Poetfrog

 

 

 Poet Fog shrouded the port of Hamburg in an eerie atmosphere. The sun had not yet awakened from its slumber and so torches had to provide sparse lighting.
The black carriage was pulled by four strong dark horses. Each of them was as tall as a man and weighed as much as a dozen. Two men sat on the carriage seat. One held a whip and reins, the other his hat on his head.
They hurried past dive bars and whorehouses, in front of whose doors lay the human remains of a night of drinking. Department stores and general stores were also on their way. Many a busy trader was just opening his office in the candlelight.
On the other side of the street, merchant ships, sloops and barges lay moored at the quay. Men and boys in shabby rags carried barrels and boxes onto the ships or unloaded them. It was hard work, but everyone was happy to at least get this.
The carriage finally stopped in front of a merchant ship named Goldgreed. The Goldgreed had three masts rising into the darkness. The captain of the ship stood on the bridge and looked down at the car. He recognized the coat of arms on the carriage door and immediately rushed off board.
With a swinging movement, the man with the hat jumped from the carriage seat. The captain and the older man chatted briefly, then he went to the side door of the car and opened it.
“Miss Katharina, we are here,” he said with a friendly smile behind his graying beard came into its own.
A young woman, who had not long ago outgrown her childhood, climbed out of the narrow cabin. She had long dark blonde hair, which was covered by a small hood. On the bench opposite her sat a woman who was already past 40, with a stern look and dark hair. When the girl had left the carriage, she also stood up.
"Were you able to sleep well during the journey?"
"No, uncle," said the young one Woman with slightly sleepy blue eyes.
“The road was also very bumpy. These Hamburg citizens have money for houses, but they let their streets go to waste," grumbled the dark-haired woman. “Every pothole almost blew out my discs.” She looked around and then realized: “It’s still the middle of the night. The coachman really could have been more considerate of us.”
"I'll remind him of this on the way back," the man sighed. He wore dark, loose-fitting velvet robes. He wore a richly decorated sword on his belt, which was tucked into an equally decorated scabbard. Meanwhile, the coachman was busy unloading heavy chests from the roof of the coach. A few sailors came from the ship and helped him.
“That would be very kind of you, Duke,” said the woman, although these words did not improve her mood.
“This is not an easy day for any of us, Countess. Nevertheless, we want to take it on with joy. Finally, today my ward will go on the big trip to meet her future husband. I'm sure you're happy too, my dearest countess. After all, you have taken good care of the upbringing of our beauty here over the past few years.” He placed an arm on the girl’s shoulder, who looked up at the ship in amazement. She had never seen such a massive ship. The barges on the Elbe or the coastal ships in Greifswald and Stettin were much smaller. Above all, they did not have a double row of gun ports, which impressively indicated the ship's defensive capabilities.
“Katharina, this is your husband's ship. It will take you to Southampton. Sir Thomas is waiting for you there.”
The young woman’s sigh was clearly audible.
“But, but,” warned the Countess. “That sigh is not befitting of a lady.”
“My future husband could at least make the effort to pick me up. After all, you two are bringing me here to Hamburg too."
"Your future husband has sent his own ship to bring you to England," objected the Countess.< a i=8>“Not to England, my dear,” explained the Duke. “The ship only goes via Southampton. Sir Thomas gets on there. Then the journey continues across the Atlantic.”“Oh God, why is that?” asked the dark-haired countess, holding her hand to her mouth.Katharina didn't listen. She already knew that her future lay in the new world. She was sold as a child to the son of a wealthy citizen. Since she was the illegitimate child of a nobleman who also had a lot of debt, this had been the easiest way to take care of her. Her mother, a commoner, had died in childbirth and her father had placed her in the care of the Duke of Mecklenburg. He had asked his cousin, the widowed Countess von Holzen, to look after the child.In the meantime she had been recognized and ennobled. But their noble papers only served to increase their value. As a member of the noble griffin family, she was a sought-after match for the nouveau riche citizens who bought their way into the nobility.




She had actually been promised to her future husband at the age of 14, but at the duke's insistence, on her 18th birthday she was on her way to a man she had never seen before. The Countess had repeatedly emphasized how good it was to have a wealthy husband and that one had to overlook the flaw of his bourgeois blood.
Katharina had never seen this as a flaw. Her mother was a commoner herself. What bothered her more was that her father, who had only seen her three times in her life, had sold her to a stranger for money. So she distracted herself from that by paying particular attention to the ship. She watched the sailors at work. Saw ropes being knotted, crates and barrels being stowed away, and their personal belongings disappearing into the hull.
“Old Lakewingtons must have had some very successful ventures in the colonies. His son, Sir Thomas, inherited it and now wants to live there."
"Oh, did Lakewington die?"
"I don't think so, it's just that a kind of dowry so that his son learns to stand on his own two feet."
"But he's already 25."
"Not every man is in Already a man at this age," laughed the Duke.
"My late husband, the Count, knew how to stand his ground even at 16. "That's when you realize your true noble blood," the woman interjected and then placed her hand on Katharina's shoulder. “Child, are you dreaming again? We have to move on. You should go on board."
The Duke took a box from the carriage box and handed it to the captain of the ship.
"Take good care of it, Captain Shiffort, these are the noble papers for your master."
"I will guard them like the apple of my eye, Duke," said the noblely dressed captain with a slight bow. “I have had a room prepared for the young lady. Your things are already being brought to the cabin."
"Would you please take us there?" Duke Gustav took a small lacquered box from a compartment on the carriage and then followed along with his ward Katharina, the captain on the ship. The Countess briefly considered following the two of them, but when she saw young Katharina dancing across the rocking boat, she abandoned the idea.

