Drawing the Veil by Stevie Woods
Phaze www.phaze.com
Copyright ©2009 by Stevie Woods
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Drawing the Veil by Stevie Woods
CONTENTS Drawing the Veil Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One About the Author ****
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Drawing the Veil by Stevie Woods
Published by Phaze Books Also by Stevie Woods Beyond the Veil Conflict This is an explicit and erotic novel intended for the enjoyment of adult readers. Please keep out of the hands of children. www.Phaze.com
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Drawing the Veil by Stevie Woods
Drawing the Veil An historical novel by STEVIE WOODS [Back to Table of Contents]
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Drawing the Veil by Stevie Woods
Drawing the Veil copyright 2009 by Stevie Woods All rights reserved under the International and PanAmerican Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. A Phaze Production Phaze Books 6470A Glenway Avenue, #109 Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222 Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC. To order additional copies of this book, contact:
[email protected] www.Phaze.com 6
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Cover art © 2008 Debi Lewis Edited by Jade Falconer ISBN-13: 978-1-60659-190-1 First Edition—August, 2009 Printed in the United States of America 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter One Mediterranean Sea, September 1765 Malik felt the pirate's arm tighten around his chest even as the man's other arm wrapped around his neck, tightening across Malik's throat as the pirate forced his head back. He was totally immobilized and could hardly breathe, but he struggled to keep his eyes focused on the water beyond the opposite railing, praying. Suddenly a large black man broke the water, a young slender man held close against his body. Malik's eyes closed for a second and he felt utter relief. He soon opened them again to confirm what he had seen, gaze straining at the distance between him and the small figures in the roiling sea. Not wishing to draw the pirate's attention to his friends, Malik kept his reactions internal. Robert was so pale he looked half-dead, but Malik knew that when Aram had jumped into the water Robert had been very much alive, shouting in frustrated anger and thumping at his friend's body. Malik sagged a little in his captor's grip as he saw Robert coughing and retching, Aram holding him firmly above the waves. He was grateful that the pirates were too busy on board the captured ship to bother to look over the side into the sea. Malik was aware that Robert hadn't wanted to leave him behind, but he had been trapped on the other side of the deck. Whatever else Aram was, he was completely loyal to Robert Charteris and Malik knew he would do everything in 8
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his power to keep Robert safe. For that, Malik would be eternally grateful. Even though it meant abandoning him to the Barbary pirates. Malik felt tears pricking his eyes but he wouldn't let the bastards believe he was afraid of them and he stubbornly forced the tears back. As useless as he knew it probably was, he renewed his struggles and only stopped when the pirate pressed his arm so brutally against Malik's throat again that his vision began to darken. "Be still!" Malik heard the pirate's words as if from a distance. "I'd rather keep you alive, don't make me kill you," the man snarled at him and being no fool, Malik let his body go limp. A deep voice boomed out, cutting across the noise on deck. "Sweep the dregs overboard, line up the rest." It didn't take long for the pirates to dispose of the dead. Though Malik could not be certain, he thought they might have finished off a couple of badly injured sailors before throwing them into the sea with the rest of the dead. The ship had been damaged and even to Malik's inexperienced eye it was obvious it was sinking. The ships had been grappled together when the pirates had attacked. Now a wide plank dropped onto the deck of the English ship so the prisoners could be quickly herded across onto the Corsair ship. Malik was dragged over to the centre of the main deck and shoved into line with the other survivors. The passengers were mixed up with the crew as they were gathered together. As far as he knew only Robert and Aram had escaped from 9
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among the passengers. However, he had seen the body of Mr. Holmes lying crumpled up near the steps to the upper deck where he had fallen. It had been chilling to see a sword slice into the man as he tried to keep his teenage son safe; but it had perhaps been more chilling to watch as the poor man's corpse was unceremoniously dumped into the sea along with the dead sailors, Corsair fallen along with the English dead. Malik glanced over to where young Ernest Holmes now huddled, arms wrapped around himself, pale and shaking, gaze darting from one pirate to the next. Malik wished he could do something to comfort the boy but there were half a dozen men between Malik and Ernest. Most of them were sailors who were older than he was, let alone young Ernest, yet no one seemed to think about comforting the lad whose father had just been murdered in front of him. It seemed that only the few ladies on board were considered worthy of that kind thought. Perhaps it was his own recent abandonment, as necessary as it had been, but at that moment Malik admitted to himself that he wouldn't have refused a little comfort if it were offered. With that thought in mind, he edged backwards a step behind the man next to him and then moved slowly but steadily towards the lad. He had almost reached the boy, his hand snaking out to touch Ernest's arm, when a sharp voice demanded, "And where do you think you're going?" A large hand shot out and grabbed Malik by the shoulder and yanked him forward. He looked up into one of the ugliest faces he had ever seen; it was a pity that Malik had seen him before when he had forced Malik's head back with his arm 10
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across his throat. His had been the last face Malik saw before his sight dimmed. Not a nice sight, he mused, when it might have been his last. "Captain, I think you might find this one of interest," the pirate said in a particularly snide voice. A man approached, swathed almost completely in dark green robes edged with silver thread. His veil trailed across his shoulder so his face was visible and the scar cutting across his face from lower left jaw to just below his left eye lent his visage a cruel air. He was not as tall as Malik but he was of a heavier build. His eyes were dark, and Malik got the distinct impression the darkness was more than merely the colour of his pupils, it was a darkness of his soul. Malik wondered at his own fanciful thoughts, thinking Robert would have laughed at him. Robert. God, did he even still live? Aram had taken a terrible risk leaping into the sea like that, but he had sworn never to allow himself to be taken for a slave again. The ex-slave had tasted freedom again during the last few years and had preferred to jump into the sea, trusting he could find a way to survive. He entrusted his life and that of his charge to the waters—probably hoping to find a piece of wreckage from their vessel to cling to—rather than risk being enslaved once more. Slavery, that was to be Malik's future now. A fact he hadn't really faced until that moment. Malik hissed sharply as the captain grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him further forward, away from the other prisoners. The captain roughly spun Malik around, looking him up and down from every angle. Malik almost fell before the 11
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captain grabbed him again and he was turned to face him. Malik became acutely aware of the gleam in his captor's eyes and he was suddenly afraid for another reason entirely. The captain grinned and turned to the pirate who had captured Malik. "Take him to my cabin, Ali. Secure him." "Aye, Reis," the pirate acknowledged his captain, even as he took Malik's arm. "Jabbar," he called and another pirate approached, pulling a thin cord from his sash as he did so. The pirate tied Malik's wrists together and pulled him forward by the rope, forcing him to stumble along as quickly as he could. Jabbar followed on behind, giving Malik a push to hurry him along, and Malik was totally unnerved and confused by what was happening. Malik was dragged below deck and chivvied along to the stern where the captain's cabin was located. "Hurry boy, the captain needs us," the one called Ali snarled at him as if he could go any faster in the narrow space. When they finally reached the narrow door, Ali kicked it open and shoved Malik inside ahead of him, still keeping a grip on the twist of rope binding his wrists together. The rope had already rubbed the skin and Malik was convinced that if they kept jerking him around by the cord, his wrists would soon be bleeding. It seemed odd that his thoughts still dwelt on such simple problems when his whole life was falling apart. He was shocked as a pair of hands clamped onto his waist and Malik went rigid. 12
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"Ready?" Jabbar asked his colleague and Ali just grunted assent. Ready for what? Malik panicked as a lump settled in his stomach. Ali released the rope to instead take hold of his forearms. Suddenly the hands tightened on Malik's waist and he was lifted off his feet. Ali raised his arms over his head. Malik couldn't help but follow his line of sight and for the first time he saw the large hook set into the ceiling of the cabin, just beside the door and only inches from the wall. His heart pounded in his chest with dread as Ali hooked the rope between his wrists over the hook. The two sailors stood back and grinned at each other before turning their unholy faces on Malik. Jabbar stepped forward and placed his hand on the prisoner's chest and Malik couldn't help but suck in a breath and press his body back against the cabin wall behind him, automatically trying to escape the unwanted touch. Abruptly Jabbar took a handful of Malik's shirt, yanking him forward as he ripped it from Malik's body, slamming him into the wall behind as the material parted. Malik shuddered but it was more from distaste than from the violence. Jabbar grabbed the remaining scraps of his shirt, pulling them away to leave Malik half-naked and wholly vulnerable as the pirate leered at him. "Enough, Jabbar!" Ali snapped. "Back on deck." "Shame," Jabbar murmured as they left him alone. The word echoed in his brain. Shame. The shame he would feel at what he expected would happen to him next? A shame 13
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he might not survive it? Shame the pirate could not have him? Oh God! Shame that Malik had been taken away from the only person he'd ever loved besides his parents? The man he knew in his heart was the one he was meant to spend his life with. The man he knew now he would never see again. Oh, Robert. What a future they could have had together. They were not stupid; they knew very well how difficult their life was going to be. There was nowhere on this earth they could have openly lived together as a couple, but they had sworn to each other they would try to find a way. Never in a million years, though, had they had ever imagined this scenario. Malik was all too aware that it would not be long before the captain came to him. He could hear the shouts and cries from above. He had lived in Tripoli all his life and he knew exactly what would happen to those poor souls on deck. The women would be separated and eventually end up in some man's harem, the rich men stood a chance of being ransomed, the poor ones faced only a life as slaves. The sailors would be given a choice: join the Barbary fleet and one day perhaps gain their freedom and a cut of the spoils, or be sold on the slave block. Not much of a choice it was true, but the majority of the sailors took the chance of possible freedom at sea to certain slavery on land. He tried to stop the voice whispering inside his head that the kind of slavery at sea he faced was worse than the future any of the others had to look forward to. He couldn't hide the truth from himself no matter what he tried to do. Malik supposed he should be grateful that he wasn't a virgin. It 14
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would be rape no less, but at least he knew what to expect. He shuddered at the idea that Robert could have been strung up on this damned hook. Dear Lord, better it's me. Malik was glad that Aram had disobeyed Robert's command. Aram protected Robert even against his charges wishes. Malik recalled overhearing the end of a conversation— no, it was more like an argument—between Aram and Robert, which in itself was unusual. They had been on the docks just before they were due to board their ship taking them home to Tripoli, and Robert had asked Malik to go and make sure their luggage got loaded properly. Malik had been a little surprised by the request; it was something he expected Aram would normally wish to take care of, but as Aram stood aside looking particularly stony even for the reticent man he was, Malik simply acquiesced. He assumed there was something going on between the two men and perhaps Robert wanted to correct whatever the problem was. Malik smiled as he walked away, sometimes it seemed remarkable to him just how much those two cared for each other because they sure knew how to confound each other. It wasn't very long before he returned. The luggage had already been stowed safely aboard ship. As he weaved his way between the stacks of cargo lining the dock area he heard raised voices and immediately recognised Robert's tense voice and Aram's calm baritone. "You must do as I say, Aram. If there is any trouble on our voyage home, you must protect Malik at all costs." "My duty is to you, Robert. Your father charged me with your care and that has to be my priority." 15
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"I know. But, Aram, if you truly care for me you will do as I ask, please. Malik means everything to me, I can't lose him." "You are causing yourself undue concern. There is no reason to expect our vessel will be attacked." "Maybe," Robert conceded, "but I need to know that if anything were to happen you would look after Malik. Please, Aram, for me?" "You are a stubborn young man," Aram replied. "I will agree to do whatever I can." Robert never knew that Malik had overheard the exchange. Malik made a noise as he approached the pair and Robert already spoke of other things by the time Malik reached them. Malik wondered if Robert had actually heard what Aram had said, or merely what he wanted to hear. In his careful response Aram had never actually agreed to look out for Malik at the cost of protecting Robert. Now, Malik was grateful that Aram had done his duty as he saw it. The idea of his excitable but still remarkably innocent young lover lashed to this hook and waiting for the rapacious captain to return was too awful to contemplate. Yet Malik couldn't help but contemplate it, for that was exactly what awaited him. He couldn't bear to keep thinking about this. He desperately needed to silence the voices, but if he couldn't stop them, perhaps he could change what they said? Perhaps he could lose himself in memories he treasured, it might be the last chance he had to indulge himself. He might be insane—or dead—come the next sunrise, and he didn't know which was worse. 16
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Malik let his mind drift back to the first time he had seen Robert Charteris. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Two August, 1863 He had been crossing the rectangle from First Court to the Burroughs Building when a figure stepped out from the cloisters and into the sun. The movement drew his attention; he automatically looked in that direction and was held fast by what he saw. Malik couldn't help but stare at the young man; he really was the most perfect being he had ever seen. He looked a little younger than Malik's eighteen years, about sixteen, maybe seventeen he guessed. He was almost as tall as Malik was, though Malik thought he was broader across the shoulders. He wasn't as dark as Malik, though his skin was tanned and his light brown hair seemed streaked by the sun; not this pale imitation of a sun over England. The stranger had been abroad somewhere very hot to be sure. The young man could not seem to keep still, almost dancing as he turned circles to look at his new surroundings. Malik had had the same reaction when he first arrived at Peterhouse College the previous term and it had been like stepping into a whole new world. It was so intrinsically different from his home, but then England was so very far away from where he had been born. Surely the same couldn't be said of ... His thoughts came screaming to a halt when a huge black man approached the stranger and engaged him in a lively conservation. Whoever the older black man was, the young one knew him very well. 18
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Malik must have shown his interest rather too blatantly as Clive Morrison sauntered towards him, gave his usual supercilious smile and said, "Someone else from your part of the world, and this one even brings a black servant with him. I wonder if he will fit in here any more than you do." He looked at Malik with his usual disdainful expression, as if he smelled something unpleasant. It hadn't taken Morrison long to decide Malik didn't fit into his version of the upper class English school; a half-English, half-Arabian foreigner did not belong in this pristine establishment as far as he was concerned. It was only as Morrison walked on that his words really sunk in. "From my part of the world? What?" But Morrison ignored Malik and continued on his way. Malik looked back to where the stranger had been talking with his servant but the two men were moving through the door to Burroughs Building. Malik smiled; his room was in Burroughs Building too. He hurried after them. After all, shouldn't he welcome a new student to his building? As he climbed the stairs Malik heard voices ahead of him and he listened, more to hear what the stranger's voice sounded like than to eavesdrop on the actual conversation. It was not difficult to distinguish between the two men; one voice was very deep and Malik was certain that belonged to the servant. The man was huge and the voice fit perfectly with his barrel of a chest. The other voice was lighter, younger and Malik decided he very much liked the sound of it.
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"I do hope they have given us a large enough room," the young man said. "My father did write that I was bringing a companion." "If not, Robert, I am sure I can find a suitable abode. Nearby." So his name was Robert. Malik was surprised at his servant's familiarity though. Malik cleared his throat to let them know he was near. They both turned at once and the black man moved to stand in front of Robert. "I wondered if you were going to announce your presence," he said in a steady tone, his frank gaze meeting Malik's curious one. His manner was not that of a servant and Malik regarded him with interest. "Aram, relax," Robert said, patting his arm while at the same time peeking over his shoulder to give Malik a wry smile. "Sorry, he ... he..." "I protect you, Robert," Aram interjected, his eyes never leaving Malik. Malik had the distinct impression that whatever their relationship, Aram was more than a servant to Robert. Robert shrugged and sighed. "Yes, very well, Aram, you protect me but we're not at home in Tripoli any longer, there is no need to protect me at school." Malik could scarcely believe his ears. "Tripoli? You come from Tripoli?" "Yes. Sorry, I am Robert Charteris and this is my friend, Aram. As you will have guessed we have just arrived. And from Tripoli. You know it, sir?" Malik knew he was smiling like an idiot, but to find someone else from home. He gave Robert a slight bow and 20
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introduced himself. "Forgive me, sir, my name is Abd-al-Malik Paulsen and Tripoli is my home too. I arrived here last term and have yet to feel I belong." A wide smile broke over Robert's face and Malik almost gasped. He had thought him handsome before, but now he saw how truly beautiful he was. Robert's warm brown eyes sparkled with pleasure and his skin positively glowed, seemingly inviting Malik's touch. Malik quickly stuffed his hands into his pockets. "You are of mixed blood, sir. Your mother is Tripolitan?" There was no disparagement in Robert's question, mere polite curiosity. "Yes, Mr. Charteris, she was. I'm afraid she died when I was but a youngster." "My regrets, sir." Robert bowed slightly before continuing, "Please, if we are to become friends would you not call me Robert?" "I would be delighted, Robert." Malik smiled though it was hesitant, "You must return the favour and address me as Malik, but I should warn you, not everyone here has welcomed me. I would not wish you to ... damage your..." "Good grief, Malik," Robert interrupted. "I make my own choices and I have taken a liking to you. My own parents have lived in Tripoli since I was little more than a babe and I am much more at home there than I will ever be here. It is good to discover someone who knows the world I grew up in. This is my first visit to the country that I am supposed to think of as home. It is very hard to call a place home when one has never visited it!" 21
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Smiling and holding out his hand, Malik said, "Perhaps we can help each other learn the niceties ... I believe is the term." Robert laughed. "Let us see how 'nice' our accommodations are first. Is your room nearby, Malik? I am supposed to be in room thirty-two but I don't seem to be able..." "It is here, Robert," Aram spoke from a few doors down the hall. He opened the door and walked inside and the others quickly followed. "They have indeed complied with your father's request. After a fashion." Malik had to stifle a laugh. They had given Robert the end room on the landing and it was indeed one of the larger ones. A second bed had been added, though perhaps cot was a more correct term. The idea of Aram trying to sleep in a cot that was at least two feet too short and a foot too narrow was ludicrous. Robert didn't even attempt to hide his amusement, he burst out laughing and his obvious merriment cut the bonds of Malik's control and released his laughter and soon Malik was hanging onto Robert as they both laughed until they cried; the look of disdain on Aram's face only adding to the ridiculousness of the situation. That was the beginning of a friendship that soon came to mean everything to Malik. The fact that Robert befriended him despite of—or perhaps at first because of—the unkind attitude of a few of the more hidebound students, had little to do with why it mattered so much to him. Malik wouldn't deny Robert's staunch support made him feel less alone, less different, but he knew without a doubt that Robert would 22
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have been as friendly to him even without such behaviour. He supposed their similar background and feeling of displacement did draw them together in the beginning, but he didn't believe it was why they remained friends. Robert proved to be very popular with the other students and had no need to cling to one poor misplaced foreigner— which was how Malik had felt some days, damn it, some weeks—but though Robert had other friends he never gravitated to anyone else the way he did to Malik and Malik didn't question it. He was just deeply grateful for his friendship and, though he secretly dreamed of more, Malik was happy that Robert desired his company. He would have been content with that for as long as Robert offered it to him. Malik came to dread the day when their schooling finished and they returned home, fearful that life would send them on their separate ways. They told each other of their life back home in Tripoli, and Robert was very interested when he heard that Malik's father had originally arrived in Tripoli many years earlier as the Naval Attaché acting on behalf of the British Admiralty. Official relations between the countries may have been strained but both sides acknowledged the sense, and the convenience, of maintaining a line of communication. After all, how could the Ottomans exact their levy—a polite word for bribery—from the English to ensure the safety of their ships, if there was no one to act as a liaison? Who better than the Naval Attachés working in the Consulates of the various capitals of the Ottoman Empire? William Paulsen was such an 23
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official and not all of his dealings with the Ottomans were in the public eye. Malik told Robert he was convinced that his father also acted as a spy for the British government and the two young men dreamt up any number of adventures that the young William might have been embroiled in. William was still officially in the employ of the Consulate in Tripoli but part of his time was now taken up with raising stallions for which the Arabs were famous. "Oh, I can definitely understand how your father became enamoured of the Arabian horses, they are magnificent," Robert said. "You should see my horse, he's wonderful. I was there when he was born and I just fell in love with him." Malik grinned sheepishly. "I begged Father to let me have him. He pretended at first to say no, but I could see through his ruse. He told me later that he had always intended the colt for me. Suleiman, I called him, seemed appropriate." "Ah, after Suleiman the Great," Robert commented, nodding his understanding. "I prefer the title, Suleiman the Magnificent. Fits my horse better anyhow." Robert laughed and slapped him on the back. "And your father, how did he come to be living in Tripoli?" Malik asked. "It's not exactly a welcoming place for a Christian." "I didn't even understand how out of place we were living there until I was about ten," Robert confessed. He explained that his father was the third son of a noble family and as such 24
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he was expected to make his own way in the world, but he had no intention of following the usual route for a younger son. Somewhat to his family's dismay, Henry Charteris had not wanted to go into the church or the military, which were the accepted avenues open to men in his position, but instead Henry decided to go into commerce. He took a tremendous risk choosing to put every penny he had into an import export venture based in Alexandria and aimed at the untapped market of Africa and the Arabian Peninsula, and it had been a huge success. That had been the beginning of a rise in fortunes for Henry Charteris. He moved to North Africa to oversee his burgeoning business empire, bringing his wife and baby son, Robert, with him. They moved to Tripoli when Robert was five and he had lived in the city ever since. They talked a little more about growing up in the busy city when Malik noticed that Robert looked a little uncertain, flicking his eyes at Malik and then dropping them. "You can ask me anything, Robert," Malik said. "I won't guarantee to answer but you can ask." Robert smiled. "Thank you. I couldn't help but wonder how your father came to marry your mother? It is very unusual." Malik was quiet for a moment and Robert looked even more uncomfortable. He raised a hand and was about to speak, when Malik abruptly said, "He didn't, he couldn't. He wanted to and so did she, but her family wouldn't allow it. He ... he had to pay a lot of money to her father just to allow her to stay in the house." He stopped, shrugging. "I should have explained that she worked in his house, her parents and my 25
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mother all worked for my father, ran his household for him, and ... well they fell in love. He ... they..." He took a breath and released it slowly. "Please," Robert interjected, clearly uncomfortable. "I shouldn't have asked." "No, it's all right. It's not something I have ever discussed before. My father told me the truth about Diala, my mother, when he thought I was old enough to understand, and then he would never talk about it again. Somehow it feels ... clean to talk about it with a friend, someone I trust." Robert smiled. "Thank you for that." Malik briefly returned the smile and then he went on, "When her family discovered Diala was with child ... Her father was furious, threatened to kill her, threatened to kill my father. He kept going on about his agreement that she should be her cousin's bride and my mother declared she hated him, which only made her father more angry. Diala's mother managed to calm him but he intended to take Diala away, never allow her to see my father again. She begged him to let her stay with my father and he asked for permission to marry her, but her father refused. There was no way his daughter could marry a Christian, that would be a disgrace. More of a disgrace than that fact she was with child and unmarried?" Malik shook his head in bewilderment. "Still, it seemed his disgrace was greatly lessened by the offer of a gift to allow Diala to stay in my father's house and return to her duties once the child was born. As if my father would treat her like a servant. They didn't understand anything!" 26
