“Now what, Dex?” Kragor asked his captain as they made their way out of a bar where they finished their most recent job.
“We divvy up the pay and have ourselves a good time,” Dexter said, grinning. It had been three successful jobs for them, following the double cross and run in with the pirates. Of course that had been successful too, Dexter figured, because Rosh had joined his crew and he seemed to be worth his weight in gold.
“I’m for liking that,” Rosh said, towering over the others.
Dexter chuckled and led the way back to the docks, where the Voidhawk lay moored to a pier. They were at Grafton, a large port on a small moon above Wallick, a planet covered nearly entirely in water. With water so readily available, a large amount of it had been transported up to the moon, filling in some craters and making life that much easier to support on the overgrown asteroid. With lakes came a ready place for void ships to land, since the majority were modified versions of planet-bound ships.
Back on the Voidhawk Dexter pulled out the bag of coins that the refugees had paid him. The last job had been a mercy run as much as anything. A group of slaves on Rayner, a large planet known for near constant warfare, had contacted him in hopes of buying his services. They needed to be smuggled off of the planet, and they had managed to scrounge up what amounted to a small fortune between them.
Rosh and Jenna had proved invaluable. Jenna orchestrated the diversion of the wealthy patrician’s guards while Rosh used his strength and skill to great effect in dispatching the few remaining guards and other impediments. The escaped slaves were loaded up, a dozen of them, and ferried off the planet to Grafton.
Dexter divided up the pay amongst them, wondering what he was going to do with his share, other than replacing used materials on the ship. “I’ll buy the first round,” Dexter offered, drawing a round of cheers from his crew.
“You for trusting the ‘Hawk to be here unguarded?” Kragor asked before they left.
Dexter glanced around, noting many Federation soldiers regularly patrolled the docks. He nodded. “Aye, I think she’ll be fine for a few hours.”
Kragor stroked his beard then shrugged and headed for the plank to the dock. Dexter, grinning, was right behind him as he gestured for the others to head out. They followed gladly, ending up at a nearby tavern called Skyharbor.
The food was a welcome change of pace from the type of fair they were accustomed to on the Voidhawk, even though Jodyne made as fine a meal as could be made with the materials at hand. The ale was welcome as well, giving them all a chance to unwind and relax.
After dinner Rosh let himself be pulled away by the arms of a woman skilled at parting a man from his money. Kragor and Dexter shared a chuckle as he grinned stupidly and disappeared through a door.
Dexter noted the sudden silence in his friend and caught the tail end of a glare from Jodyne. He stifled his own laugh out of respect for the man. The grin, however, remained.
Kragor finished his ale and bid the others farewell. He escorted his wife out of the tavern as chivalrously as he dared, leaving Dexter alone with Bekka and Jenna. Dexter let the amusement fade slowly and turned to behold his remaining crewmembers. Suddenly he felt uncomfortable, though he did not know why.
“Another round?” Dexter asked after draining the last of his ale.
“My thanks, Captain, but I will pass,” Bekka said. “I should get back to the ship as well.”
“We’re off the ship and relaxing, there’ll be no ranks here,” Dexter said, frowning.
“Alright, then I’m going to head back to the ‘Hawk, Dexter,” Bekka said with an amused smile.
Dex threw his hands up in the air good-naturedly and laughed. Bekka bid them farewell and then left. The captain of the Voidhawk turned to Jenna and raised and eyebrow.
“How about you?”
“Well, if we’re equals off the ‘Hawk,” the elven woman said, her lips curling up in a smile that looked dangerous. “Then what are your plans for the evening?”
Dexter chuckled, noting her choice of clothing was not only functional, but as the elven woman had once told him, also designed for making the fashion statement. The statement seemed to be one of promiscuity. “I’m not for knowing. It’s been a long time since I’ve had time for myself.”
“And here I thought you might have a mind to ply me with wine until you could have your way with me,” she said.
Dexter’s cheeks flared red. He had thought many times about her, his secret fantasies dancing about in his head whenever time permitted. He knew they would remain fantasies though — she was a member of his crew and that was a complication he was not willing to entertain. “Rank or not, I’m not for getting involved with my crew.”
Jenna slid from the chair she was in to one next to him. “What about your first mate and the cook?”
“What about them?” Dexter almost stammered. His eyes dropped down to her revealing vest and he felt the heat rush to his cheeks. He jerked his eyes up and wondered if more logs had been thrown on the fire; it was getting uncomfortably warm.
The sound of her musical laughter tortured him. “I have it on good authority that they’re sleeping with one another.”
Dexter could not help but chuckle. “Well, they’re married.”
“So there you are, two of your crew already involved,” she said, as though a problem had just solved itself.
“Aye, but I don’t get involved,” Dexter said after clearing his throat.
“I didn’t have any plans on involvement,” Jenna said, pouting. “Just a little fun is all.”
Dexter’s mouth opened and closed; he was at a loss for words. Unable to avert his eyes, he glanced down and he found her leaning forward so that the panels of her vest, which were hooked together with loose fitting fine chains, had fallen away from her body enough for him to see the full rise of her breasts and the pointed buds that stood out from them. Jenna grinned triumphantly, noting where his gaze had gone, and let him off the hook. “It seems I’ve had my fun now,” she said.
Before he could reply she stood up, leaning forward as she did so and giving him an even better view down her vest, and whispered in his ear, “I’ll see you back at the ship…Captain.”
Dexter watched her go, finding himself unable to speak and, even when he regained his composure, unable to stand up. He shook his head and promised himself to keep an eye on Jenna, well, sort of. He laughed at his own play of words and shook his head, ordering another ale.
“Captain Silvercloud?”
Dexter sighed, wondering what he was getting himself into this time. He turned and saw a beautiful red headed woman standing near him, a perfect smile upon her face. Somehow he managed to also note that she wore a green dress that had a low cut bodice, threatening to spill her breasts from it with a heavy breath. The skirt of her dress had cuts in the sides that allowed her long legs to slip through it with each stride, offering ethereal promises of the pleasures they could deliver.
“Uh… yeah,” Dexter replied as eloquently as he possibly could.
“My Master would like a moment of your time,” she said, her voice soft, sulky, and dangerous.
He cursed and took a drink of his ale, then smiled at her. “Time enough for him later, who might you be?”
“I am Jarnella,” she said. “My Master is Wizard Ormitor.”
“A wizard, you say?” Dexter said, reevaluating his designs towards Jarnella. Wizards were funny; there was no telling what they might be offended by. Especially since they seemed to know so much more than everybody else did.
He sighed, his plans of following in Rosh’s footsteps falling to pieces. “Well then, Milady Jarnella, take me to your master.”
She smiled at him and waited for him to stand. Dexter tossed a few extra pieces of silver on the table and followed behind her, his eyes taking in her gently swaying figure every step of the way.
Jarnella led him to another tavern, this one considerably nicer than the one near the docks where she found him. She directed him to a private booth where a man sat by himself, finishing off a goblet of wine. She slid into the booth next to the man and gestured for Dexter to sit across from them.
Dexter did as he was bid, and leaned back in surprise when a manservant delivered a tankard of fine ale for him. He thanked the man, then turned to his host.
“Dexter Silvercloud, captain of the Voidhawk, at your service,” he said, raising his tankard of ale in salute.
“I need to make a fast trip to my home,” Ormitor said without preamble. “What are your rates?”
Dexter blinked, surprised. “Well, you and Lady Jarnella? How much luggage will you be bringing?”
“She is no Lady,” Ormitor stated bluntly. “But we will require a single room, including my belongings. I have three other servants as well that will require a separate room.”
Dexter fought his distaste at the wizard’s caustic nature. He nodded and after only a moment of thought said, “Hundred and fifty gold is standard fare for you and your servants, but I’m afraid that does not make a trip to Port Freedom worth it, that’s several weeks journey and I can’t pay my crew on that.”
Ormitor sipped his wine at the same time that Dexter felt something brush against his leg. He glanced over at Jarnella and found her staring at him with a smoky smile on her face. The touch came again, sliding up the inside of his calf, confirming his suspicions that it was her foot, bereft of the sandal she had been wearing. Dexter quickly took a long pull of his own ale to hide the surprised expression on his face.
“There are hidden bonuses to taking on my patronage, Captain,” Ormitor said, the intent of his words intentionally clouded in mystery.
Dexter cleared his throat, secretly admitting that he had an idea what the wizard was referring to. Especially since Jarnella’s foot was passing his knee and seductively making its way up his thigh. “What sort of bonuses are those?” Dexter asked.
“I have no contraband or reason to avoid the Federation’s laws, if that concerns you,” he stated. “And a timely passage conducted professionally will earn further business from me. I have some freight, also legal, at my home that I need to have returned here. Freight that would bring a higher wage.”
Dexter found the deal sweetened, but still he was concerned at the wizard’s ambiguity. Jarnella’s foot, the toes drawing circles on his upper thigh, soothed some of those concerns away, however.
“That brings a shiny light to the deal, but still I can’t pay my crew on a hundred and fifty gold. I’d need to be finding some cargo to take as well to break even on it,” Dexter said. “And that may take some time, time that you’re not to keen on spending.”
Ormitor nodded, taking another sip. Jarnella’s foot pressed against Dexter’s groin in a way that promised all manner of hidden delights. Dexter spilled some of his ale as he raised it to his lips.
“Very well, promise me a journey of less than three weeks and I will pay five hundred gold,” Ormitor said. “But think not to trifle with me, Captain. You come recommended, but I have little patience.”
Dexter tried to think it over. Five hundred gold was a tidy sum, and certainly enough to split amongst his crew, especially with the promise of a larger paycheck to follow. Further thoughts were dashed when he felt Jarnella’s toes against his flesh. Without looking down, as he longed to do, he realized the woman had somehow managed to untie his breeches. Without a doubt she had proved she had a dexterity that was the stuff of legend.
“Five hundred gold will cover it,” Dexter said, his voice only mildly strained. Glancing at her he saw her expression had not changed, save that, if anything, she looked even more sexually alluring to him.
“Excellent. I shall have my equipment loaded in the morning. Now if you will excuse me, I have things to attend to.” Ormitor said with a thin smile.
Dexter nodded, finding speech a little too complicated at that exact moment. She removed her foot, letting it slide promisingly down his leg, and stood up a moment later.
Ormitor followed her, but Dexter remained sitting, unable and unwilling to rise at the moment. “Please, Captain, stay and enjoy another ale at my expense. I shall see you in the morn.”