The cabin was three by two meters in size and in the stern of the ship. The bed was attached to the outside wall of the ship and, along with her luggage, took up a lot of the space.
“Not as nice as your room in the castle, child. “But it’s only for the trip,” Gustav said encouragingly. They were now alone in the room and there was barely enough space to turn around.
"It'll be okay." Katharina smiled bravely.
“Remember, you are Katharina von Greifen. The blood of an ancient family flows in your veins. And this Thomas should guard you like a treasure. Eventually, your descendants will also carry this blood in their veins. You don't bring any land or property into the marriage. But you still bring something with you that he, his family, really wants."
"Keep talking like that, uncle, and I feel like a serf." When they were alone, she always called him uncle , even if their blood relationship dates back centuries. The duke grimaced slightly and then reached for the wooden box that he had taken with him on the ship and handed it to the girl.
"But I wouldn't leave it to a serf," he said a certain seriousness.
“What is that?”
The Duke opened the box. It was lined with dark fabric. Inside were two decorative flintlock pistols as well as a powder bottle, a ramrod, a pair of bullet pliers, small square pieces of fabric and a dozen lead balls.
“I bought the pistols for my son. Now I'm giving it to you."
"But..." she started to object, but he interrupted her.
"Nothing but. My son is dead and you are the only child I ever felt like a daughter. You are embarking on a difficult journey."
"You will have other children."
"Perhaps, but by the time they are that big, someone will definitely have them invented a new weapon again. Plus, where you're traveling isn't safe. In the New World there are wild natives who want to do who knows what to a pretty young woman like you. In addition, there are few men there. And if your husband isn't there, you can use them to protect yourself against this kind of intrusiveness."
He spoke clear words and Katharina understood them. She also suspected that his concern was part of the reason why he had taken the girl hunting with him so often in recent years. After all, it was very unusual for girls and women to go deer hunting armed with a musket. He had also financed a fencing instructor for her, who taught the inquisitive young woman how to use the rapier in an exciting way.
She bowed her head slightly and took the box with a grateful expression.
"Thank you, Uncle," she said.
The Duke nodded, then took something else out from under his robe. It was a leather bag. He handed it to the girl, who immediately opened it. This contained a considerable number of coins. It was a valuable mixture of gold and silver coins.
“This is not your trousseau, but your uncle’s gift. Keep it safe, Katharina. Even if you become the wife of a rich man, it's not wrong to have a little gold, especially if you're a stranger in the world you're marrying into."
" You are embarrassing me uncle. You have cared for me for so long, and now you give me gifts so richly and with more care than anyone else."
"You were always the daughter I was never allowed to have. Now you're going out into a world in which I can no longer protect you," said the Duke, brushing his chin with his hand.
"I will always carry you in my heart, uncle," , the girl vowed. Then she was overcome by a feeling that was stronger than all her learned decency. She stormed towards him and wrapped both arms around him. He let her have her way and, without any shame, put his arms around her when he heard her sobs. He comforted her and comforted himself, because he too was suffering from the pain of parting. The girl had been his daughter, his friend, his light of life for so many otherwise dark years. Now he had to let her go. Not just into the arms of a stranger to whom she was sold like a piece of cattle years ago. Not just into marriage with another man. No, he has to let them move to the New World. A place that was more dangerous than the old Europe, torn by war and intrigue, could ever be.
He looked down at her, brushed a strand of hair from her face and kissed her lovingly Forehead. "And you will always be the light of my life," he breathed to her.

The ship sailed out into a veiled world. After just a few blinks of her eyes, Katharina could only see black outlines of the carriage and her uncle. The only sound was the beating of the oars of two dozen strong men using the Goldgreed's dinghies to pull the ship away from the shore.
She paced restlessly back and forth on the deck. Even the rowing boats were barely visible. Dark shadows a ghost world. Only the thick ropes that connected her to the merchant ship showed her presence.
"You should go below deck, miss." the boatswain said to her. In contrast to the sailors, he was well dressed, and carried a dagger and a whip prominently on his belt. "A ship's deck is no place for a woman."
"Then just don't pay attention to me," Katharina replied. The smell of rotten teeth and garlic reached her nose.
“It will be difficult for men not to pay attention to a woman like you.” There was something grim and dangerous about the man's look itself. A cold shiver ran down her spine.
“Are there any problems, Mister Murdoc?” came the captain’s voice. He suddenly appeared next to them like a ghost.
“No, sir,” the boatswain shook his head contemptuously. “I just wanted to point out to Miss that it is dangerous for a woman on deck.”
“It was fine,” agreed Captain Shiffort.
“As long as the ship is towed, there is certainly no danger to me, right? Please, I would like to enjoy the fresh sea air a little longer." Katharina looked longingly at Shiffort with her deep blue eyes.
"Certainly, Miss. I think if you stay on the bridge you won't be in any danger. Or, Mister Murdoc?"
"No, sir."
"Okay, then follow me. I'll take you to the bridge."

