Chapter 25 Cranberry

"These are the old gas-masks," Nol said, throwing open the lids. "Hope they still work."

"Let me see one," Lindsay said. She hooked the cloth mask around her ears and lowered the face shield with its front filter. "Luke... I am your father," she said, voice distorted through the filter.

Nol just looked at her, confused. "Who's Luke?"

"Oh, no one important. Just an Earth joke."

"It's a cute name. If we have a daughter, I'll tell Donil we should name her that." She nodded with a half-smile as though deciding. "Luke."

"Did you find it?" Veralosa yelled from the door.

"Yes!" Lindsay called back in her distorted voice. They couldn't help laughing at the sound of it. "Hand me that torch."

Nol passed her the torch. She held it under the mask.

"Anything?" Nol asked.

"No." Lindsay tore off the mask and tossed it back in the metal box. "It's hot under there."

"They'll only need the cloth for the smoke unless it gets bad."

"Do you think we have enough?"

"Four hundred, I think."

"Good, let's grab them and go." They each grabbed a handle of the box and lifted, carrying it out to where Veralosa was waiting. Lindsay jerked her head toward the storage room. "Veralosa, grab the other one."

He was out carrying the box over his shoulder with one hand moments later.

Nol scowled at him. "I hate how strong you are."

He grinned. "I take after my mom."

"Good thing we both do, could you imagine if we took after our dad?" They both laughed. "His mom was the captain of the guard, my mom was her lieutenant," Nol explained to answer Lindsay's confused look.

"And Corlan couldn't lift a Nobillo spear," Veralosa added.

"He could lift books, though. What a dozen reps a day?"

"If he was feeling lazy."

Nol's expression turned serious. "Thanks for taking care of the burial. When this is over you'll have to take me so we can do the proper rites."

Veralosa nodded.

"We'll get our revenge soon. They won't recover quickly from this."

By evening, most of their messengers had returned, some with forces. The first messenger handed Sirix a silver and blue medallion. "Mt. Sabor sends its regards, Bona Serat Corsar. They are cutting the fire break as we speak."

"The Southwest Shore has pledged two hundred soldiers and gas-masks to Child of the Coast, Sirix, the Bona Serat Corsar." The messenger gave them an orange and yellow medallion and bowed with her fist in her hand.

"The Northwest sends two-hundred twenty to meet you at the battle." A captain wearing green and blue armor said, doing the same as the first.

"The Northeast sends one-hundred fifty to join the Northwest." A captain in green and brown added.

Sirix stood with Lindsay, Nol, Donil, and the captains of the Northeast and Northwest factions, looking over the map. "We'll meet up with the ship at the Southwest Shore." He pointed to the encampment. "Then we'll sail north, leaving two thirds of our soldiers here and the other third to join with the Northern forces here. Once we have let off our soldiers, we'll light the ship on fire and use it to destroy their ships. The smoke should prevent them from being able to fly away."

"How many soldiers do they have?" the Northeastern captain asked.

"Our best estimate is a thousand. If this works, and I think it will, it will cripple their forces."

She frowned. "Six hundred against a thousand. Those aren't the best odds."

"Yeah," Nol said, running her tongue across the inside of her bottom lip. "I feel sorry for them, too. We might even pick up a prince."

Both captains stepped back, their eyes wide with shock. "There's a prince with them?"

Sirix nodded. "The third prince, Rivuk."

They appeared dumbfounded.

Nol leaned back in her chair, picking her teeth with her knife. "I know, they usually don't come out of the palace." She fell forward, catching the table with both her hands, grinning fiercely. "Let's remind them why."

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As they marched through the forest, they heard a loud cacophony filling the air. The sky went black. They looked up to see a massive flock of birds flying south, screaming murder. Lindsay had never seen so many in her life. It was like something from a Hitchcock movie.

"They've lit the fires." Sirix said, solemnly.

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Donil stared up at the ship in wonder, turning around to get the full effect and bouncing off a number of soldiers doing the same as she did. "I've never seen a ship before. Only drawings. It's huge!"

It truly was. It reminded Lindsay of one of those old wooden sailing ships at the Historic Ships in Baltimore. She'd always wanted to sail in one, now she was finally going to get the chance! Even the threat of impending battle couldn't completely erase her giddiness at the prospect.

She gave Donil a kiss. "Let's explore before everyone else gets on!" She grabbed Donil's hand and they threaded through the crowd of soldiers to the gangplank.