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He took a breath and continued. "Her parents were not prepared to continue to work for my father and they took the money and went back to the family home in Zarzis. They visited her once a year from what I understand but I don't believe they ever saw me. She was never allowed to marry my father but she lived as his wife within the four walls of our home." Malik held Robert's gaze as he said, "My father told me never to doubt that they loved each other. They said their vows to each other in front of God and they considered themselves married." **** Looking back now it seemed strange that Malik never considered the possibility that Robert could feel the same way for him as Malik did for Robert. Oh, he'd been drawn to Robert's appearance at first, couldn't deny that he was damned attractive, but Malik fell in love with the complicated, compassionate character that lived inside that lovely exterior. Malik never, ever expected that Robert would develop similar feelings about him. He'd never understood how cunning Robert was, not at first. Due to Robert's circumspection, it took Malik almost a year and a half to even realize that, like him, Robert found men much more interesting than women, in every way possible. Robert had pulled the wool over his eyes quite successfully with his stated reasoning for not mooning over young women the way most of their fellow students did. In the beginning he was too busy settling into his new life, then he was too busy catching up with his studies, then the 27
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exams were approaching and finally he didn't want to become too attached to any young female and then have to leave her to return home to Tripoli: all so very plausible. So in Malik's defence, it was not surprising he never entertained the idea that Robert might really be interested in men, and as for any dreams that Robert might entertain an emotional attraction for him? That was all they were, dreams. So it was not difficult to imagine Malik's chagrin when late one night after one celebratory drink too many—the reason for which Malik could never again remember—he was so far in his cups that as Robert helped him to his bed, Malik pulled him close and with his mouth almost kissing Robert's, murmured, "I adore you, I want to..." Malik never got any further because the look of shock on Robert's face sobered him up as nothing else could. Malik was convinced he had completely ruined it, destroyed the best friendship he had ever had. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Three "Oh, God. I don't even know what I'm saying," Malik blurted, desperately trying to cover his blunder. "It's the drink talking. I ... I..." Robert's gentle laughter stopped him cold. Malik must have looked like a beached fish as Robert took hold of his hands. "Malik, you fool. Don't you know you are everything I have ever wanted?" Stepping closer, Robert added, "Would you stop being a bloody idiot and kiss me? Please?" That first kiss was still seared into Malik's memory. He had lusted after Robert for so long that it was a shock when his vague fantasies were suddenly stark reality. Malik stared at Robert, unable to move. Even though Robert asked for the kiss, he still managed to look stunned. It suddenly hit Malik that the odds were he was the one with experience, and he was pretty certain that he was Robert's first—and goodness, didn't that thought surge through Malik, making him hard. Malik was glad Robert was holding his hands. The contact warmed him and steadied him at the same time. "Have you ever kissed a man before?" Malik asked softly. "No, but I have wanted to kiss you for such a long time," Robert murmured. "God," Malik breathed, slowly leaning towards him, unable to take his eyes from Robert's mouth. He gently pressed his lips against Robert's and even that innocent touch had his heart racing. Malik licked his lower lip, his eyes holding Robert's now, wanting to see everything. Malik ran his tongue 29
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over Robert's closed lips until they opened and he slipped his tongue inside. Malik saw Robert's eyes widen and his grip on Malik's hands tightened. Malik pulled their joined hands up between their bodies, drawing him closer. The heat of the kiss and the press of their bodies made Malik want more, and the moan Robert released into his mouth convinced him that Robert felt the same. He released Malik's hands and immediately Robert's arms wrapped around him. Malik's hands slipped onto his buttocks, pulling Robert tight against him. Robert gasped as their groins ground into each other and Malik took advantage, pressing his tongue deeper inside even as he circled his hips. Robert broke the kiss, gasping, "Oh God, oh God, Malik!" His eyes were wide, the pupils almost black with desire, his cheeks were flushed and his mouth still wet from Malik's kisses. He looked so beautiful; Malik wanted to possess him, own him and never let him go. Malik whispered, "I adore you." Malik pressed the flat of his hand against Robert's groin, feeling the heat through his trousers and Robert gasped at the pressure. "Can I?" Malik asked. Robert seemed incapable of speech and he just nodded. Unfastening his trousers, Malik slipped his hand inside and with that first feel of his smooth skin over hard flesh it was Malik's turn to gasp, sliding his hand up and down the hardening column, made easier by the pre-come spilling out of the slit. Malik looked into Robert's eyes and saw they were half-closed. Malik squeezed and pulled his cock and Robert's eyes flew wide. Malik smiled as Robert moaned his name. 30
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Robert never took his eyes off Malik's face after that as he stroked him to completion. When Robert finally spent into Malik's hand, he came with such a contented sigh that Malik moaned his name as he captured Robert's mouth again for a second and third kiss. When they finally came up for air, Robert asked breathlessly, "What can I do for you?" Malik smiled. "Next time let's get naked; coming in my clothes is rather uncomfortable." Robert stared at Malik's trousers and grinned when he spied the wet spot. That was their first hesitant encounter and Malik slowly introduced Robert to the joys of loving a man. Malik's experience wasn't very wide, but he was determined to teach Robert everything he knew, and enjoy himself immensely. It seemed Robert shared Malik's resolve because the more Malik showed him the more he wanted to learn. When it came time for Malik to penetrate Robert for the first time, he was more nervous than Robert was, but Malik was very careful to use plenty of oil and after the first momentary pain, Robert's cries were only ones of pleasure. Malik quickly kissed Robert, stifling his cries with his mouth. He loved to hear the joy he brought to his lover but they couldn't risk being overheard. As Robert calmed, Malik kissed his neck and whispered in his ear, "You were so ... I love you." "Malik, I never knew it could feel like that. That was remarkable." Robert pulled Malik over him and kissed him fervently. "I want to do that again with you soon," Robert said with a smile. 31
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"Oh, yes." Malik nuzzled him. "But, Robert, we have talked about this and we have to be careful." "I know, but I love you and I intend to show you whenever I can. Damn, you can gag me if you want but I will be intimate with you!" Malik was hot and his heart pounded at the image of Robert bound and gagged as Malik took him. "God, Robert, the things you say," he breathed. It was only three days before they left Peterhouse to travel home when Robert finally took the last step and pushed his cock inside Malik. He was afraid of not being good enough but Malik was desperate to finally feel him inside and he told Robert that he could never disappoint him. Malik asked Robert to trust him as much as he trusted Robert. Robert melted at that and held Malik tight as he kissed him, first his mouth and then slowly he moved down Malik's body, kissing as he went. Malik was violently shocked out of his pleasant memories and back to the unwelcome present when the cabin door catapulted open to slam against the wall only inches from his body. He'd spent many months with Robert in his memories but in reality only a few minutes had passed. He'd been so wrapped up in his pleasurable memories of Robert that he had—almost—forgotten what he waited was waiting for. Or rather, who. The captain filled the whole room with his presence. He was a tall, heavy set man of about forty, and the scar across his face lent an air of cruelty to a man whose bearing was 32
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naturally threatening and really didn't need any help from his physical appearance. Just one look at the expression of the man who presently raked his body with hot hungry eyes and the fear and disgust flooded back. When the captain looked at Malik on deck it had been with interest but all that he could see now was avarice and lust. It was as if his eyes stripped Malik of more than just his attire, he ripped away his last shred of dignity and Malik felt dirty and sick to his stomach. God, he hasn't even touched me yet. How am I going to bear it? [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Four The captain came closer and Malik tensed as the man stretched a hand toward his chest, one finger traced down his sternum, almost tenderly, which only unnerved Malik more, as impossible as that seemed. The captain smiled and Malik assumed it was at his obvious discomfort. The captain's words confirmed his fears. "I am Captain Shuaib and I am your master now. I saw you during the fight on deck," he said, that self same smile still evident. "I admire spirit in a man but now it is time to curb such inclinations, time for you to learn your place." He took a step back as he spoke and began to unbuckle his belt. "This will be your first lesson." He moved towards Malik again and, gripping Malik's waist, he turned him around to face the wall. The twisted bonds dug deeper into his wrists and Malik grunted. The captain laughed and then Malik heard the sound of leather slapping leather. Malik looked over his shoulder to see Shuaib snapping the belt, testing its weight. Knowing what was coming didn't make it any easier and Malik turned away, afraid the captain would see the fear in his eyes. Malik heard the swish of the belt, yet he was in no way prepared for the strike as it hit his naked back and he gasped, biting his lower lip trying to keep the scream inside. Shuaib hit him again and again and Malik lost count of how many times, or which blow finally made him cry out. Or which one finally spilled the tears down his cheeks. The burning pain 34
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was just one continuous sensation now and when it finally stopped all he could feel was grateful as he sagged against the wall in relief. It was over, thank the Lord. Only it wasn't over. When Malik felt Shuaib's hands at his waist struggling to unfasten his britches, Malik was confused enough to think at first the captain was going to continue the beating—and he came to wish he had. Instead he felt Shuaib's hot hands caressing his buttocks and he was sickened to feel the captain's fat fingers kneading the muscle around his anus. He struggled but the captain held him firmly in place as he massaged Malik's opening. Then he let go and moved away, but Malik was under no illusion that was all he wanted and soon the captain returned. Malik managed to look over his shoulder at what he was doing and he couldn't help but be relieved when he saw Shuaib pour some oil over his hands. Then the captain began preparing Malik to receive him, paying special attention to the puckered rim. Still, Malik gasped when he shoved his finger inside him. "This is lesson number two. Now don't struggle too much boy, it'll only make it more difficult for you. Relax, you might even enjoy it," he said, laughing roughly, working a second finger inside and twisting it around. Malik bucked, trying to get away from the intrusion and the captain slapped him hard. Malik sobbed in pained frustration. Malik was grateful with a kind of sick acceptance that at least the brute used something for lubrication, as the two fingers became three and he worked Malik thoroughly to loosen him up. Then the fingers were removed and without any warning a huge cock was rammed inside him. 35
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"God!" Malik cried out, shaking and gasping at the sudden invasion. Shuaib ignored him, continuing to thrust harder and harder, muttering to himself over and over, "Good, oh good, that's it. Yes, so good." Unbidden, Malik's mind was suddenly assailed with images of the night when he had taught Robert how to penetrate him for the first time. It had been the most intense experience of his life and he felt as if this ... this bastard was taking that away from him. Malik screamed out his loss, and once he had opened the floodgates, his fear and anger poured forth until he had no heart left for anything but his tears. Shuaib yelled out as he climaxed inside Malik and the young man shuddered as he felt Shuaib's seed fill him. Abruptly he pulled out, laughing as Malik grunted at the pain. "You were good and tight, boy. A good fuck. I chose well." His words made Malik feel cheap and without thinking he spat on the floor to get the foul taste from his mouth. The captain was furious and Shuaib struck Malik across his back and Malik screamed again. It felt as if he were being sliced with a knife dipped in acid. He was still gasping for breath when Shuaib lifted his bound wrists from the hook, dropping Malik's abused body over his shoulder and driving out what little air Malik had left. Malik desperately tried to drag air into his tortured lungs as Shuaib dumped him unceremoniously onto his bunk. Malik landed on his back, waves of pain bombarding his senses. He was no longer able to make a sound; even breathing seemed impossible and it felt as if his eyes were 36
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going to pop from their sockets. Shuaib muttered something under his breath and rolled him over onto his stomach, pulling his still bound hands from underneath his abdomen, causing pain to flare anew along Malik's arms and back. Ignoring his moans, Shuaib positioned Malik's arms so his head lay between them and his hands were draped over the pillow. With difficulty Malik lifted his head, trying to see what the captain was doing. He drew another piece of rope from under the bed and looped it over the rope binding Malik's wrists and tied the end off somewhere out of sight. Obviously, Malik was not the first man he had imprisoned in his cabin, tied to his bed. Abruptly Malik's right leg was held and pulled towards the end bed post where Shuaib tied his ankle. A chill went down Malik's spine at the totally exposed position he was being placed in and he was confused when the captain left his left leg free. "Get comfortable while you can." He looked at Malik with an odd expression, he thought for a moment the captain felt some sympathy for him. Then he smiled widely and added, "I'll be back to sample you again later." **** Pain washed through Malik as he lay there and it was not all physical. He couldn't help but feel he should have done something, fought back against the captain somehow, anything to stop the bastard from raping him. Malik knew he expected too much of himself; there was no way he could have done a thing to protect himself, strung up with his hands tied, but he couldn't help the ... the anger, the shame that 37
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swamped him. Shame. There was that word again and he squirmed, trying to get away from the uncomfortable train of thought. He grunted in frustration as all he could do was move his head and it was only when he felt the wet material under his cheek that he realized he was crying. He wished he could drown in all the tears he wanted to shed. It was then he heard more noise on deck, raised voices and a woman screaming. There was the sound of a sharply barked command, the captain ordering his crew to separate the prisoners and get the women off his deck, followed by what seemed ominous silence. Malik was desperate to know what was going on. What was happening to the other men, to the sailors? He invented all sorts of horrors and decided it was worse than if he'd actually been able to witness what happened on deck. His nerves felt more and more shredded as the minutes passed. It got so bad that he almost wanted Captain Shuaib to return just so he could know what was happening. He was going out of his mind. Perhaps it was better that way? The door opened and Malik immediately regretted his wandering thoughts, as if somehow he had brought the captain back to his side. He tensed as Shuaib ran a fingernail along his spine, from his neck slowly towards his backside and Malik fought not to scream. He pressed his face into the pillow, grinding his teeth together, wanting Shuaib to just get on with it, to stop playing with him. He started when the captain spoke. "We are heading into port where the prisoners will be sold on the slave block," he said almost conversationally. "All except you; I think we are 38
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going to become very well acquainted." As he spoke, the captain's hand slid lower, bypassing his buttocks and moving on to Malik's thighs. Malik reacted to both the touch and the words by striking out with his free leg. Malik didn't make very good contact, the angle was too difficult for that; but he hit the captain's leg and Shuaib's retaliation was immediate. He grabbed his belt which still lay on the floor and he snarled, "You'll pay for that," as he snapped it across Malik's buttocks, laying on with a will. Malik grunted, unable to regret the pain he received because that one effort at retaliation had been worth the cost. After a half dozen blows, Shuaib dropped his belt again and took a breath. "Don't push me boy, I'll push right back, harder." There was silence for a moment. "Look at me, boy!" It was clearly an order and Malik knew he had to pick his fights because he was at a terrible disadvantage. He lifted his head and turned to look at his captor. Shuaib smiled but it wasn't a pleasant expression. "I like beautiful young men, especially once I have broken them to my wishes." With his heart pounding in his chest, Malik dreaded what would be next on the man's list. He was therefore rather surprised when Shuaib unfastened the cords binding him to the bed, as he had been expecting another rape. Instead, the captain proceeded to show the hapless young man another of his desires when he forced Malik to take his cock into his mouth and suck him off. "If I feel as much as a single tooth graze my flesh..." Shuaib didn't need to finish the sentence; Malik understood only too well that the captain would make him pay. 39
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When he serviced the captain to his satisfaction, including swallowing every drop and licking the man clean, Shuaib pushed him back onto the cot and retied his bindings. "Now you're going to learn your lessons well, my fine young man. You're going to do exactly what I say when I say and never question my wishes. Understand?" Malik refused to answer, burying his face in the rough pillow. He expected a beating for it but he would not simply acquiesce. The captain just laughed. "Oh, but you will, you will." Malik felt the man's hands on his back and shuddered. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Five The next morning the pirate ship, which Malik had discovered was called the Agha Din, dropped its anchor in Bougie in Algeria, one of the most notorious of the Barbary ports. The passengers and those sailors who had refused to sign up as crew were to be unloaded and taken to be sold on the city's infamous slave block. The captain untied Malik's ankles and rolled him onto his back, leaving his wrists still fastened to the bed by the cord. Malik struggled to ignore the pain in his back and the soreness in his ass. He concentrated on Shuaib, wondering what the bastard had in store for him next, but the captain ignored him and walked over to the small desk against the back wall. Unable to keep quiet any longer, Malik said, "Now you've had your fun with me, I suppose you are going to sell me?" Shuaib glanced over his shoulder and Malik was unnerved by the look in his eye. "Oh no, boy, I meant what I said about keeping you. There is a whole lot more fun I plan to have with you." He took a book from a drawer and wrote a few words in what Malik assumed was a Log book of some kind. After a few minutes, the captain put the book back in the drawer and moved toward the bunk again. "We will only stay in port while I conduct my business, probably little more than twenty-four hours. When we set sail again you will have much to learn to become a member of my crew. You will have to earn your keep." Shuaib gave him a particularly lecherous leer and 41
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Malik was under no illusion that while he would be expected to perform other duties as well, his first duty would be to service Shuaib. "If you don't work, you don't eat. That's lesson number three," the captain said as he walked through the door. **** They'd been at sea for a day. When the captain had returned from his visit ashore he had been in a particularly good mood and though he left Malik tied to the bed and unable to resist him, Shuaib acted almost as if Malik were a willing partner, caressing him and talking gently to him as he ploughed into him. After satisfying himself, Shuaib fell asleep half across Malik. Malik hated to feel the captain against his naked body and squirmed as much as he could to get the man to slide off him. When morning came, Shuaib clambered off the bed and unfastened Malik, his wrists as well as his ankles. Stiffly Malik sat up and rubbed his wrists, sucking in a breath as he irritated the abraded skin. He felt filthy and longed for a bath. The captain opened the door and shouted for someone to bring a bucket of water. Malik glanced at Shuaib, doubting very much if the captain was considering his comfort. When the water arrived Shuaib quickly sluiced himself, used a rough piece of cloth to dry off and then went to his seachest to get fresh clothes. "Please," Malik begged, hating to ask this man for anything, but he was terribly aware of the state of his body, streaked in come and blood. Malik desperately wanted to use 42
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the water that remained in the bucket. "Could I...? The water?" Shuaib glanced at him and nodded. Malik was on his knees in front of the bucket before he even realized he had moved. He got himself as clean as possible and it was only then that he understood that Shuaib had taught him another lesson: that everything he needed was only available at the captain's whim. As if to press home the point, Shuaib threw a bundle of clothing at him. "Put those on then get yourself to the galley and bring me some breakfast. You have ten minutes." Shuaib did not say anything else; Malik knew the inherent threat in the instructions: if he was late returning he would be punished. He pulled on the clothes, noting absently how different they were from what he was used to. Both the pants and the blouse were loose in style though gathered at ankle and wrist, but he had no time to note more than that. He almost ran out of the door as he wasn't sure where the galley was on the Agha Din, refusing to acknowledge how ashamed he felt at obeying the captain's demand so readily. He was back in the captain's cabin with about thirty seconds to spare, helped by the fact that the ship's cook had a plate waiting for the captain. The cook shoved it into Malik's hand, gruffly calling him back. "Don't forget his coffee." He passed Malik a mug and when Malik nodded thankfully, the cook added, "And don't spill it, he don't like that." Malik was grateful for that small kindness. Malik's face still burned from some of the comments thrown in his direction by the crew as he hurried back to the 43
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cabin. Besides the total embarrassment he felt at the lewd remarks, the observations also started him wondering just how precarious his position really was. He had spent the last few days bemoaning his fate at the hands of Shuaib, but now the idea took root that he might find himself thrown to the crew and the idea horrified him as much as it terrified him. But there was no way he could broach the subject with the captain and the truth was he was afraid of the answer. He decided he would find a way to throw himself overboard before he would let that happen to him. "Are you listening to me, boy?" the captain snapped at him and as Malik lifted his eyes to meet the captain's, he realized that in his preoccupation he hadn't heard what Shuaib had said. He thought it safer not to answer and just to wait for him to repeat what he wanted. Shuaib's lips thinned, but all he said was, "Go to the galley and get yourself some food. Then report to Nasir, my first mate. Tell him I sent you to learn how to earn your keep." Malik was almost surprised to discover that he really was hungry and he rushed back to the galley hoping there was still some hot food left. As he stepped inside, the cook turned and glanced at him. "Ah, he let you come back. Good. I kept a plate for you, just in case." "Thank you." Malik was overwhelmed at the simple kindness, the first shown to him since his capture. "You can sit over there." The cook pointed to a corner out of the way and Malik gratefully sank down and ate from his own plate. In the last few days Malik had only been allowed to 44
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eat any leftovers on the captain's plate and there hadn't been much. "Here," the cook said, handing him a mug filled with strong thick coffee. "I don't know how to thank you," Malik said breathlessly. "You don't owe me thanks, you're part of the crew now and I feed the crew." "I'm grateful all the same," Malik said firmly. "I'm Malik," he added. "They call me Ferran," the cook said. He looked uncertain for a moment and then moved to stand directly before Malik. "I've learned to obey the captain but that doesn't mean I like everything he does. He is successful, captures many prizes and as far as the crew is concerned that makes him a good captain. But, what he does to men like you? That I don't like." Malik looked at the man not sure what exactly he meant. "You don't approve of rape or you don't approve of him taking a man?" he asked carefully. Ferran barked a laugh. "I don't care who he does it with, just so t'other party is willing." Lowering his voice, Ferran continued, "He don't do it just for the sex either, he likes the violence too, more maybe." Malik nodded. Then he frowned, staring at the cook. "What?" Ferran queried. "Why would you care if the other party was willing or not?" Malik asked. "I mean you are..." He stopped. "I am a slaver," Ferran finished for him. "I am now, but that doesn't mean it was a free choice." Malik frowned, confused. 45
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Ferran shrugged. "Ferran is not my real name. When they found out I could cook, the pirates started to call me Ferran and it stuck. I was captured about four years ago and I took what seemed the 'easy' option of joining the crew rather being sold in Bougie." He sighed. "Never been sure if I made the right choice but this is my life now and I have to make the best of it." "I'm sorry," Malik said, not knowing what else he could offer. "You better get back," Ferran said quickly, turning back to his work. "I'm not to go back yet. He told me to see Nasir, about earning my keep." "He'll be up on the command deck. Tall fellow, about my age," Ferran said, and studying him Malik guessed he was about thirty. "Nasir always wears dark blue pants with a blue and gold sash. You do what he says, he's free with his rope's end otherwise." Malik turned to leave, suddenly turning back to ask, "What is your real name?" Ferran smiled. "Ferdinand." "Ah, I guess it kind of makes sense then, what the crew called you. I did wonder at the 'coincidence' of the cook's name being 'baker'." Ferran grinned and as Malik headed for the door, Ferran called after him, "I always got time for a word, if you need an ear." "I'll remember that, and thanks." "Off with you." 46
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Malik smiled as he went back up on deck, feeling a little more human. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Six The next few months were hell on earth. Malik was worked hard by Nasir, the first mate, who regularly hit him with a rope's end every time he made a mistake, which was frequently at first since he had no idea how to be a sailor. Not surprisingly, Malik learned quickly. The ship he was now expected to crew was known as an Xebec. Malik discovered its sleek design made it faster and more manoeuvrable than its European counterparts. The long narrow hull with its overhanging front and rear decks cut through the water like a knife. The vessel's shallow draft allowed it to skirt certain reefs to escape pursuers and to anchor in hidden shallow bays. Malik studied the three great triangular sheets of painted canvass. He'd been told they were called lanteen sails. They were controlled very differently from the method Malik had witnessed as a passenger on the English ship. An Xebec had no need of shrouds, the web-like rope assembly that enabled the English sailors to clamber to the very top of the squarerigged sails. The only way to reach the top of a lanteen sail in full rig was to climb the ropes that were attached at various intervals along the top spar holding the huge sails, the other end of which was lashed to the deck. Malik was relieved to learn, however, that the tension on those ropes was maintained by a series of sturdy blocks and tackles set at strategic intervals on the various lines and were mostly controlled from the deck. 48
