HMS Belvidera - 38. Chapter 38

July, 1796

Granger returned to Belvidera and strode directly to the quarterdeck. “I have dispatched the older brig with the Italians to return to Malta and beyond,” he announced.

“That should make the governor happy, sir,” Roberts said. His eyes flashed over to Carlos. He wanted desperately to ask who he was, but that would be wholly inappropriate. Granger indulged him anyway.

“This is Carlos. He seems to have adopted me.” The boy just smiled shyly. He really was cute. Granger studied his features, and they seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. “He needs a bath if he’s to join the ship. I think I will take this opportunity to have one as well. Please rig the wash deck pump.”

“Aye aye sir,” Roberts said. Granger went below to his cabin and introduced Carlos to Winkler. He half-expected Winkler to hate the boy, but he seemed to like him from the start. While Winkler was helping him get ready for his bath, Granger went in to check on Robey.

Robey was sleeping when Granger came in. Granger opted not to wake him, but instead just studied his features as he slept. He really was handsome; it was easy to see why Travers was attracted to him in the first place. More importantly, though, he appeared to have some color in his face. He’d looked so wan and pale last time Granger had checked on him. He snuck back out of the cabin, put on his bathrobe, and went up on deck just as Carlos shed his and began to spin under the jet of water. He squealed as the cold water blasted his body, but Granger ignored that and looked at the boy without trying to look at him.

He had almost no hair on his body at all, and seemed to have no muscle tone either. He dropped the soap and bent over to pick it up, exposing his completely hairless ass to Granger. What would make a man like Carlos be so devoid of any trace of masculinity? Then he turned around and Granger forced himself not to gasp out loud. Where his testicles should have been there was nothing. The young man had been castrated. Granger felt the rage fly through his body, rage at these Ottoman barbarians who would take away these things that made a man a man. He tried not to look as Carlos took his bath, focusing instead on the reaction of the men at the hose. They looked at Carlos sadly, with almost a cringe, probably wondering what it was like to have no balls, and feeling good because they still had theirs. When Carlos was done, Winkler wrapped a robe around him and hustled him down to Granger’s cabin.

Granger took his own bath, trying not to think about Carlos, or anyone else who might arouse him. Instead, he relished the cold water and the feeling that came from being clean, from washing the grime off his body. When he was done, he went back down and got dressed. There was something about Carlos that haunted him, a familiarity that he could not quite place.

“The lad’s settled in right well,” Winkler said. “I put him in one of the corners outside your door sir. I assumed that he could help me attend to you, as heaven knows that requires more resources than I have.”

“You feel you are overworked?” Granger asked, letting a sinister look creep across his face.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but simply following you around would wear a man out,” Winkler said, being cheeky.

“You may retain your assistant, Winkler,” Granger said.

“What they did to him was terrible, sir,” Winkler said, unable to restrain himself.

“I agree. It does much to assuage any bad feelings I may have had for killing so many of them,” Granger observed. “I’m going to rely on you to see that he’s kept safe on board.” A man like Carlos would undoubtedly appeal to some of the men.

“Aye aye sir,” Winkler said. Granger went back on deck to check on their progress, to make sure Roberts had them on a fair course for Gibraltar, and to check on Robey’s status. He summoned Dr. Jackson to the quarterdeck for an update.

“He’s doing very well, sir,” Jackson said. “He seems to be recovering.”

“Do you think it was that potion the old woman gave him?”

Jackson frowned. “I can’t be sure, sir, but that’s the most likely explanation.”

“That irritates you?” Granger probed.

“Yes sir, because I wanted to find her, to find out more about what it was, but she was on the ship that went off toward Italy.”

“It would have been a good addition to your medical arsenal,” Granger agreed, understanding Jackson’s annoyance. He wasn’t mad because the old woman had potentially saved Robey where he’d failed; he was irritated because the secret to her potion had escaped him. “Even without it, you are the best doctor I have ever run across.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jackson said, beaming with pleasure. “I think about my life in London, before I had to leave, and I find that I am much happier here.”

“And I am most gratified to hear that,” Granger said. “I think I will go below and try to get some rest.” He headed below and allowed Winkler to undress him before he collapsed in his cot. He surrendered himself to the oblivion of sleep.

