A novella ~ "Privateer's Desire: Stealing Romance"

[cascadiabound]

Thank you and CB for the thread. It gives me something to look forward to.

Far too much to list for which I am thankful. I hope all enjoy their day.

TC ~ it warms our hearts that our thread brightens your days.

​

 

[cascadiabound]

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Suddenly you burst into the tent. You are dirty from riding hard, two days growth of beard darkens your jaw, and your clothing is rent in places from the battle and sword fighting. But never have you looked more handsome or more dashing to my eyes! MY love!

I jump up and by the time I reach the end of my chain, you have run to me, pulled me into your clasp and embraced me with a ferocity unmatched in my lifetime.

You rain kisses on me as my tears flow and I sob in your arms. My heart full of joy and relief at one and the same time.

My love – my love – my love- my love – I am safe – my love has come for me and he has rescued me from a life of slavery and horrors I cannot think of. He loves me and he will overturn heaven and earth to find me and to save me from all harm.

I find I cannot stop the tears from flowing as I cling to you. The tent is almost half engulfed in flames now. A moment later, you unsheathe your sword – saying,

“Let’s get you out of here,” as you cut my chains from the tent post.

Turning, you free the other chained slave women in the tent and they scurry out into the night air escaping the smoke and the fire.

Hoisting me into your arms, you carry me into the courtyard where the melee and fighting is now almost done. Men are being trussed up, horses and goods secured, servants and slaves gathered together into safety.

I cling to you. I will never be parted from you again, I think to myself. I tuck myself against your body and soon you are seated on a barrel in the midst of the Sheikh’s former encampment.

Our Hero, The Captain​

One by one, men come and report to you. I am amazed you are here – that you came all the way across the ocean to rescue me. And somehow all these men report to you. Sailors and marine officers, and desert horsemen, rugged and proud, fighting for you and taking your orders.

You settle me on your lap and I rest my head on your chest, listening to your voice as you interact with your men. Thanking them, giving additional orders, sending them to tend to their wounds.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice many of the men are looking at me with admiration…but they quickly avert their eyes, blushing.

After all of the months of groping and ogling on the Spaniard’s ship, the way your men glance at me is positively charming. I feel your arm curl around me possessively. I look up at you and my heart soars with joy and happiness.

 

[Susurration]

What a battle! The soundtrack to go with it was very apt too. A very heroic rescue and now I'll be intrigued to see what happens to the dastardly Sheikh Hamad.

 

[Mrtenant]

What a battle! The soundtrack to go with it was very apt too. A very heroic rescue and now I'll be intrigued to see what happens to the dastardly Sheikh Hamad.

Good morning and afternoon Suss! Glad you liked

What's a Romance story without a bit of rescuing. As for Hamad? We'll be attending to him, never fear.

Next installment, coming right up.


Hope you've had a good week. Good to see you.

 

[Mrtenant]

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Hamad's Scouts​

Hamad’s outlying scouts had left the camp just prior to the start of battle at a full gallop. They were long gone.

They would make Hamad’s tribal lands within hours at that speed. Reinforcements would be coming soon. The wine was all wasted.

Some of the women had died with their men. Others seemed relieved at the change of ownership. The horses and camels are still penned up in the rear of the camp.

A goodly amount of coin and jewels are salvaged from Hamad’s tent. And! We had Hamad himself! He will be good for a handsome ransom later.

Standing a few minutes later, taking a final look around, I order the men to pack lightly, we are leaving, and in a hurry. Just as I tell a man to secure the mounts left by Hamad, there is a tremendous crash mingled with the neighing of dozens of horses as they burst forth from the corral!

Screaming people run and fly every which way. It is Hamad’s horses! They have been released and they run in mass right towards us! STAMPEDING HORSES(<<<click this link)
Goods and people are flying everywhere, either struck by their hooves or barely escaping the stampede. Stepping hastily to escape the herd we move back and, in the space of a heartbeat, you are gone! Torn from my side!

