Chapter 41: Ch. 40 The Ship Sails On

After the last couple of days being so slow, the busy morning felt that much quicker. Oh how Sammy and Julie could have happily spent hours in bed together. Still, they had the time to neatly tie their “wedding ribbons”, the impact of that little ritual just as strong as the day before, again sealed with a kiss.

The early hour spared Julie from another ladies’ breakfast, but it wasn’t a simple meal in the servants’ hall either. A buffet of assorted delicacies, served in small portions, Lady Jeelyo chatting the whole time.

Julie wasn’t sure how these ladies always had so much to say.

Once finished, they left in the early sunshine. Sammy had rejected offers of staff collecting the horses, so that was where they went, then on to the docks. Rain lingered in the roads’ gutters and the cracks between slabs, puddles here and there, but there was the chill in the air of a clear sky in spring; if not for the city air, Julie would have liked to breathe deep.

The ship Sammy had brokered their passage upon was truly a ship. It had the size and sails for ocean-going, a crew to match, more decks than simply above and below. However, Sammy spoke as they waited, telling Julie it was gutted out to fit more cargo—much like the one they crossed from Dworfen to Hufen. That there were other ships that sailed for days on end, needing places for the crew to sleep and cook, huge stores of water to drink, sailors taking shifts as the ship even travelled through the nights.

“What’s that far away?” Julie asked.

Sammy stilled at that question before breaking into a broad smile. “Well, no one quite knows. South of Schtat is too inhospitable for civilisation, but there are small communities in places, living amongst nature. However, the land far, far south must eventually come to an end. Sailing around it would then be a way to move goods from Dworfen and Sonlettier to Alfen without needing to go through Formadgo.”

Julie nodded along, the geography easy enough to follow.

“Or… one could sail west, due west, and eventually come to Alfen from the east.”

This wasn’t exactly a crazy idea to Julie. After all, everyone knew the world was round. What people didn’t know was how round. Maps only showed the three continents, not the vast emptiness of the oceans. Of course, there were clever people who knew how around it was; to then subtract the size of the continents was simple.

Sammy knew that number, knew the rough speeds a ship travelled, but she also knew that such speeds weren’t measured out in the oceans, that storms brought waves likes mountains—that many left and scarce few returned, none successful.

The trips south, by contrast, returned more often than not. There was only so much food and water that could be carried and a respectable captain knew when to turn back. If the western coast below Sonlettier wasn’t so barren, fishing villages could perhaps snake down, but there simply was no reason to, especially with the cities still ever-growing.

Not wishing to speak on such topics, Sammy left her tale of exploration where it was and Julie asked no more.

Besides, this ship was not taking them on a perilous voyage of discovery. While its vast size was to cross the sea from north to south, the prevailing winds made the journey back impossible, instead hopping along the coast from port to port.

Once aboard, they were treated to a private room. Not something Sammy had negotiated, but, the ship belonging to a chartered company, there were pages of guidelines, particularly for passengers—it especially wouldn’t do to offend the sensibilities of a noble guest. But, in this case, women were simply required to be separated from the crew unless accompanied by a man of standing (family member, husband, employer).

It rather reminded Sammy of the myth of chivalry. A code of conduct that forbid the “taking” of a defeated enemy’s women sounded like a good thing, except that it meant these “chivalrous” men had to have their status threatened lest they do it. After all, there was nothing said about cannibalism, so these rules were surely necessities.

Again, Sammy kept such dark thoughts to herself. Julie had no need to consider the ancient atrocities. And if Sammy could, she would rather not have such intrusive thoughts.

The size of the ship and the calm of the sea near the shore made for a comfortable journey. If not for the shouts, they wouldn’t have noticed when they set off. Well, not really; there was still a lurch, a sense of turning, the sight outside changing.

“Comfortable?” Julie asked.

Sammy almost spoke too soon, stopped herself when she saw Julie’s hand move, waited for that hand to rest on her abdomen, start rubbing a small circle. “I am now,” she whispered.