Something both pleasant and annoying was pulling him back to reality, interrupting his desperately needed slumber. Granger hovered in that semi-somnolent state, analyzing it, until he came to the realization that someone was sucking his dick, and doing a damn good job at it. He woke up abruptly and he looked down, his eyes meeting Carlos’ as the lad bobbed his mouth up and down on Granger’s cock, taking the whole thing as if it were child’s play.

“What are you doing?” Granger asked.

Carlos stopped what he was doing and looked up. “Pleasuring you,” he said, as if it were completely normal to sneak in and start blowing a King’s officer.

“You do not have to do that,” Granger said. His conscience told him to stop Carlos, but his body told him not to.

“I want to,” he said, and resumed his work. In a few short minutes, he was rewarded with Granger’s very large load. Granger lay there, panting, as the lad got up to leave.

“Stay,” Granger said, pulling Carlos to him. “As I said, you did not have to do that.”

“And as I said, I wanted to,” he replied.

“You cannot feel physical gratification, uh, from sex?” Granger asked nervously.

“You mean since those bastards cut off my balls?” he asked bitterly. Granger nodded. “If they would have done it before I went through puberty, I would not have any sexual urges at all. Many of the other eunuchs have that luxury. But the Mohammedans waited, and so I have urges, albeit not very strong ones.”

“So you cannot, uh, ejaculate?” Granger didn’t know why he found this whole topic so intriguing, but he was curious to know.

“I can reach an orgasm with certain types of stimulation, but it is a long process, and it does not look like the one you just had. When I come, nothing, or very little, comes out.”

“But it feels good?” Granger asked.

“I don’t know. I guess.”

“How must you be stimulated?”

Carlos sighed and burrowed his head into Granger’s chest. “When they fucked me, sometimes I would reach orgasm, or at least what I think was an orgasm.”

“I’m sorry, Carlos. On this ship, you will not have to do anything sexually you do not want to do.” He just nodded, and then fatigue overwhelmed both of them, and they drifted off to sleep.

Granger awoke later, his subconscious mind alerting him to a change in the motion of the ship. Her movement told him the sea was a bit rougher, although still relatively calm, and the noises around his cabin told him that the wind had finally picked up. He detached himself from Carlos and escaped from his cabin without waking the lad. Winkler must be asleep as well, but he’d left Granger’s uniform out for him. In no time at all, Granger was fully dressed and climbing up to the quarterdeck. When he arrived, he found the wind to be a mere brisk breeze, but it was from the east, so it would serve them well.

“Good evening, sir,” Clifton said politely. “The ships in the convoy are all showing their lanterns, and everything appears to be in order.”

“That is excellent news, Mr. Clifton,” Granger said. He heard the bell ring four times. He’d been asleep for five hours, a luxury almost unheard of for the Captain of HMS Belvidera. “Carry on.” Granger strode over to the rail and looked out at the lanterns that marked the other ships, and then began to walk up and down his quarterdeck. He pondered that walking a quarterdeck on a moonless night like this, with nice weather and a light breeze, had to be one of the most pleasurable experiences possible. He looked up at the sky, where the stars were so bright it seemed he could almost reach up and touch them. Calvert, in the West Indies, would see these stars. Granger wondered how he was, and what he was doing. He hadn’t had any news from Calvert for some time now. He thought about Travers, probably still in the Levant with Aurore. He’d see these stars too, as would Caroline and Cavendish in London. They were all linked by the heavens.

“You should have awakened me so I could help you, sir,” said an accented voice: Carlos.

“Contrary to what Winkler may say, I am quite capable of taking care of myself,” Granger responded with a smile. There was something about this lad that put him in a good mood. “Walk with me.”

“Aye aye sir,” Carlos said, causing Granger to pause and wonder at how quickly he picked up jargon. He’d been aboard for barely any time, and he seemed to know the language and how to use it correctly.

“Tell me about your life in Spain, before you were captured,” Granger ordered.

Carlos swallowed hard and looked very nervous. “It is not very interesting, sir.” He was avoiding something, keeping something hidden, and that just made Granger more curious.

“I think you promised to do whatever I said, did you not?” Granger asked.

“Yes sir,” Carlos replied.

“Then you will tell me everything you remember of your life before you were taken from Spain.”

Carlos stared at Granger, his horrified expression reflected in the dim light from the stars, then looked down at the deck and said nothing until they had walked up and down two lengths of the quarterdeck. “I was told to tell no one of my past.”

“Who told you that?” Granger asked.

“My governor,” Carlos replied. His governor? Granger wondered at that. Peasants did not have governors, only wealthy children, aristocrats had governors.

