Rosh and Jenna had proved invaluable. Jenna orchestrated the diversion of the wealthy patrician’s guards while Rosh used his strength and skill to great effect in dispatching the few remaining guards and other impediments. The escaped slaves were loaded up, a dozen of them, and ferried off the planet to Grafton.
Dexter divided up the pay amongst them, wondering what he was going to do with his share, other than replacing used materials on the ship. “I’ll buy the first round,” Dexter offered, drawing a round of cheers from his crew.
“You for trusting the ‘Hawk to be here unguarded?” Kragor asked before they left.
Dexter glanced around, noting many Federation soldiers regularly patrolled the docks. He nodded. “Aye, I think she’ll be fine for a few hours.”
Kragor stroked his beard then shrugged and headed for the plank to the dock. Dexter, grinning, was right behind him as he gestured for the others to head out. They followed gladly, ending up at a nearby tavern called Skyharbor.
The food was a welcome change of pace from the type of fair they were accustomed to on the Voidhawk, even though Jodyne made as fine a meal as could be made with the materials at hand. The ale was welcome as well, giving them all a chance to unwind and relax.
After dinner Rosh let himself be pulled away by the arms of a woman skilled at parting a man from his money. Kragor and Dexter shared a chuckle as he grinned stupidly and disappeared through a door.
Dexter noted the sudden silence in his friend and caught the tail end of a glare from Jodyne. He stifled his own laugh out of respect for the man. The grin, however, remained.
Kragor finished his ale and bid the others farewell. He escorted his wife out of the tavern as chivalrously as he dared, leaving Dexter alone with Bekka and Jenna. Dexter let the amusement fade slowly and turned to behold his remaining crewmembers. Suddenly he felt uncomfortable, though he did not know why.
“Another round?” Dexter asked after draining the last of his ale.
“My thanks, Captain, but I will pass,” Bekka said. “I should get back to the ship as well.”
“We’re off the ship and relaxing, there’ll be no ranks here,” Dexter said, frowning.
“Alright, then I’m going to head back to the ‘Hawk, Dexter,” Bekka said with an amused smile.
Dex threw his hands up in the air good-naturedly and laughed. Bekka bid them farewell and then left. The captain of the Voidhawk turned to Jenna and raised and eyebrow.
“How about you?”
“Well, if we’re equals off the ‘Hawk,” the elven woman said, her lips curling up in a smile that looked dangerous. “Then what are your plans for the evening?”
Dexter chuckled, noting her choice of clothing was not only functional, but as the elven woman had once told him, also designed for making the fashion statement. The statement seemed to be one of promiscuity. “I’m not for knowing. It’s been a long time since I’ve had time for myself.”
“And here I thought you might have a mind to ply me with wine until you could have your way with me,” she said.
Dexter’s cheeks flared red. He had thought many times about her, his secret fantasies dancing about in his head whenever time permitted. He knew they would remain fantasies though — she was a member of his crew and that was a complication he was not willing to entertain. “Rank or not, I’m not for getting involved with my crew.”
Jenna slid from the chair she was in to one next to him. “What about your first mate and the cook?”
“What about them?” Dexter almost stammered. His eyes dropped down to her revealing vest and he felt the heat rush to his cheeks. He jerked his eyes up and wondered if more logs had been thrown on the fire; it was getting uncomfortably warm.
The sound of her musical laughter tortured him. “I have it on good authority that they’re sleeping with one another.”
Dexter could not help but chuckle. “Well, they’re married.”
“So there you are, two of your crew already involved,” she said, as though a problem had just solved itself.
“Aye, but I don’t get involved,” Dexter said after clearing his throat.
“I didn’t have any plans on involvement,” Jenna said, pouting. “Just a little fun is all.”
Dexter’s mouth opened and closed; he was at a loss for words. Unable to avert his eyes, he glanced down and he found her leaning forward so that the panels of her vest, which were hooked together with loose fitting fine chains, had fallen away from her body enough for him to see the full rise of her breasts and the pointed buds that stood out from them. Jenna grinned triumphantly, noting where his gaze had gone, and let him off the hook. “It seems I’ve had my fun now,” she said.
Before he could reply she stood up, leaning forward as she did so and giving him an even better view down her vest, and whispered in his ear, “I’ll see you back at the ship…Captain.”
Dexter watched her go, finding himself unable to speak and, even when he regained his composure, unable to stand up. He shook his head and promised himself to keep an eye on Jenna, well, sort of. He laughed at his own play of words and shook his head, ordering another ale.
“Captain Silvercloud?”
Dexter sighed, wondering what he was getting himself into this time. He turned and saw a beautiful red headed woman standing near him, a perfect smile upon her face. Somehow he managed to also note that she wore a green dress that had a low cut bodice, threatening to spill her breasts from it with a heavy breath. The skirt of her dress had cuts in the sides that allowed her long legs to slip through it with each stride, offering ethereal promises of the pleasures they could deliver.
“Uh… yeah,” Dexter replied as eloquently as he possibly could.
“My Master would like a moment of your time,” she said, her voice soft, sulky, and dangerous.
He cursed and took a drink of his ale, then smiled at her. “Time enough for him later, who might you be?”
“I am Jarnella,” she said. “My Master is Wizard Ormitor.”
“A wizard, you say?” Dexter said, reevaluating his designs towards Jarnella. Wizards were funny; there was no telling what they might be offended by. Especially since they seemed to know so much more than everybody else did.
He sighed, his plans of following in Rosh’s footsteps falling to pieces. “Well then, Milady Jarnella, take me to your master.”
She smiled at him and waited for him to stand. Dexter tossed a few extra pieces of silver on the table and followed behind her, his eyes taking in her gently swaying figure every step of the way.
Jarnella led him to another tavern, this one considerably nicer than the one near the docks where she found him. She directed him to a private booth where a man sat by himself, finishing off a goblet of wine. She slid into the booth next to the man and gestured for Dexter to sit across from them.
Dexter did as he was bid, and leaned back in surprise when a manservant delivered a tankard of fine ale for him. He thanked the man, then turned to his host.
“Dexter Silvercloud, captain of the Voidhawk, at your service,” he said, raising his tankard of ale in salute.
“I need to make a fast trip to my home,” Ormitor said without preamble. “What are your rates?”
Dexter blinked, surprised. “Well, you and Lady Jarnella? How much luggage will you be bringing?”
“She is no Lady,” Ormitor stated bluntly. “But we will require a single room, including my belongings. I have three other servants as well that will require a separate room.”
Dexter fought his distaste at the wizard’s caustic nature. He nodded and after only a moment of thought said, “Hundred and fifty gold is standard fare for you and your servants, but I’m afraid that does not make a trip to Port Freedom worth it, that’s several weeks journey and I can’t pay my crew on that.”
Ormitor sipped his wine at the same time that Dexter felt something brush against his leg. He glanced over at Jarnella and found her staring at him with a smoky smile on her face. The touch came again, sliding up the inside of his calf, confirming his suspicions that it was her foot, bereft of the sandal she had been wearing. Dexter quickly took a long pull of his own ale to hide the surprised expression on his face.