Dexter nodded and waited for another ale to make its way over to him via the manservant. He took in a deep breath and, after several moments, managed to look down and see the results of Jarnella’s agile toes. He chuckled darkly and retied his breeches after repositioning himself. More than ever, he needed to find a joygirl to help relieve him of his troubles!
The next morning Dexter found himself in the bridge, charting a course to Port Freedom. Without the complications of women to distract him, his mind was focused on the prospects the new job offered. Port Freedom was outside of Federation and Elven space, near the outer edges of the known void. There was no telling what sort of cargo an enterprising captain like himself might manage.
Dexter shook loose his musings and refocused on charting the ships voyage. Making it in less than three weeks seemed easy enough, provided he did not run afoul of too many Federation patrols. If their cargo was legal, as the wizard insisted, then he had no concern about being held up, but every time they had to rendezvous with another ship was time slipping away. That and, in order to make the optimal speed, he had to forego established trading lanes and, whenever that happened, all sorts of things became possible: uncharted asteroid fields, pirates, and other oddities of the void.
“Captain, we’ve got some people asking to come aboard,” Jenna said, walking into the bridge.
Dexter turned, ignoring her familiarity and lack of knocking on the door before entering. He stopped when he saw her though and felt a fresh tightening of his breeches. The elf wore a sash around her waist that was tied as a loin cloth, displaying her long, lean, limber, and tasty looking legs. From each hip hung a weapon as well, to her left was her rapier and to her right a short sword acquired from the pirate base. A dagger was strapped to one thigh while a pistol adorned the other. That completed the adornment of legs, since she was barefoot as well.
Even more distracting was her upper body. Instead of a proper shirt or even the revealing vest from the night before, she wore another sash. This was wrapped around her neck and chest in a manner that left him curious as to its engineering, especially since it provided a neat pocket for each of her breasts yet left them independent of one another as well. He nearly had to shake his head to force himself to focus upon her face.
“Um, yes?” He stammered, obviously distracted.
Ignoring his reaction, save for a faint smile at the corner of her mouth, she said, “the visitors, Captain?”
“Oh, yes, let them on. They’re passengers and we’re leaving as soon as they’ve stowed everything away,” he explained quickly. Then he appraised her clothing once again before adding, “For my armsmistress you seem kind of underdressed.”
Jenna smiled and laughed, taking him away to a happier place for a moment. “We’re docked,” she explained. “I still have my weapons on me… care to find out just how helpless I am?”
Dexter chuckled. He had sparred with her since she acquired the short sword and found her even more dangerous than she had been before. He doubted he could beat her one time in ten, armored or not. “No thanks, you’re too quick with those blades.”
“Who said anything about weapons?” She asked with an innocent look on her face that was anything but innocent.
Dexter waved her away, scowling in spite of his momentary urge to take her up on her offer. “Go tell them to board.”
Jenna laughed again, dissolving his scowl into a goofy smile. She turned to leave then stopped and asked, “Where are we bound?”
“Port Freedom,” he told her.
The expression upon her face was one of consternation. Dexter wondered what it was about, but it disappeared just as quickly as it had come. She nodded and turned to let their passengers aboard. Dexter glanced back at the course he had plotted a final time then turned and followed after her. He found himself wishing that he had followed her more quickly, for she was off the stairs to the main deck by the time he made it to them, and he would have dearly enjoyed the view.
“Bekka, is the helm fully charged?” Dexter asked up on the deck. Bekka replied that it was, then fell silent as they watched the parade of passengers come up the plank and onto the deck.
Dexter fell silent as he watched. Ormitor was in the rear directly behind Jarnella. He carried only a small chest under one arm. Jarnella was preceded by his other three servants, each of which was arguably as beautiful as Jarnella was. Each also carried an assortment of items, from medium sized trunks to large and small sacks to backpacks. The weight of some of the items looked staggering, forcing Dexter and the others to wonder how the women managed it effortlessly.
“Captain,” Ormitor said by way of greeting, stepping foot on the Voidhawk.
Dexter looked at the wizard, forcing his gaze away from the parade of fashionably dressed women before him. He returned the wizard’s smile and said, “Right on time! If you’ll follow me I’ll show you to your rooms.”
He led them to the aft stairwell and took them down to the cargo deck. Once there he showed them the two staterooms. “You’ve got both of these rooms to use as you see fit. They are, however, short on beds if there are five of you. If you’d like I’ll have some spare blankets brought to you to rig up sleeping pallets.”
“These will suffice as they are, thank you,” Ormitor said, dismissing the issue. He then proceeded to order his girls as to where they were to place the loads that they carried.
“If you need anything, feel free to ask any of us, or seek out myself or Kragor, my first mate,” Dexter said, gesturing to the dwarf who was standing beside him. The rest of the crew had followed as well, with Rosh, in particular, gaping at the wizard’s servants.
“Thank you again, Captain. I suspect we will mostly keep to ourselves,” he said, then shut the door behind him.
Dexter turned to the others, who regarded him expectantly. He shrugged and led the way back up to the main deck. Once there he looked at them all again. “Okay, that’s our fare. Make ready to cast off, Bekka can you take us out please?”
“Aye, Captain,” the half-elf said, already turning and heading towards the bridge. The rest remained standing, lost in thought as to their strange passengers.
“You heard the captain, make ready to launch!” Kragor snapped, bringing everybody back to their senses. Dexter hid his smile and then had to chuckle when Kragor turned to him and rolled his eyes. The rest scattered to their positions.
“Don’t be thinking anything,” Jenna warned Rosh as they made their way to haul up the rope that would raise the mainmast.
“Me?” Rosh asked innocently. “What would I-“
“I know that look. I’ve beaten many men senseless for staring at me like that,” Jenna hissed.
“Ain’t looking at you,” Rosh said.
“I know,” she said, giving him a glare that made him stop and think. “I think I’d be more merciful than they would.”
Rosh stared after her as she walked across the deck to the rigging. He scratched the scruff on his chin, then grinned and followed, once again envisioning any one, two, three, or all four of the wizard’s servants in his bed.
The trip to Port Freedom was remarkably boring. Dexter and Rosh, in particular, kept hoping to catch sight of Ormitor’s servants. Unfortunately for them, it was only in his presence that they appeared, and he seldom came out of his cabin. All five of them stayed in his cabin as well, while the other room was typically used for storage of his personal effects.
In whispered conversations they all wondered at what took place behind the doors of the wizard’s rented room, with Rosh typically stating the most decadent and hedonistic of opinions.
“You think they all be sleeping in the bed at once?” Kragor asked a few days out as he, Jodyne, Bekka, and Rosh sat around the galley eating a mid day meal.
“I’m not for thinking they do much sleeping, if you know what I mean,” Rosh said, grinning from ear to ear.
“There ain’t room enough for the five of them!” Jodyne said reproachfully.
Rosh shrugged, then a new idea came to him. “Maybe he just watches?”
Kragor snorted the water he was drinking, which drew a cuff in the back of the head from his wife. Rosh laughed at his own joke.
“Watches what?” Bekka asked naively.
Rosh and Kragor both looked at her, surprised. Jodyne shook her head and got up from the table, starting to clear the plates. “Watches the girls with one another,” Rosh elaborated.
Bekka smiled as understanding hit her. “Oh!” She said, feeling a little silly. Then she shrugged. “Sounds like fun.”
For the first time in his life, Kragor let food escape from his open mouth. Jodyne smacked him in the back of the head again, which reminded him to shut his mouth and mumble something about needing to be off to do some work on the ship.
Rosh stared at her as well, unable to come to terms with what she had said. “I meant them was pleasurin’ one another,” he said, not believing she understood him in spite of what she had said.
“Of course, what else would they be doing?” Bekka responded.
“An it sounds like fun to you?” Rosh asked.
“Why wouldn’t it?”
Rosh’s eyes bulged and he looked at Kragor, who was shaking his head as he left the galley and headed to parts unknown. Rosh looked back at her and saw her focusing on finishing her food, a faraway smile on her face as she appeared to be thinking about it. He finished his water and stood up. “I’m,” he paused, wondering what he was going to do before finishing his thought, “gonna relieve Jenna.”
After they had left Jodyne shook her head and permitted herself a slight laugh. “He’s going to be struggling with that one for a while,” she admitted. “You be careful what you get yourself into, girl.”
Bekka looked up at her and smiled. “Thanks, I’ll try.”
Jodyne stared at her, realization dawning on the dwarven cook. “You was serious, wasn’t you? You wasn’t just putting wind in Rosh’s sail?”
Bekka nodded. “Why would I do that? I think it might be fun to try.”
Jodyne looked upwards towards the ceiling, and the stars beyond. “What have I let them talk me into?” She muttered, then grabbed up Rosh’s plate and turned to take care of it.
They docked at Port Freedom without any problems. They had only seen one Federation patrol the entire trip, and it had been far enough away that it did not bother following them and forcing them to allow an inspection. Once outside of controlled space they were all a little more anxious, since there was nothing stopping an enterprising captain from mounting some weapons and picking off the unarmed merchant ships. Fortunately, their journey was unmarked by any such incidents.
At Port Freedom, nearly a full week shy of their deadline, Ormitor handed over the promised wages. Dexter thanked him for it and wondered about the possibility of the further business the wizard had hinted at. Ormitor nodded and said he would send someone by later that day with the details.
Grumbling at the necessity of it, the crew remained aboard the ship. Port Freedom had both a drydock and a wetdock, catering to virtually any ship that would span the stars to reach them. The city was also renowned for the diversity of not only its inhabitants, but also in its wares and offerings. They all wished to see the place to explore and discover what they could find, but Dexter held them to the ship with a harsh command. That and by not distributing the pay they had received. With little money they had little reason to go ashore.
Jenna, alone, seemed less than enthusiastic about debarking the ship. She even spent little time on deck staring at the city, which was a conglomeration of multiple architecture styles from different races and different worlds. It looked chaotic and impossible, yet it thrived in spite of the chaos.
Unable to find her, Dexter knocked lightly on the door to her room, convinced she could be nowhere else. She responded almost immediately, inquiring who it was.
“It’s Dexter,” he said, his voice carrying through the door.
Just as quickly as the first time she responded, “The door’s always open for you, Captain.”
Dexter found her in her room, working oil into the boiled studded leather cuirass she had acquired between jobs. She sat on her bed wearing only a pair of men’s breeches that had been cut and sewn off less than midway down her thigh. Dexter’s eyes widened as he took her in and he blushed anew.
