Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

The crew was excited for the competition, both the men and the women. Anyone could enter except the adjudicators: Callista, Mr Adebayo, Chen and Mick Harper.

There were four categories: pistols, knives, sabres and fists. Connor won two of the first three, going down to Njinga in the knife fight.

By this time, a significant number of the crew were betting heavily on whether Connor could pull off a third win or would go down in the fist fight. Since they had nothing to bet with but their grog and rations, some people were going to go hungry and thirsty tonight.

A fist fight was always a popular competition as the majority of the men backed themselves to win in a scrap. Even McTavish joined in and of course Furness. Coats declined, begging off on the grounds of age. He was, after Mick, the oldest man in the crew.

Connor was paired with McTavish in the first round, as he was the only man almost as tall as the Scots boulder, but not as broad or heavy. McTavish looked like a sure winner, but Connor knew how to deal with big men, they were invariably slower and found it hard to manoeuvre in tight spaces. They relied on brute strength, which Blockheid clearly had. It was also like hitting a brick wall. The man wouldn’t go down, no matter how many blows Connor aimed at him. Connor’s knuckles were getting bruised, and he was tiring, so St Giles tactics were required.

Connor danced away enticing the bull of a man to come after him, and then he neatly stuck out his foot, tripping McTavish. Once off balance, he went down like a sack of potatoes and Connor was able to deliver the coup de grace, a blow to the noggin that snapped McTavish’s head back on the deck and made his eyes roll back in his head. He was pronounced out cold by Chen and Connor the winner of his bout.

Connor took a towel to mop up his sweaty head and chest, he’d long since abandoned his shirt, and took some sips of water. Then he waited to see who he would be matched with next. It proved to be Isiah, a long lanky man. Connor finished him in two quick blows. Next came Petey who took a blow to the chin and went down in a crumpled heap. Finally, Lob fronted him and gave him a few jabs, but Connor made short work of him after that. Which left him facing his nemesis, Furness.

The man was a bit of a mess from his previous bouts with a split lip and a bruise on his cheek. Connor suspected he didn’t look much better. This was the match up they’d all been waiting for, and the crowd seemed fairly evenly split into supporters for each man. The betting was heavy on this one, and the chanting got louder as the two men sized each other up and then closed, grabbing and wrestling, each trying to bring the other down.

Furness was a tad shorter than Connor and heavier set, so his centre of gravity was lower which gave him a slight advantage. He knew he had to get Furness quickly because he was tiring fast, his muscles were shaking with fatigue and aching from the effort he’d expended. He would be very sore tomorrow.

Callista had watchedConnor’s performance with tense muscles and a pounding heart, this final bout with Furness was the whole point of the exercise, but even she could see Connor was battling fatigue. Connor’s cheer squad redoubled their efforts at encouragement, shouting down the opposition. She was tempted to join them but kept mum. It wouldn’t do for her to show partiality.

The two men broke a clinch that was getting them nowhere and circled each other. They were both bloodied and bruised. Connor’s bare chest glistened with sweat and Furness’s shirt clung to his back, wet and stained. Each looked for a way to bring the other man down, the brutal intent in both of them was clear, and it communicated itself to the audience. A strange hush hung over the deck as the two men circled once more.

Then Fury launched himself at Connor, fists flying. Connor side-stepped and grabbed Fury’s legs, bringing him down onto the deck with a loud thump that made even Callista wince. With his knee on Fury’s chest, he pummelled him with blows to the face.

With a snarl, Fury tapped out and Connor got off him. Chen approached and announced Connor the winner, as Fury staggered to his feet and reeled away to be seized by Windy and Liang for treatment. The look he threw Connor as he did so, out of rapidly closing eyes, was pure, livid hatred.

Callista hid her smile of triumph as Connor was surrounded by the crew, congratulating him, patting him on the back, offering him a towel and drinks. The fight had done the trick, Connor was the hero of the ship and should now have the numbers to beat Furness in a ballot.

She had to admit he’d done well, three categories out of four and the most critical one the last. And no one could beat Njinga in a knife fight, so he shouldn’t feel bad about that, even she couldn’t take Njinga down, and she considered the knife her best weapon. She wouldn’t mind trying a bout of the sabre with him though, she rather thought she could beat him, but may be not...

Connor gota sluice down with seawater and had his several minor cuts and bruises attended to by Dr Liang, while he got waited on by two of the crew, who brought him more drink and a generous serving of supper. For which he was grateful. He’d depleted his reserves with that last fight and was light-headed and shaky.

