It was very true, and my soul acknowledged it heartily. I smiled wanly. “So my supposed guilt is hubris?”
“Just so,” he said.
I was feeling the fool, wondering what knots of madness in my soul led me to follow the same rutted thoughts over and over again. How is it that I can know so many things—in my heart or my head, or both—and yet not be able to follow the logical dictates of them? I supposed this conversation, like all the rest, was another attempt to tease out a piece of those knots. I hoped one day I would be free of them—and the miasma of guilt. I surely did not know how to cut myself free. I was afraid to; as I had been afraid of killing my father. That was a line I must slash; but truly, I had always known that if I began hacking about I could likely lose things I wished to be bound to in the carnage. I knew, I knew, and yet…
“I enjoy castigating myself,” I said at last.
“Oui,” my matelot said, “you like pain.”
My cock perked. I cursed the foibles of my life with my laughter.
We at last reluctantly returned to our friends. Cudro and Ash were sitting silently on opposite sides of the low smoky fire. Gaston deposited his fish near them and joined me in the smoke with his back to the light—a thing he had taught me on the Haiti.
“I cut it down to strips to cook it quicker,” Cudro said. Some of the smaller ones are done. You could take them to Pete and Chris. Pete’s near that damn stream and Chris is watching the sea.” He pointed south along the shore.
Gaston squared his shoulders and nodded resolutely. In the flickering light I could see how tired he appeared. It clutched at my heart. I told myself again it had only been a little over three weeks, but I worried that his illness had been akin to the dread malaria, and he would be afflicted with it for the remainder of his life.
“Sit,” I told him, with a firm hand on his shoulder.
He looked both relieved and annoyed.
I leaned in close and whispered, “You have proven yourself to me this night, you need show no other.”
He snorted and kissed my cheek.
I took a stick with a steamy hunk of meat that Cudro proffered, and gingerly made my way into the darkness near the inlet—a knife clutched in my free hand.
“YaSeeAnyShips?” Pete surprised me by asking from the shadows.
I had not seen or even felt his presence.
I sighed. “Nay, we were otherwise engaged. It is good Chris is watching the sea.”
He snorted and chuckled. “ISent’ImInYourDirection, But’ECameBack Mutterin’’Bout’Ow TheViewWere BetterFromThe OtherSide.”
I sighed again. I was pleased Chris had not come while we spoke, yet… “We must cure him of his squeamishness on that matter.”
“MaybeYaTwo ShouldFuckMore. YouBeTheOnly OnesThatCanNow.”
“Aye,” I chided, “and we are attempting to be respectful of everyone else’s loss.”
Pete made a disparaging noise. “ILikeWatchin’YaFuck.”
I could feel his hungry eyes in the dark. It was unsettling. “Pete, you need a matelot.”
“IGottaMatelot.”
“You need someone you can fuck.”
He sighed and began to eat.
I regretted my words, and struggled to think of something helpful.
“MaybeCowIsland,” he slurred around a mouthful of cayman.
“Aye,” I said. “Though Cudro and Ash are apparently no more, it would be rude and difficult even if one of them were interested.”
“NotMyType, EitherO’’Em. AshIsAWanker WithNoLoveO’Men, An’ CudroWouldna’ Spread’IsCheeksFer AnyManLes’’EWereBeat BloodyAn’ NearDead.”
I chuckled at his assessment. “And since neither would you…”
He snorted and spoke with amusement. “IDidFerStriker. ButNoOther.”
“Chris?” I offered and laughed.
He rumbled with incoherent disparagement and then laughed. “Aye, ICanSeeThat,” he said with great sarcasm. “’EDon’Want Nobody, An’’E’s Never GonnaMake AProperMatelot FerAMan.”
I frowned unseen in the darkness. Since we had made our pact to only refer to Chris in the masculine, Pete was the only one of us who never stumbled on the mention of Chris’ gender.
“Is it because he is a woman?” I asked.
Pete paused in chewing. “YaWant’Im TaBeAWoman OrNot?”
I recalled my musings on the matter. “I still do not know if I want him to succeed in his aim—over the course of his life.”
“WhyNot?”
“I suppose I am still annoyed by his presumption; yet, that is contrary to my sympathies for women in general. I feel it is unfair that they do not share in the rights held by men. I suppose to some degree, it is because it is Chris. I feel that if Yvette or Agnes wished to pursue such a ruse, I would not resent them. But Chris approaches the matter with such arrogance at times. It rankles.”
