Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (54 page)

said. “Nay,” Pete said. “Can’tTrust’Em. WeCanGoTaCowIslandAn’FindTheFrench.
OrSomeOtherShipWeCanHire.”

I wondered when he had concocted that plan. It sounded reasonable, and there was a good chance the French would arrive there if Morgan was collecting men to raid again this winter.

“Is Morgan raiding this year?” I asked. “Did he raid last

 

year?”“AyeAn’Nay,”
_{Pete said.}

 

“FromWhatWe’EardInTheTaverns. An’EvenIf’EAin’t, ThereAlwaysBeShipsThere.”

“I don’t trust Morgan even if the French are there,” Cudro said. “This little boat might make the Carolinas. Of course, we’llhave to stay very close to shore and sneak past the Spanishport at Saint Augustine.”

I did not care. I wanted them to sail wherever until Gastonhealed or…
But my decision was apparently required as they were evenly divided. Pete appeared obdurate. Cudro looked as if he would become equally stubborn very soon. Chris would wish to go to Cow Island and not a colonywhere we might be rid ofher. Ashwould likelyside withhis matelot.
I was not sure where to go. My only concern was Gaston. Which direction would be best for him in his current state? There might be physicians in the colonies; and they might be fools. My father could have men watching for us there. Yet, Morgan would surely not be happy to see us unless the French arrived. And we could not know if we could trust the buccaneers. There might be a price upon our heads. And ifthere were French buccaneers, it was possible that would make things worse. And we were only six, and… Gaston was in no shape to evenbe counted.
Gastonmight die.
“Will?”Cudro queried.
My questions poured forth in a shaky and desperate string. “How long to sailto either? What provisions do we have? Which course is more dangerous? Where might they look for us?”
Gaston’s hand tightened on mine. I pulled my gaze from the pityingfaces ofmyfriends and looked downat him.
“Île de la Vache,”he whispered witha grimsmile.
“Why?”I asked.
“I would rather be sick there. I know there.”
He did not say it; and I truly could not say I saw it in his eyes; but I surely heard it in my heart:
he would rather be buried there
.
“Cow Island,”I said loudlyto the sea. “Please.”
All were silent for a time. I kept my eyes on the distant waves.

“SettledThen,” Pete said at last.

“SettledThen,” Pete said at last. “WeCanDrop’ErOnTortuga.”
“Nay,” Cudro said with authority, and I looked to him with surprise. “I’ll not risk sailing this little thing past Cayonne— or even the damn north side of the island—or through the channel near Petit-Goave beyond it. The girl goes with us. We’ll go east and south around Hispaniola. These days we’ll have less to fear fromthe Spanish than the French.” He looked to me and added gently. “It will take about the same amount of time either

way.” I nodded.

“ThenWhatAbout’Er?” Pete asked with stubborn grumpiness.
“She better be a boy when we get there,” Cudro rumbled.
Now that we would sail somewhere, I cared not for that detail or any other. I lie beside Gaston and kissed his heated cheek.
“Theyare safe, oui?”he breathed.
“Oui,” I assured him and wondered if they were. I supposed it would be a longtime before we would know.
“Today is your birthday,” he said. “I had a surprise for

you.” I stared at him with wonder. It was the fifteenth. “I will

 

be happywithyouliving.”

He chuckled, and his eyes opened to find mine. “Now you know how I always feel—when
you
are ailing and wounded.”

I gave a heavy sigh and thought on all the times he must

I gave a heavy sigh and thought on all the times he must have prayed as I was now. “I suppose you will have to recover and ail or be wounded several more times before I can truly understand how youmust feelwhenI amso.”

He smiled. “I have survived worse, Will.”
“But youcould stilldie,”I breathed.
He nodded solemnly.
My heart ached and any stupid platitude I might utter

seemed stuck in my throat. Aye, I did not know how I would live without him. Aye, I knew he would always love me, and I him, no matter what occurred.

I coughed and asked, “So what was mygift?”