“I’m sorry, I’ll let you put something on,” he stammered, turning away from her and pulling the door to shut it.
“Oh stop it, I’m not putting this on until I finish, now get in here and shut the door behind you before Rosh sees me.”
Dexter hesitated, then, cursing every God he could think of on such short notice, he stepped into her room and shut the door behind him.
“What can I do for you, Captain?” Jenna asked, paying no mind to her partial nudity.
Dexter was unable to do so, although he tried valiantly. “I, um, I wondered if you were okay.”
“Don’t I look okay?” she asked him.
“Well yes, very,” he let slip. Then he caught himself. “I mean, no, not really. Something’s been bothering you about this place, I want to know what.”
“What if I said it’s none of your business?” she asked.
Dexter looked everywhere but at her, trying to be a good Captain. He opened his mouth to continue when she interrupted.
“Look at me, Dexter,” she demanded. Dexter did so, grudgingly. He stared at her face and met her gaze.
“No, I meant look at me,” she said, gesturing down her with her eyes. “This is who I am, and if you humans weren’t so hung up, I’d dress like this or wear less more often. So look at me and get it out of your system, you’ll see me like this many more times.”
Dexter gave in and ogled her, staring at her athletic breasts that begged him to… He licked his lips subconsciously and shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. He could not help but admire her form, which was very athletic and curved more than enough to remain feminine, yet in the manner of most elves she had a slight build and very little body fat.
Dexter realized he was about to take a step towards her and reigned himself in, reminding himself that he was supposed to look, but not touch.
“What’s wrong, Captain?” Jenna asked, feigning innocence again.
He chuckled. “You’re a beautiful woman, and perhaps even more dangerous without your blades than you are with them.”
Jenna smiled, her eyes twinkling at the compliment. “You’re not so tame or safe yourself, I think.”
“You going to get dressed so we can talk now?” Dexter asked her, content that he had passed her test.
“No, I like letting you see me like this,” she said, winking at him.
Dexter chuckled and shook his head. “Alright, suit yourself. Not so sure Rosh would handle that as well though, you might want to confine it to your quarters.”
“Or yours,” she said, licking her lips.
“Your quarters,” he stressed, his head still shaking.
She pouted then shrugged. “So what do you want to talk about?”
“About what’s bugging you about Port Freedom.”
“I said that’s my business,” she reiterated.
“If it runs any risk to my crew or my ship, it’s my business too,” he said firmly. “And since you’re part of my crew…”
Jenna looked at him strangely, then smiled. “Why Captain, I do believe you care…”
He scowled at her. “Spit it out.”
She took a deep breath, which made her breasts rise and fall in a very distracting manner, before speaking. “Port Freedom has a lot of elves. You might have noticed I’m an elf. I’m in Federation space because I didn’t always get along with my kind.”
“You wanted?” Dexter asked her.
She winked at him again. “Of course I am… don’t you want me?”
“That’s not what I meant!”.
“But you’re not denying it.”
Dexter threw his hands up in the air and turned towards the door. His gamble paid off.
“Sorry, Captain,” she admitted, although looking back at her and seeing her expression he suspected that she was anything but. “Yes, there were people looking for me a while back, but that was ten years or so.”
“Ten years is a long time, maybe they forgot?”
Jenna smiled, telling Dexter what she was going to say before she said it. “Elves have a long memory.”
“What did you do?”
“You’re a good man, Dexter,” she said, giving him a sincere smile. “You care about your crew and you take care of them — of us. Your only fault is that you won’t let your crew take care of you.”
“My…what?” Dexter asked, confused by her redirection.
She reached up with her hand, sliding it along her side and cupping one of her breasts in her hand. Dexter noticed her skin glistened with the oil that was on her hand, and watched with keen interest as she gently caressed her breast between her oily fingers. He raised his gaze to her face and saw the twinkle in her eyes, then her tongue as it licked her lips suggestively.
“Like I said, your crew could help take care of you,” she repeated.
Dexter chuckled a little nervously. “You’re changing the topic on me.”
She shrugged, letting her hand drop away from herself and leaving a glistening breast behind. “Not really. I’m saying that you’re a good man, and I respect and admire you. Another reason why I’d not be welcome among elves probably!”
She laughed, once again melting through Dexter’s defenses. He found himself fascinated with her oiled breast for a timeless moment before he forced himself to pay attention to her again. “Anyhow, because you are a good man I know you’ll understand when I tell you that I’m not ready to share my past with you quite yet.”
Dexter stared at her for a long moment, wondering if he was willing to concede it to her. Unlike his meeting with Ormitor and Jarnella, he did not feel manipulated by her overt sexual nature. No, with Jenna she was open and honest about it. She laid it on the table and let him know what was there, but she did not use it against him, she merely tried to convince him to have a taste.
“Alright, for now I can accept that,” he said. “I’ve got no plans to be heading for elf-space anytime soon anyhow.”
Dexter turned to leave, then glanced back at her, wondering when he’d have the chance to see her like that again. “Be sure to be wearing clothes about the deck, with Rosh about I’m afraid…”
Jenna smiled. “Always caring… yes Captain. But you must know I can take Rosh in a fight.”
Dexter chuckled. “I do know that, I’m afraid for him!”
She looked at him and then joined him in laughing; her musical voice adding to his in a way that sent shivers down his spine. He turned and left her quarters then, heading back to his quarters to go over some papers and to have a little private time to himself to think things through.
He had scarcely settled down when a soft knock came at his door. He rose from the table he was sitting at and opened the door, surprised at who was on the other side. It was Jarnella.
“What… did your master leave something behind?” He asked, stammering for words with the beautiful woman only inches away from him. She was dressed in something similar to what she had worn that first day he had met her, a fashionably revealing dress that cost enough gold to pay his crew a week’s worth of wages.
“My Master,” she said, saying the word ‘Master’ with a subtle difference that Dexter heard but did not understand, “sent me to negotiate delivery of some merchandise back to Grafton.”
“Oh, well, um, come in,” Dexter said, stepping away from the doorway and bidding her to enter.
Jarnella stepped in and pushed the door shut behind her, surprising him a little. She moved with a grace and sensuality that left him throbbing and needy, especially after his encounter with Jenna. He took a seat quickly at his small table, offering her the other chair. Instead she sat on the edge of the bed, her skirts parting to reveal a glimpse up a beautiful long leg.
“So what is this merchandise?” Dexter asked, desperate to keep things quick and professional for once.
“It is a magical devise, perfectly legal. It must remain in its container at all times, and only the man to whom it is delivered must open it,” she explained without preamble.
Dexter’s eyes dipped into the cleavage on display and he wondered how much larger her breasts were than Jenna’s. He nodded, snapping himself out of it, and was both happy and disappointed at the efficiency of the conversation. “I’ve got no problem with that,” he said. “What are the terms of passage?”
“It is waiting on the dock to be loaded. If you accept it will be loaded and must be there within three weeks, but we already know you can make the trip.” Jarnella’s legs shifted slightly, spreading to allow her more stability on the edge of the bed. Her skirts slid between her legs more, allowing Dexter to glimpse the creamy skin of inside of her upper thigh.
Dexter nodded. He had been surprised at the good time they had made, and wondered if it indicated a change in luck for him and the Voidhawk, or if perhaps it only meant his next voyage would be that much worse because of it. “And the pay?”
“Deliver it and collect the payment from the buyer, return it to my Master and you will receive it,” she said, leaning forward. That only allowed an enhance view of the valley that disappeared between the concealed flesh of her bosoms.
“I meant how much,” he asked, his annoyance fleeting in light of her beauty. He was on guard this time though, unwilling to let her manipulate him quite as easily as she had the first time. Of course the first time he had still come out okay on the deal; it was a matter of principle to him.
“What do you want?” she asked in a voice that dripped seduction. Dexter was not sure how, but she had leaned forward more and her legs had spread some more as well, so that the panel of cloth that served as the front portion of her skirt had dropped between both legs and only covered her loins.
He blinked and the ties on her bodice loosened. They remained tied, but he was certain they had loosened and her breasts seemed on the verge of spilling out. He caught himself hoping she might sneeze and dislodge them for him.
“I want,” Dexter caught himself, knowing how good she was at this. He wondered if she was not a servant of Ormitor so much as an apprentice. She certainly was good at bewitching him! “I want to pay my crew. There and back will cost 1000 gold. I’m not keen on becoming your master’s personal shipper either, so we’ll be on our way after this is over.”
“Only a thousand?” Jarnella asked, frowning slightly. “You could have had more.” She straightened back up a little, disappointing Dexter. He was further disappointed by her words.
He brightened, considerably, when he noticed that the bodice on her dress, unmistakably, had loosened again. It remained tied, impossibly, but now the strings were tied at the fourth loop from the top, instead of the top one. The edges of it peeled away, giving her more room to breathe, among other things.
“I’d be happy to renegotiate,” Dexter offered weakly.
“Nothing is agreed upon, what else might you desire?” she asked, smiling and leaning forward eagerly again. Dexter made the mistake of looking at her beautiful lips as they moved with her words, then glanced back at her dress and was astonished to see it had, yet again, re-laced itself without his knowledge. Now the top seven loops were empty, yet it remained tied in the eighth one.
“What else are you offering?” Dexter asked, having a feeling that he was on a very slippery slope.
“My Master bade me to offer you whatever it is you required, within reason,” Jarnella said.
“I see,” Dexter said, although in truth he wanted to see, and feel, much more. “How much negotiating room do I have?”
Jarnella lifted her hands from the bed and placed them on her exposed thighs, near her knees. She slid them up her legs, pushing the skirts further away as she did so. “Uh-uh, that’s cheating.”
Dexter was not sure he wanted to play the game anymore, it was getting awfully warm in his cabin, after all. “I’d not want to be called a cheater,” Dexter admitted, matching her smile. “But you be the one wanting to contract my services, what are you willing to pay?”
Jarnella smiled and Dexter realized that her bodice was no longer tied. The dress kept her breasts trapped within it, but they bobbed free of it within and Dexter could have sworn he could see hints of the rosy colored flesh crowing them. “You’ve felt what my toes can do; imagine what the rest of me is capable of.”
To prove her point she used the fingers of both hands to scrape lightly up and down her legs. Dexter’s eyes widened and he swallowed loudly. “I am mighty curious,” he admitted somewhat nervously, “but that’s hardly a deal I can’t strike with myself, if you know what I mean.”
