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

“Thank you, my love,” your voice hoarse with emotion. “I continue to be amazed by you… by your strength in a crisis. I see you have just completed your task here. I will call the men to the deck and we will have a brief Naval funeral for Mason and Cade.”

I nod and squeeze your hand, leaning into you. “Should we have them buried on shore immediately after?” I query quietly.

You nuzzle my hair, breathing deeply of my scent as you look over room, now tidy from my efforts.

Sighing, your brow furrows in thought. “We should arrive in town within two hours. I have sent men ahead to speak to the priest and make arrangements for a coffin and secure a mausoleum. They may be buried there just as well. The crew will consider that well done by them.”

Your jaw clenches in that way I have come to recognize. “We will have a proper Christian funeral for Gerard. And tonight we shall have a feast to honour him as well as Cade and Mason.”

Together we stand quietly at the head of each dead man in turn, and one by one you make the sign of the cross on each man’s forehead. Your grief is palpable. I light a taper to burn for each man, and we leave them to God and the spirit world.

Hand in hand we walk through the infirmary. I check the bandages for bleeding, odor, or any sign of infection. You speak to each man in low tones. You tell them how lucky they are to have the best nurse in the world. I blush with your praise.

Only one man is unconscious. I fear he will not live through the day. There is little I can do for him. He sustained three bullet wounds to his belly and one to his thigh. I do not have the skill to remove the lead.

I had given him a large draught of laudanum when he was still conscious and now I dab more on his lips. He is very pale. I suspect he is bleeding internally. It will be a mercy if he never wakes.

Completing our rounds, we return to our suite. I change into the black gown. It would not be fitting for a woman to attend a funeral in britches. I tie a black armband around your right bicep.

Not having a mirror, I ask you to inspect my outfit… to check its fit and that it drapes well enough. You smile slightly for the first time since yesterday.

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“Yes, my love. None could look more beautiful in black than you do in that dress. You do me proud.”

You kiss me. A soulful kiss, full of passion and love. A kiss unlike any that has come before.

“Darling,” your voice is urgent, “the days ahead will have many dangers. Together, you and I will come through it all unscathed. I know it. Your Captain is in his element. Your faith in me is well placed.”
 
Walking hand in hand among the dead we stop at each man in turn. Next our attention turns to the wounded. I offer words of thanks and encouragement to all. I let them know they are attended by the best nurse in all the world.

After a bit we leave the infirmary to prepare for the ceremony honouring Cade and Mason.

At our cabin, you strip out of your britches and shirt and lath your body briefly with a sponge at the wash basin. I cannot help myself, I watch with growing interest.

You don the most beautiful black gown I have ever seen. I cannot imagine it was for an event such as this, though it will serve admirably. You are a beautiful woman. You blush as I tell you so. I am so proud of you.

'Ere we leave the cabin, I lean in and caress your cheek, your hair, pondering the rarities of life, the fleetingness of existence, and the love that pounds through my heart for you.

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I take you in my arms and press my lips softly against yours feeling the electricity sparkle between us, lost in this one moment, this one soul searing kiss which I feel through every fiber of my being, forgetting to breathe, to think, and only feeling you and that perfect kiss.

With my dark eyes wide and lost in your hazel jewels, we separate finally from a kiss I will not forget for the rest of my life.

We exit the cabin together and, moments later, the crew gathered, I perform the ceremony for the passing of Mason and Cade in battle. The men are uncomfortable and yet it is part of the culture of my ship and crew.
 
A quarter hour later, the men are all gathered on deck and the watch bell rings out. You speak the words of the Naval funeral rites. The men shift from one foot to another. Your voice is steady.

I stand outside the circle of men, respectfully watching the proceedings. And then it is over. The men scurry back to their work, and you stride over to me and hug me tightly, lifting me into the air as you do so.

“Come to the wheelhouse with me, my love. I want you with me every moment.” You invite me with a familiarity I have grown accustomed to. It fills me with pleasure.

“Yes, my dear. I want that too. Grant me a few moments to check on the crewmen in the infirmary? I will be there anon.”

And so, I am with you at the wheel of the Lysanadra when we come into port less than an hour later. The Coptic cathedral is beautiful and prominent on the shoreline.

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The priest meets us at the dock with your men who bring on board a simple casket.

You select five others and along with yourself, carry the casket into the church, placing it on a platform in front of the iconostasis, and the sacramental altar. When all are gathered, the priest processes up the center aisle and presides over the Mass.

Dourly, the priest reminds those gathered that all will die, and we should therefore prepare now to face judgment. “Death is only a door to eternity, in which there is no remainder,” he intones.

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Together we recite the Lord’s Prayer and the Nicene Creed and then a woman wails a hymn of sorrow. GRIEF SONG(<<<click this link)

At the close of prayers, all recess, with you and a few of your men carrying the casket. The rest of us trail behind in a rag tag procession to the mausoleum not far from the riverside cathedral.

Once again, pall bearers, you among them, carry the simple casket into the crypt. I can see a few shoulders heaving in grief. The priest utters the interment rites and in a few short moments it is over, the door is shut with terrible finality.

The crew huddle together in silence, each attendant upon their own thoughts - an eerie calm settling over the assembly.

As I look to you, I observe you going from one man to another, speaking to them in low tones. I overhear you say to one of them,

“Gerard believed death to merely be a door to eternity. May God prepare him for Paradise.”
 
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We take care of our own in life and in death. After the ceremony, I detain the men a moment longer.

Clearing my throat, I address my men, my voice carrying across the deck,

“At sea, we know it is a hard life. We learn we must always take care of our own. Sadly, last night we lost three good men. In the days ahead, we may lose more. It is our trade. By my troth, soon we will leave this accursed land and return to the sea where we belong."

