"So, we have finally come to the truth," said Captain Matthews of the Temperance. He might have been addressing the two chained and bridled girls where they stood against the wall of his cabin, but he was speaking quietly, barely audible above the sound of the lapping of the waves and seabirds squawking beyond the stern window. "Witches, hey? Well, I should have recognised that there was something odd about you, Lady Marian Pensford." The man shook his head, knowing the way the two young females were gagged with iron in their stretched open mouths (the iron tubes that were held in place ensured that as well as the tongue suppresser) and a thin line of drool fell from the mouth of each silenced girl. They stood, naked and manacled at wrists and ankles and attached to the bulkhead and silently stared at Matthews. They didn't even move so there was no clank of chain.

More, both girls had been plugged at cunt and arse with iron as advised and their chastity belts were locked round their slender hips and between their legs. They had screamed into their gags and struggled in their chains as the chastity belts were locked into place and no doubt having a thin rod of iron in each anus and a broader one in each cunt (the result was that poor Theresa had lost her virginity but not the way her witchery would have benefitted from) ensured they could not take a man's cock in any hole. Matthews had issued instructions that any attempt to seed these females would be a hanging offence and the crew had sullenly accepted the Captain's orders, only cheering up when told they may share three of the other slave girls for their amusement. It would be a blow to the sale value when the slaves came to be sold that there were fewer virgins among them but keeping the crew 'on board' was Matthews' priority right now.

Matthews stared at the sea and wondered what he might do next. Since the pirate and witch Henrietta Blackthorn had shapeshifted into his life and told him these two females were not sisters but mother and daughter, he had wrestled with a mass of confusing thoughts. In the distance he could hear the last of the repairs to the ship's masts and knew that the larders were full and the deer meat salted. The Temperance would soon be able to set sail, but the trouble was he didn't know where to go now. The hold currently had seventy eight boy and girl slaves he had planned to sell in the new world, but Blackthorn's news that Gordon was a witchfinder and almost certainly eager to locate the Pensford females made Matthews options limited. That he had to sail was not the question, but any of the half dozen or so ports in the Americas might have Gordon's frigate riding at anchor and waiting with cannons primed. As witchfinder, Gordon would want these two females and as a naval captain would easily find excuse to seize the Temperance. He might even hold Matthews on some treasonous charge, and as explaining the finer points of his actions to the admiralty board later wouldn't help Matthews if he had already been hung.

The prospects for the future looked grim. He could, and this thought shocked him, abandon the Pensford witches here on the island and leave them to fend for themselves for as long as they could. Gagged with iron and with no way to run in chains they wouldn't last long in the wilds, even if they could drink water at least through their iron mouth tubes. Leaving them ungagged was a risk as they might summon a curse or storm to destroy the Temperance, but there was always the option of burying them a key in the sand and allowing them to search for it as the Temperance sailed away. By the time they finally found the keys the ship could be out of their reach. At least if Gordon intercepted their arrival somewhere there would be no evidence of the Pensfords having being aboard.

But what troubled Matthews most was that he loved Marian. The fact she had shapeshifted from a thirty year old woman to an 11 year old child did not dampen his ardour. He knew he would find it difficult to leave her behind and sail away. He would be nagged by his heartfelt desires for the rest of his life. But, as the master/mistress of the Dark Queen had told him, making love to the female Marian would result in a growth of her powers. He had heard witches could destroy their mate, which was why most of them lived alone. Being hung by Gordon for some imagined crime ultimately might be no different to being torn apart by creatures summoned from hell.

More, how long could he keep the two females here as they were now? Theresa would grow normally, no doubt in time eclipsing her mother in height and development within the next four or five years, but it would be unnatural to keep them confined here for years, being fed slop, shitting and peeing into a bucket on the occasions they were let out of their chastity belts and sleeping as best they could on the straw on the floor. It was a dilemma that was tearing Matthews apart. He liked to pride himself on being a good sea captain and reasonably kind slave trader, but this was a situation beyond him. Part of him wished he had never decided Marian was a leader and merely consigned her to the slave cages as normal. If she had been hunted down by Gordon he could have given her and her child up without any distress, and the Temperance would have gone on her way with a tale to tell that they had inadvertently once transported a pair of witches. Perhaps it would have been better if Henrietta Blackthorn had not interceded; the little one would be fucked and while he might have given her power he would not be caught in two minds as he was now. He hated indecision; at sea it could mean the difference between life and death and captains always made decisions. It was in their blood.

Marian was in his heart. Leaving her chained and silenced like this would tear him apart, every time he saw her. Leaving her on an island would destroy him. Thinking of Gordon capturing and torturing her and her child... he couldn't bear to go on. He was damned if he sailed and damned if he remained at anchor. He was damned if he did what he wanted and damned if he did what others wanted. He was, in short, damned.

Matthews was alone and waiting for the end, however it came.