Callista hadn’t spoken to him, but the look she threw him told him she was happy with him. Just her gaze of approval made his groin tighten and ache with lust. Fuck he wanted her.

Ye’ll have her soon enough lad, just hold tight ‘til ye’ve got yourself into a position of power. Once ye’re there, ye can erode her position, bit by bit. She won’t even notice until it’s too late, and if ye do it right she won’t even care.

All women wanted a man to master them, just some of them had trouble admitting it. Callista wasn’t so different from the rest of her sex, despite appearances. He’d have her, all of her, in every way possible. And soon. It had to be soon; she was driving him crazy.

To his surpriseshe found him on the deck just on sunset. He was enjoying a moment’s solitude after the feting he received following the competition win and contemplating his next move.

“This is my favourite time of the day,” she said, joining him at the rail. The breeze had picked up, and he’d put his shirt and jacket back on. The light was fading fast as the sun sank to the horizon in a blaze of glorious colour. The ship ploughed through the rising swell and the general air of peace and calm was a welcome balm to one who had lived his whole life on the edge.

He had thought himself addicted to that thrill and that he would be bored without the ever-present lick of danger, but he found the beauty of the sea and the freedom of the wind and sky seductive. He took a deep breath of the clean air, appreciating it more than he would have ever thought possible a fortnight ago. He’d been on this vessel for almost three weeks. It seemed like a lifetime.

“Ye don’t prefer sunrise?” he asked, looking at her profile. She was beautiful in this light, a beacon of energy and power. Even in a resting state, she still exuded that charismatic draw, like a lodestone tugging at something within him, pulling him into her orbit with an irresistible force.

“Depends if I’ve had enough sleep or not,” she said with surprising candour and a wicked grin that made his cock twitch and his balls tighten. Is she flirting with ye lad?

“And if ye haven’t?” he asked probing to see how far she would go.

She smiled. “I’ll stay a bed happily ‘til I’m satisfied.”

He swallowed a groan, his whole body tightening and flushing in response to that blatant lead.

He lowered his voice and softly, “If we were in yer cabin right now-”

“Yes?” Her breath caught, her eyes sparkling. “What would you do?”

He resisted the temptation to put his hands on her and show her. Instead, he swallowed, lowering his voice further to a gravelly growl, “I’d shove ye up against the wall and grind my aching cock between yer legs!”

Her gasp was audible, and he could see her breathing quicken and the pulse in her neck racing. “I’ll remember that, next time I invite you to my cabin, alone.”

He did groan then. “Callista...”

She glanced up at him sideways in a way that made his knees loosen. She turned on the rail, resting her elbows on it, which thrust her breasts outward. She lifted her head to look at the heavens, where the stars were beginning to show, revealing the column of her neck. He longed to set his lips to that tempting skin. He leaned closer and murmured hoarsely, “Ye’re playing with fire!”

She laughed. A rich warm chuckle that blazed in his chest and settled through his stomach to his groin like heated whisky. Fire and spice.

“I love fire,” she purred, lowering her head to look at him.

“Callista, ye’re driving me crazy!” He kept his voice low but couldn’t keep the desperate note out of it.

“I know.” She smiled. “I’m driving myself crazy too. It’s delicious!”

He groaned again. “It is not! It is agony!”

She turned to face him, one elbow on the rail, her expression sobered. “You know as well as I do we have to wait. It will be worth it. Enjoy the anticipation. I am.” With that she pushed off the rail and left him seething with want, his pulse racing and his cock on fire.

He swore beneath his breath, restraining himself from going after her and forcing her to give him what he wanted. What she blatantly wanted...

Taking a few deep breaths, he concentrated on the various aches and pains in his body, apart from his groin, and brought his raging lust back under control.

That woman!He ground his teeth. When I have her beneath me, she will regret this teasing...

He lost himself in fantasies for several minutes, jerked out of his reverie by a shout from the lookout in the crow’s nest.

“Storm ahead!” came the ominous warning, and he realised the freshening breeze had picked up and the sea roughened in the last few minutes. He gripped the rail in suddenly tense hands, his stomach tightening with dread.

They had practised for this eventuality, but had it been enough? They were a predominantly green crew; did they know enough, and how bad was the storm anyway? Judging from how quickly it had come up, it was travelling fast and in their direction.

Around him the ship was galvanised into action, and he soon found himself with too much to do, to think of anything but obeying orders.