by Simon Archer
Then, she was in my arms, bare from the waist up while my naked siren squirmed and sang against my broad back. I picked up the little changeling witch and kissed her, losing myself in the moment and the joy of being with the both of them.
Ligeia undressed me while I held Mary, then knelt on the soft leaves as I took my witch down and carefully removed her loose wrap pants. The soft fabric fell away easily once the ties were undone, and Mary stretched her arms, elbows bent above her head as she gazed up at me. I could feel her desire, and I could smell her arousal. It mingled with the scent of my siren as a heady aroma that promised an ecstasy that few men ever experience or even survive.
Would I be able to handle the both of them and whatever Tabitha Binx might bring to the bedroom? I already knew that the Ailur was a lusty creature, with appetites perhaps even rivaling my Mary’s.
It would be a challenge that I would happily take, much like the one I faced now.
Ligeia moved in close, kissing me, then bent to kiss Mary while I loomed over them. Mary smiled up at me and winked as the siren stretched out alongside her. “Let me watch first, my Captain,” she murmured huskily, her voice trembling with desire. “Show me how you handle this lovely creature of the deep.”
I turned to Ligeia, who gazed with her wide, dark eyes up at me. She squirmed teasingly on her back and rubbed her legs together as her slender hands rested on her small breasts, then, slowly, parted her lips and wet them with a soft, pale tongue.
“Take me, my Captain,” said the siren.
I kissed my witch one more time, then did as my women wanted. My hands caught Ligeia’s wrists and pinned them as I nudged her legs apart with mine and positioned myself between them. She welcomed me and wrapped her long legs tight around my waist as I began to rut her, slowly at first, but picking up speed and force with each thrust of my hips.
Ligeia’s lithe body moved against mine, picking up the rhythm of my motions and moving in counterpoint, until, perhaps sooner than I expected, she climaxed, her body shaking against mine as I kept going until I finally spent myself inside her.
Then it was Mary’s turn, and she was waiting with an eager grin on her pale, blushing face as Ligeia trembled and whimpered happily in the aftermath. Only another orc, or a very exceptional human, could have gone so quickly from one eager lover to the next.
I took the witch with a single, rough thrust, just the way she liked it. Mary wasn’t quiet about it, either. She had teased me about screaming my name and scream it she did, loud enough that it startled birds from the trees above us and set some unseen parties laughing and giggling, distracted from their own fun.
Ligeia recovered enough to join in a bit, adding her own cool caresses and kisses to the mix until Mary and I climaxed together, and the witch pulled my head down next to hers and whispered, “I told her yes.
I let out a growl of assent, pulled out of her, and went for my siren again. We were about to do something that no air breather had done; set foot on the floor of a sea’s eye. There was no way that I wasn’t going to celebrate with my mates on what might be our last chance together, but the idea of having Tabitha once we’d looted the wreck was an additional incentive to achieve the impossible.
And by damn, I was going to achieve it.
23
W e left the three imperials behind, as I’d promised, when we sailed with the dawn. I made sure Drammond boarded Sirensong under Kargad’s watchful eyes. The man wasn’t precisely on my short list of troublemakers, but the statements he’d made and the questions he’d asked raised my hackles.
I hoped I was wrong. If he mutinied, I suspected Tabitha Binx would blame herself for it, and I’d have the devil’s own time convincing her that she couldn’t change a bastard’s heart. Especially not one that still held a torch for her.
That was the real problem. Mister Screed was fixated on the black-furred Ailur, and she had eyes for me.
Maybe I was wrong about this, though, and the weaselly little man was as interested in the gold as the rest of us were, and Tabitha just a means to an end. I wasn’t sure which was better.
The skies were gray, and the sea was choppy with waves as we raised our sails, and I turned the prow of The Hullbreaker in the direction of the only island I knew in this part of the chain that sported a sea’s eye. Eustace could confirm it once we reached the place, but I was as certain of this as I could be.