He grinned. “You brought my medicalbag. There should be a smallpouchinit—black velvet.”
With mounting curiosity, I sat and rummaged through his medical bag until I found the little sack. It was velvet, and it produced two gold rings. They were both engraved with
endure and conquer
. I slipped one on his ring finger and the other on mine withtremblinghands, and thenI buried myface inhis chest, cried, and whispered, “Please, dear Gods, please.”

One Hundred and Two Wherein We Wrestle With Sex

He fevered for over a week. On the second day we understood it was not due to the wound alone when he began to cough phlegm. Some nights he became so chilled it took Pete and I pressed about him and a stick in his mouth to keep him from chattering his tongue to ribbons. On other days I kept him covered in freshly doused cloth to keep himcool. By the second week the fever abated, but he still coughed a great deal and found himself short of breath when we went ashore. I did everything I could for him and thanked the Gods for every day

he lived.We were making slow work ofrounding Hispaniola, and

not merely because of Gaston. We saw no reason to hurry, and we wished to avoid anyone who might inhabit or sail about the eastern end ofthe island. And, though they had apparently stolen some victuals from the plantation where they acquired the boat, we were not well provisioned for sailing the month that Cudro said taking this route would probably require in such a small craft. We slipped ashore for water and fruit as we saw opportunities for such, and began to watch the shore keenly for cattle or hogs. As we were in wholly Spanish territory now, we might as wellhave been roving even though we had no interest in

takinganythingbyforce.

 

takinganythingbyforce.

As Gaston’s health improved, I happily settled into sailing and living off the land. The cares of two weeks before seemed a thousand miles away, and my Horse was happy to ignore them. I did not know where my Wolf had gone, but I found it difficult to remember the feel of Himin my heart. I deftly sidestepped thinking of the cloud of doom my Man knew hung allabout us.

All seemed well with our companions, too. Pete seemed pleased to be at sea, even without Striker. I occasionally saw himbrooding, but his mood never seemed to stay long. Ash and Cudro thankfully began to teach Chris aspects of the buccaneer life:everything fromhow to select good fruit and find clean water to the basics of sailing. Chris appeared quite happy and took to everything she was taught with great seriousness and surprisingly little complaint.

When I could spare attention to her, I became a little concerned about the real matter of presenting her as a young man to a bunch of uncouth buccaneers. She was far too shy about her bodily functions for even a noble youth her supposed age. We needed to fashion the funneling device Gaston had suggested and teach her to piss while standing. She needed to learn to squat over the gunwale and shit. And then I was sure there would be the matter of her female monthly inconvenience —which had apparently not occurred since we sailed. I did not know how she could ever truly rove; but as that was not our intent, I did not think it a matter of great concern. And Pete was already haranguing her about anything she did or said that might

be deemed effeminate; such that I thought my comments would

 

be deemed effeminate; such that I thought my comments would be unwelcome at this earlyjuncture ofour voyage.

On the fifteenth day we finally beheld the amazing and welcome sight of hogs feeding atop a hill near the narrow beach. We quickly slipped ashore and Cudro and Pete went to scout the area and see ifthere was a swineherd present, or worse. The rest ofus waited anxiouslyuntilwe heard a pair ofshots and saw one of the hearty beasts sag to the ground. Pete returned and reported there was no sign of men in the vicinity, and—leaving Gaston with the boat—Ash, Chris, and I followed him to the downed animal. Cudro instructed Chris on the gutting and butchering of the carcass—a task I was truly surprised she agreed to—and Pete and I set about draggingwood downto the rocky beach to make a fire while Ash and Gaston kept watch. My stomach was soon rumbling at the delicious aroma of roasting chunks ofpork while Cudro taught Chris to salt some of the meat for later and lectured her on the making of boucan: a thing we did not wish to risk doing on this voyage as it would mean smoke froma large fire signaling our existence for leagues ineverydirection.

Feeling the nakedness of being six people alone in a hostile land, we retreated to the sea once the meat was sufficiently cooked. The roast seemed a feast for a king and we gorged ourselves with glee and shared the one bottle of Madeira they had found with our vessel. We sailed down the coast until we found anchorage in a shallow cove of sorts behind a sandbar as the sun began to set. We felt safe, drunk, and sated: life seemed verygood indeed.

