The Vengeful Tide Ch. 02

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

*****

I continued to hold my mother. Her body beguiled me with the returning lust that I had experienced earlier in the day with Ellen. The wet drops of water that she hadn't been able to wipe off slowly, sensually, dripped from her form. I could feel her shivering arms in my hands. Whether she was shivering because the room was cold, or because I had so swiftly restrained her was up to debate if anyone dared care.

My mother continued to look at me with an expression of fear and anger. Now, my mother was not known to be a fearful woman. The life of a pirate has an interesting way of cutting and scrubbing the disease of fear from the mind and body. She was no different, but it was different for my mother now. She was weak, ill, and pale. These conditions have their ways of worming fear back into the spirit.

I dare none to make the mistake that I do not respect my mother. A true pirate respects his roots as much as his own ship. That is why I would take charge of this family, and that is why she would bend to my whims. I knew what was best for us.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my mother shift one of her legs. I frowned. With as much strength as I'm sure she was barely capable of mustering, my mother tried to strike me between my male oranges. However, I had already known she would do this, and I had been around many a woman who tried to do the same. Many a bilge rat think with their cocks, but they also think with their sacks as well. One knee or sharp hit to those is enough for a lesson to be taught.

I raised my leg and blocked my mother's attempt at freedom. Her eyes widened when she saw that I already knew what she was planning. "That wasn't nice, mother. If I were any less of a man, nay if I were a man-child, I would have struck you for that," I spoke.

"And you think you are any less of a man when you dare put your hands on your mother and shame her like this?" My mother asked me. I held her arms tighter.

"Would you have listened to me otherwise? I know you, mother. You're as stubborn as a whale during a harpoon hunt. You call this shame? The only shame is us living this decrepit lifestyle! I pay for your medicine and you do not get any better. Options I have tried to create, you have shut down. I desired to work as a cabin boy, you told me I was too weak to brave the seas. I desired to work in the taverns, you claimed I wasn't good enough to collect coin or serve ale. I bought a boat to learn fishing in the hopes that I could fetch a hefty coin with the merchants, you turned it into firewood!"

I listed and listed all of the transgressions that she had placed against me. "Heh, you work as a cabin boy? You're damn right you can't. The only waters you've known are our bathtubs! You work in a tavern? You can hardly fight! You want to fish and sell? What do you know of business, boy?" she asked me with fire and steel in her voice.

I suppose when I hear these things now, she might have had a point. I did not know business well growing up. I wasted money and funds on senseless adventures. Even the money I had loaned from Ellen was done without my mother knowing. She did not know that I had gone on a brief voyage to try and pay off that debt from earlier. Instead of my mother working as a wench in the Dead Tales tavern, I became one of Ellen's workers without my mother knowing.

Try as I might argue, she did have a point. I used to be a good for nothing boy with no redeeming qualities to speak of. It was only through my grit that I paid Sothshore back all of her money. Nevertheless, that argument did not hold weight anymore. Of course my mother did not know I wasn't the same boy she had seen last time, but I did. No pirate worth their ship goes back on a promise, especially not I.

"What I can and can't do will no longer concern you, mother. First change, you answer to me now. I'll manage the house and all of its affairs. I will supply the funds for your medicine my way. Anything that you want done in the house or out will go through me first. If I find that you're going behind my back and doing things you shouldn't then I'll have to discipline you," I said. Naturally, I did not tell her what sort of discipline I had in mind.

"You'll discipline me? What, like give me a spanking? I think the sun has roasted that tiny brain of yours, boy. You...," I did not let my mother finish. I took both her wrists into my left hand. I then brought her chin up with my right until she directly looked me in my eyes.

"Second change, you will also not call me boy ever again. You will either address me as Eric or Sir. Deviate from either of these and I will punish you," Fear, weakness, reluctance, none of these words were a part of my being at the moment. I said these words as if they be my will written in stone for our household. Just as I tolerated no insubordination upon my ship, I would not tolerate the same from my own mother.

"You...," My mother began, but the words died in her throat. She withered beneath my powerful gaze. She slowly succumbed to my strength, my pressure, and my will. Her frantic motions to free herself were slowly dying down. What was left was a pitiful resistance which merely delayed the inevitable.