Captain Shiffort spent a lot of time in the following days flattering the pretty Katharina and explaining to her how the ship works. Although he repeatedly emphasized that this was probably not something that would interest a woman, she still brought it back to him again and again.
In this way, the girl found distraction and thus pushed aside her fears related to the trip, the wedding, and her new life. She couldn't believe that soon they would actually be marrying a complete stranger. A man whose face she only knew from a porte where he was 17. It was hung in her room when she was 10. Luckily, her uncle had it removed after the envoy's departure.




Chapter 1

Southampton 1679 A.D.


Southampton harbor lay in bright sunlight while dark clouds raced across the horizon. Katharina wore a dark red dress that was decorated with numerous lace decorations. She was standing on the bridge with the wind blowing in her face. She enjoyed the rush of the stormy spray. It feels good. It felt alive.
The crew of the Goldgreed was busy unloading the cargo they had picked up in Hamburg. Barrels and crates were carried out of the ship's hull and carried away at the same time by countless dock workers. Men were shouting wildly, so that Katharina could hardly follow the coarse dialect.
The young woman's eyes were restless along the quay wall. Was her fiancé already waiting for her? Her eyes strained to search through the tangle of people, which resembled a disturbed anthill. She kept finding someone who might be the one. But none of the men got on the ship.
As the sun was already setting in the west, she had almost given up hope. Captain Shiffort assured her that he would probably come soon. In any case, the ship would remain here in port for a few more days. Maybe that's why her fiancé wanted to spend another day in London.

One day turned into five. The ship was unloaded and most of the crew had holed up in the taverns of the English port city. Katharina had also visited the city twice, accompanied by Captain Shiffort. The man had the rough nature of a sea dog, but also the manners of a nobleman.
She learned that Shiffort had been the second son of a poor rural nobleman whose only hope for prosperity was service in the Marine was. However, since his father was unable to buy him an officer's sponsorship in the Royal Navy, he could only start out with his modest means in Sir Lakewington's merchant marine. So he served old Lakewington for more than twenty years.
“And now I bring his son's wife to her wedding. "It's a great honor," he finally said when they were back on board the ship. He bowed slightly and gave her a gallant kiss on the hand.
“The honor is all mine,” she replied.
Strange, I seem to have a special charm for older men, she thought. When she got back to her cabin and took off her dress. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulder as she ran the comb through it. She was never used to having a maid, and this circumstance was now an advantage. Sir Thomas would probably get her one in her new home, but she got along just fine without it. The Duke had always placed great value on her independence, and the last days on board the Goldgreed proved him right.
Katharina missed her uncle. Although Shiffort was the same age as him, the intimacy that had existed between them was missing. Did Shiffort also see her as a kind of daughter? She didn't know. In any case, he lacked the greedy, lustful look with which the members of the crew often stared at her. They were primitive, instinct-driven looks that only the common people possessed.
Dressing only in her petticoat, she let herself fall into bed. The slight rocking of the ship didn't bother them any further. Her hands felt for the pistol case. She unlocked the lock with a click. She took one of the carefully crafted weapons out of the case and examined it closely.
It was one of the modern flintlock pistols. She cocked the hammer and pointed the gun at the door. If one of the guys came to violate her, she would give him a proper welcome. She pulled the trigger and the flint whizzed against the steel. Sparks struck. And... nothing happened.
The girl smiled slightly. She reached for the ramrod, which was mounted parallel to the barrel. She gently inserted it in and out of the iron barrel several times to make sure it was clean. Then she took the powder bottle and filled it with black powder. She had done this process many times before. Until now, however, it had always been with muskets that could only be loaded while standing.
She took the ramrod and pressed together the gunpowder. The fact that she was loading a deadly weapon made her heart beat faster. Her blonde hair fell over her face as her fingers pulled out a ball and wrapped it in a piece of cloth. She used this bullet patch to drive the bullet into the barrel. The ramrod slid in and out several times.
Finally, some primer, fine black powder, was sprinkled onto the ignition pan. Katharina closed the metal flap on the battery. The pistol was now ready to fire. She carefully put the gun back in the case and loaded the next one. When she was finished, she closed it again and lay on her back in her bed. She licked her fingers briefly and then extinguished the candle. The slight rocking of the ship's hull had a calming effect and gently rocked her to sleep.

Loud stomping on the deck woke her up. She heard voices and Katharina von Greifen jumped out of her bed. She reached for a simple brown-green dress and slipped it on. She opened her cabin and walked through a narrow hallway to the main deck. It was still dark and all sense of time was lost. She saw Captain Shiffort and another man hidden by him.
“What’s going on?” asked Katharina without introducing herself. She was used to being paid attention to, and the Countess's upscale upbringing was quickly forgotten at this time of day.
The captain turned around and she could now also see the other man catch. He was pale and of average beauty. His face was marked by a few pimples. Despite his young age, his red hair was beginning to appear quite thin. The captain was the first to find his voice and spoke: “Sir Thomas. This is Miss Katharina. Your fiancée."
"Ah, the German potato sack my father bought for me. Are your royal papers on board?" Her mouth opened at this indifferent insult.
"Yes, Sir Thomas." The captain looked at her a little confused as she struggled to keep her composure.The sailor, polished by sun and wind, refrained from answering. He grabbed the box and continued on his way."Watch out, you damned son of a bitch," he cursed and wriggled out of his rescuer's grip and looked at him furiously. “You impudent fellow. I'll soon be a noble. Attacking me means attacking the state. Go away.”With these words, Thomas Lakewington turned around and started to leave her again. A sailor dragged a heavy box aboard by the torchlight. Clumsy as he was, the drunken man collided with the strong man and almost fell into the water. The sailor dropped the box and prevented the ship owner's son from taking an unwanted bath.
“Well, hello,” said Sir Thomas indifferently to her. Katharina was enveloped in a torrent of alcoholic fog. Disgusted by his greeting, she turned her head away from him. “Bring my things to the cabin. I'll come on board tomorrow. I have to taste a decent English whore and the wine of a tavern once before my father sends me into exile. Take care of my wife, as long as we are not married, she is as valuable as her noble papers."



