The Soldier's Lotus

by Adonis Devereux

  “Chained Abrexa have mercy.”

  Chapter Two

  Darien slammed his fist into his palm, cracking all the knuckles in his hand. The close, hot air of the cabin stifled him, and he yanked at his collar while with the deft movements of his thumb he popped the buttons of his shirt. A couple of tugs at the white linen that stuck to his sweat-soaked skin sent billowing relief down his chest and across his back. He rose from where he sat behind his antique desk and took the two steps necessary to the porthole. Throwing it open, he nodded to his first mate.

  “Get the door, Kamen.”

  Puzzlement entered Kamen’s eyes. “You sure?”

  Darien drew a wet hand across his wet brow. He was not the type of captain to keep himself all cooped up in his room, even if he was talking finances with his first mate. And especially not in the heat of summer. He enjoyed a certain openness with his crew that in his experience created greater camaraderie among the men.

  Kamen opened the door, and the general noise of the main deck flooded in. “Anyway, as I was saying, since the third mate and two other men were lost in our latest, their shares are up for grabs.”

  Darien put one leg up on a crossbeam of the bulkhead, rested his elbow on his knee, and looked out the window across the wide sea. “What are the shares?”

  Kamen came to stand near Darien and glanced down at his ledger. “The third mate had 2 ½, and the other two together had one share.”

  “All right,” Darien said, “take them all and divide them equally among the men. It’ll give them a few more silver when they go ashore.”

  Kamen’s lips stretched downward in surprise. “That’ll make the crew happy.”

  Darien turned to Kamen and smiled. “That’s the point.” He clapped his first mate on the shoulder. “They did a fine job taking down those Stormhaven pirates. Made short work of them, thereby making my job look easy.”

  Kamen reached up and grasped Darien’s forearm as it still rested on his shoulder. He ran his hand along his captain’s smooth, brown skin. “They owe it all to you. You’re the best commander anyone could ask for.”

  “Enough of that!” Darien gave Kamen a playful slap on the back and moved to resume his seat. “But what about you? You’ve hauled in enough plunder to prove yourself. What are you still doing here?”

  Kamen whirled so quickly on Darien that his dreadlocks swung out across his face. “What do you mean?”

  The sudden fear in Kamen’s eyes confused Darien. He was not intimating that he planned to kick Kamen off his ship. On the contrary, Kamen had been his trusted first mate for three years, and Darien would be happy to keep him on for as long as he wanted to stay. “It’s just that you’ve got responsibilities, and I thought you’d want to be seeing to your future.”

  “The future of my family, you mean.” Kamen’s head sank, and he rubbed the ring in his nostril.

  Darien shrugged. “Same thing?”

  It was Kamen’s turn to shrug. “I like sailing. The navy’s been my life these past seven years.”

  “Yeah, and you’re overdue. Your term of service was up two years ago.”

  “Why would I want to leave? You know how many glorious battles you’ve led us in? I couldn’t get this kind of excitement on land.” Kamen puffed out his chest and haughtily waved his head at Darien. “Besides, what about you? You came into the military at sixteen just like everyone else. What are you still doing here twenty years later?”

  “You’re an Itenu,” Darien said, laughing. “Me? I’m nobody. I don’t have a drop of noble blood in me.” He stomped the floorboard. “This is me.”

  “But you’re richer than most of the nobles of Arinport. You could retire tomorrow.”

  “When the chase no longer thrills me or when the sea no longer carries pirate ships – whichever comes first – then I’ll retire. But you? It’s about time you find a wife, settle down, and make a litter of little Itenus. A nobleman’s got his duty.” He gave Kamen a wink.

  “And you common men can live free as birds?” Kamen’s soft, delicate lips turned up in one of his signature charming smiles.

  “Something like that.” Darien spread his arms wide in mock apology. “One of the privileges of birth.” He threw his head back and laughed, and Kamen shared his mirth. So lusty was their chortling that it was not until their laughter began to die away that they heard commotion out on the main deck.

