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It was a stroke of luck that she'd been the one to capture the girl. Any other ship, any other captain, and she'd have been handed over to the crew, or sold to a Lysene slaver, or, if she was lucky, killed outright. But Asha had the wit to see that the girl was of gentle birth, and therefore would be worth a great deal to someone – but not if she was sent back raped and mutilated.
The girl's hands were bound, and Hairy Hermun was stroking her face, caressing her in a mockery of affection while the others stood by and laughed, waiting their turn. Someone among the raiding party had torn the front of her gown and her breasts were half-bared. Asha knew that it would only be a matter of time before the girl was spread-eagled on the deck unless she intervened. "Hands off," she ordered her men.
Most, hearing the iron in her voice, had the good sense to step away. But Hermun was still cooing crude endearments to his captive, who looked too scared to scream. Asha decided to intervene more directly. She strode up to him and grabbed him by the shoulder. "I said, let her be."
Hermun was new to her crew, and he laughed. "What kind of captain denies his men a bit of fun after a raid?"
"This kind." Her knife was pressed against his gut before the smile had faded from his face. "The girl is mine," she said, prodding him for emphasis, drawing blood. "And none of you are to touch her."
"Taking a salt wife, captain?" called one of the braver men. The notion amused her.
"Maybe I am." Without another word, she took her prize by the arm and steered her into her cabin, barring the door. The girl was shaking, eyes wide. "What's your name?" Asha asked as she loosened her bonds.
"Alayne S-stone," she said, trying to pull her ruined gown together. Asha guessed she was lying – this maid was no bastard, not if she was any judge. Some lordling's daughter, if Asha was lucky.
"Don't be afraid," she said, "I'll keep you safe." She stroked the girl's brown hair back from her face. Alayne, or whatever her name was, only stared back at her, still frightened but beginning to breathe more easily. Asha sighed. "You can share my bunk – no one will harm you." She'd keep the girl safe, but not if it meant sleeping on the deck.
Alayne rubbed her sore wrists. "What is a salt wife?" she asked timidly.
Asha's lips curved into a smile. "A woman taken in a raid, and kept for pleasure."
"And I'm yours now?" The girl seemed puzzled but not horrified at the thought.
Asha shrugged. "Like I said, I'll keep you safe. I'd be best pleased if I can find out who wants you back badly enough to pay."
Alayne's face fell. "I… I don't know if anyone does. They're all dead, you see." She said it flatly, as if any emotion she felt about the matter had long since been crushed.
Asha still thought she might be lying. "Get some rest," she told her prisoner. Obediently, Alayne crept into bed and curled under the blanket. "I'll be back soon."
"Please," Alayne said quietly, "don't leave me alone." Asha hesitated before joining her. She ought be contemptuous of the girl's weakness, but somehow she wasn't. Nor was she surprised when Alayne's hand snaked around her waist, pulling her close, or when the girl's breasts pressed against her back, so soft. Asha turned to face her, and found Alayne's eyes fearless and her mouth yielding.
Asha suckled her tender, pink nipples, parted the girl's pale thighs to do a finger-dance of her own. In the half-light, she could see that the fine hair on her mound was closer to red than brown. Alayne gasped when Asha slid into her, and cried out softly when the captain's thumb first grazed her clit. Asha wasn't gentle with her, but nor was she cruel. She stroked lightly at first, then more steadily, until Alayne's legs quivered and her back curved off the bed like a bow being strung. "Now," Asha told her once she'd calmed, "you do the same for me." And Alayne did, letting her hands be guided where Asha needed them. She wasn't skillful, but she followed instructions well.
Alayne seemed unaccountably happy afterwards. "What are you smiling about?" asked Asha, ever suspicious.
"Now I know you'll protect me," the girl said. "I'm your salt wife." And she fell asleep, leaving Asha to ponder the ways in which a calculated display of submission was also a kind of strength.