“Yes, get away before I leave you hanging,” cried Sir Thomas. Then he turned around and got off the ship. Katharina also disappeared below deck without another word. On the way to her cabin the sailor met her. In the narrow hallway she had to press her body against his to get past him. Inside she was seething with anger. What a monster Sir Thomas was. Then she felt pressure on her breasts. Was the man groping her? Without thinking, she slapped him hard. At the same moment she realized that he had stopped and that she had squeezed past him. He had his arms raised, so he couldn't have groped her. But the thought came too late.
“Are you feeling better now? Or do you want to hit me again, Miss?" the man said calmly.
"Excuse me," she suddenly said in a very small voice.
"Sometimes You just have to hit someone, miss. And I can handle a lot," smiled the man, who was probably around 30 and had shaggy dark hair.
"Yes," she simply replied. “Thank you.”
With these words she stole past him and disappeared into her cabin. She sank into her pillows with tears in her eyes. That night a world seemed to collapse on her. Hours passed in which she tearfully emptied her misfortune into the pillows. She quietly prayed for a miracle. She prayed that it was all just a bad dream. This could not have been Sir Thomas Lakewington. It couldn't have been him.

The next morning, however, brought no relief for her. She was woken up early by loud noises. The ship was loaded and prepared to sail. In addition to goods for the colonies, the Goldgreed's cargo consisted of people. Convicts sent to the New World as slaves.
The girl watched as the human cargo, children, men and women, chained together in pairs, was brought below deck at the front of the ship. Straw had been temporarily laid out there. The people were loaded like cattle and herded together.
Her gaze wandered up to the bridge. There she discovered Thomas Lakewington. He looked even more sickly and repulsive in the daylight than in the light of the night torches. He held on to the wooden railing and didn't look at her. Still, he was probably looking for something. Their eyes met briefly and she didn't look away for an instant. Did he have a guilty conscience because of his sacrilegious behavior from yesterday? People who drank too much alcohol were often unpleasant. Katharina tried to shake off the thought of his words. He had called her a German potato sack. How could he? She knew she was undoubtedly a beauty. She certainly didn't have the arrogance to call herself the most beautiful woman on God's earth, but a sack of potatoes?

The boatswain and the ship's doctor inspected the human cargo together. They paid particular attention to the female passengers to ensure that everything was in order. The boatman greedily groped the bodies of the condemned whores, thieves, impostors and street girls.
There was a real shortage of women in the New World, and resourceful businessmen took advantage of this fact. They teamed up with judges who gave them favorable and profitable verdicts. Sometimes they themselves ensured that a sufficient number of women, ideally young women, came before the judge who did not have the social support to defend themselves.
The state paid the entrepreneurs for the deportation of the condemned. At the same time, these same businessmen could then sell these slaves in the New World to the highest bidder. Many a plantation owner had already bought a wife or a few mistresses in this way. Often both.
The boatswain examined the breasts of a young redhead. He also exposed her quite voluptuous but beautifully shaped breasts, which had previously been sleeping under the brown linen robe. In front of the assembled team, and also Thomas Lakewington, he stroked these young fruits of desire like a lover.
The redhead's slender fist hit him right on the nose and he staggered for a moment back, and cried out loudly. Laughter spread among the sailors, and Katharina also felt a certain satisfaction.
The boatswain composed himself and reached for his whip, while two sailors held the stubborn young woman tightly. He reached out and was about to strike when the captain called out, “That’s enough, Mister Murdoc. I think we've seen enough for today. Stow the cargo quickly in the ship, we want to take advantage of the tide because the wind is favorable."
“Ay Sir,” muttered the boatswain angrily. He wiped his nose, which was dripping some blood, with the back of his hand. With his whip raised, he walked past the rebellious slave and whispered quietly, still holding the leather whip at head level: “Remember it, witch. I will make sure you feel them on our journey. I will beat the tender flesh from your tits."
Katharina recognized the panic that could be seen in the young woman's eyes, even if she heard nothing of Murdoc's words. The slave, along with numerous others, was quickly brought below deck. The display of naked femininity was over and the sailors quickly went back to their work.
Suddenly a woman in an expensive dress entered the ship. Katharina immediately recognized the latest French fashion from the Sun King's court. This dress and its wearer's jewelry were undoubtedly worth a fortune. A wig with long white hair completed the lavish finery that seemed so out of place on the merchant ship. Thomas immediately rushed down from the bridge to her. Katharina had also become curious and came a little closer.
“Hello, lover,” said the woman in Thomas’s direction and offered him her hand for a kiss. He reached for it and pulled her slightly against him.
"You're late, Anne," he scolded the woman, after his lips had touched the back of her hand for a long time.
“You wait for the best,” she smiled sensually. “I was held up in London. Can you have my things brought on board."
"Of course," he turned around and called up to the bridge. “Captain Shiffort, please have Miss Dartmoor’s pastries delivered to my cabin. She will accompany me on this journey."
"Certainly, Sir Thomas," said the captain without any visible enthusiasm.
Katharina had followed the whole scenario as if in a trance . She immediately understood that Miss Dartmoor was her future husband's mistress, but she could not understand this blatant and open humiliation. Sheer anger rose within her. She wanted to rush into her cabin, which was right next to her fiancé's, and shoot him and that person with her uncle's guns. In my mind's eye this plan went over several times. Was it fate that she had loaded the guns the night before?
“This is my future wife. “The German,” it suddenly sounded in her ears. Thomas' words brought her out of her dreams. “Don’t you want to introduce yourself?”
Katharina looked at her counterpart in disbelief. The woman might have been Thomas's age. She was undoubtedly pretty. Her tightly laced corset showed off her plump breasts in an exciting way. The girl even thought she saw a nipple sticking out.
“Forgive me, dear. "She's not that bright in her head," young Lakewington explained to his mistress. “This is Miss Katharina von Greifen - Old German nobility, the last of her bloodline. All of our descendants are automatically ennobled through their noble papers.”
“Practical. "It's not absolutely necessary that she has something in her head for this task," the woman scoffed and stretched out her hand to Katherina. Her fingers touched her cheek and she winced. But said nothing. “I hope she will bear you sons soon. That thing looks a little skinny. Have you already made her your wife?"
"No, my father said we should get married in Virginia. I'm not in a hurry. There is still enough time on the plantation to let them have children in peace. I hope she is at least fertile.”
“It will definitely be very nice. The colony is definitely hungry for such an event.” She took her hand away again and the girl breathed a sigh of relief. “What does a maid actually look like for me? You promised me one if I accompanied you."
"I will give you one of the slave girls. Some of them have had real training.”
“Very nice. Now show me our quarters." She smiled seductively and shortly afterwards disappeared below deck with Sir Thomas.