We had no plan to run a witchwind unless the elements turned against us, but Adra and I did open ourselves to the voices of the sea and sky. Mary, Nagra, and Ember were preparing in their own way for the coming challenge, while Tiny, a satisfied look in his slitted eyes, swam alongside my ship with Ligeia reclined in her thronelike nest on the Dragon Turtle’s shell.
I found the elementals agitated. There was a strange feeling in the air, but it wasn’t like that of a growing storm. There was a pressure building far to the north, and whatever it was, seemed to be homing in on us from the direction of the Aigon Straits.
The Indomitable. It had to be. I’d heard many tales of ghost ships, and most described them as having some kind of terrible effect on the weather and the sea itself as they passed. Could the Commodore track me, as the one who slew him, or was his unholy eye seeing us through some other method?
In truth, it hardly mattered. My sense of the dark forces told me that they moved fast, perhaps the same speed as a ship under the wind calling of a powerful witch. It was a speed we could match if we had to, so we could stay ahead of the fearsome hunter until we were ready to face him. Right now, though, we had a few days still, before we’d see him, and that should be enough time to find The Golden Bull and make off with our holds laden with booty.
After that was secure, I planned on taking the Huntsman’s Spear, hopefully mounted on a new haft courtesy of Cannonmaster Bord, and send my ship directly at the heart of the disturbance I felt. Adra and Mary would join me, and perhaps others, but the three other captains had orders to retreat to Tarrant and await me there for no more than a month. If I failed to show up, they’d split the treasure and scatter.
Or so I hoped. Likely at least one, maybe two, or even all of them would do something stupid and brave. With any luck, it wouldn’t get them killed, either.
Now it was hard to get out of sight of islands in the Archipelago, but there were places where the distance between these forested upthrusts of the seafloor was great enough that all you could see from the crow’s nest was miles and miles of open sea. Our course to the little, nameless isle that bore the sea’s eye was one of these, and we quickly lost sight of the forested cove around which we’d camped and had our fun last night.
The wind that carried us bore a deep chill that set even my bones to aching. As an orc in my thirties, I was pretty solidly middle age for my people who rarely lived past the age of fifty. There was no way I was going to stop now, and I fully intended to go to my grave with an axe in my hand and a roar on my lips. Death wouldn’t find me easy prey, especially not in the broken, undead form of Commodore Sebastian Arde.
I focused my thoughts back on the present. Below me, The Hullbreaker rose and fell rhythmically as it rode the waves before the rather lackluster winds the filled her sails and shook her lines. I adjusted course based on the vision in my mind’s eye, and the rest of my little fleet fell in beside and behind.
After the adventures of the previous few days, this voyage gave us a rather routine start. Aside from the threatening clouds and mild winds, there wasn’t much more than the usual routine. I did my watches, then combat drilled all available crew until I retired to my cabin while Jimmy Mocker and a younger orc by the name Bolrag did the other turns at the helm.
Teaching Bolrag had been Jimmy’s idea, the same with splitting the watches into eights instead of twelves. So far, the young orc had both the interest and the aptitude to man the helm, and I was pleased by that.
It was the afternoon of the third day out, and I sat at my desk with The Golden Bull’s manifest sitting on my desk, held
open by a split open skull. A mug of grog rested by my left hand, and Commodore Potts’ gun-axe sat on the desk to my right.
The creak of the timbers and the gentle rocking of the ship lulled me into a light doze until a quick tap on my door roused me enough to see Mary Night slip in. She flashed me a smile and sauntered over to sit perched on the edge of the desk.
“Catching some sleep, at last, my Captain?” the witch teased.
“It be far to quiet for me,” I told her with a wan grin. “What have ye been doing with yerself these past days?”
“Working on something to give us some protection from that disaster that follows us.” She reached into her blouse and retrieved a small leather pouch that she offered to me.
I took it and closed my fingers around it. The leather was still warm from nestling between the changeling woman’s ample breasts.
“What be this, witch?” I asked with a faint smirk.
“A talisman of sorts, Bardak,” she replied. “Everything I know about ghosts and the world of spirits went into that, but I will admit that is not nearly enough. This sort of thing is outside of my specialties.”