She smiled and before Dexter knew it, she slid off the edge of the bed and was on her knees and moving seductively towards him. She sucked on her finger and then pulled it out and dragged it down her chin and neck, then across her chest until she slid it beneath her dress to tease both herself and Dexter. Dexter’s breathing came faster. Her hands were on Dexter’s knees then, gently parting them so she could move between them undisturbed. Dexter looked down at her, eyes wide and his nostrils flaring with excited breath.
Someone knocked at his door, the harsh sound intruding upon the atmosphere of the room. Dexter looked up sharply, snapping out of the lust induced spell she had weaved. When he looked back at her he saw she was missing. Looking up he saw her back on the bed, her bodice once again tightly laced and everything perfectly in place about her. He gaped at her, not understanding.
“Is a thousand gold enough for the journey, Captain?” she asked loudly enough for whoever was outside his cabin to hear him.
Dexter shook his head and cleared his throat. Grasping for straws he said, “Twelve hundred and it’s a deal.”
She nodded, smiling and winking at him. “A deal is struck, I shall have it loaded and you can be on your way. The cargo must be delivered to the governor of Grafton, Sir Drayful the Wise.”
She rose up and opened the door, revealing Bekka, Jenna, and Rosh standing outside in the hallway. Dexter followed her out into the hallway and watched as she walked a few paces to the circular staircase.
Jarnella stopped, her foot on the first step, and said, “Oh, Captain, please give Sir Drayful this when he gives you payment for the cargo.” She slid her hand in the slit in her skirts, making it disappear somewhere on her upper thigh. Her hand reappeared a moment later holding an ornate key with a ribbon tied around it. She tossed it through the air to him, which he caught with no difficulties. By the time he had it in hand her skirts were vanishing from their view at the top of the stairs.
“Where did she keep that?” Rosh asked, eyes wide and excited.
Dexter looked at him, opened his mouth to respond, then thought better of it and closed it. It was warm to the touch but he knew damn well from what he had glimpsed earlier that it had not been hidden next to either of her thighs. Dexter just smiled and winked at him, then followed Jarnella up onto the main deck.
Jenna gave him a funny look as he left, while Bekka gazed thoughtfully at Jarnella. Rosh stood still for a moment, trying to decide whether he should be upset or not at Dexter’s response.
“Captain, something’s been bothering me,” Bekka confided in him several days after they had left Port Freedom. They were swapping out on the helm, something that Dexter was discovering he might not want to be a regular part of much longer.
He loved flying a ship, that much was true, and he was a good pilot. However, he often felt that his time could be better spent not glued to the helm as he often was. He wanted to make Bekka the primary helmsman — er, helmswoman, but she would need a backup or two, and thus far he did not have enough crew to support such a thing. They still ran extremely lean, something he hoped to fix.
But first he had more immediately things to deal with. “What’s bothering you?” he asked her, rising up from the seat and letting her take over. He stretched out his stiff muscles while he waited for her to find the words.
“It was Jarnella,” she began. Immediately Dexter’s heart beat a little faster at the memory of the intoxicating and seductive woman. “Well, not just her. All of Ormitor’s servants were a bit strange.”
“A bit strange?” Dexter asked. If only she knew the half of it!
“Yes Sir, I can tell things about people, it’s part of my talent, like if they’re special or not,” she explained.
“Special?” Dexter asked, raising an eyebrow.
Bekka frowned. “Not special, really… but different. Magical, I guess.”
It was Dexter’s turn to frown. “Magical?”
“Yes, there is something about them that is unnatural and magical,” Bekka said.
Dexter nodded. It made sense and explained both Jarnella’s otherworldly seduction and the trick with the laces of her bodice. He almost grinned as he remembered how he had particularly liked that trick.
“Are they his apprentices?” Dexter wondered aloud.
Bekka frowned and shook her head. “I don’t think so. I can’t explain why, but they don’t seem to be practitioners, rather magic is a part of them.”
Dexter took a deep breath and let it go. He smiled his understanding, or lack thereof, and thanked her, then let her take over the helm while he made his way up to the main deck.
The stars moved slowly at first, then faster and faster as the Voidhawk reached cruising speeds under Bekka’s skilled guidance at the helm. Dexter paid little attention to them, however, instead he stood off the bow and stared into their future, pondering the nature of his current employer almost as much as he pondered the nature of his servants. Mixed here and there in his thoughts were questions about his cargo as well.
“Captain,” Jenna said, coming up beside him. It was a greeting more than a question or a prelude to something else.
Dexter sighed and let his unanswered thoughts slide. He turned and offered Jenna a smile. “How’re things running?” he asked her.
Jenna shrugged. “Kragor’s done a fine job with the ship… for a dwarf,” she said. “Rosh handles the rigging well, and everyone else chips in as needed. We’re running lean at tactical speeds, but doing well out here.”
Dexter nodded, her observations mirrored his thoughts as well. “I want to add a few more hands, I think,” he said rhetorically. “A couple more helmsmen would be nice, giving us spare hands on deck and let me get off the helm and be a proper captain.”
Jenna smiled. “I don’t know if there’s anything proper about you,” she said with a smile. Then she added, “Sir.”
Dexter chuckled and took note that she was wearing her studded leather cuirass, greaves, bracers, gloves, and boots that he had seen her oiling. She noted his interest in her body, or at least her attire, and smiled appreciatively, but did not comment.
“Figure out what our cargo is yet?” Dexter asked her, knowing her curiosity would have her poking around it.
She shrugged. “Something in a box. Bekka insists there’s magic about it, so I’ve been staying away.”
“I thought elves had a sense of magic about them?”
Jenna snorted at his question. “And I thought humans bred like rabbits and had no wits about them.”
He chuckled. “Alright, sorry, you’ve a point there.”
He looked at Jenna a little more closely, suddenly realizing something. “You’ve been talking to Bekka?”
Jenna shrugged. “Here and there. It’s a small ship, not much for conversation. Besides, Kragor’s and Jodyne are dwarves; you’re always turning me down, which is bad for a girl’s self-esteem; and Rosh is…well… Rosh.”
Dexter chuckled, Rosh was indeed Rosh. He could not help but like the big guy, however. His simple ways were not proof of a simple mind, as he had first thought. Instead it was just the man’s way of dealing with life to keep matters from becoming complicated.
Dexter smirked at his armsmistress’ response, but kept his thoughts to himself, lest he provoke her unnecessarily.
“What about that wizard’s whores?” Jenna asked, surprising him.
“His whores?” Dexter asked, the word somewhat uncomfortable in his mouth. “They are his servants, not whores.”
Jenna gave him a disdainful look. “The man kept all four of them in his cabin with him. You really think he wasn’t enjoying more than conversation.”
Dexter chuckled in spite of himself. He certainly could not blame the man if he was. In fact, that many beautiful women…
Jenna’s gaze narrowed slightly as she saw the grin on his face. She spat over the railing and walked away. Dexter watched her go, wondering what had bothered her so much. He found his gaze drawn to the way her hips swayed. He noted that they seemed to sway even more when she was angry, although why she was angry he did not know.
Dexter also noted that he desperately needed to bed a woman. Much longer without and he might even start finding Rosh and Kragor appealing!
His musings were cut short when he felt a slight shift in the Voidhawk’s momentum. He turned and looked about, seeing the velocity of the stars dropping sharply. They had entered the gravity field of another object, either another ship or an asteroid or planet.
“Ship ahoy!”
Dexter looked up to where Kragor was taking a rare turn in the crow’s nest and saw him pointing off the port bow. He turned and stared at it, then cursed. It was a Federation frigate.
“Come to port and bring us alongside, she’s heading straight for us,” Dexter called out to his crew. “Kragor, signal that we’ll stand down for boarding.”
The dwarf ran out the flag while Jodyne, Rosh, and Jenna scrambled about the rigging and tiller, making the ship turn to meet Dexter’s commands. They closed rapidly with the frigate, and before they knew it they found themselves receiving the ropes tossed over by the Federation sailors.
“Federation Captain Gedmun D’arcy requesting permission to come aboard,” a short man from the frigate said.
“Permission to come aboard granted,” Dexter said signaling for Rosh to help the Federation sailors extend the gangplank.
After it was secure and Gedmun made his way over, with a squad of ten well armed Federation sailors, Dexter greeted them and said, “I’m Captain Dexter Silvercloud, of the free trader Voidhawk. How may I be of assistance?”
“Captain, nothing personal here, just your bad luck to be run across. I’m afraid I have to inspect your ship for contraband,” Gedmun said, surprising Dexter with his realism.
Dexter smirked, “very well, my first mate, Kragor, will show you to our hold.”
Kragor shimmied down from the crow’s nest atop the mast, surprising more than one of the Federation soldiers with his speedy descent. He moved beside Dexter and looked up the short distance it took to meet the gaze of Captain Gedmun. “You’ll be wanting the cargo holds then?”
Gedmun nodded. “Aye, and the steerage and ballast.”
Kragor grunted. They had never been so full that they needed to take on steerage, they had no ballast either, for they stayed out of most atmospheres and only landed in small controlled water harbors. There were several two hundred and fifty gallon barrels of water in the bilge, as well as some spare wood for repairs to the hull should they be necessary, but little else was of concern.
“This should be a short inspection, Captain,” Dexter said. “We’re only transporting a single item of cargo, a box for a wizard to Sir Drayful the Wise, governor of Grafton. It’s magically protected and he insisted it only be opened by Sir Drayful.”
Gedmun frowned but said nothing. He nodded after a moment then said, “thank you, Captain. Kragor, after you.”
The dwarf nodded to Dexter then led the Federation captain and his sailors into the cargo holds. Curious, Dexter nevertheless remained on the deck with Rosh and Jenna. He knew the Federation and their rules, but he also would not put it past an overzealous Federation captain to try something special.
A quarter of an hour later Captain Gedmun returned to the main deck with a rather heated looking Kragor behind him. “Captain, your mate refuses to allow my men to open your cargo.”
Dexter tried, and failed, to hide his scowl. He had been afraid something like this might happen. Before he could reply they all felt a supernatural chill pass through them from feet to head. It was accompanied by a scream that faded away quickly. With scarcely a glance at Jenna, Dexter was running to the stairs and from there to the cargo hold from whence it had come. Jenna and Rosh were right behind him, as was the Federation captain and the three sailors that had followed him up from the hold.
Dexter cursed when he entered the hold. One of Gedmun’s men was on the ground, his expression one of horror. The other sailors stood away from the crate, terrified of it. Dexter knelt and checked the corpse, then had to make room as Gedmun knelt beside him and did the same.
