“So, at your word we lay with these strange, unknown men and killed them, and you were wrong? They are not enemies? The gods were wrong? The gods have been wrong for many seasons! And now these people will kill us for killing their people without reason.”
Rereau looked at her sadly. “Yes, Hinatea, best of our warriors, I was wrong. I was wrong to think these people were Umayyads; that only Umayyads would come here. The gods were wrong to not tell me they were coming. Maybe we have not followed their wishes correctly, and they have forsaken us. These people have different gods, maybe stronger gods, and maybe our gods are frightened of their gods. I don’t know. I do know that they are strong, much stronger than us and much stronger than the Umayyads, and they will protect us.”
“So now you give us to slavery of these pasty, uncooked people instead of to the filth, the defilers? That is our punishment for killing them? We, who killed the Umayyad and now these people, are to be punished by going tied into slavery? And you? Will you escape and we are your price?”
Rereau sighed, knowing that Hinatea was the one she must convince and the others would follow her lead. But she had never managed to relate to Hinatea, who seemed to be more a man than a woman and gloried in the hunt and the kill.
“Hinatea, they will not enslave us. They hate slavers, and they will hunt the Umayyads down for themselves, not for us. They are angry at us for killing them. But the leader accepts it was a mistake, an honest mistake. As reparation, they are taking over us, our people and our land. We are becoming part of them. But they offer us something we had not dreamed could happen. Husbands! They will bring us men, Hinatea, strong men to father strong babies, who will live on this island. They are going to bring new things to us and protect us.”
Hinatea subsided, knowing she had lost. Indeed, she too thrilled at the word ‘husband’, and sensed all the other girls straining to look at the men of the crew. The girls had grown up knowing little of men, sharing the scant few left on the islands, and the thought of one for yourself, alone... She questioned herself. Lost? She had lost nothing. Instead it was Rereau who had lost, Rereau’s gods was false. She, Hinatea, had just stopped following her.
“Hinatea!” Rereau called urgently. “Will you stop killing these people?”
Hinatea rolled onto her back and sat up; lithely rose to her feet, holding out her bound wrists to the white man standing beside Rereau, while at the same time pushing herself forward in a blatantly sexual way.
“Why would I kill them, False Priestess? They have penises, and that we lack. Tell him to release me and I will take him to paradise.”
“Hinatea! Do not play with words with me! Take your oath in the face of the Gods that you will not kill these men!”
Hinatea looked at Rereau, her face blank. “I will not kill them. I will learn their ways and grow strong in their society. I will find their heroes and I will fuck them. The best of them I will let him give me babies. This I give you my word on my honour, but on your weak and faithless gods, I will not speak.”
Rereau inhaled in anger, and a deep sigh went up from the girls. For a moment Rereau was tempted to withhold release.
Sara watched Rereau talking to the girls, and felt for her through the altercation with the tall, pretty girl, for whom she developed an instant dislike. She watched the power play, and saw Rereau lose all the girls, then to her amazement Rereau told Strachan to untie the girls. She left them and climbed heavily back up to the poop deck.
“That didn’t seem to go well?”
“Oh, is fine for you. But they unhappy with gods. Say your gods are stronger.”
“Ah.” Wisely, Sara said nothing to this, just embraced Rereau who sobbed briefly on her shoulder, then pulled herself together.
“In truth, is long ago that our gods deserted us. But I still love them. Is that wrong?”
“Not at all. And I promise you, I will build you a temple to honour your gods, and you will remain their priestess. And your children can follow you.”
Rereau’s eyes filled with tears, but before she could speak there was a ruckus from the cabins, and Captain Larroche appeared on deck, looking extremely worse for wear. He looked around wildly, and his glance fell on Rereau and he rushed over.
“There you are! Are you alright? I awoke and you were gone! Come, my love, come to my cabin.” He spoke in Harrheinian, grabbed her hand and started to pull her towards the cabin.
