Black Leopard (closed for Leongreybeard and Artimodorus)

She watched him for a moment, seeing him strip his shirt she felt her heart jump in her chest. Turning she knew she needed to get a hold of herself. Donning the plain dress from the day before she found her hands steadier and knew what she must do. Upon hearing Jason she stepped out, nodding to Atticus' orders her eyes on her supplies. She would need to work quickly, two days labor would need to be done in one.

Rolling up her sleeves she took hold of the basin, placing it in the center of the room. Hair tied back tight against her neck she began to separate everything into piles before continuing. Her fingers working expertly over the iris root.

One hour later she stood, looking at the work before her. It was less daunting now, and she knew she would be able to finish in prompt time. The sail had been portioned into equal pieces allowing for three shirt and pants. She was a small woman, in stature at least and she did not fear running out of fabric. Taking a deep breath she allowed the Iris root to seep in the water as her fingers moved to the bit of thread she had. Slow and meticulous she began to measure herself. An arm here, waist there, each time marking it with a spare piece of charcoal on the fabric. By the time she finished measuring herself she had complete patterns drawn on the sail. Testing the salted water she nodded. It didn't take long for her to cut out the patterns and soon she was dipping the fabric into the dye. Once done she took a seat on her cot. Rubbing her hands together she looked down at them. They were already turning brown from the iris root. Now, all she needed to do was wait.

Her mind began to wander to Atticus, and the way his body pressed against her. She took a deep breath. Rubbing her arms she leaned back against the hull of the ship. What had gotten into her? Just a few days ago she was on her way to meet her fiance. She spend the rest of her life on a sugar cane farm raising children and growing old. In her minds eyes she saw they look of Atticus as he showed the ship to her, the feeling of the wind in her hair and the smell of the ocean. Her eyes closed and she smiled to herself. The cove they had stopped at was much better than any farm. Swallow she let her mind process slowly. Would she want this life? Did she want this life? She had killed a man. Shaking her head she crossed her arms. No, she had saved Atticus and herself. He would teach her how to work on the ship, how to spot what was dangerous at night and for the first time in her life she felt in control. Her life in England had been one courting party after the other. Proper classes to ensure she was a lady at all times but on this ship she was Thom. Someone who would pull her own weight.

A knock on the door brought her from her thoughts, causing her to realize she had been contemplating longer than she had intended. The sun was hanging low in the sky, casting amber shadows along the cabin. Standing she moved to the door.

"Who is it?" She called.

"Atticus."

Once inside, "I'd like you to accompany me while I talk to some of the crew. Watch their eyes. They will all be uncomfortable with you at my side. But I want to see if you think any one of them is more uncomfortable than the others. I told you I think there could be a traitor on board. If there is, it will be one of these men. Just listen and watch, after you can tell me what you think."

They walked together out onto the main deck. Six men were assembled there. All looked rough and unkempt, and all had their eyes down.

"Men, this is Thom, the new cabin boy. She will have a 1/20th share in our venture, and it comes from my part. None of you will lose anything. Jason told you about her. You all know what I expect."

"You men all went ashore at the Dragon Lagoon. I want to reward you for your bravery, and each will get an additional 2 percent share. But I want to know if anything unusual happened when you were ashore. Any farmer seem nervous? Well, (chuckling) more nervous than usual?"

He unsheathed his sword and touched the first man under the chin with the tip. "Jim?" The man looked straight into Atticus' eyes and said "There wernt nothing sir." Down the line each repeated, "Nothing." Carlos, second from the end seemed surly, and answered in Spanish, "Nada."

"Dismissed."

The men, obviously relieved, scampered away quickly.

Very quietly to her as they walked forward watching the sun set, "Take no notice of Carlos, that is absolutely normal for him. I'm certain of his loyalty. But he would have said if it was a farmer. He hates all English, me included."

"Now Pierre, the little guy with the dark eyes, I'm not so sure about. Did you notice he was perspiring? Mayhap he caught a bug. Mayhap he is the traitor. Time will tell."

Atticus was silent for a while, staring off into the distance as the sun set and the stars began to shine. One could feel the power of the ship as it pushed through the waves.

"Ah, there it is! See that star up above the bright one there?" He bent down to her eye level and raised her arm to point a the one he meant. "That one."

"Tell me what you see. Tell me everything you can see about it."

She said, "There are two stars there, very close to each other"

"Ha!"

"Perfect."

"You have excellent vision Thom." He hugged her from the side, then caught himself and quickly released her, mumbling "Sorry"

"Did you have any thoughts about those men?"

But the die was cast. That brief moment shot a bolt of electricity through his body. Any doubts he had vanished. Tonight, when they were alone, he would make his proposal to her.

She listened intently, her eyes looking him over before she glanced to her basin. "Yes sir, one moment." She moved quickly, ringing the cloth that had now been dyed a dark brown. Once the excess water was removed she hung them around her cot to dry. Taking his arm she allowed him to lead her, her yes wondering to the men before them. Removing her arm from his she stood tall.


