“Damn it, Pat, don’t give me that. Come on, I need you, I need you here beside me.” She slipped up beside him and whispered in his ear. “The magic is still in us, the charms just hide it. We need to work it out. We can borrow Suzanne’s room later.”
Pat kept looking straight ahead, an obstinate expression across his face. Sara lost her temper, slapped him hard across the face and stormed off to the poop deck.
Suzanne was listening to Grey Fox’s report. It seemed the girls were indeed looking after the injured, doing a good job of treating the wounds too, and keeping their minds off the pain by fucking the hell out of those that could. All in all, Suzanne decided, this was a good thing, and was glad the Captain wasn’t there to hear about it.
She saw Sara’s face as she approached, and guessed the cause. She decided not to give her time to brood.
“Starr!” She called out smartly; secretly pleased at the way Sara jumped hearing her surname. “Tide is reaching a high, get than anchor out and ready men on the capstans.”
“Aye, aye Captain,” replied Sara quickly. “The Bosun is somewhat recovered, enough to take charge of the operation on the deck. I shall instruct her from here.”
“Very well. Carry on.”
In moments the jolly boat was heading out, and the Bosun was detailing crew onto the aft capstan, thanking the Captain’s foresight and insistence of having a capstan at each end of the ship. The noise brought some of the island girls out of the galley, and they all tried to help. The Bosun wasn’t at all sure, but she had difficulty in rousing enough crew to man the capstan, so didn’t object when Hinatea copied the first three sailors, grabbed a short spar and shoved it in the hole and stood possessively beside it. Several other girls did the same, all chattering with excitement.
Despite herself and her misgivings, the Bosun found she was smiling at the girls, and was silently astonished at herself. Word of what the girls had actually done, especially in wiping out two slaver ships, had passed round the boat, and she shook her head at their bravery. They seemed so young and innocent. Well, she thought ruefully, it is better to die by the hand of brave warriors than by slaver scum. She said a little prayer for her departed shipmates, and started shouting at their replacements in Belada, at which she was about as proficient as many of the Pahippian girls.
This caused shrieks of laughter. The Bosun cut it off as Sara called down to her the anchor was being dropped and she passed the hawser round the capstan twice before feeding it down to two sailors in the hold.
“Alright you horrible animals,” she shouted in Belada, getting even her crew laughing, “take the strain and let’s pull the rope in.”
The capstan turned easily as they took in the slack and the girls chattered and laughed. The hawser tightened and it became hard work, the capstan finally tightening and not budging no matter how they pushed. The girls were all silent now and sweating as they pushed. All seamen, they could understand exactly what the Bosun was trying to do.
The jolly boat returned, and its crew jumped up and joined them on the spars, Pat finding the girl next to him was Hinatea who smiled broadly and winked at him. He grinned back briefly and threw himself into the spar. The capstan creaked, the hawser became as solid as an iron bar, water spurting from it as the threads tightened, causing little rainbows along its length. The Bosun watched it critically, fearing it might break.
“Right, avast there. We’ll try putting in a tackle.”
The capstan was slowly released, and the hawser was passed through a series of pulleys, which increased the power of the pull. This took a good fifteen minutes to organise, and the sailors working the capstan rested, easing their muscles. The island girls jumped on them, checking their muscles and massaging them.
“Must keep warm,” Hinatea scolded a bemused Pat as she tested his shoulder muscles with approval, and kneaded away enthusiastically. He had another girl on the other shoulder, as did the other crewmen. He saw Billy begin to get aroused again and felt the magic straining inside him. His trousers swelled and instantly Hinatea smacked him firmly on the side of the head.
“No,” she said, “bad. Not now. Fix canoe first, then fuck. Lots of fucking, very good for you.” She smiled happily, and all the girls took up the mantra to Pat’s intense embarrassment. Billy’s too, as he also got a smack. The Bosun laughed.