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Malik was grateful that the practice of using banks of slaves to row the Xebecs of the Barbary pirates had been abandoned the previous century due to progress in ship design, brought to the Ottoman's by European deserters in search of adventure and wealth. Now the rowing benches had been replaced by cannons. There were varying sizes of Xebec with different functions in the Ottoman Empire. The Agha Din was a medium sized vessel ideal for harrying the foreign merchant and passenger ships, and taking cargo and slaves, for which she carried a complement of twenty-four guns. Malik was expected to learn every aspect of being a sailor on this vessel and he didn't have the slightest idea of how to do any of it. Even though he had grown up in a port, Malik had never been particularly interested in the sea, other than as a method of transport—as a passenger, not a crew member. The first mate, Nasir, had no interest in his past, and little in his present position as the captain's 'bed warmer' as Nasir occasionally termed it. All he cared about was obeying his captain and turning Malik into a sailor. Nasir worked him hard and Malik soon realized that he had led a life of luxury, something he had never really appreciated until he was forced into physical labour for which he was not prepared or fit enough. He had always considered himself in good physical condition but he soon reconsidered that opinion. The other pirates laughed at his sorry attempts to learn the many new skills he was expected to master, showing little sympathy for the blisters he developed on his hands or the numerous cuts and bruises; never mind that he pulled muscles he didn't even know he had. Nasir, however, 49
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found no amusement in his incompetence and punished him regularly. Between Nasir's teaching methods and Shuaib's hospitality Malik spent most of his days and nights hurting. However, Malik was deeply grateful that the captain was not of a mind to share. That had been his abiding fear in the first few weeks: that Shuaib would tire of him and pass him to the crew. Apparently, Malik was considered part of the captain's share and belonged to no one but him. His disposition was solely the captain's prerogative and Shuaib didn't like to share. Though he was expected to spend his daytime hours working under Nasir's direction, on occasion Malik would receive a summons to attend the captain's cabin. There was no particular pattern to the commands and, with a quick glance at Nasir so the mate was aware that he was leaving his duty, Malik had no choice but to obey. On rare occasions during the day, Shuaib would want Malik to service him using his hands or his mouth, but usually the captain would simply want Malik to run an errand for him, or to serve his food or clean up his cabin, though Malik was painfully aware of the man's eyes following his every move. However, no matter what his days entailed, Malik always had to return to the captain's cabin every night where he was forced to submit to his captor's sexual demands of one kind or another. Sometimes the man would be very rough and it was little more than brutal rape, other times he would be gentler, speaking to Malik as though he was his willing partner. Malik soon learned just to grit his teeth and bear 50
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whatever the man demanded; trying to resist only resulted in a beating before the man took his pleasure anyway. It was a rare night Malik would be allowed to sleep in peace. At first he had clung to his dreams of Robert but during this relentless torture, his love for Robert eroded and was replaced by bitterness and twisted jealousy at his good fortune in escaping, even if it had only been to a watery death. Sometimes, though, in the early hours when his fury gave way to despair and desire for it all to be over, he knew he was being unjust. He had seen Robert forcibly taken away by his protector, and Malik recognized that Aram had known he could not possibly reach Malik and that to stay would only have doomed them all. At those times, Malik could only wish that Robert was somewhere safe, and his ignorance of the fate of his erstwhile lover was yet another torture. One night when Malik returned to the cabin, Shuaib was in a temper. The captain was a moody person at the best of times. Keeping out of his way, Malik got ready for bed and abruptly the captain left the cabin. Malik sighed in relief, thinking perhaps Shuaib wouldn't return until the morning and he would have a night of peace. But, it wasn't to be. Malik tossed back and forth on the bunk, totally unable to settle and he was afraid to think about why. That was when he felt the hand moving under the blanket, sliding along his flank and reaching over to caress his lower back. Malik had not even known the captain had returned and he suddenly felt very afraid. 51
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Malik squirmed to try and turn over but the hand fell heavily on the rise of his ass, holding him steady as a rough voice ordered, "Stay still. I want you like this." Panic slid through Malik; he knew that tone of voice, that glint in the captain's eye. It was more than simple anger; Shuaib was furious but it was with himself. Another of the captain's vices was that he liked to play games of chance, though from comments Malik had overheard, Shuaib wasn't a very good at it, and he hated to lose. Malik had seen him like this once before after he had gambled away a diamond pendant he'd taken from a female prisoner. With a harsh laugh the captain pulled off the scratchy blanket that had slid half off the bed already, exposing the nude young man to his rapacious stare. Malik was forbidden to wear clothing to bed. "Never tire of looking at you boy, sight for my sore eyes you are. Right to keep you I was, knew it. Nothing better than something young and pliable to plough." Captain Shuaib guffawed at his own crude words, adding, "and even better when they ain't willing." Malik tried again to turn over, hoping to shove off the older man. He ought to have known better. He'd been at this monster's mercy for months now and he'd never been able to escape the man's basest desires. Shuaib growled at him and cuffed him hard across the side of the head and Malik groaned as he collapsed back on the bed, his head ringing from the blow. "Any more of that and I'll tie you down again," the captain roared. Then he gave an unholy smile and added, "I might do that anyway, not in the mood to fight you tonight." Shuaib 52
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quickly shrugged out of his clothing dropping it onto the floor where he stood. "Please, don't..." "Please don't what? You whore! Not learned yet that's all you are, all you'll ever be? My whore, whenever, wherever I want you. However I want you." Shuaib laughed again as he lay over Malik's bruised body. As silent tears slid down his cheeks, all Malik could think of was that he knew the true meaning of slavery. He was nothing, just a vessel for this man's pleasure. "You're mine, boy, and the sooner you learn your place the better," Shuaib said, slapping his face. "I've been far too easy on you. I'll show you that you're mine!" he snarled, shoving Malik's legs as wide as possible. Shuaib took him so brutally that night that he could hardly walk the next morning and that day was pure torture for him. Nasir did not let up on him because of his pain. The mate seemed to keep an even closer eye on Malik, watching like a hawk as he struggled to carry out each duty assigned to him. Malik was so low in spirits he seriously considered throwing himself overboard, but in the end his stubbornness won out; he would not let the bastards know they had defeated him. But still, eventually he learned all his lessons. The sum of which was that anyone could be terrorised into obedience. He learned that very well. It was a hard lesson but he knew the only chance he had to survive the life he'd been forced to endure was to become as brutal as they were. It took him a long time but he learned to be a good sailor—and eventually a good slaver. 53
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Chapter Seven January, 1767 It was almost a shock when Malik realized he had been on the Agha Din for over a year. They had returned to port about half a dozen times during that year, but always to Bougie. For a time Malik had nursed the possibility that the ship would put into Tripoli and he devised various outlandish plans to escape and return to Robert—until reality reared its ugly head. Escape was impossible because the new crewmembers were locked away below decks until they were considered assimilated into their new roles. That hadn't happened with Malik and Shuaib and Nasir both knew that. Besides that somewhat insurmountable problem, Malik couldn't stomach the idea of facing Robert and confessing to him how soiled Malik now was. Malik doubted that he would ever again enjoy being in a man's arms, that he would ever again find pleasure or fulfilment with a man. What happened with Shuaib was as far from an act of love as it was possible to imagine and Malik hated the way he felt when the captain touched him. The rapes were bad enough, but it was so much worse when Captain Shuaib was in a mood to be affectionate, pretending a tenderness he was incapable of and which sickened Malik. Shuaib's behaviour at those times was abhorrent to Malik. As crazy as it sounded, when Shuaib was in that mood Malik desperately wanted the brutal rapist to return. At least that person Malik understood. 55
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Slowly, Malik let go of the dream of ever seeing Robert again, let alone ever experiencing the joy he had felt at making love with him. It would be better, he decided, if they never saw each other again. Yet now, months later and thoughts about Robert still flitted through his mind as Malik stood on the deck of the Agha Din ready, as were the rest of the crew, for the coming attack. Nasir had eventually found something on board the ship that Malik was particularly good at, and no one was more surprised than Malik that he proved to be so efficient at handling the ship's cannon. Nasir drummed into him the systematic routine necessary for a group of men to meld into an efficient team when it turned out that Malik had the natural talent as a perfect marksman. When he first realized he found something he could do well, Malik was both pleased and relieved. For once, Nasir had no complaints to make; the first mate was in fact happy with him and only offered encouragement, not the rope's end. Considering it was the first time in months Malik had received anything remotely positive, he reacted in a predicable manner and tried to prove just how good he was. The captain came to observe his target practice too and displayed an almost possessive attitude to Malik's success. It was also the first time that Captain Shuaib gave any indication he saw Malik as a sailor, a crewmember, and not just his bed slave. "Excellent work, Nasir," Shuaib said and then he glanced to Malik as he continued, "you have taught Malik his lessons well. He will more than earn his keep on a gun crew." 56
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The captain's acceptance of Nasir's training satisfied the first mate and Nasir eased up on his treatment of Malik. Malik did still feel the rope's end occasionally, but it was much less frequent and, as Nasir was not averse to using the rope on other crewmembers from time to time, Malik didn't feel quite so singled out any more. It was only later that Malik recognised that was the first time he really felt like a member of the crew on the Agha Din. That was something he never would have believed he could feel good about and he was surprised that he did. It wasn't until the early hours of the next morning when reality struck Malik with the power of a sledgehammer. He realized he would be called upon to use his newly found talent on his own countrymen and he was shaken to the core. How could he have forgotten—no, had never even given a thought to how he would be using the guns he was so proud of aiming so well. He spent the last few days mulling over what he could do and now he had run out of time. That morning the look-out had spotted a target vessel on the horizon and the Agha Din went to full sail to catch the larger, lumbering vessel. Malik stood with the rest of his gun crew, waiting to take part in his first battle, and he knew from Nasir's comments that he was expected to use his skill to help damage the merchantman. Then she would be easy pickings for the Corsair crew. Malik had seriously thought about simply refusing to perform. However, he wanted to give the other ship a chance somehow and if he refused the first thing Shuaib would do would be to replace him; he would face his captain's wrath later. He knew 57
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there was no way to avoid a beating, but he thought perhaps he could give the other ship a ghost of a chance first if he could somehow allow the ship time to make a get away. The cannon he helped to fire was only one of six that would come to bear on the merchantman and Malik knew his chances of helping were slim, but he felt he had to try and do something. As the ship came into range, the order was given to aim on the up-roll. Malik's cannon was in the centre of the line of guns and his cannonball should hit amidships. He held the tip of the fuse just above the touchhole and, watching carefully, he lit it when he thought the time was right. His shot was too high and shredded a sail instead of slamming into the hull. Nasir moved swiftly toward Malik's cannon. The first mate frowned but said nothing, watching as the cannon was manhandled back into place and reloaded. Again, Malik took aim. The merchantman was nearer now, a larger target and Malik knew he was fast running out of time. Again he waited until the ship was lifted too high on the swell to hit the intended target. As the sails were again shredded, Nasir grabbed a hold of Malik's hair and yanked him backwards, yelling for Jabbar to take over. Shuaib was there in an instant, ordering, "Take him to my cabin!" He didn't say anything else at the time, immediately returning to giving his crew orders to fire again, but it was clear Nasir needed no further instruction. Still holding Malik by his hair, Nasir dragged him across the deck, Malik struggling all the time. The sound of rapid cannon fire beat at his ears. His efforts had been useless. 58
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As they reached the steps leading to the lower levels, Nasir swung Malik to face him and thrusting a small, but very sharp knife under his chin, he growled, "I'm so close to using this on you. If I didn't know how much the captain wants you for himself..." Malik suppressed a shudder at Nasir's words, but had no time to consider the implication any further as the first mate brutally twisted Malik's right arm behind his back, forcing him to walk ahead to the captain's cabin. Nasir kicked the door open and shoved Malik inside, still keeping a tight grip on Malik's arm and he cried out as his shoulder was wrenched. Nasir grabbed a length of rope that had been tossed over the back of a chair and lashed Malik's wrists together. Nasir tugged the captain's seachest over and told Malik to climb up. Resignedly, Malik did as he was told. Malik felt the pain in his shoulders as Nasir roughly manhandled his wrists over the ceiling hook before yanking the chest from underneath Malik's feet and Malik cried out as the pain in his shoulders doubled. "Make yourself as comfortable as you can." Nasir regarded Malik coldly as he added, "The captain will be here to keep you company soon." There was no way he could take the weight off his arms and he panted, trying to control his reaction to the pain. He tried to take his mind off the situation by listening to what happened above. The cannon fired a few more shots and then there was a definite slam as the two ships finally collided. Malik could see the scene in his mind's eye as the grappling hooks held the vessels together and the pirates swarmed aboard their victim. Malik heard the shouts of the pirate crew 59
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as they met the English sailors in hand to hand fighting; the thump of pistol fire and the ring of steel on steel, the angry shouts of the sailors defending their ship amidst the cries and shrieks of passengers fearing for their lives and freedom. It was all too familiar for Malik, reminding him so clearly of that day a year ago when his life had fallen apart. He'd thought he was past that, that it was no more than a memory; that his emotions had been buried long since, but he discovered as he listened to the sounds that it wasn't buried at all, it had just been lurking under the surface. His pain was no less, his desire to see Robert again as vital. He dropped his chin to his chest, his eyes closing as if to shut out the pictures that played constantly behind his eyes. He felt like he wanted to cry but he no longer had any tears left to shed. He realized that the fighting had stopped. The only sound he could hear now was the drone of someone speaking and he imagined Shuaib swaggering up and down the line of the captives, lecturing them on the future they faced. Captain Shuaib was the kind of man who revelled in the power he held over poor unfortunates. The door opened and Shuaib stood there staring at him, anger shimmering in his eyes. Malik had begun to hope perhaps the success of the attack might mellow the captain's mood but obviously he was mistaken. "I really thought you had learned all your lessons, but you tricked me." Shuaib shut the door and it was only then that Malik saw he carried a cat o'nine tails. Malik had seen one used on a sailor on his journey to England and after watching 60
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the multi-tailed whip slice open a man's back it wasn't something he'd ever wanted to witness again. It certainly hadn't been something he had ever expected to experience. Shuaib slapped the whip against his booted leg and Malik jerked in response. Shuaib smiled. "I don't like being made to look a fool." Shuaib flicked the whip languidly; it landed on Malik's hip and he yelped. Malik was no fool. He knew that blow had only been a warning; he also knew Shuaib had only just begun. For the first time, Malik wondered if Shuaib was going to kill him. "You need to be reminded of lesson number one. What was lesson number one, Malik?" As he asked the question he flicked the whip again, harder this time and at Malik's back. Through gritted teeth, Malik answered, "Learn my place." "That's right," Shuaib said. "And that means doing what I say, when I say. It doesn't mean doing what you want!" He laid the whip on with force now and Malik couldn't stop the cries forced out with each strike. After the sixth hit, Malik begun to feel faint; by the eighth blow everything was fading and he lost count. Then he knew no more. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Eight Malik returned to consciousness and he fervently wished he hadn't. His back was on fire and the first thing he saw was the cat o'nine swinging loosely from the captain's fingers as Shuaib sat on his bunk. Malik realized he was lying on his side on the floor. His hands were still tied in front of him. Malik knew his punishment wasn't over; he just had no idea what else Shuaib might have in mind for him. He might have been Shuaib's slave for a year but he still didn't feel he really knew the man. "You endure a beating well," Shuaib began, "but, I'm not blind to how much you hate being taken." Shuaib smiled but it wasn't a pleasant sight. "How do you feel at being fucked by every man in the crew?" Shuaib asked almost conversationally, and Malik felt a cold lump form in his stomach to steal the breath from his body. "I would enjoy watching that," Shuaib continued, "but I doubt very much if you would survive a hundred and thirty men. It'd be a shame, I'd miss you; you're such a good fuck." The captain rose and stood looking down at Malik, his expression malevolent. "You have a choice. Obey me implicitly and live, or you can choose to die. I can't imagine you would enjoy being fucked to death!" Malik had felt the blood drain from his face at the captain's threat and he knew it was no idle one. He shuddered as he replayed the words in his mind. Oh God! 62
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Shuaib threw open his cabin door and yelled for Nasir. The mate must have been waiting for his call, as he momentarily appeared in the doorway. "Take him to the forward hold and lock him up while he makes his choice," the captain ordered. Nasir grabbed a hold of Malik's bound wrists and pulled him up. Malik cried out at the feel of hot irons digging into his back but Nasir ignored him and yanked harder. Malik stumbled, falling against the first mate and Nasir shoved him off. Malik was led along a short passage way and then down into the lower depths to the forward hold where Malik knew there was a small cell. Malik had only ever known it to be used once, when one of the captive sailors who had sworn himself to the Corsairs had tried to escape when they docked at Bougie. He had been caught and locked up until they were out at sea again and then Shuaib had him brought up on deck where the man, who was still wearing chains on his wrists and ankles, had been thrown overboard. As Malik was shoved into the cell, he wished his choice of death was as clean as that poor sailor. Nasir took a set of chains from where they hung on a hook on the wall and placed one set on Malik's already abraded wrists. Malik's ankles were then linked together and the chain fixed to a ring driven into the decking. All the time Nasir hadn't said a word to Malik but as he locked the door to the cell, he looked at Malik with a look of pure derision. "Did you really think you could get away with that? That we are such fools? It is you who are the fool." He turned to leave. 63
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"I know," Malik said softly, but Nasir must have heard for he stopped for a second before continuing on his way. **** It was very dark and dank in his small cell and no matter how Malik tried to sit his back was agony. Even the remnants of his shirt, stuck to the welts on his back by his own blood, pulled his damaged flesh as he moved. Nasir hadn't left him a candle and the only light source was at the far end of the hold where the door had been left open. Malik was grateful for that tiny bit of dim light and for the occasional waft of vaguely fresher air that he could almost taste. Shortly after Nasir had left him, other members of the crew began to appear, loaded down with the cargo from their captured ship, which they began to stow on the other side of the hold from his cell. Most of the men ignored him but a couple spat at him and one cursed him quite volubly in a language Malik didn't recognise. More noise assailed Malik's ears but it was muted and he had to strain to hear. He welcomed anything that might help take his mind off his pain. He soon understood that the male prisoners were being brought down the steep steps and herded along the narrow corridor towards the aft hold, where they would be kept until the ship made port. The female prisoners would be locked up in one of the officer's cabins near to the captain's. One of the prisoners remonstrated loudly at being shoved into what he termed a rat infested hole. By his tone of voice, 64
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he was an upper class Englishman and Malik wasn't surprised that the man was spared the rope's end and received no more than a tongue lashing from Nasir. A rich prisoner was more malleable if he received fair treatment—and more valuable if he believed he could gain his freedom unharmed. Malik regretted he had been unable to help these men but as the door to the forward hold finally closed after all the cargo had been transferred to the hold, all his thoughts returned to his own dire predicament. When he had calmly planned to throw himself overboard if the captain tired of him and passed him over for the crew to use, it had seemed a simple, if not easy, choice. Now, however, faced with the reality of it as an all too real punishment, Malik despaired of his choices. He could never escape, and the option of a quick end no longer existed for him. If he didn't capitulate to the captain's wishes and obey him in everything, including manning the cannon to his fullest ability, he would meet a horrible death. He didn't fool himself that it wouldn't be rape of the most brutal kind imaginable, far less sexual and much more purely violent and he would pray to die before his moment finally came. Malik considered himself as brave as the next man. Even Shuaib had called him strong, but alone in the dark he was also honest enough to admit how very afraid he was. He felt physically sick and unable to stop tears sliding down his cheeks. He had thought not so long ago that he had no more tears left; he had been very wrong. He learned something else about himself in the dark silence of his cell. He had entertained the idea of dying as an 65
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abstract, but now he faced the terrible reality and he learned he was not only afraid to die, but that he wanted so much to live. He was shocked to realize it, but even in his present life as nothing more than a maltreated slave, it was true. There was truth too in the saying that where there's life there's hope. Who knew what might happen in the future? In a day, a month, a year? But to live for even one more day, Malik would have to agree to obey the captain, fire on hapless ships, kill, injure and capture others just like himself. He shook his head, rubbing at his face to wipe away the tears. He had no right to cry for himself when he knew what he was going to do, going to become. He had to be honest with himself if no one else. He was terrified of the captain's threat and besides, he wanted to live. He wasn't as strong as he thought; he was a moral coward. Another lesson. God, how many more lessons must I learn? The hours passed slowly as Malik waited for someone to come, to demand his answer. He had no sense of time in the perpetual darkness of the hold and he had no idea how long he had been locked up. Hours? Days? He was very tired, aching and longing to rest, but he was afraid to lie down on the deck he couldn't see. His back was a mess of open wounds and he knew enough about disease to know that lying in filth and damp would likely make him ill. He wondered for a while if he was already ill, if perhaps he was losing his mind, for why else would he worry now about becoming ill? It was the least of his problems. He felt lightheaded and realized he couldn't remember when last he'd eaten, or had water to drink. He knew, though, that the 66
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sounds he heard were all too real, tiny scampering feet and distant chattering noises. He screamed when he felt something touch his feet, something cold and persistent. He jerked and shook his feet, shouting, and the sounds silenced abruptly. He huddled back against the wall, the pain in his back suddenly secondary to the terror of what else lived in the damp dark place. He pulled his feet in, the chain clanking noisily, wrapping his arms around his knees, praying they would come for him soon. He wondered if it was imagination or if he really could see all those tiny eyes staring at him. Malik shuddered. He considered that perhaps Shuaib had decided to leave him to die alone in the dark but then he laughed harshly. That would be too easy; the captain would never let him die an easy death. He frowned then, remembering hearing somewhere that dying of thirst was terribly painful. Would the captain let him die of thirst? In answer to his unspoken question, the door to the hold opened and Malik squinted in the sudden light. Someone approached but all Malik could see was the glare from the lantern and he had to raise a hand to shade his eyes. He might not be able to see but Malik knew who it was just the same. Only Shuaib walked with that particular heavy gait, as if to announce his arrival in advance; and only the captain liked to wear perfume. He didn't use it often, usually when he was in a particularly good mood; unfortunately a good mood for Shuaib usually ended badly for Malik as the captain 67
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wanted to indulge himself in every way possible. Malik hated that perfume. The lantern moved as Shuaib lowered it to his side and Malik could see the captain's face. He looked calm as he stared at Malik. "Have you decided?" Shuaib asked. The captain sounded smug and Malik realized that Shuaib had known Malik never really had a choice. "Yes," Malik replied sullenly, dropping his eyes. "I will obey your commands." "In everything?" Shuaib said sharply, his tone making Malik look up at him. "Yes, Captain. In everything." Shuaib held his gaze, telling him silently that there would be severe consequences to pay if he ever went back on his word. Malik forced himself to meet his eyes. The captain turned toward the still open door and called, "Ferran!" As soon as the cook appeared the captain tossed him the keys to Malik's chains and ordered Ferran to see to Malik's back. His attention back on Malik again, the captain added, "As soon as you are bandaged and fit for duty, report to Nasir." "Yes, Sir," said Malik, grateful at least for this small mercy. As soon as the captain left, Ferran knelt beside Malik and began to unlock his bindings. "You were a fool, Malik. You must have known you could never win." "I suppose I did, but I couldn't ... Surely you understand? I just couldn't attack my own people. I had to at least try, and 68