In rage, I yell into the night as a horseman rides fast through the camp with you now across his saddlebow! Snarling at the men to leave as ordered, I grab the mane of a passing white stallion and leap onto its back as it thunders past.

I can see you struggling with your captor - the official - damn his scheming hide - until finally he smacks you hard, leaving you dazed and quiet. That man is going to die!

I store in my heart the blinding fury I feel as I watch you struggle. In hot pursuit, I chase your captor out of the encampment. ‘Tis a race! The horses are well-matched and the weight of the rider ahead combined with yours is only little more than my own.

On into the night the horses thunder through the canyon and on through the desert, following the course of the Nile towards a town ahead, dimly illuminating the night.

 

[Susurration]

All is well here thank you .

I knew that there had to be a twist, but I wasn't expecting it to come like that! I really enjoy the way that you both keep surprising us .

 

[Tallcajun]

My. That couple cannot catch a break.
It's like an Indiana Jones movie.

 

[cascadiabound]

All is well here thank you .

I knew that there had to be a twist, but I wasn't expecting it to come like that! I really enjoy the way that you both keep surprising us .

So glad you continue to enjoy our tale, Suss!

My. That couple cannot catch a break.
It's like an Indiana Jones movie.

It was a brief reunion, wasn't it?

We love to see both of you on our thread!
Appreciate your comments and your support so much.
Cascadia

 

[cascadiabound]

CLICK HERE FOR AUDIO TRACK
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Suddenly there is a commotion, a stampede of dozens of horses coming right at us through the middle of camp! HORSES!(<<<click this link)

Startled, you jump up to get us out of the way.

I reach desperately for your fingertips as I fall out of your lap and a moment later I feel a strong arm grasping around my waist and I am lifted up, up into the air and pulled over the saddle of a horse moving at a gallop.

I scream at the top of my lungs for you, kicking the horse and the leg of my captor. A dusky forearm secures me just in front of my face, I lunge, biting down as hard as I can, drawing blood, the metallic taste flooding my mouth.

I hear him grunt in pain and then feel a crack to the back of my skull as something hard comes down on the back of my head. I see stars briefly and then slip into unconsciousness.

Sometime, I have no idea how many hours later, I come to. The horse is slowing to a trot and then stops. I sneak a peek and see the moon low on the horizon.

We have arrived at a crude tent encampment along a wide river. I squeeze my eyes shut hoping that pretending continued unconsciousness will buy me some modicum of safety. Or at least prevent another knock on the head.

Oh, ouch! – my head throbs something fierce! I shift very slightly and realize my wrists are bound – no longer with fine golden chains, but with rough rope.

I hear my captor call out a command. I know that voice – it is the Sheikh’s first officer. With this new knowledge I shiver in fright. I am chattel to these men. And with the Sheikh not here, there is no one who has a stake in protecting me. I am likely to be fair game for any of them. Again, I am lifted up, pulled from the saddle and thrown over the shoulder of another man like a sack of potatoes.

He is large – bigger even than you. He smells of smoke and horseflesh and unhealthy unkempt sweat. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. He tosses me down on the ground unceremoniously.

“Ummmph!” is my muffled cry.

It is all I can do to not cry out as the wind is knocked out of me as I hit the ground.

He drags me by my bound wrists and secures me to a stake pounded into the ground. My veil and beautiful hair adornment are long gone, lost sometime in the night. My garment is no longer white, and the deep cut in the flimsy cloth of the thigh is now torn even deeper. I am now but barely dressed in flimsy rags.

With my hands bound above my head, and needing to feign unconsciousness, it is impossible to try to arrange what little transparent fabric left of my garment to cover my shame. I feel the nakedness under the flimsy garment acutely.

The night is cool, and I am sure my skin is gooseflesh. I am unable to sleep. I sneak looks at the camp from time to time trying to count the number of men, but my head pounds and I am exhausted. I lose consciousness once again.

 

[Susurration]

Things are looking a bit dicey now! Let's hope that the heroes can successfully pursue Sheikh Hamad's men and use him as leverage. Great pictures to go with the story once again .