She sorted the tackle and chased them back on the spars. The capstan creaked as they started it turning, moving smoothly round as they took up the slack, then braced themselves as the hawser tightened. This time more pressure was placed on the anchor, with its huge flukes buried deep in the sand, and the ship groaned and shuddered.
“Good lads,” cried the Bosun, “keep it going now. Backs into it.”
The men on their spars had turned, the spar across their shoulders and were low down to the deck, walking backwards, putting the strength of their legs into it. Hinatea copied them, shortly followed by the other girls, though Rerata was unceremoniously dragged out by the Bosun when she tried to get over Billy and push. Her indignant squeals caused everyone to laugh, and the Bosun noticed they used the laugh to give an extra push each time.
Slowly the ship eased backwards, faster as they came free and she floated away. The Bosun kept them going till they were over deeper water, dropped another hook and tightened the hawser till the ship was firm and going nowhere.
Rob, a big burly Bosun’s mate, was sent off to check the hull for damage. He stripped naked in the bows before diving over, to the delight of the island girls who flocked forward to help him. Pat found himself alone at last. Husk, easily the biggest of the soldiers, sidled up to him.
“Listen sonny, and listen well. Upset our Princess and you won’t be a pretty boy much longer. Understand?”
Pat gaped at him. “Not really. I’m not upsetting her. I’m being respectful and doing what she says.”
Abruptly, Husk’s fist flew forward, totally unexpected, from a few inches away, leaving Pat with no chance to evade as it cannoned into his face, knocking him to the deck. Pain slammed through his head and his vision blurred.
Husk’s huge hand reached down and lifted Pat effortlessly up. “I saw her slap you. You don’t upset her. Understand?”
“For fucks sake, leave me alone! I’m a royalist too. But I’m not royalty, or a fucking courtier. She should be with an officer, or a duke, not a bloody commoner like me. It’s like she just wants to have me do whatever she wants.”
Husk’s other hand slammed into his stomach and Pat bent over and retched. It was like being kicked by a horse. As the gasping stopped, Husk lifted him up to look into his face. “So do whatever she wants. Understand?”
“Bastard,” gasped Pat, “goat fucker!” He twisted in Husk’s hand, brought up both feet and lashed out, catching Husk in the stomach and face. Husk didn’t flinch, but released his shoulder and caught a foot as he fell. He bounced Pat twice on his head, then abruptly dropped him and left. As Pat groggily tried to get up, the Bosun came round the side of the cabins to check the anchor cables. She stopped short at the sight of Pat and came over, looking at him critically.
“No secrets on a ship, Pat. I’ve a damn good idea what’s just happened and why. Can’t tell you what to do, but make sure you don’t disrupt my ship.”
“Why is it my fault, Bosun? I only just found out she is the Princess. So if I do something to upset her, she slaps me and the bloody soldiers beat the shit out of me? She’s always getting upset with me. I’m just a pet to her.” He looked at the deck mournfully and kicked it.
“What do you think I am, a bloody priest? It just is your fault, because she’s the princess and you’re not. Live with it. Either you’re her pet or the soldiers will beat shit out of you. Your choice laddie.” With these happy words she left him and he wandered morosely down to put out the washing raft and clean his face.
On the poop deck Suzanne was feeling tired. She had the ship working again and slowly the crew were coming together, but they were lethargic and prone to staring into space, the soldiers as well. She and Sara had an unpleasant scene when they retrieved Rereau from the Captain’s cabin, causing the Captain to weep uncontrollably. Hinatea was despatched to retrieve a canoe and take Rereau ashore. She was delighted to do this as it was Mactravis who asked her, but she delegated the paddling duty to another girl.
Suzanne decided she would try and get some sleep, and give Sara the watch. She was in the process of handing over when they heard Hinatea squawk in outrage from the lower deck, and looking down they saw she had caught Pat trying to go into the fo’c’sle, and had gripped him by the ears while she tried to study his face. Pat was trying to break her grip and cover his face at the same time. Hinatea was shouting at him in her own language, and appeared to be cursing him. Now she shouted at one of her other girls without releasing his ears. The other girl shot off and came back shortly with the remains of one of the fruits the girls had brought on board earlier.