“What happened?” They both asked of the other Federation soldiers.
Several started to talk at once, then they all stopped and one stepped forward and resumed. “Percy, Sir, he figured he could get it open on his own and save you the trouble of an argument with their captain.”
“And?” Gedmun said, his glance spearing into the sailor.
“Well, he started to fiddle with the lock, he did, and then he stiffened up and his eyes roll back in his head. We all felt the cold then, Sir. It came outta that crate then Percy screamed like he was taking it all in himself,” he reported, glancing at the others for support. They were all nodding at the sailor’s recounting of the supernatural terror.
“Captain, I have to confiscate this box and put your ship and crew under arrest,” Gedmun said, turning to face Dexter.
Rosh started to move forward but Jenna stopped him with a hand on his arm. Dexter ignored them and focused on the Federation captain. “The wizard insisted the crate not be opened until it reached its destination. I told you the same. That your man tried to open it is his fault, not ours!”
Gedmun nodded and sighed. “So he did,” he admitted. “I can’t and won’t hold you accountable for his death, it being accidental and all.”
“What I must do,” he continued, glancing at the box and then back at Dexter. “Is hold it for magical examination. This was bound for the governor of Grafton, yet it killed the first man to open it. That says, to me, that it could very well be a magical assassination attempt.”
Dexter cursed. He had never considered that angle. Perhaps Ormitor had been willing to offer him whatever he wanted, knowing that he would be apprehended and killed after he delivered death to Sir Drayful. With Jarnella brokering the deal she kept his mind in the clouds enough that he never stopped to consider any alternatives, he was too focused on the beautiful woman and her sensuality.
The key! Dexter had a key. He looked to Jenna and Rosh. Jenna nodded, indicating she would follow him in whatever decision he chose. Rosh simply looked ready to explode into action.
“I can open the crate,” Dexter said, facing Gedmun again. “I will prove that there is nothing of the sort inside of it, or die in the attempt myself.”
Gedmun looked at him, frowning. Finally he nodded. “Very well, Captain, go ahead.”
Dexter took the key from his pocket, noting that it still felt as warm as it had when Jarnella had given it to him. He knelt down next to the box and hesitated. Turning back to the Federation captain he said, “If this be my final act, my crew and ship — and I — knew nothing of the nature of this box. Take it if you wish and return to Wizard Ormitor of Port Freedom with any grievances. But, let my crew and ship be on their way.”
Gedmun thought Dexter’s request over and then, at last, nodded. “If it is your last wish, I will honor it.”
Dexter turned back to the crate and took a deep breath. He felt a small hand on his shoulder then and, without turning, knew Jenna was offering him encouragement. He slipped the key in the lock and wondered, in hindsight, if anything happening to him would happen to her as well. He turned the key in the lock, feeling and hearing a resounding click.
Everybody save Jenna, Rosh, and Gedmun backed away. Kragor watched from the doorway to the hold, unable to enter due to the sheer number of bodies and plainly irritated by that simple fact. Dexter reached out, feeling no different, and lifted the lid of the crate, noting that it seemed more like a large chest than a crate all of a sudden.
Inside the crate mists swirled. They rose out of the crate, making some of the sailors curse or whimper in fear. They faded on contact with the air, however, and revealed their contents.
Laying upon silken sheets was a young woman who looked to be no more than twenty years old. She was dressed in a silken midnight blue gown, her wavy raven tresses framing an angelic face. She was a woman that bore only a faint resemblance to Jarnella and her fellow servants, for she possessed breathtaking beauty. Her eyes opened and beheld Dexter above her. She smiled and mouthed a single word.
“Master.”
Jenna’s hand on his shoulder clamped down, her fingernails biting into his skin before she retracted it. Beside her Rosh’s intake of air could easily be heard. Gedmun gasped beside him and stared at her. Dexter cursed, knowing that his life had just gotten more complicated.
“No, lass, I’m not your master, I’m just…” Dexter cursed, not knowing what he was.
“Yes, you are my Master and I am your servant, Keshira.”
“Captain, you know that transporting slaves in Federation Space is illegal,” Gedmun stated, his voice soft and respectful in spite of his pronouncement of doom.
“Don’t s’pose it helps me none that I had no idea she was in here?” Dexter said, turning away from the girl and back to Gedmun.
Gedmun continued to stare at the newly discovered woman. He glanced at Dexter finally and shook his head a bit. “What’s that? Oh… no, no I’m afraid it does not. She’s going to have to come with me, I’m afraid.”
“I cannot leave my Master,” she said, her voice silky, pleasant, and promising all sorts of hedonistic pleasures.
“Stop saying that!” Dexter said, turning back to her. He rose up and turned to his crew, his eyes pleading for help. Jenna’s gaze was smoldering with fury. He had no idea what had gotten into her, but he knew no help awaited him there. Rosh, on the other hand, had eyes only for Keshira, and it was obvious what was on his mind.
“Captain Gedmun, clearly this be no matter of slavery. I, we, none of us, had any idea she was in that box! There be magic involved in this, and we’ve got no wizard among us!” Dexter protested, clearly agitated by the turn of events.
“I understand that you were unwitting dupes in this, Captain,” Gedmun said, puffing out his chest and offering his hand to Keshira. “Which is why I will escort this young lady to a safe Federation port and let her be on her way back to her family or friends.”
When she made no move to rise, he lowered his hand closer to her. “My Lady, take my hand so I can escort you to my ship.”
“Half a minute there, Captain,” Dexter said. “This business is between me, this girl and Ormitor. If it’s all the same I’d rather head back to Port Freedom and have words with him over this. He assured me my cargo was legal. I’m not for smuggling flesh, I’ll have you know.”
“You may deal with your employer as you see fit, if the Lady will come with me, I’ll let you, your crew, and your ship go and naught will be mentioned of it,” Gedmun assured him, again gesturing for Keshira to take his hand.
Dexter glanced back down at Keshira and saw her still staring up at him patiently. Expectantly. He sighed and gestured at her while saying, “get up, already!”
“Yes, Master,” she said with a smile that would melt steel. She gracefully climbed to her feet from the box, standing up and presenting herself. She was even more beautiful standing.
Her dress clung to her body, accentuating her natural curves and making them so perfect as to seem almost unnatural. She stood just shy of six feet tall, only a hair shorter than Dexter. Her deep and expressive eyes were a sapphire blue, which was further set off by her dress. Her hair now fell about her shoulders, but it fell in curls that, when straightened, would probably allow it to fall to her shoulder blades.
Every man in the room, and the dwarf in the hallway, stared at her, momentarily spellbound.
“Lady Keshira, follow me to the Gavel… that’s my ship,” Captain Gedmun said, his voice showing signs of irritation that she was all but ignoring him.
“Stay where you are,” Dexter said, then shook his head when she replied, “yes, Master.”
Ignoring her he turned to Gedmun and made sure that Kragor, Rosh, and Jenna — who was glaring daggers into him — could see him as well. “The girl was on my ship, that makes her my responsibility. I’m not for being played a fool, Captain. If she wishes to go with you, I’ll let her…”
“I must stay with you, Master, or I will have no purpose,” Keshira said behind him, interrupting him.
Jenna’s eyes narrowed. Rosh’s grin spread and his hand inched down his side so that it was close to one of the large daggers on his hip. Kragor muttered something in dwarvish and took up position outside the door to prevent anyone from entering or leaving the room.
“Well there you have it,” Dexter said, not entirely comfortable with it. “She stays.”
“Unacceptable,” Gedmun said, staring at her. “Bring her!” He snapped to his remaining nine sailors.
One of them stepped forward, then another. They both grabbed her arms, one to a side, and tried to force her forward. Dexter waved subtly at Rosh to not draw steel…yet.
Keshira did not budge. Both sailors strained but were unable to move her. One pulled her arm and managed to raise it some, but then she surprised him by yanking back on it, pulling him off balance. Then she pushed, hard, and sent him staggering into a wall. She looked at the other sailor and he quickly let go of her arm.
“Seems she means it, Captain,” Dexter said.
“That’s not possible!” The shaken sailor blurted out, staggering away from the wall and looking at her. “No woman’s strong enough to throw me like that!”
It did seem impossible, he was a good sized man wearing a studded leather harness and armed with a dagger, crossbow, and short sword, all items that would weigh him down further.
“My helmsman says there’s magic involved. The crate was magicked, ‘haps she is as well?” Dexter suggested.
Gedmun, his cheeks flushing red with frustration and anger, nodded and spat out, “fetch Anaskus!”
The sailor closest to the door turned to leave and stopped abruptly when he saw Kragor in the way. Dexter nodded to Kragor and the dwarf moved out of the way for the Federation soldier to hurry up on deck and head over to his ship.
He returned several tense minutes later with a man who’s dress resembled nothing like the other sailors save for the insignia of rank on the right collar of his tunic. Clearly, from the multiple pockets on his loose fitting tunic and pants, as well as some of the runes embroidered into his clothing, he was a wizard.
He stopped as soon as his eyes fell on Keshira. The initial male reaction was to be expected, but his bordered on the professional as well. He moved forward again, walking around her and studying her. Her eyes followed him, though the pleasant smile on her face never faded.
He stopped in front of her, then closed his eyes and uttered several words in an arcane language that left Dexter feeling nervous. His hands gestured in accordance to the words of the spell, then he was finished and his eyes opened. They glowed with a purplish light and as he stared at Keshira, then he grunted and stumbled backwards, his hands going to his eyes to cover them.
He turned to the others, the purple light fading from his eyes as he did so. “This is no matter of slavery,” he said, confusing everyone.
“But she was sold to a man as a servant and imprisoned!” Gedmun spat out, infuriated at the possibility of losing her.
“It, Captain Gedmun,” Anaskus said. “This thing is not human.”
Everyone turned to stare at Keshira, who seemed unperturbed by his proclamation.
“She looks human to me,” Rosh said, his eyes devouring her and his voice daring the wizard to declare otherwise.
“It is a construct. A golem. A soulless and unthinking creation of magic and flesh. The wizard that created her is unequalled in skill, but she is no more human than the wooden floor upon which we stand,” he said, delivering his report.
“Is this true?” Dexter asked Keshira, having trouble believing that she was no more than a mindless automaton.
“Yes, Master, I was created to serve you,” she — or it — said in response to him.
“No, damn it!” Dexter sputtered. “Not me, you were to serve another, Sir Drayful!”