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believe me, I know how naïve that must sound." Malik sighed. "Now, I have no choice." "You never did," Ferran said brusquely. "Come, let me clean those wounds and put some salve on them. And be careful around Nasir, he will be watching you like a hawk." Ferran smiled kindly. "Your back can't take any more punishment." Malik tried to return the smile but it felt more like a grimace and he shrugged at Ferran. The cook had been one of the few men on board to treat him with more than tolerance. He was the nearest thing to a friend Malik had and he didn't think he'd ever shown the man his appreciation. Ferran went to the door and from the corridor outside he retrieved a bucket of water, some rags and a small jar. When he returned to the cell he moved behind Malik and, dipping one of the rags in the water, he used it soften the scraps of shirt still stuck to Malik's back. Malik couldn't help but arch away from the contact, his breath hissing between his clenched teeth. "I'm sorry," Ferran said, "Try to bear it while I get this material off." "Water's warm," Malik gritted out. "Yes, knew I'd need it," Ferran said. "Thank you for at least caring for this stupid fool," Malik said gruffly. "I understand more than you think," Ferran said. "I can't tell you how grateful I was that they needed a cook and I had a little experience. I manage to keep out of the fighting, mostly. If it's all hands on deck then I have no choice, but 69
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otherwise I keep to my galley. I have no more wish to attack my own people than you do." "Who exactly are your people?" Malik asked. Ferran had removed the material by now and was carefully washing Malik's back and the warm water felt wonderful. "My family is from Spain but I had been working in Gibraltar for a year or so. I accepted a friend's offer to spend a few days on the island of Minorca. It turned out to be a terrible misstep; we were attacked. My friend was killed and here I am." Ferran's gentle hands began to apply the salve and Malik felt himself drifting. After being in pain for so long, the kind ministrations were a tremendous relief. "You mustn't fall asleep here," Ferran said sharply and Malik jerked awake. "I didn't mean ... It just felt so soothing." "You need to rest but not down here. Come, let's get you to bed for a while." "Not to the captain's cabin, please?" Malik begged, panic flowing through him. Ferran sighed. "I'll do what I can. I'll take you to my bunk for now. It's behind the galley; you should be left alone there. If the captain or Nasir ask, I'll tell them you are too injured to work just yet. I can't promise but..." "Thank you," Malik interrupted. "I owe you for this." "No, you don't," Ferran said softly. "It's good to be reminded that somewhere inside I'm still human." [Back to Table of Contents] 70
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Chapter Nine March, 1768 Malik stood by the rail, staring out to the horizon. He was very conflicted. He felt wonderfully free and terribly guilty because of it. He was no longer Shuaib's sex slave, but that was because after two years the captain had found a new toy to play with. There had been a young man among the passengers on the last ship they had attacked. He had been a year or so younger than Malik, with pale skin, bright blue eyes and hair the colour of straw. Shuaib had been intrigued by him and he had dragged him from the deck and to his cabin almost immediately he saw him. Malik knew all too well what the young man faced and was shamed that his first reaction was a feeling of utter joy at his own release. Piling on the guilt was the knowledge that one of his cannon balls had slammed into the passenger ship just below the water line, the final death nail in the already damaged ship. There had been some hand-to-hand fighting on the ship's deck but the vessel was already doomed and Malik had a direct hand in that destruction. Knowing that he had no choice hadn't stopped Malik feeling his culpability and when the captain found his replacement among the captives, Malik felt his responsibility weighing him down. A short time later he assisted in the movement of the new captives below decks when he heard cries coming from the captain's cabin, and his stomach twisted at the thought of 71
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what that young man was going through. What he had yet to face. How could Malik feel anything but guilt at his own sense of freedom when another man was taking his place in hell? The sound of a dull thud was immediately followed by a heavy grunt and Malik had to get away from the source of his disquiet. He slipped away; for once Nasir was too involved with the prisoners to notice one missing man. Malik went up on deck, hoping the smell of the sea and the clear air would make him feel clean, but the signs of wreckage in the ship's wake only reminded him of his own involvement in the capture of the ship and the people on board: of the young man being tortured below. In his stead. Malik felt sick. A hand squeezed his shoulder and he looked up, not surprised to see Ferran looking back at him with sympathy in his expressive eyes. "It's not your fault," Ferran said quietly. "You know then?" Ferran laughed harshly. "The whole ship knows. Just the way the captain dragged the fellow off!" "I heard him, Ferran, below with the captain just now." Malik shuddered. He dropped his eyes, "And I felt so relieved it wasn't me any more." "And now you feel guilty," Ferran interpreted. "The only person to blame in all this is Shuaib. That lad is no more a victim than you were—are. Remember that. You are thinking that he's taken your place, but have you ever wondered whose place you took?" 72
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Malik stared at Ferran, his eyes wide. He truly had never given any thought that there had been someone before him but, of course, with a man like Shuaib there had to be. "Oh God, who was it? It wasn't..." Malik's eyes widened as he stared at Ferran. "Me? No. I'm too old for his tastes. That young man wasn't as lucky as you. He died before you were captured." "Died?" Malik whispered. "Shuaib beat him to death one night a few weeks before we came across your ship." "God!" "Think on that, Malik. You survived. Longer than any I've ever heard of." Malik's mouth dropped open in shock. "No, I don't mean they died," Ferran was quick to explain. "That lad was the only one Shuaib killed as far as I know. The others were just replaced when Captain Shuaib chose someone new. The point is: you are free of him now. As sorry as I am for this new one, it was his fate that brought him here and not yours. Your fate has set you free." Ferran smiled. "Well, as free as you can be on this ship." Malik laughed, but it had an hysterical edge to it. "Come, I've got some hot coffee on the stove," Ferran said. "I think we could both do with some." **** Malik's relief at his 'freedom' was short-lived. He was as much a prisoner on the Agha Din as he had ever been. He might no longer be tied to the captain's bed or locked in his 73
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cabin, but it seemed that there was always someone watching him. He had thought at first it was just the ever vigilant Nasir, but Malik felt that awareness of eyes on him even when Nasir was not on deck. It made him very uncomfortable. Though at times he wondered if it was all just his imagination. It was almost a relief one day when Nasir ordered him to the cable tier to restack some of the coils of rope that had become dislodged in rough weather the night before. At least he would be alone for a while, away from however many prying eyes seemed to follow him everywhere. Malik had been working for about twenty minutes when he heard a noise behind him. He turned and saw Jabbar standing just a couple of feet from him. By his stance and the look of annoyance on his face, Malik knew that man had been attempting to sneak up on him. Malik had tended to avoid Jabbar's company as much as possible; he had never been able to forget his treatment at Jabbar's hands when he had first been stripped and strung up in the captain's cabin. Jabbar had enjoyed his predicament far too much and Malik had always believed that Jabbar would have cheerfully raped him if that hadn't been the captain's prerogative. Now, watching Jabbar, Malik had sudden insight into his intention. Malik knew he was at a disadvantage. Jabbar had caught him alone in a small cluttered space and the man was between Malik and the only exit. Also, as usual, Jabbar had his long knife stuck through his sash. Malik was unarmed. Not that that mattered, he thought grimly, because no way was Malik going to let this man have him. 74
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Jabbar watched Malik intently, probably making a fair guess at the thoughts going through Malik's head. Malik did the only thing he could, he watched and waited. Jabbar would have to make the first move. Abruptly Jabbar smiled, though with two missing teeth from where a cutlass pommel had slammed into his face it wasn't a pleasant sight. "Well," Jabbar began, "you're not so special now are you? Now the captain has found someone better, you're up for grabs and guess who is first in line?" Jabbar took a step forward, one hand on the haft of his knife. Keeping surprisingly calm, Malik drew himself to his full height. "No! Captain Shuaib may have released me to normal ship's duty," Malik said with distaste, "but he has not handed me over to his crew. I'm as much his as I ever was." Jabbar, of course, had no idea that Malik meant he had never considered that he belonged to the captain and never would. Malik actually stepped nearer to Jabbar as he went on, "You will never touch me," Malik said scathingly. With a sound half-way between a snarl and laugh, Jabbar leapt at Malik but Malik was ready for him and blocked the move even as he twisted aside. Immediately Jabbar went for his knife, smiling as he brandished it in front of Malik's face. Jabbar feinted to the right and as Malik moved to meet him Jabbar thrust towards Malik's left. Only his speed saved Malik from being cut as the blade caught the wide sleeve of Malik's blouse. Anger and fear gave Malik a strength he didn't know he possessed as he grappled with Jabbar, both men's hands on the haft of the knife. Jabbar cursed him as he abruptly 75
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removed one hand from his knife to grasp Malik by the throat, squeezing. Malik knew he couldn't afford to let go of the knife to try and get Jabbar's hand from his throat, it would be all the opportunity the more experienced man needed to overpower him. Yet Malik was well aware of the risk of passing out if Jabbar increased pressure on his throat. Using all his strength, Malik forced their joined hands backwards, twisting as he did so, forcing the blade towards Jabbar's inner arm until the tip of the blade pierced the skin; and with a yelp Jabbar let go of the knife. At the same moment, Malik kicked with all his might at the back of one of Jabbar's knees and the pirate's leg gave out underneath him. He fell, dragging Malik with him as Jabbar still hadn't let go of Malik's throat. They landed with Malik half under Jabbar and the pirate snarled his anger as he shifted his weight to give better purchase to his both hands which were now around Malik's neck. Suddenly Jabbar's eyes widened and he glanced down at his body. There pressed firmly against his tender and very exposed throat was his own knife. A very sharp knife honed to perfection by Jabbar. If anyone knew how easily it would slide into his throat it was Jabbar. "Back off," Malik said coldly, pressing just a fraction more with the knife and a tiny trickle of blood slid down the hollow of Jabbar's throat. Slowly the pirate released Malik and moved back to sit on his haunches, Malik following keeping the knife in close contact with Jabbar. 76
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"Get to your feet," Malik ordered. The knife hovering only a fraction of an inch from Jabbar's eyes, the pirate obeyed. "You ever try that again and I will kill you," Malik declared. The words were more chilling because he spoke with perfect calm. "Now get out." With one last hateful look at Malik, Jabbar turned to the exit but stopped after he had only gone a couple of steps. Malik followed his gaze to see Nasir leaning nonchalantly against the wall beside the open door, lending an unexpected splash of colour to the dull surroundings with the bright blue and gold sash. "Yes, Jabbar, get out and find someone willing," Nasir snapped. Jabbar bolted through the door. Malik stared at Nasir. "How long were you there?" he asked coldly. "Long enough to watch you handle yourself rather well." Nasir actually smiled. Malik frowned. "I don't understand you. I thought you were just like the captain, but..." he trailed off, not knowing how to put his confusion into words. If he didn't understand, how could he expect the first mate to? "I don't have to approve of the captain's personal ... choices to follow his commands." Nasir stood away from the wall but didn't move any closer. He smiled. "He lets me run the ship my way. He knows which ships to attack and which to let pass. He points the way, we capture the prey. He has good contacts in port and he gets a good cut for our cargo." Malik scowled at the cavalier description of the slaves. Nasir 77
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grinned and added quickly, "Whether it's on two feet or in bales and boxes he provides his crew with good prize money." Malik sighed in frustration. "Finish up in here," Nasir ordered. "Oh, and no one else will bother you again." With that he left. **** Malik hadn't been sure what Nasir's parting remark meant but he found out later when Ferran dished stew into his bowl. The cook smiled at him, and said, "I had reason to put some salve on a couple of cuts on Jabbar earlier. He tried to tell me he'd fallen and scratched himself. Hah! I know knife cuts when I see them." Malik said nothing. While he liked the idea of admitting it was he who had put this knife cuts into Jabbar's flesh, he had no wish to broadcast the fact that Jabbar had tried to rape him. Too many of the crew saw him as a target as it was. Ferran laughed. "Oh, the look on your face. Don't worry. Nasir made it known that it was Jabbar's own fault and that you are quite the expert with a knife." "He what?" Malik couldn't believe it. Ferran frowned. "What's wrong? That's good." "But ... but..." Malik glanced around but there was no one close. "I was hoping to keep it quiet. I don't want everyone knowing what he tried to do." "Yes, you do," Ferran said firmly. "You need them to know that you are off limits. And no better way to do it. Jabbar is one of the biggest bullies on board." 78
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Malik opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut. Ferran was right, and now he knew the meaning of Nasir's words in the cable tier. Malik wondered if he would ever understand the first mate. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Ten As the ship dropped anchor in Bougie, Malik's mind couldn't resist returning to the idea of escape again. If he were sensible he would admit it was a stupid idea. Even though he had more freedom now on the Corsair ship, what kind of freedom did he expect to find in one of the largest Corsair ports in the region? Most likely he would just get grabbed by another ship or perhaps worse end up being sold on the slave block, likely finding himself in an unenviable position. However, the idea was persistent. His thoughts were interrupted when Nasir called Malik over and ordered him to help Mujjid to unship the gangplank. It was at that moment that Shuaib came on deck, looking pleased with himself as he swaggered towards his first mate. "Everything in order, Captain?" Nasir queried. "Good, Nasir, very good. My guest," Shuaib said with a distinct leer, "is reasonably comfortable at the moment so you won't need to worry about him while I am ashore. I'll be back in about an hour. Get the prisoners ready to go ashore when I return." As Nasir acknowledged the order, Shuaib turned towards the gangplank and it was then that he saw Malik. The captain raised an eyebrow and angling his head as if studying Malik closely, he said, "I trust you are finding other useful ways to earn your keep." Malik struggled not to voice what he really felt. He just stood back to give the captain a clear path to the gangplank 80
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and Shuaib threw back his head and laughed. Inside Malik seethed that even now the man could hurt him. "Keep him busy, Nasir!" the captain called as he left the ship. As Malik made to turn away, Nasir blocked him and said quietly so they wouldn't be overheard, "It'll do you no good to dwell on it, it will just eat you up inside. Let it be." Inwardly, Malik was surprised at the man's insight. "You have proved yourself to me," Nasir went on, "You have earned your place on this crew and from now on you'll get a cut of any proceeds." Malik turned, anger flowing through him. "You think I want to take money for selling men and women into..." "Don't be a fool!" Nasir snapped. "This is your life now. You need to accept it. What you had, who you were; it is gone now. You belong to the Agha Din, an important part of its gun crew. Accept it!" Malik's mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but no words came. He stared at Nasir, feeling helpless. "Return to your duties," Nasir said brusquely. Slowly Malik turned and walked away, back to where he had been helping to repair the ropes. It was tedious, mindnumbing work, but as Malik's mind was a long way away and a long time in the past, it was just as well. Malik thought of the life he had led at home in Tripoli before his father had sent him to England. He remembered his time in the college, with Robert and the hopes they had for the future. They now seemed like naïve dreams to the man he had become. Malik felt a cold weight settle in his 81
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stomach as he finally accepted that he could never return to Robert now. He was no longer the man Robert had fallen in love with; that man had been destroyed as completely as if Shuaib had beaten him to death. He was as dead as that other poor young man whose name he didn't even know. It was almost a shock to realize he even felt too numb for tears. Then, a dead man couldn't cry, could he? He watched his own fingers as they worked deftly at the rope but he almost felt as if it were someone else's hands he watched. He felt so out of place. Or was it just that he was finding a new place? He thought of home, the crowded, sprawling city he had grown up in, chewing his lip as he wondered if even that was denied him now. Suddenly sensing he was being observed, Malik lifted his eyes and found Ferran watching him. The man leaned against the opposite rail, an empty pail in his hand and Malik guessed he had been throwing something over the side. Ferran smiled at him but Malik felt incapable of returning the friendly gesture. His face felt as if might crack if he attempted to smile, so instead he nodded to Ferran. The cook frowned a little, his gaze becoming more intense as he watched his friend. Malik became uncomfortable under the unrelenting stare. He was visibly startled when Nasir's voice boomed across the deck. "The captain's dinner won't get cooked if you stand around all day enjoying the breeze! Get below or you'll feel my rope's end!" 82
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Malik's gaze followed Ferran as he scuttled toward the galley, and just before he dropped out of sight, the cook winked at Malik and, surprisingly, Malik felt the knot in his stomach uncurl just a little. **** It was only a few minutes later that Malik saw Captain Shuaib walking up the gangplank. The instant the captain put his foot on the deck, Nasir called out the names of half-adozen crewmembers who were working on deck, Malik included. They all hurried to obey the first mate, following him below. Nasir sent two of the men off to the cabin where the three women prisoners were locked up. The rest of them went below to the hold where the male prisoners were incarcerated. The men were already wearing chains on their wrists and ankles and Nasir ordered Malik and Mujjid to rope the captives together. It made it easier to lead them through the streets of the city if the prisoners were all attached in single or double file, depending on how many captives they had taken. In this case, single file would be sufficient. Malik had never been called upon before to carry out this particular duty, and on the couple of occasions he glanced up while carrying out his orders, he found that Nasir was watching him. Malik was no fool and he understood that this was Nasir's way of showing him that he was no different from the rest of the sailors on board the Agha Din; he was a member of the crew with all that entailed and he needed to accept that fact. 83
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At Nasir's direction Malik grabbed a hold of the lead rope and took the captives out of their temporary prison, up through the ship and onto the deck. Malik's thoughts were dark as he led the men ... no, call them what they were ... the slaves to meet their fate. He glanced down at the rope wrapped around his hand and realized he had all the proof he needed lying quiescent in his hand. He had helped capture these people and now he sent them off to be sold. If that did not make him a slaver, then what did? **** Some hours later a very subdued Malik sat beside Ferran. It was early evening, shortly after they had eaten and both men were now off duty. They sat on the deck, leaning back against one of the cannons, watching the sky change colour. Still looking at the heavens, Ferran said, "You were very thoughtful earlier, what were you thinking about?" For a long moment Malik was silent until Ferran turned his gaze on his friend. "If you don't..." Ferran began but Malik's voice cut across him. "I was thinking over something Nasir had said to me. It was hard to admit that he was right," Malik said softly. "What did he say?" Ferran asked, also keeping his voice low. "Amongst other things, that everything I had before is gone. That this is my life now and I had to learn to accept it." "And have you?" 84
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"He was closer to the truth than even he knew," Malik said, ignoring Ferran's question. "I had a lover once, someone I cared for very much. I am so soiled now I could never..." Malik shuddered, imagining the horror on Robert's face if he knew the truth. If he knew how often and in how many ways Shuaib had used him. "He wouldn't want me now and I could never face him anyway." "Him?" Ferran whispered. Malik still didn't look at Ferran, his eyes lingering on the sky above, but he didn't see the sky as it turned a dusky violet. He saw a pair of warm brown eyes, distressed, closing, turning away from him. Or perhaps worse: full of remorse and pity for him. Malik couldn't stand to think of either circumstance. "I don't think I could bear the touch of a man anymore, not even Robert," Malik went on, his voice so low Ferran had to lean closer to hear him. "Give yourself time to heal," Ferran said, but Malik continued to talk, as if he hadn't even heard Ferran. "Nasir was right. Everything I had is gone. I don't have a home any longer either. My father died during my last year in England, though it was weeks before I got the news." Malik sighed, finally dropping his eyes to look at his hands twisting in his lap. "It's been almost three years now and with no sign of the legal claimant I imagine everything will have been seized by the Pasha." A terrible thought suddenly occurred to him and Malik's head shot up, his expression angry, eyes flashing as he finally looked at Ferran. 85
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"Or God forbid! My mother's family! My father made no secret of my parentage, but though my mother's family never acknowledged me, I wouldn't put it past the grasping pair of jackals to try and lay claim to their dear poor grandson's property." His voice was scathing. "I don't claim them as grandparents, nor that cousin that they claimed should have married my mother. As far as I am concerned I have no family!" As quickly as his anger came it disappeared, to be replaced by a deep sense of loss. "I have nothing left. No family, no home, no fortune. No one I have any right to lay claim to any longer. Nasir is right. All I have left is here and now. The life fate has forced me to live." "Do you not have family in England?" Ferran asked. Malik stared at him, a puzzled expression on his face. "I don't know. Father hadn't mentioned his family in a long time. To me, home has always been Tripoli. The only thing that made those last two years bearable in England was Robert," he added wistfully. "You're not alone, Malik. You have a friend," Ferran said carefully. "I am glad you finally understand, though I am sad for your losses." Ferran shrugged. "I didn't really lose so much. I did have family it is true, but I was a middle son; my older brother was my father's pride and my younger brother was my mother's joy. I had little prospect. And I had no one special. I think," Ferran hesitated. "I think perhaps you are the closest friend I have ever had." "Me?" Malik looked puzzled. "But, I ... we..." Malik took a breath, calming himself. He heard more in Ferran's words than he had actually said and Malik was concerned. He had no 86
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wish to damage the only friendship he had. "You have been good to me and I thank you for your generosity," Malik said carefully. "I just ... I hope you are not looking for anything more from me because..." "No, no, you misunderstand," Ferran interrupted, perhaps a little too quickly. "I simply wanted you to understand that you have a friend." He smiled. "You are not alone." Ferran made an abortive attempt to reach out towards Malik, before he drew his hand back, pushing it behind him against the cannon and levering himself to his feet. "I have preparations to make for the morning," Ferran said, brushing at his clothes. Malik noticed his hands shook ever so slightly and he seemed hesitant to leave no matter what he said. Malik stayed where he was, watching as Ferran walked away. He was unsure if he had misunderstood Ferran; if he was correct in thinking he had heard more than his friend intended. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the sky, somehow he felt he was on safer ground with the vastness overhead than the complexity of man's emotions. He laughed softly at his own pretension. Getting to his feet, Malik decided perhaps he ought to get some sleep. Perhaps only in his dreams could he leave this painful self-examination behind. **** Once he accepted that the man he had been had died as assuredly as Mr Holmes on that fateful day the pirates had attacked his ship, Malik threw himself wholeheartedly in his new life. He sought out Nasir the morning after his realization 87
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and told the first mate that he had been right. Nasir regarded him intently for a moment and then nodded. "You have made a good beginning in learning to be sailor but there is much more to learn," Nasir said. "There is a vast difference between forcing someone to learn and teaching a willing subject." "You sound like one of my old tutors," Malik said sullenly. Nasir just stared at him and, not for the first time, Malik wondered at the depths of this man. At first Nasir had merely seemed a cruel taskmaster who disliked him intensely and saw him as little more than a slave to be whipped into shape. Yet the more adept Malik had become, the more attentive and approachable Nasir had been. "Ali's eyesight is no longer as good as it used to be," Nasir continued, as if Malik hadn't interrupted, "and I need another navigator; I think that could be you. It's exacting work. You're an intelligent man and I believe you are up to it." Malik knew that Nasir offered him a chance to make something of this new life he had been forced into and he was rather taken aback. Nasir's recent change in attitude was a little difficult to accept, but there seemed to be an intensity to Nasir's focus on him that enticed Malik's belief in the man's sincerity. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Eleven Malik watched as Shuaib brought his new pet, Adam, on deck. Malik had never seen the young man's face since the day of his capture because he never lifted his chin. The first time Adam had ventured on deck after the ship had left Bougie been almost a duplicate of Malik's first trip to the galley. Adam had staggered across the deck on his way to collect food for the captain, his eyes never leaving the wooden planking. Ferran had told Malik afterwards that even as Adam took the plate of food from the cook he had never looked at him. This second time Malik saw Adam, Malik assumed the young man was too ashamed to meet anyone's eyes and Malik's heart was full of pity for Adam. Shuaib had put a leather collar around his neck and locked it with a small padlock. To this collar he had attached a leather leash by which he led Adam around. Malik was puzzled by the captain's action: not in putting the leash on Adam, as Shuaib's cruelty knew no bounds and it didn't surprise Malik at all that he would enjoy yet another kind of debasement. No, what puzzled Malik was the captain's reason for parading Adam around; he seemed to have no particular purpose in doing so. Except, of course, Malik realized, to shame his captive. Damn the man! Malik would never have thought himself capable of wanting another's death, but Shuaib was the exception to his rule. 89