Giving them each a small nod she remained silent. He began down the line, drawing his sword and for a moment her eyes took notice of the muscles playing at his arm and the line of his jaw as he spoke to the men. Swallowing she forced her attention to the men he was questioning. All seemed sure of their answers except for one.

All men were dismissed from their sight and as he began to walk again she listened. "Pierre. That was his name?" Head shaking she stopped beside him her fingers touching the cool wood of the railing. "He seemed, nervous as if he was terrified to answer. Fearful to stand before you. He did not look as though a man with a fever."

He pointed to a star and for a moment she tried to focus until his had took her arm guiding her eyes to the correct star. He asked about it but there wasn't just one stars as he was pointing out and she told him such.

"There are two stars there, very close to each other"

His arm encircled her side, pulling her tight against his his body but then he recoiled. It was to late. Her breathing had quickened and her mind was a mass of fog. Swallowing she looked down at the water below letting the boat's movement bring her back. The soft night wind rustled red curls around her cheeks.

"'Tis beautiful out here. Calm, comforting." She glanced to him. "The waves make you forget yourself and enjoy the silence." Chuckling she shook her head. "Listen to me, sounding as if I've gone daft." Gathering up her dress she began her journey back towards the cabin. She would need to ensure the clothes were drying properly.

Atticus followed her back to the cabin. His mind was relaxed. Once a decision was made he never second guessed himself. When they returned to the cabin, he barred the door for the night. He admired the new clothes she had fashioned. They were perfect, and amazingly well made. He made a mental note to make a trip with her to the provisioners in the next port that she might acquire more fabrics and supplies. Tomorrow he would start lessons on swordplay and reloading pistols quickly. In his mind he imagined fighting with her at his side, a beast with no back, each defending the other. But tonight it would be the beast with two backs.

When it was time to turn in, he walked to her, and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, turned her away from him, and unfastened her dress. Pushing her red curls aside he softly kissed the back of her neck.

He whispered, "At first there will be a little pain, then, much pleasure."

Her dress off, he turned her by the chin, and gently kissed her full on the lips. This was the moment to know if she would accept his love.

Once back to the cabin she checked the clothing, ensuring it was dry before pulling them down from the hangings. Holding them up to herself she nodded. They looked as if they would fit correctly. She would try them on in the morning to ensure she needn't make any alterations.

The time for sleep drew nearer and to her surprise he came to her, turning her gently to remove her dress as he had done the night before but something was different. He carefully brushed away her curls to plant a soft kiss at the base of her neck. The result was small goosebumps that rose along her cream colored skin hidden only by her freckles. Her heart was pounding at a rates he was sure he could hear. His breath brushed her skin as he spoke and although his intention was clear her mind, slowly fogging with desire and confusion did not understand outright. It was only when he turned her, ever so gently by the chin and saw the lust in his eyes that she knew without a doubt what he intended.

The kiss was filled with a gentle need that she had not felt before and for a moment she was hesitant to return the gentleness. Her dreams flashed and the feels of his arms around her the night before urged her on. A small step forward, her fingers running up his hard chest she find the buttons on his shirt. It all seemed to natural as he kissed him back and then, his arms were around her. Strong limbs holding her tightly as her fingers worked faster. She wanted to feel his skin against her fingertips. A moments pause and her fingers were against his bare chest, digits tracing muscle and tangling lightly in chest hair.

He undressed her even as she was undressing him, and after a few moments of clasping their naked bodies together, he extinguished the oil lamp and led her to the bed. The urgency was overwhelming. They coupled. The intensity was like an explosion, as if a giant wave had suddenly and unexpectedly swept over them, submerged them and left them breathless. After, he could remember nothing but being totally engulfed by the sensations.

Only then he did explore her body. He kissed her everywhere. His tongue tasted her mouth, then toyed endlessly with her nipples. Teasing them, while his fingers memorized the curves of her breasts, the silky down on her thighs, the soft damp curls on her mound. Splayed hands combed her tresses, draped them on his chest. He kissed her throat, her stomach, each finger.

As the warm glow subsided, he felt renewed vigor. The second time was the opposite of the first. He slid back inside her excruciatingly slowly. With the tip he traversed her folds while his hands danced on her body. No new sensation was too trivial to be ignored. Each delight savoured. Time and time again they approached a shared climax, then backed away to try a different route, a longer path. Finally their bodies could be denied no longer, and despite resisting, once more they were engulfed. After, he stayed inside her and moved so none of his weight was on her chest, her head was nestled near his chest, and his arms wrapped protectively. Immersed in her, he drifted into sleep.

