"The League of Creatures" (closed)

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

"Does your friend need any particular accommodations, Sergeant? I'm sure we can find him a soft bed somewhere."

“No, Mi Lady, Fang sleeps in my room. As long as he has fresh meet. And is only fed by me everything will be fine.” Looking down for a moment he smiled behind his face guard. “He’s better at sea legs than any of us.”

When they were escorted out of her rooms and into the hall he selected the first door on the left. He’d have a better swing at any intruders with his right hand and could smash them with his shield. Taking the door off its hinges he made sure no one blocked in any way possible.

“Fang, Guard,” He commanded pointing at the stairs. Laying at the bottom the animal rested his forehead on its paws.

“Sir Herbert, I recommend you take the last door before her, just in case I fall.” Looking at Brittany he pointed to another room. ‘You, please. Huntress... there please.” Those rooms would give him knowledge of who was were, The Huntress would have time and angle for her bow if needed, and he could get to Brittany if required.​

 

[Alice2015]

Heather watched the goings-on from her Cabin's door, impressed with the way her new Sergeant was stepping up. A sailor descended the stairs, calling aft, "Last chance for a sight of home, M'Lady."

"Thank you, seaman," Heather replied. She moved forward, gathering Brittany and Rachel, telling them, "We should speak. Come with me."

They ascended to the main deck and moved aft to the stern. Standing at the railing, they looked behind them at Little Gull Rock as it threatened to disappear over the horizon to the west. To the huntress, Heather said, "You didn't have to come with us, Rachel. You could have served me back there."

"No, M'Lady," Rachel contradicted. "I serve you by being with you."

Heather appreciated that sentiment, her expression telling the huntress so. Rachel began to look a bit less green up here in the fresh, crisp salt air. Looking about the deck beyond where the three women stood together, Heather found nothing but men.

"We are fish out of water," she told the other two, nodding her head toward the sailors who could be seen peeking toward the three of them with hungry eyes. She laughed, promising, "Sir Herbert and Sergeant Stormbow will look out for us."

"Speaking of Marcus," Brittany said with a suggestive tone.

"I would advise that you refrain from quenching your desires while we are at sea," Heather warned.

Brittany pouted her lower lip out before giggling. "As you wish, M'Lady."

"Does that apply to me as well, M'Lady?" Rachel asked. She scanned the crew with an expression almost as hungry as those looking back at her. "I'm only thinking of the moral boost I could offer."

"Yes, that applies to you as well, huntress," Heather responded, laughing. "Trust me, you will both have enough opportunities in the days and months ahead to ... boost moral among the crew."

..........................
​

The three women remained together at the stern of the Destiny until long after Little Gull Rock had disappeared, and the sun was about to touch the horizon. A seaman reported that dinner was ready to be served in the Captain's Quarters. On the way, Heather invited Sir Herbert, Sergeant Stormbow, Captain Paulo, and the Squad Sergeants to join her.

The meal was quite extravagant for one prepared shipboard. The cook had been Heather's chef back on Little Gull Rock but, ironically, had been a cook on a merchant ship prior to that, so cooking at sea was nothing new to him. Beyond the cabin's windows, the sun disappeared in a fiery glow. Candles and lanterns replaced the absent sunlight.

Heather spoke more about the Quest ahead of them, keeping the conversation on general terms for now. "We will have plenty of time to discuss the details later. With favorable winds, how long is it to the Southern Great Steppe delta, Captain?"

"Three days to the delta, M'Lady," Paulo answered, "Less with the most favorable winds."

"Then we will have time to get to know one another better," Heather said, smiling to the others.

To her left, Brittany shot a flirtatious glance Marcus's direction. What neither Brittany or Heather noticed was that Rachel did the same.

With dinner completed and the watch about to change, they called it a night. Even though Brittany had been offered a compartment of her own, she remained behind to tend to her Lady's end-of-day needs, then curled up in bed with her. As they blew out half of the candles, leaving just enough to give definition to the room that was new to them, Brittany whispered, "I'd rather be cuddling up next to Marcus."

"You'll get your chance, I'm sure," Heather said. "Now, go to sleep."

.....................
​

OOC: Just an explanation. Little Gull Rock is the little island directly above the "T" in "The Golden Isles" on the west of the map. If you follow the letters of "The Golden Isles" from left to right and continue toward the continent, you will arrive at the Great Steppe River's southern delta. With the distance being approximately 200 km and the sailing speed approximately 4 knots, the travel time is approximately 50 hours max ... or 3 days on average.

Yes, I am very aware that a "knot" is a measurement of speed based upon a nautical mile, an Imperial measurement, not a metric one. But for the purpose of our story, one "knot" is the speed at which you are traveling if you cover one kilometer in one hour, not one nautical mile in one hour. It's fiction, and it's a fantasy world. Deal with it.

 

[Alice2015]

The Great Steppe, the City of Lux, and the Elves living in the Delta:

(Map)

Before the arrival of People a thousand years earlier, the Great Steppe had been home to half a dozen species of Creatures who had all lived together in harmony for thousands of years.

Semi-nomadic families of Giants roamed the Steppe, harvesting wild-growing giant ginger root, a staple of their diet. The Giants also cultivated the Steppe, planting great swaths of ginger root for two purposes: the first, obviously, was to increase their own food supply; the second was to lure in the giant Steppe gopher, an 8-foot long, 120-pound, burrowing rodent that was the primary source of protein to the Giants. (More on Giants.)

Pixies had populated the Great Steppe by the millions. Great clouds of Pixies would fill the dawn skies as they flew about by the thousands, sometimes tens of thousands, snatching pollen as it floated in the morning air and tearing it open with their long, sharp claws to eat its soft, juicy, sweet innards. (More on Pixies.)

Elves didn't live on the open lands of the Steppe itself but instead occupied the forests that long ago could be found surrounding it on almost all sides by the hundreds of thousands of acres. Deep in the wood, the Elves hunted a variety of small to medium sized mammals with bows and short spear and harvested hundreds of varieties of plants, invertebrates, and birds. (More on Elves.)

