Page 9

Redemption

T he captain stripped me, silently and efficiently, and put me into his bed. I fisted my hands to protect my palms and also to show my resistance to these circumstances. I didn’t feel I deserved this kind of treatment.

Once I found myself underneath the soft blankets on the captain’s bed, and the exhaustion of everything I’d been through caught up to me, I drifted into blessed unconsciousness as the Arrow swayed gently beneath me.

I woke to the sound of gulls shrieking outside the window and the dawn of a new day. When I raised a hand to my head, I felt the linen bandage and remembered what had transpired. Instantly, a cloud as thick and black as the one that had engulfed the attacking ship the day before enveloped me, and I rolled over, hoping to fall back into unconsciousness.

But Captain Martin had seen me open my eyes.

“Rooster, darling. I know you’re awake.”

His voice sounded close by, the puff of his breath tickling my ear.

I didn’t respond.

He sighed and I blinked back tears. I couldn’t get the fucking image of the maelstrom that had engulfed the ship the day before out of my head.

That storm, or spell, or summoning, had been my doing. And I’d killed so many people. I’d almost killed Captain Martin!

“Rooster, I want you to listen to me. And know that I am speaking as Dinesh Martin, captain of the Arrow , and also as Captain Martin, seducer and ravisher of Mr Simon Bartholomew White.”

He waited and I could not stop myself from answering. He was the captain, after all.

“Yes, Captain,” I whispered.

“I don’t know exactly what happened yesterday. I’m not sure that you do either, although you appear convinced that the sudden and specific storm came from your hands.”

Tears tracked down my cheeks. I nodded.

“Nobody on this ship is displeased with you. The crew is wary, yes, the way any inexplicable phenomena makes men uneasy. But they are also very thankful, Rooster.”

“Donatello,” I croaked.

“Yes. We lost Donatello, and I won’t forget the pain of that. At least he went quickly,” Captain Martin said. “I’ve put Hillier in charge of things, if that makes a difference to you.”

I didn’t respond, recalling the image of Donatello being shot. That shocking occurrence had ignited the flame in my chest, and I felt a remnant of that heat stirring now. But I took deep, calming breaths, as I’d learned to do years and years ago, to keep the dark magic as a glowing ember instead of a raging inferno.

I hadn’t known Donatello in an intimate way, but I had known him to be a fair and diplomatic man. We had been friends, I think.

The captain kept talking. He stayed close but he didn’t touch me.

Perhaps he was wary, too, and the thought distressed me. He needn’t be. I’d as soon call a storm down on myself than hurt a hair on his head.

“Do you know, little rooster, that—traditionally—the fellow who is first to spy a ship on the horizon gets its finest booty?”

I didn’t say anything, wondering where he was going with this line of conversation.

“Now, the only thing of value that survived our…encounter…is laying in this bed beside you. But I want to tell you that he’s yours, if you’ll have him.”

The tears I’d managed to hold back returned, and I sobbed into the pillow.

“Oh, Rooster. Don’t you see? We’d all be dead if you hadn’t gotten up and looked over the rail. We’re all alive because of you.”

And now he did touch me. I felt the warmth of his palm on my shoulder, soothing me, and I didn’t pull away. Soft kisses feathered along my shoulder blades, even as I sobbed and sniffled. I didn’t deserve him, but I clutched onto those words and this kind treatment like a man adrift in a bottomless sea. I had been the one to alert the crew to the attacking ship. And the captain was right. We’d all have been lost if I hadn’t.

That truth eased some of the pain in my heart.

“Come now. Turn and look at me,” he said.

I forced myself to face him. I’m sure my eyes were swollen and red, my lips slack and ugly. But the captain’s smile and the look of adoration in his eyes was better than any healing balm the doc could prescribe.

“There he is. There’s my sweet rooster.”

I didn’t think anyone except my late mam, bless her heart, had ever called me ‘sweet’ because, normally, I wasn’t. I was argumentative and a bit of an ass. But I’d take such coddling today. I’d take indulgence any day from Captain Martin.

He sobered and tucked a piece of wayward hair off my forehead.

“Listen to me and listen well,” he said, speaking as a captain now. “Whatever happened out there at the rail is the reason I’m here right now. I don’t know how, or why, but that storm never touched me. And if that—” He seemed to cast about for the appropriate word for the violence of the phenomenon. “—tempest…did somehow come from you, Rooster, you saved us all a second time.”

The magic I’d summoned hadn’t touched him? Those words gave me profound relief.

“Truly? You were safe the entire time I was—” I stammered, not wanting to say ‘while I was killing them all’. “During the storm?”

“I was,” he said.