She had never experienced such an overwhelming feel of intoxication, of lust, of joy of so many unnameable feelings. She fear she would down in them. He was not as she had dreamed, a dream could not begin to scrap the rough service that was Atticus. She found herself writhing beneath him, fingers playing over his back and strong thighs holding him captive within her. Fingers tangled in curls, teeth grazing skin and soon white hot need smoldering in her lower belly begging for release.

She was breathless as he began to explore her body, eyes hooded with the afterglow of such an event. She had expected pain,expected to be nervous or worried about her appearance but in light of it all she realized such trivial things had not once graced her mind. As he explored she took the time to watch, to open herself to him as he fingers lingered on his skin. Nails running along his shoulders, playing in his hair. His warm lips against her throat made her purr in delight while his beard brought bubbles of laughter as it brushed her stomach and the pads of each finger.

The second time revealed to her there was more than one way to reach such an intense need. Her lips found the flesh of his neck, his shoulders, any bit of him she could get her mouth on. The salt of his sweat mingled their kiss and soon they were dancing again. Their bodies working together, writhing with need as one body. With each wave of pleasure ricocheted off of the other she found herself panting beneath him, breathless whispered of his name on her lips.

He moved, careful to stay rooted inside her. Her body pressed into his, her head coming to fall against his chest. Fingers splaying across his warm skin, toying with the curls of hair there while she let the comfortable silence fall around them. His even breathing denoted he had fallen asleep. Laying there in the darkness she let her mind lull. Unlike the night before her actions the previous day were not on her mind. She wondered absently if that had been his intention but she was to tired, her need to sated to delve deeper into the thought. Giving into her bodies need to sleep she drifted willingly into darkness Atticus' arms protecting her from any nightmares that might rock her mind in the night for she knew he would be there to bring her back from her fears.

Atticus awoke to a soft scraping sound. Quietly he slipped out of her, heard a quiet murmur. Carefully placing each foot and slowly shifting weight on it he made his way to the cabin door. In the moonlight he could see a thin silver blade slipped though the space between the door and the frame, under the bar. And the blade was attempting to lift the bar. Belaying pin in his right hand and stilletto in his left hand he noiselessly approached the door. The silver sparkled as the blade pressed up on the bar. Swiftly he swung the pin and broke the blade.

"Merde" He heard steps scampering away. But was it one man or two?

He had hoped the inspection would scare off the plotter. Or was it two of them? And why now? Surely no one would hope to be able to lead his men to give Thomasina and Atticus up to Sir Roger. They were at least a day's sail from Jamaica, probably more. All upwind to Hispaniola. Sir Roger must have put a huge price on his head to warrant such risk. Atticus' immediate reaction was to mount a challenge, humiliate Sir Roger on his own ground. Teach him to leave well enough alone. But that would only re-double the English efforts to catch him.

She murmured in her sleep, apparently dreaming. The scent of her body was intoxicating. With effort he resisted his urge to wake her and enjoy another coupling. He was still awake when daylight brought a tap tap tap at the cabin door, and someone set tea and biscuits down. Smiling, he kissed her awake. Waited until she realized where she was, and said, "Breakfast is here milady."

Unaware of the commotion the night before she awoke to soft kisses and a gentle murmur against her ear. With a smile she leaned into him, her eyes fluttering open. "Good morning." She whispered glancing up into his warm face. Leaning up she pressed a kiss to his throat and then to his lips. "Such a grievous thing to get out of bed." It was a playful groan as she sat up slowly. The cool air of the room flushing her skin as the sheet and his warmth left her.

With a yawn and a stretch she slid from bed, taking hold of her robe to wrap around her naked body. Scattered around the room leading to the small cot was the journey of the night before. Shoes here and there, clothing draped in piles on the floor. Chuckling to herself she bent down to straighten up to allow him to gather breakfast.

When he had placed the tray down she moved to him slowly, her robe tied loosely around her frame. "What be your plan today?" Although the moment of romance was gone from last night, she still found herself at ease and connected to him even if it was just in her mind.

"Today we begin your lessons. Swordplay, climbing the rigging to the crow's next, navigation. And my lessons too. Reading and writing."

He soaked a chunk of hard tack in the tea, and began to eat. His eyes devoured her beauty, the red curls, ivory skin, bright eyes. Though she was clothed in her night shift, he now knew exactly what was underneath. And the images were vibrant in his mind. With her, arousal was a natural consequence of being close to her.

He sighed.

"But we are not safe. Someone tried to slip the bar from the door last night. I broke the blade from his knife. This puzzles me, it makes no sense to try to kill us last night. Or to kill me. I am certain of the loyalty of most of the crew. And without me, Jason is the logical choice to win the election for Captain."

Atticus chuckled.

"You did not expect that. Crew elect a captain, they know they need a good leader or they will perish. Most have quite limited skills. They could not find . . "

He paused realizing he had to modify some of his sayings in deference to her.

"You know I suspect Pierre, but he is a weak little thing. He could never lead the men. Something else is afoot, but I know not what. Watch, look, listen, try to sense what it is."