She smiled at him, which was infuriating. “I know only you, Master, the one I awoke to see and am now bonded to forever. I am yours to command.”
Rosh cursed under his breath and he heard another muttering from Jenna that also sounded far from complimentary.
“It is a possession, Captain, not a person. I fear there is nothing for us here,” Anaskus said to his captain.
Gedmun opened his mouth and then shut it. He nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak, and gestured for his sailors to return to his ship, the Gavel. He cast a last longing glance at Keshira before storming out in the wake of his men.
Dexter turned to look at Keshira, then turned away to look at the others. Rosh was grinning like a fool and Kragor was watching the others leave. He turned and met Dexter’s eyes and could only shrug. When Dexter turned to see Jenna he saw her open and then close her mouth, then she shook her head and hurried out of the cargo hold.
“What’s wrong with her?” Rosh asked, confused. Dexter just shrugged, equally lost.
“Let’s help them cast off, then we’re to head back to Port Freedom and get this taken care of,” he ordered, heading towards the main deck himself.
With Jenna nowhere to be found, they released the lines holding the ships together and bid the Federation ship safe travels, though the Federation Captain was similarly nowhere to be found.
Several hours later, Dexter had scoured the ship and found no sign of Jenna. He went to the last place she could be, which was also the most likely place he expected her to be, in her cabin. He knocked on the door and was again greeted with the question, “Who comes?”
“Dexter,” he responded.
She was silent for a long moment before saying in a softer voice that he barely heard through the door, “come in.”
Dexter opened the door and stepped in, absent mindedly wondering if she was going to be partially nude again. His life had become complicated enough that any pleasure he might have derived from the thoughts was missing. Well… almost.
“It’s your ship, Captain,” she said once he was in her room. “I told you the door’s always open for you.”
Dexter nodded. “So you did,” he admitted. “Everyone deserves some privacy though.”
She nodded. “It’s appreciated. What can I do for you, Sir?”
Dexter frowned. He took a deep breath and let it fly. “What’s your bother? I need you on the deck when we’re in a situation.”
Jenna’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed angrily. She ground her teeth together then nodded. “Yes, Captain, won’t happen again.”
Dexter groaned and threw his hands in the air. He turned to leave and then turned back. “No, damn it, what’s the problem?”
“No problem, Captain,” she said in clipped tones. “Happy to be here.”
Dexter shook his head and wondered what he could say to bring her out of her funk. Ultimately he could think of nothing so he just left a peace offering on the way out, “alright, my door’s always open too, if you want to talk.”
Dexter barely heard her parting comment as he headed out of her passage, “I’m sure Keshira’ll be bending your ear a-plenty.”
Barely back up on the deck he walked past Rosh, who was showing Keshira, per Dexter’s orders, how to work the rigging of the ship. She had changed from the dress she had been wearing to a more functional tunic and pants that were baggy on her. She still looked beautiful in spite of her poor fashion.
“Captain!” Rosh said, getting his attention.
Dexter stopped and looked at him, then nodded for him to go ahead.
“She’s amazing, Captain,” he said honestly. “Stronger than…well… the strongest man I know!”
“Who’s that, Rosh?” Dexter asked, already knowing how powerful the man was and promising himself to never run into the man Rosh considered the strongest man alive.
“Well, me, I guess,” he said, scratching his scruffy chin. Dexter laughed, unable to stop himself.
“She learns fast,” he continued. “I show her something once and she’s better’n me at it!”
Dexter grunted, offering a half-hearted smile. It did him little good to hear that she was as promising as she sounded, since he planned to be rid of her as soon as they returned to Port Freedom.
“Well, keep at it, we’ve four days to return to Port Freedom, no telling what we might run into this far out,” Dexter said.
“Wait, Captain,” Rosh said, looking around and lowering his voice. Dexter paused for Rosh to continue. “I hear you’s looking for more helmsmen?”
Dexter stopped, not sure he heard him right. He nodded after a moment and Rosh finished his request. “I’d like to learn me how to fly a ship… Sir.”
“I’d still work the rigging and deck off shift,” he hurried to add.
Dexter cocked his head and thought about it, after only a short moment he shrugged and smiled, surprising his anxious deckhand. “Alright, we’ll try it out.”
Rosh grinned ear to ear, then clapped Dexter on the back, which sent him staggering. He straightened and smiled weakly before turning to leave.
“Um, Captain… one more thing.”
Dexter turned, “yes?”
“I know that Fed wizard said she was belonging to you and I was wondering if I, um, if I could, ya know, borrow her?”
Dexter’s eyes widened and he fought the urge to laugh at the incredible request. “Rosh…I,” he paused, then shook his head, unable to find words to say. “No, Rosh, I don’t know what she is but while she’s on my boat, she’s nobody’s property.”
“Yes Sir,” Rosh said, nodding and turning back to his work quickly, his cheeks already flushing red with embarrassment at the rejection.
Kragor found Dexter on the forecastle, staring at the stars. Or, perhaps, he was trying to see into the future, the dwarf could only guess.
“Dex,” Kragor said by way of greeting, leaning against the railing beside him.
Dexter offered the dwarf a smile. “Hell of a day,” he replied.
“We need a bigger crew, boy-o,” Kragor said.
Dexter nodded. “I’m working on it,” he said. Then he chuckled before adding, “Can you believe Rosh wants to learn to be a helmsman?”
Kragor shrugged. “Who ya think told him to ask you?”
Dexter looked at his first mate and long time friend and then chuckled again. “Figures,” he said. “And Jodyne thinks I’m the troublemaker!”
Kragor could not hide his grin. He did, however, glance at the deck to make sure his wife was not on it and able to hear him. His eyes fell on Keshira and he watched her work, her strength amazing as she worked the ropes that Rosh showed her.
“She’s a sight,” he offered.
Dexter turned to look at her and sighed. “That she is… and it makes sense now. All of Ormitor’s servants… they’re like her.”
Kragor nodded. “Aye, I was thinking as much. Strong, beautiful, and not alive. I’m for guessing he’s not a man to be on the wrong side of.”
“Wizards,” Dexter grumbled, to which Kragor agreed by way of spitting over the railing.
“Reckon we’ll be on that side when he learns she didn’t make it to Grafton,” Dexter said.
“Aye,” Kragor acknowledged. “We could run. Hide, stay clear o’ this part o’ the void for a bit.”
Dexter gave him a look that confirmed what the dwarf already knew. He missed the old Dexter, the mischievous man that would poke fun at anyone he could, especially if they were bigger, stronger, and more powerful or dangerous — so long as he had a hole to bolt to. The new Dexter was responsible for a ship and crew, and he knew it and acted it. While Kragor missed the old Dex, he admired the man he had turned into even more.
“I’m not for wanting her, old friend,” Dexter said. “I’ll have no slaves about me.”
“You heard the wizard, she’s not alive! She’s an object… a thing,” the dwarf said. It was a bit eerie, he supposed, but she looked to be able to do the work of two men.
“Look at that,” Dexter said, gesturing at her with his chin. “She look like a ‘thing’ to you?”
Kragor stroked his beard thoughtfully, trying to come up with something to shore his argument. He could not and grudgingly admitted as much, “guess not. Them others din’t seem like her, them was more… lively.”
Dexter looked at Kragor, realizing the dwarf had just pointed out something that bothered him. Why was Keshira less lively? She behaved like a child, soaking up everything around her, but unlike a child she had no personality. Jarnella had been full of personality, or at least it seemed like personality. Perhaps it was just part of her conditioning, to be a sultry seductress.
Remembering Jarnella brought a rush of blood to Dexter’s face. To think, he had almost let himself be seduced by a…a… well, whatever she was. A construct, the Federation wizard had called her. He shook his head to rid himself of his incriminating thoughts.
“I’d best relieve Bekka from the helm,” he muttered. Kragor nodded to Dexter’s back as the captain headed for the forward staircase.
On the bridge Bekka decelerated the ship and rose from the helm slowly, stretching out the stiffness that inevitably set in. It was a shock, separating from the helm, because the consciousness had to part from the ship and re-associate with the body.
“We’ve got a new deckhand?” Bekka asked him.
Dexter nodded, having forgotten that Bekka had not been around during the encounter. From the helm she could sense everything that took place on the ship, and she could see in all directions from it, but she could not see inside the ship or onto the main deck.
“Only till we’re back at Port Freedom and the wizard takes her back,” Dexter said.
Bekka looked at him blankly, not understanding. Dexter sighed and explained the encounter with the Federation wizard and captain in the cargo hold, as well as what they knew of the girl that was with them. Dexter was more than a little dismayed to see how excited Bekka was getting as he explained things. While not a wizard herself, she was a sorceress, and magical mysteries such as this interested her keenly.
He replaced her on the helm, anxious to give a simple direction for his thoughts, and let her explore the deck and learn what she could on her own about Keshira.
* * * *
They were less than a day out from Port Freedom and still Dexter found Jenna unwilling to converse with him or, if she could manage it, even willing to spend time in the same part of the ship with him.
Keshira had come to him the first night and inquired how she might service him. Shocked and dismayed, and a little bit disturbed at the improper thoughts he had, he had sent her away to continue her work. He first had learned that she required no sleep, but she could do so if commanded to.
Now, with only hours remaining until they returned her, Dexter found himself curious about her. More than that, she had begun to become a natural part of his crew, interacting with them when they spoke with her. That she could handle the duties she had learned from Rosh was beyond question. While still bland, she did seem to have a hint of a personality about her. Dexter found himself wondering what more might lay hidden beneath her beautiful exterior.
Bekka had become fascinated with her, perhaps even more so than Rosh. She studied her and chatted with her whenever possible, trying to learn everything she could of her. As Dexter stood on the bow of the ship Bekka was busy talking to her as she worked, in fact. Bekka did most of the talking, but Keshira responded to any questions asked, though she had yet to ask a question of her own.
“Keshira, come up here please,” Dexter called out to her. She rose from where she had been kneeling on the deck scrubbing and sanding the planks to keep them smooth. Bekka looked at Dexter and smiled, then wandered towards the stern where Rosh was working on something.
“Yes Master?” Keshira said when she had climbed the stairs and stood before him.
“Captain… call me Captain, not master,” Dexter insisted.
“Yes Captain,” Keshira said, smiling brilliantly.
Dexter looked at her, studying her face and eyes. She seemed so alive, so real. He could not imagine her as artificial. “Tell me about yourself,” he asked her, hoping to find something more to support his line of thinking.