Tears formed in Katharina's blue eyes. Her long blonde hair was disheveled. She lay in her cabin, curled up against her pillows. Through the thin ship's wall she could clearly hear her fiancé's moans.
“Yes, my horny stallion. Take me. "Give it to me," whispered Miss Dartmoor, cheering him on. Her moans were also clearly audible. She cheered Thomas on again and again. His tortured, lust-driven panting could be clearly heard again and again. He panted like a male dog in the presence of a female dog in heat. And that's exactly what he was.
Katharina had to listen to everything. She experienced every dirty detail of the wild, uninhibited lovemaking, even if she only saw it in her mind's eye. She had never witnessed lovemaking before and only knew about it from books she had secretly read in her uncle's library. She knew the drawings it contained and could put the scenes together in her head.
Still, there was nothing erotic about it for her. Just a few meters away, her future husband rammed his manhood into a stranger's body. A woman he had probably known very intimately for a long time.
She kept thinking about grabbing the pistols, going into the cabin and shooting both of them, or at least her rival. But she lacked the courage to do so. Humiliated, dishonored and mocked, she lay here on a ship that had left the last port of the Old World hours ago and was now on its way to a new world.
The moans grew louder. She heard the sound of wood hitting each other. Something squeaked rhythmically.
“Yes, yes. Come on, come on, you horny goat," it echoed in her room. “Yes, come on, come on. Yes."
Then she heard her fiancé's loud scream followed by a high, strained scream from a woman. Moments later, silence returned.
"Oh Anne, you horny bitch, why didn't my father choose you as my bride," she heard Thomas' voice a little later.
“Read them, you also want sons to make your father happy. She should fulfill your breeding mission. And then she can rot on your plantation while you have fun and your father can die in peace." Katherina's fingernails dug into the bedclothes. She was no longer just thinking about pointing the guns at the strange woman. She considered turning it on herself. Or should she just jump off the ship? Surrender yourself to divine grace like Jonah. Catherine did not believe in the grace of God. She had been raised as a Protestant Lutheran, but like many educated people of her time, she also knew the teachings of the humanists who came and went from the Duke. There was no salvation for her, no hope, only the throbbing pain in her young soul. All that could now be heard was the gentle lapping of the waves against the ship's outer hull. This steady, gentle sound slowly lulled Katharina to sleep.