While Hinatea held a struggling Pat’s face, the other girl rubbed the skin of the fruit into his eye.
Suzanne and Sara looked at each other, and with mutual purpose headed down the stairs. As they got closer, they saw others coming to see what was going on and Pat was scarlet with embarrassment, still struggling to escape.
“What is going on?” Suzanne asked in Belada.
Hinatea looked up. “We fix eye. Hurting.”
Now they could see Pat’s eye, black and swollen. Sara took a sharp intake of breath, and Suzanne asked, “How did that happen?”
“Slipped,” Pat muttered, whereupon Hinatea smacked him on the head.
“Not true. Fat man hit him. Trieste see him do it.”
“Pat! Have you been fighting? With the ship in this condition? What about?” Sara was infuriated, not sure whether to be angrier with Pat for fighting or for letting Hinatea treat him, when she wanted to bathe his eye herself.
“Please,” begged a mortified Pat, “just let me go to bed and sleep it off. Alone.” He glared at a persistent Hinatea, remembering to use Belada.
Sara started to speak, but Suzanne cut her off. “Of course you can Pat. Off you go. Hinatea, leave him alone. Come, Sara.” She turned, her hand gripping Sara’s elbow tightly. Pat escaped into the fo’c’sle. She could feel Sara fuming in her grip, but said nothing till they were back on the poop and no chance of being overheard.
“You realise why Pat is injured?”
“NO! Why did you not let me go with him?”
“Because he needs to be alone to sort out his thoughts. Who do you think the fat man was, and why do you think he hit him?”
“I don’t care. I am worried about Pat.”
“The fat man will be one of the soldiers. There are a couple who fit the description, though it is muscle not fat. Those soldiers are loyal to you to the death. Did you do anything to Pat earlier?”
“Well, yes, I slapped him when he was being an idiot.”
“I guess one of the soldiers saw you.”
“You’re kidding.” Sara looked stricken as she made the connection. “Surely nobody would do something like that. What do they think I am? Do they think I would want somebody who was forced to be with me?”
“Men do strange things. They are the most illogical of creatures and can be relied upon to do something ridiculous at every opportunity. It’s a typical male reaction.”
“Oh God. What can I do?”
“Be happy. Don’t brood. Make sure nobody can think you are upset by his actions. I know it is difficult, sweetling, but it’s part of being a woman. Now, I want to hold a council of war. Round up any officers who are capable, including the Bosun.”
Sara and the Bosun were there, with Perryn and Lieutenant Mactravis. Captain Larroche and Brian were unable to make it. Taufik was there but not much use. The Second Mate was dead and the Third in bed with his wife.
“Right, first things first,” opened Suzanne. “We need to get the crew back into shape. Perryn, what’s wrong with them.”
“In essence, they have had their libido overwhelmed and brought up to a peak. All they can think about is sex. It’s particularly hard on the Captain, because it is not a subject that has been important to him, and the same for Brian. Bishop Walters is also in deep shock because he always thought he was celibate.”
“Celibate? What the fuck does that mean?” The Bosun asked.
“Ah,” stammered Perryn nervously and uneasily.
“He never had sex,” stated Suzanne calmly. “Carry on Perryn.”
“There’s a major difference between men and women. Men are just interested in sex, and the spell keeps them going far longer than normal, and able to come back for more again and again. For the women, it cements the bonds if they are already there.”
“What are you talking about?” The Bosun asked suspiciously.
“Um, the married women and those in a relationship are much more in love than previously.”
“Are you telling me I’m in love with Jim because I let him shag me? Fat bloody chance.”
“No, no, there has to have been feelings already.”
“But Maisie was with Bill instead of her hubby.”
“And who is she with now?” The Bosun subsided. “I do think that the older you are, the harder it is to recover. Umm, I want to talk with the priestess who cast the spell to find out more about it, I’ve never heard of anything like this. Exercise seems to help, though and the younger are definitely less affected.”