  “What’s this, then?” Darien leaped to his feet and raced past Kamen. His first mate was on his heels.

  Beyond the main deck hatch the crew had gathered, their rowdy shouts and wide, anticipatory stances telling Darien that they had caged something – or someone. Perhaps a pirate had escaped the sinking of his ship; perhaps like a coward he had abandoned his comrades only to be picked up on the open sea by the very men who had deprived him of his ability to further terrorize the merchant ships that ran between the coastal cities.

  Ruben, the second mate, stood apart from the ebullient crowd, though he watched the men with a close eye.

  “Explain this,” Darien said.

  Ruben snapped to attention. “Sea plunder, sir.” With a nod of his head, he indicated the sailors gathered at the other end of the main deck.

  “Make way there!” Darien cried out, shouldering his way through the crew. Darien was a head taller than the next tallest man on the ship, and his muscular shoulders, powerful arms, and broad, well-formed chest set him apart from so many other Sunjaa, whose frames were for the most part more like Kamen’s, lithe and cat-like with a wiry strength. Darien was a lion among cubs.

  What appeared before Darien’s eyes was no pirate, no prisoner of war, but rather a fair-skinned Zenji girl. Memory struck him like a lightning flash, and he saw in a moment in his mind’s eye the raid on the Dimadan and the destruction of the Kesandrahn Clan. That was the last time he had been this close to a Zenji.

  “What’s this all about?” Darien’s voice was a roar that silenced the raucous crew. He heard a knocking in the ensuing silence and peeked over the side. A lifeboat was tethered to the hull, and the choppy waves thrust it repeatedly against the side of the ship.

  “We found her just floating there,” Ruben’s voice called out.

  The girl pulled her pallav up around her face, hiding her beautiful mouth and lovely nose, and her cobalt blue eyes darted from one face to another. Darien recognized instantly what the girl was doing; he had seen it before. She was counting. She was cornered, and she was counting. She was figuring how many she would be able to defeat before she was overwhelmed. It was the calm desperation of a skilled warrior who knew she had no hope of escape. Darien liked her immediately, and he wanted to know her more.

  The girl scrambled back until her back rested against the bulkhead of the forecastle. She made sure she had her back to something, a defensible position. This neither escaped Darien’s notice.

  “We’re going to have a little fun with her captain,” said another voice, “seeing as we found her. We claim salvage rights.”

  It was a legitimate claim under Sunjaa maritime law, and such rights, though distasteful to Darien, extended to lost persons on the sea. The girl was alone; she was without friends or connections. She was finely dressed, to be sure, but the crew would tear her clothes to rags and rape her naked body until she lay bleeding and dying. Darien had seen such treatment often enough under Ulen’s – his former captain’s – command. He could not let that happen. He would not have one raven lock on this perfect woman’s head mistreated.

  “As captain, I lay first claim,” Darien said. The crew went berserk in protest, and Darien moved to stand before the girl to protect her. Her eyes widened, but he could not tell what she was feeling. Was it fear? Surprise? Indignation? Darien thought the crew might mutiny, and though he was an accomplished warrior, like the girl he could not defeat so many were they to come at him. But Darien would not stand by and let this girl be gang-raped. Not while he was captain. A solution presented itself just as the shouts of the crew turned
to furious howls.

  “Listen to me!” Darien raised his arms. “Listen!” The men did not calm, but their voices lowered. “I am a fair man. In exchange for this girl, I surrender two shares of my plunder to the general coffers, to be divided equally among you all.”

  The shouts turned to grumbles, but still the crew glared at him. Darien needed to sweeten the deal.

  “And,” he said, “I call common quarters.”

  The grumbles ceased, and the shaking of heads turned to nodding, the upraised fists turning to caresses on one another’s backs. Those not essential to the running of the ship at that very moment disappeared below deck, doubtless eager to indulge their lust at their leisure.

  “Common quarters.” Kamen came around the main mast to where Darien stood. “A fine idea. Will you join the men?” He stretched out his hand, but Darien did not take it.