“SoItBeOn AccountO’YurPast With’Im.”
I sighed. “Aye.”
He was silent for a time and I heard him toss the stick the meat had been on away.
“You still do not like women at all, correct?” I asked. “With the exception of Sarah.”
“ThereBeMany ADayILike’ErLess ThanAllTheOthers. TheyAll… ItBeLikeYaSaid TaChris. TheyAllBeThinkin’ AllCocksBelongTa Them. An’MaybeItBe’Cause TheyGotNone O’TheirOwn, ButForAManWho WantsCocksO’’IsOwn, TheyBeA DangerousEnemy.”
“Aye,” I said somberly. “Tell me truly, have you ever wanted one? Simply looked upon one and felt desire?”
“’AveYou?”
“Aye.”
He sighed and fidgeted. “SometimesICan LookAtSarah, An’Think ’OwSheBeWhen She’sWarmAn’Soft BeneathMe, AnMyCock LikesThe SightO’’Er. ButThatNa’Be WhatYurAskin’, IsIt?”
“Nay. I mean a woman you have not had. A woman you did not want to possess first because… she stole something from you.”
“Aye,” he sighed. “ButTheyAllDid, Will. WhenIBeYoung, TheOlder BoysFucked TheYoungerUntil TheyGotSome ChanceAtAWoman, OrOneO’TheGirls WhoRanWithUs GrewTittiesAnAMuff. ThenTheyFoughtO’er’Em. TheBoysThoughtThey ’Ad TaMakeMore MoneyTaKeepOne. TheyTookStupidRisks. OrTheyGuttedOne Another O’erSomeLittleCunt’s Affection. IWantedNoneO’It. ItWasStupid.
“But… YurQuestion. ThereWere ATimeThen WhenITookTaSpyin’ OnWiminTaSeeWhat TheFussWereAbout. AllTheBoys I’AdWanted WereTryin’TaFuck’Em, MaybeIWereMissin’ Somethin, YaKnow? SoILooked. ThereWasThis OneWhore. SheWereOlder ThanMe. ButAThinBody, LikeABoy’s. SheWould BatheEvery AfternoonAtA Gutter BarrelIn ThisCornerO’AnAlley. AnIWouldSpyOn’Er. SheWould Drop’Er DressAn’WashWithThis LookOn’ErFaceLike… Like She’Ad JustButchered AHogAn’Now SheWasWashin’ TheBloodAway. Dignified. IGuessThatBeTheWord. She’AdDignity. SheDidNa’ Roll ’ErEyesAn’Swing ’ErHipsOrNoneO’That. SheActedLikeALady, An’WhenSheWereAboutMen, ItWereObviousShe Hated’EmAsMuch AsIHatedTheTrollops. MyCock RoseFer’Er AllOnItsOwn.”
I was humbled by his confession; and I understood it. “I feel… If women had not been offered to me as a youth I would not have partaken of them. I understand you being attracted to the dignified ones. I feel the same. I have to think a great deal on the pleasure to come, or about men, in order to rouse my cock with the others. And… Nay, I do not feel it is because the dignified ones hold themselves like men. Nay, it is something else.”
“IThinkIt WasBecause SheDidNa’LikeMen. Nay,” he quickly corrected. “IRoseFor’Er BeforeIUnderstoodThat. Nay, ItBe…LikeTheMoon, OrAThingO’Beauty. AThingO’Nature, Na’Man. SheWasBeautiful’Cause SheWeren’t MadeByAManAn’’AdNuthin’TaDoWithMen. TheOthers, TheyBeAllAboutMen. Lookin’LikeThey ThinkMenWant. Cooin’FerTheMen. ButSheWasJust AsSheWas. LikeTheGodsIntended.”
“I understand; aye, I understand very well.”
He sighed. “ILikedSarahWhen ItWereJustUs. An’WhenSheWere Bein’ABitch, JustBein’’Erself.” He chuckled. “LikedRachelSometimes WhenSheWereLikeThatToo. An’Agnes, ThoughShe WereNe’erABitch. SheJustBeAgnes, AsTheGodsIntended. NoGuile.”
I thought to dispute him on that, but held my tongue. The cunning—my wife—occasionally exhibited was not malicious.
