The couple embraced with moonlight filtering through the rustling branches above.

“I have missed you, sir,” Renatta whispered. She rested her head against the bare part of his chest through the open collar of his dark brown shirt. Her brunette ringlette trailed half down her back.

Peter’s brown hair was straight and though almost as long as her’s, held in a pony tale. “And I you, my princess.” His fully bearded chin touched the top of her head.

She pulled back, holding his hands. Her white dress swayed at her feet and the breeze blew her black cape behind her.

He released her hands and undid the knot at her neck holding the cape. He folded it and lay it on one of the surrounding rocks.

She stood and awaited the praite’s order. She shivered.

A concerned look crossed his brown eyes. “Winter comes soon.”

“But you are the Winter Pirate,” she said with a snark.

“Do you mock me, lady?” He put hands on his hips at her defiance.

She smiled and shook her head. “Of course I do, my love.”

He chuckled and then gave the order, “Kneel.”

Renatta did as commanded. Her dress fanned out on the dark grass beneath her.

“Now, what do you want?” Peter un-knotted his belt and pants.

She looked up and ringlets of brown hair fell from her face. “To please you, sir.”

He smiled as he stepped forward towards her, just enough so her mouth could take his already formed erection. His hand cupped the back of her head. He noted some light flickering through the trees from the fire where Thoms and Margrite waited for them. Peter smiled and hoped they would please each other as well.

Peter and Renatta joined flesh for three hours. He brought her to three orgasms. She accepted his orgasm between her lips, on her chest and between her legs.  They moved as one, rarely speaking between lengthy kisses.

After finishing the latter, he slumped on the grass beside her. Both heaved to catch their breath.

In the silence, some crickets sang and the crackling fire of their minions could be heard nearby.

She rolled onto her side and lay her head on his belly with her hand lightly stroking his unarmed penis. “I wish we did not have to do this.”

His hand ran through her locks. “I as well, my Renatta. Your parents will frown on our love.”

She laughed and kissed his flaccid tip. “They want to marry me off.”

“To whom?”

“I don’t know. If they decide on Wallis there will be a problem when he finds out I have already been taken.”

“Tell him it was by a pirate who will slit his throat if he says anything.”

“He is a religious zealot and that won’t help.” She took his tip full in her mouth and sucked on the new stirring of an erection. She slipped her lips off and continued, “I still taste your seed, and I want more, my love. May I?”

“You may.”

She cupped his balls with her right hand, and held his shaft upright with her left before slipping her lips over it again and again.  After swallowing another climax, she lay on her back.

“We must go, my love. They will note your absence.”

“Have you…?”

Peter sat up and kissed her erect left nipple. Her breasts were tiny, but perfect to him. “Have I what?” His lips now suckled it.

“Stop that, my love, or I’ll never let you leave.”

He smiled and followed her instructions. Standing, he reached down and helped her to her feet. “Now, have I what?”

“Slit a throat?”  She shivered as she embraced him to her naked skin one last time.

“No, I let Thoms spill the blood for me.”

She smacked his shoulder for teasing her.

“Speaking of,” he said and looked off towards the flickering firelight. His voice called out, “Thoms, be awake! We move shortly!”

Muffled voices and what sounded like laughing followed.

He pulled his shirt and pants on. Then sat on one of the rocks to pull his boots back.  “As for a serious answer, I have only had to kill once and that was still when I was in your father’s military.  I am not proud of it.  I know the legend of the Winter Pirates say we rape, pillage and plunder…but it is utter horse shit.”  He stood and picked up her cape.  “We only take from those who are greedy, you know this.  My crew has no blood upon its hands.  And with my love for you, I dare not rape…and I think Thoms has a similar soft spot for Margrite, so I doubt he would, either.”

She finished pulling herself into her dress and turned her back to Peter so he could place the cape over her shoulders.  After tying it again at her neck, she turned back to him.  “So my love is Robin Hood, is he?”  She hugged him tightly.

Peter laughed.  “I do not believe Robin Hood carried a pistol.”  He leaned down and kissed the petite woman in his arms.  There tongues danced one last time.  He then led her by the hand out of the bush and to the clearing where they found Thoms and Margrite embraced in their goodbye as well.

Margrite and Renatta untethered their horses and quickly headed north.

Thoms and Peter watched them quickly vanish into the darkness.

“Peter?”

“Yes, Graham.”  Peter only used Thoms’ first name when they were alone.  The man was his first mate, but Peter would give his life for his dear friend if it came to that.

“What happens when she marries?”

Peter chuckled, “We’ll burn that bridge when we cross it.  Best we be getting back before they burn the ship on us, eh?”


Ten months later

“Sir, one of Renatta’s hand maidens comes with a message,” came the muffled sound of Jordan’s voice through the heavy wooden door.

He looked up from his wine goblet and book. “Show her in.”

The door popped open and Jordan ushered in a tall slim woman in a black cape and hood. The cape swayed slightly as the cool breeze came in through the open windows announcing that summer was now just a memory. Their shadows shot across the room in the candle light.

“Sir, apologies for the intrusion, but she insisted.”

Thoms walked in after a moment.  Four of the crew stood at the door to watch the exchange as Jordan stepped out of the captain’s quarters and joined them.

The woman’s shaking hands pulled back the hood.

He stood immediately. “Magrite, what is it?”

Thoms, seeing her difficulty steadying herself, stepped to her quickly and helped.

Her skin was noticeably pale, even in the dark room, save the swollen red pouch around each eye from tears. “It is Princess Renatta. She is ill, Peter.”

The crew murmured upon hearing the captain addressed by his first name.

He blinked and asked, “Is she dying?”

Margrite nodded. “The doctor says a week.”

He slumped back down in his chair.

“There is more,” she whispered.

He glanced up with a raised eyebrow. What more could their be? He sipped from his wine goblet.

“This illness is a complication, the doctor says, from her giving birth to a son.”

The crew in the hall snapped into silence.

“A son?” he asked without direction as to whom should answer.

She nodded.

“Hemmings!” he barked.

The shortest man in the hall snapped to attention. “Yes, captain?”

He looked at Jordan. “How many escorts?”

Jordan answered quickly and nodded towards Margrite. “M’lady and one escort.”

“Hemmings, take Margrite and her escort. Feed them and give them quarters. These are guests, not prey.”

“Sir?” Thoms cocked his head at Peter.

Peter rolled his eyes.  “Hemmings, belay that.  Give Margrite’s escort guest quarters.  Margrite shall share Thoms’ quarters.”

“Aye,” Hemmings answered with more question than acknowledgement. He quickly entered and offered her his arm to Margrite.

He continued. “Jordan, I assume they have horses. Tend to them and bring them aboard.”

“Aye, captain!” Jordan answered and followed Hemmings and Margrite.

He had one final order to give, “Holmes! We sail to Renatta as fast as we can.”

“Yes sir!” Holmes answered and pulled the captain’s quarters door shut.

Thom remained with his captain. His darting eyes showed thoughts. “Peter?”

“Yes, Graham?”

“What about the prophecy?”

He looked up at his first mate with amazement. The man had taken the first thought right from his own mind.

Both men said methodically together, “A pirate’s son will take the throne.”

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