She looked at him blankly, not understanding the question. “I am your servant, Captain. Command me and I will obey. I will do anything you desire.”
Dexter sighed; this was not going well. “No, that’s not what I desire. I want you to tell me about yourself. Where were you born…er, created. When? How? Have you any friends or family…or, um, others like you? Anyone you’re close with?”
“I knew nothing until I awoke and saw you. That was all that was needed to form my bond. I do know how to do many things, all of them designed to make your life easier and more pleasurable,” she said. “Some things I require your permission to use.”
“What? What things?” Dexter asked, surprised.
“I am unable to use my powers until you approve their use,” she said.
“Powers? Like what?” Dexter had a feeling he had just unraveled more of Jarnella’s allure.
“Minor glamours and cantrips.”
Dexter found himself rubbing his chin thoughtfully, then realized that he was starting to act like Kragor. He shook his head and dropped his hand. “Show me an example, please.”
Keshira beamed, pleased to finally be given an order to complete by him. It looked as though a gust of wind blew over her face, for her hair bounced and flowed, swayed by unseen and unfelt currents. Dexter gasped when he realized that she suddenly looked even more alluring and sexy than she had when she had first come out of the crate.
He nodded, feeling he had put the final nail in the coffin to explaining how Jarnella had been so wonderfully arousing. This woman, or thing, in front of him was very much the same. The difference being that she insisted that she belonged to him.
“What sort of loyalty do you feel you owe me?” Dexter asked, wondering just how dangerous she and others like her truly were.
“I do not understand, Captain. I am your servant. Anything you bid me do I will do.”
“Anything?” Dexter asked, rhetorically.
“Yes, what would you like of me, Captain?” She said, not understanding that his question was for his own benefit.
“No, I mean… well, I don’t know what I mean,” Dexter said, then stared up at the stars passing slowly over the ships deck. “Keshira, you are a beautiful…thing. I want to call you a woman but I cannot if it is true that you are not human or even alive. Do you need to eat or drink or breathe?”
“Yes, Captain, I must do all of those things,” she responded. “My body is resilient but it can be damaged and it will heal. It is alive, Captain, so I do not understand why you say that I am not. Touch me, Sir, and you will find that I am warm and very much alive.”
Dexter was tempted to touch her, but he just smiled regretfully instead. “Thank you, Keshira, but I will never take something not freely given.”
“I do not understand, Captain. I am yours. I give myself to you at any and all times in any way that you would have me.”
Dexter cursed. “That’s not what I mean. Aye, you’re alive, but you’ve no soul, no spirit, you said yourself you exist to serve me. That’s not giving, lass, that’s taking.”
“I do not understand,” she said, standing tall and beautiful on the deck in front of him and looking serenely at him.
Dexter nodded sadly. “I know, that’s the problem. All I’m wanting of you is that you know who you are and why you want what you do. I want you to have your own wants, your own desires, your own goals.” He sighed and looked at her. “I’m wanting you to be your own person, owned not by me nor any other man nor woman.”
Dexter was amazed when he saw a sad expression cross Keshira’s face. “I… I am sorry, Captain. I cannot do that. You are my Master, it can only be undone if I cease to exist.”
Dexter was sorely tempted to take the girl in his arms, but he refrained, knowing it would do neither of them any good. “Is your sadness real, or just how you’ve been made to feel?”
“I do not understand, Captain.”
Dexter sighed and waved his hand dismissively. “No matter,” he said. In truth it was, but then again, could he say that his emotions were any less real because he, too, had been made to feel them simply by being human.
“It may be no concern to you, Keshira, but I promise you that I’ll do what I can to see you set free to live a full life. The wizard that made you will answer to me or I’ll die trying.”
Keshira smiled. “Captain, I do not understand why you would do such a thing, I belong to you.”
Dexter chuckled. “That’s okay, Keshira, I’m for hoping that one day you’ll know.”
“If that pleases you, I shall try to understand, Captain,” she said, bowing obediently to him.
“Go ahead back to work,” Dexter said, dismissing her. Smiling happily at having a task from him, she returned to her place working on the decking.
Dexter watched her work for a while, thinking about her plight, or his plight, as he considered it, and wondered what Port Freedom would bring. He turned back around in time to feel the ship decelerating out of cruising speed. There, ahead some distance, loomed the moon sized planetoid that Port Freedom called home. Dexter took a deep breath and headed to his cabin to ready himself for what was sure to be an eventful confrontation.
Kragor and Jodyne stayed at the ship, keeping it ready to go just in case a hasty departure was necessary. All manner of ideas passed through Dexter’s mind, but he really had no plan for how it was going to work out.
Keshira trailed along behind him and Rosh walked beside her armed for war with multiple weapons and even a chain shirt over his leather sleeves and leggings. Bekka trailed behind them, watching everything with a keen eye.
Jenna was along for the walk as well, making it officially the most time she had spent with Dexter since Keshira had joined them. She took up the rear guard of their small procession, also wearing her full battle garb.
“This could sour fast,” Dexter said after he came to a stop a block away from the wizard’s large house. “Anyone that’s not for wanting the risk can go back to the ‘Hawk right now.”
Nobody spoke up or moved to leave, filling Dexter with a sense of pride at his crew. “Alright, Kragor gets the ‘Hawk if I go down, so treat him right.”
A few of them shuffled uneasily. They were not bothered by the thought of answering to the dwarf as Captain, but rather the thought of surviving an encounter that he fell in sat poorly with them.
Dexter turned and resumed his march, with the rest of them falling in behind him.
They were greeted at the door by Jarnella. She beamed at Dexter happily, then saw Keshira standing behind him and her expression darkened somewhat. “My Master will be displeased to see her return,” she said.
“About that,” Dexter said. “It was unavoidable. I’d like for him to break the bond she made so we can done with this.”
“There is no breaking the bond. She is made to be a servant for life,” Jarnella explained, turning and beckoning them inside the house.
They followed her in, each looking about nervously in case of a trap. Only Keshira seemed at ease as they moved through a foyer, then down a hallway and through a sitting room. Jarnella opened the doors to a large study, where Ormitor sat waiting in a plush chair.
“Have you any idea what you have done?” he asked, his tone one of irritation.
“I know only that I damn near lost my ship, my crew, and my freedom carrying your ‘product’.” As soon as the words left his mouth he realized he may have been a bit too aggressive.
“I want no part of your gold or business,” he continued, softening his tone slightly. “Undo this bond she speaks of and free her, then we may go our separate ways.”
Ormitor rose up and walked over to them. He looked at Keshira with a critical eye, noting everything from her posture, her look, and the same blue dress she had risen from the crate in. “The manufacturing and ensorceling of a pleasure golem is no simple task. The materials alone are far beyond your ability to comprehend!”
“Good thing I’m not for wanting her then,” Dexter said. “Undo this thing and we’ll be done with it.”
“There is no undoing it, you fool!” Ormitor snapped. “And now you’ve defaulted my agreement with Sir Drayful as well! You’ve no idea how much you have cost me!”
Dexter took a deep breath as Ormitor vented at him. He could practically feel Rosh tensing and fighting the urge to explode behind him. It only made him wonder how Jenna, who seemed especially incensed at the ‘pleasure golems’, was handling herself.
“No undoing it? Then what does she cost. I’ve no want of a slave, but I’ll accept the cost of ruining her for you,” he said, trying to mollify the wizard.
Ormitor laughed. “You fool, the cost is more than you will ever see in your life! She is worth hundreds of thousands of gold!”
Dexter cringed at the mere thought of that much money. While he hoped it would be otherwise, he could only silently agree with Ormitor that he would most likely never see that much wealth in his life.
“Why is she different from Jarnella,” Bekka asked abruptly, stepping out and throwing back the hood of her cloak.
Ormitor looked at her briefly, then dismissed her, turning his angry gaze back to Dexter. He opened his mouth buy again Bekka persisted.
“She is a brilliant creation, truly a work of art,” she said, praising her inventor. “Yet she does not have the personality that Jarnella does. Is each one designed for the owner?”
Pleased at having his work acknowledged and appreciated, Ormitor was taken aback. Grudgingly, he deigned to answer her question. “Each is unique, yes, tailored to the requirements of the purchaser. They learn quickly, Jarnella was not my first but she is my favorite. The personality of which you speak surfaces differently for each. Some are slow, some are fast. It has something to do with the strength of the soul used to animate them.”
“The soul used to… What type of monster are you?” Jenna asked, stepping out as well.
Dexter held out his hand, attempting to stall her and hold her back. Barely, she reigned in her anger and remained behind him.
“Monster? Hardly. I take a broken soul, shorn from its body and life, and give it a fresh chance at happiness in a new form. A form that is well nigh indestructible! These are not monstrosities, these are pieces of art!” Spittle flew from Ormitor’s mouth as he raved about his creations.
“These creations, they are bound to their owners forever? How do they survive when their owners die?” Bekka asked, desperately wanting to understand more of the mechanics behind the magic.
“Some persist, miserable and lonely,” he said, still proud of his creations, or rather, proud of his abilities in creating them. “A rare few find meaning to their existence, though they forever feel the longing for their master. Others perish, seeking out a means to their own destruction to end their misery.”
“So Keshira is stuck with me forever?” Dexter asked, feeling the room suddenly growing smaller around him.
“I trust you have no means of paying for her?”
Dexter shook his head and angrily said. “No means and no interest in purchasing such a thing!”
“I would have offered you a contract of service to pay off your debt, but I think you would find no appeal to that either?” Ormitor asked, walking a short distance away from them and putting Jarnella between them.
Dexter shook his head again. He heard Rosh inhale behind him and saw the man open his mouth to say something. The look Dexter gave him made the larger man close his mouth.
“Then I’m afraid her suffering will be short lived, for with your death I will have her destroyed as well,” he said matter-of-factly. “Your ship will be put to good use and repay some of your debt, I think. The rest I will accept in the service of your souls in my future creations!”
“Well now that just won’t do,” Dexter said, hearing the blades of his crew being drawn behind him.
Rosh charged forward, ignoring the unarmed Jarnella to his error. She lashed out at him, her arm crashing into his chest below the arms that brandished his great sword. Rosh flew backwards, his feet moving forward while his upper body was driven to the ground.
Jenna slipped past Jarnella, moving with a grace and speed that she had not displayed even when fighting Dexter in mock battles. She lunged forward with her rapier holding her short sword up in a guard position. Jenna grunted when the sword hit the wizard, for it barely plunged into his skin. She felt as though she had stabbed a tree trunk.