There were other Creature species on and around the Steppe in the time before People. After the arrival, the Creatures did their best to live peacefully with the newcomers ... for the most part. The People had an advantage over each form of Creature, though, and over the centuries that followed, the Steppe found itself becoming increasingly devoid of its former occupants.

Giants no longer roamed the Steppe at will. Most had been killed. Some had been enslaved; they now worked ore mines or timber harvest camps, spending their days surrounded by armed People and their nights in shackles. The greatest irony of the interaction between Giants and People was that of all the Creature species, Giants were the most People-like of them all.

Giants looked like People, if you ignored the fact that the typical Giant adult was 9-11 feet tall and weighed 700-1,000 pounds. More incredibly, though, was that the languages of the Giants and People had likely come from the same root language. A Giant and People who had never met one another could hold a reasonable conversation without having to work out a method of translation.

Ironically, translation between People and Creatures was available in the form of the Pixie. The little creatures -- they were 10 inches in height max -- were telepathic. If invited to do so, they could listen to the words of one species and pass them to another totally different species via telepathic thought: a People could communicate with a Creature, a Creature could communicate with a People, or -- as had been happening across the World for thousands of years already -- a Creature could communicate with an entirely different Creature, simply by asking a helpful Pixie to translate.

Just as with Giants, though, the Pixies found themselves being eradicated by People. In general, People didn't trust the Pixie ability to read their thoughts, not that that was what the Pixies were actually doing. Additionally, People found the pollen-devouring Pixies to have a negative effect on the grain crops that they had brought with them to the New World.

Pixies would swarm over the fields as the winds carried pollen between plants, preventing or at the least reducing pollination and lowering harvests. Pixies weren't doing this to be harmful, of course; it was simply in their nature. People, however, were not amused and sought to lower the number of Pixies flying over their farmlands.

They did so initially with nets. Pixies had poor eyesight and flew into nets placed over the grain fields by the hundreds and even thousands. The People then simply swatted them to death with switches or dunked nets filled with them into barrels of rain water or irrigation ponds.

Later, as Pixie numbers decreased, People came up with a new sport: Pixie falconry. An entire industry sprang up of training falcons, hawks, and kites to hunt Pixies out of the sky. Competitions arose; jewelry made from the wings of dead Pixies became fashionable in some circles.

The end of greatness of the huge Giants and tiny Pixies was tragic, but the demise of the forest-dwelling Elf was simply horrific. Early in their interaction with People, Elves learned that they were susceptible to the other's diseases: Pox, Fever flu, Red Spot, and more ran rampant through Elven populations, sometimes killing as much as 95% of the population. Hundreds of thousands of Elves died of People disease in the first decade of the latter's presence in the New World -- in the Elves' only World.

Of all the Creature species, Elves were the first to make haste in putting distance between themselves and People. They fled to the deepest forests and, when that didn't create enough space, they fled to the wetlands of such places as the Fenwater or the Great Steppe River delta, where even the People -- who seemed to prosper everywhere -- did not travel.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus Stormbow:​

He stood on the deck behind them, far enough away to give them privacy, but close enough that all those wandering eyes noticed and understood h was there. A few of those eye turned hard and wanted to challenge him then and there. But when they saw Fang’s teeth they choose not to try. Not yet anyways.

The Captain had a handle on his crew, but all handles broke eventually.

During the evening meal nobody spoke of the potential trouble ahead, out of respect for the sensibilities of the ladies Marcus assumed. Talking about battle, the need for medical supplies, the future need of burying the fallen. None of that needed to be spoken about. Not yet anyways. Right now they were simply traveling merchants.

If he never spoke to foreigners, the Lady could say he’d taken a vow of silence. Which meant he’d never slip and betray her. He wouldn’t go to any of the ladies' rooms, that would have been unchivalrous. But if one, or more, came to his that was different. Unless of course he was invited, even if it was under pretense of a game of cards or dice.

After dinner he went up on deck and went through the moves. Several of the Deck hands laughed at what he was doing as he practiced ‘Dancing with Butterflies’, ‘Heron wading the rushes,’ ‘Kingfisher circles the pond’ and others. Until he got into more intricate and deadly moves. When he slid into ‘Unleashing the Fury’ the laughing stopped. Several left as he moved through ‘Storm Shakes the Branches”.

When Fang joined him, he moved through other forms, The Beast moving through his legs silent as death. They were one in the training space. If the crew knew that Fang was just a pup, barely a yearling they’d quake in their boots and most likely take their chances with the sharks and Merfolk.

He’d found his furry ally barely a day after it’s birth. The mother mauled and eaten by a bear. He’d tracked the bitch back to her lair, just in case she had a mate that would threaten the town when he found the pups. Only Fang still lived the rest dead of cold or hunger.

The Hound master had laughed when he’d brought Fang to him. Then cursed at him when he realized Marcus was serious. At a week he’d been ordered to start hunting to feed the damned thing. It ate like a pack wolves. They’d started working together everyday in the practice yard, then during hunting.

Then came the day when the Maester had called him to his chambers. Fang wasn’t a dog, or even a wolf. Small for his breed, some would call him a runt, Fang was Great Wolf. Some regions called him a Dire Wolf. Hard to train, harder to control A full grown Dire wolf could be ridden in battle. Fang would never get that big, but he was a not a pet.

He’d argued for Fang, and an agreement had been made. If Fang ever killed anything – man or beast – inside the Temple or Town. Marcus would slit its throat.

And now a year later Fang and Marcus practiced on the deck of a ship. For all his time in practice of the forms and his sparring with the Blade Master of the Temple, Marcus had yet to take a life. He’d bloodied many a drunkard in taverns, he’d turned a rapist into a eunuch in a dark alley fight as the Rapist victim ran for her life.

He’d even partaken in a scuffle at the town gate when several travelers had tried to force their way in without paying. But he’d never fought the field or taken a life. Some would call him coward for that, other would say he showed restraint. There were street urchins not even half his age in cities that had taken a dozen lives.