Right now, she could do nothing but agree. I had her naked, vulnerable, and weak. What could she say or do to oppose me? She had already tried her only attempt and it failed. She could only look at me with anger and an embarrassed flush on her face. I think I be stating the obvious, but seeing this reluctance was delicious as well.

"Third change, if I ever see Dorin or Zahi in this house again...," My mother widened my eyes. Yes, she didn't think I knew about those two men who came into our home. They were not wealthy men, but they were better than us in terms of financial stability. In order to acquire food or spare money, my mother often gave them certain...pleasurable favors.

I had kept my mouth shut about it because it wasn't place to bring it up, but now that I had wrestled the authority of the house from my mother. I would allow no man in this house without valid reason!

"Am I understood?" I asked of her. She turned her face away from me, but that only served to raise the fires of my ire. This third rule, I would not allow it to be broken. Even if the pits of Tarkarthias opened those men would never set foot in my house again. If they wanted a pleasurable night then they could spend their time in the brothels or rat-infested taverns.

I grabbed my mother's face and turned her back to me. "Am. I. Understood?" I asked, making sure she heard each word expel like thunder from my mouth. I must have scared her because her arms started shivering under my might.

"Yes...Eric," she answered. That was not enough to satisfy me.

"Repeat what I just said!" I exclaimed to her. My mother was going to learn that she could remain her defiant self if she wished, but I was the law in our household. No one stood above me.

"Dorin and Zahi are never allowed in this house ever again. If they are, I...guess you'll do something about it," she said. I could tell the tone in her voice was not completely of the respect I wanted. I could feel her lingering defiance. I would stamp it down. I reached for a short throwing knife on top of her dresser. I then made her jump when I grabbed it and stabbed it into the wall mere inches from her face.

"Do you remember the first lesson you ever taught me, mother? Only start fights...that you can finish! Use that tone with me again, and I'll make you regret it," I said. She offered no retort.

I unhanded my mother. Her frail arms dropped to her side, and then she moved them to cover her private treasures. I turned around and knelt to grab her fallen towel. "Get dressed. We're going out," I ordered. I threw the ripped towel towards her. Afterwards, I sat in my hammock and watched her wrap the cloth around her body.

"I went out today. I can't go out anymore this week," she responded, a flickering piece of steel in her voice.

"I said we're going out. I know what you can and can't do. I'll be waiting at the door. You have ten minutes," I said. I found some other clothes to wear and left the room without another word.

I dressed myself in another room, and proceeded towards the front door.

There I waited.

By the tenth minute, I noticed my mother come from behind the hallway. She wore short, black leather pants. I don't remember where I stole those from, but they offered a rather tantalizing view of her legs. Her shirt was made of white fabric with at least six buttons. I had stolen that as well.

Lastly, I noticed the dagger holster. It be obvious that I don't need to say how I acquired that for her as well. If you were to ask me, I would be hard-pressed to tell you what in this house I hadn't stolen.

"Alright, I'm here." she said.

"I'm here, what?" I questioned her. Her face scrunched up, but she did not test my patience further.

"I'm here, Eric." she responded.

Satisfied for the moment, I nodded. I then grabbed her by the arm. I felt her uncertainty in the brief resistance she displayed when I opened the door. She never went out twice in one day. Her body was unable to take the strain, but what she was going to realize was that today wasn't a normal day.

"Don't worry, mother. I know what I'm doing," I told her. She was still resistant, but I pulled her outside our house. I took in a deep breath of air while I watched the sun hit her face. I noticed that the storm which had been coming down from earlier was gone. The wooden planks to our home were still soaked with water. I could see it drip to the roads below.

I figured we had burned enough of the sun's light and started walking. From the sound of the planks, my mother stayed close to me.

We entered the busy streets of the island. Men and women, poor, rich, and in-between walked the wet streets. Boots and sandals splashed in puddles of water. "Where are we going?" my mother asked me. I glanced left and then I glanced right. Everything appeared to be the same. If that were the case...