Julie giggled, carried on, and she said nothing when Sammy’s hand came to rest on her knee, giggled some more whenever Sammy gently squeezed her there. Such a ticklish spot.

Their room had a certain privacy, door locked, portholes high up, the light that entered timid. Oh they could see just fine, but the dim felt like they were hiding away—in an alley, or had drawn the curtains, or out in the woods. An intoxicating light and, when their eyes met, quite an intoxicating sight.

Something Julie had picked up from Sammy’s last monthly and even the first, Sammy liked to be held at these times. No, loved it, melting into the embrace. So Julie’s kisses didn’t linger, sweet as Sammy’s lips may have been. There was a disappointed groan from Sammy at that, but then Julie slipped one arm under Sammy’s knees, the other low on Sammy’s back, and carefully lifted her.

“What are you doing?” Sammy said, chiding words coated with laughter.

Julie didn’t dare split her focus and took Sammy to their bed in shuffling steps. Once Sammy was safely down, Julie climbed onto the end and crawled around to Sammy’s side. A little breathless, she said, “Let’s cuddle.”

Sammy smiled so broadly that it pinched her eyes. “Indeed, let’s.”

This all wasn’t entirely selfless of Julie. She had learned over the last two nights how much she yearned to touch Sammy, last night how she yearned for Sammy’s touch. Both dressed, there was little skin bared, but they held hands and their cheeks were pressed together, resting. Julie being the one half on top, she felt the rise and fall of Sammy’s chest, heard every breath.

The warmth Julie felt coming from Sammy’s body wasn’t like the warmth of a fire. She liked fires, felt at peace watching them. But Sammy’s warmth made her feel happy. There was a smile always tugging at her mouth and a certain lightness in her chest, kind of like what she felt after her morning exercise.

Some of Sammy’s words echoed in Julie’s mind, the words told to Lady Jeelyo: “What should be done is obvious and natural.”

Julie had long struggled with what she should be doing as Sammy’s lover. That they were both women hadn’t really been the issue, more just not knowing what lovers did. But there were moments where she had forgotten she didn’t know, moments where she had fixated on what she wanted to give Sammy instead of what Sammy wanted to take from her. Like their first kiss. Like last night. And what had happened had been natural, born from her love for Sammy.

Though Julie didn’t like to think about Sammy’s “other women”, she found some comfort, some pride, in not running away. That she had willingly taken those steps that the others had been too afraid to.

Letting go of Sammy’s hand, Julie reached up to touch the ribbon tied around Sammy’s neck.

That prompted Sammy to share her own pondering. “For a time, I thought I would have to make do with marrying the sort of man Chloé wishes to—someone I could pretend wasn’t really a man.”

Julie’s hand stilled.

“However, I came to realise that such a man would still be a man. I still felt no attraction to such a man with his softer appearance and, even with hands that lacked callouses, still felt disgust at his touch. Now that I have a wife, I truly know that such a compromise would have been the death of me.”

Hearing such a difficult thing, Julie did what came naturally and moved so she could kiss Sammy on the lips, a deep kiss as if trying to connect their hearts, lacking the urgency of passion. Steady and rhythmic, like the gentle lapping of waves.

When they broke apart, they gazed into each other’s eyes for as long as Julie’s arm could support her, then returned to their cuddling, only now with Julie near enough atop Sammy. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Sammy said nothing, looping her arms around Julie’s back instead.

So their morning passed in a calm mood. Midday, they stopped at a port for lunch and the crew’s break. Sammy used the time to change and wash her sanitary cloth too.

After that and a quick meal at a cosy inn, she and Julie wandered around the bustling town, interesting things to see in the stores this far east, no longer quite so similar to Sonlettier. The fashions were different, the building styles, even the skin colours—not just tanned like Julie, but also those with darker or richer shades. Julie tried not to stare, but it was so unusual to her, the only times before she saw such people when they accompanied envoys—envoys who usually looked like any other noble from Schtat.