From that day on, Katharina was on board like a ghost. People didn't avoid them, but they didn't pay attention to them either. No one wanted to incur the wrath of Sir Lakewington's son. Even the boatswain no longer gave her his lecherous looks. However, this could also be because the old sailor had now found a different satisfaction.
She noticed again and again how he went into the forecastle and disappeared below deck for a good while. Sometimes she heard quiet moans, screams or whimpers. At one point she followed him below deck. The conditions were deplorable. Men and women were chained to the ship's wall or between beams. The stench of urine and feces was worse than the dingy streets of Southampton. The bodies of the condemned people vegetated, powerless.
Here, too, no one paid any attention to her. She stepped over the bodies of the living, almost dead creatures. She had shied away from it for the first few days. Was afraid of the dark, afraid of strangers. But the more the injury to her own soul began to scar, the braver the young woman became.
In the twilight she glimpsed Murdoc. He had his pants down. A skinny thing knelt before him. Her blonde, curly hair was only vaguely visible. The boatswain's hand rested on her head, which was moving frantically back and forth. Both disgusted and fascinated by what was in front of her, the young noblewoman couldn't take her eyes off it. She should go. Should leave this dark place, it flashed through her mind. But she stayed. She hears the moans. Heard the smacking sound when the sailor's masculinity moved inside the young slave.
Katharina realized that the young woman was probably completely passive in allowing everything to happen. She just knelt there, her hands hanging limply from her shoulders, her head guided only by the man's brute force. She saw the saliva dripping from the girl's mouth onto the dark wooden floor.
She had heard of this type of lovemaking, even if it had little to do with love. It was called French. Of course she didn't know why it was called that. The Countess had said that customs were more relaxed in France. Maybe that was the case.
Suddenly Murdoc groaned. It sounded wild, rough and primitive. But Katharina recognized the same sounds that she had often heard from Thomas in the last few nights when he made love to his lover not far from her. He grabbed the poor girl's hair tightly, and she endured his treatment in silence.
He began to tremble and twitch. Then she heard the coughing and wheezing. He let go of the slave, who immediately collapsed to the ground, coughing and choking. She watched as a sticky slime came out of her mouth. Was this the male ejaculate she had heard about?
“Did little Miss like it?” said the boatswain into the darkness where Katharina had thought she was hidden. She jumped in shock. “If Miss wants, I can please her like that while her fiancé takes other women.”
His laughter penetrated her mind like a whiplash. Painfully burning. She turned and scurried away through the darkness.
“If you see Jane, tell her we still have a score to settle. The ship is small. She can't get stuck here. "Your ass belongs to me," he shouted after the fugitive as he climbed over the exile who was lying on the ground and still coughing.
Jane was the red-haired young woman who had bloodied Murdoc's nose. She was truly a beauty. Thomas had hired her as a maid for his mistress. When she wasn't doing every little job for Anne, she sat huddled outside the cabin. At first Katharina thought she was doing it to please Anne. Now she knew why. The young woman didn't want to run into the boatswain's arms. Below deck she was helpless at his mercy. Nobody who could tell him anything went down there. The thought of being at the mercy of Murdoc sent shivers through her body.

The Goldgreed was pushed forward by strong winds and was making good progress. Katharina looked up at the bulging sails. As she spent a lot of time on deck, she began to understand something about it. She knew that this steady wind from astern was the best thing for this ship. Most of the sailors enjoyed the quieter hours on deck. They were mending ropes, roughing the deck or just standing around somewhere, ostensibly doing business.
To her amazement she also saw Anne Dartmoor on deck. The woman who should be the target of all her hatred. But could she really hate? Or was it her fiancé that she was supposed to hate? She decided to despise both of them and went to her cabin without exchanging a word with them.
As she disappeared into the back of the ship below deck, she already heard Thomas' voice: “Stop hush, bitch. I got you out of the stifling hole, and I can put you back in too. So be good.”
The door to his cabin was ajar, and she risked a look through it. She saw Thomas. He had pulled his pants down to his knees and forced himself between Jane's legs. His bare bottom stares back at her. Jane lay beneath him. Her exposed bare thighs were spread wide outwards. His hands wrestled with hers and he pushed her to the ground with superior strength and weight. Her plain dress was pulled over her waist. Her long red hair lay wild and disorderly on the sheets.
Time and again she rebelled against her master. Maybe she could even have freed herself. But she knew that the law was on his side. The law had deprived her of almost every right, and as long as he didn't kill her, nothing could be done to him. So Jane surrendered to her fate under Katharina's eyes.
His thrusts came quickly and soon there were moans which, she now knew, would mean the end of the act soon. Katharina didn't want to look at it any longer and turned away from her despicable fiancé and his victim. She almost ran into Anne Dartmoor's arms. The slightly older woman pushed her aside like a troublesome child without saying a word and hurried to the cabin. Then the loud, powerful moan that marked the male climax was heard.
“You dare,” shouted Anne, who had thrown the door open. “Are you banging a damn street whore here when I'm just out for a breath of fresh air?”
Katharina saw Thomas, who was now standing in front of them with his pants down.
“ But, dear.”
“Nothing there. I gave up the comfort of England for you, and you just climb on the first thing that comes your way. Why don't you go straight to your German bride and mate with her like your father wants?"
"But, ..." She had always thought that Thomas Lakewington was a powerful man. But in that moment she realized how small her fiancé could be, and this didn't just refer to the flabby manhood that dangled between his thighs. With slightly blushing cheeks, she averted her gaze and disappeared into her cabin. However, she secretly liked the idea of ​​the two of them arguing. Maybe he would disown her. After all, she was just a mistress, right?
A loud clap ended her thought process. She looked down the hallway and saw Anne dragging the redhead to her feet. One hand was buried in the long hair, pulling painfully. Jane screamed as she was dragged out of the cabin.
“Shut up, you damn whore.” Anne gave her another resounding slap in the face. The clap whipped through the narrow hallway like a shot. Thomas watched idly as his lover abused the young woman.
She lashed out again, but this time Jane fought back. Anne had loosened her grip on her hair and was able to wriggle free. When the mistress tried to slap her again, the clever young woman intercepted the blow and gave the attacker a strong shove to the chest. She stumbled back awkwardly and fell into Thomas's arms. However, he caught her just as clumsily. Instead of her body, he only got hold of her wig. Anne fell to the ground, while the false hair on her head remained in his hand.
Everyone looked at her in surprise, as she now had to present her thinning hair in a most unflattering way. Jane, who was almost the most surprised by the success of her courageous defense, stood there not far from Kathrina with her mouth wide open. Captain Shiffort, who was alarmed by the mistress's screaming, also looked astonished.
"You'll pay for this," snapped Miss Dartmoor, standing up. She snatched the wig out of Thomas's hand and put it on her head, a little awkwardly. Katharina couldn't suppress her glee.
“Captain Shiffort. This slave attacked me. I want her to be punished severely for this."
"I'll have her put in chains again and taken to the others, Miss Dartmoor." He took a step towards the redhead and grabbed her on the arm.
“No,” hissed Anne Darkmoor. Her eyes had narrowed into dangerous daggers. “I want her whipped. In front of the assembled crew."
Jane and Katharina froze.

