A Storm at Samos
Copyright© 2004 by Smilodon
Chapter 2
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Another mystery for Cadfael. Murder, Byzantine politics and a storm at sea. A lot of story and very little sex
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Historical Slow
Dawn came to find Cadfael still pacing the deck, frantic with worry. The wind was now blowing half a gale and more canvas was out of the question. Iron grey seas marched behind them and it now needed two men on the tiller to keep the little ship on course. Even with the best will, they were still twelve hours from Samos. He rehearsed the arguments in his own mind:
Three months ago, Bohemond's treasure ship had vanished. Report placed it at Samos. Three months ago a new Port Captain arrived; a personage who appeared somewhat grander than the post merited. Time passed and then Tyros the Factor came to Alexandros by night, insisting they put to sea. The pair returned the next day. Alexandros was clearly worried and refused to tell his only child where he has been. Shortly thereafter, Tyros is murdered with an oar taken from Ariana's boat but bearing Alexandros's mark. Alexandros is taken from his home by men in the night and not seen since. The Port Captain pronounces that Alexandros is the killer and duly impounds the missing captain's ship and cargo. Both Tyros and Alexandros carried the token of Bohemond's agents. There was only one explanation for all these events and Cadfael was fearful of his reasoning.
By noon, they had reefed to a bare scrap of sail no larger than a man's cloak. The wind was urgent now, moaning through the rigging like a soul in torment. Despite the heavily reefed sail, the little ship was flying through the water and it was all that the three steersmen could do to keep her on course. Spray was being ripped from the wave-tops and flung in icy volleys over the deck. Cadfael could hear the tortured timbers groaning with the movement as each wave lifted the stern and rushed under the plummeting hull, threatening always to poop the small craft. The sailors were terrified, certain their captain had gone mad to be driving the vessel so. They were unaccustomed to see such a thunderous expression on his face, a face that was normally open and cheerful of countenance. Yet somehow, his sense of urgency had communicated itself to them and they still worked with a will to obey his sharp commands.
It was not the first time that he had weathered a storm but usually, Cadfael would order the spars struck and they would lie under bare poles with a sea-anchor streaming astern to keep the ship's head to the sea. Rain squalls added to their misery and visibility was barely a mile. Still he drove the ship onwards to Samos. During the afternoon the wind eased somewhat, as if the storm were drawing breath before unleashing its full fury anew. Cadfael took the opportunity to shake out one reef and the little ship continued its headlong rush towards his goal.
Ariana watched the gathering storm with mixed feelings. Part of her loved the wildness of it: she saw in the primordial power of the sea something that marked and confirmed her own humanity. On such days, she would often make her way to a low cliff to the east of the port and sit, wrapped in her cloak, watching the march of the waves as they hurtled shoreward to dash themselves to foamy ruin on the rocks below. She enjoyed the wild feeling of the wind in her hair, although she paid for it afterwards, combing out the snarls and tangles. This day, she felt the touch of that old excitement but it was twinned with apprehension. Cadfael had promised to waste no time in his return to Samos and she could picture his storm-tossed ship in her mind's eye, battling with the rising storm. She prayed to St Anthony that he would have a care and take no chances in his anxiety to be back with her.
Nicodemus had assured her that Cadfael was a cautious captain, and she fervently hoped that this was so. The old seaman had looked at her with something like amusement in his eyes when she had expressed her concern for the Welshman. She had been about to defend herself, to declare that she was only worried because Cadfael had become a friend but she recognised the lie before it was uttered. She was attracted to him. He was not a handsome man but there was an open honesty about him. His plain, strong features spoke of the integrity within and she had seen him look at her more than once with frank admiration in his eyes that, she knew, was not born of lust More than anything, she realised, he had some incalculable capacity to make her feel safe. It was though, she thought, she could come to no harm if he were near. That, she decided, was a rare feeling for a man to engender in her, who was so self-sufficient.
Now, standing above the seething cauldron of the sea where it battered the headland, she strained her eyes to the northeast, willing his sail to appear. Something within her craved the sanctuary of his arms and she blushed at the warm feeling conjured by imagining it. Nicodemus stood a little way off, frowning. He hailed her.