The men listen, nodding slightly as I speak.

"I do not make light of the sacrifices of any, only know, like any other venture, the stakes are high and the rewards are great. It is the adventure we wanted, it is the life we live. Shortly we will put into the church on yonder shore and take care of our people, and then... we will GET.. THE.. HELL.. OUT ..OF .. HERE!!!”

The men cheer! CHEERS!(<<<click this link)

I hug you tightly, then lift you up and kiss you passionately as the men scatter towards their stations.

“Come to the wheelhouse with me, my love. I want you with me every moment,” I crave your presence.

And, anon, you do so, after once more checking on the crewmen in the infirmary.

Finally, together in the wheelhouse, we discuss upcoming events.

Pulling into portage nigh on the Coptic church, we are met by the priest and my men with a casket. While long and at times tedious, the Coptic rites and ceremony are necessary this day.

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Before sunset, this day, Gerard, Cade, and Mason are attended to in their death. I have quiet words with many of the men as we return to the Lysandra.

With the ceremony done we return to the ship greeted by the heavenly scents of a well prepared feast. The chef has outdone himself again with shawerma, baladi bread, humus and many other fine Egyptian foods.
 
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Returning to the Lysandra after the service and internment, I watch you with your men. You are a fine commander. They clearly respect you, young and old alike.

You have handled yourself admirably in this crisis, though clearly, it has worn on you. Quickly I return to the infirmary to check on the men, worried I have left them too long while we have been ashore.

Four of the men are conscious, but not yet ready to return to duty. The fifth man looks worse, his colour sallow, his pulse faint and his breathing shallow.

I press more laudanum to his lips and then hasten to the kitchen to obtain Mulukhiya soup (a kind of chicken soup) and baladi bread for my patients.

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The cook is most accommodating to me, and Aiden, still on assignment, shuttles the food to the infirmary for me.

Settling myself on a cot, still in my black gown, I assist the men in succession with their food. I check their wounds. One has a bullet that I can now isolate in the upper part of his chest. I must remove it and soon.

Another man has a bad wound that really needs sutures. Now that the ship is at anchor again and Gerard and the others have been interred, I can turn my attention to these.

Mindful of this, I put water on to boil. I can hear the festivities beginning on the main deck, and the food smells so good, but I already feel such guilt for not having attended to the men's wounds sooner.

I am only one person and can only do so much. Tying on an apron, I place the instruments I will need in the now steaming water. BOILING WATER(<<<click this link)

Aiden looks in and I call to him – “I will need some help here. You do not faint at the sight of blood do you?”

He blanches slightly, but shakes his head as he enters the room. He is so tall he has to duck slightly.

I work efficiently, directing my helper with what I need. I give the patient a stiff draught of whisky; clean the area with alcohol and give the man a rolled up piece of rawhide to bite on.

Steadying my hand, and using a sharp blade, freshly out of the boiling water, I slice into the skin, my clean fingers probing for the hard nub of lead as the blood occludes my vision.

The man groans in pain and I murmur under my breath, trying to calm him as I recall Doc Harper doing.

I slide my finger around the lead and then, removing my hand from the wound, motion for a clamp – slipping the probe into the space, I feel the hard gravel of metal against metal... I grasp the bullet and pull….

It takes more strength than I expected, but it releases… along with another flood of blood, initially dark and then bright red. I staunch the wound with clean cotton towels and then secure it with a wrap.

Similarly, I attend the other man, this time, just cleaning the wound, freshening the edges to make them approximate better. Then using a lightweight linen thread, I stitch the edges together, treating it, as Doc Harper used to say, “…like a careful hem job.”

By the time I have washed all the blood from my hands and wrists and shed the apron, I feel the exhaustion begin to overtake me.

Aiden has brought an extra rattan chair from the upper deck as if he could read my mind, setting it next to the unconscious sailor. I sit upon it, promising myself it will only be for a few moments.

I do not know how much time has passed, when I am shaken awake.

“M’lady? M’lady? Dinner is served. I know the Captain will be looking for you.” Groggily, I quickly attempt to gather my senses.

It is Aiden, the sailor who has been assisting me these last hours. “The men are doing fine. You must come and eat.”

He offers his arm, which I take, feeling a bit unsteady and light- headed. It is true. I do need to eat sup. It has been many many hours.

He escorts me to the upper deck where the revelry is in full swing. Your eyes light up when you see me. DINNER PARTY(<<<click this link)

“Aiden? Please check on the men in the infirmary every quarter hour without fail. Can I count on you? If anything changes, please come and get me at once.” I give final orders to him.

He nods briskly. “Yes, m’lady, you can count on me. It will be done.”
 
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~~Mrtenant and Cascadiabound invite you all ~~
for your viewing pleasure, to watch the following Youtube Video
Made especially for this Post.
:heart::heart::heart:CLICK HERE FOR THE VIDEO #4:heart::heart::heart:​


The feast carries on long into the night as, one by one, the crew relay some favorite story about some event or another they had shared with one of the three fallen men. DINNER PARTY(<<<click this link)

We drink toast after toast until, one at a time, the crewmen nod off in their excess. It is a bittersweet feast. Late into the night, the watch is set and the rest of the crewmen retire finally for a rest.

You and I make the rounds to every station to encourage the men and to give final instructions to the night watch leader.

I entreat you to come to the cabin with me. As the cabin door closes behind us, we reach for each other, looking soulfully into each others eyes once again.

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Wordlessly, we know what we desire- what we require of each other. I take your arm and guide you toward the bed.

Taking you in my arms, I kiss you, once again with another time stopping perfect kiss. Your soft lips beg for more and passionately sear me with your love. I do not know how you do it. I do not care. I must, I will have more!