Sirix stepped in front of them, blocking their way. "And where do you two think you're going?"

Lindsay looked at her hands, poking the tips of her index fingers together. "We... umm... we were hoping to see the ship before everyone else got on board." She looked up at him, putting on what she hoped was her cutest pleading expression.

"You manipulative little thing," he said, nodding his head. "Fine. I'll handle the talks. I'll tell them you're inspecting the ship." He stepped aside.

Lindsay jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss, then she and Donil were off.

"Be careful," Sirix yelled after them.

She swung around a halyard. "Isn't this great?" she asked Donil, her face glowing.

"I've never seen anything like it," Donil answered.

"I have, we have some back in Baltimore Harbor. I used to love them when I was a kid! I can't believe they look exactly the same!"

"It might have something to do with this," Donil said, looking at a copper plaque affixed to the mast.

"What's it say?" Lindsay asked.

"Really, if you are going to stay here, you'll need to learn how to read."

"I will, later. Come on, Donil."

"It reads: Commissioned by Kalix, Designed by Timothy Cook of Boston, Mass. Dedicated to Jerry Cook."

"Huh, so they were designed by someone from Boston."

"You know Boston, Mass?" Donil asked.

"Yeah, Boston's the biggest city in the State of Massachusetts. It's right on the bay. Timothy Cook must have been a ship builder."

"Kalix was Sirix's grandfather."

Lindsay traced the foreign letters with her fingers that said so much and yet nothing to her. "I wonder who Jerry Cook was? Probably Timmy's kid."

"Timmy?"

"Just another name Earth people call boys named Timothy, just like Jerry is short for Gerald. Huh, why didn't the just write Gerald?"

"Ger-al-da?" Donil said.

Lindsay laughed. "Oh! Of course. Because the Bonat can't say it right!"

Donil looked hurt. "I'm sure, with practice..."

"Well, yeah, of course. But is it worth it for the dedication of a ship? Come on! Let's go below deck!"

They explored for quite a while until Lindsay came to a rather fancy looking door that came together at the top in a peaked arch. "And these, I'll bet, are the Captain's Quarters." She opened the door for Donil to see.

The ceiling of the room was covered in indigo and painted to look like the night sky. A table covered in maps lay beneath it. "Wow..." Lindsay gasped, stepping in behind Donil. "Oh my gosh! They even have a sextant and a compass!" She rushed to the table and picked up the cartography tools. "This is so cool!"

Donil sat on the edge of a crimson-colored blanket that was spread across the bed, watching Lindsay gush over every detail with a smile.

"What?" Lindsay asked, finally realizing Donil was watching, not participating.

"I've never seen you act like this before."

"Like what?"

"Like an excited child. Like me when I first entered the medical labs of Mt. Sabor. You're adorable!" Donil stifled a giggle.

Lindsay's expression changed from one of excitement to one of seduction. "I'm the adorable one?" She approached Donil, leaning down to kiss her soft, plum-colored lips. She gently pushed her down to the bed with her kiss, straddling her. She felt the gentle rocking of the moored ship in her hands and knees. "This is one of my favorite fantasies," she said undoing the tie behind Donil's neck. "I never thought I'd be playing the pirate captain with the beautiful damsel, though." She grinned, rakishly. "But I like it."

Donil smiled, reaching behind her to pull out the silver comb holding her padded belt. Lindsay took down the two pleated strips that covered Donil's breasts. No matter how many times she saw them, they always took her breath away. She struggled with her fly, almost tearing it open. Donil slid Lindsay's shorts and panties down, her palm massaging that rosy mound of Venus.

"Oh Donil..." Lindsay sighed. She began kissing down her neck, her hands massaging Donil's breasts, feeling the stiffness in her nipples. Donil was excited. So was she. Her mouth covered Donil's breast, tongue licking circles around the white, teasing the tip. She felt Donil's fingers slide into her labia, slipping back to her vagina, running along the border. She moaned. "Donil, I love you."

"I love you, too, Lindsay." The blue fingers slid inside.

Lindsay arched her back up, eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of her lover's touch within. "Oh Donil..."

"When we were with Sirix, I saw you kneel over his face as he licked you. Would you like to with me?"

"Hell yes!" Lindsay turned, placing Donil's head between her knees.

