Chapter 1

Sarina sat quietly as her friend, Evia, cut her hair off. Long, brown, flowing locks fell to the floor of the barn. "I don't understand why you're doing this, Sari," said the younger girl.

"I can't tell you, because if you knew you'd have to tell others," said Sarina DelVago. She looked at the hand mirror. "A bit more over the ears, I think."

Evia giggled at her as she performed the requested change. "You're going to look like a boy if you keep me cutting."

Sarina's eyes narrowed, but she kept her silence. It was her hope to look like a boy when she was done. Long minutes passed as she directed her friend's hands and her hair continued to fall onto the barn floor. She was finally satisfied; it looked uneven and blocky. It didn't look girlish.

Evia bid her friend good night, somehow knowing that it was most important to do so this night, and she hugged her older companion. "Whatever you're up to, be careful," she said.

Sarina said nothing still, and quietly went toward the farmstead. As soon as Evia was out of sight, walking toward the neighboring farmstead, Sarina turned about and reentered the barn. She dug through a small haystack, pulling forth a large burlap sack.

A young man emerged from the barn twenty minutes later and skulked to the fence by the road. His furtive movements revealed a need for secrecy that made it obvious he was up to no good.

Puerta Bonita was a largish town, larger than any Sarina had seen before. Dozens of ships were moored in her bay, their colorful banners flying proudly from their mainmasts, marking their origins and their allegiances. Their off-white sails were furled; else they hung limply across wind, with sailors busily mending them of tears and holes.

In the town, she was jostled and pressed, and she nervously scanned about herself for the merchant that she had seen in her home village of Provito. She soon saw him, by dint of his massive banner over his tent. He seemed a kind man, and had asked her father if he had any boys seeking to learn a trade. Her father, sonless, had growled at the poor merchant, and nearly chased him from the property. Geraldo DelVago was a proud man, who felt always shamed at having six children, all daughters.

Of those six, Sarina was the youngest and only one still home, the others having been married off. She was supposed to be married off, as well, in six months. The young man they had promised her to was agreeable enough, a good-looking youth named Marco. He was nice to her when they met, and polite. He was even sweet, after a fashion.

He was also typically male for the men of Costa Roja. He had certain expectations that he did not hesitate to let her know about. It was crude, she knew, for a betrothed to tell his prospective bride just how much he was going to take his liberties of her once they were wed. She had told her father, and he had simply shrugged, saying that the lad was right, even if a bit rude in saying so.

"Hello young man," said the Merchant as Sarina stood near his stall, peering at the mixed wares on his table. "Have you an interest in my goods?"

Sarina shrugged, but shook her head. "I heard from a friend you seek an apprentice." She tried to deepen her voice a bit, giving it a rougher edge than it normally had.

The merchant nodded. "Yes, I've not, like many men, been blessed with a son, and the lads I've met in Vilders all seem to wish to learn my trade in mere weeks. Have you the patience to spend a few years being a fetcher and runner in exchange for a future of some comfort?"

Sarina nodded and said, "I do." Her mind flashed to her imagined wedding with Marco, and the fact that she would never have to say those words to him now.

"What's your name then?" asked the Ghantian.

"Sarino," she said.

"Well, Sarino," said the merchant, "I'm Emilio Inremelli. If you turn out to be hard working and trustworthy, I'll keep you, if not, you'll be dropped back here as soon as I can find a Rojando-bound ship to put you on, deal?"

"Deal," Sarina said. The heavy-set merchant stuck out a meaty hand and Sarina took it, squeezing it as hard as she could and smiling. "You won't be disappointed," she said, eagerly.

"How old are you boy?" asked the merchant as he gestured for him to come around the stall to the open area behind it.

"I'm fourteen," said Sarina.

The merchant considered this carefully. "A bit of a runt for that," he said. "But, still, a merchant's skill isn't in his strong arm, is it?"

She shook her head, though her expression was questioning.

"You've got an honest face, lad," said the merchant, holding out two silver coins. "Go buy yourself something to eat and get me a bite or two, as well. I have to work to keep my trim figure, and you need meat on those bones of yours."

She gingerly took the two coins and slipped them into her belt pouch, which also held a handful of copper coins already.