Gaston was doing well, and the meat and Madeira

Gaston was doing well, and the meat and Madeira seemed a fine tonic for him; though he only partook of small amounts of either. He wrapped himself around my back as I finished eating, and warned me not to bite him when he presented his fingers for me to lick clean. I was happy to oblige and present my digits in return. We took turns lapping and suckingwithteasingamusement.

I had not seen him playful since before his wound and illness, obviously; and further still… since our aborted attempt at play the day Chris arrived. That had not been satisfying to say the least. And before that… I was aghast to realize we had allowed severallust-free days to pass bymyreckoning.

My cock informed me it had indeed been a good three weeks since last I served anypurpose inits estimation.
My matelot’s attention had wandered from my mouth, and his hands were now under my tunic making it difficult for me to think of much beyond my nipples and his fingers whilst his tongue teased myear.
“Do you truly feel ready for such activity?” I whispered when my cock told me quite firmly the teasing of my nipples was a fine thingbut it wanted muchmore.
Gaston’s eyes glowed withthe last rays ofthe settingsun and I could feel his smile in his voice. “Non, I do not feel I am readyto exert myself. Youmust do allthe work.”
“Wellthen, my love, lie back and allow me to spit myself onyour member for a slow roasting,”I rumbled withamusement.
“Non, non,” he chided playfully. “You misunderstand me. Youmust do
all
the work.”
“Ahhh…” I breathed as my cock finished rising to a
“Ahhh…” I breathed as my cock finished rising to a near-painfuldegree ofturgidity. I turned and kissed himdeeply.
Night began to envelope us, and we were serenaded by the quiet lap of waves and the murmur of our companions’ conversation as we maneuvered so that he could lie on his side and I could mount him such that I could caress and kiss him. I wished for it to last; thus I stilled and held himafter I entered until the lovely initial waves of sensation abated somewhat. He pushed my hand away when I attempted to fondle his semiflaccid member.
“You,”he murmured. “I onlywishto feelyou.”
I complied, allowing us to feel one another in full measure with slow deep strokes. In time, we came to be panting shallowly with limbs twining, and I began to worry that he might be exerting himself too much. Then his hand pulled mine to his member and I found I would deny himnothing; even ifit did lead to his having a coughing fit or another bout of fever. Thankfully, he was not racked with coughs but with pleasure when he came a short time later: though, he did slump to lie beneath me with limp muscles save a smallsmile as I finished.
He was asleep before I completed cleaning myself and pulling our breeches back up. With a grin on my lips and my heart aching with love, and the sheer pleasure of being so loved, I curled around himand slept like a babe.
I woke to a quiet ship at sea, and opened myeyes to the troubling sight of all four of our companions staring with undue intensity at different points on the horizon. I soon surmised it was not because they thought to perceive anything in particular, but because theydid not wishto perceive one another—or me. because theydid not wishto perceive one another—or me.
“What have I missed?”I asked withsincere curiosity.
Pete snorted. “
Yur
NaMissin’AThing.”
I understood, and swore quietly. I was tempted to tell him that I was not the one who had struck my matelot and sent himoffto be withhis wife.
At the rudder, Cudro met my gaze readily enough, and his helpless shrug was eloquent, as was his glance at his matelot. Ash sat near his man’s feet and whittled intensely on a chunk of wood in no particular pattern. I could make no sense of his apparent unease, and so I turned my attention to Chris. She was flushing and still studying the horizon as if it held the answer to everyquestionever posed bySocrates.
I checked the wind and relieved myself. When I sat, I discovered my matelot was awake, and had apparently heard or witnessed some of what I had. He was looking past his feet downthe craft at our friends witha concerned frown.
I turned myattentionback to Cudro.
He met my gaze with a sigh and nodded thoughtfully before studying the clouds for a time. “There’s a woman aboard,” he finally said. “Women on ships are often found to be a troublingmatter for sailors.”
It was a thing I had oft heard, and I assumed it was because lonely men would be tempted to compete for the woman’s favor. I did not see how that might applyhere.
