The Grey Lady

She felt the gentle rocking and was vaguely comforted in that. She didn't know why and furrowed her brow in puzzlement, causing pain to shoot through her head. At least she felt safe, though for a moment a disturbing image flashed through her head before she slowly opened her eyes. What she saw didn't register, and stared, trying to make sense of it. If she didn't know any better, it looked like a hairy chest. The pounding in her head must be affecting her vision. She started to move and felt every muscle in her body complain. Why was she so sore? She lifted her hand to rub the sleep from her eyes and stopped as her hand touched a warm body.

"So, you're finally awake?" The hairy chest moved as a deep voice spoke, and with a squeak she bolted upright in fear, only to have the world spin around her and her stomach try to heave. One hand flew to her mouth and the other to her head and she heard the voice rumble "Damn!" before the man got out of the bed and brought a bucket to her side in time for her to throw up into it. It took several spasms before she managed to unload the contents of her stomach into the bucket while the man held her hair back. Her head pounded harder with the exertion and she closed her eyes to lie back down. That was when she realized that she wore no clothes. Her eyes flew open in shock and noted that the man was also nude with his manhood pointing wickedly at her.

She groaned and closed her eyes, burrowing down under the bedding to hide. Who was this man, and why was he here with her in this sinful way? The bed dipped as the naked man asked, "How do you feel?"

"My head hurts," she mumbled from under the covers.

"If you're going to hide under there, I shall to have to come in after you. I can't understand what you're saying."

She squeaked and quickly poked her head out from under the sheets as that was the last thing she wished. Her head hurt and the light from the swaying lantern hanging behind him pained her eyes. But when she looked away from the lantern light, her eyes fell down on the sight of his manhood. This was even more shocking, and she quickly shut her eyes and turned her head away toward the wall.

"Now, what were you saying?" He paused waiting for her reply.

"My head hurts and that light hurts my eyes." She flinched when he touched her forehead to check for fever.

"I'm not going to hurt you, girl. Let me check your stitches. Just keep your eyes closed and the light won't bother you." He turned her head towards him, lightly pressing around the sore spot. Pain shot through her temple and she gave a quick intake of air, but on the whole managed not to cry out. Even though her eyes were closed, she could sense his face was close to her and gave a little start when he spoke his next words. "So girl, what's your name?"

She opened her mouth to speak, and stopped. She. Did. Not. Know. She started to speak again, and found she could not answer. "Just tell me your name." She looked at him wide-eyed with fear. He seemed to be getting a bit angry as his next words were somewhat terse. "Oh good God, just tell me your name. I'm not going to make you go back." She looked at him, confused. What did he mean by go back? She finally had to close her eyes, for the combination of the swaying, the light and his nakedness was proving too much for her. She was afraid to tell him, as he seemed the kind of man that one did not want to anger. But she perceived that he would not be happy with her answer. If only her head did not hurt so! She hunched down in the covers, hands to her head and her eyes shut, willing the answer to surface in her mind. "You're not going to get sick again, are you?"

She heard him reaching for the bucket and cried out, "No!" But her mind was a blank. No name. Nothing. She finally lifted her head, looking him in the eyes. She would have to tell him, for to delay would just make it worse.

"I don't remember my name." The 5 words fell like a rock between them.

"What do you mean you don't remember your name?" His eyes narrow, and anger seemed just below the surface with him. Perhaps she should be scared, but for the moment, all she could feel was upset. She should know her name. But when she searched her memory, it was blank. "Where do you work?" Nothing. She stared at him. "Where do you live?" Again, blank. She closed her eyes. "Do you remember where Pete picked you up?"

She looked up slowly to say the one word that she knew he would not want to hear. "Who?" He appeared properly angered. He reached for his pants, put them on and stalked from the room. She quickly pulled the sheet up to cover her nudity. She didn't know where he had gone, and really didn't care as long as he didn't return.