Donil held her hands as she lowered herself. Her back shot ramrod straight as she felt the first long, slow, wet lick of Donil's tongue through the valley of her vulva, then back down. Her head was swimming! She placed Donil's hands on her thighs and leaned over so she was on all fours. She ran her own tongue along the rim of Donil's arola.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as Donil's tongue penetrated her, lapping gently, curling up with each lick.

She could feel the tension in her hips, spreading through her legs, her toes curling. What Donil lacked in Sirix's forceful passion, she more than made up for in technique. The tongue stiffened, pushing in deeper, licking against the wall of her vagina, traveling up and down, moving over slightly and doing it again with clear intention.

"Mmm... Donil..." Lindsay moaned in encouragement. Donil's hands repositioned themselves, pulling Lindsay down harder as she went deeper.

No, she was going to make Donil cum, too. She wanted to hear Donil's screams in the throes of her orgasm again. She began licking the center of her arola, pressing hard with her tongue as she made little circles. She felt Donil stiffen, felt her breath coming faster, harder on her vagina. Claw-like nails dug into her thighs. No, she wasn't going to let up. Donil was going to cum first if it killed her. Then Donil's tongue struck her clitoris. It was like a giant bell clanging in her brain.

The bed quaked beneath them as they shook in tandem, loud grunts filling the air until Donil's scream pierced it. Lindsay couldn't take it anymore, she jerked backward howling, her fingers still pressing Donil's arola. Their bodies kept moving, beyond their conscious abilities, continuing to push the other further into their joined oblivion.

Lindsay felt the whiteness beginning at the edge of her mind, she fought it back, focusing on Donil's arola. She could feel the center rising in her fingers. She began stroking the tip as it rose. She felt the shaft continuing up, a thin stalk, only a centimeter and a half wide. She rubbed it up and down between her thumb and forefinger. She felt Donil's body jerking beneath her.

She turned around and lowered herself onto the growing arola. Donil's teeth clenched and her hips rose. Lindsay gasped as she felt the sudden rush of the arola filling her.

Donil's hands gripped the side of the bed as her hips shook. Lindsay felt something growing longer inside of her, tears streamed down her cheeks, she could feel Donil pushing into her cervix. Waves of pleasure washed over her, jerking her this way and that, threatening to throw her off if not for Donil's tight grip on her thighs.

Donil was clearly in the throes of ecstasy as her screams became loud and throaty. Suddenly, Donil's whole body arched and they reached a higher pitch, one Lindsay found herself matching as her eyes rolled back and she became blind to everything but Donil inside of her.

They lay shaking in each other's arms as Donil's arola retracted. Lindsay jolting from the occasional movement inside of her. When it had left her, Lindsay rolled over, enjoying the cool air on her half naked body. Donil lay beside her, her bare bosom still heaving above her skirt, the belt of the dress still tied.

"I didn't know that could happen," Donil panted.

"I guess it just takes a little extra work," Lindsay said with a smile. She reached over for Donil's hand, intertwining their fingers. "I don't know if what I'm feeling is the waves or my body."

"It could be both."

They lay for a few minutes, just feeling the waves shifting beneath them. Lindsay stared at the stars on the ceiling, looking for anything familiar but finding nothing. "My dad would love this place," she said. "He's the one who taught me how to sail. His parents are old money. Every summer when I was little, we'd go yachting up to Cape Cod, until Nana and Grampa sold the boat."

Donil turned to her. "You've never talked about your parents before."

"I try not to think of them, it makes me cry if I do. I cry if I spend too much time thinking about anything back home."

Donil took her in her arms, Lindsay's head resting against Donil's pillowy soft breasts. "You really miss it, don't you?"

"More than anything. Except for how much I would miss you and Sirix." Tears began sliding down her cheeks.

"Why don't you tell me about your dad some more?"

Lindsay smiled. "Dad... he grew up on Cape Cod. He used to go windsurfing with the Kennedys. He was really handsome. He has the biggest smile. But he loved the beach more than anything. If there was a thing you could do in the ocean, he did it. That's how he met my mom."

"And what was your mom like?"

Lindsay was really crying now. She wiped an arm across her eyes. "Mom was nothing like dad. She was from one of those poor Irish Catholic redneck families that thought going to Hagerstown on a weekend was a good time. She had six brothers and two sisters and two half-sisters because her dad was trash. But Memaw was cool. She'd load us all in her big old Chevy van and we'd go out hunting, right up until the year she died."