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Adam was seen occasionally on deck after that, but only to fetch and carry for the captain. He was never assigned to any other work the way Malik had been. Adam always had on the collar, the leash hanging loose down his back and most times when the captain was on deck, Adam was locked in the captain's cabin. Malik had thought his time with Shuaib had been the pit of hell, but he understood now there were greater depths. Watching the young man stumble in Shuaib's wake now, Malik realized how unsteady he was. Adam had never looked a robust young man but now he seemed decidedly weak. Shuaib took him to stand by the deck railing and Malik wondered if even Shuaib had noticed Adam's condition. "Attend to your duties," Nasir said sharply and when Malik glanced at the first mate, he understood Nasir's words had been for most of the men on deck. Adam had drawn far too many eyes. Whether he heard Nasir's command or it was his own time of choosing, Shuaib led Adam back below decks. A short time later the captain appeared again and took his usual place on the command deck watching his crew work. **** Ferran dished out the evening meal and as usual Malik was last in line. That way Ferran dished out both Malik's and his own plate and they could eat together and talk about anything they wished. Or occasionally just sit in companionable silence. 90
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"Malik!" Shuaib's voice cut across the noise on deck. Malik looked at the captain. "Bring two plates to my cabin. Adam is not fit this evening." Malik was surprised that the captain gave any consideration to his 'pet', but he said nothing, just took two plates from Ferran and followed Shuaib as the captain went below. Malik was just a few yards from the cabin when he heard Shuaib erupt with a string of curses. Malik hurried forward and burst into the room to find Shuaib beating his fists in fury against Adam's torso. But Adam didn't feel the blows; Adam would never feel anything ever again. Malik's heart contracted as he stared at the body of the young man hanging from the hook in the ceiling. Somehow, Adam had managed to drag Shuaib's heavy seachest across the cabin and place it underneath the hook. It evoked memories of Nasir doing the same to him after his aborted attempt with the cannon, and Malik could imagine how hard it would have been for Adam to have emulated the strong first mate. Then Adam had twisted Shuaib's leash around his neck before looping the other end around the hook. Struggling to contain his emotions, Malik saw in his mind's eye the image of Adam dropping from the seachest to end his misery. It took all of Malik's willpower not to use his own fists on Shuaib just then and he was grateful when Nasir suddenly appeared in the doorway, no doubt drawn by the noise. "Sir!" Nasir said sharply and, as if belatedly becoming aware of his actions, Shuaib backed away and plopped down on his cot. 91
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"Please help me cut him down?" Malik pleaded. Nasir quickly took the body's weight while Malik reached up to cut the leash. Others were crowding the door, trying to see inside, and Nasir kicked it shut. Malik threw open the lid of the seachest and took out a sheet. Between them, he and Nasir rolled the body into the sheet and wrapped it up. Malik lifted the body, shocked at how light it was. Sadly he looked at Nasir and saw sympathy there he hadn't quite expected. "Get rid of him," Shuaib suddenly said and Malik had to bite his lip to stop the angry words that wanted out. "Take him on deck," Nasir said calmly, opening the door, and Malik nodded. "Clear the passage!" Nasir yelled and he walked ahead. **** "Are you all right?" Ferran asked Malik some time later. "Yes, I guess." "What does that mean?" Ferran pressed. "It means my own thoughts confuse me," Malik admitted with a sigh. "I had a moment of jealousy when I saw what Adam had done. Crazy, huh?" "Depends what the second moment brought," Ferran said. "Ah! Well, after shock, anger, grief and more anger, I decided I was glad I'd been stubborn enough not to give in, determined enough not to let Shuaib break me." Malik sighed. "In other words, I'm grateful to be alive." "Good. I'm glad. Angry at the captain, eh? Not Adam?" 92
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"God, yes. And, no. All I felt for Adam was terrible sorrow. He was so young. I hate Shuaib!" "You have just cause, but don't let your emotions get the better of your common sense," Ferran said. "I was so tempted to wrap my fingers around Shuaib's throat earlier when I found him beating Adam's dead body. The bastard! So, if I managed to control myself then, I guess I am safe," Malik said. "Damnation! I thought I'd seen it all but I've never seen that." Ferran shook his head in disgust. **** The days that followed were difficult. The captain was in a foul mood and everyone on board felt it, one way or another. Even Nasir was not immune to the captain's sharp tongue. Malik's nerves began to get the better of him as it seemed that Shuaib kept watching him. Malik couldn't help the fear from re-surfacing that, with Adam gone, the captain might set his sights on him again. Ferran recognized the cause of Malik's increased tension and tried to calm him. "I have never known him go back to one of his earlier ... captives." "Did any of them commit suicide before?" "Well, no. But, if he didn't when he murdered one of them, why should a suicide be any different?" "Because, for once, one of them escaped him," Malik said quietly. 93
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Ferran had no answer for that. However, Ferran's word proved to be correct. Though Shuaib continued to watch Malik, he never approached him. The captain's mood hardly improved until a little over three weeks later when they attacked another vessel, this one flying a French flag. The French crew fought back valiantly, but ultimately, as a passenger vessel, they had little chance against a determined Corsair crew. And perhaps more than ever, this time the crew of the Agha Din needed the release of violent action after weeks of emotional tension created by their captain. There were more dead on the French ship than Malik had ever seen before. It was also necessary to get the captives on board the Agha Din very quickly as the damaged vessel was sinking. Shuaib had the women taken below quickly and the men were lined up on deck. The captain leisurely walked along the row of captives and he took an instant liking to one of the sailors, which in itself was unusual. It was invariably one of the passengers that took the captain's eye, a young soft looking man. The man he chose was indeed young but in no way did he look soft. He was tall and muscular and had to be the complete opposite of Adam. He could have had no clear idea of the captain's intent just from the man walking along the row and picking him out, but the sailor had enough instinct that he fought against the two pirates as they pulled him from the line. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Twelve As they pulled into Bougie harbour to unload yet another cargo of slaves, boxes and bales, Malik tried to work out how long he had been on the vessel. He found it unsettling when it dawned on him he counted the passage of time on the Agha Din by the number of sex slaves the captain had gone through. There had been three now since Adam's suicide and Malik forced himself to work out how long it had been since they had buried that poor unfortunate. It was almost a surprise to realize it had been two years and about three months—which meant Malik had been on the Agha Din for over four years. He commented on the fact to Ferran that evening, when his work for the day was done. Ferran merely shrugged. "You may leave one day, my friend, but don't count on it." Hearing the words out loud made them seem more real than they had as his own musings. "Don't look so horrified," Ferran said with a wry smile. "I remember you saying after Adam died, that even with what you had been through you were grateful to be alive." "I suppose," Malik admitted grudgingly, "but, still I can't help but regret the life I might have had." "Waste of your time," Ferran said. Changing the subject, Ferran queried, "Do you suppose it's true?" "What's true?" "Oh, thought you'd have heard. The rumour is that Nasir has been offered his own command. Can't say I'm surprised, 95
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he's been serving under Shuaib for quite a few years and he's earned it." Malik's stomach churned at the idea of the Agha Din without Nasir on board. He had come to rely on the first mate to give his life stability. Nasir was firm but ultimately fair. Malik accepted that even in the use of the rope's end, Nasir wasn't arbitrary and he never used it just for the sake of doing so. Nasir punished men he considered were slacking or those he was shaping into good seamen. Malik was very aware that Nasir was no different from officers in many navies, including the Royal Navy. As far as Malik was concerned there was no comparison between Nasir and his captain. Nasir might be a pirate with all that entailed, but Shuaib was nothing but a cruel, merciless murderer who revelled in the pain and debasement of others. Malik had been feeling sorry for himself only a few hours ago, but the prospect of sailing without Nasir as a bulwark against Shuaib was a future Malik didn't want to think about. **** The following morning Nasir sent a message to Malik and Ferran to meet him in the forecastle, and when they arrived it was to find another half-dozen men already there with the first mate. "You've probably heard," Nasir began without preamble, "that I am now master of my own ship, the Ocean Pearl. It was damaged in a recent battle when, among others, its captain and first mate were killed. It needs some work and I need good men to strengthen the crew. I am giving you a 96
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chance to decide if you wish to come with me, before I ask Captain Shuaib to release you. I will take no man who is not willing." Malik for one did not even need to think on it, the offer was more than he could have hoped for and, though the other men muttered amongst themselves, there was no objection voiced aloud. "I'll go, Sir," Malik declared and, as if opening the flood gates, the others quickly gave their acquiescence too. "Good," Nasir said, "I will speak to the captain on his return." It was only as they left that Malik realised Ferran had not spoken up. He was about to question his friend when Ferran stepped up to Nasir. "I would like to go with you, Sir, but I doubt the captain will let me." "I know, Ferran," Nasir admitted, "but if you are willing, I will try." Ferran smiled and nodded. Malik looked from one man to the other, hurrying to catch up with the cook when he left. "Ferran? Ferran, what was that about?" "The captain likes my cooking." Ferran shrugged. Malik simply looked confused and with a sigh, Ferran explained. "A year or so before you joined us, I served dinner to Captain Shuaib and a few other guests, other captains. Toward the end of the meal, one of the captains asked Captain Shuaib how he would feel about letting me join his crew as he'd recently lost his cook. Shuaib got to his feet and almost snarled at him that I'd never leave this ship unless it was in a 97
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shroud. Nasir was there too and ... Let's just say I believed him." "That was years ago," Malik replied. "Surely he's forgotten that by now?" Ferran didn't answer him, instead he said, "At least you will be going, Malik. I'm happy for you." Then he headed swiftly back to his galley. "Ferran, Ferran!" Malik called after him but Ferran didn't turn back. **** The next morning Nasir called his chosen men together again and told them they had to report to the captain's cabin with him. The captain wouldn't approve Nasir's request without all the men being present. Malik couldn't rid himself of his sense of unease as he followed the others to the captain's cabin, Ferran in his wake. He had tried to talk to the cook again about his chances of going with Nasir but Ferran refused to discuss it. Captain Shuaib watched as they all filed in, eyes lingering on each man as he passed. When Malik and Ferran walked in, Shuaib laughed. "You do push me, Nasir," he said. "Not purposely, Sir," Nasir replied calmly. "You have chosen some of my best men, but I have seen the Ocean Pearl and you will have your work cut out. I will miss you here, Nasir, but I would not wish you ill. You may take these," Shuaib said pointing at the first six. "Ferran stays, you should know better than to ask." "It was a hope, Sir." 98
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"A hope you knew would be dashed," Shuaib said harshly. He looked intently at Malik now. "You want this one?" he added, looking at Nasir from the corner of his eye, but not taking his gaze from Malik. "I do. You know he is a good gunner and his navigation skills have improved beyond measure." Shuaib barked a laugh. "So, he does have other skills." Nasir said nothing and Malik dug his nails into his palms. "Very well, take him!" Shuaib dismissed them with a wave of his hand. As they walked away, Nasir said quietly, "Sorry, Ferran." "Thank you for trying, Sir, but I never expected to go." After Nasir had moved off, Ferran walked to the rail and stood looking out towards the horizon. Malik watched Ferran for a minute or two and when it was clear his friend wasn't going to say anything on the subject, Malik said, "Ferran, please tell me what is really behind Shuaib's resistance. It can't be as simple as you said. If I have to leave you behind I want to know why." Ferran glanced at Malik over his shoulder and Malik saw in Ferran's eyes the moment he decided to confide in him. "What I told you is true as far as it goes. The rest is just another example of the captain's ... possessiveness." Ferran sighed, then he suddenly barked a laugh. "My cooking skills are no better than the next man's," he confessed honestly. "Captain Jekera's mistake was in praising me and then immediately asking for me to join his crew. In public, at Shuaib's own table." "I don't understand," Malik admitted. 99
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"Captain Shuaib's pride was lifted by another's praise of something that 'belonged' to him and his ... conceit was challenged at the same time by the other person wanting to take the cause of that praise away from him. Shuaib's refusal was very definite and very loud in front of three captains and their first mates. He said, and I quote, 'the only way my cook leaves my ship will be if he is in a shroud.' I believe him, Malik. There was such fury, such mania in his manner, I shivered to hear him." He shook his head. "He won't go back on his word, his pride won't let him. He'll never let me go." There was pain in Ferran's voice and Malik didn't know how to comfort him, what to say. Malik knew only too well of Shuaib's utter determination to own whatever he desired, to command what he considered belonged to him. There was a kind of madness underlying the captain's character. Malik believed the captain's words too. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Thirteen Malik's gaze darted everywhere; he'd never been in a place quite like this one before. Of course, he knew of their existence and had seen them from the outside before he had left Tripoli, but he never ventured inside one before. When Ferran had suggested visiting his favourite coffee house in the Souk, Malik hadn't realized exactly what kind of establishment Ferran meant. "Salah's is very selective in its clientele, but they know me," Ferran had told Malik. "Expensive?" Malik queried, looking up at the large impressive building in front of him. "Very," Ferran said with a grin. "Don't worry, we have more than enough. Whatever else you can say about Shuaib, he is fair in the distribution of shares." Ferran led Malik up a twisting staircase and through a many coloured beaded curtain. A man greeted them with a smile, calling Ferran by name. Ferran introduced Malik to Salah and they were led through the shadowy room, past a small tinkling fountain surrounded by potted plants. They were finally shown to a small table in an alcove, by a window covered by a latticework shutter cut in intricate designs. The sun shone in through the shutter, creating a pattern in light and dark in their secluded area. The sound of soft music drifted through the room to the accompaniment of quiet conversation taking place behind rattan screens, or curtains lifting and swirling in the breeze 101
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blowing in through the various shuttered windows. Movement caught Malik's eye and he saw the obvious shadow of a woman undulating to the music, the beat of which quickened as Malik watched and the woman's body arched and twirled faster and faster. Speaking quietly, Ferran said, "Salah's is more discreet than some of the coffee houses on the main thoroughfare." Salah returned, trailed by a servant with a tray containing their coffee and some sweetmeats. He also brought a hookah and placed it beside the table for their use should they wish. "You would like companionship, sirs?" Salah asked. "We have fine ladies. Or, young men if you prefer? Or perhaps you would like to see Farrah dance? She moves like a breeze on water. Or, Omar? He is very supple and most attentive." "Perhaps later, thank you," Ferran replied. Salah bowed and backed away. "Damn, this place is ... the atmosphere is amazing," Malik said, glancing from alcove to alcove. While some were hidden behind their screens or curtains, a couple of the alcoves were wholly visible. In one, a middle aged man caressed a halfnaked youth, and in the other one a woman danced gracefully, her eyes never leaving the man watching her. A faint haze of smoke wafted around the room. Malik glanced at Ferran, "Somewhat scary too," he admitted, feeling out of his depth. Ferran grinned, "Don't worry, you're a well behaved pirate, you fit in perfectly." Malik laughed, but soon he sobered. "I'm going to miss you, Ferran." 102
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"I know, and I'll miss you too, you're a good friend, but you're better off on the Ocean Pearl. Nasir seems to like you and he'll make a good captain." Malik nodded. "I do want to join his crew, I just wish..." he tailed off. There was no point repeating it. Ferran knew. As if wanting to change the subject too, Ferran said, "I think, as a going away gift, you should retire with one of Salah's fine ladies." "What?" Malik was shocked. "I ... Damn it, besides anything else, you know my preferences." "Yes, but I also know that even after all this time you still can't bear the touch of a man." "Maybe never," Malik whispered, shuddering. "I know," Ferran said heavily. Reacting to the tone of his voice, Malik stared at Ferran. "I'm sorry, Ferran," he said softly. "You know how much you mean to me but I can't, I don't feel—" "I know," Ferran interrupted him. "I accepted that a while ago now." There was a minute or two of silence before Ferran asked quietly, "Have you ever been with a woman?" Malik sighed, but answered, "Yes, once. I was trying to convince myself that I didn't really want to have sex with a man. It wasn't very successful. It only served to convince me that I did want a man." "But you did satisfy her, yes?" Malik flushed. "I doubt I was her best ever, but, yes I did." "So, perhaps it is time you tried again. You can't remain celibate just because of what that bastard did to you." Malik 103
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was uncomfortable. "It's time to break free of him, Malik," Ferran added. Ferran's words hit a nerve with Malik. He hated that Shuaib still had such an effect on his feelings, his desires, his very life. "There's plenty of choice here, Malik." Ferran extended an arm to encompass the whole room. "Salah can show you a selection." Malik was very nervous, not really sure what he wanted to do, but he knew that Ferran was right. He couldn't hide from his own needs any longer. Salah's mention of a young male companion had left him cold and he nodded, confirming his decision to himself even as he spoke. "Yes, let's see what Salah has to offer." Ferran smiled, but there was a touch of sadness to it that Malik did not miss. However, Ferran said nothing; instead he snapped his fingers and Salah came running. "How may I serve you, sirs?" he asked obsequiously. "My young friend would like to sample one of your ladies. Let him choose from your best." Salah grinned and clapped his hands and from behind the beaded curtain a half-dozen young women entered. They were all veiled, though their eyes held nothing of innocence. Half determined and half reluctant, Malik let his glance slowly travel over the women. None of them particularly appealed to him. They were all reasonably attractive he supposed, but he didn't really want any of them. The only person he really wanted he could never have. However, he knew Ferran was right. His libido had returned some time ago 104
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and he had been servicing himself but he couldn't spend the rest of his life like that; he knew it wasn't healthy. He looked along the line of women again and his gaze was caught by a pair of sparkling green eyes and he reached out a hand to her. "Ah, Shakira. Excellent choice, sir." Salah clapped his hands again and the other women hurried away. Shakira bowed to Salah and stepped towards Malik, her eyes down. She turned and walked towards a narrow staircase Malik had not noticed and, with a last glance at Ferran, Malik followed her up the stairs. **** Releasing Shakira, Malik flopped back on the mattress as he attempted to control his breathing. He flung an arm across his eyes, not sure if he hid from the woman or was unwilling for her to see the look in his eyes, for her to see too much of what he felt. It was difficult enough to deal with his confusion, his uncertainty, without having to cope with another's curiosity or even disdain. Shakira had been very adept at what she did, but Malik was still uncomfortable being with a woman. Even before his experiences at the hands of Shuaib he had never really enjoyed making love with a woman. Being with a man, being with Robert; it had been so different. So much more. He was pretty sure he had performed competently—God, why was he pretending? He had gone through the motions, he had climaxed and he presumed, he hoped, he had given the woman satisfaction. She had certainly behaved as if he had, 105
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but Malik doubted he had provided Shakira with the level of pleasure that more experienced men had given her. The truth was, he couldn't bring himself to care. The only person he wanted to share his body with was beyond his reach and forever would be. He heard Shakira moving around the small room, presumably getting dressed and he lowered his arm. He glanced over at her as she stood by the door. She gave him a small bow before opening the door and leaving. Malik felt empty. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Fourteen Watching until the Agha Din was little more than a tiny dot on the horizon, Malik found it hard to understand his own mixed feelings over leaving the ship behind. He entertained no regrets about leaving the vessel on which he had been little more than a slave for the first two years of his captivity, and a pirate and slaver for the last two years. And the prospect of not seeing Captain Shuaib every day was a blessing. Though, he had to admit that ever since Nasir had taken him under his wing, Malik had gradually begun to notice a change in the crew's attitude towards him. They had begun to accept him as a fully fledged crew member and he had gained a few friends. Captain Shuaib, of course, still enjoyed getting in a sharp barb whenever he could. It seemed as far as the captain was concerned Malik was never going to be allowed to forget he'd been nothing more than his sex slave for so long. No, without doubt the only thing, the only person, Malik would really miss from the Agha Din would be Ferran. Malik smiled as he remembered the expression on Ferran's face the evening before when Malik had come down the stairs after spending some time with the woman. His friend had raised a questioning eye and Malik had just shrugged. "Oh, no," Ferran had said, "I want to at least know how it was." 107
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"It was all right," Malik had said reluctantly. "I was. Shall we say it took a while for me to ... She was very experienced," he'd finished lamely. Ferran had laughed and put an arm around Malik's shoulder. "Another new beginning my friend." Malik knew that Nasir had asked Captain Shuaib one more time if he could take Ferran with him to his new ship and Shuaib had been furious with him, telling him if he asked again he would leave the Agha Din alone. Ruthlessly, Malik quashed his guilt. He needed to leave, even though that meant leaving Ferran behind. Ferran's last comment to Malik was something he hoped might come to pass. The cook had told Malik he would miss him more than he would know, but he had added, "I hope that one day we can share a coffee at Salah's again, and tell each other exciting stories of our adventures, whether they are true or not." He had smiled and gripped Malik's hand. "Until next time, my friend." That moment, more than any other, Malik wished he had been able to return Ferran's desire for him. Malik knew how much he would miss this man who had befriended him when he had needed a friend so badly. "Until next time," Malik said softly to the fast disappearing ship. **** The Ocean Pearl proved to be a little larger than the Agha Din, though of the same basic design. The vessel had clearly been through a rough time. Its main mast was split and 108
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needed replacing. All of its sails were holed and one of them was literally in shreds. The hull was holed in three places, one of them so near the waterline that only good weather had allowed the ship to limp into port. Two of her cannons were damaged beyond repair. From what Malik could gather from talking to some of her crew, the Ocean Pearl had attacked a small merchant vessel, unaware it was being tracked by a frigate. The merchant ship had been a lure and the Ocean Pearl had fallen into the trap. The now dead captain of the Ocean Pearl had fought back valiantly against the two well armed enemy ships and they had been lucky to escape without more losses than they sustained. What had happened to the Ocean Pearl was a new ploy and it seemed sensible to conclude that if one ship had an armed escort then the odds were other vessels would too. News of this new threat had spread quickly around the very hectic port. "I doubt very much," Nasir said to his new crew collected on the main deck, "if this will be as much of a threat as some seem to fear. I think the Ocean Pearl was just unlucky in coming across this one. There is no way that every merchant or passenger vessel can possibly have an armed escort; there simply are not that many warships in existence," he added with a confident smile. "But there might be others," a belligerent voice commented. Malik tried to see who had spoken but he couldn't see the man's face. 109
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"That's true," Nasir agreed. "I didn't suggest it would be the only one; just that the odds are against the majority of our targets having such support." There was mumbling amongst the group of men, but Malik couldn't tell if the majority opinion was for Nasir or against him. There were only eight crewmembers that Nasir had brought from the Agha Din, against about eighty of the original Ocean Pearl crew. Instinctively Malik stepped closer to Nasir. "However, we have much more important matters to deal with first," Nasir announced in a firm voice and the chatter quietened. "We won't be going after any ships until we get our own vessel in good order. I have arranged for extra carpenters and sail makers and I will get any other artisans we need." "We need more crew, Captain." "I know, and I have the word out. By the time the ship is ready, I will have a full crew." Nasir exuded confidence and surety that everything would go according to his plan. And Malik, for one, was not surprised when it did. When the Ocean Pearl sailed from Bougie, the fully repaired ship did indeed carry a full crew. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Fifteen June, 1771 It was odd to be sailing into a different harbour. Malik had been accustomed to thinking of Bougie as his 'home' port while he sailed on the Agha Din, but Nasir had purposely chosen to drop anchor in Tunis, Tunisia, instead. They had left Bougie four months earlier and Nasir had taken things slowly at first allowing his crew to get used to each other. Roughly half the sailors had been the original crew of the Ocean Pearl; the other half consisted of all new men plus, of course, the eight men who had come aboard with the new captain. There had been some jealousy among the original crew based on the assumption that Nasir showed favouritism to those he had brought with him. Malik knew that Nasir was well aware of this and that he was in fact going out of his way to ensure he did no such thing. At the same time he was not going to pass over those men he had chosen to bring with him specifically because of their skills. Nasir had set his seal on his command by calling together the few remaining officers from the Pearl's original crew. "You will maintain your present positions under my license; your continued rank will depend upon your performance." "We have earned our rank, Captain," the second mate said scathingly. As the most senior of those left from the original crew, he was the most obstructive. 111