The kiss intensifies as we breathe. I reach behind your dress and release the fastening. Your naked back is suddenly wholly exposed to my touch as the dress falls and pools at your feet. A few more of your under-things fall as I open my shirt.

I lie you down upon the bed, your skin glowing warmly, naked, in the surrounding candlelight. Your long hair spreads way out behind you as you look up at me with that familiar gaze of dreamy adoration.

My clothes then drop, in not so elegant a fashion, but off they go. I step towards you and lie upon the bed next to you.

Together, we slowly, sweetly, make love for hours. Our passionate cries are far softer and barely heard as we gently bring each other to one climax after another, before finally falling asleep in each others arms a few hours before the dawn.
 
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The evening is most pleasant. The food delicious. The many stories the sailors tell fill my ears and my imagination.

The mood of the men is deeply bittersweet. I know how sad you are, though you hide it well from the crew.

When most of the men have drunk well past their fill and have toddled off to their bunks, you guide me to our cabin wordlessly. We have been apart the whole day, it has been strange to be so.

Your need for me is evident. Our kisses are fiery and nearly light up the night with our deep passion. It has been a difficult day.

It has been a day full of terror and fighting, death and recovery, loss and the struggle to collect ourselves to go on. And so many unknowns in the coming days.

We have learned the rhythm of each other over these days and now we fall into each other’s arms with a need that is more than physical.

The sweetness of our lovemaking somehow reverberates your grief in the loss of your friend with the pain of these last hours.

The weight of command is briefly released from your shoulders as we slowly consume each other, our moans low and soft as we cling to each other in mutual climax. We fall asleep curled tightly together.

Just before dawn, a few short hours later, I awake with a start. The earliest birds are stirring. The sun will not break the horizon for another hour, but the sky is just beginning to lighten.

Very carefully, I disentangle my limbs from yours, and slip from bed. Stealthily, taking care to not wake you, I light a single candle and dress hastily in britches and a blouse. Still in bare feet, I leave the cabin.

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I am startled to find McCord standing guard just outside our door.

“M’lady?” he whispers, “Do you need something? You must not wander the decks alone in the dark.”

In a hushed voice, I respond, “Oh, yes, I am fine. But I must check on the crewmen in the infirmary. There is one I am especially worried for.”

McCord, leans over the deck and gets the attention of another sailor. With a few words the man is sent to get Aiden. I wait. Moments later, Aiden appears, looking slightly rumpled and tired.

“I am sorry to rouse you so early, but I have duties to attend to in the infirmary. What is the status of the men?” I look at him sternly, “Have you had someone checking on them through the night?”

“Yes, yes, m’lady, I myself have come to you directly from there,” he looks sheepish. “I did sleep a bit, but they are no worse for wear.”

By this time we have arrived at the infirmary. I quickly check each man in turn. They are all asleep and relatively hale. I think all will be able to return to duty later today.

All except the last. I lean over him. His breath is barely discernible. I am unable to feel a pulse even in his throat.

With a sigh I thank Aiden. “Go to bed. You need some actual sleep. The Captain will want you at full strength. I need nothing more for now.” In a thrice he is gone.

I light a candle, and after using a warm cloth to wash his face and hands, I settle into the chair next to the dying man. I take his hand in mine. I pray for his soul. As I sit there… I feel him slip away and his hand goes cold.

The ship’s bell rings CLANG-RING!!!<<<(click this link) and the anchor is weighed. CLANKING CHAIN(<<<click this link) It occurs to me that in a few hours we will be back in Cairo.

I wait for the sun to rise, before I move again. I cover his body. Stepping out onto the deck, I find Aiden sitting watch just outside.

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He never did go back to his bunk. He helps me move the man out of the infirmary and I begin to prepare the body. Once again, there is no time to waste.

I am efficient in my work. You appear in the door just as I am washing my hands. SPLASHING WATER(<<<click this link) I know I must look wrung out.

“I’ve been looking for you. McCord told me you were here.” Your voice is quiet. “I do not like awakening without you.”

I nod.

Your eyes take in the room. The shrouded body. You look at me sharply. “He died then?”

I nod again.

“Oh darling. You care deeply for your charges, that is evident.” You gather me into your arms and hold me tight.

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“I need you by my side, darling. With Gerard gone, and Antoine gone ahead, you are my partner now. My woman.” Your tone is quiet. Firm.

“We will be in Cairo by noon. Alafdahl’s men will be there to reinforce us. We have a fight ahead of us.”

“Yes, we do, my love. The fight of our lives,” I reply, nodding solemnly.

Hand in hand we walk out onto the deck. I bring my other hand up to briefly touch the pearl earring where my ear still aches from the new piercing. I look up at you… oh, how I love you so! I will never forget these days together. The river is beautiful in the early light. The river bends and the masts in the Cairo harbour come into view.
 
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I awaken and reach for you. I feel around the bed and suddenly am wide awake. You are gone! Looking around, you are nowhere about the cabin. Now I am truly alarmed!

Getting up, I retrieve my trousers and have them on instantly along with my boots. Throwing my shirt on I quickly grab my sword belt and am out the door in seconds.

I startle McCord with my abruptness.

“Kezziah? Where has she gone?” I demand.

“Infirmary, Sir,” he answers quickly.

“McCord, get to the helm and take us out. I will be there in short order.”

“Aye Captain,” he responds crisply, as he moves to follow orders promptly .

Thoughtfully, I stride straightaway towards the infirmary. Kezziah is so devoted to her work. However, I cannot have her wandering about without my knowledge. At least…not now, we must get the hell out of Egypt. It is time, perhaps past time.

Arriving at the makeshift infirmary, I pause at the doorway. There you are, washing your hands, WASHING HANDS(<<<click this link) The simplest things you do – they never fail to capture my heart. We speak briefly. My tone, initially sharp with worry causes a look of panic to cross your features. My heart melts, and my tone immediately softens as I take in the scene and comprehend what you have been contending with here.