  “Not today.” Darien glanced back at the girl, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Arinport held nothing half as lovely; in all the cities of the world he had visited, Darien had never seen a woman to match her. She had an inborn grace and natural allure about her that had obviously been enhanced through some sort of training.

  So transfixed was Darien with this stranger that though he spoke to Kamen, he could not look back at his first mate. “And I’m afraid you can’t join them, either. I need you to stand witness.”

  The girl’s defensiveness was gone; her fear evaporated. The hardness of her eyes had melted away, and the soft and inviting expression that replaced her hate quite baffled Darien. “Do you understand me?”

  The girl nodded. “I speak the Sunjaa tongue, yes.”

  Darien stretched out his hand. “You’re safe now. No one’s going to harm you. Welcome aboard Mirsa’s Crown.”

  The girl took his hand and rose from her vulnerable position in one fluid movement. She applied hardly any pressure to Darien’s hand, instead shifting her body weight in perfect balance as she stood. At that moment, Darien knew she was trained in some form of martial art. It also explained her quiet determination to kill as many of her would-be rapists as she could before they overcame her.

  “My name is Darien. I am captain of this ship.”

  The girl stood dangerously close to him. Her exotic, perfumed scent aroused him, and the way she held her gold and red pallav across her face – hiding her beauty from him – made him want to pick her up and crush her to his broad chest. He did not know her, but he wanted her more than all the booty in his cargo hold. Compared to Darien she was small, to be sure, but the captain sensed some deep strength within her that told him he could probably play rough with her and she would not mind.

  “I am Saerileth.” Her eyes spoke to him more than her words. They beckoned him; they teased and enticed him.

  “Have you no friends? Where did you come from? Where were you bound?”

  Saerileth did not answer at first. Her eyes darted this way and that, almost as if she sought escape still. “I was lost from a ship bearing me to Arinport.”

  The answer came as if it had been jerked from her, and Darien sensed there was more to this mystery. But he knew what he had to do. He took Saerileth by the hand and led her to his cabin. “Come, Kamen.”

  Kamen followed, but he whispered a curse under his breath, and though Darien could not make it out, he caught the name of Veirakai in it. He chose to ignore it. Once inside, he offered Saerileth a seat on a divan of black velvet – spoils from a pirate ship taken years before. He had never sat on it, though, not wanting to mar its beauty. He was glad he never had, for its merit suited Saerileth, and her deigning to sit on it was like a blessing.

  Darien nodded at Kamen, and the first mate, jaw set tightly, got to work. Why this would bother Kamen Darien could not say, for he had taken concubines in the past. He had four at home in Arinport. Why should this one bother Kamen so? The first mate drafted a document that stated how Darien had taken Saerileth into his bed and made her his concubine on this date and on this ship, in the witness of Kamen Itenu. All that was left were the signatures. Darien took the pen and signed it, for he found it distasteful to interrupt lovemaking with legalese. Kamen took the quill after, sighed, and signed. Darien would have to have a chat with Kamen later about his attitude.

  He put his first mate out of his mind and bent all his thought and desire on the pale-skinned Zenji girl reclining on his divan. Still she covered her face, and still her blue eyes beckoned him.

  “I must enter you now,” Darien said, and Saerileth’s eyes widened.

  “Why?”

  “To prevent my crew from taking you themselves and dividing you as common spoil.”

  “Can you not just order them not to?”

  Darien shook his head. “They found you. If I renounce salvage rights to you, they can claim them. The only way to put you utterly beyond their power is to make you my legal concubine.”

  “Then why do you not just tell them I am?” Saerileth shifted on the divan and crossed her ankles.

  Darien glanced back at Kamen who stood in front of the door and looked straight ahead, bending his concentration on the invisible air. He did not make eye contact with Darien. Something serious ate at him, something that had started the moment Saerileth came aboard.

