Within A Captain's Soul

by Lisa A. Olech

  “May I make a humble suggestion?”

  Jun’s jaw tightened. With Peng, nothing was ever humble and Jun was certain she knew what his suggestion might be. “When have I ever prevented you from speaking your mind?”

  “It is a small boon for us that he’s retrieved what appears to be his ship’s logs. I say we confiscate them at once. They would hold all the information we would want regarding his journey here. He appears well enough to be put into service. Certainly, he cannot be used upon one of our ships, but as a slave…”

  Jun stopped and turned back to Peng. “Why wouldn’t he be able to join one of our crews?”

  Peng waved a hand in Captain Quinn’s direction. “The man cannot hear for one thing. He’s hardly fit for a life of pirating.”

  “Have you forgotten that he captained his own ship?”

  “So he scribbled on a bit of parchment.” Peng continued to point at the captain’s back. “How do we know he isn’t lying to us? I’ve never heard of a deaf seaman before, let alone a deaf captain. Was he sailing a merchant ship? How would he have led a crew? He doesn’t even speak. How would he have issued a simple order? Did this alleged crew read his mind?” He indicated the bag she still carried. “Write each other notes on stones? We don’t even know if he truly is who he says he is.”

  The urge to vehemently defend Will caught Jun by surprise. Her jaw tightened again. Sweat slid down from her headdress to dampen her temple.

  Peng continued. “You assume a great many things about this man, and I’m curious as to why. You’re not usually one to overlook such vital facts. Take those books from him. I bet they will confirm my suspicions if nothing else. Let me and my men interrogate him fully. If he’s lying, I’ll get the truth out of him one way or another. And then I say put him in chains. He has a strong back. We can use it maintaining our fleet, scraping hulls, mending nets. Make him pay for our hospitality.”

  “And what if you’re wrong?” She tipped her head at Peng.

  He gave her a smug smile while tugging at his beard. “I’m not.”

  Jun turned away. “I think you are.” She kept walking.

  “Your reaction to this man is most disturbing. I’ve never known you to be so blinded.” Peng’s accusing tone rankled her. “What hold does he have upon you?”

  A very tender hold. In Jun’s mind, a gentle hand cradled her overheated breast. She closed her eyes to another heated rush.

  Shaking the image from her thoughts she turned back to Peng in exasperation. “You think stripping this man of the one possession he still claims and making him a slave is the proper thing to do?”

  “How else will we get our hands on those logs?”

  “I don’t suppose we could…” Jun spread her arms wide. “Oh, let me just toss this insane idea about… Why don’t we simply ask him to see them?”

  “He’ll not show us.” Peng hissed.

  Jun planting her hands on her hips. “He’ll show them to me. In good time, I’ll get him to hand them to me of his own will. You know, some things do not require brute force to obtain. Not everything needs to happen at the broad threat of your blade.”

  The muscle in his jaw pulsed. “I put my original question back to you, then. What are we to do with him?”

  She glanced back at the “him” in question. “Whatever I deem appropriate.” Jun caught Will appraising the ships in the harbor. “I’m not convinced he wouldn’t make a fine addition to one of our crews. Or perhaps I will keep him here. He makes quite the imposing figure. Perhaps a private guard?”

  “I don’t think it’s wise to keep him so close.”

  We couldn’t get too much closer than we did last night. “Some of these decisions may not be ours.”

  “It would be if we stopped treating him as a distinguished guest and more of the intruder he is.” Peng’s voice rose.

  It was obvious their disagreement would continue to circle upon itself. Jun tried to placate him. “Patience, I understand your concern, but I’d like to take some time to learn all I can about Captain Quinn and his travels here. Information is power. If I’m to gather that power, I need to get him to relax and confide in me. Trust me. I think it would, therefore, be wise to give him the freedom to come and go as he pleases.”

  Peng blew a frustrated breath and held her gaze for a long moment. “At least, allow me to send word through the fleet asking if anyone knows of a ship called the Scarlet Night. While we wait, let me put a watch on him should he leave the walls of the palace. He can’t be allowed free run of the village. Not until we learn his full story.”