He’d asked the Master of the Temple once why he wasn’t allowed to go forth and fight bandits with the others, and he’d been told that taking a life was not a great thing to do, but rather a sorrow. A dead man meant an orphan, a widow, a parent burying a child. And then the Master had started a litany of names. Sometimes it was just – a bandit at fell rock with a great beard and a horrible breath - but the Temple master mourned the men he had made dead.​

 

[Alice2015]

Sunrise on the Destiny:

Heather awoke and rose, leaving Brittany still soundly sleeping in the bed that they would share often over the days and weeks to come. Last night had been about rest; others to come might include pleasure. As the Lady of Little Gull Rock dabbed her body with a rag wetted from a bucket of warm water sitting atop the small stove, she wondered about what she was missing by not partaking of males; she wondered if perhaps the Witch had been wrong when she'd said Heather must remain pure of body to fulfill her destiny, to succeed in the Quest.

The Witch had been specific in her declaration: no men. Heather had been thankful for that specificity. What she and Brittany enjoyed when they were naked together was beautiful ... and wonderfully satisfying. Still, sometimes, Heather couldn't help but wonder of the feel of a man's tool deep inside her. Her curiosity had led Heather to secretly observe other women in the throes of ecstasy with men: a chambermaid with a guardsman; a common whore with a rug merchant; even a pair of sisters enjoying their own brother's very impressive sword.

Heather had never watched Brittany fuck a man, though. She feared the effect of such an image when she herself was partaking of her best friend. Brittany had been with perhaps a dozen men over the years. The two of them didn't speak of it. Not really. Brittany liked men, Brittany liked Heather, Heather liked Brittany, Heather couldn't be with a man. What more was there to be said?

"Let me help," the Handmaid said, startling her Lady whose mind was filled with thoughts. Brittany rose from her Lady's bed in a shift through which her delicious curves and ever-pert nipples revealed themselves. She went to work helping Heather into her clothes, asking with humor, "What would you do without me?"

"Walk around naked all day?" Heather joked.

"Yes, M'Lady, I'm sure the men of the Destiny would like that," Brittany said. She helped Heather into her dress and accoutrements before spending several minutes brushing the Lady's amazingly long hair. She asked, "Is it time yet to cut this mess?"

"You know I can't," Heather reminded her. The Witch's words regarding partaking of the joy of men wasn't the only warning she'd received. "No need to braid it. Bows ... every here and there."

Brittany did as ordered, pulling the long blonde hair together about every eight inches or so and tying it with a colorful bow. Once ready, Heather left her Cabin and made her way toward the ladder leading to the Main Deck; all along the way, sailors tipped their hats in respect as she approached and ogled her ass with lust as she continued past them.

Once topside, Heather took a moment to take in a breath of clean, crisp, salt air. She hadn't realized just how stuffy things were down below until this moment; the smell of men, mildew, and merchant cooking just sort of creeped up on you.

She looked about for the members of her Party, finding them one by one.

Sir Herbert was standing with Captain Paulo at the ship's bow, scanning the waters ahead of them. To port was a large island while to starboard was a smaller one, creating a channel barely a kilometer wide. Many ships had run aground here over the centuries during storms or even during peaceful nights when the Watches simply failed at their duties. Heather was happy that they were passing through during daylight.

She next found Marcus standing off by himself with Fang at his side. Before retiring to her bed last night, Heather had spied him for a moment as he performed his exercises. He was a graceful man, a powerful man. She was lucky to have added him to the Quest.

Last but not least, she found Rachel standing near the stern with her bow in hand. Heather joined her, finding her fishing with a tethered arrow. The huntress tracked a target as it swam near the ship's hull and loosed her missile, the line unraveling from a spool attached to the vessel's railing.

A young boy who Heather had not previously known was aboard leapt for joy as he snatched at the line, pulling it eagerly over the rail. Soon enough, struggling on his own despite being offered assistance, he lifted a fish that measured more than three feet in length onto the deck, pulling a baton from his waistband and thunking it multiple times over the head until it was very much dead.

"Breakfast, M'Lady?" Rachel asked, smiling proudly. She gestured toward a barrel in which Heather found at least another six or seven fish. "Never done this at sea before, but it's not that much different than fishing back home in the lake."

"You do not look green anymore," Heather teased. The other woman laughed. The Lady patted her on the shoulder, saying, "Don't let me stop you from feeding this horde."

Heather moved forward until she was standing near Marcus. She hadn't been this close to Fang yet, and held her hand out, knuckled upward, for the dog to sniff at her. To her new Bodyguard, Heather asked, "Tell me about yourself, Marcus ... if you don't mind. I ... I know that many from the Order do not speak of their lives before the Order ... or sometimes even during their service to it. But I would very much like to know you better ... if you would permit."

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

Making a slight gesture he told Fang ‘Friend. Guard.’ as Lady Heather held her hand out. When she asked, "Tell me about yourself, Marcus ... if you don't mind. I ... I know that many from the Order do not speak of their lives before the Order ... or sometimes even during their service to it. But I would very much like to know you better ... if you would permit."

He shrugged and shifted to watch the crew as he spoke. “Not much to tell. I was born on the street of Silk, my mother died in a raider attack soon after I could walk, half the town burned in the chaos. The Order found and raised me. I’ve served the Temple for.. twenty-three summers, I believe. That would put me at Twenty-five summers. Fang joined me last spring as the Bears left the long sleep. I found him as a pup, mother and siblings dead. If I had not, he’ also have passed into the Long Night. I serve him, and he serves me.”

“Not much to tell of the Order Ma’am. Prayer. Train. Work hard. Prayer. Cutting wood, hunting, fishing, building as needed. Train more. Sleep when you’re exhausted, wake before the chickens and do it again.”