"And as a bit of practice at merchanting, what you don't spend of that, you can keep," said the merchant, magnanimously.

She grinned and ran off into the crowd. The merchant was half convinced when an hour later, his new hire had not returned. However, he saw Sarino moving toward him a few minutes after he had sighed and written off his two marks. Sarino held up a small wicker basket toward him.

"What's this, fancy eating?" he asked, opening it and seeing half a dozen burritos within, stuffed with peppers, meat, beans, and cheese. "Not too good at saving the silver are you?" he asked, taking a bite of one and mmm'ing at the flavor. "These must have cost most all of it."

"No, sir," said Sarina, smiling brightly. He held up the two silver coins in a proud hand. "I had a few coins of my own, bought the ingredients with them, and made those."

"A lad who can cook, eh?" asked the Merchant. "A enviable skill, indeed. And a money saver, as well, good thinking." He patted Sarina on the head. "You may have the makings of a fine merchant."

She beamed under the praise, wincing at the heavy hand on her head, but happy nonetheless. A few hours later, she helped the merchant pack his wares onto a handcart and moved toward the docks.

"I've no ship of my own, lad, not yet," explained Emilio. "But I travel with several other merchants on the Transit Queen. We share the boat under one captain and go from port to port, spending a week or so at each."

Sarina nodded, listening closely to his accented Rojando. "You're lucky," he said, "I've two rooms and no other apprentices for you to share a cabin with."

She blinked at those words, not having thought about such matters before. She was instantly relieved that she would not have to try to hide herself in intimate confines with someone else.

They arrived at the Transit Queen. She was rather unimpressed, it was a small ship, only about forty feet long, with only an aft castle. There were a half dozen men working in the rigging as they dragged the handcart up the ramp and lashed it to the deck after covering it with an oilcloth. "Come, my boy, we'll look at your room."

She followed him belowdeck into the narrow passage. He opened a door halfway down into a large closet. Then she realized this was her cabin. "Not too bad, eh?" he asked.

Sarina forced a smile onto her lips. "Not at all, sir," she said, stepping into it and looking at the hammock folded against one wall and the small chest on the floor. These two things comprised its entire furnishing. She added her burlap sack, with two changes of clothes and a few other possessions to the decor.

A young man peered around Emilio's shoulder. "Who's that?" the lad asked, trying to get a good look at Sarina.

"That, Guisippe, is Sarino, my new apprentice," said Emilio, proudly.

"Really?" he asked, slipping under the fat man's arm and into the room. Guisippe was tall and slim with startling blue eyes. Sarina smiled timidly at him. "Hello, then, and well met."

She took his proffered hand and shook it as heartily as she could muster. The lad was good-looking and she found herself unable to speak.

"I've got to speak with the other merchants," said Emilio. "Guisippe, would you show Sarino around the ship?"

"I'd be happy to," said Guisippe, "not like there's a lot to show."

Emilio patted the boy's shoulder. "There's a good lad," he said, "and be damned if that isn't the truth."

Emilio then turned and disappeared into the passage. Sarina's eyes grew a bit larger as she turned to face the young man, a bit of fear creeping into her expression.

"Well, lets show you about, then," said Guisippe, walking out into the passage. "There's really not much to show."

She followed him down the narrow passage to a door near the aft end. He opened the door and pointed inside. "Very important, this is, the head," said the young man. He pointed to two holes that seemed to open down toward the water. "Ware high waves, they'll wet your willie if you're not careful." He chuckled at his wit and Sarina blinked for a moment as she tried to divine what he was talking about. When it came to her, she giggled helplessly, which caused Guisippe to look a bit oddly at her, but he shrugged and moved to another door.

He opened it. "This here's my room," he said. She peered inside. There were two hammocks slung from wall to wall, and one had a young man in it. He was lying there, seemingly asleep. Then she noted a movement over his middle under the blanket. "One's pride, Ruglio, you could at least stop while people are in the doorway!" said Guisippe, laughing.

The boy's eyes opened and he looked at the taller, older lad. "I was just getting to the good bit," he said. "Now go away so I can finish seducing this elven maiden."