There was a leather thong tying the pouch shut, and it was long enough to fit around my neck. I grunted and pulled it over my head until it settled in the hollow of my throat. Maybe it was my imagination, but the odd oppressive sense that had been building as we sailed seemed to lessen. My brow furrowed for a moment, and I peered at Mary.
“Is there anything more ye can tell me of Lack?” I waved my hand to the aft, in the direction of our pursuer.
“Could you tell me again about your vision?” She asked in return. “Leave nothing out.”
I paused for a moment to let my mind wander back to the vision I’d had, then I told her of the dark-cloaked figure on the small boat, the rising of The Indomitable from her watery grave, and the subsequent appearance of the Commodore and his witch. She listened in silence as I described everything that I’d seen before the spirits of the wind had whisked me away.
She reached up and rubbed the bridge of her nose with the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. “You remember that the man in the boat is named Lack. The three of us who served Arde, Rhianne, Cicely, and I, met him once. It wasn’t long after that when Sebastian sought to claim the privilege of my body, and when I defied him, he declared me mutinous and delivered me to Lord Broward.” A sigh escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes. “Did ye see a witch other than the black-eyed one?”
“Nay,” I said with a shake of my head. “Only her and Arde.”
“Perhaps Cicely escaped then. I’m unsure who replaced me in The Indomitable’s coven, but maybe she did, too,” my witch mused. “That’s good, aye?”
“She be yer enemy, lass,” I said. “Are ye certain ‘tis a good thing?”
“Rhianne was loyal to Admiral Layne and Commodore Arde,” she explained. “Cicely less so, and she bore a birthmark on her face that made her unattractive to Arde. In age, she was closer to me, and the closest thing to a friend I had on that damned ship. Rhianne was nothing more than a bitch who sold out the Sisterhood for a place in the Commodore’s bed and some kind of bitter power that Lack provided.”
“What is Lack, then?” I wanted to know.
“A warlock, I suspect,” Mary replied with a shrug. “Evil, powerful, and under the thumb of Admiral Layne. If he’s the same creature the Sisterhood fought, then I doubt he’ll die easy.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Ye makin’ light o’ this, or are ye really unconcerned?”
“Concerned, aye,” she said with a sigh, “but there is nothing really to be done. Lack has done his piece, likely at Layne’s behest, and the ghostly shade of the man who tried to have me killed, along with a witch who would have sold me, body and soul, to help out with whatever in the hell the Admiral is playing at.”
“I have to laugh and pretend to be unconcerned, my Captain.” The witch raised her head and met my gaze, her mismatched eyes glistening as she looked at me. “Else I would be terrified.”
I stood and walked around the desk, then gathered the small woman in my arms and held her tightly.
“I want them dead,” she whispered against my chest. “Again, and again, and again, if necessary, and I mean to see it done.”
“I’m with ye, lass. Ye be a clanmate and a lover, and yer war is mine,” I said, my voice low and dark.
“As your war is mine, dearest orc pirate,” Mary murmured, then lifted her face again and smiled at me. “We will triumph, and I will show you wonders…” She paused for a moment. “... and a life that is long and full.”
That gave me pause. It was no secret that orcs were not the longest-lived of people, but we did burn bright in our allotted time. What could I accomplish if my witch could give me even a few more years?
“Ye can do that?” I blurted out.
She laughed softly and reached a warm hand up to caress the side of my face. “I can do many things, Bardak, love, which a typical witch cannot. My fae blood gives me a few interesting gifts.” She smirked playfully, all seriousness draining from her eyes. “Some of which ye have already enjoyed.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Fine, lass. I am yers, and ye be mine. Now, can ye make talismans like this for the rest of the crew, or at least the commanders?”
“Already done,” she answered. “I’ve passed them along to Binx, Kargad, Shrike, Mocker, and Bord. I’ve also worked upon The Hullbreaker a bit, enhancing the enchantments I already laid upon her. She should be capable of fighting The Indomitable on equal footing. I’ve not time to help with the other ships, nor do I expect their witches to follow in my footsteps, but ye will have a force to be reckoned with once the dead find us.”