“INa’BeRisin’Fer’Em, ButIDoRespect’Em,” he continued. “That’sWhatMakesMe Angry’BoutThatChris. ’EBeFullO’Guile. Na’LikeAMan.”
“I have seen many a man full of guile,” I said.
“YaKnow WhatIMean,” he huffed.
“Aye, I do. In his defense, however…” I sighed. “Well, despite my annoyance with his arrogance on occasion; and… I was first attracted to her, because of her dignity. I saw she was not like the other ladies, and I felt for her. She seemed to want so much more than a cock in her hand. I think that is why I came to hate her even more than I hated Vivian. Chris knew—knows—better. Yet, as she tells it, I am to blame.”
Pete snorted. “’OwIsThat?”
“She fell in love with me, not because I was a handsome or charming man, but because I was different from the other men of her knowledge. I saw beyond her breasts and smooth skin: I saw her spirit and I admired it. And, I offered her a chance to fulfill her dreams. And then she discovered she was indeed a child of Venus, a feminine creature of love, and she realized I would never sate her desire to be loved as she wished, as a woman; because I do not love women in that way, and my heart was held by Gaston. So her love turned to hate, and she lost herself to the only method of battle she had been taught—feminine guile—and she tried to hurt me—not Gaston. And, of course, he saw what she was about, and that part of him that is mad, yet sees truth, decided to… duel with her, perhaps.”
He sighed and scratched his head. “INeedTa ThinkOnThat. IDone SomeMeanThings WhenIWereYoung. ’CauseO’Love.”
“So did I,” I said sadly. “And I was the recipient of the same.”
Shane filled my mind, and I wondered yet again if he had truly loved me, or…
“Stay’Ere,” Pete said. “IWantMoreFood.”
“So do I,” I said. “I have not eaten yet, and I do not think Chris has, and…”
“I’llSendYurMatelot.” And with that, he was gone.
I fumbled around until I found the log he had been perched upon. I listened to the night. As always after being so engrossed, I hoped Spaniards had not been listening to our conversation. I supposed if they had been, they had become so engrossed they had decided not to fire. Then I worried about cayman creeping closer like marauding wolves in the darkness. They would not care about that which we spoke.
The eyes of the beast that attacked me came to mind: the dull blackness of them, and then even that little light failing as Pete and Cudro’s blades struck home. It minded me of watching Shane’s eyes during one of his attacks. His dark eyes filled with wine and desperation, and then the light dying when he spent himself in me.
Gaston found me with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. Being my matelot, he knew as soon as I croaked a greeting to let him know where I was. He held me for a time, and then I ate the hunk of meat he had brought and told him of my conversation with Pete.
“I remember getting rise at the sight of another boy—and once a monk,” he admitted. “I had been ashamed, but they had been beautiful. Then that night occurred, and then I did not get rise at anything until you; though I suppose I might have been moved to it on occasion if I had not been so wounded. I have seen some men cast in the form of the Gods here, and I suppose I have wished to rise to honor them.”
“I suppose that is it, a salute to beauty, and not necessarily a thing of lust,” I said.
“Now, why were you crying?” he asked kindly with a kiss upon my cheek.
I laughed weakly and told him of my strange comparison of Shane to the cayman.
He was quiet for a time, but then he asked with a thoughtful tone, “How would you feel if Cudro and Pete fell upon Shane with blades?”
I smiled into the darkness and answered easily. “Sad.”
“Because it was not you wielding them?”
“Nay, because… he is just a stupid beast. He just… he wanted me, as I wanted him, and then the world told him no, and… he became mean, like a baited dog or bull. He was too damn stupid to see what he wanted and that it was possible to stand against them. Or, if he did not lack the intelligence, he lacked the courage. He was a vicious log in the stream of my life, and I am one very lucky bastard—in that I was never like him.”
Gaston chuckled with me. Then he sobered. “Non, you are one lucky centaur, with a very big heart.”
“And a holy man, do not forget that I am a holy man.”
We held one another and laughed. Then it turned to sloppy kisses; and I prayed to the Gods there were truly no Spaniards about as I pulled him to me—especially when I was further distracted by his making me do all the work.
One Hundred and Four
Wherein We Experience Change
We saw another boat shortly after we set sail in the morning. Cudro steered us to deeper water, and we watched the little vessel—no larger than our craft—sail north past the inlet we had vacated. With a worried face, Cudro adjusted the sail yet again, and took us even further out to sea.