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"Then you will have no problem proving it, will you?" Nasir shot back. He looked around the gathered men, meeting every eye. "I still require a first mate and I will choose the man best suited." There was more muttering but no further challenges, so Nasir dismissed them. Nasir settled on what Malik thought was an excellent way of not only proving his impartiality, but of selecting the best Gunnery Master for the Ocean Pearl. He ordered the gun crews to show him how good they were, letting it be known that whoever led the best team would become the new master. More than half of the vessel's original gun crews had been killed during the last engagement and there was much jostling to select the best of those remaining to create new crews. There were also those among the new crewmembers who wanted to prove themselves, and some of them came with reputations as gunners. None of the groups had yet had time to form into proper gun crews; that would be the first duty of the newly appointed gunnery master. From the Agha Din only Mujjid and Malik had gunnery background. Malik knew he was good as a gunner, but, having served under Mujjid, Malik was well aware of how skilled the other man was. Malik chose not to compete against Mujjid but volunteered to serve on his crew. Mujjid nodded with approval as Malik moved to stand beside him. "With your aim and my timing, we can't lose," Mujjid said, eliciting a grin from Malik. "Still, we don't know how good these might be," Malik said, glancing at other crews forming up. 112
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Mujjid harrumphed but didn't reply. Nasir designed it so that each crew was tested twice with one shot; to see how fast they could fire and how accurate the aim was. Mujjid was the quickest to get his gun ready to shoot, though not by as much as he might have hoped, and Malik's aim was spot on. There was no muttering, no complaint, however, when Nasir made Mujjid the Gunnery Master. Nasir nodded at Malik, acknowledging his part in Mujjid's success. **** Malik noted the subtle changes in Nasir since he took command of his own ship. He still wore his trademark dark blue pants with gold and blue sash, though somehow he looked smarter these days, often wearing a burnoose which he rarely did on the Agha Din. Malik also thought the addition of Nasir's prize blade at his waist gave him an air of esteem. Malik had only ever seen the beautiful knife once before, when Nasir had worn it when he and Captain Shuaib went ashore to meet with an important slave dealer in Bougie. Ferran had told Malik that Nasir had chosen the exquisite knife as his part of the spoils a year or so before Malik had been taken. Looking at it now, stuck in his gold scabbard through the blue and gold sash, the single large sapphire sparkling in the centre of the golden haft, Malik understood why Nasir had wanted it. As he looked at his captain, Malik saw what a striking, attractive figure he made and he was surprised that he thought of Nasir in that way. Turning aside, inwardly angry at 113
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his wayward thoughts, Malik stalked away, wishing he could understand himself, wishing he could talk to someone who knew him. Wishing he could talk to Ferran. He missed his friend more with each passing day. **** The months passed slowly into years as the pattern of Malik's life on the Ocean Pearl stabilized. Malik still served on Mujjid's gun crew but, more and more, Nasir had involved Malik in the navigation of the ship. At first, Malik didn't really understand why, but it seemed as if Nasir believed Malik had what it took to be a real asset on his crew. Malik remembered all too clearly Nasir's statement that he had to make this his life now and perhaps it was Nasir's way of helping him see his potential. There had been a point, a small period of time, when Malik had wondered if Nasir had designs on him, but just went about it much more subtly than Shuaib did. However, Nasir had never done or said anything suggestive so Malik decided his judgement had been damaged with too close association with a monster like Shuaib. Nasir had never advertised his taste in sexual partners. As far as Malik was aware, Nasir had never attempted to take any of the women prisoners they had captured, not on the either the Pearl or the Agha Din. Even though those women that were considered valuable were never touched; the same could not be said for those whose value would not be diminished if they were despoiled. As time passed, Malik found himself thinking more and more about his new captain's proclivities and it frustrated and 114
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annoyed him, not only that he thought about it but also that he didn't know the answer. After two years of service on the Ocean Pearl, Nasir promoted Malik to second mate. Malik was both pleased and proud. "You earned it, Malik," Nasir said, smiling. "I well remember a conversation we had when I was still first mate on the Agha Din and I was glad when you finally accepted the advice." Malik nodded. "I remember too. You made me face up to what I was trying to ignore and once I saw the truth ... This is a hard life, Captain, but it's mine now and I want to make the best of it." "Keep on as you are and you might even make captain one day." Nasir grinned. "Hmm, not sure if that is a good thing or not," Malik replied. "I guess that depends on the kind of captain you'd be. I think you would be a good one." Nasir looked steadily at Malik for a moment, before he added, "When we reach port, I'm going to take you ashore to celebrate, you deserve it." It was actually almost two months later before Nasir made good on his offer. A couple of weeks or so after Malik was promoted the Ocean Pearl was involved in a battle with another Corsair ship. Nasir had spotted a merchantman flying a German flag on the horizon and he had set his ship on course to intercept the vessel. Malik had been manning one of the cannons under 115
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Mujjid's direction and he was proud when his shot slammed into the ship just above the waterline. Nasir shouted across to the enemy ship's captain, "The next broadside won't be quite so carefully placed." The merchantman's meagre weaponry was no match for the Corsair pirate vessel, but still the captain wasn't prepared to give up without a fight and a broadside whizzed towards the Ocean Pearl. "Mujjid, bring down the main mast," Nasir ordered, all the while edging his ship nearer to the prize. Malik knew Nasir would prefer to take both the ship and its occupants, but the cargo was worth more than the ship if it came to it. Nasir wouldn't risk his own ship. He'd hole his prey and take off the cargo before it sank, so the captain kept his gun crews pouring shot into the German vessel. The sound of an almighty crack filled the air as the German ship's mast fell, crashing across the deck. It took out half of the port railing and hung over the side, the weight of its mast and sails slowly dragging the vessel askew. There was pandemonium on the merchantman. Nasir wasted no time taking advantage of the confusion to pull his ship close enough for the crew to throw grappling lines and pull the Ocean Pearl alongside, so his men could leap across. Nasir was in the first wave to land on the merchantman, Malik at his shoulder. Sword in hand, Malik followed his captain into the fray, gunshots filling the air all around them as the Germans fired at them and the pirates fired back. Malik's swordsmanship had also improved since he'd been aboard the Ocean Pearl, the captain personally taking him in 116
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hand, and Malik confidently squared off against one of the German officers. The man was good and Malik had to concentrate to hold his own before he finally saw an opening and thrust the point of his blade into his opponent's shoulder. The man's nerveless fingers dropped the sword and Malik was pleased; he preferred not to kill unless he had to. Glancing around, Malik saw that the Ocean Pearl's crew had won the day. Nasir held his sword across the German captain's throat to press home the point. Weapons clattered to the deck as the German crew relinquished them. The Pearl's first mate, Abdullah, emerged on deck shoving three men ahead of him. "Found these passengers hiding below, Captain," he said. "No women." "This ship isn't going to stay afloat for very much longer," Nasir announced. "Malik, get whatever cargo they're carrying. Abdullah, get everyone on board the Pearl and make ready to break contact." It was at that very moment that Mujjid shouted, "Another ship." Malik followed the pointed finger to see another Corsair vessel bearing down on them, and there was no sign that the ship was slowing. What the hell was going on? Nasir was staring too, a frown on his face. Abruptly he turned, and shouted, "Get everyone on board, now!" Malik immediately abandoned the cargo and ran to Nasir's side for further orders. The German prisoners might have had no idea what was going on, but they understood that the merchantman was no longer safe and didn't baulk at hurrying across to the Corsair 117
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ship. Nasir left the prisoners in the capable hands of his first mate, and ordered Malik and a couple of others to help him quickly cut the lines holding his ship to the slowly sinking merchantman. Malik grabbed an axe and chopped at one of the hawsers, glancing up at his captain, waiting to understand what was happening. It seemed that Nasir expected trouble from the other Corsair ship and, while Malik was aware that there were factions within the Empire, he didn't understand Nasir's obvious desire to leave the other Corsair ship behind. However, now was not the time to question his captain. As soon as all the lines were clear, Nasir ordered the Ocean Pearl to quickly make way and the crew were already prepared to tack away from the merchantman, keeping the stricken ship between the Pearl and the pursuing Corsair. Malik saw Nasir's concerned expression as he kept an eye on the fast approaching vessel. It was then that Malik got a clear view of the flag the other Corsair flew and he finally understood. They were Catalan Corsairs, and had long been in competition with Ottoman Corsairs for prey along this section of coast. Their numbers had dwindled consistently over the years, but those left were the most determined, and the most vicious. It would be their pleasure to attack the Ocean Pearl and take both their ship and their captives. Any of the Pearl's crew that survived would just become more slaves for the Catalan to sell. "That is the Diablo Rojo, Captain," Abdullah called to Nasir from the main deck. 118
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Red Devil, Malik automatically translated. Even the name was meant to intimidate. "I know," Nasir replied. "I recognise the pennant." "You know this captain, Sir?" Malik asked. "More than know him, I have fought him before. On the Agha Din." Nasir added, "We barely got away. The Diablo's captain is good, and relentless." Malik wanted to tell Nasir that he was a good captain and that Malik had faith in him, but instead he simply asked, "What are your orders, Captain?" Perhaps Nasir read Malik's thoughts in his expression for he smiled at his second mate as he said, "Man your cannon, Malik, and make sure each shot counts." It was a close fought battle, the ships well matched in size and tactics. The Diablo was persistent but Nasir had honed his crew to perfection and they worked as one. The Pearl's manoeuvres were smoother and they managed to avoid what could have been some very damaging cannon balls, though Malik had been forced to dive for cover when one cannonball came too close for comfort. Mujjid was relentless, pushing his gun crews to make every shot count and Malik was no less determined to keep his ship safe. "Watch for it, Mujjid!" Nasir shouted and Malik knew that the captain was going to try and switch directions abruptly and bring the ship to bear on the rear of the Diablo. It would appear to the enemy that he was attempting another broadside and hopefully the swift switch would fool the Diablo. 119
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Malik was tense, waiting, keeping a close eye on his target. Mujjid had the cannon ready and the Pearl was slewed and lifted by the waves even as Mujjid yelled, "Now!" Malik put his torch to the touchhole. The cannon roared as it spat its lead ball at the looming ship, the sound redoubled as other guns also fired at the enemy ship. The transom exploded in a shower of shattered wood and flame, taking the quarter deck with it. Malik had little time to celebrate as the gun crew reloaded in record time and Mujjid again boomed, "Fire!" The second bombardment wasn't as successful, as the Pearl had passed the optimum firing point. But, still it did further damage and the stern of the Diablo was little more than matchwood. Nasir ordered them to keep firing as the ship swung into a broadside on the port side of the Diablo and Malik whooped with pleasure as his final shot slammed into the ship on the waterline. It had to be the final nail in the coffin. However, the Pearl was far from unscathed, and as it was obvious the Diablo was badly damaged and probably going to sink, Nasir's order to break off the attack was no real surprise to Malik. Some of the crew muttered, wanting to take revenge on the Diablo. "Quiet!" Nasir ordered. "They can go to the bottom of the sea for all I care." Malik supposed he should feel regret, guilt, for leaving the dead and dying and for abandoning the remaining sailors to a watery grave, but he didn't care. They were murderous pirates and got their just desserts. Abruptly the thought 120
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occurred that the same could be said about him. Curiously, he found that he didn't care about that either. Nasir was still speaking, "...but I won't risk the Pearl just to watch them die. We are already taking in water and we need to get to shallow waters. Abdullah, get them to work." "Aye, Captain," the first mate acknowledged. "I had no idea we'd been hit near the waterline, Captain," Malik said. "We haven't, the cannonball hit just above the waterline. However, I was throwing the ship around during the attack and we shipped a fair bit of water. We need to get that pumped out and make repairs." Nasir turned and looked toward the horizon. "We need to get to a safe harbour before that hits." Malik followed his gaze. The storm clouds gathering there looked very ominous and the ship would likely founder if it was in deep water when the storm arrived. "I know a safe place to beach the ship and make repairs if we can make it in time," Nasir said. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Sixteen They were laid up for over two weeks making repairs. Malik recognised that Nasir's choice of beach had been a good one. The rocky cove was surrounded by high cliffs making it difficult to reach from the land, and easily patrolled. The entrance from the sea was guarded by a reef, through which there was a way for a shallow draught vessel if one knew the route. Nasir did, learned from Shuaib years earlier. Last but not least, it was virtually impossible to see the cove from the sea and the sound of the surf pounding on the reef deterred any sensible captain from approaching. It was clear Nasir was in no rush, wanting to make sure the work was well done. There was always a vague possibility that another Catalan Corsair had been in the area with the Diablo Rojo. It was necessary to keep the prisoners under close guard; even though there wasn't anywhere to which they could escape. For the desperate, the sea was always a last resort. Nasir had offered the captured sailors the usual choice of joining the Corsair crew, and those that had agreed had been put to work helping with the repairs. Malik had done his fair share of work that morning and after taking a quick bite to eat, he decided a walk in the soft breeze would be good. It was warm but there was some cloud scudding overhead and he moved along the beach towards some low rocks that curved out into the water. Malik found a reasonably flat rock and sat, simply wanting to be. He let his mind wander, not settling on one subject but drifting 122
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restlessly, unconsciously mirroring the waves as they rolled in and out. It took a minute or two to realize the voices he heard were not fleeting memories or his imagination, but were real, bringing Malik back to reality. Unconcerned, knowing that as a precaution the captain had posted guards to watch both the land and the sea which meant it could only be members of the crew, Malik absently listened. He wondered if perhaps a couple of them were malingering, hiding out among the rocks, but thought it was just as possible they were taking a well deserved rest. However, it behove him as second mate to check, so he paid more attention to the low conversation, his brow creasing in puzzlement the longer he listened. Was that really Nasir's voice? That husky, low—sexy— sound? Intrigued by other sounds he couldn't quite place, Malik carefully edged closer, peering over the top of the boulder, eyes widening at the scene that greeted him. It was indeed Nasir. He was there with another man but Malik only had eyes for Nasir, whose mouth was presently too busy for conversation as he mouthed the nipple of the man beneath him. A very naked Nasir who lay between his companion's spread legs, his body undulating over his partner. Malik's eyes raked his captain's body. He knew Nasir had wide shoulders and a narrow waist, but to see him in the flesh, to watch his muscles bunch and release as he moved against the man squirming beneath him, Malik was instantly hard. He was also confused, not really sure what emotions surged through him. He hadn't been interested in a man since Shuaib had brutalized him so badly. He had taken Ferran's 123
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advice to heart and after a shaky beginning he had found release with females. He never reached the heights he had achieved with Robert and he long ago accepted he would never experience that feeling again. Yet, now he was distinctly aroused by thoughts of Nasir and what it would be like if Nasir touched him. His confusion mounted as he was also assaulted by sundry emotions he didn't understand. He didn't like being caught out by his own need; even less by his reaction to it: jealousy, betrayal? Swiftly pulling back and hunkering down among the rocks, Malik tried to put what he had seen into some kind of perspective. Yes, he was definitely unsettled and he couldn't deny a feeling of jealousy. But why? After all, he'd never been interested in Nasir like that. Had he? No, damn it! He shook his head as if to confirm his thoughts. And he certainly had no cause to feel betrayed. For what? Nasir had as much right as the next man to find his release where he could. He owed Malik nothing, less than nothing. If anything, Malik owed him. No, seeing him like that only made Malik see how lonely he was, how much he missed being with someone like that. His own right hand wasn't enough. Lord, but he needed to feel someone's touch on his body other than his own. When they returned to port he'd visit Dharr's. He'd been there the last couple of times they docked in Tunis. It wasn't as tasteful as Salah's in Bougie but the women were young. He'd particularly enjoyed Yasmina the last time he had been there. She was young and very slim and yes, he would enjoy taking her slender body. 124
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Soft cries from among the rocks behind him brought Malik back to the here and now and, having no desire to be found spying on his captain, Malik made quick his escape. He tried not to dwell on how he felt learning for certain that Nasir enjoyed sex with men, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was only as a substitute for the female body which Nasir really wanted, or if the captain truly preferred men. As he hurried away, Malik let himself see the picture of Nasir lying over the other man, needing now to know who his captain had been with, but somehow he couldn't bring the man's face into focus. All he could see was Nasir's thick black hair as it fell over the man's upper chest, his bronzed skin sheened in sweat, his strong thigh muscles powering his body forward as he ground his cock into the other man's stomach. He could hear the other sailor's moans and cries and Malik could no longer deny his jealousy of the unknown man. **** Eventually they left the safety of the hidden cove, the ship fully repaired, and they set sail for Tunis to offload the captives for sale and re-supply the ship. When everything was finalized, Nasir invited Malik and Abdullah to enjoy an evening at Dharr's with him. Malik experienced a moment of indecision. He had spent every night since seeing Nasir among the rocks, imagining the captain's hands and mouth on his body. Though at first he had tried to deny his own yearnings, Malik finally had to admit that his admiration for the captain had developed in a direction he had never expected. And now, Malik's stomach tightened at the idea of 125
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seeing him pair off with someone else, with another man, but his desire to know Nasir's true choice of partner overwhelmed his discomfort and he agreed. "Are you feeling well, Malik?" Nasir asked abruptly. "You seem ... troubled." "I'm in good health, Captain," Malik replied hastily. "I admit to being distracted. These last weeks have been..." he hesitated, lost for the correct word. "Disturbing," Abdullah supplied. "It is not good to be the one being chased. We are the lion not the lamb." "I had no idea you were so poetic," Nasir grinned. "I cannot claim the words as my own, Captain," Abdullah confessed with a lop-sided smile. "I heard them spoken some time ago and thought them suitable for our profession." Though Dharr's didn't compare favourably with Salah's as far as Malik was concerned, it was a decided improvement on other such similar establishments close to the harbour. Dharr greeted them as they entered, paying particular attention to Nasir. "Captain, it is good to see you again. And your friends. How can I serve you this fine day?" "A discreet table, hot strong coffee..." Nasir began. "And a hookah pipe," Abdullah interjected. "Any desires, Malik?" the Captain asked. Malik shrugged, "That will do to begin with." "This way, this way," Dharr said, scurrying ahead of them. He led the way to a quiet corner table, pulling a heavy drape part way across affording them some privacy. "Sit, be comfortable. Your desires will be met." He smiled effusively, dipping his head as he backed away. 126
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"One day he will kiss your feet, Captain," Abdullah remarked, eliciting a laugh from Nasir and Malik. "Much rather one of his girls does that," Nasir said, drawing Malik's eye. Nasir smiled at Malik and said wistfully, "It's been some time since I held a soft body." Malik smiled back, hiding his surprise at how much it hurt to hear Nasir admit that. It seemed his preference was for women after all. An hour or so later, Abdullah went to a private room with one of Dharr's most voluptuous women. Dharr brought quite a selection for them to choose from and Abdullah had picked his woman instantly. Malik had asked for Yasmina but Dharr said she was with another client and Malik had decided to wait for her. He wasn't really in the mood for the young woman at the moment but he kept that to himself. Nasir seemed to have difficulty in choosing between two young women and Dharr tried to persuade him to take both. Nasir gave the man a slight smile but demurred. "Perhaps your friend would like to join you and the two ladies?" Dharr pressed. Nasir glanced at Malik, who couldn't help the flush that crept up his cheeks. "I think my young friend would prefer not to share," Nasir told Dharr, his eyes never leaving Malik, who couldn't meet the penetrating gaze. "I like Yasmina," Malik said to the table. Malik was surprised when he heard Nasir sigh before telling Dharr he would take one of the women and without another word to Malik, Nasir left. 127
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It was some time later when Malik returned to their secluded table, after spending a little time with Yasmina. He hadn't expected to enjoy his time with the woman today but her undoubted talents had lifted his ardour tremendously and he left her feeling very satisfied. As he came down the stairs from the private rooms he automatically sought out Nasir, and was surprised by what he observed. Abdullah spoke to the captain in between drags on the hookah but Nasir's attention was not on his first mate. Nasir might have been sitting facing Abdullah but his gaze was held by someone else entirely. Nasir did not seem to be able to take his eyes off a young man who served coffee at an adjoining table. The boy, for he was little more, was dressed only in a pair of silk pants, so fine as to be almost transparent. His naked torso was oiled and his nipples were rouged and one of them sported a small silver ring. Malik observed Nasir as he watched the boy bend over to pass one of the small cups to a client. Nasir's eyes widened and he licked his lips at the sight of the thin material stretching taut across his backside. The captain showed more interest in the handsome youth than he had in any of the beautiful women displayed for him by Dharr. It seemed that perhaps Nasir's interests were not quite as clear cut as Malik had assumed. Malik smiled to himself as he moved back to their table. Nasir had kept his preference private all this time, sharing himself with those—maybe just one—he truly trusted on board. Damn, but Malik was annoyed with himself that he 128
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never did know who his captain had been with that day among the rocks. Abruptly, Malik became aware of Nasir's eyes on him and he couldn't help but wonder if the presence of his shipmates kept Nasir from requesting the company of the boy. Malik felt a mixture of jealousy and disquiet, wishing that Nasir trusted him enough with the truth. Malik's cock jumped at the idea of offering himself in place of the boy to Nasir. God what was he thinking? He felt the blush suffusing his face as his eyes met Nasir's. Something passed across Nasir's face and Malik frowned in puzzlement. Abruptly, Nasir shouted for Dharr and the man appeared almost immediately. "Yes, sir, what is your wish?" "The boy," Nasir said. Dharr smiled, "Of course, sir, an excellent choice. Rafiq is exquisite." The boy turned at the mention of his name and with a quick bow left the next table and came to stand by Dharr. Nasir stood without another word and followed Rafiq to the stairs. Malik was both shocked and excited—and jealous, and he needed to get away. He just knew he couldn't face Nasir when he returned from spending time with the boy. He needed time. "I need some air," Malik said suddenly. Abdullah raised an eyebrow and to forestall any awkward questions, Malik added with a forced smile, "Yasmina has left my head swimming." 129
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"You look a little pale." Abdullah said with a distinct leer. "Perhaps some fresh air would be advisable." "I will see you and the Captain on board later," Malik said and swiftly walked away. **** Nothing seemed any different the next morning. Neither Nasir nor Abdullah made reference to what had happened at Dharr's the night before. Malik chose not to bring up the subject, wishing to acquiesce with Nasir's obvious wish for privacy, though he did feel pride in being one of the few men on board Nasir trusted. However, Malik could think of nothing else, and the more he thought of it the more he came to believe he understood Nasir's choices. Not his sexual choices; Malik believed they were as ingrained in the man as Malik's own were. No, Nasir's behavioural choices. In all the years Malik had known Nasir, he had never really believed the man had any interest other than in women—until he was presented with evidence. A couple of occasions Malik had been unsure, first of all when he was afraid that Captain Shuaib might have shared him with his crew and Nasir, as his first mate, was an obvious candidate for that, but that fear was generated by Shuaib not by Nasir. The other occasion was Malik's own not unnatural fear after Shuaib released him that he would be a prime target for someone else. This proved to be true when Jabbar went after him, but he'd soon learned that Nasir had never been a threat to him. And perhaps that was really the answer to the whole 130