 

[Mrtenant]

Things are looking a bit dicey now! Let's hope that the heroes can successfully pursue Sheikh Hamad's men and use him as leverage. Great pictures to go with the story once again .

Suss, thats really a pretty good idea. Let's see how it turns out

 

[Mrtenant]

Traveling miles upon miles by moonlight across the desert, following the Nile, I chase the rogue who had ripped from my fingertips my love, my woman, my heart, she for whom I have traveled the oceans, fought in battle, bled, and killed.

My heart aches throughout the long ride with the memory of those brief moments of kissing and holding you after last night’s hard fought battle. Close held in my heart, I replay over and over, your beauty and your sobbing joy of relief at our long sought reunion.

Gritting and grinding my teeth as the frustration sets in, I hold back the madness that dances at the edge of my reason by determination and sheer strength of will.

I travel nonstop through the night, with my quarry often in my sight. At other times, the horse and rider who has absconded with you, pull far away into the distance.

I keep going long past all endurance. As the moon descends and reaches one horizon, the eastern sky is set afire by the rising of the sun. I stop my horse. It needs a rest, and for the battle sure to come, I would not chance my mount dying under me, if I can help it, from exhaustion.

At the small oasis outside of the town the villain had entered as a refuge, I water my horse and check my gear.

My sabre, is gone, the blade ruined in the last battle. I feel naked without it. I do carry two throwing knives, and have all six of my pistols armed and ready. The robe I have been wearing is in such a sorry state I discard it, the damage from the melee rendering it beyond repair.

Grabbing a few ripened figs from the trees I am ready to go once again. I approach the town at a trot, conserving my mount’s strength.

I know something of this town. It is not particularly big and is more river town than a desert refuge. Commerce comes from up and down the Nile in the form of trade goods, fish, cruises for visitors, and on occasion artifacts and treasure plundered from some tomb in the surrounding area.

It is an area filled with palms, well-manicured gardens, hanging plants from balconies and overhangs. There are several inns and bathhouses, as well as a largish courtyard with the usual obnoxious vendors hawking their cheap wares throughout the day to the unwary travelers passing through.

Outside the town and away from the Nile’s influence, it is desert for miles -- rocky, sandy, rarely spotted by small oases, difficult country.

Overall though, it is a nice town.

Approaching the well outside of town, I espy a young shepherd boy. I toss the lad a silver coin, which he laughingly catches.

“The rider earlier, with the woman, where are they?” I ask him.

His smile falters as he sees my earnest expression, and replying with respect, “The far side of town in a camp just on the outskirts, near the waterfront, there are several men with him, Lord.”

“How many?” I demand with a scowl.

“Fifteen, maybe twenty. They are Sheikh Hamad’s people. Very bad men. I think they are preparing to depart on the Sheikh’s felucca,” he answers.

“My thanks, little one,” I conclude as I ride off.

 

[Mrtenant]

As the sun crests the horizon, the voices rise and the activity around the camp increases. The men are arguing.

The Official is clearly in command but the men all seem to have an edge of fear about them as they scurry to gather supplies and cart them towards the river. The Official sends off riders with messages or errands as the morning progresses.

The camp is positioned close to the Nile and there is some kind of well-maintained pier, probably private. Through the rushes, shrubbery, and palms there is a handsome felucca close by, outfitted with a cabin, covered outer deck, gleaming railings and lanterns, and what appears to be clean new highly polished woodwork.

It can be sailed with one or both sails. It is a masterful piece of craftsmanship.

Nearby is a single story brick and stone building with a few latticed windows of the mid-east variety. Occasionally a woman of middle age comes out and gathers water from the Nile and returns inside. She does this many times without stop.

The sun’s heat quickly intensifies as the morning wears on; there is no canopy or shade for the white slave girl who has been well secured to a stake since the night.

As the men scurry to follow the Official’s orders, the Sheikh’s latest acquisition is largely forgotten as the camp is busy making preparations to leave.

The capture of Lord Hamad has everyone frantic. The Official always stands close muttering under his breath and staring down at his prisoner.

