down in the chair being held for him by one of the village men. Sosho and Clarise had been following and were motioned to two chairs directly behind him. Dent had debated whether or not to allow them to attend the trial, but Sosho determinedly convinced him their place was with him regardless of what happened. Reluctantly he agreed and by the looks of it, either she had contacted one of the village elders or they had also made the assumption the girls were going to accompany him. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, he wondered just how much control he really had over his women. Turning to Daniel standing by the side of the table he said loudly, "Are the accused, witnesses and all other relevant persons present?" Daniel said yes and Dent then said, "Then I now declare this court to be in session. Bring forth the accused." The crowd parted and four burly villagers led a filthy, ragged man into the square and up onto the platform. He was chained, manacles on both wrists and ankles, but even restrained he looked at Dent with defiance and hatred. "Who the hell are you?" he shouted almost as soon as he was set up there. "You have no fucking right to judge me! I owned that bitch and those two little bastards. I'm the man of the house and I can do whatever I fucking want with them!" Impassively Dent waited as the prisoner vented about how he was being wronged, he had his rights and nobody here could do anything about it. Dent finally waved his hand curtly and the prisoner's diatribe slowly trickled to a stony silence. Picking up a piece of paper that had been tucked into the middle of the book, Dent started reading. He read verbatim the words written but his eyes never once left the eyes of the accused. "Boraic, you stand accused of the murder of your wife, Senick, your daughter, Mensi, aged 3 seasons and the infant boy, Rollef. How do you plead." "What?" Boraic said, obviously confused. "How do you plead?" Dent repeated. Seeing the man didn't understand he tried a different tack. "Are you guilty or not guilty? Did you do what you are accused of?" "Eh? You mean kill them?" Boraic said. "Damn right I did! The bitch deserved it, and so did the two little bastards. Probably weren't mine, anyway!" "You admit to killing them and yet you say you aren't guilty," Dent sat back astonished. "How do you figure that?" "Why it's simple, Mister High and Mighty," Boraic said with a sneer. "Murder is when you kill a person illegally. Since it was only my bitch and her two brats, it don't count as persons and anyway since they belong to me I can do anything I want with them. That bitch was fucking someone else, and when I catch that bastard I'm going to kill him too." "You have proof of her infidelity?" Dent asked. Sosho leaned over his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Does it really matter if she was? Does that warrant a death sentence?" "No," Dent whispered back. "But I want to hear everything about this case, even if it seems irrelevant." Mollified, Sosho leaned back in her seat. Turning back to the prisoner, Dent looked at him expectantly. "Well, she said she wasn't," Boraic answered slowly. "But I know she was. Don't matter; the bitch was mine." "Your wife was a slave then?" Dent asked. One of the only areas of Jeevelian law that was clear was in the dealings with slaves. Slaves were property, period. An owner could in fact do anything he or she wanted with them, anything. "Well, she didn't have no tattoo, if that's what you mean," Boraic seemed to realize this was a flaw in his defense, possibly a fatal flaw and was determined to hedge around it as best he could. "I paid her dad good money for her; by all rights that means she was mine." "Master Daniel," Dent said turning to the older man. "You have the tax rolls here as I asked? Good. Then would you please tell me if the slave tax was ever paid for this woman, Senick, or her children for that matter." Daniel spent a few moments searching through the large ledger book placed on a smaller table off to the side of Dent's. After rustling through the pages he looked up and shook his head, no. "Since no tax had been paid, nor the slave registered as required, it is my opinion that the woman, Senick, and her two children were free citizens of Jeevel at the time of their death," Dent stated emotionlessly. "Whether you paid dowry for her hand in marriage is irrelevant. Now I would like to hear from any here any information that may be pertinent to the case before me. This would include what happened that day and facts regarding the character of the accused." For the next two hours Dent heard a stream of witnesses talk about how they had found Boraic, dead drunk, in the street one afternoon covered in blood. When they investigated they found his wife and the