Rereau didn’t need to speak Harrhein to understand his intention, and allowed herself to be pulled along, raising an eyebrow to Sara as she went. “The magic still in me, I feel it. Must get rid. Is all right.”
Sara felt an answering tingle in her groin and looked over at Pat, who was still unconscious. She clamped down hard on herself and thrust her hand into a pocket to hold her charm.
Strachan was having a hard time releasing the girls. They all clustered close around him, the tall one’s hip jostled him with every movement and every time he leaned forward to cut rope, she leaned with him to help hold the hands which caused her bare breasts to run along the back of his wrist. He could barely walk for the swelling, the magic drumming in his blood, the sweat beading on his brow and he kept plunging his hand into his pocket to grasp his charm. Finally he dragged it out and held it between his teeth, which helped, though he nearly cut one poor girl’s hand off when Hinatea’s erect nipple flicked his elbow and she managed to catch his eyes with hers.
Lieutenant Mactravis came to his rescue by calling him to the poop deck, and he left the girls to release the last of their friends despite being almost overcome by a cunning, hidden farewell squeeze from Hinatea which made it difficult to mount the stairs.
Hinatea watched him go with a smile, having enjoyed the game. It had brought the magic back with a vengeance though, and she blinked slowly at the warm pleasurable feeling coursing through her veins.
“What do we do now, Hinatea?” Monata asked.
“I know what I want to do,” she smiled, “and I am sure you all want the same. But best we make friends first. They will be upset with us as they recover. What did they do with the wounded?”
“Through that door there,” pointed one of the girls.
“Well, let’s go and make them better. Maybe some are well enough to make us better.”
As they headed off towards the galley, Hinatea saw Pat in the corner of the poop deck, and peeled off, telling the others to keep going. She grabbed a rope and swung up, climbing quickly over the rail and dropping beside Pat.
Gently she rolled him onto his back and his eyes fluttered. As his face appeared, something strange raced through her, an emotion causing her breath to become short and her heart to beat fast. Perplexed, one hand stroked his brow as he looked up at her, and with the other she checked for injury, when she felt something coming at her and whirled around, ready to take the figure lunging at her. It braked to a stop at her readiness, and she saw it was the girl who had been speaking, with the funny hair, normal at the end but red at the base. The one Rereau said was a princess. She was angry and shouted at her.
Hinatea moved protectively between the girl and Pat and the girl’s eyes narrowed.
“Get away from him!” she grated in Belada, which Hinatea understood slightly.
“Is all right, I help him. He hurt.” She jumped slightly, because Pat was recovering and watching the scene with interest, and chose this moment to run a weak hand up her thigh.
Sara moved up beside Pat and tried to push Hinatea away. “I can look after him perfectly well, thank you.” She glared.
“He has magic in him,” she explained throatily as it rose heavily in her. “You busy, I look after. He need lots of sex to get rid of it.”
“NO,” flashed a furious Sara. She truly did not like this girl. She pulled out her charm and pushed it down onto Pat’s head. Pat was beginning to look at Hinatea’s nakedness with far too much interest.
“Suzanne!” Sara called up her heavy artillery. “Can I borrow your pendant please? Pat is waking up.”
Hinatea stared at Sara, and sank down beside Pat, who put his arm around her.
Suzanne came up and took in the scene instantly, pulled out her pendant and reached over Sara’s shoulder to place it on Pat’s forehead. Pat’s eyes cleared and he looked around in some wonder, went bright red and hastily removed his arm from Hinatea.
Hinatea shrugged and smiled. She leaned forward and quickly kissed him, vaulted over the rail and dropped to the lower deck, heading over to the galley where the other girls had gone. In something of a daze, she wondered what she felt. Suzanne watched her go, and called down to Grey Fox.
“Fox! Can you go to the galley please and make sure the injured are safe.” He nodded and followed her.
Pat was scarlet with embarrassment, hunched over as he stood, trying to conceal his erection. Sara was helping him up and he was flinching away from her, to her distress.