From behind her Jarnella landed a glancing blow to her shoulder with her fist, sending her stumbling to the side and making her trip over a plush chair.
Dexter intended to give Jarnella a fight, as she was closer, but he suspected that Ormitor was the key to success in the conflict. He slipped behind the beautiful construct’s back as she sent Jenna sprawling. He nearly abandoned his target to go after Jenna, but knew better than to lose what may end up being their only chance.
Ormitor was incanting a spell, his eyes rolled back in his head as he drew on magics powerful enough to cause the hair on Dexter’s skin to raise due to his proximity. Dexter swung his long sword as hard as he could; having seen how Jenna’s thrust had been thwarted, and was rewarded with three of Ormitor’s fingers falling to the ground, as well as half of his left hand. For Dexter’s part, his arm tingled with the vibrations running through it from the resistance to the strike.
Ormitor’s arcane uttering twisted into a howl of rage. His eyes focused on Dexter and the building magical energies surrounding him flared into electrical arcs the ran across his body and dissipated into the ground at his feet, though not without leaving him smoking and scorched from their passing.
It was Dexter’s turn to go crashing into a table, propelled there by a blow from behind that snapped his head back and made the air explode from his lungs. He lay stunned on the floor, blood running down his face from where his forehead had crashed into the solid wooden table.
Through blurred vision, he saw Jarnella moving towards him, her expression deadly serious. Dexter tried to move but found he had trouble focusing, he just knew that death stalked him in the form of a beautiful woman. Behind Jarnella Keshira sprung into action, rushing towards Jarnella and crashing into her.
Bekka, even further back, had rushed over to Rosh and was checking him to see how he faired. He was sitting back up and shaking his head, then spitting out something that had more than a hint of red to it.
Dexter turned his head, still wondering why everyone looked as fuzzy as they did, and beheld Jenna’s short sword slicing across Ormitor’s side. Instead of entrails and blood, only a tatter of cloth from his expensive clothing fell to the floor. She ducked under a swing from the arm that wielded the partially severed hand and tried stabbing into his leg, which proved to also be all but futile.
Dexter rose woodenly from the floor, feeling his sense of balance skewed and his body unnaturally limber. There was no pain in his back or neck, though he suspected there should be. Even more interesting was how muffled the noises sounded, from grunts of exertion and pain to the crashing of the two pleasure golems wrestling on the floor.
Rosh climbed to his feet and grimaced in pain. He shook it off and advanced on Ormitor, who saw him coming in spite of trying to squash Jenna like a bug. He accepted a hit from Jenna and stretched out his left hand, which possessed the shortened first three fingers. He spat out a sharp stream of words and a dark beam of magical energy that Rosh caught on the tip of his sword.
He held the blade up defensively, hoping to block the nefarious looking energy that swarmed up it. The blade grew heavier as he held it, making him curse and begin to lose the fight against holding it up. With a grunt of final exertion, he threw the sword to the side and dove to the other side.
Dexter swung his sword from behind at Ormitor, hacking against the wizard’s leg in an attempt to hamstring him. His sword felt as though it tried to chew through a bale of tightly packed hay, so little damage did he do. Ormitor turn and swung his arm, sending the captain of the Voidhawk reeling backwards to avoid the dangerous blow.
Jenna distracted him again, digging a furrow along his neck with her rapier that should have thrust a gaping hole clean through him. They could see some blood in the scratch, but it did not run as experience told them all it should. He turned back to her, whipping his arm across and capturing her rapier in it before she could recover it from the thrust. His incredible strength sent the weapon clattering to the rug covered hardwood floor, knocking her off balance.
Jenna thrust her short sword up into Ormitor’s ribs, a killing blow for any mortal. The sword was halted by whatever wizardry he had ensorcelled his flesh with. His hand, partially severed though it was, used the still attached first and second finger to grab her by the tunic, easily lifting her light elven frame from the floor and causing her to drop her short sword from the abruptness of the movement.
Dexter tried to attack, but Ormitor spun rapidly, keeping his struggling hostage between them. “You fools, you cannot kill me! My body is stronger even than my those of my children! Your souls will yet be mine!”
Dexter was in no mood to talk. Even the very air in the room smelled funny to him and colored spots came and went in his vision. Nevertheless, he continued to threaten the wizard, looking for an opening and, if nothing else, keeping the wizard busy.
Rosh crawled behind the wizard, pulling a hand axe free from his belt. He raised it back, struggling to make certain that he kept his grip on the slightly oversized hatchet. Ormitor grunted as Rosh’s sharpened axe blade drove him into his ankle. The strength the man was able to employ broke the skin, severed muscle and tendon, and even managed to shatter the bone.
His support structure ruined, Ormitor dropped forward to one knee. Jenna gasped as he managed to maintain his hold on her leather cuirass, jerking her ruthlessly as he nearly fell to the floor.
He spun around enough to backhand Rosh across the face. The lack of proper leverage and support caused the blow to do little more than force the large man to roll twice away from him and then lay stunned.
Bekka stood nearby, out of the range of the dangerous combat but ready to offer what help she could. She darted over to where Rosh’s axe lay unclaimed on the floor several feet from him. She picked it up and advanced, her center of balance low and her body poised to dodge.
“You’d have made good slaves,” Ormitor spat out at Dexter while he also kept an eye on Bekka as she approached. “But now I’m going to kill you all slowly, and then the real torture will begin!”
He held up his stubby fingered hand and opened his mouth to begin a new spell. Jenna drew a dagger from her thigh and rammed it upwards, though not into the wizard’s unnatural body. Instead she used it to slice through her armor, cutting through it and forcing the wizard to drop her as she rotated and plummeted in an uncontrolled plunge to the floor. She gasped when she hit and rolled away, her cuirass falling free.
Suddenly given an angle of attack, Dexter drew his pistol and fired in a single smooth motion. Ormitor’s head snapped back from the thunderous lead ball that smashed into his cheek. Bekka jump in to attack as well, hacking with Rosh’s axe at his shoulder, which struck true but did little damage.
He lashed out at her; a glancing blow sending her staggering. Rosh rose up and saw her trip over a chair broken by the thrashing constructs. He rose up, blood dripping from his nose and mouth, and grabbed Ormitor from behind. Before the wizard could use leverage and his unnatural strength to turn on him, he heaved and lifted the wizard above his head, one hand upon the back of his neck and the other at his groin.
Almost immediately Ormitor began to chant words to a new spell, something Rosh took particular offense at, having already been victim to one of his incantations. He threw the wizard down towards the ground, dropping as he did so and raising his knee in a maneuver impossible to escape without a shattered spine.
Indeed the sound of the impact sent splinters of ice down Dexter’s spine. However, it was Rosh that turned white at the impact, his mouth open but no sound escaping. Ormitor rolled free, flopping on the ground and his arms thrashing as he tried to pull himself around. Rosh collapsed as well, his hands going to his lower leg where the jagged edge of a bone protruded through the skin.
Dexter turned, his vision clearing to the point where things were seldom blurry. His thinking came clearer as well, and he realized that short of possessing incredible strength or magic, they would be unable to stop Ormitor. His concern increased exponentially when he noticed the wizard’s partially severed hand was no longer anywhere near as dismembered as it had been earlier.
Dexter yanked off the powder sack at his waist, snapping the ties that bound it to his belt. He cut it against his blade and threw it at the struggling supine wizard, then turned and snatched up an oil lamp from a table. Spinning again, he lost his balance and stumbled into the same table he had fallen into earlier. He bounced off of it and threw the lamp, sending it crashing onto the floor beside Ormitor.
The glass shattered, spreading oil on the rug and the wizard both. The flame within the wick spread onto the oil, greedily licking at it and spreading.
“You can’t kill me!” Ormitor howled, turning his head to stare hatefully at Dexter. “I’ll come for you and destroy you all!”
Dexter, Jenna, and Bekka were driven to the ground by the blast of the fire powder. The concussion swept over Rosh as well, who was struggling to rise, and delivered him into unconsciousness. Jenna alone kept her wits about her, though it was many long moments before she found herself able to remember what she was doing and who the people laying on the burning floor were.
The smoke was gathering rapidly in the room. She grabbed Dexter by his shirt and dragged him to the door they had entered, then looked up as a large form emerged out of the smoke and grabbed onto Dexter as well.
“I must save my Captain,” Keshira said, her robe in tatters that lacked any sense of modesty. Her skin was likewise scratched and torn, but she did not bleed freely from any of her injuries.
“Fine, save him,” Jenna snapped, too exhausted to argue. “Get him back to the ‘Hawk!”
“What about the others?” Keshira asked, looking to her for direction.
“I’ll get them, they… wait, why do you care?” Jenna asked, confused. She coughed as she breathed in a particularly smoke filled lungful of air.
Keshira looked at her strangely, “My Captain has feelings for you, my bond tells me as much.”
Jenna’s mouth opened and closed, then she shook her head, a tear running from her eye. She pointed to the way out. “Take him and go! Help me get them if you can, if not, save him!”
Keshira nodded and was gone, hauling Dexter gently and with incredible speed. Jenna hurried back in, laying her hands on Rosh and struggling to drag the huge man away. Finding him too heavy in his armor to move quickly, she grabbed Bekka instead and pulled the half-elf clear.
Jenna’s lungs burned for fresh air. Her vision was dark with lack of oxygen and she could hear her heart hammering in her ears. She gasped in air from outside, although it, too, was tainted with smoke it tasted as sweet as honeyed water. People were gathering to watch the fire, and a few ran to help her. She waved them off and ran back in.
The smoke was thicker, foiling even her elven vision. She stumbled several times, running into objects in the house. Her lungs ached for air, but she dared not breathe. Finally, having found the study again, she dropped to her hands and knees and dared a quick gasp. The smell of burning flesh, wood, and cloth was overpowering, and sent her into a coughing fit. She knew she had to leave, but she caught site of Rosh again from her improved vantage point. She moved towards him, fighting the burning agony within her body.
Her hands upon the warrior, she managed to pull him a few paces towards the door, then blinked in surprise when she found herself sitting on the floor beside him. She tried to get up but instead ended up staring at him sideways. She wondered how she had ended up laying down on the floor. Her hand once again found his chain shirt but she had no strength left. Her head dipped against the floor, knowing she needed just to rest a moment and take a few breaths; surely she could do that much before trying again?
Jenna fell into the blackness as the smoke overwhelmed her. Her last recognition was that of the smoke swirling above her and how it resembled the shape of a human.