“Good,” I rumbled. “Now what can ye tell me of Tabitha Binx? We’ve had no time to speak of her and her desires, though ye seemed to have approved o’ her.”
Mary snuggled against me, content to stay in my arms. “She happens to be a good fit for us, my Captain, though I rather doubt she will fall in line like Ligeia and call ye that. Tabitha does captain her own ship and is a cat, besides.”
“I expect she’ll come an’ go as she pleases,” I mused. “Much like our dear siren.”
“Oh, aye, and like our siren, she’ll warm no bed but yours when she does come padding in to tell of her adventures,” Mary said with a bright laugh.
“Ye almost have me lookin’ forward to havin’ her join us.”
“Oh, Bardak!” The witch laughed playfully. “I believe that ye are quite looking forward to having her, despite what ye may say now. That girl is much like ye but even more out of place and further from home. When ye have the time, talk with her, even if talking is not the only thing you’re doing.”
“Fine, lass,” I mock-grumbled. “Once we’ve time in port once more, I shall take Cap’n Binx aside for a private palaver over some form o’ hard-hittin’ rum.”
“Hah!” she barked laughter and kissed me. “Ye will not regret it, my Bardak.”
24
“ S ails ho!” someone yelled from the crow’s nest. It wasn’t Gol the Clanless. Likely some other keen-eyed crewman that she or Jimmy had tapped for a watch.
“Bloody hell,” I muttered. We had turned between some of the southerly islands, still well north of Avion, but well out of the usual lanes of travel in the archipelago. This could only mean one of two things: pirates or Admiralty.
“Any colors?” I bellowed up from my place at the helm.
“None,” the lookout called back.
“Be they in our path?” I asked, my voice booming out over the deck.
“Dead ahead, Cap’n!” came the response. “‘Tween us and land!”
Bord emerged from below as I swore soundly, his heavy boots clumping up the steps to the aftcastle deck. “What’re ye all shoutin’ about?” the dwarf grumbled.
In one gnarled hand, he carried a leather-wrapped item near five feet long. I knew it immediately. The Huntsman’s Spear.
“Ships
,” I told the cannonmaster. “Dead ahead. I ain’t sure if we be the only ones seekin’ this treasure, an’ if we ain’t, then how the bloody hell did they know about it?”
“Eh,” Bord grunted and held the wrapped spear out to me. “Watch out for the bloody thing. It be wrapped for a reason.”
“Why?”
“Once I’d set the haft, it began whisperin’ to me whenever I’d touch it. Likely ye have a will to keep it in line, but it ain’t mine to fight with, Cap’n. Break it again, an’ I’d say cast it overboard.” With those words, the old dwarf turned and started back down the steps.
“Bord,” I said. “Thank ye.”
He grumbled and waved a hand dismissively. “‘Twas nothin’, Cap’n.”
I couldn’t help but smile faintly at that. “Fine then. Get yer cannoneers ready. We may have a fight on our hands.”
Bord looked back at me with a sparkle in his one visible eye. “They always be ready, Cap’n. I also took the liberty o’ movin’ my masterpiece to a swivel on the foredeck. She’s a full arc o’ about two-seventy degrees by my figurin’. When ye give the order, I’ll put a warning clean through whatever ye put in front o’ us.”
I let out a grumbling sigh as the cannonmaster stomped off. The old dwarf was a walking example of the saying, “‘Tis better to get forgiveness than permission.” If he’d asked, I likely would have had him keep the four-barrelled cannon of his belowdecks, but he’d moved and mounted the damned thing while I slept, and somehow I hadn’t bloody noticed.
What else had Bord done to my ship? Once all of this was over, I’d need to take the time to walk an inspection and see if there was anything else I didn’t know about.
Not that his impromptu modifications were bad. I just preferred to be aware of them. Any change in the capabilities of The Hullbreaker could throw off my strategies, limit me.
“Yer welcome!” Bord yelled back as he stomped past the mainmast, headed for the fore.