In Search of Spice, page 18
Suzanne jerked repeatedly as Mactravis kept going and a thought swam into her head through the clouds of eroticism. ‘Mot bit me! Why?’
Mot growled loudly and bent towards her thigh again. “No,” she cried to the dog, which looked at her and wagged her tail slightly. Suzanne shuddered as the pleasure mounted, and started to close her eyes, then opened them wide in fear the dog would bite again. As she did so, an errant thought drifted across her brain. ‘Why am I fucking? I am on duty.’
“Oh Gods,” she cried out loud. “Magic! Why?” She looked down the poop deck past Mactravis’ shoulder to where the second mate was enthusiastically coupling with a girl. As she looked, she saw the girl’s hand stab down at his back, and blood fountain out. It didn’t seem to disturb the second mate, who kept going and Suzanne tried to make sense of what she was seeing as Mactravis kept thrusting into her and she tried to postpone her own orgasm. She saw the second mate start to slow down, and then Mactravis was spurting into her, tipping her over into her own pleasure.
She felt Mactravis’ legs go, and quickly got her own down, as he fell to his knees, managing to keep herself somewhat aloft on shaky legs. Holding his head tightly to her stomach, she stared in horror at the second mate, blood pooling from his back, while the girl underneath him was still moving and stretching herself languorously.
“Oh God,” she moaned, “we’re being attacked.” Her head was still fuzzy, and she fought the desire to turn Mactravis on his back and get him going again. Instead she dropped him, and reached for Mot. Grabbing the dog by the scruff of the neck she dropped to her knees and stared into the dog’s eyes, trying to ground herself. Mot stared back, and licked her with enthusiasm.
Mustering a huge effort of will, she dragged herself to her feet and staggered to the railing. Wherever she looked, the crew were having sex. There seemed to be blood everywhere and several corpses, all crew, with gaping scarlet gashes across their throats, immobile on the deck. The murderous island women seemed to be deeply involved in fucking and she couldn’t see anyone being killed.
The magic pulled at her, and she turned, ready to go back to Mactravis, her loins aching with need. However in the brief moments she left him alone, one of the island girls had revived him and was astride. Suzanne felt anger and jealousy course through her, then determination filled her and she made her way unsteadily to her cabin, fortunately close by. A quick rummage in her bags and she pulled out a pendant, which protected against magic. She draped the thong around her neck to cut herself off from the magic. Immediately, the pressure eased and she could think.
She took a moment to arrange her thoughts, with Mot watching her with expectant eyes from the door. She pulled out her quarterstaff, turned and went back to the poop deck, looking for Perryn.
He was with a small, delicate girl, who was clutching him tightly with both hands, both her eyes closed as they moved slowly together.
Suzanne tapped the girl carefully on the head with her staff. She kicked Perryn firmly in the rear, knocking him off the unconscious girl, and was assisted by Mot who rushed to help and bit Perryn on the left buttock, hard.
Perryn moaned and looked up. Suzanne grabbed his ear firmly, and pressed her thumbnail into his earlobe.
“Perryn, come back! It’s a magic attack! Sort it out! Get your defences up! Oh, hell,” and she intoned a short phrase in a crackly language while leaning forward so her pendant touched his forehead. Perryn, shuddered, his eyes rolled back in his head, then rolled forward and snapped into position as he was cut off from the magic.
“Wha, what did you do? What’s happening?”
“Magic attack, from the island. It’s made everyone desperate for sex, and the islanders have come aboard and started screwing the crew. Just like you were doing.”
Perryn, frowned, his head hurting, and looked to the girl sprawled unconscious by his side. He blushed at the sight of her exposure, and it deepened as he recalled what they had been doing. His first time, and he hadn’t even known anything about it.
“Perryn, it’s worse.” Suzanne felt tears start from her eyes. “They have knives, hidden I don’t know where, and they are stabbing the men as they fuck them!”
Perryn looked at her wide-eyed, and watched as she leant over and searched the girl. This was easy - she was naked. In moments Suzanne found the knife, tied into the hair. She pulled it out, long, wickedly sharp, and black. It looked evil.