Tears threatened again. “I thought… I thought I’d—”

“You thought you’d harmed me. But you didn’t. You saved me, Simon White, and I shall forever be in your debt,” he said, stroking my chin. “You saved the Arrow and her crew too. Those nasty vermin were out for blood, and whatever booty we had aboard.”

The relief those words brought was a soothing balm to my rattled and fearful soul. For the first time since the incident had unfolded, I thought that perhaps I’d done the right thing, even if I wasn’t sure exactly how.

The captain smiled, then appeared puzzled. He continued to speak in low tones.

“I felt wrapped in an invisible shield of some kind, seeing the lightning and the flames around me, watching the crew of that ship perish before my eyes. And then I was in the water.” He narrowed his eyes. “And then I saw you, Rooster, standing at the rail, with a fierce and determined look on your dear face, surrounded by blue flames with orange ones shooting from under your hands.” He frowned. “Your hands. Let me see.”

I lifted them, palms up. The linen bandages looked clean and white, even against my pale skin.

“May I?” he asked, his fingers going to the knot on one of them.

I nodded.

As the captain carefully untied the knot, I realized there was no longer any pain from the wounds. And as he drew the cloth away, we both blinked in surprise.

The skin was reddened somewhat, but smooth. The blisters had disappeared. There was no sign they’d ever been there. The recently scalded skin looked better than the healed scar on my side and back that was ten years old.

I met his confused gaze with my own. Then he quickly untied the bandage on my other hand. He held them together in front of him, gaping at the healed skin.

“Faraday told me your hands looked like raw meat last night,” he whispered, meeting my gaze again. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” I said. “I don’t know why they don’t still.”

“Is there any pain?”

“No.”

He moved the pads of his thumbs over my palms, very lightly. “Now?”

“No. The skin is sensitive, that’s all.”

“Well. There is some kind of magic at work here.” He was silent, still holding my hands. “Would you like to tell me what kind of supernatural forces I’m dealing with, Rooster? If you even know?”

His voice was kind, as if he were asking me about a regular occurrence, and not my questionable ability to call upon powers beyond nature.

So I told him what I did know.

“My mam told me that these powers were a gift from her. She didn’t know why, and she didn’t really understand her powers either. But she said she could feel them in me as soon as I was born, even though she was in denial for a long time. She didn’t teach me anything, only subtly guided me when she saw glimpses of…these forces…rising in me. She wanted me to keep them hidden. From everyone, but especially from my papa.”

I stared at the bed covers. I didn’t like to think about these things. Most of the time, I pretended I was a regular man, albeit with questionable morals and even more questionable desires. But flesh and blood like anyone else. I didn’t like to think of myself as different, and to be honest, these inexplicable powers frightened me. I didn’t like to think I had so much influence on the world.

“Rooster, what happened when you were twelve?” Dinesh asked.

I’d known this question was coming. Why wouldn’t he ask the most obvious question?

I took a deep breath and explained in the smallest number of words possible. “I tried to save my mother, but I wasn’t able to.”

The captain’s face fell. “Oh, Rooster. I’m so sorry.”

I nodded. “The power got away from me. The burn on my side was the least of what happened.”

Captain Martin looked horrified. “But…you didn’t—”

“My father was not a kind man. And he was afraid of her powers. He drugged her and killed her whilst she slept. When I woke to the horror, I couldn’t hold onto my rage. The whole cottage, with her body and him in it, was destroyed, and I barely escaped.”

“My God,” Captain Martin said, his expression one of utmost sympathy.

“I’ve survived, somehow, on my wits ever since. I thought, maybe, the powers in me had died with her and my father. But it appears not.”

“No,” he agreed with solemnity. “It seems not.”

I gently pulled my hands away and let them fall to my lap.

“Are you…are you going to tell the crew?”

“Tell them what?”

“That I’m a witch?” I asked, my voice barely audible. ‘Witch’ was the only word that made any sense.

“Is that what you are, Rooster?” the captain asked without fear or blame or anything but a casual curiosity.

I nodded with a sad smile.

“Among other things,” I said, reaching out to touch the captain’s whiskered chin.

“You mean, a sodomite and a very, very naughty young man?” he asked with real affection.

“Quite. But not so little,” I said, glancing down at my swollen cock making a tent in the sheets that had come to take part in the conversation.

“No. Not little. And a very sexy fucking witch.”

I loved him for that. For implying that my strange and mysterious abilities only served to make me more interesting.

“Are you sure the crew doesn’t hate me? They must have been terrified to see what happened.”