After a long while Matthews sighed and made a decision. He stood and picked up the pistol he kept in his desk and put it to his head. He smiled grimly at Marian at the other end of the long table, gave a small shrug as if to say this was for the best and hoped it conveyed that as far as he was concerned someone else could make the decisions in future. What the crew did with the two females would no longer matter, what witchfinder Gordon might do no longer mattered.

Matthews wouldn't care any more. He would be free, and as he closed his eyes he pulled the trigger. The blast knocked him off his feet.

--

Marian stood over Matthews and stared down at him. She was no longer in chains, no longer had the scolds bridle on. She looked concerned but a smile played over her lovely young lips. "You really should be more careful with guns," she said and chuckled. "That took some doing, Captain."

Matthews blinked up. His shoulder hurt where he had slammed against the stern timbers and he was lying among torn charts and splintered wood from his desk, though he didn't recognise it as such for a moment. The sound of gulls and the sea was loud but that was understandable as there was no glass left in the stern window. There were shouts and calls outside as confused and frightened crew members tried to get into the cabin. But they weren't getting in.

If, thought Matthews, I am in heaven then it is suspiciously like a damaged version of the Temperance. If it is hell the place is remarkably free of fires and devils with pitchforks. His shoulder hurt too as if he had been hit with a cannonball. For a second he thought Blackthorn was back with another warning shot. But there were no calls to man the guns or repel boarders. His head ached but then surely a ball to the brain would do that. Gingerly he put his hand up to feel where the hole was. There was none.

"You need to get up," said Marian. She was, he noted, free of manacles and bridle but still wore the chastity belt. He glanced to one side and saw the girl Theresa standing looking concerned nearby, and she like her mother was free of all iron apart from her chastity belt. "You can't lie there feeling sorry for yourself," said Marian. "I'd help you up but I am sure Henrietta would say it would give me extra powers to touch." She actually laughed at that as she said it.

"By all that's holy," said Matthews thickly. "I shot myself."

"No," sighed Marian. "Your aim was poor. Or at least, I managed to knock you over and make your aim poor. The ball is probably lodged in the timbers overhead, unless I blew it out with half the cabin."

"You knocked me over?" Matthews stared incredulously at the girl. "How?"

"I do still have some powers, even in iron," said Marian. "Witches aren't that easy to deny, or did you think you had the upper hand, sir?"

"Apparently, Lady, I do not," said the Captain. He clambered to his feet, feeling the pain in his shoulder. "I have no idea how you stopped me doing what I wanted, but I suppose I should be grateful. Even if you have not saved me from damnation."

"Suicide is a sin, and not even a witch like me can tolerate that," said Marian. "All I did was summon up a small storm and direct it. It was, I regret, all I could do to prevent you being stupid and sacrificing your soul. Some things are to precious to lose, and even transcend love. Now, you better assure your crew you are safe and well before they damage your ship more by breaking down the door."

"And how, pray, do I explain this?" Matthews stared at the shattered end of the cabin from where he stood among shredded charts and smashed pieces of wood.

"Gunpowder gives as good an explanation as any. I am sure you had a small barrel stored under your desk. A stray flame, like a fallen candle..." The light in Marian's eyes danced. "But we won't be here to hear your explanation." She held her hand out for Theresa, who took it. "We must go, even with our chastity belts on. I am sure Henrietta - a fine old witch she is, I must admit - will explain why one day."

"How can you leave?" Matthews felt a pain in his chest, and it wasn't from the blast of energy that Marian had created. He was, he knew, about to lose the thing that was most precious to him.

"Because this gives most hope, and most life. You will tell the crew, and Gordon when he comes as he surely will, that the blast took us with it. We no longer exist. We were blown away with it. You were questioning us when the blast occurred. Oh, we had our chastity belts on so, alas, we must have drowned if we survived the explosion."

"And Gordon will believe that?" Matthews frowned.

"Of course not. He is a witchfinder and knows how these things are. No, he will know we flew away and damn near took your ship to hell as we escaped. He will have seen this before though he will never speak of it. Just don't tell him about Henrietta and the Dark Queen. After all, a witch must go somewhere safe." Marian's eyes took on a look of sadness. "Sail safely and steer wisely, good Captain," she said and then she and Theresa stepped forward to the shattered edge of the stern and either fell or jumped but they disappeared from view. When Matthews dashed forward to look down, there was no splash, no ripple. Only the wind sighing and the gulls squawking and the sound of sailors not knowing what the hell was going on.

--

Epilogue

It took Jim Matthews, once captain of the Temperance and now a private merchant fleet owner, twelve years to find the Blackthorn ship. But he finally saw the Dark Queen riding at anchor at a harbour in the Indies and he knew at once that despite all the repairs and the new canvas it was the ship he had sought for so long.

It seemed too that the Dark Queen was expecting him, because Henrietta - not Henry - stood on the forecastle and watched the Lady Marian sloop arrive. She watched him make his way to her ship and she smiled as he approached in his fine breeches and tailor made coat. He bowed gracefully and raised his feathered hat as he did so. "You made it, sir," she said to him as she returned the greeting with a curtsy. "Despite everything."

