Chapter 22

The next morning Dent, Festou, Barth and Marie's two nephew's, Horince and Baneito, were checking the warehouses near the docks. Festou and Barth were head to head whispering about some nefarious plan the two of them had hatched up. Sosho lovingly called them the evil twins and even Dent had to admit the amount of trouble the two could get into made his head hurt. Luckily the two pint sized demons were totally besotted with Nesho and Sosho, especially Sosho, so that control of the duo usually took only a few words from either.

Nesho claimed they worshiped Dent but it was, he contended, his only influence was that of fear, like the time he threatened to cut off their ears when he caught them selling tickets to see the "famous pirate killer" for tables next to them when he was eating. He had to admire the spirit of the little scamps, but knew it was best to keep one's eyes wide open around them and have a big stick handy.

"I believe this one might be just what you're looking for, Master Dent," said Horince.

"Hmm, you could be right." The warehouse they were looking at was large, in fair condition and empty. "But is it available?"

"Been empty for years," said Baneito. "You could probably get it for little more than the cost of repairs. The deGrasse owns it and his factor has an office just up the street."

"It's certainly worth asking," Dent agreed.

The warehouse was definitely available and terms with the overly anxious factor were concluded quickly. Included in the price were modifications for weapon storage and a covering of sand/sawdust mixture for the large open practice area. They would be able to occupy it within days.

The next stop was the barracks. Unsurprisingly almost all soldiers and most of the ex-Malshallian sailors opted to sign with Southern Cross Shipping as crew. Dent decided to keep the relative ranks of the marines intact for the time being and left it up to the non-commissioned officers to plan and execute the move to the new facilities. Berthing would be provided but any crewmen were welcome to find their own accommodations in town if they so chose.

Dent waited around long enough to ensure teams were assigned to move the weapons, both practice and functional, from the old Vengeance to the drill hall. Since terms for its return still hadn't been reached with the Malshall embassy Dent felt no qualms about stripping the frigate of whatever they needed.

The morning's business successfully completed, Dent left for the short walk back to the Cracked Cask. Horince and Baneito were staying behind making sure the modifications were started to specifications and the evil twins, being bored with the mundane task of preparing the facility, had run off to create havoc and discontent somewhere else in the town before Festou had to return to the Grip.

Alone with his own thoughts, Dent smiled as he thought back on the night before. The bedroom relationship between the three of them had certainly taken an abrupt and delightful turn. The three of them intertwined into combinations that Dent could only have dreamed about scant weeks earlier, and in some cases ones he couldn't have even imagined.

After their talk Nesho loosened up considerably and no longer recoiled at the touch of her daughter. Not that she initiated most of the more interesting groupings but she didn't hold back any that Dent could see. Now Sosho was an entirely different story. She was insatiable; it was the only word Dent could think of. There wasn't anything she wouldn't try or do, it seemed. She seemed to prefer Dent as her sexual partner but had no qualms about broadening her experience, especially if he was involved somehow.

The only time Nesho had even started to display some reluctance was after Dent had filled her with his cum once and Sosho dove right in and began licking their combined juices directly out of Nesho's cunt, all the while demanding Dent fuck her from the rear.

Her recalcitrance didn't last long, however, as Sosho's inexperienced tongue and lips lapped and sucked her to another orgasm. Dent was sure he saw Nesho eyeing Sosho's pretty little pussy once or twice although she didn't do anything about it that night. By the end, the three of them were not only finally sated but thoroughly exhausted!

When he returned to the Cask Sosho hurried him upstairs to measure him for his new clothes. Nesho was off working on company business so they were alone in their rooms.

"Did you enjoy yourself last night, love?" he asked as she measured his arms and chest.

"It was incredible!" she blurted putting down the measuring string for a moment. "I can't believe what it felt like, all of it!"

"Yes it was," he said smiling. "But we really should take it a bit slower, especially with certain, ah, things. This is new to all of us and some of it may take some getting used to, especially for Nesho."

"I know," she frowned slightly. "But I felt like I couldn't control myself. It was all so, oh I don't know, wonderful!"

"I agree but still we should take it a little slower. By the way, I'm curious: how did you feel when you, ah, when you were, hmm, with Nesho?"

"It was interesting," Sosho said thoughtfully. "I'd never thought about doing that before; it just seemed to be the right thing to do. What did you think about it?"

"What do you think?" he chuckled.

"I know exactly how you feel," she said reaching out and stroking his obviously hard cock through his trousers.

"I guess I can't hide it very well, can I," he replied, still smiling.

"No you can't, thank the gods!" she said untying his trousers and letting his cock pop out. "I can't believe you can still get hard today after the performance you put on last night but I think we can do something about it right now!" Without another word she began to lick the head of his cock and then sucked the first three inches into her mouth while her fingers gently stroked the exposed portion of his shaft. In a few minutes he was spewing into her mouth as she eagerly drank it down.

"Oh by the gods, that feels good, my love," he groaned as she slowly licked him clean. "Would you like me to, ah, take care of you?"

"Not needed, mighty Master," she said pushing his semi-flaccid prick back into his trousers. "I can wait until tonight, but you can take care of me then," she grinned up at him.

"That I promise, love," he reached down and picked her up and drew her in for a kiss.

"Mmm," she moaned pushing him away. "You keep that up and I won't be able to wait until tonight and I have far too much to do!"