“When I entered your service I took certain vows, some I cannot speak of. But all of them are to serve you and your cause in one way or another. My shield carries no mark until you decide to honor me with yours, or I’m forced to take a life in your defense. I may not partake of drunkenness. Nor frivolous brawling. Slow to anger is the path of Order. I have not been sworn to celibacy, but I may no longer initiate such events.”​

 

[Alice2015]

Heather giggled when the beast at Marcus's feet reached its snout out to sniff at her hand, then licked her fingers. She'd never had a dog herself, and the pack kept by the Guard to hunt down fugitives or deer -- an activity she forbade once she established her power on Little Gull Rock -- had not been friendly to anyone other than their handlers, and even then they still sometimes literally bit the hands that fed them.

Of course, Fang was not a dog or even a wolf. Heather didn't know enough about canines to understand this, though. Maybe one day in the future Marcus would explain this further. Maybe not.

She listened intently to the story of his birth, abandonment, and upbringing. It paralleled her own youth in some ways while being different in others. She'd been a young girl of 8, not a mere toddler, when she'd lost her own parents. The act of losing them had been similarly violent, though. The Imperial Family had been granted permission to escape into exile, only to be ambushed on the way to their ship and slaughtered.

Twenty-three summers, Heather thought when Marcus listed his approximate age. She herself had only just recently turned 21, the age at which the Witch had told her she would be ready to strike out into the world and fulfill her destiny.

Marcus talked of the repetitiveness of his life in the Order, causing Heather to smile knowingly. With humor in her voice, she said, "I have the same problem, Marcus. Wake up well after dawn, soak in a bath drawn for me, eat breakfast delivered to my room, don clothes washed by servants, sit for Court and decide the futures of those who serve me simply because they live on the land in my control, drink wine and eat lavish dinners, sleep ... and repeat. It's a hard life ... but they say someone has to do it, so why not me."

There was more to her life than that, of course, and she hoped that Marcus realized that she was making light of it all. Yes, Heather had an easy life; there was no denying that. She'd never gone to bed hungry, she'd never worn dirty rags, she'd never slept on a rush mat in an alley -- at least, not since those first days following the murder of her family and the weeks of escape that followed.

But Heather did sometimes go to bed at night worrying that during the night, her throat would be slit open by a League of Baron's assassin who had finally discovered her new identity and tracked her to her location. The stories of her surviving the ambush on the Imperial train 13 years ago were no longer told; they'd been relegated to fantasy and wishful thinking by those People and Creatures who yearned for a savior.

But Sir Herbert's Birdies had brought him word recently that Princess Allison had not been forgotten by some within the League of Barons. There were indeed intelligence gatherers and assassins out there looking for clues as to whether the heir to the Frenkish Empire might have survived. Such a young woman could possibly make a move to regain her throne, if she could find both support and financial backing ... such as a sunken ship full of coin and gemstones.

“When I entered your service I took certain vows," Marcus told her, "some I cannot speak of. But all of them are to serve you..."

Heather smiled at the man's words and vows, and when he reached the part proclaiming that he would no longer initiate sexual relationships, she couldn't help but laugh aloud. "Well, I'm sure that there are women throughout Little Gull who would not be happy to hear you say that, Sergeant."

Heather was, of course, thinking of her best friend in particular. Brittany didn't need Marcus to make the first move, though. Heather had confidence in her Handmaid's ability to push forward if the need arose.

A ruckus near the bow of the ship caught Heather's attention, drawing her from the discussion with Marcus. Sailors were rushing forward from all about the vessel's main deck, some even descending from the masts where they'd been adjusting sails in a changing wind.

Even though she was curious about the uproar, Heather wasn't overly concerned until she heard a sailor call out the word, "Merfolk!"

As her eyes widened in panic, fearing that one of her seaborne allies was under attack, either in the water or actually aboard the ship, she begged Marcus, "Stop them! Stop them! Don't let them be hurt!"

Rachel -- who had finished fishing and was working on her sea legs by climbing a few yards up into the rigging to experience the feel of the ship's movement -- also picked up on the activity near the bow. She had a clear line of sight to what was happening: a Mermaid had leapt out of the water and latched onto the bowsprit that reached out before the vessel, providing lower support for the jib sail. Sailors working the rigging and cleaning the deck had immediately become aggressive, assuming that the monster was there to do them some form or harm.

One of the crew had retrieved a harpoon and -- skilled at moving aboard the rocking ship -- was moving forward toward the Mermaid with the obvious intention of doing the Creature harm. Rachel didn't share the same skill of movement aboard the vessel, yet she wasn't going to simply stand there and let the Mermaid be killed.

She wrapped one of her legs in the rigging to suspend herself, freeing her hands, then pulled her bow from her back and drew an arrow. Aiming carefully and adjusting for the rocking, much as she would in a hard wind back home, Rachel loosed the arrow, sending it through the rigging and past the heads of several sailors who were chanting their shipmate on.

With a thunk that Rachel heard even from halfway down the ship's length, the missile sunk into the wooden handle of the harpoon. The sailor dropped the weapon in surprise, backed a bit, lost his balance, and fell overboard; he grasped in desperation at a line and came up with it, dangling over the side as he screamed for help.

Other sailors hadn't seen the arrow shot with their own eyes, though, and -- as some of their crewmates helped the pleading sailor -- continued threatening the Mermaid...

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

Running forward, a piercing whistle ripped the air. Fang lunging forward and knocking several crew to the ground as Marcus slid across the deck, steel armor digging grooves into the deck as two daggers sliced in ‘Storm beneath the waves’ slicing through boot laces and belts.

One blade flicked from his hand to impale another harpoon ready to be launched. Unfortunately a hand was between blade and wood when it sank home.

Shaking his hand violently in pain the man ripped his hand further before the blade separated from wood. As the harpoon hit the deck another blade sank into it, dissuading any further attempts to use it.

Even as Fang threatened crew, and another fought his hand/harpoon implement Marcus rose up before the rest and slid through ‘Cat Crosses the Courtyard' before he moved into ‘The Serpent’s Tongue Dances’.