children dead in their house, the wife with multiple stab wounds and the children with their throats cut. Boraic must not have been well-liked since to a man the witnesses described him as cruel, lazy and a drunkard. No one had anything good to say about him. After taking a short recess during which Dent stood off to the side by himself, he finally squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and strode back to the table. "After considering all the evidence," he said slowly and clearly. "I have come to the following conclusion: The woman, Senick, and her two children were murdered and the person committing this crime was in fact the man standing before us, one Boraic of Safehaven." "Boraic, I find you guilty and hereby sentence you to death, the sentence to be carried out immediately." Looking over at the four men who had escorted Boraic in, he ordered them to take the condemned prisoner to a secluded spot behind the nearest warehouse. Standing, Dent again said loudly, "While I believe a trial is in the interest of the public, executions are not. These four men and my guards will be witnesses, but no others. This trial is over. Return to your own business." The crowd started to disperse as Dent stood, the murmurings seeming to be of relief and approval. The head of Dent's guards came over to stand next to him. "You want I should dispatch the prisoner, sir?" he asked. "No," Dent replied. "I condemned him; I will do my own dirty work. I appreciate your offer but if I am wrong then I will be the only one responsible." "Ain't no being wrong here, sir. This one's as bad a one as I've ever seen, and I've seen plenty." As they turned to follow the prisoner, Sosho and Clarise rose and started to follow him. "There is no reason for you two to see this," he said to them. "I want you to return to the ship. I will be back there shortly." "No, Master," Sosho said defiantly. "We should be with you." "Go back to the ship now," Dent said sharply. For the first time that she could remember, as she started to reply she felt a tingle from her salidin and she literally couldn't say anything. As if she had no control, her body turned and started moving toward the docks and the moored ships. Her eyes blazed with anger but she had no control over her actions. As they passed, Clarise looked over to him and nodded with a smile letting him know she at least appreciated his sparing them the sight. Dent sighed as he watched them stride down the road. The guard leader chuckled and said, "That one isn't very happy with you, sir." "She'll get over it," Dent replied. "She always does." When Dent and his guards rounded the corner of the warehouse they found the prisoner struggling with his four escorts beseeching them to let him go. Dent strode up to within a pace of the man. "Boraic," Dent started. "It is customary to allow the condemned a few last words. Is there anything you would like to say?" "Fuck you, you bastard!" Boraic screamed. "You can't do this to me, not over a bitch!" "Not very inspiring last words," Dent huffed, "but probably fitting for you. Put him on his knees." One of the guards grabbed Boraic's shirt collar and kicked him behind the knees, driving him to the ground. He and the rest of the guards and escorts then moved back leaving the prisoner on his knees, head up, cursing defiantly. Moving so quickly that the four Safehaven men would later swear they never even saw him move, Dent drew his sword and struck Boraic squarely across the neck severing the head from the body in one stroke. The head rolled on the ground in front of the still upright body, eyelids fluttering and mouth moving as if gasping for breath. For what seemed like minutes but was in reality only a second or two, the headless corpse remained upright and then slowly toppled to the side. Bending down to wipe the blood from his weapon on the dead man's shirt, Dent said, "Dispose of this body as you normally would." "Thank you, Your Excellency," one of the Safehaven men whispered. "It will be done." Without saying another word Dent nodded and with his guards left to return to his ship. ------- It took almost a ten-day before all the ships were unloaded and the work on the docks, warehouses and the house well begun. Seeing everything was going well Dent and his convoy, less the Grip, returned to Harv'el. Sosho spent the first few days after the execution in what could only be called a major snit until Clarise finally pulled her aside and described in detail the time she witnessed one of her father's guards killing a slave at her father's order. After hearing about the blood, gore and feces released by the dying body Sosho realized the favor Dent had done them. It didn't hurt when Clarise described the weeks of nightmares that kept her up after seeing the gruesome