Then his face lightened.

"These dyes you used. I saw you were careful with them. Do they stain skin? Perhaps we can set a trap tonight."

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Twas a lucky day for me you chose to hide on my ship."

She was excited to start her lessons but as he told her about someone trying to come in during the night she took pause. Her mind was working now, her eyes watching him curiously. If someone had tried to get in, what was it that they wanted? Did they want to harm Atticus, or was it herself they were after. He chuckled, explaining about how the crew would elect a captain.

"They do stain the skin but Atticus." She turned to looked up at him as he moved to kiss her forehead. She smiled feeling his lips against her skin.

"If you broke their sword, is there extra's on the ship? Or does everyone have their own?" She watched him curiously. Maybe we can take a round, checking swords. Someone had to have noticed someone out of bed who wasn't supposed to be. "

A small smile touched her lips. "I can have Jason bring me some more of the dyes, it just needs a little water and it will stay tacky until it is placed on a bit of cloth. "

Having finished her breakfast she stood moving to pull on the clothes he had made the day before. Sliding out of her robe she glanced at him over her shoulder. With a smile she pulled on the clothes, tugging them into place before turning to him. She looked rather masculine apart from her long, curling hair and chest. The clothes managed to hide most of her figure well.

"Many of them have two swords and perhaps an old one stashed somewhere on the ship. The broken part of the blade had tar and the back was rough. It was probably something used to cut rope."

Chin in hand he pensively watched her dressing, "Someone taught you well."

After walking around her, "All you need is a sword and pistol in your belt. Very dashing indeed."

He placed his hand on her buttock smiling. "But I know now what delights are under there." Leaning down and moving her hair aside, a kiss on the back of her neck.

Rummaging in his chest, Atticus produced a small worn sword, scabbard much nicked and black leather belt, also nicked and scratched. ""This will do 'till you force some Spaniard or Englishman to give you his. Holding the wood sword he had asked for, "Take it, come at me!. NO! Like you mean it! Never be tentative. NEVER!"

She lunged and he stepped aside, one foot touched the side of her knee, and she fell to the deck, sword skittering away.

He extended his hand to her, chuckling. "Feet wide spaced, one ahead of the other. Tiny steps when you lunge. Never cross back foot in front unless your opponent is running away and you want to chase him. Balance. Firm footing. Every time we are in a storm, practise standing with your eyes closed."

He took a short board from under the bed, placed it on a belaying pin, and stood, keeping both ends of the board clear of the deck. Eyes close. "Practise that every day, until it it easy. Tomorrow we start parries."

"Ready to climb the mast?"

Her lips twitched up into a smile as his hands grasped her firm behind. Leaning back into him she enjoyed the warm kiss at her neck. "You shall be the only one on this ship that knows of such delights." It was a whisper as she turned, leaning up to kiss him as she took the sword and belt.

It took a little effort to get the belt tight enough around her slim hips before she took the sword. She stared at it for a moment, letting the feel of it in her hand become familiar. She had seen her father and his friends fencing before, had enjoyed watching the quick precise movements but as she lunged towards him, sword outstretched she soon found herself on the floor, shoulder banging on the hard deck. It was harder than it looked.

He offered his hand, pulling her to her feet as he showed her correct form. By the time he had pulled out the board from under the bed her head was spinning. It took her a moment to catalog his instructions before moving onto the pin an board h was standing on. She wasn't sure if she would ever have enough balance for such a thing.

"The mast?" She asked placing her sword back in her belt. "What could be so hard about climbing rope netting?" She asked innocently. She had seen men climbing them the last time he had taken her above deck. It couldn't be to hard? Could it? She would soon learn that the small flats she owned would do little to aide her.

"Come." Atticus lead her out onto the deck. He turned and plucked a hair from her head and worked it in a crack above the door, letting it hang down so if anyone entered the cabin it would be trapped between the door and the frame. He tried it by opening the door and closing it. Satisfied, he positioned it outside, then walked away, seemingly studying the ocean. In fact he was looking to see if he had been observed. Apparently not.

They walked to the base of the main mast. He called up to the lookout, "Queeb! Come down, I need a word." The man scrambled like a monkey and was on the deck in moments. "Show Thom here how to climb to the crow's nest. Then leave her and come with me. Thom? You are on watch until Queeb returns. You see anything, ship whale or waterspout, call it, loudly. All our lives could depend on it."

He watched as she climbed remembering how terrified he was the first time he did it. When Queeb returned, he said, "Walk with me."

"I need a new latch handle for my cabin door. For reasons you need not know, no other crew is to see you making it, or fitting it."

"Jason assemble the men."

He told them Thom would take regular lookout watches. Then, "Remember, no man touches her lest he lose the part he touched her with." The little frenchman's eyes were down at the deck, during the entire time.

