Chapter 9

The wardroom, or officers mess, Festou informed him as they traveled back aft, was smaller than Dent had envisioned. Through an open hatch off the passageway leading to the officers' cabins it was just large enough to hold a table and eight chairs. On one side an open window allowed food to be served from a tiny galley. There was one cook and one messman who stood ready to serve. The Captain and the other officers were already seated when he stepped into the room and came to attention as Festou announced his presence.

"This isn't a ship of the line, Warrior," the Captain said as he waved him toward an empty seat near the end of the table. Most of the men he knew already. In addition to the Captain there was Pilot Seth, the Bo'sun and a portly fellow who turned out to be the second mate. There was an empty chair to the right of the captain and Dent assumed it was reserved for the first mate now commanding the Pinya. As soon as Dent sat down the messman began serving: meat, vegetables and some sort of gravy on fine ceramic plates. When all had been served and the captain took the first bite everyone else also began.

"I've been told," Vel said between mouthfuls of food, "that a ship's Armsman is one of the ship's officers. Now like I said we're no ship of the line and don't follow the same bilgewash the navy boys do but I thought it be best if the rest of the officers got a chance to meet with you and settle their minds seeing how you're training our crew to be real fighters." There were a couple of chuckles and grumbling at that last.

"Our boys is real fighters already!" grumbled the Bo'sun. "Don't need no just-birthed babe to show 'em what to do. Just point 'um and they fight."

"What do you say to that, Warrior?" Vel laughed. "Some here think it's a waste of time and money for me to contract you. They think maybe we should dump you over the side and sell off those pretties of yours."

"Leastways we get some coin to show," muttered Brauch, the second mate.

When he saw they were looking at him expectedly waiting for some response Dent set his knife down, wiped his mouth with the dinner cloth provided and looked back at them.

"The Bo'sun is correct," he said looking directly at the man in question. "The men are fighters." The bo'sun grinned a little and the captain had a surprised look on his face.

"But," he continued, "they aren't good fighters." The grin was wiped off the bo'sun's face. He started to sputter and say something. Continuing Dent said, "They know how to fight individually, with varying expertise, but they are undisciplined and unable to fight as a coordinated unit."

Before anyone could protest, Captain Vel waved them to silence and indicated Dent should continue.

"You lost almost half your boarding party taking the Pinya." Dent forced the emotion from his voice and continued like he was an instructor at the academy, the uneasy silence coming more from the realization that the major reason for those loses was sitting at the table with them and not Vel's admonishment. "While the loss of half your trained fighters may be acceptable -- although I truly don't see how -- it reduces your defenses and restricts operations for the immediate future.

"The question being would you be able to take another ship that size or larger if you met it now or would you have to pass it by? As I understand it, you are paid from the prize money. Therefore any lost opportunity would also mean lost profit. I am also making the assumption that you are doing this for profit and not just for fun."

"Aye, you're correct there," laughed Vel. "We're doing this for profit, a great deal of profit. Two or three prizes like that ship you're from and most of the crew could retire comfortably."

"I thought as much. While the loss of any one fighter is regrettable, it is expected in battle. But the loss of half your effectives at one time can only be seen as a disaster."

"But," someone finally spoke up with what had been on everybody's mind, "the reason we lost so many was because ye killed most of them yurself! Ships don't usually carry trained warriors on them!"

"They don't? How foolish of them. I know I would if I owned those ships. If there had been another three or four warriors on the Pinya her first mate would be sitting in the Captain's chair right now." That seemed to cause them to pause.

"But the truth is," Dent continued, "with proper training and fighting correctly as a unit, I could have been taken with only minimal losses. Any three average fighters should be able to at least contain any warrior, no matter how good he is, until numbers could be brought to bear, overwhelming him. As it was your men fought bravely, but as individuals. I met them individually and singly they were not my equals."

"That may well be, Warrior." It was Pilot Seth who spoke for the first time. "But if ye had not been there our losses would have been about average."

"If that is true, and I'm sure you are correct, then I still consider those losses to be excessive. Losing a quarter instead of a half is not as great a disaster, but it's still a disaster."

"But that's the way you fight ship to ship!" one exclaimed. "Ye just don't know how to fight at sea, you lubber."

"I disagree," Dent said calmly. "Battle is battle, the medium may require a change of tactics but, land or sea, the goals are still the same."

"So how would ye reduce casualties?" It was the pilot again. Dent had the suspicion that Captain Vel set Seth up as his foil since he watched the interaction very closely.

"Tactics and strategy," replied Dent.