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question. Faced with a captain like Shuaib, Nasir had clung even more assiduously to his own code: to never take anyone against their will. Nasir impressed Malik even more. It was hardly surprising then that at night, when he was off duty and lying in his bunk in the tiny cabin he shared with Abdullah, and he used his own right hand to find release, that Nasir took centre stage in his fantasies. The female form that he had begun to use as fodder for his sexual desires no longer held any interest for him. It was Nasir's handsome face he saw behind closed eyelids, Nasir's body sheened in sweat he imagined writhing over him, his name he gasped softly into his pillow as he came. Sometimes he imagined it had been he who had climbed the stairs in Dharr's and not the lithe form of Rafiq. Weeks passed into months and Malik's desire for the man increased. He had expected it to wane, secret and unrequited as it was, yet he hadn't been able to let go of his dreams and desire to know if they were anything like the reality of being with Nasir. Sometimes he thought he would go mad. He worked so closely with Nasir and it wasn't unusual for them to touch in the course of their day, and those casual brushes against him became torture. Malik wanted them to be deliberate, to be a precursor to more, but they meant nothing to Nasir other than as a way to get his attention, to point something out to him. Malik found he couldn't help but observe Nasir in a much different way than he used to watch his captain, for advice or instructions, for orders. Now he watched closely how Nasir interacted with others—his crew, the prisoners, male and 131
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female. Conversely it began to irritate Malik that Nasir had never shown him anything but simple friendship. He wondered why the captain had no sexual inclination toward him. He was appalled at his own attitude, finding it hard to cope with. It was not so long ago that he believed he would never be able to be with another man, not even his beloved Robert, and here he was angry with another man for not wanting him. He might dream of being touched by a man, but could he really stand it? Emotionally he was drawn to Nasir, there was no denying that. But he hadn't equated it to sexual attraction until the day he had seen his captain with another man, but the truth was he desperately felt the need to find out. Yet, still he was too afraid to ever approach Nasir. Besides the underlying fear of the sex act itself, he had no wish to damage the friendship he had developed with Nasir, which might happen if the captain was not interested. He didn't know what to do! In the end, Malik did the only thing he could, he carried on as normal; trying to direct all his energies into his duties as second mate, but it was hard. Damn it, he was hard! [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Seventeen February, 1765 Malik could hardly believe how quickly everything had gone wrong. The attack on the ship had gone well and Nasir had confidently led his crew as they boarded the passenger ship, leaving Abdullah in charge of the Pearl. The enemy crew was gathered on the main deck while Malik was to lead a small party to look after and separate the passengers. Malik had only moved a few steps when he heard the sharp report of a pistol, and the almost instantaneous cry. He swung around to see Nasir clamp a hand over his upper chest and crumple to his knees. One of the pirates fired his own weapon at the cloud of smoke caused by the gun that had shot the captain, and there was a thud as the culprit was hit. Gaze darting everywhere when he really wanted to concentrate on Nasir, Malik yelled for Abdullah who was already leaping across the narrow gap between the two ships. Malik heard the man bellowing orders, ensuring the pirates had control of the captured crew and passengers and that there was no one else hiding. Immediately, Malik turned all his attention to his captain who was already being tended to by another crewmember. It didn't put Malik's mind at rest, though, to see Nasir's eyes closed in his pale face and the pinched look of pain around his mouth. "How bad was he hit?" Malik asked. 133
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"Bad enough, Sir, though it could've been worse. An inch lower," the man's voice trailed off. "Let me see," Malik pushed closer as he couldn't see that Achmed was doing more than inspecting the wound. The shirt had been cut aside and Malik could see an ugly wound, thankfully high in the fleshy part of the shoulder and nowhere near Nasir's heart. However, blood was freely flowing from the wound and the captain showed no sign of coming around. "Give me something to staunch this!" Malik demanded and Achmed hurriedly tore off a sizeable chunk from the bottom of his shirt. Malik made a pad of the none-too clean material and pressed it against the wound. "We need to get him into his bunk. Help me lift him." Abdullah suddenly appeared at his side. "How is he?" the first mate asked gruffly. Malik's first reaction was to tell Abdullah he needn't think he was captain yet, but a quick glance at the man's face and Malik regretted his unkind thoughts. "Not good, but it could be much worse." "Look after him, Malik, leave everything else to me." Malik nodded and he and Achmed moved as quickly as they could back to the Pearl with their precious cargo. **** The nearest person they'd had to a sawbones on the Pearl had been killed a few weeks previously when he had been swept overboard during a storm. So, it fell to Malik to take care of Nasir; he would trust no one else to do it. Truthfully, 134
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Malik had no more or no less knowledge of healing than the next man, but he wanted to look after Nasir. By the time they got Nasir into his bunk he had come round and was obviously hurting. His eyes lit on Malik and for a moment a flash of relief was evident, soon lost again under the distress. Digging out the ball was difficult even with Achmed helping to hold the captain steady, and it was very painful for Nasir. By the time Malik extracted it, Nasir had passed out again for which Malik was grateful. Working quickly, Malik cleaned him up and dressed the wound with torn strips of bed linen and then pulled up a chair to watch his patient. Nasir slept fitfully, his head tossing and turning one moment and then he settled for a time before again becoming restless. As he watched, Malik acknowledged how obsessive he felt about Nasir and wondered how his insistence in looking after him had appeared to the rest of the crew. Abdullah had been quite happy to leave his captain's care to Malik, trusting him to do the best he could and Malik was pleased by the first mate's faith in him. After helping to treat Nasir, Achmed left his captain with Malik without a backward glance. With relief, Malik realized his friendship with the captain was well known and accepted, and it was likely no one gave his action a second thought. Only Malik's knowledge of his secret feelings for the captain made him worry over nonexistent suspicions. Malik's drifting thoughts were interrupted by muttering from the bed and he leaned forward with the intent to calm Nasir. His hand froze in mid-motion when Nasir murmured his 135
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name. Malik stared at Nasir, his mouth open as he unashamedly listened to hear what Nasir might say next. Unfortunately, it made little sense, nonsense words interspersed with sighs and Malik's name. Yet it was enough for Malik to believe Nasir might have more on his mind than simple friendship when it came to Malik, but then Nasir quietened and soon drifted off into a peaceful sleep. **** He must have fallen asleep sometime during the early hours as he was awoken by moans and a rough voice calling his name. "Malik!" Nasir croaked, his frustration clear. Malik jumped up immediately, his head swimming a moment because he got up too quickly. "Yes, Captain, sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep. You want some water?" he asked, reaching for the jug as he spoke. Nasir nodded and Malik pressed the glass to his lips. "Slowly, Captain. That's it." "The ship?" Nasir asked, his voice still hoarse. "A little more water, Captain. The ship is fine, Abdullah has everything under control. We left the other ship behind, it was too badly damaged to bother with. The captives are below decks." Nasir nodded, his eyes closed and his expression became pinched and he obviously regretted his action. Malik wrung out a cloth in a bowl of water and gently wiped it over Nasir's brow. Nasir's eyes opened and he met Malik's as they watched him. Malik smiled. "Better?" he asked. 136
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"What happened?" Nasir asked. "Don't you remember being shot?" "Vaguely." Nasir frowned. "One of the sailors had managed to hide. He shot you; he's dead. Abdullah took charge while I saw to you." "You have been here all night?" "Yes. I wouldn't leave you alone," Malik replied without thinking. Nasir smiled. "Thank you. Help me to sit up." "Not yet, you need to heal more first." "Who is Captain here?" Nasir queried but his tone was gentle. "You, but you should listen to me." "Probably, but I need to sit up before I can get up." "What? No." "Yes," Nasir said firmly. "The crew must see that I am not badly hurt. Then you can bring me back and nurse me again." The look in his eyes said more than the words he uttered. "I don't like this," Malik said as he carefully eased Nasir into a sitting position, supporting his weight. "No, but you will obey me." "Yes, Captain." Grumbling under his breath, Malik helped Nasir to dress, giving his captain a sharp glance when he grunted in pain, but not voicing his thoughts. "Thank you, Malik, for everything," Nasir gasped, fighting the pain as he finally stood in the centre of his cabin. "You can thank me by getting back to your bed as soon as you can, Captain." 137
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Nasir laughed, but it turned into a cough. After a moment, he said, "You win." **** "I told you it wasn't wise to get up so soon!" Malik told Nasir as he helped him back into his bunk. Nasir was pale and sweating and his breathing was ragged. He had only been on deck for about twenty minutes, but it was twenty minutes too long as far as Malik was concerned. "I know," Nasir murmured, "but I had to. Abdullah is good, but he is ambitious." "You think he would try to usurp you! I wouldn't allow it," Malik declared. "I appreciate the loyalty. I think you forget sometime the crew are pirates," Nasir smiled to take any sting out of his words. "They only show loyalty to their captain if he gives them good pickings. An injured captain isn't much good for that. I know of too many captains who were disposed of because they got hurt. I can't afford to show weakness, Malik." "I'll look after you, Sir," Malik said quietly. "I don't what I did to deserve your loyalty; I hardly treated you well at first." "No, you didn't and I hated you for it," Malik admitted. "But in time I came to understand why you did it. You were making me prepared for the life I was facing even if I couldn't see it then. I long ago forgave you for that. Now I only..." he stopped abruptly. "Now you only?" Nasir pressed. 138
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"I respect you," Malik supplied. "I see." Nasir sounded disappointed and he slipped lower under the covers, turning his face away. "I admire you," Malik added, softly. He didn't know if he was making a mistake but he suddenly knew he couldn't let this opportunity pass. Nasir turned to look at him, searching his face. Meeting the gaze, Malik confessed, "I heard you last night, in your sleep, you said my name a couple of times." Nasir flushed but said nothing, so Malik continued, "Even before our last visit to Dharr's I already knew, that you like men I mean. I saw you once, when the ship was beached for repairs. You were in the rocks with someone. I..." "That was more than two years ago!" "Yes, it was. I watched you when we ... when you ... I saw it in the way you looked at young men. And I ... When you said my name, last night—" Nasir stared at him and Malik felt the weight of his gaze right through to his core. He felt as if Nasir was searching for his soul. Softly, Nasir said, "I've wanted you for so long but after what Shuaib did to you I knew you would never welcome my touch. I could never do what he did, never take what you didn't want to give, so I waited, hoping. I saw you struggle against your nature to be with women and it hurt when it seemed you were happy with them." Reaching to push the hair back from Nasir's forehead, Malik was unprepared for the shiver that ran through Nasir at his touch. "I always preferred men but after ... I took a 139
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friend's advice and persevered, and found I could enjoy being with a woman, but still it wasn't the same. It just seemed better than my own right hand for a change." He smiled deprecatingly. "At least at first. The truth is, after seeing you in the rocks that day, I got more enjoyment from my own right hand while imagining I was with you in those rocks." "Dear God! Years I've wanted you, believing you would never want me, and all this time." "You hid your true nature too well, my Captain," Malik smiled. "I so want to touch you, to know what makes you burn." "Not yet, you are too weak," Malik said sternly. "You can kiss me, I'm not too weak for that," Nasir demanded. "As you command, Sir," Malik grinned, leaning over Nasir. They were but a breath apart and Malik stopped, letting his eyes wash over Nasir's face, relishing this moment, committing it to his memory. Nasir seemed to understand and his gaze was intent as he watched Malik. Then the moment came when their lips finally met. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Eighteen Nasir's heart pounded in his chest. He had desired this man for so long he could hardly believe he had attained his wish. The feel of Malik's hands gripping his biceps; his scent, so familiar and enticingly close. Oh, the taste of him as he pressed his full lips against Nasir's mouth. It was too much, and not enough. Nasir opened up, desperately wanting to feel everything he possibly could. He'd have liked nothing better than to pull Malik down on top of him and to have finally taken the body he had dreamed of for years, but he knew that Malik would never let him, not yet, not while Malik felt such concern for him. And that made his heart swell. If all they could do was kiss, then Nasir would make it the best kiss Malik had ever experienced. He couldn't move his left arm much because of his injury, but his right arm was strong and he wrapped it more tightly around Malik to hold him closer yet. Malik gasped against his mouth and Nasir slipped his tongue inside, stroking it against Malik's tongue. Malik relaxed against him, half-lying against his side and Nasir loosened his grasp to caress Malik's back. Malik's hands began to slide up and down Nasir's arms as their tongues duelled in their mouths. Nasir felt Malik's erection pressing into his hip and his right hand slid down to Malik's ass, squeezing him. Suddenly, Malik broke the kiss, gasping, as he dropped his head onto Nasir's shoulder. Nasir missed his mouth already, but he consoled 141
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himself with the knowledge that one day soon he would have everything he wanted from this handsome young man. "Oh my, oh Nasir. If you keep that up I'll lose control and I can't, not now." Malik sighed. "God knows I'd let you, but I know you too well." He kissed Malik's hair. "Soon, Malik. I know my own strength and I won't wait long." Malik raised his head and smiled at Nasir. "I don't want to wait either, believe me." **** It was four days later when Nasir decided he was not going wait one minute longer and, laughing at his frustration, Malik admitted he was just as desperate to get his hands on Nasir. They lay side by side on Nasir's bunk, their clothes piled haphazardly on the floor nearby. Fingers drifted lazily on warm skin as they explored every inch, learning each spot that excited, that brought forth a whimper or a moan. Words were muttered, breathed into each other's mouths as they gasped for breath between each lingering kiss. Carefully taking hold of Nasir's shoulders, Malik turned them so that Nasir was underneath. He wanted to take care of his captain, but Nasir was having none of it. Breaking the kiss, Nasir smiled at him as, with surprising strength, he pushed Malik up and over and Nasir rolled on top of him. Watching him carefully, Nasir began to slowly undulate over him, their hard cocks sliding against each other. "Malik," Nasir growled, breaking eye contact to drop his head and lick and nibble at one of Malik's nipples. 142
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Malik's back arched as overwhelming sensation crashed through him, creating sweet torture as his erection rubbed roughly against Nasir's. Nasir's hands moved from Malik's shoulders and they seemed to be everywhere at once, on his chest, his belly and his hips. Malik ran his fingers up and down Nasir's spine, his hands separating so he could caress each flank and then knead his buttocks. To be able to touch him like this was exhilarating. Moaning, Nasir thrust against Malik now, pushing him down into the rough material of the bunk and, desperately needing to increase contract, Malik's hips rose to meet Nasir's. Throbbing with need, Malik's head tossed from side to side as he muttered nonsense, calling out Nasir's name intermittently. He dug his fingers deep into Nasir's back, desperately trying to hold Nasir firmly as he surged against him. Licking long swipes over Malik's chest, Nasir moved up toward his neck, where he kissed and sucked the tender skin. Everywhere Nasir touched him, fire trailed along Malik's nerves and blood pulsed through his veins, hammering in his head, making him feel dizzy and light-headed with longing. As Nasir rolled his hips, making their cocks slide against each other, Nasir suddenly stopped kissing Malik's neck and he bit down hard, making Malik yelp. Nasir's cock pulsed against Malik's and he came hard, moaning, "Want you, God, want you so much!" 143
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Hearing those words on top of feeling the hot seed coating his belly was all Malik needed to release his own climax. "Nasir, oh Nasir," Malik whispered, his face buried against Nasir's neck. Slowly, Nasir turned them so they lay facing each other. He lifted a hand, trailing his fingers through Malik's hair. "It'll be better next time, when I'm completely well," Nasir said. "You made love to me, Nasir; it doesn't get any better than that." **** Malik felt his life was complete. He never thought he would ever find someone who could equal what Robert had meant to him, but he believed that with Nasir he had. The only negative thing was that Nasir had made it clear that their relationship was to be kept secret from his crew. After years of experiencing the effects on his crew of a captain's sexual excesses, Nasir valued his privacy very highly. Malik understood and had no desire to advertise his feelings either, though he was in no way ashamed of the relationship. Nasir returned to his duty as captain and Malik as second mate and they only spent the odd hour together in the captain's cabin whenever they could. It was not ideal and not really what Malik wanted, but he accepted it was the best he could get and he was happy enough. Life went on. **** 144
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They returned to port after about four months at sea and Malik looked forward to a whole night spent together in some quiet location on land. Nasir said he knew the perfect place. Malik had immediately been suspicious that it was probably somewhere he had been with another lover in the past, but not wanting to spoil anything he kept his thoughts to himself. "Malik," Jabbar said from behind. "What is it?" Malik asked coldly; he and Jabbar had developed a kind of hostile truce. "The captain wants to see you; there is some problem in the cable tier." Malik waved an acknowledgement and went below. He was a little puzzled as to what the problem could be, but he smiled to himself as he wondered if he could perhaps steal a kiss while he and Nasir were alone together below decks. As he neared the cable tier, Malik saw the door was slightly ajar and was about to call to Nasir when he heard sounds from within. Familiar sounds that caused a cold knot to tighten in his stomach. He stepped forward slowly, unwilling to enter but unable to walk away. Malik eased his way past the door, not wishing to risk making a noise by pushing it open any further. The sight that greeted him was not exactly unexpected from what he'd overheard, but it cut him like a knife nonetheless. Nasir lay over Bashir, thrusting powerfully into him, his strong hands holding Bashir down as he took him over and over. The sounds Nasir made were all too familiar to Malik and it hurt to know that Nasir shared even that with another man. 145
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Malik turned, wanting to get away from there as quickly as possible before Nasir knew he was there. He had barely stepped into the narrow hall outside when Jabbar spoke loudly, "There you are, Malik. You're needed on deck." Malik stared at Jabbar and saw the satisfaction in the man's expression and abruptly he understood. His relationship—or should that be, his rutting—with Nasir was not as secret as they believed it was. Jabbar had been fully aware of it and had found the perfect way of paying Malik back for his earlier humiliation at Malik's hands in front of Nasir. Staring at the man, Malik thought perhaps Jabbar hadn't done him a disservice after all. At least now he knew the truth about Nasir. "Thank you, Jabbar," he said, satisfied at the confusion on Jabbar's face at his calm response. "Malik?" Nasir's soft voice robbed Malik of his composure, and he stiffened. Without turning, he said, "Yes, Captain." He was amazed at the calmness of his own voice, inside he was screaming. After a heavy silence, Nasir said, "It can wait until later." "Yes, Sir," Malik said, and stalked away. **** Nasir paced his cabin, frustration lacing every step. He'd waited for four nights now, hoping that Malik would come to his cabin and at least talk to him. Damn, but the whole thing was a mess. Surely Malik was not so naïve! But, of course, he was. Malik expected hearts and flowers and ever lasting 146
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declarations. Nasir stopped, refusing to question why he hurt so much, instead staring out of the small window at the rough seas beyond, feeling they mirrored his own mood admirably. He didn't want to order Malik below, but he realized it was the only way they could talk privately. Malik was icily polite as he went about his duties, perfection in everything he did, but Nasir saw the hurt in eyes when Malik looked at him. That happened all too infrequently since Malik had seen him with Bashir in the cable tier. What the hell made Malik visit the cable tier at that precise moment? Nasir swore as he slammed his hand against the wall beside the window and then cursed as he nursed his wrist. With a sigh he knew he couldn't put it off any longer. For both their sakes they needed to talk about this, clear the air once and for all. Striding to the door, he yanked it open and yelled at Achmed who he glimpsed passing the end of the corridor, "Send Malik to me immediately." It wasn't long before there was a sharp knock on the door and Nasir called, "Come in!" Malik entered, his spine straight, his eyes looking over Nasir's shoulder. Nasir's heart sank. Expecting that Malik would guess why he had sent for him, he had hoped that Malik would be prepared to talk but his demeanour said otherwise. Still, Nasir wasn't going to back down now. "We need to talk, sort our problems out." "There is nothing to talk about, Sir, you made your meaning obvious without the need for words." 147
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"No, Malik, I didn't and I know that is my fault. I expected you to understand something of which you knew nothing and for that I am sorry." "Sorry that I caught you," Malik said scathingly. Taking a deep breath, Nasir tried again. "Sorry that you had to find out that way, yes. But that is not what I meant." Nasir stared at Malik who still wouldn't meet his eyes. "Sit down, Malik." "I would rather stand," Malik replied. "I will not be here long, I have duties to perform." "Your first duty is to me," Nasir said sharply. "Now do as I wish and sit down." "And what is it you wish, Sir?" Malik asked as he sat stiffly in his chair. "Do you want me to suck you off, or would you rather Bashir did that?" "Damn it, Malik, stop! Let me explain." Finally, Malik looked at him, staring deep into his eyes. "Explain what? That you used me, that you led me to believe there was more between us than mutual relief?" Nasir decided not to rise to Malik's bait, but to state his own case. "Mutual relief is what Bashir and I have been giving each other for almost four years, that and nothing else. I have no feelings for Bashir and he has none for me, but there is comfort to be found in each other and I couldn't feel right about simply stopping our ... arrangement without any explanation. I did not feel able to tell him I had found someone special." "Special? How can you say I am special and still have sex with another man?" Malik demanded. 148
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"It was simply easier to keep our secret that way," Nasir said quietly. "So, it seemed as if nothing has changed." Even as he said it he knew how lame it sounded. What had he been thinking? "Secret? What secret? Jabbar obviously knows, and who knows how many others!" Jabbar! Nasir was furious that he had even forgotten that Jabbar had been there, outside in the corridor, but still what did... Malik was still speaking, in that venomous tone, "Oh yes, it was Jabbar who told me you had ordered me below, but clearly you did not. He wanted me to see you with Bashir. Don't you understand? He knew about us and wanted to ... to punish me by showing me the truth." "The truth? What truth? Jabbar has no idea what I want, what I need, what I feel—" Malik interrupted, "All you want, all you want to feel, is a man beneath you that you can rut against!" "That's not true!" Angrily, Nasir grabbed hold of Malik's arm in an attempt to stop him as he turned to leave the cabin. Malik pointedly looked at the hand on his arm and slowly lifted his eyes to Nasir. He was silent but his eyes spoke volumes. Nasir abruptly released him and stepped back, saying, "Please give me a chance. Try to understand," he added. "Can we stop shouting at each other, and talk?" he asked quietly. "There is nothing more to say. What I want you're not prepared to offer and I refuse to sell myself cheaply. You might think it's a bit late after what Shuaib did to me." Malik 149
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straightened his back. "But I don't. I won't share, I want it all and you can't give me that." This time Nasir didn't try to stop Malik as he opened the door and left. **** The months passed and as far as working together was concerned things slowly improved between Nasir and Malik. The icy demeanour with which Malik had performed his duties after their falling out had faded. The change hadn't passed without remark by the crew, but with neither Malik nor the captain giving anything away the reason why remained nothing more than conjecture. Surprisingly to Malik, Jabbar never said anything about either the relationship between the two men, or Nasir's liaison with Bashir. Though Malik wasn't stupid enough to believe that Jabbar considered the scales even. However, the close camaraderie they had once shared was missing and though Malik would never admit it, he really missed the friendship he'd shared with Nasir, almost as much as he missed being held in his arms and making love with him. And that was how he still thought of their months together, no matter how often he tried to tell himself that it had all been a lie, that was not how he remembered it when he was alone with his thoughts and desperate for what he had lost. It was easy at times like this to believe that love and hate really were two sides of the same coin. [Back to Table of Contents] 150
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Chapter Nineteen September, 1766 The clouds of smoke from the cannon fire made Malik's eyes water and aiming became increasingly difficult. He could hear Mujjid shouting at the gun crews and couldn't help a smile that his colleague's injury hadn't stopped him from retaining his post as Gunnery Master. Even with his new position, Malik was still content to serve on one of his gun crews when the need arose. The same explosion that had caused Mujjid to lose the use of his left arm had killed poor Abdullah. Malik had been first mate on the Ocean Pearl for three months now, necessitating working even more closely with Nasir. A certain distance had been possible when Malik had been second mate, a distance he had chosen not to exercise when he and the captain had been on good terms, but that he had retired behind after their estrangement. Now he had no choice. He shook his head to clear his mind of such random thoughts. During a battle was certainly not the time to lose concentration. He rubbed at his eyes and waited carefully for the up-roll, firing his gun with the intent of bringing down the mainmast. He had already damaged it and one more solid hit would probably split it and bring it crashing down. The other vessel would have to surrender then and no more good men, on either side, would have to die. He was sick of the smell of blood and death. Still, he fired his cannon into the enemy ship. 151
