The Briny Deep

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by Simon Archer


  The woman in my lap was fairly quivering with anticipation, panting and purring loudly as she resisted squirming even more than she already was. I leaned in and nuzzled her ear as I finally slipped my hand between her legs. She was small enough that she had to spread them further apart, and she leaned back against me with her eyes closed.

  I shifted a bit and let her feel me against her backside again. The sliding of her wet fur against my skin did a good number of getting me worked up even more. For an orc, lust was almost as strong as rage and often led to similar outcomes, even sliding easily from one to another. Rage to lust was especially likely, but lust to rage rarely happened, unless something happened to deny us the outlet.

  Even though I was an older, experienced, and fairly civilized member of my species, the urge for sex was a strong one in me.

  The fur concealing Tabitha Binx’s womanhood parted under my fingers, and she let out a sudden gasp and arched against me at the first light touch as I spread those nether lips wide. Despite being in the water to her waist, those folds were slick with her desire.

  “Bardak… please…” Tabitha whimpered and reached back to brush her fingers along my shaft. “Let me… please you…”

  That was an unexpected response. I dipped my thick middle finger inside her and gave the prominent button of her clitoris a rub. The Ailur’s body tensed and arched as her hips bucked. Water splashed wildly as she reached up and back to press her wet hands against my face.

  Satisfied, I released her, and she slid from my lap and into the soapy water. Her eyes shut, and she twisted around to kneel in the water that just covered her full breasts. The pupils of her eyes were wide when they opened again and stared full into my own.

  A smile spread across her lips, and without breaking my gaze, she slid her body against my thighs and reached to curl the fingers of both hands around the shaft of my erection.

  I let out a growl of pleasure at her touch, then grinned as she started to stroke me up and down. One hand fell away and caressed the heavy orbs in my sac. She smiled even more at my reaction, and kept it up for a bit, pumping with one hand and teasing with the other until she felt me start to swell even more.

  “There,” she whispered and drew her hands away. “Ye want to finish that inside me, Bardak?”

  “Aye,” I replied and swallowed hard as she rose and moved to bend over the edge of the tub, her legs spread wide.

  “Take me, then,” she moaned and arched her long tail over her back, exposing herself to me.

  I rose and moved up behind her. This was the invitation I’d been waiting for: I wanted to hear the little cat tell me she wanted me, and I hadn’t been disappointed. The side of the tub was warm and wet as I gripped it with my left hand while I positioned myself with the right. She was tiny, and I was quite the opposite. Mary was about the same size but was fae, and I’d never experienced an Ailur before.

  My heart pounded in my chest, and my vision had narrowed such that the black-furred, naked form of Tabitha Binx poised before me was all I could see. I guided the tip of my erection to the pale pink slit visible through the parted black fur. A short thrust and I was inside her.

  She froze at that moment as I put my right hand on the edge of the tub as well. Perhaps she had second thoughts in that brief second, but all of that evaporated as I pushed deeper into the Ailur woman’s tight, hot depths.

  A low yowl escaped her then but turned quickly into a purring moan as I buried myself as deep as I could go in her. She shuddered against me and mewed, “More!”

  That was all I needed. I drew back and then rammed in until she cried out and arched her back. Her backside pushed against my hips, and I let myself go. Water splashed madly around us as I rutted the small, feline woman with all the abandon of my trysts with Mary Night.

  Tabitha took it and gave it right back, yowling and hissing, purring and moaning while I had her. She took my pleasure for herself, then made more of it and gave it back.

  It was very easy to lose myself in Tabitha Binx, as she was as energetic a lover as I could want. In some ways, she was a lot like Mary and Ligeia combined, but with several differences that were all her own.

  In particular, she liked to make a fight out of it.

  My first climax caught both of us by surprise, but we were so wound up that it immediately sent her into a violent orgasm of her own. If the tub hadn’t been bolted down, it would have gone over.

  A few minutes later, when I was recovered, she took advantage and squirmed away, with a mew and a shiver when I came out of her. The next thing I knew, the feline woman grabbed my hair and practically climbed up my frame to kiss me with a hungry passion.