Captain Martin considered. “I won’t say they weren’t. But these men have been through more than you’ll ever know. It takes much to truly frighten them. And they are well aware that they wouldn’t be here today but for you, Rooster.”

I nodded. “Well, that’s promising.” I thought of the circumstances of our ambush. “Are you going to punish the men on the night watch?”

The captain gazed at me with kindness, perhaps that I’d think of others when I myself suffered.

“I made sure they understood the gravity of their mistake. But I think in all of the chaos and confusion, and because we only—” He cleared his throat and seemed overcome for a second. “—only lost one man, the crew is willing to forgive them. And so am I.”

For some reason, that made me feel better, even though their actions had put us all in a vulnerable position.

“But how should I behave now that they know my secret?”

“Honestly? Just as normal would be best, I wager.” He grinned and chucked me under the chin. “Go back to being the saucy little wise-cracking brat that you are, and they’ll settle down and forget all the strangeness. These men are used to the changeable nature of the weather and the seas. Yes, they are superstitious, but they won’t look lightly on the fact that you’ve saved us from certain death. And,” he said, leaning in and kissing the tip of my nose. “Not to be incredibly vain, but they like me rather a lot. And you, somehow, protected me from…well—” He waved his hands around. “—from our bad luck. So I think you’ll find yourself in high esteem among the crew if you can settle their minds that you’re not about to bring a similar storm down on top of us.”

His words were indeed a comfort. Except for one small thing.

“But, Captain, there will be a storm at some point, won’t there?”

“Yes, I’m certain of it.” He didn’t look perturbed.

“Won’t they think I summoned my magic again?”

He gazed at me with the gentlest affection. “Simon, the tempest that demolished our enemy was not a regular storm. Trust me. They know that. These men are familiar with terrifying acts of nature, but they’ve not seen anything like what you created in that moment. I think you’re safe from being accused of anything else.”

“Good,” I said. “Only, I can’t promise that what happened up there won’t happen again. When someone I love is threatened, the force rises on its own and I have no control over my power.”

I soon realized what I’d said and cleared my throat. Step back, step back .

“What I mean to say is, someone I like a great deal .”

Distract.

“And I like you very much, Dinesh,” I finished.

“I like you very much too, Rooster. And I do owe you a great reward for saving our lives.”

“It don’t feel right to get a reward for what happened.” I said in barely audible tones.

He leaned in, and the scent of his expensive Castile soap that held so many memories just about undid me.

“Pardon?”

“I don’t know if I deserve a reward. I put all of your lives in danger.”

“I’m done arguing this point, Rooster. Would you simply let me show you how I feel about you?”

I gazed at him, lost to those authoritative and luminous gray eyes. They were the colour of storm clouds, and they could see into my tumultuous soul. I had a connection to storms, you see.

I didn’t know why my powers—or whatever they were—manifested that way, and I was rattled by what had happened. I could only hope that another ten years might pass before anything similar occurred, or that the magic would lie dormant in me forever.

But a privateer’s life was a risky one, and I had a sense that if Captain Martin’s life were endangered going forward, I would do whatever I had to do. I wasn’t looking forward to any of it.

For now, he was safe, and so was I. How could I possibly stop him from kissing my face and my neck, my chest, the edge of the original burn, and then swallowing my cock whilst he held my gaze and blinked softly, like a cat drinking milk.

And milk indeed resulted, which I gave up in no time at all, since the vulnerability of the act, the generally excited state of my mind and body, and the skill with which he handled me, took away all of my defences. He kept me in his mouth until I became a boneless bag of skin, the tension that had held me in its deathly grip gone in a gentle overpowering that had needed no violence or restraint. I drifted on soft clouds until someone knocked at the door.

Captain Martin let my cock slide from his mouth. He gave me a pretty smile before lifting his head and gazing toward the door.

“Busy! Come back later.”

He turned back with an impish smile that made him look like a troublemaking child.

“I’ve got a present for White!” said a voice that I recognized as Hillier’s. “From the crew.”

“Does he need the gift this moment ?” Captain Martin asked, sounding annoyed.

“I’ve been tasked with delivering it, Captain, and I don’t want to delay.”

Captain Martin rolled his eyes and backed off, pulling the sheet and blankets to cover me. I was so relaxed, so content, and so relieved that I wasn’t being tossed overboard that I remained on my back and watched him pull on a pair of breeches and walk to the door.

He opened it a crack.

“Well? What is this thoughtful token?” he asked. “Oh!”

The captain’s laughter rang out, but Hillier shushed him.

I went up on my elbow, but I couldn’t see past the captain’s broad back. What on earth had Hillier brought me? The captain opened the door wider and stepped back. My eyes went wide as Hillier came in with a chicken tucked under each arm. And they were not dead.