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I take your hand in mine. We walk out together onto the open deck. The freshness of the morning surrounds us as the port of Cairo comes into view in the distance.

Smiling, I take you in my arms and then look into your eyes briefly, lean in and kiss your lips softly, slowly, as if it is the last kiss we would ever share. Your lips are so soft and lush, your scent, and presence fill my heart with an ache for you more profound than anything I have ever felt.

The kiss ends, and as we separate, I kiss your forehead once and smile.

“Darling, we are needed at the helm. Food will be brought. Battle is imminent now and, darling, you must know my place is there – with the crew, and I need you with me, by my side." I start.

Continuing, "This is why I insisted on your training. In battle especially I will not allow your safety to be entrusted to any other. Let us see to our weapons, quickly now.”

We hasten to the cabin and secure our weapons. I check your bandoliers, and affix the extra shot and powder horn to myself, explaining,

“As the fighting erupts, you will do the shooting in close quarters, I will keep the pistols loaded and defend with my sword. Any questions?”

After a brief conversation and a last embrace, we make for the helm. Along the way we encourage the men with praise and good cheer. The end of this business in Cairo is nigh and all know it.

At the helm, I dispatch McCord to bring us breakfast and to see to the wounded as directed by Kezziah, as I take the wheel. We will need everyone.

McCord returns with bread, cheese and figs. Before he leaves, I direct him to have the prearranged signal sent, several fire arrows shot from the hunting bows.

As the fire arrows arc into the sky,
ARROWS SHOT(<<<click this link) several others away in the distance also arc into the sky from two different directions. ‘Tis the Constantine and Alafdahl!

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This story is like the waves, going from the highs of love to the lows of death, while being wonderfully described. The audio and pictures make it all so much more evocative too. Thank you so much for continuing to work on this :).
 
Susurration said:
This story is like the waves, going from the highs of love to the lows of death, while being wonderfully described. The audio and pictures make it all so much more evocative too. Thank you so much for continuing to work on this :).
Click to expand...
Thank you for continuing with us on our tale of love and adventure.
Please note: if you have not had a chance to view any if the special u-tube videos...Met and I would like to call your special attention to them. We have produced them specifically for this story. :rose:
Tallcajun said:
I, too, have finally caught up.
No rest for the weary.
Click to expand...
Hi TC! Glad you had a chance to catch up. A few more twists and turns to come. Eat your wheaties. You will need a flagon and some extra protein for the next bit.

Cascadia. :heart:
 
Your worry for me is evident, your tone, urgent. Your kisses convey a passion and depth of feeling that grows daily.

I can feel the adrenaline coursing through me as we prepare for battle. I watch your jaw clench and unclench as you go through the motions of preparing for the fight ahead. The weariness falls away as I hasten by your side on the long decks of the Lysandra and then quickly review our weapons and dress for what will surely come next.

I struggle to shift gears from nursemaid to woman at arms. Back in our cabin, I dress in my britches and boots, strap on my bandolier and check the condition of each pistol I will carry, making sure it is ready for firing. You check over my weapons, smiling with pride as you see they are all perfectly in order.

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In my mind’s eye, I review the drills we practiced for hours on the island together, until it became second nature. In those practice sessions, I learned to trust you and, in turn, you discovered I would reliably do as you needed. I only hope that in the heat of real battle these drills will hold me in good stead and I will not lose my nerve.

You remind me of the basic plan, “You will do the shooting in close quarters, I will keep the pistols loaded and defend with my sword.” I nod my understanding.

Together we go to the helm. Your step is long and quick. I struggle to match your pace as you stride purposefully, your boot heels sharply sounding against the decks. BOOTS ON WOOD(<<<click this link)

McCord steps into the wheelhouse cabin for orders. You dispatch him to get us breakfast. I detain him briefly before he departs,

“Could you please make sure the men in the infirmary also get breakfast? I think they should be well enough to return to duty today. Please advise me immediately if otherwise.”

“Yes, m’lady, I will see to it,” he smiles diffidently, his eyes kind, his manner competent. I can see why you have entrusted him to be your second, now that Gerard is gone.

The Lysandra makes good progress down the river, the sun now just barely above the horizon. I scan into the distance…

…fire arrows arc into the sky from our ship. ZING!(<<<click this link)​

It is remarkable how high they fly, trailing tendrils of black smoke. And moments later, more arrows in the sky up ahead – if I did not know they were the opening signal of the battle to come, I would be delighted in their beauty. Instead, they strike fear into my heart.

I turn to you, looking for reassurance. Your eyes are calm. You seem to know just what I need.

Wordlessly, your arm wraps around my waist and you guide me out on the deck once more. The closeness of your body, the feel of being just tucked under your arm, are exactly what I need in this moment.
 
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I feel as though the story is building to another crescendo here. That's a great picture you've chosen for the latest episode of the story too.
 
I direct a sailor to take the helm and guide you towards the railing. I open my spyglass and hand it to you, then take out the Lysandra’s spyglass for myself. Taking a quick look, I direct you to view the port ahead.

I hear you gasp as you take in the view. At the port there are tendrils of smoke and many ships in the water. One is the Constantine leaving its moorings and sailing towards us.

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There are three others already out in the river, they appear to be Russian. An American vessel also appears to be leaving its moorings from a different direction, heading the same destination as the Constantine.

“You can tell their allegiance from the flags flying at the top of the main mast, darling. The Constantine will rendezvous with us. The American schooner closing with her is the Jean Pierre whose home port is New Orleans,” I smile with satisfaction.

"Her Captain is a wily Cajun, Reggie Mouton. We are fortunate he is here,” I grin.

