'I don't, really,' Vivacia added hastily.
Kennit went on speaking as if he hadn't heard her. 'I don't enjoy watching his pain, either. But what sort of a man would I be to turn away from it? Shall I turn aside from one who has taken hurt for my sake? For four years, my ship has been the only home that he has known. He wanted to be part of the boarding party today-Oh, how I wish Sorcor had stopped him! I know he did it to impress me.' Kennit's voice choked with emotion. 'Poor lad. Young as he is, he was still willing to risk everything for what he has come to believe in.' His words came tighter as he said, 'I fear I have been the death of him. If I had not undertaken this crusade…'
Etta could not help herself. She had never heard Kennit speak such words. She had never imagined he carried such a depth of pain inside him. She stepped close to him and took his hand. 'Oh, Kennit,' Etta said softly. 'Oh, my dear, you cannot take it all upon yourself. You cannot.'
For an instant, he stiffened as if affronted. The figurehead glared at her. Then Kennit turned and to her shock, he dropped his head down to rest it on her shoulder. 'But if I do not?' he asked wearily. 'Oh, Etta, if I do not take this on, who will?'
Her heart broke with tenderness for the strong man who suddenly leaned on her. She lifted her hand to the back of his head. His hair was silky under her touch as she stroked it. 'It will come out right. You'll see. Many love you and will follow you. You must not take it all upon your own shoulders.'
'Whatever would I do without them? I could not go on.' His shoulders shook briefly, as if he suppressed a sob. He coughed instead.
'Captain Kennit,' Vivacia said in dismay, 'I did not mean that I don't share your ideals. I only said I was not sure if I was ready to completely-'
'It's all right. No, really, it's all right.' His reply cut off the ship's even as his tone dismissed her words as mere courtesy. 'We have only known one another a short time. It is far too soon for me to ask you to throw your fate in with mine. Good night, Vivacia.' He drew in a long breath, let it out as a sigh. 'Etta, my sweet. I fear my leg pains me tonight. Could you help me to our bed?'
'Of course.' It touched her. 'Bed would be wisest. There was some scented oil on the Crosspatch. I took some; I know how your crutch makes your back and shoulder ache. Let me warm the oil and rub them for you.'
He leaned on her as she assisted him away from the railing. 'Your faith in me gives me such strength, Etta,' he confided to her. He stopped suddenly and she halted beside him, confused. With an odd deliberation, he took her chin in his hand and turned her face up to his. He leaned down and kissed her slowly. Sensation washed through her, not just the warm press of his lips on hers and his strong arms around her, but the openness of this demonstration of affection. He ran his hands over her, the fabric of her skirt crackling to his touch as he snugged her close to him. He had placed her on a pinnacle for all to see his feelings as he kissed her. She felt glorified by it. He broke the kiss at last, but kept his arms around her. She trembled like a virgin.
'Wintrow,' Kennit said quietly. Etta turned her head to find the young man looking up at them wide-eyed. 'If anything happens with Opal, in the night. You will come to me right away?'
'Yes, sir,' Wintrow whispered. His eyes traveled over both of them. Awe like hunger was in his eyes.
'Come, Etta. To our bed. I need the comfort of your closeness. I need to feel your belief in me.'
To hear him speak such words aloud dizzied her. 'I am beside you always,' she assured him. She took his crutch from him to help him descend to the main deck.
'Kennit,' Vivacia called after him. 'I believe in you. In time, I will be ready.'
'Of course you will,' he said politely. 'Good night, ship.'
It took a year to cross the deck and another before she could close the door of their cabin behind them. 'Let me warm the oil,' she offered. But as she held it over the lamp, he limped over to her. He took the half- warmed oil from her hands and set it aside. For an instant, he frowned at her, his brows knit as if she presented a problem. She looked at him questioningly. He braced his crutch under his arm and lifted his hands to her throat. He caught his lower lip between his teeth as his large hands struggled with the fine ribbon that closed her shirt. She put her hands up to untie it for him, but with amazing gentleness, he set them aside. 'Allow me,' he said softly.