"All right I'll take pity on you this time," he kidded. "But you'd better be ready for me tonight!"

"You know I will!"

The next few days flew by without a hitch. Other than a few more fittings Sosho required of him, Dent spent most of the time at what was now calling the Practice Hall working with what was now being called the Southern Cross Shipping Guard Contingent. As he expected the core of the group was made up of the ex-Malshallian marines plus a few extras they picked up from around town. There were even a few from the old Death Grip boarding party that had decided the life of leisure wasn't for them and rejoined. In the morning it was all Guard Contingent and in the afternoon a number of regular sailors came to practice with them.

He was pleased with the competence and willingness of the ex-Malshallian soldiers to work with and learn the new fighting techniques. If what he had seen on the Grip and the Vengeance had been examples of good fighters, then he was confident this new fighting force would be one of if not the best on the seas in short order. This was good since he had the nagging feeling they were going to be needed in the not too distant future.

Before he knew it, the day of the reception arrived.

Vel picked them up in a hired carriage. Dent wondered about that since it was only a short walk to the Putram's Palace but Vel insisted that for such an event one just couldn't arrive on foot. It just wasn't done if you expected to be taken seriously.

All three women were splendid in their new gowns and the normally reserved Marie couldn't stop gushing over Sosho's handiwork.

"She is simply a magic worker, Master Dent!" Marie prattled.

"I agree she is a little witch at times," he said teasing Sosho who was sitting next to him. She gave him a little jab in the arm but giggled and bent over to kiss his cheek.

"You must get her set up in a shop of her own," Marie continued not even hearing him. "Why after tonight every lady in Harv'el will want her to design their gowns for them. She is going to make you a fortune!"

"I've told her she can do whatever she wants. But I'm not too worried how much she can make for me; she's already worth a fortune to me as it is." That got him another kiss and a bit of snuggle time which only stopped when they pulled up at the front entrance of the palace.

Footman opened the carriage door and helped the women down. They strolled through the huge front doors, waited in the arrival line and handed a card to one of the palace slaves who announced them to the assembled company.

"Captain Torken Vel, Master of the good ship Death Grip, and escort."

"Warrior Dent and escorts."

For a while they mingled with the crowd, Dent and his women staying close to Vel and Marie. The large gathering of well dressed and obviously highly placed nobles intimidated him somewhat; he had never experienced anything like it before. For the first few minutes he was sure he would rather have been in battle against an overwhelming foe but after a while he settled down and actually began to enjoy himself. He noticed a good half of the women wore a slave mark on their forehead and even a few had salidin showing. The only men with the mark were servants passing through the crowd with trays of drinks or finger food.

After a while a number of richly-dressed men and their companions were gathered around Vel and Dent. Vel introduced them as members of the Citizens Council and he began to entertain them with stories of the Pinya's capture and the subsequent battle for the Vengeance. Many times Dent's face burned as the men guffawed and their companions squealed as the Captain continued with his only slightly exaggerated tale.

One of the men didn't seem pleased at all by the tale. Finally one of the men nearby pointed this out to the throng.

"What do you think of the story, Mr. Ambassador?"

"I find the boasting of the chance taking of one His Excellency's ships to be in extremely poor taste, if truth be known," the ambassador stated dryly.

"Hmm yes. Well, a good tale all the same," another said as the group broke up leaving Dent's group alone with the Malshallian ambassador.

"Your Honor," Vel said with a small smile as he stiffly bowed.

"At your service," Dent added with a much more formal bow.

"Oh I think you have been quite all the service Malshall needed, Warrior."

"I can assure you, sir, I only did what was needed to survive or fulfill my contract."

"Indeed. Well let us hope that form of service won't be needed in the future. Now if you will excuse me, I must take my leave. Ladies, Warrior, Captain." With that he turned his back and strode off.

"A rather rude person, wouldn't you say," muttered Nesho.

"Maybe not normally," chuckled Vel. "But I have found out a few things lately: For one, the two ships in Jeevelian waters are supposed to be under his direct orders. That means he is responsible for them so the loss of the Vengeance comes back to rest on his shoulders. I'm sure that has something to do with his foul mood."

"Is that why they are being such asses about ransoming the crew and the ship?"

"Yes. If he pays ransom, he'll have to admit they were taken."

"But it's sitting in our harbor. Isn't it a little obvious that it's been taken? It didn't come here on a goodwill tour."

"True, my fine young Warrior, but you don't understand diplomacy. Sometimes if you ignore something long enough it will go away. Don't give me that look. Just this once believe me; in politics and diplomacy even the impossible can sometimes happen. Oh I do believe our host is about to make an appearance."

They all turned and saw a slave in the Putram's livery standing just inside the door clearing his throat like he was going to make an announcement.

"Honored Citizens, Guests, His Excellency, Westel, the Putram of Jeevel!"

A vigorous round of applause greeted the Putram as he strode through the door with Tamer deBrisil right behind him. The Putram moved through the crowd greeting his various guests, his movements finally bringing him to where Dent and his group were standing.

"Ah, this must be the illustrious Captain Vel who has done so much for us," he said nodding as Vel gave him a stiffly formal bow. "And this must be his Armsman, the Warrior who, if you can credit the story, single-handedly brought down one of Malshall's mighty ships. It is indeed an honor to meet you."

"The honor is all mine, Your Excellency," Dent replied also formally bowing.