“Reggie sails with Lafitte. We would not have his assistance without the work of Nathaniel.”

Your eyes widen at the mention of Lafitte. The entire Caribbean know of Lafitte and his operations. With this adventure, we touch, however remotely, upon a true legend.

As we watch, two of the Russian ships move to intercept the Constantine and a third heads directly for us. Their upper decks are filled with men. Hamad’s crew no doubt.

“Sound the alarm McCord, get the men to battle stations!” ALARM BELL(<<<click this link)

“Kezziah! To arms! Remember your training, stay by my side. The fighting is likely to get thick, stay alert and you will be fine. Do not lose sight of me. This is as much for my good health as it is for yours.”

Raising the spyglass again, I espy yonder, the ships closing and the coming disposition of the battle.

The air, of a sudden, becomes live with tension as the Russian’s fire their cannon
CANNON FIRE!!!(<<<click this link) at the Constantine. Most miss the mark as the cannoneers have yet to achieve the range necessary.

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Two cannonballs do destroy a bit of upper railing and one of the crew crumples beyond.

The Constantine sails on, returning fire from the rear cannon as the Jean Pierre closes in with more shots at two of the pursuing Russians.

You grip my arm and make a small cry at the noise and watch through the spyglass the results of the cannon fire. The chaos builds around us and I see a hint of fear in your eyes. You meet my iron gaze as my brow furrows with anticipation of the coming melee.
 
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In the distance, I can see sailing ships maneuvering in rather close quarters at the harbour entrance. At the rate we are traveling we will soon be upon them. I cannot tell the flags they are flying, as the colours are but smudges in the early light.

I feel a heightened alertness coursing through my body. I am grateful for your steady presence next to me. You have done your best to prepare me.

Still. It is difficult for me to imagine. I have never even witnessed a battle between sea going ships, only read of the encounters long after they are concluded.

Standing at the rail you hand me your spyglass. I have never looked through one, though I have seen you use it from time to time. You smile, encouragingly. I lift it to my eye as I have seen you do, and am taken aback at the view through it!

Never did I think it would bring the scene right to my feet! The ships are as if a few hundred feet off our rail; I can see the men on deck and clearly make out the mast flags.

Looking through a second spyglass, you direct my attention to one ship after another, making sure I understand what I am seeing. Already the ships are engaged in battle!

The cannons fire BOOM!!!(<<<click this link) -- the sound carries across the water, the smoke acrid and billowing as the cannon-shot makes its mark.

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It is challenging for me to take in all the details as you direct my attention to this and that so rapidly as I observe the battle. I watch your ship, the Constantine, under attack! Your calm demeanour in the face of what is at hand somehow quiets my pounding heart.

The fact Nathaniel has more than made good to assist us, causing the Americans to come to our aid, fills my heart with gratitude. I turn my spyglass to the ship you call the Jean Pierre. Praying for the men upon her to be of good heart as they fight with us.

One of the Russian's ships, under orders of Hamad, turns towards us, making good headway.

“Sound the alarm!” you cry, and McCord hastens to do your bidding – all the men running to their battle stations. RINGING BELL(<<<click this link)

The cannon fire gets nearer and several shots go off at once. I jump involuntarily, crying out, clutching your arm as I see men go down of mortal wounds. Immediately I scold myself,

Kezzie, you must not act like a child. He needs you to be strong now. To fight at his side. I take a deep breath, attempting to calm myself.

This will surely get worse before we come through it. Echoing in my ears are your words I must keep in the forefront of my thoughts now…

“Remember your training, stay by my side. Stay alert and you will be fine. Do not lose sight of me.”

The ships begin to close with us. The smoke on the water thickens and the chaos and tension is palpable. I look into your dark eyes, smouldering with intensity and an iron will. I will remain at your side though it all.

I know you will keep me safe no matter what. I stiffen my own spine as I hear the alarm bells sound in Cairo.
 
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The roar of cannon-fire
CANNON FIRE!!!(<<<click this link) echoes all around us amid the shouting and cheers of the Lysandra crew. In the distance, the alarms bells ALARM BELL(<<<click this link) in Cairo sound as the battle escalates in the harbour.

The Jean Pierre engages the two pursuing Russians and catches them off guard. They had not thought to be concerned with the American schooner sailing close by.

One of the Russian ships lose their main mast, crippling them with the surprise cannon-fire of the Americans! The other ship then maneuvers to engage the Jean Pierre in defense of its mate.

The Constantine and the third Russian sloop exchange minor damaging cannon fire CANNON FIRE!!!(<<<click this link) again as they close upon the Lysandra. As the Constantine pulls alongside, their grappling hooks arc out and catch upon the Lysandra’s rail. The two ships draw close.

“Now! McCord, get the loot off loaded!!” I shout amid the yells and cheers of the men.

McCord and his squad of men begin attaching the chests to the nets and harnesses lowered from the Constantine. Dozens of Alafdahl’s raiders cascade over the rails of the Constantine and release a volley of rifle fire GUNSHOTS!! (<<<click this link) at the approaching Russian sloop.

The Russians pull along the other side, their yells and small arms fire ringing out. We are joined in battle with the three ships - much like a small island.

My crewmen remain under cover as the Russians now throw their own grappling hooks, securing their ship to the Lysandra opposite of the Constantine.


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At the helm, I shout for my crew aboard the Lysandra to stand fast as Hamad’s raiders swarm the Russian decks preparing to board us. A few of them fall overboard mortally wounded from the rifle fire GUNSHOTS!! (<<<click this link) unleashed from Alafdahl’s raiders.

The first three chests from the Lysandra are transferred to the Constantine in moments. They are the most valuable, containing Hamad’s jewels, instruments, and artwork.

Before the hoist can be unloaded and sent back to the Lysandra, Hamad’s men begin their assault in earnest!
 