sight. Dent never liked it when his pretty cousin was angry with him but he never regretted not letting her witness the brutal, and yet necessary, act. By the time they reached Harv'el, Sosho was her normal self but Clarise was a nervous wreck. She confided to Dent the night before they pulled in that she was more afraid of how Nesho would react to her entry into their relationship than she was about the first day he took her. No matter how much he or Sosho reassured her that everything would be fine she never really relaxed until Nesho met them on the docks and drew her into a loving embrace. Although he never mentioned it, Dent was somewhat anxious about his senior wife's reaction until she gave him a knowing smile and a little wink as she welcomed the girl. That night was interesting as Dent and Nesho got reacquainted with each other's bodies, Dent found her bulging belly incredibly sexy,. The two younger girls spent their time getting to know each other. On their trip there had been a fair amount of touching, fondling and even some outright petting, but for the most part they -- Clarise particularly -- had concentrated on Dent. Now with Nesho monopolizing him on their first night back the two felt free to concentrate on each other. The contrast of golden and sable hair in addition to the intertwining of two young, lithe bodies was enough to keep Dent excited well into the night, as if Nesho's own voluptuous form wasn't enough. Little had changed in Harv'el during his short trip. Rumors said the Putram had been seen outside his rooms more often lately which worried Dent somewhat. He wondered if the First Councilor's control of the unstable monarch was slipping, but as of yet no direct threat had been noted. It was also said that treaty negotiations with the Malshall Ambassador were ongoing and there was a marked increase in the number of Malshallian vessels visiting the port, some for trade but the rest on business known only to themselves. The next few months were busy ones and seemed to go by very quickly for Dent. Nesho grew bigger and bigger, although her increased girth didn't seem to slow her down in the least. Sosho began showing although as yet it was little more than a rounding of her belly and an increase in the size of her breasts. She kept busy with the domestic staff, planning and packing for the eventual move to Safehaven. At first, Dent split his time between Harv'el and Safehaven. Two weeks here and then two weeks there, but it soon became evident that his time in Harv'el was largely wasted and he began spending more and more time in Safehaven. The divestment of properties and businesses in Harv'el were all but complete after his first month back so all three women traveled with him nearly every time. Nesho absolutely loved Safehaven from the minute she left the ship and was ecstatic over the placement of their new house. "This is absolutely wonderful," she cried, twirling around in the unfinished atrium on the new mansion. "I thought you might like it," grinned Dent as Nesho danced into his waiting arms. "It couldn't be better," she gushed. "From here we will be able to see everything: the harbor, the sea, the town, even the mountain behind us. Oh Dent, this is so much more than we ever dreamed about. To think! From that tiny little room in Salas to this! It couldn't be more perfect!" She stretched up to give him a kiss. "Well, I can think of a few things I'd like to change," Dent said, caressing the salidin around her neck. "Oh pooh!" she exclaimed, giving him a fake pout and lightly slapping him on the chest. "Don't you know this is my wedding band, you big fool. Every day it reminds me that I'm yours, that I belong with you and to you." "Yes, you do," he said softly, "but we don't need that thing to tell us. I assure you I'll never let you forget it." Nesho laughed and patted her bulging stomach. "If you don't, this little fellow certainly will. I'm glad the residence wing is almost done. It should be just in time." "It's not time already, is it?" he asked worriedly placing his own hand next to hers just in time to feel the baby kicking. "I don't know if I'm ready for this," he added with a sigh. "You'll be ready," Nesho said firmly. "Don't you worry, I've been through this already. I know you are going be the best daddy ever. All it takes is a little practice and you're going to have plenty of practice soon. With three women working on it you'll be knee deep in babies before you know it." "Three?" Dent gasped. "Ah, Clarise isn't, ah, you know... ?" "Not yet, that I know of anyway," Nesho smirked. "But you haven't been ignoring her in your attentions, so I'd expect it won't be long." "Well, I guess what happens, happens," Dent said with a shrug. "Where are those two anyway? I haven't seen them all day." "Some meeting with a group of the village women," Nesho answered. "Something about bringing a doctor to the island and schools for the youngsters. She's become quite good at managing our household as I'm sure you've noticed and with the house not yet complete I think she's taken to running the village in its stead. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't appoint her as headwoman or some such nonsense." "That would be something," Dent whistled. "How about that: a slave becoming headwoman. That should turn some heads." "Thanks to you, the line between slave and free is becoming somewhat blurry around here," Nesho said grabbing his hand as they both started walking back towards the almost-completed residence wing. "It's amazing, for as young as she is, the village people have taken to her like they would a southern princess. They adore her, and she gives it right back. In fact, with Sosho spending so much time down there Clarise has been tending to more of the chores around here. She just may end up running the house while Sosho spends her time in the village." "How is the rest of the, ah, staff, taking that?" he asked. "Very well actually," Nesho said. "She's been a changed woman since you put your collar on her, and since you put your dick in her it's been even more pronounced. If the collar didn't do it, that big old wife-tamer of yours did." Dent sputtered and turned red but couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't make it even worse. Quickly changing the subject Dent led Nesho out of the partly completed atrium. "Maybe we should take a short walk down to the village and see how our young politician is doing." Over the next month or so, the look of the waterfront changed considerably from a sleepy little fishing village to a bustling, moderately busy trading port. Southern Cross Shipping had finally moved its base of operations to Safehaven and made it its major transshipment point. The only commodities not shipped through Safehaven were slaves. Vel grumbled slightly since slaves were a high-profit item but his mutterings were mainly for show. He still dabbled in that trade, but only through Harv'el and by mutual agreement neither he nor Dent talked about that aspect of his business. A considerable amount of goods were coming from the mysterious southern lands, and not just salidin. O'Tech Technicians set up their own Guild house in Safehaven and there was a constant flow of people and artifacts both to and from the south. In an unusual move the Warriors Guild also established a Hall there and was discussing the possibility of starting a new school based primarily on the Salas model. The prospect thrilled Dent but the exponential growth of the village also had him a little worried. The population of the island seemed to double almost overnight and with it their problems. Trade meant ships; ships meant sailors and with them the more dubious aspects of port life. Brothels, taverns, and inns came along with the trading companies and merchants. A full company of Dent's personal guard was detached to provide for police protection in the village since there hadn't been enough time to build a competent constabulary yet. For ex-military they were surprisingly fair and evenhanded and it soon became quite clear that causing trouble in Safehaven resulted in a quick call to the guard and an even quicker knock to the head from an iron-sheathed staff. Dent appointed old Daniel as magistrate to act in his place for minor matters and Safehaven soon became as peaceful as its name. Merchants soon learned the benefits of an environment where all due taxes were expected to be paid promptly but graft and corruption were dealt with harshly. Attempts at bribing customs officials ended abruptly with the confiscation of the first ship whose master tried it. Dent's few customs officers, some of whom had over the years become used to earning half of their living through such bribes, suddenly found religion after one of their fellows found himself locked in stocks in the public square for a full ten-day and banished from the island along with his family. The merchants soon found that paying the required fees and taxes weren't any more onerous than the bribes they were accustomed to paying; at least it took the uncertainty out of the transaction. Before, the bribes varied widely depending on the official and the day. They still grumbled but did it quietly. Quite frankly, the job of Governor was very much to Dent's liking. The hours were short and not overly taxing. He was able to spent time in practice at the new Guild Hall and still be home as much as he wanted. The only part that still bothered him was when something came up that the magistrate couldn't, or wouldn't, handle. The guards and the new constabulary