She shivered as he painstakingly negotiated the ties and buttons of her clothes. He drew off each separate piece and dropped it to one side. Never before had he done such a thing. When she stood naked before him, he took up the dish of oil. He dipped his fingers in it. 'Like this?' he asked her uncertainly. His trailing fingers left shining tracks on her breasts and belly. She gasped at the lightness of his touch as he anointed her. He bent his head to kiss the side of her throat. He herded her gently toward the bed. She went willingly, though puzzled at this strange behavior.
He lay himself down beside her and touched her. He watched her face the whole time, taking note of her every reaction. He leaned close to her and whispered into her ear. 'Tell me what to do, to please you.' The admission shocked her. He had never done this before; she was the first woman he had ever tried to please. It made her catch her breath. Suddenly his boyish incompetence was sweepingly erotic. He offered no resistance as she took his hands and guided them on herself. Never had he offered her this dominance; it was heady.
He was not an apt pupil. His touch was hesitant, and as sweet as honeysuckle nectar. She could not look long at his intent face; she feared she would weep if she did, and he would not understand that. Instead, she surrendered herself to him. She watched him learn, guided by the sudden intake of her breath and the other small sounds that she could not control. A pleased smile began to hover around his mouth and his eyes grew brighter. She could almost see him learn that being able to bring her this much pleasure was a form of mastery. As the realization grew in him, his touch grew surer, but never rough. When he finally joined his body to hers, her release was immediate. Then came the tears she could not restrain. He kissed them away and began again.
She lost track of time. When her entire body was so satiated and so sensitized that his touch was almost painful, she spoke quietly. 'Please, Kennit. Enough.'
A slow smile came to his face. He eased away from her, letting cooler air touch them both. Suddenly he leaned over and flicked the tiny skull charm at her navel. She winced at the impact. The little ring of wizardwood that pierced her navel protected her from both diseases and pregnancy.
'Does this come off?' he asked her brusquely.
'It could,' she conceded. 'But I am careful. It has never…'
'And then you could get pregnant.'
Her breath caught in her throat. 'I could,' she admitted guardedly.
'Good.' He lay down beside her with a contented sigh. 'I might want you to have a child. If I wanted you to have a baby, you'd do that for me, wouldn't you?'
Her throat clenched so she could scarcely speak. She whispered, 'Oh, yes. Yes.'
NIGHT WAS DEEP WHEN KENNIT AWAKENED TO A SCRATCHING AT THE DOOR.
'What is it?' he called hoarsely. Beside him, the woman slept on deeply.
'It's Wintrow. Captain Kennit… sir. Opal's dead. He just… died.'
That wasn't good. The whole idea had been that Opal would endure pain, and then survive it. He was supposed to be an object lesson for Vivacia. Kennit shook his head in the darkness. Now what? Could it be saved?
'Captain Kennit?' Wintrow sounded desperate.
Kennit pitched his voice low. 'Don't question it, Wintrow. Accept it. That's all we can do. We are, after all, only men.' He sighed loudly, and then put concern in his voice. 'Go get some rest, lad. Tomorrow morning is soon enough to face this sorrow.' He paused. 'I know you tried, Wintrow. Don't feel you have failed me.'
'Sir.' After a moment, he heard the soft pad of the boy's feet as he moved away. Kennit lay back down. So. What would he say to the ship tomorrow? Something about a sacrifice, something that made Opal seem noble and inspiring instead of just dead. The words would come to him, if he just relaxed and trusted to his luck. He put his arms up above his head and leaned back on his pillows. His back ached abominably. He had had no idea that women had such stamina.
'Vivacia is roiling with jealousy. But that was what you intended, wasn't it?'
He turned slightly toward the charm on his wrist. 'If you know so much, why do you ask so many questions?'
'To hear you admit what a cad you are. Do you feel anything at all for Etta? Are not you ashamed at all at what you do to her?'