  “Fine, but keep your man at a fair distance. I don’t want him to know he’s being followed.” The idea that Peng’s man might make it difficult for her to spend time with Captain Quinn alone had her emphasizing one key point. “And only when he leaves the palace. Otherwise, I will personally see to the man and find out what I can.”

  “I still don’t like the idea of you spending so much time with him.”

  Jun tipped her head and gave him a hard stare. “What is it you fear, Peng? Not my physical harm, surely. Do you worry about my reputation? Or perhaps you’re concerned that he will seduce me? That the sight of a handsome man might turn my head? Turn me into a blushing schoolgirl? Make me forget who I am and jeopardize all I have worked so hard to achieve?”

  “Possibly.” Peng didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

  “You have forgotten one thing. I am the ice queen.” She turned her back on him and strode away, following the broad back of Captain Quinn. His long stride emphasizing the shape of his legs and backside. And I’ll decide when and with whom I choose to thaw…

  * * * *

  Back in the great hall, Jun lost sight of Captain Quinn as she was surrounded by her constant responsibilities. It was only later, after dismissing the scribes and ministers, that she could seek him out.

  Blissfully, she’d shed her heavy headdress and armor for a cooler tunic, but remained in her black wardrobe. Her hair trailed in a single braid down the center of her back. Her excuse to find him was valid should anyone question, still the eyes of the hall watched as she moved toward the east corridor.

  She carried a small bowl of fruit, having not seen him at the noon meal. The writing stone hung from one shoulder. At this hour of the day, she encountered several curious servants who startled at seeing her and scrambled to bow at her passing. Even given the proper purpose of her visit to the captain’s rooms, she couldn’t help but feel a flush of guilt. Had she not snuck down these same corridors last night…and been plagued by sultry thoughts all morning…

  Standing before his door, Jun paused, uncertain. Unlike last night, she was not slipping into a sleeping man’s room like the mist off the sea. Yet how does one knock on the door of a deaf man?

  The air in the corridor was stale and stuffy. The air in his room was not any better when she entered. Her tunic clung to her skin. Will’s back was to her, and she took a moment to once again admire the wide set of his shoulders as he toiled at a task. He was washing. Or at least he was working at his bowl and pitcher.

  As she watched him, he stopped, straightened his back. Lifting his chin, he sniffed the air like an animal sensing a predator. Coiled like a taught spring, he spun around. His one hand reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. The other clutched a dripping scrap of red sail.

  Jun held up one hand in surrender. “It’s only me. I’m sorry, I startled you. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

  Upon seeing her his shoulders lowered and he visibly relaxed. Giving her a small nod, he returned the sodden sail back into the bowl before drying his hands. The wide sleeves of his shirt were rolled back to his elbows revealing strong tanned forearms.

  “I wasn’t sure how to make my presence known to you before coming in.” He watched her mouth. It made her self-conscious. She bit the inside of her lip. “I thought you might
be hungry.” Jun raised the bowl she carried.

  He made a small gesture by quickly touching the tips of his fingers against his chin before taking the fruit from her hands. Wasn’t that the same gesture he made last night? He set the bowl aside.

  She started to tell him he should eat to rebuild his strength, but stopped and remembered with a start the bag she held. Jun raised it so he could see, and pulled the writing slate and gypsum.

  I’m sorry I try to speak with you, when you cannot understand. Jun wrote the words and turned the slate for him to see before scrubbing the back of her hand over the slate and continuing. I wanted you to have this. She tapped the stone. I apologize for disturbing you.

  The captain took the slate, erased what she wrote and simply scribbled. Didn’t.

  “Man of few words,” Jun spoke to herself. The intensity of his stare made her uneasy. “You may not hear me, yet you miss nothing. As if you sense the words. Feel them.”

  He lifted his eyes from her mouth to pin her with his gaze. Tapping the slate, he handed it back to her. Jun was at a sudden loss for words herself. With so much to say and to ask, where should she begin? Glancing about the room, she noted the log box resting upon the floor next to the bed. She also realized the washing he was tending to when she entered was the piece of sail he had saved from the wreckage of his ship.