The instructions on how to whip the slave came from Anne herself. She had an obvious sadistic interest in punishing her supposed rival. The young woman was brought to the middle of the upper deck. There, Mister Murdoc first tore her dress over her shoulders and then let it slide to the floor.
At first Jane covered her private parts, but soon her wrists were tied with ropes. The condemned man's arms were pulled apart as the other ends of the ropes were tied into the rigging. Her beautifully shaped breasts were particularly visible thanks to the taut shackles that went up at the sides. You could clearly see the pain and humiliation on the woman's face, who was not only about to be whipped, but above all humiliated.
At Sir Thomas's command, who was now following his mistress like a puppy , the captain had the whole team line up. Katharina also had to stand next to her future husband. Disgusted but also with a certain fascination, she watched as ropes were tied around the flawless beauty's ankles and then pulled apart as well. Now she stood there naked in the wind, completely helpless and at the mercy of her, resembling a curved X, just like Saint Andrew once did before his martyrdom. She had never liked the story, and she thought it was good that her uncle also rejected the Catholic Church's veneration of saints.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. Gentle and yet cool, like a breath of death.
“Look closely,” Anne whispered in her ear. "That's what happens to everyone who opposes me."
"She didn't want it, Sir Thomas forced her to do it."
"I know," whispered the woman's voice in her ear. “That’s why this is his punishment. Look closely. This is the last time you will see this body so intact. Soon it will just be trash, food for the fish.”
The mistress's hand stroked the hem of her dress before letting go. An icy shiver ran through her young body. She wanted to say something back, wanted to scream her evil in her face. But she was only too aware of her weak position. She was always just a tolerated person.
As the illegitimate daughter of a nobleman and a commoner, she was only accepted. She could have been denied this right at any time. She had a title but no land. She had a father, but only her uncle had ever protected her. Now she didn't even have that protection anymore. She was the promised, sold bride of a strange man who was under the influence of this witch. Here on the ship there were no social conventions to offer her protection.
Anne Dartmoor slipped past her to rejoin Sir Thomas' side. She didn't show him any of her otherwise erotic advances, instead she demanded submission from the man, who now seemed like an immature boy. Not obvious ones, no, but Katharina felt the power she had over him.
Drum beats sounded and she was startled out of her thoughts. The young woman writhed helplessly in her bonds, expecting the inevitable as Murdoc stalked around her with the bullwhip, his bestial smile gliding over her body. He kept looking up, meeting the eyes of the captain and Miss Dartmoors. He knew who was in charge. The boatswain tightened the whip and let it flick through the air once.
The crack echoed across the deck. The sailors had gathered and were staring at the redhead as she squirmed. The condemned were also brought on deck. Miserable figures who, however, showed Jane no pity. She wasn't one of them. She hadn't had to spend the first few weeks of the voyage with them, below deck, where starvation and illness had already claimed several lives. Rather, sheer glee or perhaps even lust could be seen in her eyes. Yes, they would like it if this young woman had to pay for her beauty.
“Jane Sinner attacked the extremely kind and friendly Miss Dartmoor today,” said the captain. “For this she should be punished with 20 lashes.”
“Forty,” Anne said loudly to the crowd. “20 for the cowardly attack on me and 20 for Sir Thomas.”
A murmur went through the crowd. 20 lashes represented a painful punishment, especially since it could be assumed that Murdoc was not restrained, 40 lashes could be fatal even for a strong man.
The mistress looked sternly at Sir Thomas , and young Lakewington nodded.
“Forty,” he said shortly.
"So, for her misdeeds, Jane Sinner is sentenced to 40 lashes," cried the captain after a moment's hesitation. “Execute the sentence, Mister Murdoc.”
The rough boatswain ran his fingers through his shaggy beard again. Jane squirmed restlessly in her bonds. Her red hair fell over her shoulders. Katharina tensely held her hand over her mouth. The fascination and horror of the situation were close together. He indicated the blow several times, then raised the whip and brought it down on the English beauty's pale skin.
Jane cried out as the leather wrapped around her body, forming a reddened streak spread across her skin. Murdoc gave her enough time to feel the pain before he struck again. The scream from Jane's mouth echoed across the deck again. Fascinated, the gaze of those present rested on the young body, which shortly afterwards was hit a third time by the tight leather of the whip.
After the first dozen blows, her pale skin was covered with red welts, which around her back to her firm breasts, which were still provocative. The boatswain took a short rest and drank from a jug of rum that had been provided for him. He walked lustfully around his victim, looking at the work he had already done. The murmur of the people coupled with the woman's soft whimpers. Her head had fallen forward. Her red hair obscured her face from view.
When Murdoc had finished his round, he raised the whip again. He aimed precisely. Targeting parts of her skin that his whip hadn't yet reached. The leather hit her shapely bottom, slid around her waist and finally even hit her pubic area, which was covered by a small reddish down. The next blow hit her from the other side with the same end goal. Jane twisted her body as best she could to support her most sensitive areas as the leather forced its way mercilessly.
The restraints prevented the woman from escaping from the merciless, brutal lashes. Katharina was shocked to see how the crowd on deck was now even cheering on the boatswain. She lusted for blood, and soon the man's blows satisfied that desire. The slave's skin gave way after repeated hits, and blood mixed with her fear shit.
A smile formed on Anne's lips and she placed her hand on Sir Thomas's crotch, unnoticed by the crowd. The experienced lover could sense that the whipping of the slave, whom he had had under his control just moments ago, excited him. She stroked him and he enjoyed her arts while his eyes followed the spectacle below.
Jane's screams had reduced to soundless whimpers. She no longer had the strength to fight the pain. Blood ran down her tortured body, between her thighs blood and sweat combined with the milky remains of Sir Thomas that oozed from her recently brutally opened crotch.

