Chapter 1

The cool green water splashed up around the bow and down the sides of the merchant ship Pinya as it slowly made headway through the presently quiescent sea. The mid-afternoon sun beat down on the tiny ship as the barely perceptible breeze rippled the languishing sails.

Dent scanned the horizon with his piercing blue eyes, more out of boredom than with any expectation of seeing anything. Boredom was a constant problem on this voyage. At just over twenty seasons he was naturally a veritable fountain of energy barely kept in check by the strenuous schedule imposed by the warrior academy he had attended for the past six years. Having graduated from the school he was technically a full Warrior but was as of yet unblooded.

That will soon be taken care of, he thought to himself. The reason for undertaking this voyage was to enlist in the Putram Malshall's army. Malshall was forever quarreling with his neighbors and needed a constant stream of new Warriors to fill the ranks of his well-used cohorts. A hell of a way to make a living he mused, but infinitely better than being a common field hand. If his father, gods damn his soul, hadn't got his dumb ass killed these six seasons ago fighting over some silly tavern wench then maybe he would still be the Overseer's son destined to become an Overseer someday on one of Putram Salas' many farms.

He was lucky that his father's position earned his family a small stipend and a choice: warrior training or work in the fields. The choice was easy. As a warrior he could get killed or maimed; as a common field hand he would be subjected to brutally hard labor day after day from sadistic Overseers. He included his asshole father in that group, whose only joy in life was seeing how much pain they can inflict on those below them. A potentially quick death or a long, slow painful one. No choice. He signed the training roster the day it was offered.

Warrior training had its advantages. While a student he was granted a small stipend, not much but enough to keep his aunt and cousin alive and living comfortably if not extravagantly. Especially since his mother's sister Nesho could supplement their income by casting figures for the local merchants, helping the sick and elderly with her herb medicines and Sosho, his cousin, was a pretty fair seamstress. More than fair, he thought to himself, she's much more than "fair", damn good in fact. They didn't live like the country gentry they had been, but fairly well all things considered.

But this voyage was boring. He worked out on deck with his weighted sword and ran through his exercise routines, even sparred with the few men-at-arms the merchant carried but they were no real challenge. There was no room to run and little room to do anything else for that matter, so most of his time was spent staring at the sea and sometimes playing games with his family.

"Sail ahoy!" he heard the cry from the lookout posted up in the ship's rigging. "Two points abaft the beam, port!"

Moving to the port side of the ship he scanned the horizon to the side and slightly behind. At first he didn't see anything but suddenly he could just barely make out the small gray patch that could only be the sail of another ship hull down on the horizon. Standing there watching he could detect no motion; the small patch of gray seemed fixed at the edge of his vision.

Grunting, he tore his eyes away and slowly made his way aft and up to the rear platform that the sailors called the piloting bridge. Climbing up the he found the ship's captain standing behind a sailor manning the giant wheel used to control the ship's rudder. Sauntering over until he stood next to the two men he turned and let his eyes follow the captain's gaze to the little gray intruder.

"Company, Captain?" he asked mildly.

"Kena say, warrior," he grunted without taking his eyes off the distant piece of cloth. "Probably jest another ship happen to be going as we're. Aye, probably jest that." Turning to look up at the young man he continued, "But yea ken never know in these waters. Better to be sure than later sorry. They donna look like they be closing but maybe a little boarding practice canna hurt."

Leaning over the side of the platform he shouted down to one of the mates standing on the main deck. "Bo'sun, get the off duty crew up on deck. I wanna practice a little repel boarders for a wee bit."

Looking up at the captain and then glancing over to the sail on the horizon the mate nodded his head saying "Aye, Captain." Turning back to the main deck he bellowed, "On watch! Ring the bell to quarters! All off duty crew to attend!" Almost immediately a bell started ringing in a complex pattern. The slap of bare feet and muttered curses could be heard as the off-duty ships' crew poured out of hatches and began to form up on the main deck in more or less recognizable formations.

Turning again to look up at the young warrior the gnarled older man almost casually stated, "If we be needing it, I'm hoping you'll be helping me crew. Not that I'm thinking we be needing it, mind you, but if these be pirates we'll be fighting fer our lives. Mistake me not."

"Pirates bad around here, are they?" Dent asked.

"I dinna know if there be any 'good' pirates anywhere but around here they be especially bad. I no worry much about the true pirates. Cowardly dogs they be; show them steel and they run quick enough.

No, it's not the pirates that fret me, it's them others. Not really pirates ya see but privateers commissioned by that blackhearted devil, Jeevel. Doesn't 'ave much of a navy, see, so he loosens these dogs on peaceful traders just trying to do business. Point is they go for the loot as ye might expect, but lately they been taking the females and putting the men to the sword. Uses the women folk for their own enjoyment we hear and then sell them as slaves in that cesspool, Harv'el." Turning back to the main deck he watched as his crew lined up while short-bladed slashing swords and boarding spears were handed out.

Dent followed the captain's eyes to the deck when he noticed a familiar form exiting the forward hatch. Serenely the figure observed the crew raggedly going through their drills until those eyes caught sight of Dent up on the piloting platform. Waving, the figure started to work its way aft towards the platform casually moving through the sea of moving men like a ship over choppy waters.

