Tales of Arilland by Alethea Kontis

she would have. It was unsettling. She knew what laughter was, what caused it and why someone did it, but she didn’t have the slightest idea of how to make her body perform such a feat. It was the same with the words – she could understand them, but she couldn’t get her tongue around them and speak back. She would have laughed at the thought of this man killing her, for she would have welcomed death. But there was one task she meant to accomplish before that happened. She had to find her lover.
    She nodded her head once more.
    “Excellent.” He left the bed and went to open a trunk on the other side of the room. He rummaged through it for a moment, and then tossed a bundle of burgundy material into her lap. She stared at it, marveling in the slight difference between it and the color of her hair. She reached out and stroked its softness, drawing patterns on it with her finger.
    His chuckle brought her out of her state. “Ye ‘ave no idea what to do with it, do ye?” He took her by the hand and gently eased her off the bed. “Come on, stand up.”
    She placed one foot flat on the floor, then the other. Then she pushed up with all her might, locking her knees and propelling herself forward into him.
    He caught her before she hit the floor. “Whoa. Easy. Ye ‘ave to get yer sea legs.” He helped her balance enough to stay upright. Surprisingly her feet held her without too much trouble.
    “Now,” he said, grabbing the bundle off the bed, “ye’re lucky I ‘ave a daughter an’ I’m used to doin’ this.” He spun her around so that she faced the wall. “Six years ago I only knew ‘ow to un dress a woman.” He pulled her hands up above her head and eased the material down around her. He moved her hair to one side so he could button up the back.
    “There.” He turned her back around. “It’s a bit large an’ it’ll probably be a tad warm. But it’ll keep the sun off ye, and the...my...men away from temptation.” He looked her up and down. “Not that they’ll need much warnin’, mind. But ye get enough rum into a man…well…stranger things ‘ave ‘appened.”
    He looked down at the former captain’s body. “Ye won’t need to…eat…again for a while then?”
    She shook her head.
    “Right. Best if ye only do it when I tell ye.” He shoved the knife back into his belt.
    Her eyes widened.
    “Oh, don’t worry,” he chuckled. “Ye’re aboard a pirate ship, darlin’. If there’s one thing we’ve always got more than our share of, it’s blood.”
    He wasn’t wrong.
    They encountered a ship three days later. There were blasts from cannons spread amidst the cries of men. She lost her footing when the ship lurched sideways, hooks pulling the losing ship close enough so that men might cross over. She peeked through the windows at the smoke of the guns, swords clashing as the blood flew.
    Lawson came back to her room when the battle had died down. He opened the door and threw a man down at her feet. His clothes were ripped and his face was a bloody mess. Gray eyes looked up at her from the red-stained face and filled with terror.
    “No…oh, God, no” were the last words he spoke.
    His fear was intoxicating.
    She closed her eyes when she was finished and let the magic wash over her. It wasn’t just the blood she craved; it was everything. She needed the senses and the feelings, the emotions and the pain, the good and the bad. She needed his life, his soul.
    Rejuvenated, she tossed her hair back and peered up at Lawson. He cupped her cheek and wiped a spot of blood away from the corner of her mouth. “There’s my girl.” He threw open the door and kicked the man’s body over the threshold. “There’s yer cap’n, men,” he bellowed. “Seems ‘e got into a spot of trouble. Any of ye want the same trouble, just cross me.”
    Crews were mixed and booty was swapped, and then they were off in search of the next victim.
    The second ship they burned. It was spectacular. She ran to the