She wasn't that lucky as in less than a minute he returned leading a scrawny man ahead of him. The skinny man looked nervous, licking his lips as he looked down at the wooden floor. He seemed afraid of her, although she didn't know why. His seedy looks made her shudder. The naked man (though he was no longer naked, she still called him that in her head) gave the impression of being in charge. When he saw her shudder, he quickly asked, "What's wrong?" She slightly shook her head and the room tilted. Closing her eyes, she wished she could disappear underneath the covers clutched beneath her chin. She heard rather than saw them exit, and all she could think was, "Who am I?" Her eyes stayed closed, trying to grasp any memory, but all she found was a headache. Reaching a tentative hand to her forehead, pain shot behind her eyes and she cried out. Lights flashed in her eyes and she sat there with her head bent, trying not to pass out or throw up and was consequently unaware when she was no longer alone. Her breathing became ragged.

"Damn! Are you getting sick again?" He sounded angry, or inconvenienced, as if she had some control over it. She was tempted to throw up on him for spite, but felt that if she did he may make her clean up the mess, and she didn't think that she could do that right now. She kept her head down, willing the man to disappear.

"Could you just leave me alone?"

"My dear, you are in my cabin. I could ask you to leave, but I suspect that you would not like the alternative." She felt something run down her forehead, and he cursed again. "Damn!" His hands were surprisingly gentle. She looked at him, confused and lightheaded as he gently wiped away the trickle of blood oozing from the cut.

"I'm sorry..." was all she managed to whisper before the darkness overtook her.

*****

Jake caught her as she fainted, laying the pale girl back against the bunk. He felt for a pulse to make sure she was not dead. It was thready. Somehow that was not very reassuring. This was exactly why he didn't like having females aboard ship. Even with the girl's faulty memory, he was fairly certain that Pete was to blame for this whole fiasco. Pete was just a bit too nervous about it all and he was tempted to place the sorry excuse for a human in the brig for the rest of the journey. But then, someone would have to pull Pete's shift. There was a very good chance that when they met their target, Pete might not even survive the battle. Hell, if he had his way, Pete might not survive the night.

He stood there looking at the girl as she slept. He was pretty sure that she spoke the truth. More than likely, her spotty memory could be due to the nasty bump on her head. As much as he wanted to dump her at the next port, he also felt a bit protective of her. Earlier he didn't know how he had managed to sleep with her lying nude beside him, and it had taken a while before he had managed to get control of his manhood, willing the blood to move to other parts of his body before he fell asleep. Going over the plans for the attack had managed that, but he didn't know how much longer that would work.

He sat on the side of the bed, softly tracing the girl's jaw line down to her neck and the full breast that lay above the bedding. The rosy areola that tipped each white breast pebbled and puckered as he rubbed an open palm across each one. His cock stirred. Oh, yes, this was a passionate female. But she seemed more naïve than the average tavern wench. That is, assuming that Pete told the truth about that bit of his story. For all he knew, that could be a lie too, though he couldn't necessarily see Pete as a kidnappers of innocent young ladies.

One thing was certain. He couldn't turn her loose on the rest of the ship. At least until they docked back home, he would have to keep her in here. They had no plans to return to Rabel in the near future. They were on a strict timetable and right now, that was what was more important. Maybe when her head healed her memory would return. Then they could enjoy the rest of the voyage. He had been too busy at the last port to check out any diversions there.

If she worked in a tavern, then she could keep herself busy here. He could find plenty for her to do until he could get her off the ship. He grinned at the thought of a tumble in the sheets with this blonde beauty. He would just lock her in the cabin during the attack: she should be fine. He checked her pulse again and found it stronger. The bleeding had stopped and she gave a sigh and frowned when he touched her cheek. Jake heard 8 bells and knew that he had only a couple of hours of sleep before he would need to get up. He quickly shed his pants and crawled under the covers next to the sleeping girl. He turned on his side away from her, his back to her as he attempted to find sleep. He was just about to drift off when the girl rolled over, snuggling up against his back. Damn!

*****

It was a repeated knocking that insistently attempted to get her attention. She opened her eyes and looked around to find herself alone in the cabin. The knocking continued. Her head hurt, but at least she no longer was nauseated. She finally found her voice and called out "Yes?" She quickly pulled the covers up, praying that neither man that she had met last night would open the door.