“And why did your governor tell you that?”

“He said if the Mohammedans knew who I was, they’d torture me, and extract a fabulous ransom from my family,” Carlos said. He spoke as if he was in a fog, as if he was just now remembering. “He told me they’d take the money, and kill me anyway.”

“Was he captured with you?” Granger asked.

“He was killed when they attacked us. We were at my family’s estate along the coast, and had taken a trip to enjoy the cooler weather next to the sea. My brother and I went along, as well as our governor and ten men from our household. When we got close to the shore, we were ambushed. They must have seen our entourage coming. The governor ordered half the men to flee, taking my brother, while the others held them off. I was to go with them, but I was not able to escape. As he was the older one, his safety was most important.”

“So they left you?” Granger asked.

“They had no choice,” Carlos said bitterly. “What could we do against a huge party of barbarians? I will never forget the look on my brother’s face as they dragged him off. We were only three years apart, and had grown up together. That was ten years ago, but I remember his expression as if it were yesterday.”

“Who is your brother, your family?” Granger asked.

“My brother’s name is Luis, and my father is the Duke of Medinaceli.” Granger stopped mid-stride and stared at Carlos, his mouth agape.

“You are a son of the Duke of Medinaceli?” Granger asked unnecessarily. Carlos nodded. “And Luis is your brother?” Carlos nodded again. And then it all made sense to Granger. No wonder Carlos had seemed familiar. No wonder his scent, his body, had attracted Granger. He studied Carlos and almost slapped himself for not seeing it earlier. The resemblance was truly striking between Luis and Carlos. “I met your brother.”

“You met my brother?” Carlos asked, amazed.

“His ship was captured by pirates, and we intervened,” Granger said. “He spent a good amount of time on board this ship, and we ultimately escorted him on to Cadiz.”

“So you saved him, just as you saved me,” Carlos observed, more to himself than anyone.

“That explains why your brother was sailing in that brig. He must have been looking for you,” Granger speculated. The explanation that Cardona had given him for sailing to Cadiz was inadequate, but now it made complete sense.

“I wonder why he waited so long.” Carlos asked, the bitterness in his voice palpable.

“I suspect you will have to ask him that when you see him,” Granger said. “You must make your way to Madrid as soon as we reach Gibraltar.”

“I do not want to go back there,” he said defiantly. “Not as I am, not without…” He evidently couldn’t bring himself to say the word testicles.

“You are a part of the family, a very powerful and exalted family. You may not be able to have children, but you can do your part to advance yourself and your relatives,” Granger said. This was as ingrained into Granger’s psyche as it should be in Carlos’. A man was part of his family, and was obligated to advance the interests of his family as a whole.

“And what can I do?” he asked. “I have lived most of my life as a slave, much of it with an Arab dick in my ass.”

“You are smart and talented. There are many ways you can serve your King,” Granger said. “Are not priests supposed to be celibate anyway?”

“I’m not sure I see myself as a priest,” Carlos said dubiously.

“You will be able to figure it out. But you must go home,” Granger said adamantly.

“Why?”

“It is where you belong,” Granger said sagely. “Do you have a title, a form of address?”

“I am the Duke de Lerma,” he said, nodding.

Granger stopped pacing and raised his voice, talking to Clifton on the other side of the deck. “Pass the word for Winkler.”

The word was passed, and Winkler arrived shortly, looking a bit disheveled at having been surprised, sleeping. “Sir?” he asked, barely keeping the drowsiness out of his voice.

“This is the Duke de Lerma. He is the Duke de Cardona’s brother,” Granger said. Winkler’s mouth dropped in surprise, as did Clifton’s and the rest of the officers on deck, all of whom were blatantly eavesdropping. “You will prepare a cabin for him in my quarters. We must see about finding him some more suitable clothing.”

“Aye aye sir,” Winkler said, and dashed below to do his bidding.

“That is not necessary,” Lerma said. “I am comfortable where I am.”

“Your Excellency,” Granger said, bowing slightly in his courtly manner, “Please allow me to show you the hospitality due someone of your rank.”

Lerma stood there, stunned, seemingly confused as to what to do, but Granger had a plan, and that was to treat Lerma as he should be treated, and thus remind him of his proper place, his proper role. In the end, Lerma nodded. “Thank you, Captain.”

“It is my pleasure, Your Excellency,” Granger said. “When we return to Gibraltar, we will consult with the Governor about the best way to return you to your family.”