Sarina blushed deeply at what she had just seen, but, luckily, closing the door also cut off most of the light that would have shown up her red cheeks. She still feared he would feel the heat of them in the tight passage. "Ruglio plays with his rod every chance he gets, Sarino," he said. "Just ignore him."

"At least he covered it up," she said.

A sardonic look came to Guisippe's face. "You'd think so, eh?" he said, then opened the door again. This time the lad had the covers off and was stroking his cock furiously. Sarina's eyes grew very wide indeed. It was the first man's rod she'd seen erect and among the first handful she'd seen period.

"Unless you're gonna come in here and whisper into my ear in elven," said Ruglio, hurling a pillow at the door, "get the hell out!"

Guisippe yanked the door shut as the pillow landed against it. He looked at Sarino and noted the embarrassment on the young man's face. "Oh, damn, sorry, mate," he said. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"No, it's okay, just surprising was all," she said. "I've never seen others do it before."

The older boy's face lit up with a broad smile. "Aye, but you've done it, I'll wager."

Sarina swallowed. "Yeah, of course," she said, trying to put some bravado into her rather squeaky voice. "But I do it differently," she added and immediately regretted it.

"Well, I suppose each has their own technique, no?" said Guisippe. He shrugged at the rather stunned look on the younger man's face and led him down the passage again, to yet, another door. "This is the bathing room," he said. He opened the door, and mercifully, there was no one in it. The room contained only a few buckets and several stiff bristled scrubbing brushes. On a long shelf seemed to be buckets of lardy soap. "Count your blessings when you want to bathe and you get this room to yourself," said the boy.

She nodded at that and then thought about the eventuality of her own need to bathe. She would deal with that when it came up, she was sure.

They spent a while longer below decks, with Guisippe showing her the bilge and the food locker. Then they went topside, where she had not noted the stifling air of below deck until she breathed fresh outside air again. There were six handcarts on the deck now, all lashed down and covered with oiled sailcloth. "This is good, we're setting sail now," said the young Ghantian. "You should enjoy seeing this."

The walked up atop the aft castle and stood near the helm. She watched the sailor steering the rudder back and forth, ensuring it moved freely. Poles were used to push the ship clear of the dock and breezes from ashore pushed the ship back and away from the shore. Soon, they had room enough to let out some sail and turn about.

Then the men in the rigging started dropping sail and it caught the wind, bellying the sails outward and the ship picked up speed. She felt a small wave of nausea pass through her, but not too badly and she managed to keep down her own lunch. One of the sailors caught her eye in the rigging, a woman. She moved among the ropes and pullies like a spider, dancing in the network of complex systems that made the sailing ship work.

"That's a woman," she said, pointing toward the female sailor.

"Yeah," agreed Guisippe, "that's Crazy Alicia," he said. "She's more a man than most men, if you get my meaning."

She blinked at him. "No, sorry, I don't."

The young man coughed. "Well, she likes girls," he said. Still her face showed confusion. "She likes girls in her bed."

Her eyes widened now and her mouth formed a small 'o'. "One's truth?" she asked.

"Aye," he said. "I've seen her kiss another girl, right on the mouth, with tongue."

"Wow," she said, turning to regard the lithe form in the rigging. "Pity, huh?" she asked.

He nodded. "Aye, she's not a bad looker, is she?" he replied.

Like most sailors, Alicia was dressed brightly in striped red and blue pants and a loud yellow shirt. She had bare feet, as did all the sailors. And they seemed to use their feet almost like hands, gripping ropes with their agile toes and lifting them to their hands. She even watched the woman tie a knot with her feet, dangling from another rope as she did so.

"No, she's not," said Sarina. "She's quite pretty."

The young man laughed. "Watch yourself, laddie," he said, "Alicia likes men, too, and you're pretty enough a boy what she might take a liking to you."

Again, the sense of artificial bravado rose up and she said, "And that would be bad, how?"

Guisippe blinked at that one. "I suppose it wouldn't," he said finally, then broke into a florid smile. "Let me know if it happens, I'll want all the details."

She tried to laugh like a boy should, which brought an even odder look from the older boy than did her giggle. Guisippe soon forgot it, though, as the ship settled onto a course and the riggers came down to deck.

Alicia was first to approach them, moving with an easy grace that Sarina immediately envied. "Who's this handsome lad, then?" she asked, looking at him with large hazel eyes. Sarina could not help but feel she was being appraised for auction.