She was surprised to find a young boy poking his head around the open door. He appeared to be about 12 or 13, with an infectious grin and a shock of brown hair that stuck out in all directions. He looked at her and entered the room. "Oi! Yer up! Capt'n thought ya mite like a bath. Yew stay rite 'er an I'll set 'er up fer yew." The boy appeared to not expect an answer and she watched as the he dragged in a large tub, then exited and returned filling up the tub with pots of hot water. She wanted to ask the boy questions, but he appeared to be very busy and she didn't want to cause a problem. When he had filled the tub, he left and reappeared with soap and a rag. He laid them near the tub.

Before she had a chance to thank him, the man from last night suddenly appeared and turned to the boy. "Thanks Toby. Go get your breakfast. Cook is holding it for you." The boy grinned and left, closing the door behind him.

Now that she had a moment and could focus her eyes, she took a hard look at the man. She did feel a bit safer with him clothed.

He seemed to exude energy and something else – raw sexual tension. He was tall, maybe 6'4" if she had to guess. His wavy black hair came down just past his collar, a contrast against the white shirt he wore. His skin was a golden bronze color and told her of time spent working in the sun. His body was powerful, lean and strong with dark pants hugging his muscular legs and tucked into black leather boots. His strong jaw was smooth shaven and was accented by a sensual mouth. But his movements scared her. Every time he walked towards her, she was reminded of a wild, dangerous creature stalking its prey. And she felt like the prey.

"I thought that a bath might help you feel better. This is a luxury, so appreciate it while you've got it as this will probably be the only one before we dock again." He crossed to her and held out his hand, as if expecting to help her up.

"I think that I can bathe myself." She looked at his hand, then glanced away.

He spoke dryly. "I thought that you might be groggy and need some help. It may take a couple of days for any dizziness to pass, and I would hate for you to slip and break your neck trying to get to the tub. Or drown." She hesitated, and his next words caused her to blush. "I've already seen it all last night. Now, are you going to get up or do I need to pick you up and carry you there?"

She slid out from under the covers. Trying to stand, the earth tilted and she fell straight into his arms. To her embarrassment, he gave an exasperated sigh and picked her up in his arms, carrying her over to the tub. She was surprised however when he gently lowered her into the water. Its warmth started to soothe her sore and aching muscles. He picked up the soap, and without a word, lathered it and began to carefully wash her hair. He was especially careful around the cut on her head, and for once, she was glad that he was there. She found herself relaxing in the warm water despite the awkward circumstances.

"I may not know who I am, but who are you?"

"Jake."

Ah, a man of few words? "And where am I?"

"You're on my ship, The Grey Lady." Well, that explained some of her dizziness.

"So, Captain Jake, where did I come from?" He began to wash her back and she felt a combination of gratitude and embarrassment. If she asked him these questions, maybe it would take her mind off the fact a man she did not know was bathing her.

"Well, that is what I was hoping that you would tell me."

She stopped him when he started to reach around to her front. She was not so incapacitated that she could not wash the rest of her body. He placed the soap and rag in her outstretched hand and crossed to the desk, sitting on the edge to watch her bathe. Looking down, she noticed the bruises along her breast and legs, wondering if she had been beaten? If so, then until she could get away it would be best not to make him angry. She didn't want another beating if this was how she would feel afterwards. Still, she couldn't resist the sarcasm in her voice when she spoke. "As I suspect that I did not fall from the sky, what was the last port before I appeared?"

"Rabel." She stopped, waiting to see if there was any recognition in the name. Nothing. "Ring a bell?" She heard the hopefulness in his voice.

"No," she said after a moment's hesitation.

He crossed back to her. "Cover your eyes and I'll rinse you off." She did as was told and Jake proceeded to rinse the soap from her hair and body. When finished he helped her stand in the now cool and dirty water. He wrapped a large towel around her, lifting her suddenly out of the tub and standing her on the floor. She tried to pull away as he began to dry her.

"I think that I can finish this. Thank you."