These people were very different to the foreign guards. People laughing, smiling, dressed in the casual clothes of labourers or the well-to-do outfits of merchants. That also made it easy to stare, like seeing a nun playing sports.

Back at the docks, Sammy said, “A lot of trade from Alfen comes this way, as well as from Lapdose. The mountains to the south rather get in the way, so Lapdosian traders loop around to the east.”

Julie didn’t know much about Lapdose. Gyalty was the country north-east of Schtat that also bordered Sonlettier, Lapdose then farther east. But “farther” was a very loose term when Julie’s knowledge of geography pretty much stopped at the Schtish borders, what she knew of Sonlettier from the two countries’ close relationship.

“It’s rather funny. Due to complicated reasons of mercantile bickering, most Lapdosian goods that end up in Schtat actually come through Formadgo and Sonlettier. That is why their cheeses are particularly known, being something that can last the journey,” Sammy said, ending with a giggle.

Julie didn’t see what was funny about that, but found it interesting.

Once aboard again, the time outside had rather cooled them down, no more intimate than sitting beside each other. Of course, that didn’t mean their hands were idle. They held hands at first, then Sammy drew circles on the back of Julie’s hand with her forefinger, so then Julie caught that cheeky finger, gently massaging it with her thumb, and so it went.

Silence had long been common for them, too much time to be filled with even the most inane chatter. They were comfortable enough with it too.

At such times, Sammy couldn’t not think. As always, Sammy couldn’t help but think of Julie. Amidst the gentle rocking, the warm presence at her side, dimly lit room, Sammy thought.

Julie’s mind was not one to idle away either, which meant she was surprised by Sammy eventually speaking, then surprised again by the question.

“Would you still love me without the gods’ blessing?”

Rubbing her face with her free hand, Julie struggled to make sense of it. “What do you mean?” she asked, turning to look at Sammy.

“If not for the blessing, my hands would be like yours,” Sammy said, looking down at their joined hands, “stained by the sun, calloused by the reins. My face would likely be freckled, while my arms and legs would be toned with muscle.”

Sammy paused to chuckle being carrying on. “Well, we likely wouldn’t come so far. If not for this quest, we would be staying at the priory we visited, just like I had planned. And yet, if not for this quest, we would not even be lovers. I never sensed anything queer about you and I would never have pressured a servant of the estate into a relationship.”

She gave a more ironic laugh this time.

“Ah, it seems I have answered my own question.”

Though Sammy had said that, Julie still saw the question Sammy had tried to ask and dutifully put together an answer. After a while, she said, “If you change like that, I’ll still love you.”

Although Sammy had intended to leave things there, Julie’s answer spurred her on. “Would you think me any less beautiful?”

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That question was one Julie couldn’t answer, no matter how long passed. She wasn’t naive as to why Sammy was speaking of this, how her own answer would be used “against” her, yet she couldn’t bring herself to lie and say Sammy would be uglier for those changes.

After the silence dragged on for a while, Sammy asked, “May I touch you?”

Julie hesitated, their conversation making her sensitive. But she thought that was maybe why Sammy wanted to touch her now. So she gently nodded, whispering, “Okay.”

Sammy started with sliding Julie’s sleeve up a bit at a time. Last night, she had more felt than seen these new parts of Julie. Fair hair, so short and thin it was hard to see, her fingertips barely even feeling it.

A small beauty no painting or statue would ever capture.

Leaning down, Sammy left a kiss there—the kind of kiss that had to be covered up. Julie’s breath stilled, but made no complaint. Instead, she offered up her other hand, a flush climbing up her neck. Not one to ignore a request, Sammy left another mark on that arm.

Sammy then eased down to the floor. She touched the end of Julie’s trousers for a long second and, Julie saying nothing, then pulled them up to the knees. The hair here was a bit longer, more noticeable. However, it was rather fair, soft. A reminder of their age. Seventeen.