‘Stand Down!’ he snapped, his voice echoing from his helm rather menacingly.​

 

[Alice2015]

Heather was torn between rushing forward herself and simply letting her warriors tend to the situation. A sail above her -- abandoned by the sailors who'd been tending it -- flapped ineffectively in the wind, allowing Heather brief glimpses of the huntress twenty feet above her as she notched and released another missile. Heather wouldn't see where it ended up but later would overhear one sailor telling another that it had gone through his trousers, pinning him to the railing and very nearly turning him into a eunuch.

Rush forward Heather eventually did, knowing that only she could bring a resolution to the situation. Marcus and Rachel could defend the Creature; there was no doubt in Heather's mind about that. But someone needed to explain why the Mermaid was not to be killed, and that person could be none other than Heather.

She pushed her way through the raucous sailors, helped when Captain Paulo stepped in and began knocking his own men aside. Out before her, Heather heard her new Bodyguard call out Stand down! and heard the growling of the dire wolf at his side. Heather finally reached Marcus's position, calling out, "Please! Stop! Do not harm this Creature! She is here to help us!"

Some of the men went quiet, confused by what they were hearing, while others continued to holler out threats and waggled a variety of weapons before them. Heather continued her pleading as the Captain stepped forward, pulled his sword, and slashed it through the air before him, nearly cutting the head off one of his crew while slicing a footlong cut down the back of the arm of another.

"You will not harm this Creature!" Paulo repeated with his booming voice as he threatened the nearest sailors with his blade. The man backed away out of a combination of fear of and respect for their Commanding Officer. Once the noise had nearly ceased, he stressed, "And you will listen to and obey the Lady with the same respect that you would show me ... MORE so even!"

Weapons lowered, some of them dropped to the ground or slipped back into sheaths or belts. Once she thought she had the crew's full attention, Heather pleaded, "You must not harm the Merfolk. They are our friends ... our allies. Without them, this is all lost."

Heather very nearly used the word Quest but caught herself, remembering that most of the crew believed they were simply on a standard trade and exploration mission. The Captain spoke up again, telling his men with a serious tone, "Without the Merfolk, you don't get paid!"

That seemed to have an effect on the men, and the anger lowered yet anther notch. The Captain ordered the men back to their posts and duties, looked to Heather, Marcus, and Rachel -- who had somehow used the rails and riggings to get from midship to the bow -- and told Heather in particular, "You will have no more problems with the men, M'Lady. They only need know where their coin is coming from to be kept in line."

"Thank you, Captain," Heather said as the man tipped his hat to her and headed to port to assist in pulling the man who'd nearly fallen overboard back on deck. To Marcus and Rachel, she gave heartfelt thanks, adding, "You may very well have just protected the Quest from disaster."

Turning forward, Heather looked to the bowsprit where the Mermaid continued to grasp her claws into the wood, her eyes flicking from People to People. Heather made a gesture of friendship, then used both hands to signal Safe. No fear.

The Mermaid acrobatically swung down below the wooden arm and up through the jib lines, landing nearer to where Heather had moved forward. Gesturing to Marcus, Rachel, and even now Brittany -- who'd only come forward once she knew the danger was over -- Heather gestured Friends. Good friends. Trust.

The Mermaid studied the four, then bared her sharp teeth at the Captain as he approached. Paulo stopped short, looking to Heather for some sign as to whether he should retreat. Again, Heather gestured that he was a friend. The Mermaid didn't looked convinced.

"Why are you here?" Heather spoke aloud for the People while she also signed something similar. She continued, "Is there something wrong?"

The Mermaid's hands set about gesturing quickly, too quickly for Heather who signaled for her to slow and repeat. After more unhurried gestures, Heather signaled Thank you, after which the Mermaid immediately leapt off the ship and disappeared into the water.

"What is it?" Brittany asked. "What's wrong?"

Heather gave her answer to the ship's CO. "There is a fleet of ships heading our way from the north. The flag they fly ... it is of the League of Barons."

"We must turn back," Paulo said. "Return to Little Gull Rock."

"NO!" Heather demanded. "No! We cannot end this before it has even begun."

She turned and looked out beyond the ship to the seemingly endless sea to the east. Then, turning back, she told the Captain, "We sail for Poisonwater Bay. We have friends--"

"Poisonwater is weeks sailing!" the Captain interrupted. "We are not crewed or supplied for such a mission."

"Poisonwater Bay," Heather repeated firmly. She stared down the Captain, who eventually turned and began barking orders to alter course to the south. Looking to the others, all Heather could say was, "I'm sorry."

 

[Alice2015]

Later:

Heather hovered over the desk in the Captain's Cabin, studying the map of the world. The news of the approaching League of Baron's fleet had been not only unexpected but tragic as well. Sir Herbert's Elven contact had claimed to have valuable intelligence about the rulers of Lux, Lotha, and Fothala, the three largest and wealthiest cities in the western reached of the Steppe. Now, though, there would be no getting that information -- not now, anyway.

Their new destination was over 800 kilometers away, not the 200 they'd planned on. Even if the Gods blessed the Destiny with the most perfect winds, it would take 8 days to reach Poisonwater Bay. Captain Paulo had come down to speak to Heather after the incident with the Mermaid, telling her it was more likely to take them at least 12 days.

"And that if we take the shortest route," he'd said, clarifying, "directly pass False Bay."

When Heather's expression revealed her own concern over that possibility, Brittany asked, "Why is that a problem? What is wrong with False Bay?"

"Pirates," Heather answered. "They control False Bay and attack merchant shipping passing near it."

"Why can't we sail around them?" the uniformed Handmaid asked.

Heather looked to Captain Paulo, who took the hint and answered the inquiry, "We would need to sail southwest, then south, then finally east and north to avoid the reach of the pirates. We wouldn't arrive in Poinsonwater Bay in anything less than a month. And that's if we arrive at all."

"Why wouldn't we arrive?" Brittany asked, her tone one of building fear.