  I am so very sorry for your loss, Captain Quinn, she wrote. We never harden to the loss of our crewmates.

  He shook his head slowly.

  How many were lost? Jun held up the slate.

  With his long, wide fingers he indicated the number forty-three.

  Terrible loss. Jun wrote.

  He nodded, then sat on the edge of his bed. He motioned for her to sit with him. When she did he took the slate from her.

  I thank you for what you did last night. He paused to give her time to read before continuing. Not in my right mind.

  Jun met his gaze and placed a gentle hand on his arm in reply. She struggled for the words to ease his pain, make it better for him. Tell him she understood the kind of devastation he’d suffered. Before she could, he continued writing.

  Appreciate your hospitality, Will move on as soon as I’m able.

  Move on? No. She was quick to take the slate. You’re free to stay as long as you need, Captain.

  Call me Will.

  Jun smiled. “Will.” She repeated it. Twice. She liked the way it sounded. It was a good strong name. She nodded and said it again. A pure expression of wonder crossed over his face as he watched her mouth. She covered her lips with her fingertips. The room was already stifling, yet heat rose to her cheeks. Her clothing clung to her damp skin. Simple breathing became a race against the beating of her heart. His stare flustered her. When had simply saying a man’s name become so intimate?

  Averting her eyes from the power of his gaze, she wrote under his words, You must call me Jun.

  Will made several gestures with his hands. He pointed to the slate and made an odd sweeping movement using his pinkie finger alongside his chin. Was that how he said her name? When she mimicked him with the same motion, he smiled. A stunning white smile. It was if the clouds parted and the sun blazed out from behind. The effect was intoxicating. The race was over. Jun’s breath caught in her chest.

  He then pointed to his own name and showed her how to hold three fingers wide before tapping his temple. All at once, Jun was an inquisitive child again learning new words at her mother’s elbow. “Will,” she signed as she said the word, then smiled back at him.

  Will nodded with approval. It took all Jun’s resolve not to throw her arms around his neck and kiss his beautiful, grinning lips.

  Chapter 10

  Watching Jun sign his name was like getting hit in the chest…with a cannonball. When had such a simple thing taken on such an extraordinary meaning? She looked so pleased with herself at learning the two simple signs of their names. She reminded him briefly of another.

  Other than Tupper, there had only been one woman in his life that had bothered to learn how to communicate with him. The image of Samantha Christian flashed through his mind.

  Samantha had come aboard the Scarlet Night dressed as a cabin boy to escape from Virginia several years ago. He’d lost his young heart to her, and quickly had it handed back to him on a bloody platter. The two holes in his back were a painful reminder that he had foolishly fallen in love with a woman who had fallen in love with someone else.

  But Samantha had never known him as Will. She only called him Bump. And Tupper, too. Griffin and the crew referred to him only as Captain.

  Jian Jun was the first then. That single realization launched another cannonball.

  Bloody hell.

  Her eyes sparkled with excitement. A pink blush brightened the tops of her cheeks. The warmth of the room had added a shimmer to her face, her throat, to the vee of pale skin leading into the top of her blouse toward the gentle valley between her breasts. He imagined finding a different warmth there.

  Good God, man. She only signed your name.

  Will stood before he did something to earn him two more holes in his back. He’d been rinsing the sand and salt out of the bit of Scarlet’s sail when she’d came in. He returned to the bowl and wrung out the bit of cloth. After it dried, he’d write the names of the forty-three on its cloth and attend to their souls.

  Turning back to Jun, he was once again struck by her beauty. Even dressed in trousers and tall boots like a man, even knowing of her power and strength, she couldn’t hide her womanly appeal. He’d already seen the soft edges of her. Will refused to admit he had somehow dreamed the vision of her delicate breasts. Looking at her now, through her clinging clothing, he could imagine the rest of her.

  Thank goodness what his tunic lacked in width, it more than adequately made up in length. Still he tugged at its hem to hide the hardening evidence of his lustful musings. Had the water in that bowl not been full of sand and grit, he’d have gladly used it to douse the flames in his pants.