  “I tried that once,” Darien said, returning his attention to the girl he knew he must couple with. “There was no contract, no witness. I didn’t want to take the girl against her will, so I faked it. We Sunjaa are the People of the Word, as you probably know. If it isn’t written down and witnessed, it didn’t happen.” Darien did not enjoy talking about this, but he wanted Saerileth to understand. “Well, my crew went ahead and raped her anyway, and I wasn’t able to do anything about it. She was their salvage, and I had failed her.”

  Saerileth stood and let her pallav fall. Darien drew in a long, deep breath. Her beauty was divine, every line and curve perfect. “Your pain is fresh, as if this happened yesterday. You are a man of deep feeling.” And she laid her hand on the bare part of his chest that lay exposed from his loose shirt.

  Her flesh was still cold from the seawater, but her touch was like fire on his skin, sending hunger through him. “I will take you, then.” It was half statement, half question. He laid his hands on her shoulders, feeling her delicate frame beneath his strong, soldierly hands.

  All Saerileth did was look up at him through her long, black eyelashes and nod. That sent Darien over the edge. He picked her up and kissed her mouth, tasting her lips as if they were fruit. She was half his size, and he easily wrapped his arms around her back, bringing his hands to her opposite sides. She threw her arms around his neck as she kissed him back with equal fervor. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, and due to their size difference, she was practically perched on his massive, muscular frame. To Darien, she was no weight at all. He had carried heavier sacks of grain.

  Saerileth unwrapped her pallav from her left forearm and tossed it away. With both hands free, she ran her fingers across Darien’s close-cropped hair. Between kisses, Darien could catch glimpses of her body. Under the pallav, she wore a short shirt that left her midriff bare, and the skirt she wore, though tight, accommodated a wide range of movement. The material was elastic enough to allow her legs free reign.

  Darien laid Saerileth down on the divan and lay on top of her, though he rested most of his weight on his forearms and one knee that wedged itself between the cushions. So much for the pristine state of the divan! But to Darien, this moment made his saving it worth it. He wanted to be rough with Saerileth, but this was her first time with him, so he promised himself he would be gentle. By the way she ground against him and the way she deep-kissed, Darien guessed she was skilled in sex, but he could not know whether she had ever taken a man of his size inside her before. Considering she was dressed as if she had just come from the Dimadan, he guessed she had not. The Sunjaa were better endowed than the Zenji, and Darien was better endowed than any other Sunjaa he knew. And he had seen a lot of cocks in his day.

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nbsp; Saerileth blindly yanked at his breeches, and he blindly yanked at the shirt that hugged her breasts. They could not stop even for a moment to look at what they were doing; he needed more of her kisses. He did not want to miss one taste. He was greedy for this beautiful, pale stranger, and her clear desire for him only served to make him abandon all reason. His growl slipped past her tongue, and she responded by sucking on his bottom lip. His cock swelled, and he was obliged to reach down and loosen the strings so that his cock might burst free. When it did, it slapped against Saerileth’s belly with such a smack that she gasped and pulled away from Darien. Her eyes searched his in wonderment, as if she had discovered hidden treasure. She gazed into his eyes as her hand found his cock. Once she touched it, she smiled at Darien, let slip a light laugh, and fell to kissing him again.

  Darien reached under her skirt and pulled her underpants off, tossing them and letting them fall where they may. His fingers sought her pussy, and he was pleased to find it wet and prepared for him. His middle finger caressed her slit slowly up and down as the tip of his index finger found her clit and massaged it. Saerileth moaned into his mouth and opened her legs, inviting him in. She stroked his cock with the same speed he fingered her, making him feel like he was already fucking her. Saerileth knew what she was doing, that was certain, and Darien was amazed at how much she was able to accomplish through nothing more than kisses and a hand-job. His cum raced up his shaft, blazing a path of burning desire all through his cock. But he did not come. He took his cock in his own hand and stood before Saerileth.

  “Get inside me, Captain,” she said, lifting her skirt up to her waist. “We can enjoy the oral pleasure another time. Make me yours, now!”

  Darien was not about to argue over her sexual alacrity. He flipped Saerileth over on her stomach. “It’s easier this way.”