“It would please me if you would call me Carlos, and I can call you George,” he said, smiling at Granger. “I have no friends, no one to rely on, and you have shown me more kindness than anyone.”

“As you wish, Carlos,” Granger said, smiling.

They paced for a while, until Carlos spoke up again. “I am nervous about what good I will be in Spain.”

“If I were your King, I would be thrilled to have someone of your talents in my service. I have never met someone like you who was so adept at learning languages. I myself have only been able to master two, French and English.”

“You do not speak Spanish?” he asked.

“No. I have picked up a few words, here and there, but I do not speak it. I should probably learn it, since I hold the order of Carlos III.”

“How did you come to receive that?” Carlos asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I intervened when a French frigate was about to capture a Spanish frigate carrying gold and silver from the Americas. We drove her off and returned the treasure to the King,” Granger said, simplifying the story considerably.

Carlos smiled. “The King likes his treasure. I can see why he rewarded you.” They both laughed at that. “I think you should learn Spanish. I will teach you.”

Granger smiled at him. “I would be most appreciative, but I fear you will find me a dense student compared to you.”

Winkler appeared, interrupting their walk. “Sir, Your Excellency, the Duke’s quarters are ready. I have the sailmaker and his mates working on some more suitable clothes.”

“Thank you Winkler,” Carlos said. “I am quite comfortable in these relaxed garments.” He and Granger bowed to each other, and then Carlos followed Winkler below.

Clifton approached him. “Begging your pardon sir, but you seem to have a knack for saving wayward aristocrats.”

Granger laughed at that. “Some are worth the effort, Mr. Clifton. How is life as a lieutenant?”

“Quite good, sir,” Clifton said, smiling.

“I do believe you’re the only man who’s gone from Midshipman, to Able Seaman, and then to Lieutenant, in less than a year,” Granger joked.

“I owe it all to you, sir,” Clifton said, the hero-worship obvious in his eyes as he spoke to Granger.

“I suspect you will find it has more to do with you transforming from a boy into a man,” Granger said. “Regardless, I am proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Clifton said, positively beaming.

“I think I will go below and check on the Duke. I will leave you to your watch. Call me if I am needed.”

“Aye aye sir,” Clifton chirped.

Granger checked in on Winkler and the Duke, and then retired to his own cabin to grab some more precious sleep. It was not to be. He was awakened when Carlos climbed into bed with him.

“It is alright that I am here?” he asked.

“It is very alright,” Granger said. He felt his cock growing, even as his conscience told it to go down. He’d grown attached to Cardona. How wrong was it to sleep with the man’s brother? Carlos’ mouth on his dick pushed all those arguments to the side.

Carlos stopped and slid up on top of Granger, lining Granger’s cock up to his ass. “I want you to make love to me,” he said. Granger felt his dick penetrate Carlos ring and plunge into his ass. The young man worked him, sliding up and down on him. He seemed to be enjoying himself, but it was so different than Granger had experienced with other men. It was almost more like sex with Caroline.

Granger pushed him off and rolled Carlos over onto his side, then moved up behind him and re-entered him. He moved in and out slowly, more for his own benefit, to keep himself from cumming too soon. Then he ran his fingers gently up and down Carlos body, exploring him, using soft touches like those that he’d use if he were with Caroline. Carlos responded, writhing with him. He took Granger’s hand and led it to his body parts, telling Granger the Spanish words for them. Granger tried to last, tried to make it enjoyable for Carlos, but it was to no avail. “I have to cum,” he said urgently.

“Inside me. Cum inside me,” Carlos said breathlessly. Granger obliged him, shooting his load deep into Carlos’ bowels. He let himself go, enjoying spasm after spasm, until finally he was spent. Slowly he withdrew, letting his dick leave this cavern that had given him so much pleasure.

“I wanted to bring you off too,” Granger said sadly.

“You cannot. It takes more than most men can do, and I’ve only experienced what I think is an orgasm when I’ve been fucked by more than one man.” Granger could feel him cringe as he said it. Then he got an idea.

“There are other ways to stimulate you,” Granger said, as he slid first one, then two fingers into Carlos’ ass. He felt his own seed lubricating his efforts as he gently worked Carlos’ prostate, gauging the lad’s reactions to see what he liked best. Even then, it took almost another hour before he felt Carlos’ body start to respond to him.