Now Sammy was this old, she knew just how young it still was—just as, in her youth, sixteen had always been the age a child became an adult. It turned out that having the legal option to marry and work was not sufficient.

In years to come, Sammy knew this hair would probably grow thicker, darker. It was hard for her to know exactly how it would look because women covered up their legs—and arms. Some itch at the back of her mind hated having hair on herself, had shaved any and all since it had begun to grow, but she didn’t hate this fair hair. Truthfully, though, she didn’t know how she would feel if it came to resemble a man’s leg hair.

Despite her gaze focused there, Sammy’s hands had been far from idle, massaging the muscle on Julie’s lower leg. Any excuse to work in her fingers. Those ministrations led Julie to tap Sammy with her other foot, that leg feeling left out. Sammy let out a titter and complied with the request.

Altogether, this session had been much milder than the night before’s, but it felt just as intimate to Julie. She was so much more conscious this time, feeling every touch instead of lost to the feelings. And every touch felt so deliberate—this wasn’t Sammy going overboard in a moment of passion.

Beyond that, Julie felt something intense whenever their eyes met. The way Sammy looked up at her from down on the floor. Her heart stirred, the beginnings of whispering urges.

From there they moved to cuddling and then later onto reading. There wasn’t much else to do in their room, even the portholes too high for sightseeing. Neither minded.

In the early evening, the ship pulled into port for the night. Sammy and Julie first found a comfortable place for their horses, not wanting to leave them in the slings the entire trip, then checked out some of the inns for a place to eat and stay the night (since they were here and would have to come collect their horses anyway, not to mention Sammy needed to do washing).

Neither felt all that tired from their day of idling. So they danced, danced to Sammy’s quiet tune, swaying, shuffling, holding each other close.

In the morning, Julie found time to practise with her sword. The rust hadn’t set in like at the start of their journey, but she felt less honed, upset with herself for being lax. After all, she knew only too well that swordswomanship didn’t come naturally to her. Especially now they weren’t even riding, she knew she needed to work harder to keep her strength and endurance, years of training needed to make her competent.

When Sammy heard Julie’s worries, she gave the broadest smile. “We shall have to practise some more strenuous dancing.”

Julie heard no reason to be concerned by either the words or tone, so nodded. “Sure.”

Once their morning routines were finished, they used the last of their free time to exercise their horses outside of town. Julie worried that would be awkward for Sammy, since she had to ride side-saddle, but that worry proved unfounded as Sammy rode Faith faster than Julie could keep up—one of them had been riding horses their entire lives and it wasn’t Julie. Not to mention, until this journey, Sammy had mostly ridden side-saddle anyway.

Aboard the ship, their day was little different to the day before. Teen-aged lovers, behind the privacy of a locked door and high-up windows, did what came naturally.

Evening, they meandered around another port town. There was a lot of similarities between them owing to the trade route, the same sorts of goods and people passing through, but this one stood out for its stonier aesthetic, Sammy guessing there was a nearby quarry and Julie thinking that guess made sense.

For dinner, there was no escaping pastas and peetas. The styles and ingredients certainly changed, but Julie had come to realise that these were the staples, much like bread and potatoes in Schtat. She hadn’t become sick of them yet. One of the nice things about following a trade route—instead of country roads or winding forest trails—was that there was no shortage of flavourful ingredients. Especially tomatoes, something that Julie never ate back in Schtat.

In their room, they then settled for a while to digest, Sammy reading aloud. When it came time to dance, Sammy ended up rather pouting.

“I suppose this will be good practise for you to dance lightly,” Sammy said, getting into position.

“What does that mean?” Julie asked.

Instead of close enough to be called an embrace, Sammy kept them at arms’ length, their hands positioned for a formal dance with the small quirk of both being leaders, Sammy taking the left-handed role. Whispering the four-part beat, she guided Julie along the edges of the box their steps followed. There was barely enough room.

Once they were comfortable with the rhythm, Sammy said, “Now, try to keep up.”

