Myths, Secrets and Love
He scratched his head for the umpteenth time. Gods, he hoped he didn’t have lice. He’d told the men several times to keep their heads clean and to use the ointment that witch back in Hardsdael had gifted them.
“Sirens ahead, Captain.”
Rodric rolled his eyes. Now he broke the news? He’d seen the flashy tails and long locks floating in the wind about ten minutes ago. Gods, he hated being a pirate. He couldn’t wait to get back to firm land and his ol’ life but his damn friend – to which, allegedly, he owed a few favors- had asked him to come with him on his last pillage. Problem was, the bastard had gone off and gotten himself lost, killed, or kidnapped - He wasn’t sure which of the three- and now it was up to him to find him.
“How shall we proceed, Captain?”
Rodric observed the wiry lad in front of him. He could be no older than sixteen or seventeen. His pale hair and blue eyes screamed innocence. There didn’t seem to be a mark on his body and his strength was not visible in those lanky arms and narrow chest he sported. Nothing compared to his scars and his over six feet, five stature. Rodric turned his back on him and climbed the steps to the quarter deck. He had no idea where Fergus had found the men on this ship, but they were a sorry excuse for pirates or sailors. Still, they managed to keep the boat afloat and him alive, so he couldn’t complain too much.
“Listen up, ye bunch of buffoons. Those wenches down there are dangerous. They’re gonna cajole you and seduce you. Don’t let them. Don’t speak to them. If you can, don’t even listen to them. Any man that throws himself into the water is a dead man. You hear me?”
There were cries of aye Captain and yes sir, across the boat. Silence spread over the deck like a blanket of fog as they came closer to the women with the fish tail. His cock did a little excited hop at the sight of their luscious forms. If it weren’t because of those nasty fish endings he’d be taking a chance on them. One of them, the redhead with green eyes that sparkled with charm, smiled at him. Rodric shuddered. His gaze averted to the blonde as she sensually gathered her hair to the side, exposing her full breasts. He heard one of the men swear in the background and watched bemused as a few of them adjusted their cocks in their trousers.
“Secure the boat.” His voice came out unexpectedly hoarse and he had to repeat the order twice before the men jumped into action. The large vessel stopped just short of the mossy rocks and the two sirens lounging on them. Respectfully, he removed his hat and nodded at the females, all the while fighting the urge to scratch his scalp and palm his cock.
“Rodric Belavue, what a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” the blonde said. Her voice was like the softest caress, sliding over him like that material he’d touched once, what was it called, ah, silk.
“You are a popular man, far and wide, Sir Belavue.” The redhead spoke up. He watched mesmerized as the tip of her tongue wet her bottom lip. Blood rushed to his dick, fattening it some more. Someone behind him grunted, bringing him out of the daze he was immersed in. Damn Fergus. When he found him, if he wasn’t dead, he’d kill him. With the image of his friend firmly in his mind, he smirked at the sirens.
“Good tales, I hope.” He said, suggestively running his hand across his crotch. The sirens laughed, the sound like tinkling bells. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched one of the men approach the railing.
“Stormy, grab your mate, will you?” He said harshly, not bothering to watch the order be carried out. He kept his attention on the fish-women.
“I’m not here to talk about the myths around my person. I’m here to ask about--“
“Fergus.” Both sirens exclaimed laughing hysterically. Rodric narrowed his eyes.
The blonde siren smiled at him. “We know your secret, Captain Rodric.”
“But don’t worry, we won’t tell,” the redhead added.
Rodric scratched his head, his fingers tangling in his long locks and making his blood boil in anger. How dare they presume? Pasting a smile on his face, he leaned into the railing.
“You know nothing about me, but I would appreciate it if you could let me know where Ferguson is.”
Abruptly, the blonde siren divided into the water. Rodric backed off just in time, as the woman broke the ocean’s surface and grasped the railing of the boat with startling ease.
Rodric shuddered. Her voice had turned from sensual and exotic to deadly serious. Regardless of the prickle of warning in the back of his neck, he leaned forward.
“Your friend passed through here three days ago. The boat did not stop and we do not know where it was headed.”
Rodric stared at the siren. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, and he realized for the first time that her irises were wider and darker than any human being's, the white in them almost nonexistent.
“But you can guess,” he finally said.
The siren’s lips curved into a predatory smile.
“Of course, but that will cost you.”
To be continued…
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