I grabbed my mother's arm and took her down the right road. On the island of Draegnar, everything is nearly a maze. A constant ascending or descending stairway that leaves most foreigners lost. The structure of the town seems to twist and wind in a way that drives even natives mad. Homes, merchant stalls, weaponsmiths, blacksmiths, and grub halls were all connected to each other.

After some time, I stopped in front of a local merchant. His stall was just as ragged as he was. His old beard looked like a washed-up crow's nest. Scars littered his face like a battlefield, and his breath stunk worse than a whale's. His merchandise was the poorest I had ever seen. Rotten fish, infested krill, and decaying shark bones, the type of stall that no one turns their nose to unless they are at their end rope. Behind him stood the door to a shop, and that was my goal.

"Still selling junk, Pete?" I asked. My mother quickly took notice of where I had led her and quickly moved to a safe distance. I didn't mind that. I would have told her to back away anyway.

A hoarse cough greeted me. "Don't call it junk, you little sea urchin. What you have here is high quality shit that even those lousy Florians would want to get their hands on. How 'bout it, Kid? I got you 20 fish for 1 silver coin! I got 50 krill for 2 silver! No higher or lower," he said.

I chuckled to myself. Perhaps, I should weave a tale of Pete for you. You see, Pete was a fisherman, and a pretty damn good one at that...or so he claims. When I was young and he was not an old pile of skin and bones, I listened to many of his tales of trying to catch legendary sea creatures ranging from the mythical Kraken to a harem of Sirens.

When I was in my former life, I wrote these stories off as mere entertainment, but my time in my first years as a Captain could not have prepared me for so much. I still don't know if he ever actually tried to catch these things, but my crew and I had done battle with a Kraken before. We barely made it out alive...even with my powers at the time.

Anyway, in my old life, there was a secret about this old man that I hadn't known until much later. I doubt anyone on this island, save for the few contacts Pete has, knows about this guy's lifestyle. When I had come to know it, he was already gone. If he was a damn good fisherman, then this helped convince me.

"No Pete, I'm not here for your scrawny fish, nor your seasoned krill. I be looking for something more...robust than these. I can't feed my mother this," I claimed. A brief glance back showed that my mother was paying deep mind to my conversation. She released a rough cough. I held no doubts that the air was getting to her. I would have to get her inside quickly.

In response to my claim, Pete blew a cloud of smoke into my face. "I like you, brat. You know this is all I sell. I don't catch Kraken tentacles or Kresant wings like I used to. I'm sorry for your mother, Lad, but I can't give what I don't got," He replied to me.

My mouth thinned. "Tell me, Pete, how much do you know about the tides? I hear when the sun shines, the tide smiles. When the sun sets, the tide frowns," I said. I grinned when I saw the nonchalant smile on Pete's face vanish in mere seconds. He turned in his old, wooden chair to face me. He stared at me for a long time. He took another deep inhale of his smoke.

"Laddie, this be the real world. I might be a jovial old man, but not everything in life can be taken as a joke. You'd do well to remember that," he hissed at me. I resisted the urge to cover my nose. His breath was enough to make my nostrils itch, and I have been bathed in a river of gunpowder and blood nearly all my life.

I knew where Pete was going with this. I knew the phrase to enter the door behind him. Only a select few individuals held the might, the grit, the gall, to enter there. "You're a tough old bastard, Pete, but even I have secrets that you don't know about. Now stand aside, unless you think you have the strength to stop me," I replied to him.

Pete looked at me for a longer while. He then took a wide inhale of tobacco from the cheap cigar he was smoking. "Fine, you brat. I'll get my answers some other time," the old fisherman said. He scratched his beard and knocked on the door five times. Once that was done, he got up from his seat and moved away.

"Mother, come here. We're going inside!" I called. With the power of the sea and waters at my side, I isolated the strong fish smell with the water that naturally flows in the air. Such an act be mere child's play for me.

"If I get sick, I'm going to punch you, bo...Eric!" My mother quickly corrected herself. I had noticed her slip up, but I decided to let it go. I ushered her inside and closed the door.