Before Julie could ask what that meant, Sammy began counting—faster. Faster and faster. What had been so simple and effortless quickly became an overwhelming panic in Julie’s mind, her movements needing to be consciously done, balance often slipping out her grasp. If not for Sammy’s steadying hold, Julie knew she would have fallen over many times.

Making it all the harder, Julie’s breaths couldn’t catch up and that thinned her thoughts, eventually feeling more like Sammy was dragging her around than dancing herself. Muscles in her legs ached, not used to how she was moving about with her weight on her toes. Heart pounded, more intense than simply running, her core muscles constantly tensed.

And Sammy merely broke a sweat, her breaths as even as ever as she calmly spoke the beat.

It lasted half an hour, but what a lifetime that felt to Julie, her only saving grace that she was no stranger to pushing her body to its limits. But it wasn’t the end of the dancing, Sammy slowing the pace to a standstill, then coming in close, her hands sliding to Julie’s lower back, holding her wife as tightly as a wife ought to be held. Not one to be out-wifed, Julie clung to Sammy and that was definitely in no part to prevent herself from collapsing.

There was a selfishness to this. Sammy breathed deep the scent she had come to love, the smell of Julie’s effort. An odour that should have been odious, yet she knew what love did to a person, knew that her love had muddled her senses, her senses muddled her mind.

Sammy knew that love and lust made a person disgusting inside and out. Filled them with depraved desires, encouraged them to indulge.

Just the scent not enough to satisfy her, Sammy brought her lips to Julie’s neck and tasted the sweat. And Julie shivered, trying to move away, but failing with Sammy’s arms around her. Still, Sammy refrained from having another taste.

“What’re you doing?” Julie mumbled.

“Shall I clean you to show my affection?” Sammy whispered, breath tickling Julie’s ear.

Julie shivered again. “I’m all sweaty—isn’t it disgusting?”

“Do I smell disgusting?” Sammy asked back, setting the trap.

Julie hadn’t noticed anything pungent, but sniffed now. And she knew she should have smelled Sammy’s sweat and it should have reminded her of being back in the barracks… just that, it almost smelled…. “Sweet.”

Sammy sprung the trap: “Won’t you have a taste too?”

Any objections Julie may have made before were silent beneath the haze of passion. It helped that she was still light-headed, that she felt Sammy’s body pressed against her, that she was now so conscious of Sammy’s scent.

Julie gave in.

“How do I taste?” Sammy whispered.

Julie wanted to answer with another lick, but the thinnest of conscience kept her modest, so she brought her lips to meet Sammy’s—a less embarrassing answer. All the talk of tasting one another may have influenced how deep the kiss grew.

When their lips eventually parted, Sammy drew them into simply swaying back and forth. Then, once their passions cooled, she pulled back enough to gaze into Julie’s eyes. No sooner had she than smiles blossomed. By now, it was impossible for them not to smile at such times.

Smile turning mischievous, Sammy asked, “Shall we practise some lifts too?”

Unaware what that meant, Julie agreed and soon regretted it. Well, her muscles regretted it, but she was delighted to give Sammy that same sensation of being thrown up into the air, even if Sammy did half the work by jumping at the same time.

Sleep came easy to them that night.

Two days became three, four, a week. Sammy’s monthly ran its course and that led to the two becoming even more indulgent, clothing evermore in the way. It began with hiking up their lowerwear so skin could touch skin when their legs entwined, rolling up sleeves. Then later on, definitely not because of Sammy’s seductive persuasion, they danced in their underwear—to stay cooler and not soil their clothes with sweat and they would wipe down afterwards anyway.

All the while, the ship moved along the coast, finally coming to the eastern edge of the sea.

“The southern mountain range is rather steep and tall. We shall stay on another stop, then follow the trading route over,” Sammy said.

“Okay,” Julie softly said.

Sammy smiled. “Goodnight, wife.”

Though already smiling, Julie’s mouth stretched a little wider. “G’night, wife,” she whispered.

And a good night it was.

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