"He'll not come in this. He'll heave-to and ride it out with sea room. He'll not venture on to a lee shore."
"I know he's coming. I can feel it here."
She placed both hands between her breasts to show Nicodemus the centre of this certainty. He smiled and shook his head, as if in wonder at her.
"These ships aren't built to take such hard driving. Cadfael knows that. He'll surely take the wiser path and wait it out."
"As you say, Nicodemus. But I know he's coming."
They returned to scanning the horizon.
Cadfael, eyes rubbed red raw by the salt spray, was the first to catch the distant loom of land through a ragged hole in the lowering clouds. He guessed at the time. Without the sun by which to reckon the hours, it was all he could do. The sky behind was growing blacker by the minute and distant lightning slashed across the blackness. He figured that there were still two hours to sunset but, with the heavy cloud and driving squalls, it would be dark as night long before then. He had given no heed to what he would do once they raised the Island. Attempting the harbour was out of the question; they would be driven onto the rocks long before they could reach the shelter of the mole. Somehow, he had to bring them safe to shore.
He bellowed into the wind for the men to wear ship and alter course a little to the north. If he could weather the headland, he reasoned, they could take shelter in one of the small bays on the western side where the holding ground was good for an anchor. The ship lurched and the motion grew uneasy with the quartering sea. The ship's high freeboard took the wind and he noted that they were moving almost as fast to leeward as they were making forward. It would be a near-run thing. He heard the bosun's cry of alarm as the man saw they were being driven down towards the headland. He vaguely noticed the two cloaked figures standing at the cliff's edge and somehow he knew who they were. His heart gave a little leap but he allowed himself no time to think about her now. Their peril was all too plain.
He did the one thing that he knew was certain death and yet it seemed the only possibility. He altered course towards the point. The ship leapt forwards, wind and waves now acting in concert on sail and hull. The bosun screamed in terror, certain Cadfael meant to kill them all. He forced himself to wait as they drove down upon the rocks. Then, when he thought he left it too late, he flung his whole weight on the tiller. The ship slewed, carrying its momentum, as it swung beam-on to the sea.
On the cliff top, Nicodemus shook his head in wonder and Ariana cried out in alarm. She felt she could almost reach out and touch the plunging masthead. Then she saw what he had done. It was a mad gamble.
Cadfael felt the ship touch once and then break free. The backwash from the breaking sea had seized her and pushed her back, away from the waiting fangs of the rocks. In the seconds between that and the next incoming wave, she was round; clear of the headland and into the open expanse of the bay. Now, in the slight shelter of the cliffs, she rode easier and Cadfael grinned maniacally at the shattered crew. They were gaping at him awe-struck, scarcely able to comprehend that they were still afloat. He wiped the streaming salt water from his face and bade them see to the ship.
Half an hour later, in the last of the fading daylight, they dropped anchor in a small shingle cove. The bosun reported that one of the planks had sprung when they touched the rocks but that the damage wasn't bad. They plugged the leaking seam with canvas and pitch; it would hold well enough for the moment. Here, out of the wind, the sea was calmer. Cadfael could still see the waves piling up outside the cove but they were sheltered from the worst of it, a mere stone's throw from the gently shelving beach. A second anchor was streamed to hold them snug and Cadfael turned his mind to getting ashore. Ariana was safe; at least, she was at present. That was a greater source of relief than his own survival.
Two hours later, a dripping Cadfael changed into a borrowed tunic and laughed at Nicodemus's vigorously shaking head. The older captain swore that Cadfael had the luck of the Devil himself. Ariana, huge-eyed, smiled shyly. The three had gathered aboard Nicodemus's ship. The storm had now unleashed its full-throated madness and thunder rolled and boomed, temporarily drowning out the drumming of the rain on the deckhead. Now, dry again and warm, Cadfael felt overtaken by a feeling of lassitude. It was not unlike his reaction as a soldier after a battle. Once the frenzy and horror had subsided, there followed a sensation of sated heaviness as if the body slowed to recoup and the mind dulled to blank out what had gone before. He roused himself with difficulty.