“Oh yes, oh yes,” Carlos cried softly. Granger kept up his pace, kept up the stimulation, while using his other hand to caress Carlos’ nipples. He moved his hands down to Carlos small dick, which was hard now, and felt the Spaniard stiffen as he spasmed with the surge of his orgasm. He thrust his body back into Granger’s fingers, begging him for more and getting it, while he enjoyed wave after wave of ecstasy. As long as it had taken Carlos to get there, it seemed that his orgasm lasted proportionately as long, until finally he was done. He sighed contentedly and relaxed his body back into Granger’s while Granger gently removed his fingers from Carlos’ ass. He flicked his finger across the tip of Carlos dick and felt a small drop of liquid, the only physical evidence of his orgasm.

“That was incredible,” Carlos said. “That was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”

“Really?” Granger asked.

“Sí,” Carlos said, smiling at him. They drifted off to sleep, entwined together.

Belvidera and her convoy found themselves blessed by the fair winds, such that two days later, Belvidera shepherded her little convoy into Gibraltar and safely anchored them under the protection of the Rock.

“Please call away my gig,” Granger said to Roberts. He went below to change into his best uniform, and to check on Robey before he went ashore. “And how are you, Mr. Robey?”

The lieutenant looked up at him and smiled wanly. “I am getting better, sir, but I fear I’m not yet ready to return to duty.”

Granger smiled back at him. “I am just glad you are still with us. It was looking bleak for a while there.”

“I understand I owe my recovery to some strange old Italian lady and a vile-tasting potion, sir.”

“That would seem to be the case,” Granger said. “I am to meet with the Governor. We will see about moving you to the hospital ashore.”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but please let me stay here. If I’m taking up too much room, you can move me elsewhere,” Robey pleaded. Granger looked at him and saw the desperation in his eyes. “Ashore I’ll be alone; here I am surrounded by people I know.”

“I will consider your request,” Granger said. “For the time being, you will stay put.”

“Thank you, sir,” Robey said. Granger nodded, and then headed up on deck. He found his gig waiting for him. He descended into his boat, admiring the smart way the gig’s crew was turned out in their blue and yellow tunics. Jeffers made sure the gig was maintained to perfection, lest the ship’s reputation be sullied by some hidden defect. They rowed him to the dock, where a carriage was waiting to take him to see the Governor. Granger smiled, thinking that it was a much nicer reception than he’d gotten when he first arrived.

He arrived at the Governor’s House and was ushered in to see the Governor immediately. Harleton was there too, his eyes twinkling slightly, just enough to stimulate Granger’s libido. He fought those urges back, helped by the constant workout Carlos had given him these past few days.

“You left with one ship and return with a flotilla,” the Governor observed. “What have you been up to?”

“We were attacked by a flotilla of xebecs and, in retaliation, we attacked the port of Oran, Your Excellency, where we made off with five prizes. We also extracted a cache of gold, which we estimate at 6,500 guineas, and the Bey’s prized ruby, a gift for His Majesty,” Granger said. They stared at him, dumbfounded, until the Governor got his wits about him and made Granger recount his tale.

“You have all but conquered a whole city with a frigate,” the Governor pronounced. “I hope your naval superiors appreciate your achievement. We certainly do.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency,” Granger said, and felt himself blushing.

“You may sail your brig over to Algeciras and repatriate your Spaniards, with my compliments.”

“Yes sir,” Granger said. “I also rescued a Spanish nobleman, who is, coincidentally, the brother of the Duke de Cardona.”

“You certainly do have a knack for saving fellow aristocrats,” the Governor joked, with words remarkably similar to Clifton’s. “You may land him in Algeciras as well.”

“Begging your pardon, Your Excellency, but His Excellency the Duke de Lerma, as he is known, has requested that he be allowed to stay here temporarily.” Granger’s his mind worked feverishly to devise a plan to allow Carlos to stay a bit longer, as Carlos himself had requested. “He wants to re-enter Spain with the proper ceremony, the proper protocol, and not be simply landed with the other refugees.”

The Governor scowled at him. “Very well, Granger. You may arrange it as you see fit. I’ll leave this latest troublesome Spaniard in your hands.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency,” Granger said. He returned to the Belvidera, proud of his ship and their achievements, but with a hollow feeling. He analyzed his emotions and decided that was due to the denouement, the after-effects of days of excitement. Now, safely ensconced in Gibraltar, with the action ended, he felt strangely dejected.