"This, Lady Alicia, is Sarino. He's Emilio's apprentice," said Guisippe.

Alicia looked down at Sarina, though she was, in truth, only a few inches taller than the younger woman. She leaned close to Sarina's ear. "You know why Guisippe has no sons, don't you?" she asked in a whisper.

Sarina shook her head.

Her voice lowering a bit more still. "He's a fancy man," she said. "He doesn't much like women folk, you hear?"

Sarina immediately wondered if all Ghantians were perverts, or if it were only merchants, or the just the ones on this ship. "Tell the lad I invited you to my cabin tonight," whispered Alicia.

She leaned back, patted Sarino on the head, and walked off, her rump swaying far more than necessary for locomotion.

"What'd she say to you?" asked Guisippe, immediately.

Sarina smiled. "She invited me to her cabin tonight," she said.

"One protect you," said the older boy, then his face shifted to mock jealousy. "You lucky bastard, I've served aboard for three years, and she's not invited me."

The afternoon passed slowly, and she found she had many chores aboard the little ship. Word of her cooking skill was passed about and she was soon put to work in the galley, assisting the ship's cook, an emaciated-looking man who had eyes so large they seemed ready to pop from their sockets. He went by the name Grinder.

They were preparing supper when she asked him, "Why grinder?"

He grinned at her with what remained of his teeth. "Because I likes to grind things," he said, pointing to the meat grinder bolted to the edge of the preparation counter. "Pretty much everything, really."

Ruglio, who was on potato-peeling duty in the corner, chuckled. "Tell him about Willie," he said.

Grinder winced and looked at the boy. "Now, we'll not speak of that cretin. He insulted my cooking one time too many and was put off ship, everyone knows that."

"So says you, Grinder," said the young man, "but we had good meat for weeks after you and he had words."

Grinder shrugged. "He inspired me to cook more better," he said. "What can a soul do if the muse is upon him? Now you, get back to peeling spuds or pulling your pud. Leave the cooking to me."

Ruglio seemed to take no offense to the reference to his mastubatory habits, and smiled, in fact.

"You're a quiet one, what?" asked Grinder, eyeing her.

She looked up from her chore of chopping vegetables for the stew. "Sorry, I'm just concentrating, don't want to cut anything off, do I?" she said.

"Hell, no, lest we need something ground up for the stew, eh?" asked Ruglio from the corner, earning him another glare from the cook.

Sarina giggled at that and earned her own glare from Grinder. "You watch yourself, bucko, don't go copy-catting 'Forty Strokes', there."

She blushed slightly at the reference to Ruglio's masturbation. "I'll try not to," she said.

Ruglio harumphed from the corner. "And I was going to invite you to the roundabout tonight," he said.

She giggled again. "I fear to ask, but what's that?"

"All us lads stand in a circle and tug our poles," he said. "First to go off wins."

Sarina's face turned deep purple. An image of a dozen young men, pulling on their collective penises rather appealed to a portion of herself. She swallowed hard and said; "I think I'll keep that to myself, then."

She lay in her hammock after doping out how to climb into it without falling out the other side. It was reasonably comfortable and she soon was nearly asleep.

Her door opened a little and she saw a shape move through it in the darkened cabin and passage beyond. "Who's that?" she asked, reaching for a small knife on her hip.

"It's me," said a feminine voice. "Alicia."

She blinked as the door shut and a covered candle was unmasked, lighting the little cabin.

"I thought you were joking," said Sarina in a quiet voice.

Alicia smiled. "I was, but I wanted to talk to you anyways," she said.

Sarina slipped out of her hammock, barely maintaining her grace in doing so. "What is it?"

"You best watch yourself, young woman," said Alicia. "If I can see through you, then someone else is bound to, eventually."

The younger girl blinked, then tears welled in her eyes. "Please don't tell anyone," she begged.

"I won't lass," said Alicia. "You've got a set bigger than most of these lads just to try what you're about."

There was a scraping sound in the hall, and something of muffled conversation, followed by a slap of flesh on flesh. "We've an audience," whispered Alicia. Sarina looked toward the door with wide eyes, and fear on her face.