"I think I understand much that was previously hidden. There is still more to be uncovered yet, but, with your help and God's grace, I believe we can see our way."
The other two listened in silence as he recounted his chance meeting with Antonius and all that he had learned.
"It appears to me that it fell out thus: The Scorpions brought 'The Patriarch' to a hidden anchorage hereabouts. Some of Bohemond's faction discovered the ship, or at least the whereabouts of its cargo, for I believe the ship was too well known and they probably scuttled her after unloading the cargo. Let us surmise that it was Tyros who found the treasure. He enlisted your father's aid, Ariana, in moving the cargo to a place of safety. It was then, I believe, he gave your father the token so those who came after would know him as a friend.
"I think our friend Demetrius, the new Port Captain, is at the root of it. His arrival coincides with the taking of 'The Patriarch.' When he discovered the cargo gone, he somehow learnt that Tyros was involved and had him taken. I expect that they put him to the question before killing him. They probably heard of the night voyage of the 'Star of Libya' and went looking for your father. I doubt that Tyros told them. There would have been enough idlers on hand to witness their departure or arrival.
"When they couldn't find your father, they made it look as if he had killed Tyros by taking the marked oar from your boat. Then they sat back to see who would start asking questions."
"Why not just take us and put us to the question, Cadfael?"
"So I thought, Nicodemus. But it would be passing strange to accuse us of involvement when the world knows we were at sea and nowhere near the Island at the time. The only real possibility was Ariana, and I greatly feared that they would take her while I was away. Now, Ariana, is there some place - a sea cave, a deserted house or something - somewhere within a few hours' sailing that your father and Tyros would know? If I'm right, 'tis there we'll find some answers."
"But what of my father? Where is he?"
"I believe he's safe enough for the nonce. I think it likely that Bohemond's men came for him. Either to make him safe or to secure their master's treasure. If it had been the Scorpions, we'd doubtless now be told that the murderer Alexandros had been apprehended or had died resisting his arrest."
"That sounds like reason to my ears, girl. I think Cadfael is right. The fact we've heard naught of your father speaks to me that he is safe enough for now."
Ariana looked dubious. She hoped it were so but was still consumed by worry. She forced herself to think of Cadfael's question. Was there some secret place her father knew? She cast her mind back to the hours they had spent together in the little skiff. He had spoken to her of the sea and passed to her his knowledge of the waters around Samos, his weather-lore and seamanship, his deep abiding love of the ocean in all its moods. He had told her of snug anchorages where a small craft could run for shelter in any given wind. He had shown her places where fish would run at different seasons and also where the hidden reefs lurked beneath the azure surface, waiting to rip an unwary hull. There were sea caves aplenty in the limestone rocks, both here on the Island and on the coast of Turkey, a scant handful of miles to the north, but none she knew of were especially secret. She relayed this to Cadfael who looked disappointed.
"Well then, girl," said Nicodemus, "think where a man might land a cargo by night. With just two of them, it would need to be a handy place where they could take the 'Star' close inshore. It would need to be done privily, so there should be no homes nearby. Know you such a spot?"
Ariana thought hard. She dredged her memory for steep-to beaches where the water was deep close in. There was but one on Samos that would fit that particular bill and perhaps two or three more on the mainland. Beyond these few, she was at a loss. She told the others what she could remember. Then a thought struck her. If 'The Patriot' had indeed been scuttled, there was but one place in these waters where it might be done and leave no trace. For the most part, the waters were too shallow and clear. Only to the south east of the Island was there water deep enough to hide a ship. She said as much.
"Well, then, our course seems clear enough. Cadfael, you go with Ariana and search these landings. I'll take my ship to the deep and trail an anchor to see what we might fish! As soon as this storm blows through, we'd best be about it."
"Aye. And we should send word to Ioannis. He'll want to know the 'Star has been impounded. Best also that we tell him of these Scorpions. He'll alert the other ship owners. They'll not want barratry to thrive unchecked."
"A good thought, Cadfael. Kostas came in last night and is bound for Adrianopolis with wine. I'll have him pass the word to Ioannis. He'll likely also tell the insurance men."