 

[cascadiabound]

I am so sore and stiff from the long ride slung over a saddle and being bound awkwardly to a stake throughout the night.

With a bare mat between my body and the ground, my head still throbs from the goose-egg where the Official had knocked me unconscious. I stir awake in the morning light to the sounds of the men moving about camp in seeming haste – calling out to each other.

There is a cacophony of orders and questions, shouts and curses as they appear to break camp and prepare to depart once more. The Official bosses everyone around rudely – he seems to need to make a point of asserting his authority.

He curses loudly when he is displeased or when he thinks one of the men is not following orders quickly or accurately enough.

The Official​

I have seen his kind before. In fact, I was engaged to one such as he. Cruel. Entitled. Mean-spirited. Men of his ilk can be found the world over, I think, and it is not necessary to understand their words to take their meaning, clear as a bell.

I shiver in disgust and fear. Once again I am a prisoner. Helpless. At the mercy of these desert outlaws. I say a quick prayer for your safety and that you may come quickly. The idea that we might be parted for days, or weeks once again is more than my poor heart can bear.

Cautiously I open my eyes to gauge my surroundings. I listen intently to the voices and watch the various pairs of feet running and walking past me. There seems to be about twenty men in all.

Far fewer than it had seemed when I had first been stolen from my love and dragged away kicking and screaming on the back of the Official’s horse.

The river is close. I can feel a slight morning breeze and through the vegetation – grasses and low shrubs, there is a sailboat secured to a pier nearby. It is elegant and of a style I have never seen before.

Tall triangular sails on a tall mast and a beautiful enclosed cabin exhibiting some of the finest craftsmanship I have ever seen. The woods are honey and amber colored and set off with bronze fittings polished to a high sheen. Surely this is one of Sheikh Hamad’s boats.

The Official never moves more than a few paces from where I lie. From time to time I can feel his searing gaze burn into my flesh, his mutterings and vile whispers about his intentions to defile and use me seem calculated to raise my hackles and instill an ever deepening fear.

I want to curl into a ball to protect myself from his gaze, but I am terrified that this would alert him to my wakeful state… and prematurely endanger myself further.

Visions of the Slavic girl being whipped to shreds in front of all of Hamad’s men have visited me as night terrors two nights in a row… and even now, as I close my eyes, the image of her beaten and bloody body is seared on the inside of my lids. I quake in fear.

No doubt any of these men who now hurry around this camp could and would wield a whip against a slave girl such as me without a second thought if they found me disobedient or simply if it pleased them to do so.

 

[cascadiabound]

In the morning light, I see a young woman emerge from a small, but fine looking building with decorative shutters, traverse the path to the river with a large pitcher, fill it and return, heavily laden with water, repeating the journey at about ten minute intervals. I begin to mark the passage of time by her work and use her calm demeanor as she walks back and forth to calm my mind.

I must not think the worst. My love will come for me. He cannot be far behind, he knows just where I am, and I must simply place my trust in him.

I think over the brief moments we were reunited – the passion of his kiss as he swept me into his arms and cut my chains, the comfort of resting my head against his chest as he took report from his men. We are two halves of one soul. We are meant to be together.

A snatch of a poem comes to mind as I think of him… something I recall from years earlier:

Always

You were you
and I was I;
we were two
before our time

I was yours
before I knew,
And you have always
been mine too.​

The poem captures how I feel perfectly. I recite it over and over in my mind.

I am unable to suppress a small smile as I recall the feel of his body against mine, the joy in my heart as I espied his handsome form…my love, my love, my love. I pray my upturned lip does not give me away to my captors.

I refocus on the pain in my head, the ache in my wrists now burning from the rope bindings. I become acutely aware of the soot in my hair, the sweat and sand and dirt now caked into my skin from the hard ride and the night sleeping on a crude camp mat.

Oh, what I would give for a bath. Any bath at all. But to have the luxury of that bath the Sheikh’s women gave me ~ could it be ~ only two days ago??? Well – a girl can dream.