kept a firm lid on most crime, but when dealing with human beings eliminating it all was impossible. One day he received a request for an audience (their word; he never felt comfortable using it) from Daniel the Magistrate, as the Magistrate. Dent knew what that meant. Something had happened grievous enough that the Governor himself would be required to adjudicate. Dent hoped it would be just another contract dispute or maybe a squabble over land or fishing rights. Daniel often felt he wasn't qualified in these cases, or was possibly too closely related to the principals involved. So it was with only mild trepidation that he invited Daniel to sit down after one of the house servants showed him in. "Good day, Daniel," he started. "How have you been?" "Very well, Your Excellency," Daniel replied. Dent could tell he was very uncomfortable. Dent's anxiety moved up a notch. "That's good to hear," Dent said somewhat more slowly. "I am going to assume that since you asked to see me as the magistrate, this isn't just a friendly call. My guess you have something unpleasant and I'm about to get it." "Damn right you are," Daniel said with a snort. "You couldn't pay me enough to handle this one." "Great," Dent said with a sigh. "You want to tell me about it?" "Not much to tell about the crime itself," Daniel said. "A slave killed her master. Bludgeoned him to death in his sleep. She admits she did it and says she'd do it again. Pretty much an open and shut case." "It may be," Dent replied. "But why did she do it? What are the facts behind it? Maybe she had a good reason." "Oh I expect she did," Daniel said pursing his lips. "It was Mongue, one of the new merchants from Harv'el. Ran a dry-goods business there and was here setting up a branch with a local factor. From everything I've heard about him he probably deserved to die many times over. They say he was a cruel, vicious bastard who beat and sometimes killed his slaves. The problem is none of that matters. Jeevelian law is very clear on this matter: If a slave raises a hand to his or her master the punishment is death, no alternative." "So why do you need me?" Dent asked. "Because I'm not sentencing anyone to death," Daniel retorted. "I'm not the governor, you are. That's your job. Especially in a case like this where it may be the law but it certainly isn't justice. Besides I know if you did it, everything would be done right, not botched and have the poor wench dying by the halves." Daniel looked at Dent, daring him to refute what he said. "You're right, of course," Dent agreed with another sigh. "It is my job, the responsibility that comes with the position and privilege. Very well, best it be done as soon as possible. Should we set something up in the square like we did last time?" "I don't think that will be necessary Your Excellency. This is nasty business and the whole town needn't be involved. I would say you could do it in your office here, but then I don't know where you'd do the ... ah ... you know..." "No, we won't have it here," Dent said firmly. "You have been holding your hearings in the old governor's house haven't you?" Daniel nodded. "Then we'll have it there at midday, the day after tomorrow. We will make an announcement and anyone who wants to watch can; these things should be public. I assume the prisoner and any witnesses will be ready?" "Certainly, Your Excellency. You know that since this is just a slave, you don't even need a trial don't you?" "I suppose," said Dent. "But I want one anyway. A trial is still the best way to bring out the facts. I want everybody to know that justice is done, whether it be for freeman or slave." "But the sentence is mandated by law," Daniel said slightly puzzled. "That may be," Dent said. "But it will be done under the law and that means a trial." All three of the women insisted on being at the trial even though they knew it would most probably result in an execution that they wouldn't be allowed to view. Even Nesho was told in no uncertain terms she wouldn't be allowed to view it, a restriction she was happy to comply with. "I still don't see why you three feel you have to be here," Dent said to Nesho as they walked into what was now the village's courthouse. Sosho and Clarise followed close behind. "We know how difficult this is for you," she said. "We want -- no! -- need, to be there for you." "I appreciate it of course," he said giving her arm a gentle squeeze, "but this isn't going to be pleasant." As they entered, Dent saw that a wall had been knocked out between the former dining area and sitting room leaving a respectably large area. A large table covered in a rich-looking purple cloth had been placed at one end sitting up on a raised platform, obviously where the magistrate normally sat. In the center of the