  “There’s somethin’ I want ye to know, Bardak,” She whispered against my lips. “I like bein’ forced by a man I trust. I’ll fight ye, but unless the word ‘kulum’ crosses my lips, I want ye to keep goin’.”

  I wrapped my arms around her and pinned her against me. “What does that mean?”

  Tabitha giggled softly. “‘Tis the word for a woman’s parts in the tongue o’ my home.”

  “So ye like it rough?” I murmured, more an observation than a question.

  “Aye, pirate, I do. Yet only with a man I be willin’ t’trust, an’ one who can drive me mad just bathin’ me.” She grinned and kissed me again. “I’d not pass that key t’ just anyone, but I think ye’ve earned it.”

  “The treasure ain’t ours, yet,” I warned her. “I thought ye planned to do this once we’d looted The Golden Bull.”

  Tabitha shrugged. “Ye ain’t ever known a girl to change her mind?”

  I chuckled. It wouldn’t be hard to love this little slip of a thing with her quick wit and quicker blade and gun. “Do ye still wish to join my clan, then?”

  “Aye, Cap’n Bardak, I do, but I want t’make somethin’ clear first off,” she grew serious and gazed deep into my eyes with her hands resting on my shoulders. “Many o’ the girls on The Black Cat had a bad time with men before they joined me. Some of ‘em even think I’ve gone soft in the head by joinin’ up with yer lot.”

  “Have ye?” I asked, not seriously.

  Tabitha shook her head and huffed softly. “Nay, Cap’n. We be a small ship with a small crew. There ain’t no way we’d make a big enough haul on our own t’ move up in the world. Thing is, some o’ the girls think we can, or they did. Methinks this battle has shown ‘em different, but I’ll have t’get back to ye on that.”

  “What do ye need from me to reassure them?” I asked. If Jimmy hadn’t been exaggerating, the crew of The Black Cat under Jenny Nettles, the first mate, had taken action that turned the tide of the fight with the sahagin and saved no small number of my sailors. That was worth a lot to me, and I was more than happy to consider almost any request.

  She was silent for a moment, and I was acutely conscious that I was still hard as a rock, and she was still naked and in my lap, with her breasts brushing against my chest with each breath she took.

  “First, ye assign no men to the crew,” Tabitha said at last. “Then, ye let me handle any man that tries to hurt any o’ my girls.”

  “Done and done,” I asserted. “I thought ye might want somethin’ difficult.”

  Her head tilted curiously. “Ye ain’t teasin’, are ye?”

  “Nay, lass,” I replied. “My cap’ns all get say on who ends up on their crews, an’ I ain’t one to force the issue without good reason. While I’d like some o’ yer girls to spend time on other ships, particularly The Hullbreaker, forcin’ it’ll just make bad blood. That ain’t somethin’ that I want.”

  “As for lettin’ ye mete out justice to someone that hurts one o’ yer crew? That be cap’n’s privilege in my fleet, lass, unless ye ask for me t’ do it.” I shrugged and shifted my hands to rest on her hips.

  Tabitha studied me for a long moment. “I’m guessin’ ye ain’t one to be partial if someone breaks one o’ yer rules, are ye?”

  “I’m more one t’ make few rules,” I replied. “Tha
t way, they ain’t likely t’ need deep thought.”

  She laughed softly and shook her head. “Damn, but ye be a find, Cap’n Bardak. I am quite glad yer witch convinced me to talk to ye.” Then she froze. “Do ye think she or Ligeia would take offense at us?”

  “Not if ye don’t mind them joinin’ in, sometimes. They both like ye, and I think they have been waitin’ for ye to take me up on my offer,” I replied.

  Tabitha laughed softly, then leaned in and kissed me. “Well, if ye ain’t guessed already, I just did.”

  32

  Adra Notch-Ear

  I t was hard to tell midday from dawn. The clouds of portent and fear hung gray and heavy in the sky and blocked all but the strongest light from the sun far above. The pirates I’d adopted slept, either in lean-tos on the little island or back in the dubious comfort of their ill-smelling ships.