Cudro continued before I could find the proper words to phrase my question. “Those that take naturally to women find them troublesome. It reminds them of what they’re about.” He shrugged again.
Then I understood Cudro’s dilemma all too well: Ash favored women.
Ash swore and glared up at Cudro. “That is not the issue! She is a lady! That is the issue!”
While the other aspects of the matter might be Cudro’s problem, that particular aspect was one I felt I must address. “
He
is not a lady,” I said strongly. “
He
is Gaston’s cousin.
He
is a gentleman; but evenso, he is stilla man, and had best be taking a man’s delight in taking himself in hand when titillated by the antics ofothers—lest someone think he has no cock.”
Chris gave a shrill bark of surprise, and Pete guffawed with laughter. Cudro and Gaston were soon chuckling, but Ash flushed as red as Chris and stared at the floor.
“I realize men are crude and lustfulcreatures,” Chris said withpoorly-feigned nonchalance.
“My dear, you have no idea,” I said. “I am truly speaking in your interest when I say that if you do take a young lady’s issue with our antics, then you had best learn to hide it well. You will likely see much more and much cruder before this adventure is done. I daresay if Morgan is on Cow Island and they are gathering a fleet, we willnot be able to walk beyond the glow of a fire without tripping on some pair in rut. And you can thank the Gods you are not going roving. Imagine this deck packed with three times the number of men. There is not a time of night when someone is not finding pleasure once you pack four-score menona ship.”
She was regardingme withincredulity.
“I assure you, I do not jest, nor am I exaggerating. Ask Cudro,”I added.
She turned to himand he nodded witha smile.
“Usually,” he said with a telling glance at his still-flushing matelot, “one couple sees another at it and it gets them to thinkingofit and theytake up where the first finishes and so on.”
“Withno privacy?”Chris asked.
“None,”he assured her. “And no goingashore, either.”
“Aye,” I added. “You must learn to see to your bodily functions in the light and on the boat. It would be best if you learned it now, so that you do not raise questions once we reach our destination. We shall fashion some tool to enable you to piss standing.”
“Should I also pretend to learn to pleasure myself?” she asked huffily.
I chuckled. “Damn it,
boy
, you might as well do more thanpretend, and I prayfor your sake that youneed not learn.”
She flushed crimson again and returned to staring pointedlyout to sea.
“You cannot make her a man merely by saying so,”Ash said stubbornly.
“Nay,” I said, “but we can do all we can conceive to insure that a man who does not know she is a woman does not suspect it. What about her reminds you that she is a woman? Let us discover it and correct it. Is it her attire?”
She was dressed as he was, in tunic, breeches, and kerchief over roughly-shorn, short hair. Comparing the two of them, I rather thought I would know by the curve of her calf, her little feet, and fine, long-fingered hands. A buccaneer’s lack of clothinginthe tropics would make the matter ofdisguisingher far more difficult.
“I just know,”he said doggedly.
“Does she sound like a woman—her breathing perhaps? Or is it her smell?”I asked.
Pete moved closer to her across the small craft and sniffed withcuriosity. “Aye,”he grumbled. “SheNaSmellRight.”
“Aye, I do not
stink
,”she told him.
That was a problem. Clean or filthy, men truly do not smell like women, or vice versa. I wondered how we could make her smelllike a man.
I looked to Gaston. He shrugged helplessly.
“When you must hunt from upwind, it helps to cover yourself in your quarry’s smell,” Cudro said thoughtfully. “You can’t make yourself smell like them, but you can hide your own smellwiththeirs.”
“So we should rub a man all over her?” I asked with a laughinanticipationofher outrage.
She did not disappoint me. Her fury was an unseen thing that easily bridged the distance between us without her even turningher head to regard me.
And beyond figuratively feeling her annoyance, I definitelyfelt Gaston’s chidingslap onmyleg.
I sobered somewhat and honestly gave thought to other times when circumstances had dictated some ruse about another’s identity. “Nay, truly and seriously, we are her best protection. As long as we insist she is a he, others will not be as prone to question. Does that not also work in hunting?” I asked Cudro. “Ifone stands amongst tame cattle or sheep while hunting deer, the deer will not assume you are anything other than an