“You saved my life,” whispered Perryn.
“Never mind that, what’s happening? What sort of magic is this? I’ve never seen anything like it!” There was a note of panic in Suzanne’s voice and she was close to tears.
“How the fuck should I know?” Perryn was scared.
“You’re a magician, damn it. Find it, stop it!” Suzanne was on the edge of hysteria.
Perryn peered up at the sky, frowned and tracked something through the air.
“It’s from back of the village. Suzanne, it is strong. I can’t send something down it to the summoner, I would need an arrow, but maybe I can block it, I think. Give me your hand; I need your strength as well.” His fright fell away as he concentrated, and Suzanne felt better, using him to ground herself.
He grasped her hand, closed his eyes and frowned. Nothing happened. Perryn’s brow furrowed and she felt something drag at her, flinched as it poured down her arm into Perryn.
Suzanne felt the magical aura fluctuate around the ship. Even the pigs were fucking.
“They’re still at it, Perryn.” Suzanne had reclaimed her arm, and was rubbing her shoulder where there was a residue of pain. She felt weak and tired, though that was nothing to the wreck Perryn had become.
“Umm, it’s too strong for me. I can’t undo it or block it over the whole ship.” He looked regretfully at his earlier paramour while rubbing his head. “That hurt! Uh, is that blood?” He was staring at the second mate.
“Yes, damn it!” Suzanne cried, finding her confidence and needing action. “They are killing us while fucking us. Come on, we need to get the island girls unconscious and to snap anyone we can out of the magic. I’ll work on the first; you get cracking on the others. Uh, hang on, I think I may be able to get Mactravis back and he can work on his soldiers. They should have magical protection. Is there anyone else who has any protection against magic apart from us?”
“Umm, I’m not sure. Not thought about it. Why do you have protection?”
“Don’t be silly. How many times do you think somebody has tried to use magic to seduce me? Of course I have to have protection. Sara! She will have some.”
“Sara? A mercenary? Why?”
“She isn’t a damn mercenary, that’s why. Now get on with trying to break the spell on people, use some herbs or something.”
Suzanne strode over to Mactravis who was enthusiastically showing his soldierly endurance. She tapped the girl accurately on the head, who slumped away, then leant down and viciously dragged him off by a mixture of hair and ear, feeling him squirm and wince with a considerable degree of relish.
“What...” he looked round angrily, bracing himself on his arms.
“Get up Mactravis and do your duty! The ship has no defence, we’re being attacked and none of your men are fighting! Stand To, Mactravis!”
This last, with its inherent call to immediate danger that was drummed into his blood from years of military service, provided the desired effect and he staggered up, looking questioningly at Suzanne, the light of his eyes still obscured but a semblance of intelligence in the depths. She lifted up her pendant and touched it to his forehead.
“Mactravis, it’s a magic attack. It’s making everyone want to have sex; they send girls aboard with knives in their hair and they kill the men while fucking them.”
Mactravis’ eyes widened, and he looked down the poop deck, seeing the second mate in a pool of blood.
“Get a grip, Mactravis, and get your soldiers sorted. I need some defence on this ship. And put your trousers on.” She kicked him vengefully in the thigh, his instinctive movement protecting her real target confirming he was almost back to normal.
She turned and stalked over to the Captain, keeping an eye on Mactravis as she did so. Mactravis, looking totally shocked, moved towards his men as he fastened his trousers. Little was lying on a girl and he kicked him viciously in the side. Little grunted and pushed himself upwards from the girl, revealing he was holding her hands down while he was inside her. Mactravis saw the knife in her right hand. Clearly Little was not unused to having his paramours stab him.
Mactravis kicked Little again. “Stand to, damn you! Get off that woman and get your section in order. Find me Sergeant Russell and have him report.”
Little raised himself up slowly, looking down at the girl who watched him through half closed eyes. “Bloody hell,” he murmured, his hand going into a pocket and pulling out a charm. He brushed it against his lips, then his forehead. His eyes cleared and hardened. “You go help with the officers, sir; I’ll sort out the men. This ain’t officer work. We’ve all got charms against this sort of magic, just didn’t expect it here, I reckon. Gotten soft.”