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The battle escalates more quickly than I could have imagined. The cannon-fire BOOM!!!(<<<click this link) is deafening as the volleys are exchanged between the ships.

It is terrifying to watch the main mast of a such a large ship fall into the water, the sails crumpling around it, the rigging a mess on deck and in the water, the ship, hopelessly crippled as a result.

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But even in the chaos, there is a certain amount of order. You shout orders and the crewmen obey. They hold firm in defense of the ship, and when the Constantine comes alongside, the coordination of so many men grappling the two vessels together is something to behold.

Would that I had the leisure to admire the efficiency of McCord and the rest as they quickly offload the chests of Hamad’s goods from the Lysandra.

As the battle heats up and Hamad’s Russian ships grow closer, I make sure I am never more than a step from your side. My hand on my pistol now, I am alert for your signal of what you would have me do, the cues we rehearsed. My mind racing to recall every step and move we practiced together.

I watch men fall from gun fire as Afadahl’s men shoot at will. We are so fortunate in our friends.

The gunfire BANG BANG!!(<<<click this link) is deafening now. The stink of gunpowder overwhelming, the smoke burning my eyes.

Turning, I see the Russian sloop grappling alongside the Lysandra. So close, I can almost smell the sweat on Hamad’s men as they prepare to board us.

The shouts and cries of the men in battle surround us. I look up at you. Your stance is defiant as you yell orders to fire at Hamad’s men.

Quickly you tie off the helm, and then turn, giving me a quick reassuring wink. Drawing your sabre, my hands quickly draw my pistols and I prepare to fire at your command!
 
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I tie off the helm and draw my sabre and a pistol even as you draw both of yours. Hamad’s men appear and shoot GUNSHOTS!! (<<<click this link) into the mass of Alafdahl’s raiders even as their own swing aboard from the rigging to engage. Several go down, wounded or dead.

I shout for the crew to open fire, whereupon they all rise and shoot as one. You and I fire as well. The crew yell and shout in their excitement. Many of Hamad’s raiders drop dead of bullet wounds even before they reach our decks.

As the crew withdraws back to cover, Alafdahl’s raiders surge forward and engage Hamad’s in a furious melee. You and I fire off our pistols GUNSHOTS !!(<<<click this link) as fast as we can.

After each volley, we either trade pistols or reset the flintlocks, picking off more raiders with deadly accuracy.

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In the midst of the firefight, men close at arms, swords and knives drawn, BATTLE WITH MUSIC***SPECIAL***(<<<click this link) the melee intense… the iron brazier is knocked over and a fire soon breaks out on deck!

The last of the loot is finally transferred aboard the Constantine and Antoine gives the signal to retreat. To a man, as planned, the crew of the Lysandra now withdraw, quickly scrabbling over the rails to rejoin their brothers on the brigantine. Alafdahl’s raiders fight furiously as they cover the retreat our retreat.

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You and I turn as one to withdraw to the Constantine – the fire on deck is growing by the minute, now that the loot all off loaded it is time to quit this ship. An angry Hamad blocks our path along with two of his men!

I step forward and engage his bodyguards with my sabre. One I kill with my first slash, the man’s entrails spilling onto the deck. The other, being a better swordsman,QUICK SWORD FIGHT(<<<click this link) keeps me occupied.

Hamad’s appearance seems to stun you into immobility and he snatches the unused pistol strapped to your thigh. He shouts, “HOLD!” as he levels the weapon at us with a look of baleful disdain.

“So, this is the Falcon of the Desert?” he sneers nastily. “Finally, I have you right where I want you!”

Hamad’s men begin to rally to him even as Alafdahl’s raiders press their attack.

Lowering my sabre I look on in fury at this turn of events. The remaining bodyguard swats my sabre from my grasp. You grip my arm and look to me in sheer terror.

Snarling in return, “You think you have won. You good for nothing dog, you have won nothing! You will be lucky to escape with your life!”

Grinning I take a step towards him even as he fires the pistol point blank towards my chest! I hear you exclaim in fear, your fingers trying to hold me back.

The pistol backfires towards Hamad’s face as it explodes within his grasp! He crumples to the ground before me, his hand and face a ruin of powder burns, blood and brains!

That older pistol came in handy after all! Thank goodness neither of us had fired it!

You gasp in horror at seeing Hamad's ruin. Grasping your hand tightly, I shout over the noise of the fray, “Time to go, my love!”

I kick out at Hamad’s bodyguard and snatch up my sabre QUICK SWORD FIGHT(<<<click this link) He recovers just in time to take my point through his heart.
 
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Antoine, from the Constantine’s deck, is shouting and motioning urgently for us to make way for the ship. We scramble away from the Lysandra helm and climb to the upper deck. Once there, one of the boarding ropes from the Constantine swings into view.

Wheeling, I draw my pistol and shoot one of Hamad’s raiders before grasping the rope at a run.

“Hold onto me darling!” I urge you with a kiss. Feeling your arms reach up and tighten around my waist as my arm slips around yours, we run for the rope. I catch it in full stride. Our momentum swings us up and aboard the Constantine even as more of Hamad’s raiders reach our last position!

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Aboard the Constantine, we duck and laugh behind the rail as enemy fire follows us. A few moments later, the last of Alfdahl’s men are aboard.

“Take us out, Antoine!” I shout. “NOW! NOW! NOW!”

Several of Hamad’s men try to reach us and are shot dead as we separate from the Lysandra. We leave behind the chaos of the battle. Hamad’s men scramble to get back aboard their ship as the Lysandra burns around them.

Our escape from the burning Lysandra is punctuated with a departing shot from our cannon at the Russian sloop. Hit just at the waterline, they disengage from the Lysandra and the battle. Her crew’s attention is now fully diverted, being engaged in the business of preventing themselves from sinking!