"The seas that far from shore ... more than 400 kilometers," Heather answered, "they are likely too rough for the Destiny. It is unlikely that she could survive a storm if it struck."

"The men won't sit still for it, M'Lady," Paulo said with a reluctant tone. "There would be a mutiny. I could not stop it."

"Do you have a suggestion, Captain?" Heather asked.

"Yes, M'Lady. We sail due south for eight nights, putting us here," he told her, pointing to a position on the map that would put the Destiny due west of False Bay's southern extent.

"Nights?" Heather inquired.

"We hoist and bind the sails by day," Paulo explained. "The pirates may not spot the Destiny without her sails unfurled. We catch the wind at night and run hard and fast ... south to here ... then south-by-southeast to here ... and finally north into Poisonwater Bay, where the navy patrols keep the pirates at bay."

Heather considered the plan a moment, then told Paulo she'd have an answer for him in the morning. "For now, let us continue on our southerly course away from the known danger of the League fleet."

The Captain confirmed the order and departed, after which Heather spent another hour contemplating the map and the Quest. She had Sir Herbert and Marcus brought to her cabin, where she told them, "We will have to put in at Merchant Bay for supplies."

Merchant Bay was the largest port city in the Golden Isles. It was located on the southwest coast of the large island in the south of the archipelago. Merchant Bay provided resupply to as much as 90% of the trade vessels using the World's western trade routes. Its largest source of profit, though, was provided protection to convoys of merchant ships traveling near False Bay. Merchant Bay had more than two dozen of the fastest warships on the water, each of them armed with multiple ballistae. The weapons were capable of firing heavy steel bolts that could easily penetrate a ship's hull or missiles carrying burning canisters of oil that would set sails, rigging, and decks aflame.

"I have fears now concerning the Destiny's crew," she admitted. "After we resupply in Merchant Bay, it is my opinion that we should leave behind as many of the men as we can and continue on with only those who Captain Paulo himself trusts."

Heather hesitated, then asked with a sincere tone, "Does anyone have anything they would like to contribute? Please, speak your minds. Do not let your station prevent you from preventing me from making a tragic mistake."

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

“What if we sailed to Merchant bay, then hugged the coast southward along the island edge and then backtracked north to your contact? I don’t know enough about sailing, but can’t we keep the island between us and the enemy fleet? Do we know they are even after us, or are they just on a trade convoy?”

“I do agree with the assessment of the crew, frightened men are dangerous. It’s best to unemploy as many as possible, but even that is a risk if they get offered coin for information. Whatever is said, they must be lied to about or destination. They must believe, convincingly.”

Fang walked around the table twice before he jumped up and put his forepaws on the table between Marcus and Lady Heather. Looking at everyone, he looked more bored than anything. There were no rabbits, squirrels, cats, or birds to chase. And he was the only hound on the ship. After a head scratching he dropped to the floor and went to guard the door, just his size was enough to keep all but the stupid from coming down the hall.​

 

[Alice2015]

Marcus suggested that they make their visit to Merchant bay, then sneak back north, hugging the shore. Heather had considered something similar but had feared that she'd be putting them all in danger. Hearing someone else say it out loud, though, decreased her fears.

"Do we know they are even after us?" Marcus asked, "or are they just on a trade convoy?”

"There is no way of knowing," Heather responded. Then, though, she said, "Actually, maybe there is. In Merchant Bay, we let slip our destination -- Poisonwater Bay -- then make contact with the Merfolk again ... ask them to track the ship and see if it hurries after us."

Looking to the map again, then to Marcus, Heather smiled. "Your idea is wonderful."

The new Sergeant brought up the crew and their trustworthiness. "Whatever is said, they must be lied to about or destination. They must believe, convincingly.”

Lowering her voice so as to only be heard by Marcus, Sir Herbert, Brittany, and Rachel, Heather said, "We tell Captain Paulo we will continue onto Poisonwater Bay. We resupply in Merchant Bay, then discharge half the crew. We leave Merchant Bay heading southwest as if taking the long route. This will eliminate the need for an armed escort, something we cannot trust as they will surely be working for the League of Barons."

Marcus's dire wolf put his paw on the table, and after letting the animal smell her hand once more, Heather gave his head a scratch, paying particular attention to his ears as she finished, "Once we are over the horizon, we follow Sergeant Stormbow's plan: we backtrack close to the coastline, using the Merfolk to avoid reefs and shoals. Our 3-day trek becomes an 8-day one ... but we reach our destination as planned ... and with any luck, we do so without having gained any undue attention."

They discussed more of the details before inviting the Captain back into his own cabin for the update. Once he'd done some plotting and calculated the resupply needs for the feigned trip south, he departed once again to inform the First Mate and Quartermaster of the new plans.

"Thank you, Marcus," Heather told her new Bodyguard after Sir Herbert had escorted the other two women topside for some fresh air. With a sincere tone, she told him, "You may very well have saved this Quest. To begin with such a defeat as we might have been facing ... well ... I cannot tell you how much I appreciate what you've done."

The Afternoon Watch rang the bells -- a pair of dings followed by a second pair -- indicating a time of 2 o'clock, or 1400 hours as the more nautical occupants of the Destiny called it. Heather's stomach rolled over, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. She was also a bit tired and asked Marcus to excuse her so she could rest.

"Will you sit with me for dinner, Marcus?" she asked before he departed. "I have something to discuss with you."

 

[Alice2015]

Hours later, sundown:

At the knock on the door of Heather's cabin, Brittany -- who'd been setting up a dinner table -- felt a chill run up her spine, sending gooseflesh out her arms. She looked to Heather, who was sitting at the cabin's aft-facing windows watching the last moments of sunset; Captain Paulo had altered the course of the Destiny to the southwest to catch a favorable breeze, filling the rear windows with the wondrous view of day's end.

"Shall I get the door, M'Lady?" Brittany asked tentatively. She was uncertain as to whether this dinner between man and woman was advisable.

"No, my friend," her Lady said, standing. "I will."