Mactravis went over to Suzanne. She had knocked out the girl with the captain, and the one with Brian, and was carefully easing a knife out of Brian’s shoulder. She looked up at Mactravis.
“Nasty looking thing,” she gave him the blade. “What is it?”
“Lava glass,” he answered. “Sharpest knife you can get, but brittle. Make sure it doesn’t snap off inside when you pull one out.”
“It didn’t. Here, bind this up will you, I need to get Sara back.”
She left him and went over to where Pat was enthusiastically ploughing into Sara, and leaned over and touched her pendant to Sara’s head. Sara’s eyes flew wide and she looked up.
“What the hell,” she cried. “What’s going on?”
“Magic attack. Have you got a defensive charm?”
“Yes. In my bags.” Her answer was a little cut off as she had to speak in time with Pat. Sara started to colour up as she realised what was happening to her and she was having sex out in the open where everyone could see.
“You need to get them and you can help me.”
“Sure. What about Pat? Don’t hurt him,” she cried as Suzanne tapped him on the back of the head with her staff.
“Not a chance,” she said. “He’ll wake in an hour with a slight headache but hes fine.”
“What’s happening?” Sara asked as she adjusted her clothing and fondled his cheek gently.
Suzanne sighed and repeated her explanation, looking carefully at Sara, pleased at the speed she came back to reality.
Sara stood up and turned away, looking over the side as she did so. “Oh no,” she cried. “The ship is still moving. We’ll run aground.”
“Shit.” Suzanne shouted. “Mactravis! Get some men organised and get the anchor down!” She looked up at the rigging. The sails were reefed, so it would be a question of getting an anchor down. At that moment there was a creak and a groan, the whole ship seemed to shudder and she came to a slow stop, canting over at a slight angle, run aground. “Never mind, Mactravis. Let me know when your men are ready, we need to incapacitate all the islanders.”
“Sure Suzanne,” he responded, looking down to the main deck, his eyes narrowing as he counted out his soldiers. Corporal Strachan was covered in blood. “Strachan!” he shouted. “If that’s your blood, you’ll lose a stripe! Report!”
Strachan’s voice came up from the deck, strained and a little shocked. “Not mine, sir. All Royal Pathfinders accounted for, uninjured and ready for duty, sir!”
“I want every islander on board incapacitated and tied up. Knock them out first if they are still fucking. Then start to revive the crew.”
“Sir, we’ll have the girls sorted in a couple of minutes. With regard to the crew, how?”
Mactravis hesitated. When officers didn’t know what to do, sergeants and corporals usually did. They weren’t supposed to need instruction. “Get up here and we’ll take advice from the experts. And find me Sergeant Russell!”
“He’s not responding, I’m afraid,” said Perryn, relaxing back from Walters, who was clasping an unconscious girl with a beatific smile. “I’m not sure how much help he would be, to be honest. He really doesn’t do any religious work, let alone magic. He is very much just a scholar.”
“All right,” said Suzanne in frustration. “Here is Sara back, and Mactravis.”
Mactravis came up to her, then turned and watched Sergeant Russell and Corporal Strachan come up the ladder and join them. He turned to her. “Can you give us some instructions to revive the crew, Suzanne?”
She stared at him blankly for a minute. “No,” she sighed. “Perryn, Sara, any ideas?”
The two looked at each other. Sara shrugged. “How long will your pendant work, Suzanne?” Perryn asked. “Could we use it to clear people’s minds?”
“Frankly, I’ve no idea. So far, I’ve only tried it on people who already have some training in magical protection and their own charms.” She looked over the five of them. “Is it just us six and the other Pathfinders who are able to work and fight?
“Yes, Suzanne.” Mactravis looked at her steadily. “The Captain is not capable at present and for how long I don’t know. Until he does, you are the ranking officer, ma’am.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Fine. Report please.”
“Russell?” Mactravis said.