She sniffled; the tears kept coming. She tried to picture the old photograph of her dad and mom at the jet ski landing. Her dad straddling the skidoo, smiling his wide smile, as if he would smile forever. Her mom looking like she'd come out of a different decade with her brown curls, bright red lipstick, and one-piece suit. As if she'd time traveled from the 1950's or something to the year 2000.

"In her sophomore year of college, my mom and her half-sister, my Aunt Jeanie, went to Myrtle Beach where they met a cute guy who was giving jet ski rides. That was my dad. Well, my mom went, and then she came back in an hour and she went again, and then he took her around the boardwalk for a softshell crab sandwich because she'd never had one before. She was so grossed out when she realized they just threw the crab in breading and popped it into the fryer. And that was it. He was in love."

Lindsay chuckled. "Of course, Nana and Grampa were mad until they met her cause mom was so poor. But, you know, mom has a way of making everyone like her. And they love her like a daughter. Dad took an executive job in Baltimore and, six months later my brother, Charlie, was born."

"You have a brother?"

"Yeah, he looks just like my dad. And my younger sisters, Mary Jean and Jenny. Mary Jean's supposed to be on the Varsity team this year. I promised her I'd go to her games. But I guess I won't be. And I've already missed Jenny's musical. It was her first speaking part. She even got to sing a line, which is a lot for a freshman. And Charlie was an All-American, he could do anything! So, of course, he went to Citadel and became a JAG."

"A Jag?"

"A military lawyer. He's the coolest brother ever! He's got a little girl now, my niece, Gracie. She calls me Aunt Inzee." She pressed herself against Donil's chest, her face between those warm, comforting breasts. "I miss them so much!"

"Don't worry, we'll get you home to them, someday." Donil stroked Lindsay's back.

"No," Lindsay shook her head, her voice muffled. She raised her face so she could see Donil. "No, this is my home. Even if I went back, I think I'd always feel out of place, like I was just visiting. But I'd like to be able to see them again, and then come back. So they'd know I was ok. That I was happy."

Donil gazed down at her with loving eyes. "Are you happy?"

Lindsay snuggled into her. "Yes, the happiest I've ever been. The only thing that would make it better is if we won the war."

"We will. Because of you, we will."

They lay for a while in each other's arms, dozing, when they felt the first thumps of boots on the deck. Lindsay kissed Donil, grabbing her shorts and panties she pulled them on. "Sounds like it's time."

She watched Donil insert the comb and tie her dress back up. "God you're beautiful," she said.

Donil whitened.

There was a knock on the door. It opened, revealing Sirix's smirking face. "I thought I'd find you two in here. Come on, there's lots to do and it's about to get very tight on this ship."

The first few hours Lindsay spent packed in, shoulder to shoulder, in the hold with the rest of the troops while Donil tended to seasick passengers. Even after the first group were dropped off, quarters remained tight.

Lindsay found herself replaying her dream about Prince Rivuk, over and over, every detail still so vivid in her mind. She kept trying to push it back, but it still found its way to the forefront. She had to remind herself this wasn't the real Rivuk, only a figment of her exhausted and frustrated mind. The real Rivuk had threatened her life without a thought. He was the one who knowingly sent his soldiers to slaughter the Bonat, with not the least bit of remorse.

But then she saw the tenderness in his eyes as he slid her up and down on his cock, felt the pleasure of it penetrating her, moving inside of her. But it was just a dream! Just her need for sexual satisfaction in an unexpected form! Not the real monster living in the palace. She wasn't going to allow a stupid dream to cloud her judgement. She needed a distraction.

Lindsay squeezed through the soldiers to where Donil knelt next to a Bonat man who was lying down and moaning with a faint green tint to his blue flesh.

"I'm going to go up for a bit and get some air," Lindsay said.

"Alright, could you take that bucket with you?"

Lindsay frowned, knowing full well the contents, she picked it up, being very careful not to let it slosh out onto her shoes. She dumped the vomit over the rail and, leaving the bucket, went to look for Sirix. She found him standing at the bow of the ship, looking out to the sea. She stood beside him, waiting for him to speak.

He frowned. "The tide is against us," he said. "We won't be able to set the ship on course to burn the others. I'll have to steer it into them, myself."

"You?" Lindsay was incredulous. "Can you even swim?"

"Some. But I can pilot a ship and I can't ask anyone else to take on such a dangerous task."

"You can ask me. I've been piloting ships and swimming in oceans since I was four. If anyone can survive this, it's me."