Heather went to the door, opening it to find Marcus standing there looking as handsome as he ever did. She stepped aside and gestured him inside. No sooner was the Bodyguard inside the candlelit cabin then Heather stepped out of it, saying as she closed the door, "Enjoy your evening, you two. I will be tucked away safe and sound in Lady Brittany's quarters, under the watchful eye of Sir Herbert."

The door closed, and when Marcus turned to look at Brittany, he found her smiling nervously at him as she gestured to one of the two chairs set up around a small table already filled with the dinner that the two women had put together.

"Please, Sergeant, will you sit?" Brittany asked. "I prepared one of the sea bass Rachel caught earlier ... and we have fresh vegetables, fruit, and warm bread from home. And wine."

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

When she’d asked him to come to dinner he’d been expecting another tactical dinner. But instead, when the door opened, it was obviously something other than that. A hand gesture and Fang lay on the floor outside the door, few ladies liked to have a mass of Fangs and fur staring at them during meals, or other events...

Moving across the room and sliding her chair for her he said, ‘It looks delicious and smells wonderful as well. Far better than what I would expect on a sea vessel.”

“You do realize you may call me Marcus, The Rank of Sergeant is unfamiliar to me and this is not exactly a meeting of military tactics.” He said softly into her ear as he helped her to sit at table. “Unless I misread and this is…”

He wondered at her form under her clothing, the smooth curves the flower between her thighs and just what would be needed to make it open.​

 

[Alice2015]

Brittany was relieved that Marcus left his dire wolf outside the cabin. Only once had she ever been with a man while his canine was in the room, and the animal hadn't understood the nature of the activity and sounds coming from the bed, resulting in it howling and dancing about excitedly and confused as to the role it should have been playing in its master's evening. Needless to say, it had been disconcerting and, sadly, unsatisfying for the Handmaid.

"It looks delicious and smells wonderful as well," Marcus said about the dinner. "Far better than what I would expect on a sea vessel.”

"I had some special items stored specifically for M'Lady's meals," Brittany explained. "She insisted that we delve into that treasure trove for tonight. I hope it pleases you."

Brittany had to turn her face as she felt a blush filling her cheeks. Simply saying pleases you made her pussy tense up with anticipation.

Marcus inquired as to whether the dinner was professionally or personally based, asking if he'd misread the situation.

"You haven't misread anything ... Marcus," Brittany said, looking up into his very near face as he helped her into her chair. She reached out to grasp the lapel of his tunic, pulling him gently down to her and meeting his lips with her own in a soft, erotic kiss. When their mouths parted, she whispered, "I want to dine with you ... then ... I want to bathe with you..."

She glanced past him to where the small coal stove was heating a kettle of water, water to be added to the tub sitting in a corner, mostly full of hot water she and Heather had already added to it over the last hour or so. Kissing Marcus again, Brittany finished, "...and I want to make love with you ... if that is something that would interest you."

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:
Inhaling her scent Marcus smiled and then leaned down and kissed her, the sheer manliness of the kiss indicating he'd like that very very much.

"Do we eat with or without clothing?" he asked sliding his finger along a piece of lace that held her bodice together. There were many a nights when he'd help a young lady undress in the dark. And quite a number of morning when he'd helped her dress quickly in the light. He wasn't exactly a man whore. But he'd been, helpful, to those that opened up to him.

Kissing her neck he stepped back and sat, watching her in the light through the windows.

 

[Alice2015]

"Do we eat with or without clothing?" Marcus asked as he slid a finger along Brittany's lacy bodice.

As he lowered his mouth to kiss her neck, the Handmaid reached a hand up to the back of the Bodyguard's neck, caressing it against him, encouraging him to continue ... and even to lower to her bosom. A chill ran up her spine, causing her to giggle. She grasped Marcus with both hands, pulling herself to her feet, facing him, and pressing into him.

"Without clothing," she whispered as she kissed him on the mouth again. She added, "Without food, too. I want to get naked with you ... slip into the bath ... feel your hands on me ... feel you inside me..."

Without hesitating, Brittany began loosing Marcus's clothing, anxious to enjoy what she was sure he could offer her.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:
His finger moved, slow and sure as he began to remove her clothing, slowly kissing each patch of newly bared skin. "I have other things that I'll be eating this evening."

As the last bits of clothing fell to the floor he admired her form, even as she looked at his. He was already hard and ready, the muscles of his arms, chest, and legs, formed from years of hard work and long hours in fields and practice yards.

Sliding calloused fingers along her skin, he caressed her breasts. His thumbs stroking her nipples before he kissed them, his tongue lightly stroking the sensitive tips. Moving his hands lower he gripped her by her waist and lifted her up. Setting her on the table, thankfully it was bolted to the floor and was of sturdy wood.

His fleshy sword rose between them, pointing at her breasts.

 

[Alice2015]

Brittany and Marcus:

The feel of the man's hands upon her sensitive flesh made Brittany purr with joy, but when he lifted her onto the table, she quickly said, "No ... no, not like this."

She wriggled out of his grasp and padded across the room to the coal stove, retrieving the pot of hot water and pouring it into the bronze tub sitting in the corner. Carefully, Brittany slipped into the water, grimacing at the heat but quickly becoming used to it. She gestured Marcus forward. "Join me. Sit here."

At one end of the tub, wrapping around its curved end, was a wooden bench. Brittany gestured Marcus to sit there. She wanted to run a sponge of hot water up and down his front side, cleaning him of the salt and sweat that were pervasive aboard a seagoing vessel, before moving between his parted knees ... and taking his swollen cock into her mouth.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:

He’d never had anyone bath him before, hell he’d never even thought of it. But it was amazing. Sensual in a manner he’d never expected.

And then she moved down and took him into the mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head tat the sheer pleasure of it. His fingers sliding into her hair as he silently begged her to not stop, and take as mush as she could.

“Don’t stop,” he sighed.