She was in the process of following when he pulled a stray hair from her head. With a wince she rubbed the spot where it had met her skin. He moved quickly, securing the piece of hair. She watched with curious intent but asked not any questions. Following him up she stared up at the man named Queeb. He was a quick man, having climbed down in record time.

As he spoke she listened intently, watching as he climbed once more to give her direction and instruction before leaving her to it. With a swallow and a glance over her shoulder she took hold of the rough and weathered rope. One last glance up the rigging before placing one foot on the material. Making her way up was slow, and not nearly as graceful as Queeb made it out to be. Half way up her foot slipped, sending her face first into the harsh rope. With a wince she felt the sea soaked rigging rub her neck raw and itch at her face.

Hands holding tight she glanced down at the few men standing to watch her. Her stomach twisted. She had never been fearful of height, but she also had never been so high in her life. Another deep breath and she was moving again. She had to do this, this would be her job and she refused to be some useless life on this ship. She could see the nest, it was within reach now. She was almost there she had done it! Reaching up for the next knot she spoke to soon. Her second foot slipped, this time tangling in the ropes. Glancing down to her entangled foot she held onto the knots tighter, not wanting to fall. A few wiggles and a grunt later she was free but not without loss. The small flat, barely heavy enough to make sound against the wood deck fell from her foot, leaving it bare. Shaking her head she placed her foot firmly on the rope and began again, arms trembling from the work of pulling herself upwards.

Hands closed around the wood frame of the nest as she hoisted herself up and into the small basket. Once her feet were on solid ground she gave herself a little yip of pride before her eyes fell on the sight before her. She stepped forward, her hands touching the frame around the nest. Her chest filled with wonder at the open ocean before her. Absently she wandered why anyone would ever leave the nest. The wind whipped her hair but she barely noticed. She stood, turning every once and a while to ensure nothing was out of place. Her eyes, unblinking, took in the scene before her and she knew for the first time in her life she was home. She was exactly where she was meant to be in this grand world.

It felt like seconds had passed when a voiced called up to her. It was Queeb, he would be coming up to take her place now. How long had it been? That she did not know but reluctantly she began the journey down. Before hand though she took off the second flat, stuffing it in the back of her trousers. Barefoot and reluctant she took her time, ensuring her feet firm before continuing to the next knot. The journey was less eventful and much easier this time round. Once to the bottom she stood, staring up at Atticus, barefoot and hair windblown but a grin upon her face.

"When may I take my next shift in the nest Cap'n?"

"You can give Queeb a break a few times during the day." Atticus laughed, "You know he was testing you. Don't worry, you passed with flying colours. He uses that rope with knots to keep in shape. Most of the men on the ship probably couldn't get all the way up with it They use the shrouds to get into the rigging, those lines from the rail up to the mast. You can see they have ropes tied across to use as ladder rungs. In heavy seas that rope he used would be dangerous. But you got his respect, and probably whichever of the men were watching. There's much to learn about what you can see, and what it might be. He will help you for sure."

They walked about the ship, ending up by the helm. Atticus showed her how the man was steering the ship, letting her dance with the waves and making minor adjustments as the wind made small shifts.

"Captain! Ship Ahoy. Starboard. Twenty miles off. Running same as us. Looks English but she is too far away to make out colours. If she's a merchant she is empty, but I think warship. About our size."

"Jason. Steady as she goes, show no colours to her. Keep our course. We should see Hispaniola to our north soon." Atticus did not look overly concerned.

Then to Thom, "Have you given any thought to teaching me to read and write? I hoped we might spend an hour or so each day." As they reached his cabin he looked at the hair and found it undisturbed. So he ignored it and entered, trapping it within the space between the door and the frame.

"Testing me?" She asked quietly. She looked up at the rigging again with a smile. She was filled with pride from his words but tried not to get to excited. She still had much to learn about the ship. She walked along with him her eyes scanning the ship and taking notes on what everyone was doing. Once at the helm she smiled, watching the man steer. As she watched she widened her stance enough to feel the way she moved as he turned.

It was Queeb's voice that rang out among the wind. Glancing up at the nest she listened in silence. Her eyes glancing around to where he directed towards the ship. Stepping closer to the railing she watched the ship for a moment. Could it be Roger's? Was he sending for her? She shook her head. She was not the woman he had left in England. Even if he did come for her now, change of heart or not, she would not return. He had been given his chance.

Atticus at her arm spoke, bringing her back from her thoughts. Turning she gave him a tender smile. "I'ave." She began to walk with him once more. Once within their cabin she moved to her trunk. Digging for a moment she produced a small bound book. Moving to his desk she urged him to follow. Taking a seat beside his chair she pulled out his parchment and quill. She would start slow, working her way up to the poetry in her bound book.

"We shall start with the alphabet and how the letters work together." She wrote elegantly on the parchment, the letters of the alphabet. "Each has it's own sounds that it adds to every word. We start here and soon you will be writing novels." She was patient with him as he worked through item, never raising her voice or becoming urgent. She was happy to repeat what he didn't understand and encouraged his progress.