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"Good shot, Malik," Nasir said and Malik started, not knowing the captain was so close. "Thank you, Sir." Nasir looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he just nodded and turned away, shouting instructions to the helmsman to bring the Pearl alongside. A few hours later everything had quietened again. The enemy ship was left to founder and the captives were below decks, either as prisoners or as new crewmembers being shown how things worked on the Pearl. The night watch was on deck under the command of Achmed, who was now second mate, and Malik lay alone in his cabin. He should be sleeping; it had been a long trying day and he was tired, but his mind was too full of thoughts to let him rest. And he hated himself for his weakness. He hated Nasir too—and he loved him. He knew he would always love him and he would always want him. He ached for his touch, for the feel of his lips and the heat of his caresses. He wanted to brush his fingers across Nasir's nipples and watch them pebble just for him. He wanted to feel Nasir's cock as it swelled and filled him completely and he longed to feel the grip of Nasir's muscles as Malik pushed inside, claiming the man he loved. He felt tears prick his eyes and angrily blinked them away. Why shouldn't he have everything he wanted? Why should he deny himself? He sat up. Was he being too idealistic, wanting more than could be expected? Nasir still wanted him, he knew it. Every time the man looked at him it was there to see in his eyes. All 152
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Malik had to do was capitulate. Could he do that? Could he accept second best? Better something than nothing. **** The soft knock on his door startled Nasir as if it had been a cannon strike. Only one man had the particular rat-tat-tat and Nasir's stomach tightened. He knew Malik was off duty and only an emergency would bring him to his captain's cabin—or a personal reason. Nasir tried to force down his wish for it to be the latter as he said, "Enter." "Yes, Malik, what is it?" Nasir tried to sound casual but he felt as if the words stuck in his throat. "Can we talk?" Malik asked diffidently. Nasir raised an eyebrow, as much at the tone as the question but he didn't reply, just waved Malik to the only other chair in the small cabin. Malik might want to talk but it seemed he didn't know how to begin. Hope soaring, Nasir ventured, "Is this ship's business, or...?" Malik shrugged. "Or," he admitted, lifting uncertain eyes to Nasir. Nasir waited, struggling to let Malik set the pace, knowing that Malik's pride had taken a terrible beating and that the fault had been entirely his. If Malik was prepared to offer an olive branch Nasir would snatch it up. For nearly a year, Nasir had forced himself to sit back and watch and wait, praying that Malik would forgive him, but the truth was he had 153
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thought that Malik no longer believed he was worthy of forgiveness, let alone any other emotion. After what seemed an age Malik said, "I know you still want me, and while I want more than you can offer me, I've decided to take that part of you that you are prepared to share with me." Malik's words hadn't been exactly what Nasir had hoped for, but he had opened the door and perhaps now Nasir had a chance. Nasir opened his mouth to speak but now the words wouldn't come. He closed his eyes, his inner vision filled with an image of Malik; his head thrown back, eyes tightly closed in rapture. He wanted that again, he needed to see that again. Taking a breath to calm his racing nerves, he began, "I do want you, more than you'll ever know, Malik, but it's not just your body I want. I know you'll find it hard to believe after what I put you through and I hope you'll give me the chance to prove it, but I love you, Malik, I always have." He took a step nearer to Malik, noting the high flush in Malik's face and the widening of his eyes. "I admit I was a fool, too set in my ways to see what I was doing to you. What I was doing to us." Closing the gap between them, Nasir knelt down at Malik's feet, never letting his gaze drop from Malik's face. "I was angry with myself when I realized how distressed you were after discovering me with Bashir, but instead of admitting that, I took out my anger on you. I turned my back on what we should have had and," he swallowed over his confession, "I continued to see Bashir." The distress in Malik's eyes was 154
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like a knife in his guts, but Nasir kept on, "I was not only a blind fool, I was a stupid bastard, but I did come to my senses when I finally accepted how lonely, how empty I felt without you. I told Bashir that I could no longer continue our arrangement, that I had found that someone special. He wished me well and said he hoped he could be so lucky one day. He surprised me, I admit," Nasir shrugged at that admission. "Since that day nine months ago the only pleasure I have taken has been from my own right hand. I waited; hoping one day you would forgive me and give me a second chance." He smiled. "I confess I was desperate and have been trying to pluck up the courage to approach you, Malik." Nasir watched Malik's face, waiting for some sign, waiting for him to say something, but Malik sat still as a statue, even his eyes didn't move as he stared at Nasir. Unable to stand the silence a moment longer, Nasir declared, "I swear to you, Malik that I have not been with anyone since and that I never will again. I am yours, body, heart and soul." "If you ever break your word, I will kill you," Malik said, his voice steady, his tone harsh. "I would let you, but I swear I will never betray you." Malik moved so fast that Nasir was caught unawares and found himself on his back on the cabin floor. **** Kneeling over Nasir, Malik took his mouth in a passionate kiss, forcing his tongue inside. He felt at once powerful and needy. Nasir was his and Malik was going to make sure he 155
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knew it. Pulling at Nasir's shirt until it shredded in his hands, Malik drew his nails down Nasir's chest, feeling the shudder run through his lover's body. Releasing his mouth, Malik swiftly latched onto Nasir's nipple, smiling as Nasir arched his back, pressing his chest against Malik's mouth. "Oh God, Malik," Nasir moaned. "Please." Hearing the need in Nasir's voice tugged at Malik's heart and he released the nipple to lift his head and look at his lover, before swiftly pulling off his clothes. Nasir kicked off his pants. "Please what?" Malik asked softly, as he angled forward placing his hands beside Nasir's head staring deep into his eyes. "Show me, make me know how you feel," Nasir said, reaching up to pull Malik down to kiss him with fervour. Malik pulled back, peppering Nasir's face and neck with tiny kisses. "Lie back," he said. Sighing, Nasir did as he was asked, his eyes following every move Malik made as his hands slid slowly down Nasir's arms and then back up with feather-like strokes. Malik repeated the motion over Nasir's chest and belly, feeling Nasir's muscles contract under his ministrations. Malik could feel the heat of his lover's body as he caressed him, could feel the tremors under his fingers as Nasir reacted to the sensations he created. He saw tiny goose bumps pop up on his skin and Nasir shivered. He looked up into Nasir's face to see his eyes squeezed shut and the tension in his jaw as he held himself still, his arms rigid by his side. Malik smiled as he understood that 156
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Nasir was doing exactly as he had asked, letting Malik show him. "Let go, Nasir," Malik said softly. "Feel it, let it wash over you." Nasir's eyes snapped open and he stared back at Malik, his feelings laid bare and Malik was warmed by the love and passion he could see there. Malik moved his hands again, ghosting across Nasir's flanks before finally reaching his goal. Nasir gasped as Malik brushed a finger along his length, teasing the head and then stroking firmly up and down the shaft, twisting his hand a little as he reached the tip before sliding down again to caress his balls, first one and then the other. Then Malik released him and sat back on his haunches. **** Nasir opened eyes he didn't remember closing to see why Malik had stopped. He had been in heaven and hadn't wanted it ever to end. "Malik?" "Shush, just give me a minute," Malik said and Nasir realized he was reaching for the small jar of oil. Malik removed the stopper and poured a little onto his fingers. Nasir watched fascinated as, resting back on one hand, Malik reached underneath himself with the other hand and began opening his body. For him. Nasir could hardly believe just how arousing it was. Malik pushed a second finger inside and Nasir watched it disappear, his breath hitching as he thought about his cock sliding inside that beautiful body. 157
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"Lord, Malik, do you know what you are doing to me? I have dreamed of being inside you again. Of touching you, holding you, feeling you sliding deep inside me. I want it all with you again." Malik seemed to be hardly breathing. His eyes were almost completely black now, perspiration peppered his brow and he was flushed. "I'm almost ready now, Nasir. You want me?" he whispered. Nasir tried to speak, but no words would come. Malik removed his fingers from inside himself and coated them again. He took Nasir's cock into his hands, swiftly oiling it. Nasir suddenly pulled up his legs, planting his feet so his knees were bent creating support behind Malik if he needed it. Malik smiled as he pushed himself up onto his knees and, taking Nasir's cock firmly in one hand, he lined it up with his entrance. Then, locking gazes with Nasir, he very carefully began to lower himself onto his lover. Unable to keep still any longer, Nasir gripped Malik's waist and pushed up with his hips. Nasir revelled in the sensations as Malik's body surrounded him. The heat, like tendrils of flame, spread from his groin through to his spine to lick up his back. He'd forgotten how wonderful it was. Yet, he still wasn't prepared for the feeling Malik's motion created as he began to shift, using his strong thighs to move up and down. Gradually Malik set up a steady rhythm, rising and falling on Nasir's iron hard cock to be met by Nasir's careful thrusts into the welcoming heat. Nasir huffed with pleasure when he finally achieved the angle he wanted to touch that special place inside that sent Malik soaring. 158
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Malik's eyes were no longer open and his head was thrown back with abandon as he powered himself upward to plunge down again, forcing Nasir's cock deeper inside. He alternatively panted and moaned, and Nasir thought he was going to explode just from the sounds his lover made. Malik's cock was full and red as it bounced against his stomach with each movement he made as he rode Nasir, and Nasir reached out to caress it, tweaking the leaking tip. Malik's eyes flew open, his expression full of amazement at what he experienced. "No, please. I want to come from just this, just because of you," he gasped, circling his hips as he spoke. Nasir smiled, but it was with a touch of reluctance that he released Malik's cock. Nasir groaned at the sensation building in his belly as Malik continued to ride him, thrust after steady thrust. He felt his balls tighten and draw up, knowing he couldn't last much longer. "Malik," he murmured, "I can't ... you ... oh God!" "Come for me, Nasir, let go," Malik breathed. With a sigh, Nasir did just that and his essence shot deep inside Malik and as if it were all Malik needed, with a cry he climaxed, his semen coating Nasir's chest and belly. Malik collapsed onto Nasir and Nasir gathered him close as they panted in unison, each trying to fill their lungs as they came down from the high of their orgasms. Finally, Nasir murmured, "I can put up with the hard floor for that, but can we move to the cot now?" Malik laughed, and gave Nasir a quick kiss before getting to his feet and offering Nasir a hand. Nasir took his hand and 159
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didn't let go as they moved to the bed where he pulled Malik down with him. Wrapped in each other's arms, they closed their eyes and let sleep take them. **** It was still dark when Malik awoke and he was confused for a moment because he certainly wasn't in his bunk. Then a soft kiss was pressed to the back of his neck and he registered the warmth surrounding him. "Nasir," he murmured. "You're awake," Nasir said and Malik could actually hear the smile. Turning over, Malik kissed his captain hungrily, gripping him tightly as if afraid to let go. After a moment he said, "When I came in here, I expected to ... debase myself so I could feel your touch again, I never expected to discover you cared for me." "I adore you, worship you, will crawl on my knees to gain your attention," Nasir declared. Malik laughed, "Enough, enough." "In truth, I am sorry," Nasir said, his tone sober now, "and I'm grateful that you can forgive me. I do love you, very much." "I know." And Malik did believe that Nasir was being truthful, both in his regret and in his love, but Malik was grateful that he hadn't needed to be less than he was and he swore he would never let himself be sold short again. "I suppose I should go back to my own bunk," Malik said after a few minutes of glorying in his lover's touch. 160
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Nasir sighed, "Just a few minutes longer then I will let you go." Nasir pressed him back and kissed him, hard. It was actually nearer thirty minutes when Malik finally put his clothes back on. Nasir's goodbye kiss had turned into a quick grope, followed by a more leisurely petting and rubbing off session. "You are far too tempting for my good sense, Captain," Malik said smiling. "Not sure I have any sense left," Nasir grinned, "I think you drew it all out of my cock, together with everything else." "Oh, and I was hoping you'd have something left for tonight," Malik said. "I'll eat a good meal with plenty of meat, build my strength up." Nasir moved to stand in front of Malik, taking his face in his hands. "Come to me tonight? I have something I want to give you." "I will come tonight, every night if I can, but do I have to wait for your gift?" Malik smiled. "It's been a long time since anyone gave me anything." Nasir looked into his eyes and Malik suddenly batted them at him, making Nasir laugh. "Very well, I suppose you do deserve it." Nasir walked to the desk bolted to the wall and used a small key hanging from a chain around his neck to open the casket sitting on the desk's surface. From inside he brought out a tiny silver box. Malik came to stand beside him and he watched with interest as Nasir opened the hinged lid. Inside on a bed of red velvet was a silver ring. On first glance it didn't seem particularly extraordinary, just a simple silver 161
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band, maybe a little wider than a woman's wedding ring. However, when Nasir plucked it from its velvet bed and it caught the lamplight, Malik realized its surface was covered in an intricate design that seemed to be made up of circles and curlicues picked out in tiny diamonds. "It's beautiful. I've never seen anything like it," Malik said. "Would you wear it, for me?" Nasir asked. "I knew when I saw it that it would be perfect for you. It is from Asia, the island country of Japan, and the design is meant to show perfection. Unending, ever continuing perfection." "Oh, I am far from perfect," Malik said softly, fingering the beautiful ring. "It must be worth a fortune. It wouldn't be safe to wear it. I want to, I love it, but I don't want it damaged or to risk losing it." "I had a chain made so you can wear it around your neck, under your shirt." "You had it made. We've been at sea for months and last night..." Malik looked up at Nasir, eyes soft. "How long have you been keeping this for me?" he asked. "Does it matter?" Nasir queried. "To me you are unending perfection and I prayed one day you would accept it from me." "Where's the chain?" Malik said breathlessly. Nasir dug into the casket again and this time he pulled out a small leather bag from which he drew a heavy silver chain. He took the ring from Malik and threaded the chain through it and then he fastened it around Malik's neck. "Thank you, I will treasure it always." [Back to Table of Contents] 162
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Chapter Twenty Malik had hoped the day would be an easy one, a day he could work without really needing to concentrate on what he was doing because what he really wanted to do was think, remember, re-live the previous night with Nasir. It had been a wonderful experience and he felt as if his life had begun anew. He found himself idly fingering the ring hanging on the chain beneath his shirt and when Achmed asked him what he was smiling about, he didn't know what to say because he hadn't even known he was smiling. However, his musings were interrupted when the lookout pointed out a ship on the horizon. He glanced at Nasir on the command deck to see the captain tracking the ship with his telescope. "What is it, Captain?" Malik called. "A Spaniard, a good sized vessel. Should be good pickings," Nasir replied. In a remarkably short time, the Ocean Pearl was bearing down on its prey. The Spanish ship was indeed a good sized vessel; in fact it was larger than any other merchant ship that the Pearl had taken on. "You sure about this, Nasir?" Malik asked, standing at his shoulder as they got closer to the other vessel. He suddenly had misgivings about this attack, yet it wasn't the size of the ship that concerned him. He wasn't sure he really knew what the reason was for his foreboding. 163
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Nasir laughed. "Merchant seamen are no match for Barbary pirates, my friend. And with Mujjid in charge of my gun crews we have yet another advantage. Go, make sure the boarding party is prepared before you man your cannon." As Malik turned to go, Nasir whispered, "Be safe, my love." "You too. I have plans for tonight." **** Malik's plans hadn't included sitting in Nasir's cabin, by his captain's bed, maintaining a vigil over his body. He wanted to cry; he was full of pain but he couldn't find the release of tears. His eyes were dry and gritty and felt as raw as the rest of him did. He hadn't been with Nasir at the moment it happened; he had been in the well of the ship firing his cannon again and again, blasting away at the Spanish ship. The enemy captain was good, damned good. His seamanship was excellent and no matter what orders Nasir gave they seemed to continually play chase with the Spaniard. He could hear the anger and frustration in Nasir's voice as he issued orders to Jabbar who was at the helm, or shouted warnings to Mujjid, but Malik hadn't doubted that his captain would find a way to beat the merchantman. He had smiled at the thought and it was at that moment the ship lurched as a cannonball slammed into the Pearl. Malik was thrown to the deck. Shakily he scrambled to get on his feet, shouts and cries drawing his gaze to the command deck. He was horrified by what he saw. The last cannonball had shattered the deck. Splintered wood was 164
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everywhere, flames licking at one portion of the railing. There was no sign of the wheel or the helmsman. That was the moment that Malik realized there was no sign of Nasir either. Panic lent speed to Malik's legs as he dashed across the deck and leapt up the steps. Sailors already threw seawater on the small fires while others pulled pieces of wreckage aside. "Where's the captain?" Malik yelled; his remembrance of his earlier presentiment sending skitters of fear down his spine. "Jabbar's here, Mate. He's dead." Malik didn't care about Jabbar. "The captain? Where's the captain!" "I've found him, Sir." The words were softly spoken and Malik's blood ran cold. "I'm sorry, Sir," Rashid added. Malik was afraid to look, afraid to see the man he loved lying still. Nasir was too full of life to be still. Malik's feet wouldn't move those few steps necessary to look upon the empty shell of the man who only a few hours earlier had passionately cried out Malik's name. Without being aware of moving, he stood beside Rashid, looking at the body of his captain. Oh, so much more than his captain, his friend, his love. He couldn't be gone, he couldn't! "Malik, Malik, I need you!" Achmed shouted from behind him and the words echoed Nasir's cry of the night before and Malik's breath hitched. Backing away, Malik turned to see what Achmed wanted. "The Spaniard is getting away!" Achmed called, pointing at the other ship tacking away from them. 165
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Malik was frozen, he didn't know what to say, what to do. All he could think was that his life had ended with Nasir's. "Malik!" Achmed shouted again. His frustration bubbling over, Malik yelled, "Let the bastard go! That's not much we can do anyway with this much damage. We have to see to our own." As the word left his lips, Malik realized it was too late for his own. As if he finally understood, Achmed queried, "The captain?" "He's gone, Achmed," Malik said brokenly. "Jabbar too, and Bashir is hurt," Rashid added. That name gave Malik pause, but only for a second and then his responsibility assailed him as, with a jolt, he realized he was captain now. He wasn't ready, dear Lord, he'd never been ready to take over from Nasir, but everyone waited for him to take control. There was no one else. "Get Bashir to the sawbones. Take the captain to his cabin, I will see to him later." His mind took over in some kind of automatic mode as he forced himself to put aside his pain. "See to Jabbar. Achmed, get all this wreckage overboard, let's see what the damage really is. Mujjid," he called, "what's the situation where you are?" He didn't forget, he couldn't get the image out of his mind, but he managed to keep going, doing his duty as he knew Nasir would have done. Now hours later, alone and lost in Nasir's cabin, Malik sat staring at the smooth face of the man he loved. Not a single injury marred his handsome face and Nasir looked peaceful, as if he were merely sleeping. Malik stretched out a hand to 166
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brush back a lock of hair that had fallen over Nasir's forehead but as he touched the skin his imagination failed. Nasir was already cold; his skin felt like alabaster. Malik could no longer hold the image of a sleeping lover. His Nasir was dead. It was too soon; they hadn't had enough time. He realized it had been over ten years since he had met Nasir, and he was shocked to know it had been that long. Absently, he worked it out and in fact it had been over eleven years since the Agha Din had attacked his ship and taken him prisoner. Eleven years, but he had only understood that he loved Nasir for the last two of those years, and of that time they had only been lovers for about four months. So much wasted time. He had wasted so much of that time because of his pride and jealousy. He could count on his hands the number of hours when he had truly known how much Nasir loved him. One night, one night of true bliss and now it was over. Malik remembered the keepsake Nasir had given him in this very spot only that morning. With tears streaming down his face, Malik pulled the chain from inside his shirt and looked again at the beautifully carved ring. He lifted the chain over his head, unfastened the clasp and slid the ring off the chain. Sliding it on his finger, Malik said, "I will wear it always, I swear." He replaced the chain around his neck. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Twenty-One Physically Malik seemed fine, his strong body performing well. Even his mind seemed to work well enough, but his spirit; his spirit was lost. Slipped overboard and buried at sea like Nasir. It had fallen to Malik to say the words over Nasir and it was only because he knew the words so well and could speak them by rote that he had been able to do it. He had only ever loved two men in his life and both of them had been violently taken from him. Loving someone was too hard, too painful, and Malik decided that from now on if he wanted sexual pleasure he would either provide it himself, or pay for it. He would never again invest himself in another man. He stumbled through life for a while, outwardly carrying out his duties as captain, but inwardly lost and uncertain. He sat in his cabin late at night afraid to sleep. He stared out of the windows, or he paced the deck needing to feel the wind in his hair. It felt like the touch of a lover. Then he would berate himself for needing that reminder. Then the day came, about three months after Nasir had died, when Malik's pain boiled over into uncontrollable anger and he trashed a good portion of his cabin. Achmed rushed down to see what had happened but Malik had no reasonable answer for his first mate. Achmed gave him a long hard look then with a sharp nod he just left. Malik knew he couldn't continue like this or he would most likely end up having a mutiny on his hands. He had to get a grip on himself. 168
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He took a good long look at himself and didn't like what he saw. He drifted through life instead of taking it by the scruff of the neck. That was not the action of a captain and Malik acknowledged that the only thing he had left now was the ship and his responsibility to it and the men who served in her. So, Malik would become the best damned captain that had ever sailed in the Barbary fleet. He would turn the lazy, complaining sailors into the most efficient pirate crew imaginable. He already had the best gunner and a competent first mate. He was going to make sure every single man was the best at what they did, even if he had to beat it into them! Nasir had proved to him that a little judicious violence didn't go amiss, and it brought forth the desired results. Malik himself was proof of that. Eleven years ago he had been a spoiled boy who didn't even know what the world was about. Now he was an excellent gunner, a proficient navigator and captain of his own vessel. The Ocean Pearl was going to become famous. He would attack any ship that crossed his path. He would make more riches than his crew could dream about. He would offer the best cut the Pasha had ever had. He would take the hard lessons life had shown him and he would turn them back on life. Standing on the deck of his ship, he lifted his arms to the sky embracing the whole world. Yes, it would belong to him. Blinking into the blazing sun for an instant before turning his eyes away, his gaze fell on the silver ring on his finger. Malik would never forget the joy he had known with the two men 169
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he had loved, but he would also remember the cost to his soul. Staring at the ring and with his right hand on the pommel of Nasir's gold and sapphire knife that he wore in his honour, Malik made a vow: "In memory of what has been and a promise of what is to come." **** June, 1780 He might not have completely fulfilled his desire to become the most famous of the Barbary Pirates, but Malik had done well enough. He was feared and admired and had consistently provided good bounty for himself and his crew. Achmed was a hard man but he was a fiercely loyal first mate and that, to Malik, was an indication of his success. There were times he was lonely, but he always knew the best places to go for the best quality company in any of the ports along the Barbary Coast. Malik's eye would sometimes stray to a male prisoner, but he'd never take a man against his will. On occasion though he would allow himself to enjoy an hour or so with a female captive, never a valuable one; he wouldn't risk his bounty. But there was the odd serving girl who offered herself thinking to avoid the worst of slavery by doing so. Malik never promised anything but neither did he tell the woman she was wasting her time. Everything considered, life was good.
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Just now his cargo holds were empty and he wanted to fill them—with captured cargo and most especially with good slaves; beautiful European women and good strong men. "Captain, a sail," the lookout shouted. Taking up his telescope, Malik scanned the horizon and sure enough there it was. It was at a fair distance but it looked to be a merchant ship, sitting low in the water. He ordered the helmsman to change course to intercept the other vessel. "She's a good size, Captain, she'll be carrying a good cargo," Achmed said as the Ocean Pearl closed the distance. "Yes," Malik agreed. "That's not all, my friend. Look at the cut of her, that's a passenger ship. The best cargo of all." Malik kept the ship in his glass continually. He wanted to know what flag she flew. At last he could see it clearly. "English," he said softly. They pulled closer and closer; the other ship tried to tack away but Malik knew these winds here far too well and kept after them. Windjammer, Malik noted on the ship's transom when the Pearl was close enough to make it out. "Interesting name," he said to himself. "Mujjid," he called to his chief gunner. "Open fire when you're ready, and make it good! I want that ship, I want those slaves!" [Back to Table of Contents]
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About the Author Stevie Woods lives in the Northwest of England and enjoys reading and writing stories of romantic adventure. Stevie is happy to hear from readers via www.steviewoods.com.
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