 

[AbsintheFather]

Wow - this story has more twists than a corkscrew.

I just got caught up while having lunch. Incredible project !

 

[Mrtenant]

Wow - this story has more twists than a corkscrew.

I just got caught up while having lunch. Incredible project !

It does have a few.... glad you are keeping up! More coming my friend.

 

[Mrtenant]

Slowly the Official’s attention is drawn away from his prisoner… a faint thundering rumbles in the distance, gradually growing closer and louder.

With the unmistakable noise, the working men around you eventually start yelling excitedly and start running here and there, every which way. It is the thunder of hoof beats approaching the camp at great speed. GALLOPING HORSES(<<<click this link)

In a short space of time, gunshots ring out GUNSHOTS!!(<<<click this link) and men start screaming!

As some shots make their mark, men fall to the ground groaning as their lives ebb away.

The Official yells out his orders, practically screaming in his fear.

 

[Tallcajun]

I've got quite a bit to catch up on, which I will tonight.
Note: I watched the movie Hidalgo the other night and my kept drifting back to this story. Onward, listers.

 

[Susurration]

You've left it right on a cliff hanger there! Will they get there in time?

The pictures are wonderful again, especially those of the desert and the scenery.

 

[Mrtenant]

I've got quite a bit to catch up on, which I will tonight.
Note: I watched the movie Hidalgo the other night and my kept drifting back to this story. Onward, listers.

That is one of my alltime favorite movies! Glad you are tracking with us TC. Good to see you.

You've left it right on a cliff hanger there! Will they get there in time?

The pictures are wonderful again, especially those of the desert and the scenery.

I know, I know, cliffhangers- any decent story needs one or two. Let's go ahead and jump, shall we!

Thank you, re the pictures.

 

[Mrtenant]

CLICK HERE FOR AUDIO TRACK
Mr. T & Cascadia recommend you open the audio track
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able to listen while reading this post. Enjoy!​

As I enter the town, I am met by a handful of my marines from the battle, including Antoine and my cabin steward.

They bring me further supplies including some food and drink, and a beautiful, new, well crafted sabre- Hamad's in fact, I am told, and, lastly, taken from a spare horse, a saddle. All of which I am truly thankful for.

I see all of the men are similarly outfitted for battle as we ride off to Hamad’s camp. Their arrival is most timely and an unlooked for boon to me. They will all receive handsome bonuses if we survive the coming battle and I reach my goal.

My love! How my longing for her aches within my breast. I will retrieve her finally, or die trying.

Upon departing the town gates, I already am able to see Hamad’s private pier in the distance. With a snarl, I push that white stallion into a fierce gallop. The men do their best to keep up. My blood is up and I will win this battle or burn in hell, a failure.

As I storm into camp, I instantly dominate the battle whilst mounted on my large white stallion, shooting pistols and kicking attackers that get too close as I storm through the small camp! My fury and wake of devastation draws many foes.

Bodies litter the area as I fight and search for you. In the meantime, the marines continue to decimate Hamad’s men in hand to hand combat. We face at least twenty of his soldiers.

​

I use all my pistols with deadly accuracy. Once spent, I then draw and keep a throwing knife in one hand and draw my new sabre while the wheeling stallion rears on its hind legs!

At last! There you are! At the edge of camp near the river! I see you rising up from the ground as much as the limits of your rope bound wrists permit.

 

[Tallcajun]

Cascadiabound and Mr T!
Thanks for the latest. I get weary just thinking about all they've been through.

MrT, I really like Viggo Mortensen's work.

 

[Susurration]

Great pictures once again and a ferocious battle! I feel another twist coming.

 

[cascadiabound]

Cascadiabound and Mr T!
Thanks for the latest. I get weary just thinking about all they've been through.

MrT, I really like Viggo Mortensen's work.

They are rather running from one thing to another...thanks for keeping up!

Great pictures once again and a ferocious battle! I feel another twist coming.

Thanks Suss!
Another twist? Another turn? Stay tuned.