room was another slightly raised square platform. Dent assumed that was for the accused or petitioner. Chairs lined the walls and were filled with villagers, mostly women, Dent noted. Daniel was standing next to the table and indicated Dent should have a seat in the chair provided. Nesho and the girls were motioned to three empty chairs against the wall behind the platform. "I'm ready, Magistrate," Dent said to Daniel. "You may proceed." "Certainly, Your Excellency," Daniel replied and then turned toward the doorway in the back of the room. "Bring in the prisoner." In through the door strode a woman flanked by two guards. Dent practically gasped when he saw her; she was beautiful! Long flowing hair the color of burnished copper fell down over her shoulders. Fair skin the color of cream and a face that was both delicate and yet strong, a beguiling dichotomy to say the least. Her slave tattoo was that of a colorful flower arrangement; there were a number of different designs meaning she probably had had a number of different owners. She must have been somewhere in her mid-twenties and moved surely with grace and poise he hadn't expected, or would have except for a pronounced limp. As she drew closer and took her place on the platform in the middle of the room Dent could see her eyes were a vibrant sea green. It was easy for him to see this since she was staring at him as defiantly as a badger standing up to a bear. He could practically feel the hate roll off of her toward him. He was surprised she wasn't snarling. "Your Excellency," Daniel began, "before you stands Shasta torMongue, accused in the murder of her rightful master Blein deMongue." "You have heard the charges, Shasta torMongue," Dent said with a nod. "What do you say about them? Is this true?" "Yes it's true!" she said, and this time she did snarl. "I killed the bastard! I took the poker and beat him until his brains spilled out on his fancy pillows." "You realize that by admitting this you condemn yourself to death?" "I was already dead and in hell," she said with a snort. "All you can do to me is kill this body. He needed to die, deserved to die. At least now he won't be able to hurt anyone else." "Tell me why you believed he deserved to die," Dent said as he settled back more comfortably into his chair. Shasta blinked once in astonishment. She hadn't expected to have anyone ask, let alone listen to her story. In fact she hadn't expected a trial at all. What she had expected was to be dragged outside and receive a sword through the gut or a rope around her neck as soon as the body was found. And yet here was this young noble asking her why she did it. Very well, she thought, I'll tell you exactly why I did it, my fine young flit. "I am Shasta from Gorinth, a small island near Salas. When I was thirteen seasons old my village was raided by slavers. My father and two little brothers were killed and I and my mother taken. I was raped of course; we both were, right there in front of each other and what remained of my village. Eventually I was sold at the slave market in Harv'el. I never saw or heard of my mother after that. I have had a number of masters, some better than others but each of them used me as they would a piece of furniture. I know this is accepted and expected by you barbarians." "Hold your tongue, slave," Daniel growled. "Show His Excellency the Governor the respect he is due." "Ha, the respect he is due?" she barked. "I am giving him the respect he's due." "You know nothing of him nor what he has done for us..." Sosho shouted, jumping up from her chair. She cut off her exclamation when Dent raised his hand and gently waved her down. "Or he'll do what? Have me put to death?" Shasta laughed. "Oh I know who you are: one of his trained bitches, collared and cowed. I may be about to die but at least I'll do so as a real woman." "That's enough," Dent said softly. "Please continue. I believe you were going to tell us why this man deserved to die?" Again Shasta stopped short and swallowed the next insult she was about to hurl at Sosho. She looked at Dent again seemingly puzzled, as if seeing him for the first time. When she continued again it was with a slower, more moderate tone. "About half a season ago my former master sold me to Mongue. I'd thought I'd lived in hell before but that was nothing to what I was now in. He enjoyed pain and hurting others. I have been beaten every day, tied up and, well, you wouldn't believe to what uses he put me. I could show you the bruises, the cuts and the scars, but what does that matter? I know the law and what will be done to me, and I accept it. There were three girls with me during my time with that monster and each of them was killed, slowly and horribly. I won't beg for mercy, but I will ask for the favor of a