Alicia took a deep breath then let out a long, shuddering moan that sounded very pleased.

There was another muffled giggle outside and Alicia winked at Sarina. "One's praise, yes, give it to me harder, you fiend!" said Alicia, gently slapping her thigh with one hand in a rhythmic pattern.

It took Sarina a moment to figure out what Alicia was doing, and then her face lit up with joy at the fun and usefulness of it. Alicia rolled her hand at the younger woman, encouraging her to join in the act.

She looked confused for a moment, and then said, "Yeah, it feels so good inside you."

Alicia grinned at that. "Harder, big boy, harder!" she exclaimed, moaning between words.

Sarina grunted like a rutting pig several times, and yanked on the chain holding her hammock to the wall, causing it to jingle noisily.

Almost laughing, Alicia said, "Yes, yes, I'm almost there, just a bit more, my stallion!" Her voice rose in pitch as she wailed out a convincing climax and kicked her heels on the floor. "Oh, Serino. Damn you, you've hurt me down there," she finally said. "Hurt me again, soon, my stud."

"Whenever you want, woman," said Sarina, deepening her voice theatrically.

They sat silent a moment, and heard the scuff of feet moving off down the hall, now that the show was over. "That should hold them a few days," said Alicia. "In the meantime, you'll bathe with me, as my lover, so that they'll not bother you in there."

"As your lover?" asked Serina.

Alicia smiled at her gently. "I don't expect anything of it, lass," she said. "Lest you truly seek to offer it?" Her eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"I don't know that I like women," said Serina.

The older woman nodded. "Understandable, I'll not encourage you, then - well, much anyway." She winked at Sarina. "I'm not a saint, after all."

They spoke a while longer, and Alicia gave her the idea of stuffing a rolled sock down her pants to give her a certain lumpiness that boys had down in their nethers. She tried it out and Alicia whistled appreciatively. "Might want to try a smaller sock, lest you start picking up women in port," she said.

Sarina tried a smaller sock, and Alicia pronounced it dandy, even giving her bulge a grab, just to check for proper form. "Yeah, that'll do for it," she said.

"Gore, but you gave it to her good, did ya?" asked Guisippe over breakfast. "I heard her plum in my cabin."

"Well," said Serina, "she said it had been a while."

He nodded sagely but just chewed his bread and butter. "Still. I say you're one lucky bastard, to have gotten to lie with her on your very first night," he said.

"Have any of the other boys?" she asked, stuffing a chunk of bread into her own mouth with an attempt at equal gusto to the other boys about the mess.

"Not that I've heard," said Guisippe. "Though, I've heard she occasionally beds a sailor, to settle a bet or other times."

There was a slight scent of perfume that washed over her just before she heard the distinctly feminine voice of Alicia. "How's my big man this morning?" she asked.

"I'm fine, and you, dear?" asked Sarina, blushing at the obvious awe on Guisippe's face.

She sat down with theatrical gentleness. "A bit sore after what you put to me last night," she said. "You need to take care with that prong of yours, else you'll leave women spoiled for other men."

The look of respect and awe deepened on Guisippe's face to near worship. Sarina was likely to be severely peppered with questions later.

The three ate and chatted about ships business. Mainly where they were bound next, which was the Windy Isles, to Pigwillow.

"What an odd name for a port," said Sarina as they spoke of it.

Alicia nodded. "They're an odd lot, those Islanders," she said. "They're great folk, but a bit off, I say."

Guisippe murmured, "It's from hanging about with fey folk, I tell you," around a bite of bread.

"Might well be," said Alicia, grinning, showing her sharp canines. "I've bedded an elven lad, and it left me a bit crazy."

They finished their bread and butter, and washed it down with weak ale. "Come, lover, time to bathe," said Alicia, stroking Sarina's back suggestively. "You still owe me for hurting my woman bits last night."

"Of course," said Sarina, "I'll go gentler on you this time."

"Don't you dare!" said the older woman. "I want you to use that weapon more firmly this go round."

Once the bathing room door was shut, Alicia sat down and started to disrobe. "You better watch that one," she said, jerking her head toward the mess. "I saw those eyes you gave to that lad, if he sees it, you're liable to get beaten half to death."