Cadfael nodded. He had forgotten that the Byzantine ship owners pooled their risks. If piracy and barratry were rife, those who underwrote the risks would want to know. The more men hunting down these Scorpions the better. However, it was troubling that a man such as the Port Captain should be involved. This spoke of treachery in high places; then Cadfael had to own, that would hardly be unusual in the Byzantine world. Had there not just been an attempt on the Emperor's life, inspired, it was said, by some who were close to him? He rubbed a hand through his russet curls and sighed. The greed and wickedness of men seemed omnipresent.
The storm abated somewhat during the night but it was still too rough the following day to venture out to sea in Ariana's small boat. By afternoon the seas had subsided sufficiently for Cadfael to bring his ship round to the harbour and, together with the crew, they set about repairing the sprung planking. When they had finished, dirty and tired from their efforts, Cadfael bathed and changed and went ashore. Ariana had invited him to her home to dine that evening and he had accepted with pleasure if a touch of chagrin that Nicodemus would also be there. They spent the evening pleasantly enough. Cadfael told Ariana something of his life as a soldier of the Cross and Nicodemus questioned him closely about what he knew of Count Bohemond, the King of Antioch.
"The man is a good soldier and something of an enigma. Like most of the Norman breed, he's arrogant and thinks his word to be law. For all that, he's a fair man and has a strong sense of justice. His nephew, Tancred, is also a great warrior but more given to flights of passion. There's something of the monk about Bohemond, but nothing base that I could ever see."
"An ambitious man, though?"
"That he is! 'Tis said he would make himself Emperor and re-unite the Church. That sounds to me like the man. Everything must be dressed in a higher purpose. But of those knights who took the cross, I think he, alone, was sincere in his wish to see the holy places free."
"And the rest?"
"It always appeared to me that they were in it for the plunder or the indulgences."
"Indulgences?"
"The Pope decreed absolution of all past sins for those who would take the cross. There were some whose sins weighed heavy on their souls."
"And you, Cadfael, why took you to the Crusade?"
"Young man's folly for the most part, if truth be told. Oh, I believed sincerely enough in the cause at first but it was mostly for the adventure. I could not be content with the lot of a younger son in Wales. First I hired myself to an English wool-merchant and when that life began to pall, I took the cross and became a soldier."
"How came you to the sailor's life, then?"
"Ah, Ariana, that would be a long story. Suffice it to say that the reality of following the Cross was less than I had hoped. It is one thing to risk all for that you believe in but quite another when the cause proves unworthy. I saw as much virtue among the Moors - nay, more virtue - than I could descry among our leading men, Bohemond apart. After Jerusalem fell, I called it quits and took another path. Nicodemus granted me a berth and I took to the life."
"What he doesn't tell, Ariana, is that he saved me from a gang of cutthroats. Some wharf-rats in St Simeon would have had my life in exchange for my poor purse. This Cadfael here came to my aid and despatched them. I thought him then a handy man to have at my side in a fight. I now own him as a friend and more besides."
Ariana smiled and refilled the wine cups.
"He has proved as true a friend to me, also," she said.
The next day dawned clear and calm. The remnants of the storm had blown away and only a slight chop was left to serve as a reminder. Cadfael rose early and broke his fast before repairing to the inner basin to meet Ariana and begin their search. He found her ready and waiting when he arrived. Her boat was drawn up close to the sea wall and she called him aboard. Once clear of the basin, she hoisted the little sail and the small craft skipped over the waves as she headed down to the east of the Island. Cadfael watched her handling the boat. Her skill was obvious and he enjoyed looking at her. She wore only a short tunic, clean but much patched, and he gazed with frank admiration at the fluid grace with which she moved, hard muscle under satin skin.
Before long, she eased the little vessel into a tiny cove. Cadfael looked down into the clear depths and guessed there was full five fathom under the keel even though they were but a short distance from the beach. The storm had left the shingle piled high and had scoured the water's edge, making it impossible to beach the boat. Ariana dropped a large stone anchor over the bow and turned to smile at him.
"This is the only place I know on Samos that father could have brought the 'Star' close inshore. I doubt this is the place, though. Have you marked the houses up the hill?"