  My nose wrinkled at the thought, and I grinned to myself. They had made this plan, then all of them had gone off to drink or sleep or do whatever it was pirates did in the wake of bloodletting. I didn’t blame them for sleeping. The fight against the sea devils had been a fierce one, as violent as any battle I’d watched over in my homeland.

  Like the Captain, the Splitter of Skulls, I hailed from the northlands of the Empire of Man, but unlike him, I had no love or loyalty for it or its people. They had brought me nothing but pain, and yet I had lent my power to many of them, at least until I ended up in the hands of the Pirate King with his ridiculous moniker: Bloody Bill Markland.

  I spat onto the sand and watched the light foam of a wave carry it away. My jaw ached where my tusks were missing. They had been the first sacrifice I had made for power. More had followed, and I had many allies among the unseen world to go with eyes that saw easily into all the realms that rested side-by-side with this material world.

  As the Pirate King bade me in our bargain, I still sent information to him about the movements of Bardak and his crews. The Splitter of Skulls knew I did this. I kept no secrets from him, and I had explained the deal I’d made first off. On top of that, the ridiculous Pirate King had forgotten one rule in dealing with those of us that speak with spirits: He had not specified how I was to send the information to him. Each night I whispered it to the wind in Targik, the rarer dialect of the orcs of the northlands, and sent an elemental sprite to search him out.

  I had no idea where he was, though, so I just sent the little elementals out looking. Perhaps they’d find the Bloody Bill, or perhaps they would not. My part of the bargain was fulfilled the moment I sent them out.

  Now, though, it was time to do my part for these misfits. They wished to raise a sunken ship from a nigh unreachable depth. The elementals were more than capable of this, but they would need a proper appeasement. Bardak was in their favor, but he knew not how to do more than demand, and eventually, he would learn that the spirits would require something in return.

  That time was not now, though.

  Only the slender predator with the silken voice was awake, and she watched with those cold, black eyes of hers while I walked the rest of the way to the edge of the water and set down my burdens. First was a large stone with a flat top. I settled it into the wet sand at the junction of earth and sea, pushing it down until it sat firmly as the waves gurgled and foamed around it and my bare feet.

  Atop the stone, I placed a tarnished, silver bowl. I’d carried that battered old thing for years, all the way from the cave where I’d trained with the strongest shaman I could find. His price for training had been one I eagerly paid, though I eventually grew tired of his touch and quick, thoughtless acts.

  My nostrils flared, and I lifted my head to gaze at the siren. Our eyes met, and I held a hand out to her. Last night, while the rest slept, I’d asked her for a shard of the sunken ship’s hull. If she had it, this task would be much easier than without it.

  Ligeia had not failed me, of course. She rose from the water and strode over to me.

  “Taken from the outer hull of the wreck,” the siren said as she held out a sodden shard of wood.

  I took it in both hands and closed my eyes, opening my mind to the piece of the old ship. It resonated in my grasp, linked by the expected sympathies to the vessel from which it came. There was magic here. The Golden Bull had carried similar enchantments to The Hullbreaker ; hexes that reinforced her hull and gave her strength far beyond those of mere wood. The fact that she lay beneath something like a hundred-and-fifty to two-hundred fathoms of water was a testament to the forces that strove to destroy her.

  She carried some dangerous things, but they would serve best in the hands of the Splitter of Skulls. He could control them, particularly with the fae witch and me to help him. Already, he proved capable of wielding the Huntsman’s Spear that consumed so many of its owners that it howled with the spirits of the dead.

  That, too, would be useful for the one I was tempted to call ‘my Captain’, as Mary Night and Ligeia did. Now, though, the little Ailur was in his arms, and that was good. He would lend her strength, and she would return cunning.

  “Thank you, singer,” I said to Ligeia. “Would you witness?”

  “I believe I would. Should Captain Bardak not be here as well?” she replied.

  “It would make no difference,” I said. “Let him awaken to a pleasant surprise. Our time grows short faster than he thinks, and I would prefer we stayed ahead of the hungry dead.”