“If there is a port to the south, how will we know we have sailed past it?” I asked.
He sighed and shrugged his massive shoulders. “When we run out of cayman meat and water.”
I grunted my reluctant understanding. He was absolutely correct: we had little choice.
Gaston and I decided we did have a choice about sating our carnal appetites upon our tiny vessel, though: our compatriots and their woes be damned, we would enjoy ourselves. On our first night far from shore, my matelot engaged in a slow and thorough plunder of my arse; and then we ignored the glares we received in the morning.
On the second night, Gaston woke me after his turn at the helm, and told me he had just washed his cock. With a quiet laugh, I obliged his request, and soon had his member in my mouth while he lay far up in the bow and gripped the boards behind his head. I took my time, kneading his arse cheeks, toying with his nether hole, and finding great amusement and satisfaction in the groans he attempted to stifle. At last he could bear no more, and he pushed my kerchief away and caressed my scalp as he always did just before he found his pleasure. Then it overtook him, and he held my head firmly on his cock as he pumped his hips with one last groan. I prepared a little joke about how he must have washed within as well, because he surely tasted as salty on the inside as he did on the outside; but as I left his member, I felt his body stiffen. With alarm, I looked up at him and found him looking over me. I turned and found four sets of bright and staring eyes under the—newly risen moon. Then Pete’s eyes closed and he gave a great, satisfied grunt and slumped against the gunwale. Only then did I see he had a hand in his breeches. Cudro followed mere moments later—with a hearty chuckle.
“You are animals,” Chris said quietly with a mix of disgust and wonder. “Every one of you.”
“I don’t have a hand in my breeches,” Ash hissed from the tiller.
“You best not: you’re steering,” Cudro said with amusement before patting his bag into shape and settling down to sleep.
“And that—what they did—what Will did—was disgusting,” Ash added.
“You wouldn’t say that if you ever tried it,” Cudro said.
“As if anyone would do me such a favor,” Ash growled.
Cudro sighed. “You’re correct. I’ve never done that for… any man.” He sat up and looked to me. “I mean no offense to those that do,” he said to me.
I sighed. “I take no offense. It is truly quite enjoyable. You should try it.”
“The next time I have someone to try it on, I will,” Cudro said with a snort and a glare at his former matelot.
Ash grumbled something under his breath.
“StrikerBeStubborn OnTheMatter,” Pete said. “WeSeen YaTwoAtIt Afore, An’’ERefusedTaTryIt.”
I could well imagine how that had gone. “Did you ever attempt to put his cock in your mouth?” I asked wryly.
Pete snorted disparagin
gly and grinned. “YaSayItYurself, IBeMore StubbornThan TheGods.”
I laughed.
“You are all disgusting and pathetically selfish,” Chris said.
“I am not,” I said.
“I do it for Will,” Gaston said.
“Aye, he does it for me,” I added.
“Fine, then most of you are pathetically selfish,” Chris said.
“WouldYaDo ThatForAMan?” Pete asked.
“As opposed to a woman?” Chris asked archly. “Nay, neither, and never!”
“I have done that for women,” I said with amusement.
“You sir, are a whore,” Chris said with a surprisingly teasing tone.
I laughed again. “Never for money, my dear lad: I am merely wanton.”
Gaston and Cudro were laughing.
“SoWhatDo YaDoOn AWoman? LickTheLittle NubbyThing?” Pete asked quite seriously.
“Aye, precisely,” I said. “In truth I have only done it twice, and in both cases it was as a matter of arousal and initial titillation for the lady. I did not proceed until she found her pleasure. They came on my cock and not my tongue as it were.” And I did not mention that I had been quite pleased to tarry only briefly in those furry forests, as both women had not bathed as my matelot did, and thus were quite rank.
“Have you had other men put their mouths on you—aside from your matelot?” Cudro asked.
“Nay, and nay for women as well. I was always afraid of their teeth.”
This elicited great guffaws from Cudro and Pete.
Ash was staring at the star he was steering by with great determination and little expression on his beaked face.
Chris’ fine features were knotted and furled with a mix of bemusement and horror.
“What have I said that would so disturb a young gentleman who surely lost his virginity to the chambermaid?” I teased.
Chris looked away to shake his head tightly and hug his knees.
“HowDoesItTaste?” Pete asked.
“Which, cock or pussy?” I asked, with even more amusement at his serious tone.
“Jism,” he said.
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