Cadfael nodded; the bay was clearly overlooked and could scarcely be called secret. Still, he thought, it would be as well to look around and, hiking up his tunic, he slipped over the side and waded ashore. There was little to be seen. A steep path led away from the beach up the hill towards the houses. A couple of fishing boats had been pulled well clear of the water. It was clear the bay was much frequented. He knew this was not the place they sought and said as much. He climbed back into the boat and Ariana hauled the anchor and they put out to sea once more, heading north towards the coast of Turkey.
Meanwhile, Nicodemus had sailed to where the deep water lay. The area was plain enough; the darker blue showed clearly where the bottom fell away into some sort of seabed trench. Nicodemus was dismayed to see the deep blue patch extended for almost a league to the south and was, perhaps a quarter as wide. There was no help for it, he thought and began the laborious task of dragging a kedge back and forth over the area. It took a full sixty fathoms of rope to touch bottom. Nicodemus knew they were in for a long day.
By noon, Cadfael and Ariana had searched two more possible places. The first had proved a waste of time. It was clear it was much used by fishermen. The second had looked hopeful for a time until they had realised that it, too was overlooked, this time by a watchtower that proved to be the base of a detachment of the Emperor's soldiers. Ariana thought there was one final possibility, six or so miles to the east. She suggested they sail down that way but look for somewhere to beach on the way to cook a midday meal. Half an hour's fishing brought a plump catch and they soon spotted a deserted cove which, they saw, would offer easy landing. Ariana ran the boat up to the beach and Cadfael sprang ashore to pull the little vessel further up out of the waves. They gathered driftwood for a fire and cooked their fish in companionable silence.
The day was now hot and there was only a slight breeze to cool them. They sat for a while after eating and looked about them.
"If only the water were deeper close in, this would be the ideal sort of place for a discreet landing."
Ariana agreed. "True, but there are dozens such along this coast and a score besides on Samos."
"I fear this day is bootless. All we have done is fry our brains."
She looked at him and smiled broadly. His face, though burnt brown by the sun, was showing traces of red and he was perspiring freely, damp curls sticking to his forehead. His eyes were screwed up against the sun's glare and she thought he looked a picture of misery. For his part, Cadfael saw her cool and healthy-looking. Her flawless olive skin showed no trace of the heat and her riot of dark hair framed an oval face that cried out youth and vitality. Her clear brown eyes regarded him with ill-disguised amusement. He was forced to smile in answer. He imagined he saw something else within her gaze. It seemed to him there was a challenge lurking there behind the beguiling smile. She stood with a lithe movement and walked with a slow, hip-swinging gait to the water's edge.
"Come, Cadfael, this will cut no bait! We've one more place to search before evening."
She climbed aboard and he pushed the boat into the water, stumbling as it lurched away from him and he ended up prone in the backwash, spluttering and coughing. She laughed aloud, but without malice.
"If you could see your face! Now, get aboard before you drown. I'll warrant you're no swimmer."
Cadfael grunted and heaved himself over the gunwale. He tried to glare at her but burst out laughing instead.
"I must confess I never learned the art too well. I can float, right enough, but swimming is beyond my compass, although I've never felt the lack."
She laughed. "Then I must teach you."
They sailed down the coast with the sun behind them. The clear water sparkled and the loom of Samos in the distance looked green and inviting. Low limestone cliffs intercut by small bays passed to their left and Cadfael's mood lightened with the pure pleasure of sailing in the company of a lovely young woman. After a couple of hours, Ariana altered course towards the land. Cadfael was puzzled. He could discern no cove but the girl pressed on. It was only when they were but a stone's throw from the cliffs that he saw the entrance. A low promontory ran parallel to the shore all but hiding the cove that lay behind. From the sea, the coastline appeared to be unbroken. He felt a sudden surge of expectation; here, indeed, was a secret harbour.
They rounded the point and slipped into the calm waters of the bay. The water beneath the keel was clear as glass and he could make out a shoal of small fish darting hither and thither among the rocks below. No storm had touched this beach. A mixture of sand and shingle lay at the sea's margin. He looked about to landward but saw nothing. No houses overlooked the beach and there were no fishing craft drawn up upon the strand. Ariana drove the boat ashore and when Cadfael stepped over the side to help her pull it up the beach, he was startled to find the water rose to his shoulder. It was no small labour to climb out of the sea, so steeply did the beach shelve.
