A tale of Lily MacRuarie

[holly_evolving]

You can’t really know the loyalty of your men until you lose everything you have. Then you can count who is left to you.

I lost a fleet when I lost my man. He put me and my goods aboard the Sea Dragon one night and sailed off with half my crew. Once I was ashore, my men dispersed. But still, I had my ship. And I had learned my lesson.

There is no place for two lovers aboard a ship. One must remain ashore and live another way.

This is why men say women are bad luck aboard ship. Because they can’t stop thinking with their dicks, and no matter what any man says, his dick and his heart are tied tight together. That’s why men love good whores.

I docked with a skeleton crew in Sibenik, and let them free to wander for a while. Sooner or later I knew I’d see them all again, and they knew it too. Only time would tell if that would keep them honest.

My first task, after I found myself lodging, was to get very, very drunk.

Fortunately for me and the tavern, a woman armed to the teeth and swearing softly under her breath is enough to keep lustful men at bay.

A few weeks later, I sobered up. The men I’d hired to guard my ship were being paid well, and so served me well. Plus, I sent them whores. Dick to heart, heart to mind. When a man doesn’t have to waste energy seeking his satisfaction, he will give that energy to more lucrative tasks. Like keeping me happy.

It was time to do more than make repairs on my ship. It was time she was reborn.

Now, I’m about as religious as a garden toad. But that does not make me deaf to the myths of faith, nor blind to the effect they have on people. I wanted to give the ship the power of my anger at my betrayal, to make her a fearsome she-devil. So I gave her the name of the demon the Jews feared, the one who would stand equal to Adam. I named her the Lilith.