"The tactics I understand," Seth replied. "I watched ye today, both sessions. I can see what you're working toward. Tremendous if it works, but the fact remains that when we board a ship the crew is going to fight like hell-hounds. It's impossible not to lose men when yur enemy doesn't seem to care if they live or die."

"True," admitted Dent. "This is where strategy comes in. What is your purpose in taking these ships?"

"Prize money, of course."

"If you were just pirates that might be true," corrected Dent, "but that's only your method of payment. Isn't your purpose, the reason for your hire, to disrupt your employer's enemy's shipping? To deny him the economic benefits of that trade? To force his enemy into a position that he is not physically strong enough to do with his own forces. Putram Jeevel probably couldn't care less what actually happens to that shipping so long as Putram Malshall doesn't get its benefit."

"Well, he does get a percentage of the prize money and taxes on all slaves sold. The money from the slaves is nothing, but the prize bounty is a gold or two."

"But I'm sure not enough to offset the cost he must incur in protecting your base of operation. For if he didn't do that, I'm sure His Eminence Malshall would quickly stop your little forays by burning your port to the ground!"

"So what is your point here, Warrior?" That question came from the Captain himself.

"The point is your method of operation, taking a ship, killing most of the crew and enslaving the passengers, guarantees that they will fight you to the death. After all, what are their options? When they fight to the death it often includes your death or the death of your men. If they knew they weren't going to die if captured, then they wouldn't fight so hard, maybe not at all. If they didn't fight back as hard then your losses would decline drastically, possibly even to nothing."

"So what are we to do? Ask them politely to hand over their ship? Stop taking prisoners? Keep the captives?"

"Well, yes, something like that." The table erupted in bellowing denunciations.

"Silence!" Captain Vel yelled, pounding the table with his fist. "Enough of this! What I want to hear is how the training is progressing and just what are you doing."

For the remainder of the evening he was questioned about his training methods and the progress of various individuals in the boarding squads. But Dent noticed that during the angry denouncement of his response, the pilot and the captain had been quiet, thoughtfully looking at him with calculating eyes rather than dismissive ones.

It was after the change of the sixth watch when he finally walked back toward the bow. It was a dark night with just a sliver of moon visible, a single convoy lantern hanging high in the rigging. If he squinted he could just make out the same light shown by the Pinya as she matched their course. He walked slowly thinking about the day and what it had brought. Not too bad given the hellish situation they found themselves in.

They. That was something else again. What was going on with Sosho and Nesho? What they had done today! He tried putting it out of his mind, thinking it had really been a dream and that maybe it never happened, but the feel of Sosho's oh-so-soft hand on him and, gods! His aunt's mouth? He couldn't be sure of course, his eyes had been closed but just as he began cuming he felt... gods! He knew he should sit down and talk with both of them. Either stop this or... Or what? Or continue? To what end? To take them to bed? Is that what he wanted?

Of course it was! The mere though of their warm soft bodies, heavy full breasts, wide generous hips and then there was... Well he sure wasn't a man-lover. How could he not want them! But it was so wrong! His aunt and cousin! How could he take advantage of them like that? Or would he? Who really started it every time? It almost hurt when he thought about it. Right now all he felt was confused, and frightened, and curious, and excited...

As he pushed the curtain aside he was relieved, mostly, to see that both of the women were already in bed. Again Sosho was in the top and Nesho in the bottom. Briefly he wondered if it would be better if he slept in his trousers. It might be safer he thought, but it would also be uncomfortable and to be honest he liked the feel of warm women pressed up against his bare flesh. Besides it would be uncomfortable for her lying up against these buckles and fasteners he rationalized.

Having locked his guilt away for the time being, Dent quietly stripped off his shirt, boots and trousers hanging them carefully in the locker using just the little bit of light from the candle stub in the lantern. Leaving the candle stub to burn itself out, he moved cautiously over to the bunk, lifted the blanket and slipped into bed.

Nesho was facing the bulkhead as he slowly moved closer trying not to disturb her slumber. Finally he was far enough on the bunk so he wouldn't fall out while still not actually touching her. But he could feel the heat from her body drawing him like a moth to the flame. He was glad, mostly, that he at least had his small clothes on because if he didn't, the slight distance wouldn't have been near enough to stop his throbbing erection from stabbing her in the back. With one arm under his head and the other lying on his hip, he groaned softly hoping against hope he would be able to get to sleep soon.

Suddenly she moved back against him pressing him into her back. His arm instinctively went around her waist hugging her as she wriggled herself back into him.

"Everything all right?" she mumbled as he moved the arm from under his own head placing it under hers.

"Ah, y-yes," he stuttered wondering if she could feel his raging hard-on as it pressed into the crack between her ass cheeks. "Everything's fine."