"A man could sail within bowshot and never know this place was here," he said in wonder.
"In truth, I had all but forgotten it myself. My father brought me here once years ago. He found it by chance one year when caught on a lee shore. He swore that St Anthony guided his hand that day. Had it not been for this bay, he would have been lost. He ever called it 'St Anthony's bay' thereafter."
"If they sought such a secret anchorage that night then surely this is it, Ariana."
They moved on up the beach and cast about for any sign that Tyros and Alexandros had indeed been there. The heavy rain of the storm had washed away any footprints that might have lingered in the sand. The beach was innocent of any sign of life. Low cliffs backed the sand and shingle shore without a break. No pathway showed itself and there appeared to be no egress from the beach to the interior save a dizzying scramble up the weathered rock. It was not the sort of ascent to be attempted by night and heavily burdened. Cadfael felt his spirits fall. He had been certain this was the place they were looking for but there was nowhere to be seen that a man might hide so much a bauble, much less a treasure horde.
Ariana felt his dejection. She had not voiced her thoughts but she had long doubted they would find anything. She took his hands in hers and gave him a shy smile.
"It was a brave attempt, Cadfael, and a good thought. Now we needs must think again."
He shrugged. He had been so sure that he had read it aright. Now it appeared he had been mistaken. He turned back towards the boat and stiffened.
"What's that?"
"Where?"
"There, on the headland, close to the waterline."
Ariana's gaze followed his outstretched arm and she gasped.
"It looks like a cave half under the water."
They rushed back to the boat and pushed off. Ariana seized one oar and sculled over the stern for the thirty or so yards across to the headland. She threw the stone anchor over the side and stared at the fissure in the rock. Only about six feet of it was above the water and it was so narrow that Cadfael thought even one as slim as Ariana would struggle to pass through it. However, in the clear depths they could see a large cave entrance lay just beneath the surface. He wondered how he could ever get in; as he'd told Ariana, he had never mastered the art of swimming. They same thought had obviously struck her for she chose that moment to shyly demand that he turn his back. He stared at her uncomprehending until she started to tug at the hem of her tunic. He flushed furiously and spun away. He heard a slight splash and the boat rocked slightly as she entered the water in a graceful dive. He caught a tantalising glimpse of her naked body as she slid through the cool depths into the cave.
Ariana broke surface deep within the cave and pushed the hair back out of her eyes. It took a moment or two to become accustomed to the dim light streaming through the narrow fissure. She became aware of the sheer size of the place. It stretched back thirty or so feet and was half as wide. She pulled herself up on to a shelf of rock to the right of the entrance and stared about. At first she could no sign of anything secreted within the cave but then she saw the unmistakeable shape of a Samian wine amphora. She climbed gingerly over the sharp rock and discovered five more such amphorae half hidden behind a slight outcrop of limestone. She was puzzled. Why would anyone go the trouble of hiding wine? Then she gave a start. Perched on a rock next to the earthenware vessels was the soapstone figure of a patriarch. It suddenly dawned on her that perhaps the amphorae contained something else.
She stepped gingerly over the sharp rock and tried to pull one of the giant earthenware jars upright. It was too heavy so she rolled it carefully until she could gain access to the sealed neck. The seal was covered in wax and she could make little impression on it with her bare hands. She needed a knife. Slipping back into the water, she swam out into the sunlight where Cadfael was eagerly awaiting her return.
"I found some amphorae! I need a knife."
Cadfael did his best to ignore the sight that greeted his eyes as he fumbled for his belt knife. As she reached up to take the blade, his gaze was drawn to her breasts. He looked away, colouring furiously, and handed her the knife with eyes averted. She almost laughed aloud at his obvious discomfort. At the same time, she felt a small thrill; there was something deliciously sinful in exposing herself to the young captain. She slipped back under the water and told him it was all right to look. He turned back to her, face blazing. The clear water did little to hide her body and he forced himself to keep his eyes firmly on her face.