We are met by the Jean Pierre as, in tandem, our ships leave Cairo harbour. Fortune smiles on us both as we head, with speed, down the river.

I smile and laugh gratefully and grasp the arms of both Alafdahl and Antoine. As we sail downriver, I invite them both to my cabin with us for a meeting. Captain Mouton from the Jean Pierre will meet with us anon.

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McCord, I order to bring in one of the chests.

The second mate, Lawrence, takes the wheel as the smoke rises behind us in Cairo harbour. The Lysandra was a good ship. I shall remember her fondly.
 
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We scramble, at almost a run to the upper deck of the Lysandra. Antoine is yelling and shouting to you and then, a rope swings from the Constantine and before I know it, your arm grasps ‘round my waist and we are sailing in the air together over the rail to the deck of the Constantine.

Our feet barely touch the deck before you are ordering the men to take us out – "NOW NOW NOW!!!!!"

In moments all the grappling hooks are loosed and we are away from the river boat which, as I turn to look at it, is half engulfed in flames. Men are fleeing its decks like rats from a sinking ship.

Soon she will be nothing but ash and sodden burnt timbers on the river bottom. It saddens my heart, for she was a beautiful ship.

But – I always knew it was temporary. And not your ship. My heart still pounding, I cling to you. Your arm still strong around my waist. You dip your head to kiss me fervently.

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You guide me into your cabin telling me to wait for you. Moments later I hear you striding the deck, commanding the men, your laugh filling the air.

It has been a good day. We depart Cairo harbour. Never have I been so happy to leave a place in my life.

Peering out the cabin window I can see the fine schooner, the Jean Pierre keeping pace with us. From without, I hear you make plans for a meeting with Afadahl, and Captain Moutoun.

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I cannot appear thus for a meeting with such men. I must hurry to freshen up and change into a ladies gown. I wonder where the trunks from our suite are?
 
Antoine, brings me a damage and casualty report.The 2nd mate, Lawrence, brings me a weapons report.

I relay my orders for the ship and crew through them and soon the Constantine is sailing as fast as safely possible down the center channel of the Nile while the Jean Pierre keeps pace.

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Sheikh Alafdahl​

Alafdahl, in as good a humour as I have ever seen him, praises his men as he walks among them and then shortly joins me just as I meet up with Antoine on deck.

“Where to, Captain?” Antoine asks with a smile and a wink.

“We sail to Alexandria, Antoine. Have Lawrence take the helm,” I pause, glancing at my boots, and then meet his eyes again.

“Gerard is dead,” I grimace and note Antoine's eyes going wide at the news.

“Arrange a meeting with Captain Mouton within the hour." I continue.

"I will want you there along with the worthy Sheikh Alafdahl. I have promoted McCord to Cabin Steward. Have him prepare a reception." My brow furrows briefly.

"And Antoine...?"I conclude more personably, "Well done,” I grin broadly and grasp his shoulder, as he in turn grasps mine with a grin of long fellowship.

“Aye, Captain!” he responds as he turns to go about his duties.

We part for the moment. Looking amongst the twenty or so trunks and chests, I locate one in particular.

Hefting it and striding towards the cabin, I find myself humming the same tune from an evening now past. The tune I had sung to you whilst piercing your ears.

Banging open the cabin door with a boot, I hear your small startled cry as I stride in with the chest on my shoulder.

“Kezziah, darling, we will have guests here shortly. The wash basin is in the corner. Please darling. Be comfortable. You are aboard the Constantine, my ship. We are home!”

Setting the chest down, I sweep you up into my arms and kiss you. My passion for you is unending. The taste and feel of your lips against mine fire me to a burning pitch. And now, just fresh from the heat of battle and victorious, the vision of your loveliness is all it takes.

I want you desperately, and now! As I pepper your face, neck, lips, eyelids, and more with kisses, your small gasps and moans only serve to raise my ardour to a blazing inferno.

A double knock comes at the cabin door.

Reluctantly, I release you and cry out, “Enter!”

McCord, enters, nods smartly to me and leaves the chest as ordered. With a brief word about our soon-to-arrive guests, he departs with a nod.

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I heft the small chest to my desk and open it. It is filled with Hamad’s jewels. I reach in and grasp a handful, letting them cascade though my fingers and back into the chest.

“Darling, I have brought some of your clothes, in the trunk yonder. We will take care of our obligations to Mouton and Alafdahl with some of these jewels."

"I trust they will consider themselves well compensated for their efforts on our behalf." I glance towards you as I speak.

Continuing, "We will make a short stop in Alexandria where likely, I hope, we will rendezvous with Nathaniel and your Russian friend, as she has been convalescing there. Then, we are bound for open waters, at long last.”

I outline the remainder of our expedition as I watch you choose a gown from the selection within the chest.

“The blue one, Darling. The blue one is perfect for today,” I offer.

Companionably, our conversation touches on many things, the battle just won, Alexandria, the Russian girl, Nathaniel’s assistance in recruiting the Jean Pierre.

While I wash my face and watch you dress, it occurs to me you may want a privacy screen. My cabin has always suited me, however, it might benefit from a bit of polishing now that you are here.

While I am not given to sloth, it might feel less utilitarian a a bit more like a home with the addition of some treasures looted from the Lysandra.

I call you over to me and raise your skirts as you stand before me, until I can see your thighs. Whilst speaking, I slip a beautifully tooled leather garter around one thigh, buckling it into place, attaching a stiletto to it.

The other thigh receives a derringer with its garter. As each accessory is completed I kiss your inner thigh. I then wink and smile at you as I lower your skirts.

With a few final adjustments, I then smooth the skirt back down, and just then, there is another double knock at the door.
 