Glancing to the window she touched his arm. "I believe this is where we will stop tonight. The sun is sinking." She said with a nod. "You've done well."

Atticus stood up, took her into his arms and held her close to his body, full length. Quietly, no words, they pressed together until the inevitable arousal started to appear. He kissed the top of her head, then her neck. And released her. With a pat on her bottom, "Tis time we supped."

They lined up with the rest of the men, filled their bowls and retired to their cabin. They spoke of nothing and everything, but nothing of import, Hanging in the air was still the question of the traitor(s). Yet they said nothing of it.

After, they took cups of grog to the deck, still quiet. But as they turned to look aft, Atticus suddenly cupped his hand over her mouth. When she looked, questiioning, he showed her the universal shhhh sign, and point out onto the water. On the horizon, a light flashed, intermittently. almost invisible. Where he was pointing on the water, a glow appeared from time to time. As if answering the light on the horizon. Light on the horizon. Then two from his ship. The pattern repeated.

Atticus drew her sword, put in her hand and motioned her to stand ready at the steps from the the quarter deck, port side. He stood in the darkness beside the starboard side steps. They could hear shuffling, then a man appeared coming down the starboard steps. Atticus grabbed him covering his mouth and put his stiletto the man's throat. A lamp with candle clattered to the deck, Candle extinguished but still smoking a little. Still silent Atticus motioned her to stand behind the man and put her sword across his neck.

Whispering, "Pierre, I will uncover your mouth and you will be silent. Nod once for yes, sideways for no. Were you signalling Sir Roger's ship?"

Nothing, Pierre stood stock still.

Atticus put his stiletto through the man's breeches and touched his sac, pricking it, Pierre's eyes widened.

"I will slit them one at a time. So the sharks will bite there first. You know you are going for a swim. Don't you think your chances are better if you arn't bleeding?"

Pierre nodded.

"Were you signalling Sir Roger's ship?"

Nod.

Atticus thought, then, "How many flashes to tell them you had killed me?"

Nothing.

Jab!

Eyes wide, Pierre held up one finger.

"And two flashes if I am still alive?"

Nod.

At that Atticus pulled his stiletto from the man's crotch and threw him overboard. The scream brought Jason at a run.

"Jason, I caught the traitor. Pierre. He is going for a swim. Leave him be."

Returning to their cabin he gathered two rough wool blankets, his pistols, and still showing her to be silent, left the cabin, setting the tell tale hair in place. They went to the mizzen mast and Atticus pointed up to the aft crow's nest. He whispered "We sleep there tonight." They climbed the shrouds and soon were cuddled together. One hand cupped her breast. The other moved her hand to his now unbuttoned breeches. Then gently on the back of her head, "Suckle him, he likes that."

Th night was cool as they took their spot above deck to enjoy the night air. She was watching the stars when his hand came to cover her mouth. Surprised she glanced to him before glancing out to the water. Brow creasing the took a step forward to stare at the light. Why was there a light blinking in the water? And why on earth was the light returned from the ship. Swallowing she was in the midst of placing her grog down when his fingers pulled her sword free. Taking hold she turned, waiting in the darkness for what she now knew would be the traitor.

Pierre soon joined them on the deck and, taking her spot behind him she placed her sword against his throat, her eyes on Atticus. The man was a traitor, speaking with Sir Roger's ship, which meant he was the one to allow others on board to kill them. She listened in silence, her stomach twisting as he continued to give them information. Once he had given them what Atticus wanted he was thrown overboard. Biting her lip she remembered when she had once believed he would do that to her upon first finding her hidden in his row boat. She thanked the stars and the moon that he had given her mercy.

Following him, she did not speak. Soon they were climbing the rigging. She was once again barefoot and as she made her way up she glanced to him from time to time. What was he thinking? Did he have a plan or were they just avoiding what might be another ambush? Once in the nest he pulled her close to his body. The air was much cooler up here, she was glad to have his body heat beside her. is hand brushed her breast, his other moving her hand to the need he had for her. With a small smile she let her fingers run along the smooth skin as he urged her mouth upon it. The soft curls that lay at his base tickled her nose as she took him into her warm mouth. Shifting in the small nest she let her fingers draw along his warm sac. Her tongue, although unsure of the correct motion, swirled and dipped along his head. She could smell the ocean on his skin, and the spice she still could not place but had grown to associate with him. As she took him deeper into her mouth she let the hand not massaging his sac run along his low abdomen, enjoying the dip of muscle she found there. She took her time with him, allowing him to buck and grind into her mouth. She was beginning to get the hang of the lewd act and soon she felt his strong fingers tangling in her curls to urge him deeper into her waiting throat.