Moving his hands he caressed her shoulders and then her breasts. Gods no one had ever taken him as far as she was. It would be a miracle if she could take everything, but he was a man of Prayer...​

 

[Alice2015]

Brittany and Marcus:

“Don’t stop,” he sighed as Brittany's lips wrapped around Marcus's cock.

She sucked his bulbous head into her mouth with obvious skill. This was something at which the Handmaid was very good. Brittany had learned to please men orally after spying repeatedly on one of Heather's Chambermaids as the woman earned extra coin servicing some of the House Guards while her Lady was away. Curious about it, she'd seduced one of the Butlers, a married man who she knew would never speak of it and, therefore, endanger her position or friendship with Heather.

Brittany had discovered very early on that not only was she good as sucking cock but she enjoyed how men responded to the pleasure she caused them. She could have done without the taste and feel of cum as it filled her mouth and slid down her throat. But the sheer joy of seeing and hearing a man in climax more than made up for the moment of discomfort.

Feeling Marcus's hands caressing her shoulders and lower to her breasts, Brittany continued raising and lowering her head in his lap, taking more and more of him into her mouth, then her throat. He was a bit longer than most of the men she'd pleased in this way, as well as thicker across his shaft. She gagged once, then a second time, blinking away the tears that built in the corners of her eyes.

Brittany took a moment to recoup, then very skillfully dropped her head toward Marcus's crotch until his entire length disappeared past her lips. She held there for a long moment, then slowly pulled back, looking up into Marcus's face for his reaction. She sucked hard on his head, licking the crevice at its tips, tasting the first droplets that told her she was doing him good.

Then, wanting him to explode in ecstasy, Brittany resumed her up and down movements, taking nearly every inch of him into her mouth again and again with steady consistency, while the fingers of one hand moved up and down his shaft in concert with her lips while the fingers of the other hand bobbled his sensitive balls at their tips.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:​

‘There were gods and answers to prayer,’ Marcus thought as his brain skipped a beat in ecstasy. Grabbing the rim of the bathtub he forced himself to not finish too soon. It was like having a favorite cake on your naming day. The knights had been astonished at his ability to eat it slowly. Savoring every delightful second. The cook had been more than pleased, since most knights ate their naming cake faster than Fang ate a rabbit.

It was hard to think as she ministered his flesh sword like a blademaster. A Goddess given talent if anyone had it. He held out as long as he could but by the Goddess it was more than he could hold back. A raging river ripped down his spine and exploded forth with enough pleasurable stimulation that it actually hurt for a moment.

A geyser that pumped his seed into her mouth as quickly, and as much force as a cutthroat pumped blood. When the flood stopped his took a deep breath, and realized he’d been holding it for far to long.

Looking at her he realized he had a favor to return.​

 

[Alice2015]

With a jolt, Marcus's cock shot a massive wad of cum to the back of Brittany's throat, surprising her despite knowing that his orgasm was imminent. She pulled her mouth back until only his sensitive bulb was still within her lips and -- grasping his shaft tightly -- stroked him hard and fast as again and again and again he flooded her tongue.

Peeking upwards, Brittany watched her new lover's face as the euphoria erupted through him. She loved this; she so enjoyed watching a man's orgasm, particularly when she had him in her mouth, something most women -- save for tavern and alley whores -- rarely if ever did.

She swallowed once, then again, then set to licking his member clean with her nimble tongue. She was careful not to tickle him, not wanting to take away from the joy he was feeling. When at last his cock's seizures lessened to a simple, persistent quivering, Brittany sat back in the tub and smiled.

"Was that better than roasted duck and grilled ground beans?" she teased. She didn't wait for an answer, instead grasping the legs partially submerged in the water and pulling him forward. As Marcus's ass fell to the bottom of the bronze tub, Brittany crawled into his lap, grasped his shaft yet again, and began working him against her tight hole, whispering, "My turn."

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Marcus:
No sooner had she swallowed the last of his seed then she was pulling him down and mounting his still rigid shaft.

Grabbing her hips he held her as she guided his sword into her sheath. The water helped, but she was tight and he was large. He didn’t force it, letting her guide how fast this was going to happen. Seemed like she liked that control anyways.

If this was a hay pile in a barn, or a field, things would be different. But this was here and now and after oaths had been taken. And she was a Lady, not a milk maid, or bar keepers daughter.

Pulling her closer he slid even deeper and kissed her, full and firm breasts pressing against him as his tongue and cock moved with her.

 

[Alice2015]

Brittany grimaced at the feel of Marcus's above-average sized cock slipping into her canal. One might not have thought it had been a while since she'd fucked based upon her seduction of Marcus after such a short time, but it had actually been four months since a man had last filled her as her Lady's Bodyguard was now.

She took her time accepting his full length, holding him tightly to her bosom as she kissed his erotically. She purred, "You are just what I needed, Marcus ... just ... what ... I needed ... hmmmm..."

Only after her vaginal muscles had relaxed and stretched to allow them to continue without pain did Brittany begin raising and lowering herself in Marcus's lap, taking more and more of him in and out of her much as she had earlier with her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his head, pulling his mouth to her tits, begging him to bite her, something she'd learned that she liked early in her sex life. Faster and faster she rode Marcus, the pleasure building greater and greater until finally she exploded in ecstasy, arching back to stare up at the cabin's overhead as the euphoria washed over her, wave after wave after wave.

Brittany wasn't a loud lover, a screamer or crier like many women she knew. Her climax revealed itself in the deep trembles that shook her to the core, followed eventually by a loud gasp as the breath she'd been holding expelled from her chest. Trembles and gasps, they both continued for the longest time, until finally she fell forward against her lover's body.

"My Gods ... my dear Gods," she gasped close to Marcus's ear, dropping her mouth to kiss and bite at his neck before pulling back, looking him in the face, and proclaiming, "That was ... incredible!"

She didn't know whether or not Marcus was finished with her, but at the same time, Brittany didn't care. She rose out of the tub, urging him to follow, and without drying a single drop of water from their bodies led him to the bed, maneuvered herself to her knees and elbows, and commanded, "More ... more ... so much more."