"Is it?" she said as she rolled slightly into him. Wiggling her ass forced his cock even deeper into her crack. It felt like his small clothes and her thin shift were barely there.

"Feels like someone is going to have a hard time getting to sleep tonight."

He didn't have to wonder anymore. He could almost hear the laughter in her voice.

Rolling like a boneless minx within his grasp, Nesho ended up face to face with him. It was dark enough they couldn't actually see each other except for general outlines, but he could feel her nose next to his and almost taste her lips as they hovered, almost touching. Her hand reached down between them moving down his stomach until it finally rested on his fully erect cock, gently tracing its outline through the folds of his small clothes.

"We shouldn't be doing this?" not quite a statement nor really a question.

"Do you want me to stop?" she whispered.

"N-no," he gasped.

"Neither do I," she whispered back.

He could feel her lips moving next to his and by tilting his head ever so slightly their lips brushed together, lightly, so softly it was almost like brushing up against nothing. Featherlight, their lips brushed together, back and forth. Then she moved and their kiss was no longer soft and gentle but lips crushing against each other. Nesho groaned into his mouth and he suddenly felt her tongue touching his lips, forcing its way between them and into his mouth. His tongue responded instinctively, entwining with hers, dancing together. Hers withdrew and his pursued; now he was thrusting his tongue into her, tasting her, exploring her.

While their tongues explored each other, their hands were also moving with a will of their own. His caressed her back down to her hip and over to lightly stroke her buttocks. Even through the sheer shift he could feel her smoothness, how soft and pliable she was. Reaching down he pulled the shift up until it was over her buttocks leaving it bare to his touch. Groaning again she wriggled back away from him and in a single deft movement the shift was over her head and tossed to the deck next to the bunk. Kneeling, she began tugging his small clothes down to his ankles where he finally kicked them free.

They were naked. In the dim glow of the stubby candle he could see her still kneeling over him, her pendulous breasts hanging down seeming to grow as they swung free. Hand shaking he reached out to softly caress one magnificent orb. She hissed as his hand stroked gently down its side until fingers rubbed over the engorged nipple. Carefully moving so as not to break contact she stretched out next to him, somewhat on her back but still slightly turned toward him. Reaching up, her hand enclosed his and pressed him firmly into her breast indicating she wanted more than just a light touch. He accommodated her, squeezing firmly but not hard enough, he hoped, to hurt. She rewarded him with another hiss of pleasure.

It was the first time he had ever held the breast of a grown woman in his hand. He wasn't completely inexperienced; there had been a few young ladies he had the pleasure of being with in the dark corners of a park. Kissing and fondling mostly, two even allowing his hand under their tunics for a quick feel of their small firm breasts. But nothing prepared him for this!

Nesho's breast was huge and soft compared to their small firm tits. Its nipple, the size of the end of his little finger, was standing upright in excitement almost a half inch in length. Without conscious thought, he bent over and sucked the nub into his mouth causing her to writhe and moan, her hand seeking the back of his head pulling him in even tighter.

Firmly attached by the suction of his mouth, he released his hand from her tit and eagerly explored her naked body. Down over her stomach with its slight and oh-so-sexy layer of softening fat, over the hips and down the slim muscular legs to her knees until he exceeded his reach. Back up the other leg at which time she rolled even farther onto her back and slightly spread her legs giving him access to her inner thighs.

His caress slowed as his fingers traveled over her incredibly smooth skin. As he sucked, he also used his teeth to softly nip at her distended nipple and the surrounding area. He could hear her breath become ragged even as her fingers grasped the hair on the back of his head keeping him firmly locked to her magnificent tit.

The slow upward movement of his fingers stopped as they approached the vee of her legs and he could just barely feel the soft downy pubic hair covering her sex. Suddenly her legs parted even farther and her other hand quickly moved to cover his.

He froze thinking he had crossed some invisible line, fearing he had gone too far. But instead of pushing him away she gently but firmly pulled his hand up until it fully covered her pubic mound. He felt her hips thrust slightly, forcing her mons up and against his hand. Her moaning was almost a whimper now, a soft crying. He began to gently rub her with a circular motion as she thrust even harder and more vehemently against him. He pressed down more firmly causing the whimpering moans to become even louder. He could feel the wet, slippery lips of her vagina under his fingers and began to delicately trace them with his fingertips.

As he did this she grasped his hand tightly and forced it down until two of his fingers actually slipped past the outer lips and into her cunt. Without warning her legs came together trapping him, the fingers of her other hand clenching his hair hard enough to actually hurt. He could hear her stifle a scream as her body shook next to him. He was terrified that he had caused her to go into some kind of fit, but she was holding him with such hysterical strength he couldn't move even if he wanted to.