  Jun wrote something else on the slate before holding it up to him. There is no air in this room. She plucked at her neckline.

  He couldn’t agree more.

  She continued. You should come visit my gardens. They are lovely and cool.

  Will hesitated, fixing her with a stare. Jun quickly scribbled, We could share our evening meal there if you’d like?

  Said Eve as she offered the apple.

  Will stifled a smirk at his thoughts. Spending an evening with her in a garden was tempting, but he needed to keep his head. This was Jian Jun after all. She was fond of removing heads from fools stupid enough to underestimate her. Was a blissful dinner all she was after? Caution would be wise. Regardless of his body’s obvious want of her, his mind warned him against her. This is exactly how the two, his body and his head, would lose touch with one another. Had those twenty heads decorating the harbor been dinner dates as well?

  Still, an evening enjoying a cool meal surrounded by her beauty might be worth losing his head. Perhaps he could coax her into giving him one of her many ships. Surely she wouldn’t miss one small junk. ‘I would be honored,’ he signed with a bow before stepping to retrieve the slate and answering, Yes.

  Jun smiled her pleasure at his answer. She stood then and pressed her palm to her pinked cheeks. Looking about the room, she said something. Perhaps remarking on the heat once again, but then her attention was captured by the box at her feet. Jun bent to retrieve it, running her fingertips over the ornate carving on its lid after she rested it on the bed.

  Will’s earlier caution flared. Did she know he was a pirate? Would she see him as a threat to her and her fleet? Or the price on his head would make her a tidy profit for turning his arse over to the British. Certainly, all the evidence she would need to hang him was in that box. Accounts of conquests, tallies of bounty, the names of the ships they’d atta
cked. The Scarlet Night was not as well known in this sector of the world, so she could just as easily believe him to be a wayward merchant. It might be safer for him if she did.

  He was quick to ease it out of her grasp. The last thing he wanted was to heighten her curiosity, but these were secrets he would be wise to keep. Will moved the box back to the floor and did the only thing he could think of to disguise his action. Taking her hand, he placed it over his heart and covered it with his own.

  Surprised eyes met his as he then lifted her hand and turned it over to press his lips to her palm. He sensed the slight tremor radiate through her and smiled. Oh, yes, she wasn’t thinking about his logs anymore.

  Several hours later, he headed toward Jian Jun’s secluded quarters. Her maid, Ting, led him through the great hall. Long shafts of late afternoon light sliced through the haze and highlighted the intricate patterns in the floor’s inlay. Jun’s first mate, General Chou Peng, glared at Will as he passed. He’d asked Jun his name earlier. She’d laughed when he referred to him as the skinny sea urchin in royal king’s robes. The description fit him perfectly, however.

  Jun indicated that Peng had been with her as her first mate for years, and she relied on him a good deal. Will decided it would be wise to give the man a wide berth. If he were to get off this island, he’d have to mind where he stepped. Chou Peng may not look like a physical threat, but might and brawn were not necessary when the man had Jun’s entire fleet at his disposal.

  Ting touched his sleeve to get his attention. A gentle woman with a scrubbed, wide face, and hair pulled taut into a thin braid that reached clear to the back of her knees. He learned her name as well when Jun informed him, Ting would come gather him for their dinner. She pointed to a narrow door set behind the dais where Jun sat to oversee her empire. Standing to one side she bowed low as he passed. Her braid slipped over her shoulder.

  Will entered Jun’s private oasis. Exotic smells of flowers and moist, cool earth filled the space. The room itself was nothing like he expected. It was as if he had stepped out of the great hall into another world. A feminine oasis. Muted shades of color adorned the modest furnishings, tall vases spilled an overflow of flowers, and plants of all description set in decorative pots crowded every corner. Door frames, rounded on the tops, continued the shape of the domed ceiling painted with a pale sky and pink tinged clouds. Sheer curtains danced in the breeze coming from twin sets of doors that stood open leading out into a magnificent outer courtyard.