  Ligeia nodded slowly. She understood the need to act alone, as few of my compatriots did. I liked her.

  While I dropped the shard in my bowl and drew a small, sharp knife, the siren drifted to the side and squatted down on her haunches to watch and wait. Using the knife, I added another scar to the many that marred the green-gray skin of my left palm. Crimson blood welled up, and I let it drip over the soggy piece of hull and into the silver bowl.

  Sacrifice was important when working with spirits. The Splitter of Skulls needed to learn that, and sooner rather than later. I had to speak with him, but for now, I needed to show my own strength.

  I put my knife away while the blood dripped. Then I closed my fist and fished around in my pouches for the last thing I needed. I drew out a wax packet, opened it up, and broke off some of the sticky resin mixed with herbs that resided within. This I placed in the bowl along with the shard and the blood. It was light enough to float.

  Witches were not the only ones that could wield hexes, and sorcerers were not the only ones that could call upon the darkness. It was the power of witches that I called upon next, invoking a minor spell to light the resin on fire. It blazed up for a moment, then receded quickly to begin emitting a pleasant-smelling smoke.

  All of the elements were now represented. Perhaps I could have used the fire and water stones that were counted among the treasures of The Hullbreaker , but I did have some vanity left in me. Earth, air, and fire were represented by the stone and the smoke from the burning incense. Water came from the sea, and from my blood.

  My knees creaked a bit as I rose and stretched my hands up to the sky as I cast out my will. The breeze picked up in response and carried away the smoke. Then I brought my hands down and held them, palms to the ground. The earth answered with a low rumble that startled some of the closer sailors awake.

  The trance I was in deepened as I held my right hand over the bowl and turned it palm up before making a fist. The incense burst into flame, and the blood and wood began to sizzle and smoke. After a few moments, the entire contents of the silver bowl was burning.

  As the reek reached my nostrils, I focused my gaze on the choppy sea above the hole where The Golden Bull rested. Slowly, I reached out to the water and called my silent plea to the greatest elementals of the sea. I could have called a small army of lesser water spirits to raise the ship, but some deep-seated part of me felt the need to make a point.

  This was hard work, and I could feel the energy draining out of me as I kept up my invocation. Calling the spirits didn’t require words or spells, only desire and will, th
e will to call out into the worlds adjacent to ours. Elementals responded best to strength and the concept of like calling to like, and while they existed in opposition, they also shared a resonance that a skilled shaman could use to enhance their summonings.

  While elemental spirits gathered wherever there were concentrations of their associated element, they could appear anywhere that element presented itself. Thus any sort of water elemental could appear in the sea, or any air elemental in the air. I currently sought the attention of something big. I wanted one of the greatest of waterlords, a spirit capable of bearing the sunken ship up from its resting place and spiriting it to beach upon this very shore.

  More and more of my strength drained out of me as I redoubled my call. Like any orc, I had vast reserves, but my attempt to reach one of the great elementals was taxing.

  Then, I felt an answer, and my eyes blinked open to focus on the water. Out in the center of the blue hole, it began to churn and froth, then the motion of the waves themselves changed. The water churned and roared and frothed, whipped into a frenzy by the thing that I called up.

  Cries of surprise and alarm reached me through the din as I stood with my feet in the water and my arms outstretched. Ligeia stood beside me, lending her presence to mine in an effort to keep the appearance of calm.

  Inwardly, I rejoiced. Powerful elementals didn’t come out to play for just anyone. After it announced its presence through the formation of an immense whirlpool, fully the width of the sea’s eye and possibly even reaching to the bottom, I felt the weight of inquisition as the spirit’s will bent against mine.

  “This is a shard of the ship that rests at the bottom of the sea within that hole,” I said as I reached down and withdrew the hexed wood from the bowl, then cast it out into the water. It vanished immediately, pulled out into the whirlpool. “I wish for you to raise the ship gently from its resting place, bring it to the surface in one piece and undamaged, and convey it to the shore, also undamaged.”

 

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