Page 26 of Captive of the Pirate King
The next morning, Captain Neelan announces a trip to the island that has the hot springs. “Everyone will go, from first mate to captives to cabin boys. It’s not so bad being a pirate, is it, lads? Hot water, grog, feasting, and eager lovers!”
Cauley and the other merchant sailors reply, “Not bad at all, Captain,” and honestly I think they mean it.
Since we were taken aboard theArdent,we’ve had good food and honest work, and we’ve not been cruelly treated beyond the occasional verbal lashing and the incident of Locke’s whipping. And now we’re enjoying a respite on these beautiful islands.
Now that they’ve tasted the delights of the Wierling Isles, I’m not sure the former crew of theWending Willowwould try to escape, even if the risk were lower. Maybe that’s part of Neelan’s strategy, to earn their loyalty by showing them the better side of this lifestyle.
But it can’t be all rum and hot springs. Eventually, theArdentwill attack another ship, and more people will die.
Locke and I aren’t in the same boat during the crossing to the next island. Strange how I’m always tracking his whereabouts and keeping an eye on him, as if he’s the North Star to my inner compass.
I’ve never seen anything so beautiful as the island on which we disembark. Its sands are whiter and softer, and its waters seem bluer, if that’s possible. Lush foliage lines the beaches, yielding to cool forests threaded with paths of pale crushed shells. It’s clear that the islanders tend this place with love.
Delicate vines twist through the trees overhead, and the undergrowth is fragrant with bright blooms. There’s a humid, heavy decadence to the air, a lush allure that calls to every pore of my skin, every cell in my body. The call of the springs, the idea of sinking into clean hot water—it’s too much to resist. I don’t know how I’ll be able to enjoy the water without exposing myself, but I’m hoping there will be some private nook where I can bathe.
Or maybe I’ll throw caution to the wind and strip in front of them all. A few seconds of heated bliss might be worth it, before I’m dragged out again and hauled in front of the Captain so he can decide what to do with me. He might kill me. Or he might allow his men to do as they like with me.
He might let me stay on the islands, unmolested. I would have to wait for another ship, if any would even take me aboard. I have no money to pay for passage.
An idea flashes into my mind—a very dangerous idea.
I could steal a bit of treasure from the hold and hide it somewhere on the main island. It could serve as my passage money, securing a berth for me on another ship.
But the Captain has made it clear that theft isn’t tolerated aboard theArdent. He was going to let me off with a whipping because I only took one set of clothes, but if I try to steal treasure, and I get caught, he’ll probably kill me.
I shake off the dark thoughts as the pirates and islanders around me surge forward eagerly, their voices quickening with anticipation. Up ahead the path widens, opening onto a bank of flowering plants and smooth rocks. Steam curls from the surface of three large pools. Behind the pools, rocky cliffs rise, their surfaces garnished with dripping greenery and florals. Sunlight winks bright on streams of water that emerge from the cliffs and trickle into the pools below.
The hot springs are a warm, fragrant, sunlit paradise. But I can’t participate without revealing myself, so when everyone charges for the water, shedding clothes along the way, I slink into the undergrowth and circle the clearing. I plunge into the forest, following a little rivulet of the water that trails away from one of the pools.
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I’m in luck, because the tiny stream I’m following pours over a lip of rock and empties into another pool, much smaller than the three I left behind. The water is clear and golden where threads of sunlight pierce it, but the pebbled bottom is shadowed and distorted, so it’s hard to tell how deep it really is.
All around this little pool, the forest foliage clusters, rich and green and deep. Tropical fronds arch over the steaming surface, and petals drift from lacy flowering trees above, floating through the shimmering air.
I take off my boots and dip in a toe. The water is so hot it stings—a wonderful, blessed kind of sting. I ache to submerge myself in it. The desire is so strong that I almost don’t care if I get caught.
Quickly I take off my shirt, knotting my family ring into one of my shirtsleeves. Then I unwrap the binding from my breasts, hissing through my teeth as sharp pain shoots through the compacted flesh. I have to take a minute to breathe through it, waiting until the agony subsides to a manageable soreness. Then I strip off the rest of my clothes.
Naked, I ease myself into the water, trembling and moaning softly at the delicious heat. My weary muscles scream with anguished delight as I sink deeper. I swear my very bones are singing.
My toes skim the bottom. The water is up to my shoulders—the perfect depth. With a whimper of joy, I close my eyes and surrender.
“You’re being incredibly foolish,” says a much-too familiar voice from the bank.
My eyes fly open.
Locke stands at the edge of the pool, his eyepatch flipped up and his pale, intense gaze locked with mine.
I clap my hand over my mouth, stifling a scream. My other arm clamps over my breasts.
“Locke!” I gasp. “I—what are you—don’t look at me!"
“Oh gods,” he drawls with exaggerated surprise, looking away into the trees. “You’re a woman. How shocking. How will I ever survive the shame of being so thoroughly convinced and so completely fooled?”
My mind turns blazing white with shock. “You—you knew?”
“I’ve known since we swung across the sea from your ship to mine. Well, I suspected it then. And I was fairly sure of it when I picked you up to toss you overboard. But what really clinched it for me was seeing that pretty little bare foot of yours.”