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You stride into the cabin, banging the door open with your foot, startling me. Setting down a large clothing trunk you grin at me broadly. The happiness exuding from you, now you are back on your ship, is infectious.

Having just defeated Hamad, I do not believe I have ever seen you more at ease. I love how affectionate you are – the way you gather me into your arms and kiss me every opportunity you have.

I rummage through the trunk for a gown, and you talk animatedly, outlining the plan for tonight’s meeting and the many days ahead. Suddenly, you interrupt your chain of thought to interject,

“The blue one, Darling. The blue one is perfect for today.”

I look up at you, smile, and pull the blue gown from the trunk, settled that I will wear it this evening if it will please you for me to do so.

As I dress, I can feel your eyes on me.

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You continue, “Darling, you shall be my partner in all things now we are aboard the Constantine, closer to me than my First Mate. We have already battled together and you have proven yourself indispensable to me."

"I intend to rely on you for many things.” I nod, humbled that you should feel this way. I listen carefully while I brush out my hair,

“I know we have discussed this some already, but you will be my woman, and a person to be reckoned with at all times. Darling, now that you are dressed, I have something for you.”

Crossing the cabin, I stand in front of you as you indicate. I regard you quizzically, uncertain what you have in mind. Your dark brown eyes regard me steadily and with sure hands you lift my skirts revealing my pale thighs in the bright light of the cabin.

“Hold your skirts up for me darling – just like this.”

My pulse quickens, my mind races and it takes a force of will to stand still for you, as your eyes rake my body. And then, your roughened hands caress my flesh causing me to quiver.

A moment later, you are fastening a soft leather strap high around my thigh, looking down, I can see that the leather is beautifully tooled with an intricately intertwined floral and leaf-work design. It has a pair of fine buckles and you fasten them tightly around my thigh, securing it firmly.

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Thereafter you slide a stiletto into its sheath on the garter strap. My eyes go wide as you turn to the other leg, fastening a matching strap, clasping the buckles tightly.

“My love, you are an excellent pistol shot, and I want you armed at all times. You are beautiful and we will often have dealings with dangerous men. Like this evening. Darling, you will be as deadly as you are beautiful and those who underestimate you will learn to rue the day.”

As you speak, you slide a small pistol into its holster on my right thigh. Looking into my eyes, you take my hands now, unclenching my fists from the fabric, kissing my hands.

You smooth my skirts back over my legs. The intimacy of this moment is intense. The level of trust between us like electricity in the air. I can feel my arousal from your handling of me. You have shown me how I must arm myself as your woman now.

My life as a Captain’s Woman has begun.
 

As I open the door, Antoine, Alafdahl, Captain Mouton await entry. I usher them within and McCord follows, presenting them formally, all, as they enter. A few moments later, McCord returns with wine and sliced bread from the ships’ stores.

Captain Mouton has an American swagger and a mischievous easy smile. He is tall and solidly built, having to duck to enter my cabin. He speaks with a languid accent I have seldom heard and it takes some getting used to. He peppers his conversation with bits of French, but there is something else too.



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Captain Regge Mouton​

His grey eyes seem to sparkle when he speaks and he exudes a sense of joie de vivre. He is deeply tanned from years at sea, and his face is a maze of lines which tell of many years of experience. His dark brown hair and close trimmed beard are accompanied with a ready smile.

One by one each man greets you respectfully with a bow or a slight kiss upon the back of your hand. Formalities complete, we converge at the meeting table set in the center of the cabin for just this purpose. I pour the men whiskey and we toast our success.

There is laughter and stories and talk of plans for the next few days.

I open a small sack of cut gems of various types and hues and pour them into my hand. ‘Tis a dazzling array. I pour them back into the sack and hand it to you along with another.

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With a smile and a nod, you then turn and hand off the small bags, one to Alafdahl and a second to Captain Mouton in both gratitude and payment for services well beyond the bounds of friendship. Indeed, both of these leaders of men put their lives and those under their command at risk to aid us in our need.

We drink wine and talk well past the dinner bell, a dinner served by McCord and prepared by the most excellent Chef Razzan of the now derelict Lysandra. Thankfully, he has joined the crew as I had hoped.

Late into the night, well fed and in the glow of an evening of friendship, Mouton disembarks to his own ship and Alafdahl retires to a cabin provided for him on board the Constantine.

They have agreed to accompany us to Alexandria, ensuring our safe arrival.

Hamad’s kin are still at large and bear no love for any of us. They will not soon forget the defeat and death of their lord and master.
 
Sheikh Alafdahl and Captain Regge Mouton join us in your cabin as planned. They are well pleased with the portion of Hamad’s jewels we have apportioned for them as payment for their services and help.

They are both more than gracious to me, complementing me often and giving me appreciative sidelong glances.

Both men are gentlemen and by the time they depart, bowing and kissing my hand, we have made firm plans for them to accompany us to Alexandria. They will assist us, even battle with us if necessary should Hamad’s kin attack again, or other unforeseen circumstances arise between now and the open ocean.

I am particularly charmed by the tall Cajun American Captain. His languid easy drawl is captivating, and his sly smile and mischievous eyes make him likeable indeed.

Sometime during the evening, it occurs to me that as the Captain of a sailing ship, like you, he would have certain privileges. I determine to speak to him as soon as I can about an idea I have.

Our first night together in your Captain’s quarters seems particularly special to me. Your cabin is not opulently appointed like the Lysandra, but it is imbued with your sensibility, your bedding is full of your scent, even though you have not slept in it in weeks.

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Our lovemaking is heady. You possess me with a new ferocity, and in turn my eagerness for you, my need for you seems insatiable.

The knowledge I will never be again be ‘owned’ by Hamad, removes a certain fear and cloud from my mind and we join together again and again through the night and into the early morning hours.
 
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