quick death." As she stood there all expression left her face and her shoulders slumped in resignation. "It isn't fair," Dent heard from behind. He turned slightly toward Clarise; it had been her voice he had heard. "Well, it isn't," she said looking at him almost defiantly. "If any of us had to endure what she had to I know what you would have told us to do." "That's true," Dent said. "But the law is very clear on this matter." "Isn't there something you can do?" That was Sosho asking. She had the same pained expression that Nesho and Clarise were wearing. "Hmm, let me think a moment." Dent turned back to look at the girl standing before him. She was resigned to her own death. It was obvious and it pained Dent the part he was required to play. Suddenly he had a thought. Quickly looking through the old book of laws he kept with him when he had to play judge, he found the requisite passage and read it again very carefully. His lips curled up in a very small smile and he turned around again and looked at Nesho. "Say there was some way for her to live through this," he said looking directly at his senior wife. "Would you feel comfortable having her in our household?" "What sort of thoughts have you running through that mind of yours?" Nesho said almost to herself. She looked over at Shasta, studying her for a moment. Then nodding her head she turned back to Dent. "With a salidin, yes, I could accept her." Dent nodded and then stood up. "I have reached my decision," he said loudly. "My personal views on slavery are well known and I have never tried to keep them secret. However in a case such as this the law is very clear and as Jeevel's representative I have no choice but to follow that law to the letter." There were groans from the audience and a muffled sob or two from behind him; the sympathy in the room definitely wasn't for the late Mongue. "The facts in this matter are clear: The slave Shasta did indeed kill her master. The punishment for this crime is unambiguous and irrefutable: the slave Shasta is hereby condemned to death." The groaning in the room was even louder inter-dispersed with some soft crying. Dent cleared his throat and spoke even louder. "The law is also very clear that the sentence is to be carried out at a time and place to be determined by the officer presiding. As such I will hold the execution in abeyance until such time as I determine it to be appropriate. The prisoner shall be remanded to the Governor's household immediately to await my pleasure in the matter." The room suddenly became utterly silent as the true meaning of his words sunk in. Dent had indeed followed the law: Shasta was condemned to die, but the time and manner of her death was his alone to determine. He could have her killed today, next week, or never. In that manner she was no different than any other slave in Jeevel. A small cheer started from the crowd as Shasta looked at him slack-jawed. Dent looked around the room sternly and the cheering subsided quickly. Turning to Clem, who happened to be his runner for the day, he said, "I want you to go to the O'Tech house. Tell the technician on duty I want somebody at the governor's mansion this afternoon as soon as possible. I want a salidin fitted." The words were barely out of his mouth when Clem took off at a dead run. "I'm sure you know what you're doing, Your Excellency," Daniel said from beside him. "This will make the common people happy but I'm sure it won't go down well with the major slaveholders." "They can take that up with me in person if they wish," Dent said, shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe they can learn to treat their people a little better. Besides if they are that afraid of their servants they can have them fitted with salidin. I know someone who would be more than happy to accommodate them in that regard." Daniel nodded slowly, but he smiled as he did it. Without warning he was practically tackled by a lithe blonde who was doing her best to cover him with kisses, followed momentarily by a somewhat shorter brunette who had been slowed down by her advanced pregnancy. Nesho came up last and although she couldn't get to him because of the other two, she gave him one of her patented "you are so getting laid tonight" smiles. Gladly accepting their adoration for a few minutes, Dent finally put an arm around both and drew them away from his face and into his sides. Turning slightly, he faced Shasta. She was looking at them like a mouse waiting for the snake to strike. "Can I trust you to come with us without any trouble or do we need to keep the manacles on?" "No trouble," she whispered. "I ... I ... Thank you, Your Excellency." "Good," he said with a nod. Turning to her guards he continued, "Take off the chains. They won't be needed now." "Are you