“Steady on, love,” she said. “It’s been a magical attack on us, which caused everyone to have sex with anybody near them. The islanders used it to kill us, they have knives in their hair. They have killed twenty three of us, with more injured. It’s over now,” she continued hastily at his expression, “but it’s been tough.”
“But, but, that girl, she was an islander...”
“Yes, it is over now. We have won and we are taking charge of the island. Now they are on our side.”
“Who died?”
“I don’t know, not yet. But we can go to the carpenter’s workshop and see. They are laid out there.”
“They died in the fighting?”
“It wasn’t proper fighting. It was an accident, they mistook us for slavers. It happens, Pat, and you must get used to it. They are on our side now, and helping us get over the magic.”
“Magic? Get over it?”
“Yes, it’s a compulsion to have sex. Still affecting many people. You will see they are still having sex.”
“Who is dead?” He pushed her away, staggering slightly. “The ship feels funny, wants happened?”
“We’ve run aground. Waiting for high tide to float her off. Come on, let’s get to the carpenters shop.”
One of the first people they saw was Dan, and Pat flinched, holding his friend’s cold hand for a moment. He peered closely at the wound in his head, nodding to himself at the precision of the cut and taking small comfort in the knowledge it was quick and painless.
Others drifted in slowly, as some of the crew were getting over the spell, and went round the bodies. As they were leaving, the Bosun came in, looking drawn and tired, supported by Jim. She gave Sara a hard look, but said nothing.
“Bosun. Glad you are back with us and safe,” said Sara. “Are you up to duty?”
“I’ll manage,” she said shortly.
“We need to get the ship off the sandbank. High tide in an hour, Suzanne has taken charge as the ranking officer and told me to sort it out, but I think it would be better if you did.”
“Thought I saw you take over?”
“Only for a little bit, to handle negotiations. But Suzanne has promoted me to Lieutenant, acting mate while she is acting Captain. There wasn’t much choice...”
“Very well, I’ll sort it. Sir. I don’t like your decision, Sir. These are my friends and charges lying here dead. Sir.”
Sara bristled at the insolent, truculent tone, and iced up. “That’s because you are not aware of all the information, Boatswain. For your information, I don’t like it either, but it is the correct decision. We sprang a trap laid for slavers, and if we do anything to these innocent people, we are as bad as the slavers. It is the slavers that killed our friends, it is the slavers I hate, and it is the slavers I blame for our friends lying cold and dead. So keep your hatred and need for revenge, Boatswain, keep it cold and merciless, bottled up in your thoughts. Feed it, keep it strong, keep it ready. Keep your cutlass sharp and a marlinspike to hand. For we will meet the Umayyad slavers soon, I am sure, and when we do, then bring it out. Bring it out with dripping blade and ice-cold fury, and I shall be alongside you as we slaughter them. But do not take it out on an easy target. We must help these islanders, not hurt them. They are part of our country now, our people, equally wronged and hurt by the slavers.”
“Yes, ma’am!” the Bosun said, her demeanour changed and eyes level. The others in the room were also nodding, pleased to have a target. Sara swung out of the door, pleased with herself and how naturally command came. She caught Pat’s face as she did so. It was stricken.
“Your decision? Your orders? Why?” Pat’s whisper was low, fast and urgent.
They were outside on deck, nobody nearby. Sara turned to him with a sad smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, Pat, but I couldn’t. I am Princess Asmara Starr. I had to flee an assassin and shipped as an ordinary sailor to keep safe.” She smiled fondly at him. “But don’t worry, you can keep calling me Sara, love. I like it when you do.” She leant forward and kissed him again, then frowned at the lack of reaction.
“What’s the matter?”
“It was you,” he whispered, “you who decided not to punish the killers of Dan and the others.”
“It is the correct decision. Do you need me to explain it to you?”
Pat stood tall and looked straight ahead. “Of course not, ma’am. Whatever you say. If I may be excused, I must prepare the jolly boat to take the anchor out.”