“Sir. We have fifty eight island girls unconscious and tied up on the main deck. There are twenty three confirmed dead crew, mostly male with two girls, and another thirty with some sort of injury, six of which are terminal. That’s not including those here on the poop. We have not been all over the ship, there may be others.”
Suzanne stared at him, speechless.
“Don’t take it so hard, Captain,” said Mactravis. “If it wasn’t for you, we would all be dead.”
“It was the dog,” whispered Suzanne. “She woke me.” They all looked at Mot, who was lying beside Pat’s unconscious form. Her tail thumped the deck. “And the Bosun? Is she alive?”
“Yes sir. She’s still fucking, sir.”
Suzanne looked over the rail, and realised what members of the crew she could see were all copulating. “Twenty three dead already. In moments. I can’t believe it. That’s nearly a quarter of the crew.” She shook herself. “Perryn, the spell seems to be gone. Did you do that?”
“Err, no Captain, but I agree, it seems to have cut off. I expect it is very difficult to cast and the mage won’t be able to keep it up for a long time.”
“The crew are still going and I can feel the pressure in my mind, still.”
“It seems to engrave itself in the mind, creating a sort of loop that keeps on even when the original spell is no longer active. It’s an interesting spell, almost with a life of its own that feeds on the people who it hits. Gosh! I’ve never imagined anything like this. It’s a whole new application.” Perryn started to get enthusiastic.
“Yes, yes, Perryn, but how do we break it?”
“I have no idea,” Perryn began, when a scuffling alerted them. They looked over to see the girl who had been with Perryn sitting up, rubbing her head. She looked over at the six of them, saw Perryn and smiled. She got up casually and walked over, linked her arm in Perryn’s and smiled shyly at the others.
They looked back at her in some amazement. “Do you speak Belada?” Suzanne asked in that language. The girl looked back blankly.
“She doesn’t appear to be under the spell anymore,” observed Sara. “Maybe knocking them out has reset the spell.”
“Not entirely,” observed Mactravis as the girl gripped Perryn’s hand.
“Strachan,” said Suzanne crisply, “make sure all the girls up here are secured. We just knocked them out.”
“Ma’am!” Strachan saluted as he proceeded to carry out the order.
“Perryn,” continued Suzanne, “You’re research. Find out how to revive people. Make sure there is a protective spell over us to ensure it cannot happen again.” Perryn nodded, muttering slightly under his breath.
“Sara, you’re promoted to mate. Check out the situation with the ship. Get the anchors out behind us and attached to the capstan. I want us pulled off at the highest tide and anchored out in deeper water. Plan it out, work out how many men you need. And check on the Spakka. I presume it affected them as well but I haven’t seen any.”
“Captain!” Sara nodded crisply.
Sergeant Russell came to attention. They all looked at him, and he spoke, looking at the sky. “Captain, the spell badly affected the Spakka. Their buddy system had something to do with it. Perhaps half the dead are Spakka.” There was something about his report which made them think he was holding something back, but after a moment’s pause he closed him mouth in a tight line.
“Thank you Sergeant. Mactravis, no prizes for guessing your duty. Defence! I don’t want anyone within two hundred paces of the ship. Grey Fox is to be on permanent guard with his bow. He can sleep when there is somebody watching nearby who can wake him in need. Now we need intelligence. As the women wake up, see if any speak Belada. Then we can question them and find out what is going on. Anyone you can spare to help Perryn? I was thinking Little might be useful.” Perryn looked back and nodded.
“No problem,” responded Mactravis. “Shall I also get those of the crew who are unconscious put in their cabins or hammocks, and prepare the dead for burial?”
“Yes, do it. Oh my, what about the dwarves? Have you checked on them?”
Mactravis answered carefully. “I have not. I have served with dwarves a few times and know them quite well. They are unusually resistant to magic attacks, but if they got the urge we will find out if any of those on board are female because the others will be fighting. But judging from the lack of noise from the forge, they are all dead drunk. That is a frequent reaction to crisis of this sort.”
Strachan came back. “All secured, ma’am. You may want to look at the woman who was with the Captain. She is older than the others and she looks to be stirring.”