sure, Your Excellency," one asked. "She may still try to run." "Run where?" Dent answered. "We're on an island. Where could she run to?" They unlocked the manacles and as soon as she was free Shasta stepped down off the platform and dropped to her knees in front of him. "Oh get up," Dent said with exasperation. "Our master doesn't require his bitches to kneel for him," Sosho said snidely. Now that the possibility of immediate execution was past, she had no problem addressing past insults. "I'll kneel for you, Master," Clarise whispered as she reached up to nip his earlobe with her teeth. Dent did his best to ignore her. "I am so sorry," Shasta said. "I thought ... I mean ... I thought I knew ... Oh please forgive me!" "Hmph," Sosho grunted. "We'll see. After you get fitted, maybe you'll find you enjoy being his collared bitch." "Sosho!" Nesho said warning her daughter. "That will be enough of that. What's done is done. Given the circumstances, I think we can forget words said in anger and fear." "Yes, I suppose you're right," Sosho said with a sigh. But then said quickly with a little glint in her eyes, "But she still may like it." Ignoring her daughter, Nesho moved over to the now standing Shasta. "Hmm, you are a pretty little thing. Have you ever tended babies?" "No, I was never used for that," then Shasta did a double take. "Ah, mistress... ?" "Nesho, call me Nesho. I am Master Dent's senior wife and these two little arm fobs are Sosho, who also happens to be my daughter, and Clarise, Master Dent's junior wives." "Wives?" Shasta blurted out. "But you're all..." "Slaves?" Nesho interjected. "True, but wives are what he calls us and that's what we will be until he says otherwise. So you don't know anything about babies. Pity. We will need a couple of good nannies pretty soon as you might have noticed. Well no matter; we'll find something for you to do." "You mean I won't be servicing the Master?" Shasta said with surprise. "Not hardly," huffed Clarise with a snort from Sosho. "That's our privilege and I dare say between the three of us we keep him well occupied. Isn't that right, Master?" To emphasize her point Clarise jabbed Dent in the side with a finger and was rewarded with a sharp grunt and nod. In retaliation he began tickling her under the arm until she was helplessly giggling and begging for mercy. With a girl under each arm Dent started for the door while Nesho beckoned with her hand that Shasta should walk with her a few steps behind them. "So how does it feel being brought back from the brink of death?" Nesho asked casually as they walked along. "I don't know," Shasta answered truthfully. "I feel dazed, sort of in a fog ... like nothing is real. Does he really own me now?" "Good question," Nesho said pondering. "My guess is we'll probably hear from your late master's relatives about your 'punishment' and maybe a demand for compensation. That we can take care of easily enough," she added, brushing off the potential problem as inconsequential with a wave of her hand. "Or maybe not. Mongue was from Harv'el, wasn't he? People there have learned to walk softly around our master, if they know what's good for them, that is. We may never hear anything." "I just don't understand," Shasta whispered after a moment's hesitation. "Why would he do this for me? No noble I have ever met would do such a thing." "Well Dent is like no noble you have ever met," Nesho said giving the girl a big smile. "Someday I'll tell you our tale. It will answer most of the questions you probably have. Come to think about it, it would make a fine story; one with pirates, warriors, and scantily-clad slave girls..." "It is almost impossible to keep clothes on these three wenches," Dent said looking back over his shoulder. His remark earned him more pokes from his two arm leaches and tickles in retaliation. "As I was saying before being rudely interrupted," Nesho continued, "once you have been bonded and have a chance to settle in I'll tell you everything. It really is quite fascinating, if I do say so myself." "Can I ask?" Shasta tentatively inquired. "Does this bonding hurt? I've heard of the slave collar before, but I've never met anyone that actually had one." "Only if you're stupid and fight it," Clarise said looking back over her own shoulder. "And that comes from personal experience. I could tell you it's the best thing that has ever happened to me but you'll have to experience it for yourself." "And that you will shortly," Nesho said decisively. Authors note: If you are interested you can find the continuation of Shasta's and Dent's family's story in Shasta's Tale. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2005-01-22 Last Modified: 2008-08-02 / 04:51:00 pm Version: 1.10 ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------