His hand on the back of her head, he worked deeper and deeper, pausing as she learned to breathe with his member into her throat. He guided her to stroke full and slow, then bob, then full and slow until he could not longer hold back. His entire spine tingled as the deep set spasms pumped, his abs twitching. With difficulty he suppressed his voice, so none below would look up. Finally he subsided, pulled her to him and kissed her, savoring.

They slept, somewhat, but woke as soon as the east horizon started to show light. He guided her to creep down the shrouds, and back at their cabin, saw the hair still on the outside of the door. He smiled, and relaxed.

"We are safe now, Pierre was the only one, or at least the only one brave enough to try and kill me."

At sea that day he prepared the men for battle. Prepared small trebuchets to heave burning pitch port side, same with the canon port side. Ropes with grappling irons were made ready. After inspections he assembled the men.

"Tomorrow, just before dawn, Sir Roger's ship standing off there - he pointed to sea - will attack us, expecting to find us asleep and unprepared. We shall be more than ready. If any of his men ask for quarter, give it. When we have won, we will set them free to take a message to Sir Roger. Oh, yes, I almost forgot. If you happen to find their cook, kidnap him. And any man you see with small boots, take them. Jason put minimum on watch during the day. If you can sleep, to day, sleep so you are alert to fight tomorrow."

He walked with her back to his cabin, satisfied he had done what he could. "Do not worry Thom, you will be in that aft crow's nest. You are not ready yet to fight, but you will have sword and pistols in case anyone tries to climb up to you. Come now, I have a small debt to repay."

Once in the cabin he barred the door, and took her to the bed where he undid, and pulled down her breeches. "Relax, enjoy."

Atticus lowered his head between her thighs, and exhaled warm moist air on the soft curls. The musky scent had him hard in an instant, but he had resolved to use only his tongue.

He tasted of a bitter salt mixed with a sweet hint of honey. With a smile she knew it would take time for her to get familiar with such a taste. He pulled her up, kissing her with a slowness that made her smile. Leaning into his hold she allowed him rest as she enjoyed the ocean breeze brushing across her exposed skin. Soon, sleep overtook her sending her into a silent rest pressed into his hold.

They stirred early the next morning, carefully making their way down the rigging. Time was taken to ready the men, sending them with instruction and preparations they returned to the cabin. After barring the door she watched him. "A debt?" She asked, curiosity peaking she let out a laugh as he pulled her to the bed, pushing her breeches down before laying her against the cool sheets.

Her stomach tightened as his breath brushed her already moist center. With a swallow to steady herself she ran her fingers along his shoulders before tangling in his hair. He began to press into her, tongue urging her need and sating her desire. His fingers were rough against her smooth skin, causing her to purr with delight. The sensations he was opening her to had her mind spinning. Short pants rocked her body as her fingers tightened in his coarse hair urging him on.

Atticus slid his thumb into her entrance, his index finger alongside her anus. The tongue twirled and swirled her clit. then stopped, waited, then started again, and again and again. His erection raged, ached to plunge deep inside her. But not now, that need would steel him later in the battle. This thumb stroked inside her, his finger teased but never entered. With his other hand he kneaded her breasts, tweaked and tugged her nipples.Her hips bucked under him. Her thighs quivered and shook. He could keep her on the edge no longer.

The edge was approaching and she knew no amount of strength or resolve would keep her from taking that plunge. His name was a cry on her lips, her stomach tightening and her hips pressing up to meet his touch. Pleasure ricocheted within her, pressing her deeper into the void of no return. She collapsed, panting quietly against the bed. Glancing down to him she smiled, urging him up to press a deep kiss against his lips.

It took her a few moments to regain herself, her legs till holding a small tremble as she sat up to prepare for the coming battle. Her green orbs glanced to him, running fingers along his chest as he watched her. Buttoning up her breeches she straightened her clothes before placing her pistol in the back of her waistband and her sword at her hip.

The sun was beginning to set and although she knew the crew and her captain were prepared, anxiousness ate at her core. She stood, smoothing her clothes before turning to stare down at him.

"Atticus..." She wanted to say something, words of wisdom or encouragement but nothing struck her correctly. Taking a deep breath she glanced back to the window, her mind beginning to turn through her worries.

"Keep your wits about you tonight. A fallen captain can no lead his ship." Her gaze found his once more before she gave a soft nod. "I'll see you in the morning." She leaned down to him, kissing him tenderly as her fingers clung to the cloth of his shirt. He had given her a second chance at life, had already taught her so many ways of the world in the few days they had been together. Her fears flared but she quickly stifled them. He would be fine.

She glanced at the cabin once more before taking her leave. "And Atticus...Don't think your concern for my needing boots was lost on me." She gave him one last crooked grin before disappearing out the door. She made quick work of the rigging, each climb becoming easier. Pulling herself up into the nest she got comfortable, ensuring she could see over the side but not be seen by those below. Her eyes watched the horizon, waiting for the attack to begin. She had placed her sword beside her to make it easier to handle in such a small space. She only hoped morning came quickly and without much loss.