"Methinks your lady wants a word with you," stated the Captain pointing to the stately woman moving aft. "Either her or her sister, I canna tell the difference between them most times."

"I believe you're correct, Captain," Dent mused as he started down the ladder. The two met just as Dent touched the main deck.

"Aunt Nesho," he said smiling, "what brings you out on deck? As you can see it's rather busy just now."

As always his eyes drank in the sight of the woman whose life and happiness had come to mean more to him than life itself. It had been ten years earlier that his mother had died, from a broken heart some said, and her younger sister Nesho, recently widowed, and her daughter Sosho had come to live with Dent and his father. Over those years, especially after his father died, Nesho had come to be the mother he could barely remember now. At times of inner honesty he had to admit his admiration and affection wasn't just from the bond of mother and son for the woman before him deserved that admiration all in her own right.

At twenty-nine seasons the Lady Nesho den Siso would have been called a beautiful woman by all but the most picky. Long dark brown hair falling well over the shoulders framing dark brown eyes and classically chiseled features and, although her skirt and day jacket were modest bordering on severe, the shape beneath was definitely well rounded and alluring. Her bosom was large but not exceptionally so; living in tight quarters he had enough opportunity to see that much for himself, her waist slender, flaring out into what he had heard described as "birthing hips." There were no children other than his younger cousin, but Dent wondered if that was due to the fever his uncle contracted after Sosho was born.

He had heard of men whose wives or women were 'barren' after such a fever but who seemed to have no trouble conceiving if they remarried or changed partners later on. He knew it bothered Nesho there were no other children but she bore it stoically like she did all other adversity. For the thousandth time Dent wondered at the incredible stupidity of his father looking elsewhere for pleasure when he should have married this woman. It was not uncommon for a widower to take his late wife's sister to wife, especially if she was also a widow. He was fairly sure that Nesho wouldn't have freely consented to such a match, but then as a woman what choice would she really have? Most would consider her lucky that her sister's husband took her in at all. For the thousandth time he hoped he had inherited nothing from that idiot except his coloration and features. She was far too good a woman for that bastard anyway.

Standing together one would have had to look very hard to see any family resemblance. Where Nesho was dark, Dent was fair; where her features were delicate and fine, his were, well to be kind, rugged. Oh he was often told he was a fine figure of a man, six feet tall, 180 pounds and build like a rock with broad shoulders and narrow hips, but he would never be called pretty. Blue green eyes, light blond, almost white hair presently tied back in a warriors knot, and a face that looked like, and had, taken it share of beatings.

It wasn't a face only a mother could love; unknowingly he had been the subject of fantasies of a number of young girls, and some not so young. Although he had his own share of fantasies, some he was ashamed of, the pressure of time and work at the school gave him no time to pursue any of them.

Looking up at him she smiled, lighting up her face and making him feel like a giant hand was squeezing his heart. Truth be known more than a few of his forbidden fantasies had involved this woman and as ashamed as it made him feel they still came unbidden and with an alarming frequency.

"We heard the alarm and wondered what it was about," she said.

"Well we've spotted a sail over yonder," he replied pointing toward the horizon. "The captain doesn't think it is any problem but is of a mind to take no chances. I was just on my way to work with the crew on their drills myself."

"Ah, well then I won't impede you any further then, my warrior. I'll just go back below and try to calm their fears. You know how these fools of women can get sometimes."

"Well I don't know about that," he said laughing, "I can't say I've been around many that I would call fools. But you might tell them this is normal drill and not to be concerned."

"I take it as a compliment that you don't think me a fool," her smile becoming even brighter and with maybe a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

"Just in your luck with a husband," he growled, "and brothers-in-law, but I fault grandfather for that. not you."

"Whatever you may say about your father," she replied, placing her hand lightly on his cheek, "he did give us a place to live when no other would. Now don't work yourself too hard. You mustn't get hurt now of all times."

"I'll be careful. Now get down below before some clod runs you over by accident." Taking her by the shoulders he turned her toward the forward hatch and gave her a light swat on the bottom. Looking over her shoulder at him he would have sworn that she wiggled her fanny at him just a little just before striding off. Whether it was his imagination or not, the effect it had on him certainly wasn't. Aunt or not he was a young man of twenty and his cock knew a beautiful woman when it saw one. Shaking his head to clear it and taking a deep breath, he turned to the drilling men and set off to do his job.

Hours latter he stepped into the tiny cabin he shared with Nesho and Sosho. He had played the part of a one-man boarding party using himself as a foil for their drills and practice. The experience did nothing to ease his unrest. Although they outnumbered him twenty to one it was his opinion that he would have had a decent chance of taking the ship by himself if the fighting had been for real and not just practice with blunted sword and spear. The alleged men-at-arms acted like they had never seen someone use both a sword and dagger together before. He could have easily blocked their blows and gutted them before they tried to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. Gods! He thought. Hopefully if they are attacked it will be a single pirate -- a blind and crippled one at that -- otherwise they might as well just hand over the wheel and save time!