"It smells like a week old skin towel in here. Why are we here? Where are you even taking me?" she asked. All of these were truly valid questions that deserved answers...if my mother was still the one in control of our family. Still, she put up with a lot today. I could tell it was making her anxious. Not only had I wrestled authority from her by taking advantage of her frail form, but I was also now testing the limits of her mental strength by taking her outside twice in one day. Nevermind that I was also taking her to a shop that she had never been to before. I supposed she was allowed one answer.

"First off, I'm taking you off that cheap medicine we've been paying for. Someone here knows has the ingredients I need to make a better medicine for you. I aim to get them," I responded to her.

"And you didn't think to tell me this before? Since when can you craft medicine?"

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you assumed. Also, would you have believed me?"

My mother remained silent after that. While we waited, I took the time to observe the shop. On the right laid shelves of materials both common and rare. Some jars were filled with bones, leaves, or even animals. Others were filled with liquid that most would dare not touch. Meanwhile, the left housed numerous books and antiques. I had not been here in my younger days so most of this stuff was lost on me, but none of this stuff was what I was here for.

Another minute passed for me and my mother before we heard the sound of boots knocking on steps. We turned our attention to the direction of the noise. To our left was an open hallway that led into darkness, and the person who revealed herself made me smile.

"Well, I'm used to meeting bitches and bastards, but not too many little bilge rats. If that old sea cretin let you through then I suppose you were referred here. I've never seen your face before. You look like a first-timer to me. Just so you know, this isn't the place to get your cannons off," this woman replied to me.

I took a moment to take the bitch with a fiery mouth in. She was a rather fit woman. She was not quite so muscular but toned in her arms and legs. A full head of neatly combed, black hair that drops just at the end of her chin is my second view. Wrapped around her rather tight body was a long-sleeved black shirt with matching pants. This be the type of woman who knew her way around a firearm and a bar fight. In my time she was much older, but now...she was a sight for the eyes.

"I want to see the owner," I said. I did not fancy the small talk at the moment.

"I am the owner," she replied. I closed my eyes and exhaled. I don't remember this place being this damn difficult. It was grating on my nerves.

"Lie to me like that again, and you won't be working for this shop much longer," I threatened. I'm sure she didn't know exactly what I meant by that threat, but that didn't matter to me. The anticipation was worth that much.

"Oh, is that right? I'd call you a brave bastard if nothing else. No one talks to me like that and walks away, especially not a wharf rat like you!" the woman then fired back. I suppose I should count that this is the second time today that a woman has pulled a pistol on me. The defiant smirk on her face was rather interesting to look at. Nevertheless, I have a motto that all pirates should know regarding guns and weapons of powder.

"The only people fit to fire guns, are those prepared to die by them. A beautiful woman like you shouldn't end up as shark food so soon," I responded.

She placed her finger on the trigger. "Thanks for the compliment. It won't save you though," she said to me. Concern grew on my mother's face. I didn't have to turn around to tell, I just knew that it did. I could tell my mother was about to do something to try and save the both of us from this situation that I had put us in, but there was no need for her to. Someone else had taken care of it for us.

Just before the woman pulled the trigger, a hand grabbed the barrel of her gun and pointed it at the floor. "Enough, both of you! Diane, you said you would remain professional. Don't go starting trouble!" a burly man said. His face was about as hairy as his arms and his chest. Had I not seen them before in my travels, I would almost mistake him for an ogre. Anyway, he finally got Diane to lower her gun.

Yes, the woman who stood before me was named Diane Burnwood. Guardswoman to the owner of this shop. A sexy lady though she be, her personality is not one that most men would dare tread. I remembered meeting her the first time I had gained entry into this place. Needless to say, but we put a few bullets in the shop by the time I left. We were not friends, but we had an understanding. She wanted to shoot me, and I wanted to fuck her. Neither of those things came to pass.

Burnwood was good with a gun. Not the best I had ever seen, but pretty damn good regardless. It was unfortunate that she had my age by 10 years. I couldn't truly pull one over on her. I tried asking her to join my crew, but she was too smart for me at the time. A stupid bet with her left me without coin and without clothing. Ah, the trials and challenges that emerge when you be thinking with your cock rather than your head. Of course, this was before I met my...Beloved.