“Your chooks were missin’ you, young Simon,” he said, coming in and putting them onto the bed with me. “The crew thought they might cheer you.”

“Frances!” I exclaimed, jerking upright and spreading my arms, feeling such a weight lift from me that I could barely keep from laughing with joy. “Elizabeth!”

“I thought you might like to see a couple of them.”

The chickens landed on the blankets, clucking and fussing as they wondered where they were. I saw the captain and Hillier exchange amused looks.

“Thank you, Hillier,” Captain Martin said. “Please tell the crew they were well-received.”

“You’re welcome, Captain. How is he?”

I didn’t listen to the captain’s answer, because I was too busy hugging and petting my pretty chickens. What a comfort to see them! I didn’t know when I’d become this attached to livestock, but I supposed once you’d named them, you were done for.

“Come here, my pretty things. Aren’t you gorgeous, Elizabeth? And Frances, your tail feathers are turning a lovely shade of russet!”

“I’ll leave you be,” Hillier said. “Only, the crew were wondering where we’re planning to sail to. They feel we need another conquest to replenish our stores.”

“Yes, I agree. Put our destination to a vote. See what they want to do, where they want to go. And we’ll abide by that.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“And please don’t disturb me again unless the situation is urgent.”

“Of course, sir,” Hillier said and left us.

“Oh, you are such a pretty girl,” I murmured to Frances, smoothing her ruffled feathers with my fingers. “What a good girl.”

The captain stood there in his breeches, his arms crossed over his chest, watching me talk to my girls. I praised them and cooed to them, like a proud parent, and did feel much recovered. The crew had provided me a welcome solace.

“So, who shall we have for our dinner, then?” the captain muttered.

“You’ll not touch a feather on them if you know what’s good for you. And neither shall anyone else,” I said, giving him a steely eyed glare. I was almost certain he was fooling, but just in case…

But he only smiled. “There’s my feisty rooster. He’s back, thank the Gods.”

I clutched Elizabeth and Frances to me. “Yes, I am, and you keep your bloody murder hands off my chooks.”

He held up his arms, trying not to laugh.

“I don’t want any part of your chickens. I won’t harm them. But they cannot stay here.”

I shrugged, indicating that I wasn’t in any rush to get rid of them.

“Well, I wager you’ve never had three such attractive guests in your bed at once, Captain Martin,” I said with some smugness.

He actually blushed. “I’ve never entertained animals below the level of humans; that’s a certain fact. However, there’s a reason I keep such a large bed in my quarters.”

I gasped. “Captain Martin! You fucking trollop.”

He looked even more sheepish. “Guilty, as charged. But entertaining multiple partners on board gets a bit tricky when they are also your crew.”

“I suppose so,” I said.

“I’m happy to have one very lovely man on my bed, even if he comes with two rather scruffy-looking chooks.”

I was pleased to hear the first part of that sentence, but moved to cover the ears of the chickens.

“How dare you. They aren’t scruffy looking. Or if they are, it’s because chickens weren’t ever meant to live on the water.”

“Granted. Perhaps we’d better put them out of their misery.”

“No, stop that nonsense. Come over here and meet them properly,” I demanded.

The captain indulged me, happy to see my mood improved, I suppose.

“Now, here, this is Elizabeth,” I said, passing him the golden-brown chicken that chirped at the sudden movement. “Elizabeth, this is Captain Martin. He’s responsible for the Arrow , and he’s got an enormous cock. He likes to ram me with it, and I don’t mind at all.”

“Hello, Elizabeth,” Captain Martin said, reaching out with a tentative hand to stroke her. “Will she bite?”

“Well, she’s never bitten me .”

He didn’t look reassured. But he made an attempt at friendship that was amusing to watch. “My, you are a pretty thing…Elizabeth,” he said, acting like a reluctant uncle who’d had a baby passed to him.

“And this lovely russet beauty is Frances.”

Captain Martin accepted delivery of the other chicken into his lap. Frances made hilarious clucking noises as if she was as excited as I would be to sit on Captain Martin’s broad thighs.

“Lovely to make your noisy acquaintance, I’m sure,” Captain Martin said, glancing up with a long-suffering look, as if he’d never had to deal with this sort of indignity in his life but would, in this moment, for me.

“Now, then, give her a kiss,” I suggested, taking Elizabeth back and planting a soft peck on top of her tiny head.

“I’m not going to kiss her, Simon. She’s lovely, but I don’t fancy a feather in my mouth.”

“Well, you aren’t very adventurous, are you? I’ll have you know there are a good many interesting things that can be done with feathers.”