When Jane finally became motionless As she hung in her bonds, the boatswain let go of her and called up to the bridge deck: “That was 32. But she lost consciousness.”
“Then wake her up. “She should enjoy her punishment,” Anne called down. Katharina's gaze turned to her. Only then did she notice Anne's hand wrapped around her fiancé's exposed member. There he was again. The hate that had been simmering inside her for two weeks. She hated Anne, she hated Thomas, and she hated herself for her inaction. Then the mistress looked at her and smiled. She realized that this witch, this demon, was probably intentionally holding the man's sex so that she was the only one who could see it. A little further humiliation that stabbed itself like a dagger into her chest.

Murdoc took a bucket of seawater and poured it over the young woman's torn, welted skin. Jane screamed loudly as her spirits were so brutally awakened again. A murmur of satisfaction went through the crowd. He took another bucket of water, grabbed her hair painfully, and pulled her head back.
A torrent of water poured into her face. She choked and coughed violently. The salt water stung her eyes and her open wounds. The coughing fit made the pain worse as she writhed like an Al in her bonds.
Satisfied, the boatswain picked up his whip again. The pain of the previous blows was now mixed with the new. The salt water was whipped under her torn skin, causing her additional pain.
Jane now screamed wildly again. Her wet, bleeding, naked body writhed under the remaining blows of her tormentor, who took an infinitely long time. The crowd of men and some women excitedly demanded that we continue. They almost seemed disappointed when the 40 was reached and the boatswain paused. Yes, the crowd had tasted blood. Jane's blood dripping onto the floor. She wanted more, but the captain intervened.
“That’s enough. "She's been punished, now she's going below deck to join the others," he shouted.

Thomas and Anne used the signal to leave and immediately disappeared into their cabin. Katharina could hear her whispering to him: “You were a good man, now you should receive a small reward.”
She looked after the two of them until they had disappeared, then she squirmed to the captain.
"Shouldn't the ship's doctor take care of them?"
Shiffort shook his head and said, "Old Lakewington forbade him to take care of human cargo. He thinks that this apostasy from society should not be rewarded with charity."
"How can he be so cruel?"
"He is a businessman, and a successful one. "In addition, Miss Katharina, you are using our regular hospital quarters," the captain explained. Meanwhile, two sailors were uncuffing Jane's wrists. Her battered body fell limp into the arms of one of the men. Katharina thought tormented. Suddenly she felt guilty about the redhead's fate and an idea came to her. The girl gathered all her courage and stood in front of the captain, who was about to leave the bridge.
“Captain Shiffort. I understand the reasons, but then there is certainly nothing wrong with bringing the woman to my quarters. I will take care of her.”
“But she is a condemned person…” he began to reply.
“The Bible tells us that God alone should judge people. Besides, it wasn't the Lord himself who took care of lepers."
The captain was briefly a little confused by this theological explanation and nodded. “If you want to be so selfless, it honors you, Miss Katharina. I hope you know what a burden you are taking on yourself.
"Thank you, Captain," she nodded, and immediately hurried off in a new direction to meet the sailors who were just getting Jane away to steer. One of them was Mac, the man she had gotten to know with a slap in the face the day before she left. He helped her bring the slave's battered body to her cabin, and brought fresh water and linen so that Katharina could care for the wounded woman.
Jane had again fallen into a merciful faint and received Nothing about all of this. Katharina, who had often treated minor wounds on her uncle's hunting trips, took a bottle of St. John's herb oil from her suitcase. It was an old remedy that she had been given by a midwife before she left. She gently dabbed at the torn skin. Still, the woman kept wincing and a soft moan escaped her lips.
“Don’t worry. I'll make sure nothing happens to you now. I will be strong for you," Katharina whispered to herself.