"Queeb, up the mizzen and watch with Thom. Say nothing when you see their ship, just toss something in the water, opposite side. When the battle is underway, then she can shout warnings, you come join the fight."

Queeb nodded, then scampered up the rope to the aft crow's nest. Atticus sent another man up the main mast with similar instructions about tossing something. Then joining the fight.

Going from gun to gun on the starboard side he made certain each was ready, each knew to be silent until the splash, then get the fuse ready, still silent until the order came to 'fire when ready'. Then, and only then, drop the canon port cover and fire until the order came to cease fire. The chief gunner accompanied him, listened intently.

At the stern, Atticus sat and waited for the light from the other ship. After the moon set, there it was, a single long flash. He unshuttered his lamp to reply. One long flash, to signal Sir Roger's men that he was dead. It was time for them to attack. The sequence repeated. 'Cautious coward' he thought. Afraid to attack while Atticus was alive.

Before they could see her, the wind brought the sound of the water on her hull as she slipped downwind toward them. Louder and louder. Then one, two splashes port side. The shaped of the warship formed in the darkness, she was close, and now broadside. Atticus whispered 'Fire when ready.'

He could just barely hear the order repeated below and scampering of feet as the order was passed down the line of canon.

The first canon roared. The flame lit up both ships, the men on Sir Roger's wide eyed, startled. Staccato cracks as the canon fired again and again up and down the length of his hull. There were only ten, but they wreaked havoc at such close range, as yet unanswered. His trebuchets fired buckets of flaming pitch across the short distance, setting fires all across the deck of the other ship. Sir Roger's canon stuttered, the men were too busy trying to stop the fires from spreading to their power kegs. BOOM! One keg aft blew. Splinters of wood flew as the more powerful guns of the larger ship finally started to fire. Atticus was certain then, that their canon were not ready, not thought needed to ambush a few men on watch at night.

Atticus' canon continued to rip into the hull opposite. Several explosions sounded as the fires found powder kegs.

"Withdraw!!"

The command from Sir Roger rang clear.

From above her heard her voice. "Atticus, behind you." He whirled to see, Pierre? Lunging with a sword. Atticus quickly stepped aside, drew his sword and disarmed the man.

Sword to his throat, the man spat. He was Pierre's brother. One hand holding the sword, the other his stiletto, Atticus cut off the man's boots. Then to Jason, "Toss him off the port rail."

The big warship trundled downwind.

"Shall we chase her?" Jason asked.

"No, she is quicker than us, even with her damage. Let her go. Make sail as close to the wind as we can. Keep her from remounting her attack. With all her guns and men she can take us. But as long as she is downwind of us we can stay out of range of her guns. Make for the coast of Hispaniola, we need time to repair the damage."

"Thom," he yelled up, "I have a pair of boots for you."

Everything was quiet by the time Queeb joined her in the nest. She did not make conversation with him while they waited, instead her eyes scanned the water. From the nest she could see the soft glint of the lantern from Roger's boats. Taking a deep breath she got ready. The attack would begin any moment.

Queeb soon dropped a rock off the side of the boat before scurrying down for the fight. Swallowing she stood, hands clasping tightly to the edge of the nest as the first cannon fire shook the boat with a loud bang. Jaw clenching she watched, her eyes on the boat growing near. She had to look out for anything unusual. She wouldn't allow any surprises to go unnoticed.

The pitch lit the sky as flames licked at the affronting hull. It seamed as if everything was going at half speed. Large cracked resounded into the night as keg after keg of gun powder found flame. From her vantage point she could see Roger's men scurrying to put out the fires, all thoughts of battle lost to their instincts to save themselves. Before she knew it the command rang through the air.

"Withdraw!!"

She let out a whoop of excitement. They had won, and by the looks of it without casualties on their side. She turned, thinking to make her way down the rigging when Atticus caught her eyes. It was Pierre, as if back from the dead. Her voice was an urgant plea.

"Atticus, Behind you!"

He surely heard her for he turned, stepping aside as the man lunged to meet him. Her stomach twisted as she watched. Atticus quickly subdued the man before bending over him to do something. She glanced around again, checking for any others that had managed to board before making her was own the rigging. From the deck she heard Atticus' voice.

"Thom,I have a pair of boots for you."

With a chuckle she placed bare feet on the deck her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "Thank you captain." She glanced to everyone curiously. "Will they return? We tore their hull pretty badly, and those keg explosions were sure to kill a few men. Do you think they will be able to repair and regroup to mount another attack?"

Her body was filled with an energy she was not expecting. It had been her first 'battle' and it had left her wide awake. She wondered what happened after such events. They would need to repair any damage, that was a given but did the crew take slumber or ale? Did they celebrate or was this just another day in their lives? She had so many questions swirling in her mind but she settled on only one.

"So what do we do now?"