A smile played around Jake's lips as he noted her independent streak. He crossed to a trunk and pulled out a shirt and pair of pants. He had been holding them for Toby for when the lad grew into them, but he couldn't keep this girl on his ship naked. Not with a ship load of men. He placed them on the bunk and told her, "Not exactly what a woman may want to wear, but it will have to do for now." He watched as she looked over the clothes, puzzled. She wondered where her own clothes were. As if reading her mind, he said "Your clothes were ruined. I'll see if I can find you a pair of boots." There was a pause before he asked, "And another thing, what name do you want? I can't call you 'Woman'?"

She stopped. What name did she want? She searched her mind, looking for a name that she felt comfortable with. "How about Samantha?"

He looked at her. "Is that your real name?"

She paused for a moment, analyzing her feeling on the name. It didn't feel right, but she couldn't say what was wrong with it. "No, I don't think so." She sat on the bed and tried on the pants but they were a bit too big and she knew that they would not stay up without help. She stayed seated to avoid losing them altogether.

Jake handed her a thin rope. "Belt. It'll help keep the pant from embarrassing you." The shirt was a bit large too, and certainly nothing fancy. The white cotton shirt plunged in front, showing entirely too much of her breast. But he gave her a pin which did help to close the gap a bit. It at least afforded some decency to her situation. Jake began rolling the shirt cuffs in an attempt to locate her fingers hidden in the long sleeves. She watched him cross the room and open the door.

"Toby!" The boy must have been fairly close by for the cheerful kid quickly appeared in the doorway. "Go tell Stan and Pegs to come dump this water."

The youth gave her a grin before tugging on his forelock and running from the room. "Yes sir," Toby called out, almost as an afterthought.

She was surprised at how much better she felt after having that bath. Oh, her head still hurt, but the warm water had helped some of the aching joints in her body. And now that her hair was clean, that bad smell was gone. She tried to run her fingers through her hair and asked, "Do you have a brush?" He crossed to a chest, reached in and returned to hand her a brush. She figured that it was best to stay out of his way so she concentrated on brushing her hair. She was nervous with him in the room. His nearness was disturbing, and when she looked at him, her stomach seemed to twist itself into knots. He was attractive in a dangerous way, and the thought that she had slept with him, had shared a bed, made her feel flushed. And they had both been nude! Was she the sort of woman that did that a lot? She didn't know for sure, but deep inside she felt that she was not of easy virtue. But for the moment, sleeping space was limited to his room. Maybe she should sleep on the floor until they returned to the port where she obviously came from. That would require only a few days of discomfort, and she could endure that.

*****

Jake didn't know why he was spending so much time with this woman. It's not like women were new to him. He had lost his virginity at 15 to an accommodating wench and 11 years later, he had had his fair share of the fairer sex. With his tanned, lean body and rugged good looks, he had always found it easy enough to relieve any sexual need that he may encounter at any port. So why did this heavenly creature captivate him so?

He shook his head to bring him back to the present. He had noticed the bruises all over her body. The majority had been where he had expected for a serving wench - on her breast and ass. He had admired her body as she had put on the clothes he had given her. It seemed a sin to cover such a beautiful body with such menial rags. She had a body made for sex. Even with the bruises, she was beautiful. But it was an ethereal beauty, like a moon goddess. She stood and the pants fell to the floor. Those golden curls were like gold treasure as they nestled where her legs met. He longed to play in those curls. Inwardly groaning, he felt his cock jolt in anticipation. She pulled the pants back up and cinched the rope around her waist. Soon as her head was healed, he would enjoy her body. That would be satisfactory payment for her passage.

There was a knock on the door. He made sure she was dressed before he gave his customary "Enter," and Stan and Pegs entered and crossed to pick up the tub full of water and haul it topside to dump the contents overboard. Both were good men. Stan was a barrel of a man with the strength of 3 and Jake had seen him snap a man's back in two during a fight. Pegs looked mean, but really was a gentle soul. He was very black, and got the name Pegs as his teeth had been filed to pegs, showing up very white against his dark skin. It had something to do with the native African tribe that he had been raised in. Jake had freed him from a slave ship that they had attacked some years ago, and Pegs had joined the crew out of gratitude. He really didn't talk much but he appeared to understand English better than speak it, and usually got his point across with the combination gestures and broken English.