Sarina began disrobing, as well, her self-consciousness at being nude only resurfacing when she saw Alicia looking at her. "Damns a pity that you don't like girls," said Alicia, smiling. "You're a lovely young woman."

The young woman smiled gently. "I've been called all sorts of thing since I donned pants," she said, "lovely isn't one of them. Thank you for the kind words, though."

They scrubbed themselves as best they could with buckets of water and then helped each other reach places less accessible, scrubbing with the hard-bristled brushes and lye soap. By the time they were done, they were pink and raw, and a bit sore, but very clean.

Surprisingly, at least to Sarina, the older woman never touched her inappropriately, which she had rather expected. Had she wished Alicia to do so? She rather feared that she had.

Sarina watched the sensual form of Alicia dress, noting that she wore clothes that rather did not flatter her form. "You do know that those stripes do not make your figure its best?" she asked.

Alicia winked at her. "I know it well, Sarino," she said. "I'd rather the lads on the ship think me just a little less than ideal, if you get my meaning. They press for my favors enough without knowing my true appearance."

As attractive as Alicia was in her sailor clothes, she was a beauty without them, lean and slender with long limbs. Sarina caught herself staring at her several times, admiring her movements and form.

The older woman pulled her tunic over herself and said, "If I didn't know better, pretty gel, I would think you smitten with me."

Sarina blushed to the color of an apple and looked away. "Oh, dear," said Alicia. "I didn't mean to embarrass you." One of her slender hands came up and caressed the young girl's cheek. "I was just joking, and see I've struck a near blow, have I not?" she asked.

A small nod from the younger girl answered her.

"Well, give yourself time to think on it, and we can always explore your thoughts later," said Alicia with a nod. "Fear not me losing interest in you."

Alicia's hand slid down Sarina's still nude back and her fingertips brushed over the younger girl's curving rump, then the touch was gone, as gently removed as it had been laid down.

For all its softness, the touch had an effect far out of proportion to the cause, sending shivers up her spine and down her legs. Her knees felt weak and her heart was now racing, thudding so hard, she would have sworn Alicia could hear it.

She hastily dressed and followed the older woman from the bathing room to many a stare from the lads of the ship, envious stares.

A half hour later the ship was a flurry of activity as they neared a port at the coming of sunset. It was Pigwillow, on the Windy Isles. A small town chock full of people from the capital of the island nation seeking wares to purchase. Pigwillow acted as a sort of shopping vacation spot to the city folk. They would come to peruse the many merchants and to frolic in the warm waters of the bay.

The small ship pulled into the port and Sarina was fascinated by the garish lights, hung in long strings of colorful lanterns. People milled on the docks and a furor arose from the throng, a background murmur louder than anything she had heard before. Music wafted across the water to the ship, some of it very odd-sounding. Very melodious and with unearthly undertones that she could not imagine hailed from a human throat.

Emilio put his meaty hand on her shoulder. "That's elvensong you hear," he said, turning his head slightly to listen to the soprano sound. "I can tell you hear it, even now, from the tears near to falling in your eyes, lad."

She looked up at him. "It's beautiful, sir," she said.

"It is that," he agreed, nodding. "The people are far more beautiful, even, though." He smiled down at her. "Watch yourself, elven lasses can steal your heart without trying."

An odd look from the young man made Emilio blink. "I see Guisippe has given you the full gossip of the ship, as well," he said. "Despite popular belief, I don't lie with men," said the old merchant. "I just don't find solace in the arms of women anymore. If and when you meet and speak to an elven girl, you will see why, I was betrothed to one, once."

Sarina blinked. "You were married to an elven maiden?" she asked.

"Not married, no, and more's the pity for my weak heart," he said. "For a year and a day, we were bound, and then she moved on."

"How cruel," she said, her heart weeping for him.

His smile turned bittersweet. "That's easy to say, but the truth of it is far subtler," he countered. "I still count myself blessed to have had that year."

The sailors were tying the ship to the warf and the gangplank was run out. "You should enjoy yourself here, lad, we'll start your real training on the morrow." His very eloquent face turned into a broad smile as he held out another two silver coins. "With these, on top of the two you already have, you should be able to enjoy quite a lot of the sights in this town this night."