Matthews nodded. He stood before Henrietta Blackthorn, who was just as attractive as all those years before if a little older, a little more mature, and wondered if he could play all the conversations he had nursed in his head all those years. But now he was unsure what to say. "I came as fast as I could," he finally said.

Henrietta smiled. "And you had to wait for a fair wind."

The man nodded again. "A good anchorage too," he said, which sounded stupid he thought, but was the best he could do.

"You look like a man who made good profit from selling slaves," said Henrietta. "I would imagine the shipment you took to the new world all those years ago turned a healthy profit. I could imagine that somehow the market had suddenly wanted as many slave children as they could get and pay whatever price was asked. Funny how markets work, how supply and demand can coincide so well."

"You created that demand," said Matthews. "At least, I suspected as much. To finally get to port and find I was the only trader for weeks and they would pay anything... It was the start of many years of profitable trading and my fleet continues to grow. I have not looked back." He paused. "I suppose I should thank you."

Henrietta shrugged. "Thanks are not needed for good things. You saw an opportunity and sailed wisely and steered safely."

Matthews' eyes flew open. Those words..." He began and stopped. He had never forgotten.

"Are the words of well wishing. Nothing more." Henrietta sighed. "You had to do what you did, and you did it well. Tell me, did you encounter Gordon on your travels?"

"Twice. The first time he interrogated me, though thankfully as two men of the sea and not with iron and fire in a dungeon, and was satisfied with my tale. Or he at least gave that impression and sailed away to let me be. Latterly I met him in London but he was changed man. I believe from gossip, and one should not listen too much to that, that the man found chasing witches to be profitless. They kept escaping, the tittle-tattle said, and wars called him to other duties. Indeed, rumour had it he had sought a mysterious ship like this but could never get close."

Henrietta smiled. "Nature and the sea work together in strange ways, even more strange than market places."

Matthews took a deep breath. "I did love Marian," he said. "I miss her still."

The woman stood before him shook her head. "She could not stay, as you know. Sometimes one must give something up so another may live, however painful it was to do that on both sides. Sacrifices are not sacrifices unless they hurt or are missed. But you did what I requested and clad her and her child's hips in a chastity device. She was plugged well at rear and front with iron. You broke the little one's childhood with it, and removed the barrier to her power which, combined with her mother, gave them the ability to change events. You see, those chastity belts gave her the ability to redirect her power. She could use her new found power to save you as best she could. Marian Pensford had to let you make your own way. Gordon would have found you and hung you, the Temperance would have been seized as a prize to be sold or broken up. What Marian did was to preserve life, yours especially."

"I see. Well, I am going to continue to look for her."

Henrietta shook her head again, more sadly. "Alas, you will not find Marian Pensford. She is not in this dimension, not to be found in this realm. You see, she had to make a sacrifice, in spite of her feelings for you and to save her daughter, too. I cannot tell you what she did as the acts of witches are secret to themselves, but she had to leave."

Matthews felt a surge of despair. "She said the Dark Queen would be safe. I had hoped she would find you and make a place here with you."

"A witch of Marian's strength and mine together? Oh goodness, what a boiling sea that would make! No, she could not be here. I could not have allowed that and nor would she ask me."

Matthews felt tears form in his eyes. His search then was over. Marian was gone and he would never be happy again. With a heavy heart he turned to go.

"You have not yet asked about Theresa." Henrietta spoke as he started to move away, and then watched the man turn back.

"But... You said she was gone."

"No, I said her mother was gone. I have news for you, if you wish to hear it." Matthews stared and nodded, hope suddenly flaring in his heart. The woman continued: "Theresa was preserved--"

"So she is alive still? A young woman like her mother?" Matthews took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair. "You must tell me where she is, I beg you!"

"Captain, I said she was preserved. For twelve years I have kept the young girl Theresa in chains, with the iron on her hips and the metal gag in her mouth. She has been with me, locked in a cage of iron. Her bonds and my spellcrafting, mean she remains a small girl. She has not aged, and nor will she while locked in iron. I have kept her, as Marian wished, for you. She knew you would seek her, and she left herself in her daughter for you to find."

"In chains? She is young... as she was?" Matthews' mind reeled.

"Young as she was. Eight years old, and I am sure she would be glad to be free of my cage at long last."

"Then, this Theresa... I may take her with me?"

"You may, but I would add one thing: she is yours to do with as you see fit. My task here is done. Free her of the iron and you will watch her grow and use her as you see fit. She will become a woman, for being free of her chains she will grow and age as we all must. But if she has her mother's talent she will shapeshift into a child for you, and that may give you untold delights in the years to come. Whether she will do this or can is beyond me to foresee. But, here is a warning for you, good sir: seed her and her witch power grows. What she becomes and how she influences your life then I cannot say. It is not an easy choice to make."

Jim Matthews stood on the deck of the dark Queen for a few minutes and then smiled. "I have made a decision, Henrietta. I will take the child from you and free her from iron and allow her to grow and be what she wants to become. It will be a pleasure putting myself into her," he added. "I like to think her mother would approve of my shooting into her daughter."

The End