Kit Black by Monica Danetiu-Pana Page A

the Africans who were taken as chattel. I had seen them. Proud, but bent and beaten, taken in chains to the ships which would carry them to the sugar cane and cotton plantations on the Caribbean Islands and New Orleans.
    I had decided at a very young age that I was going to have my own fleet one day, a virtual armada. Like the legendary Ann Bonny and Charlotte du Berry, I would be a lady pirate. I would run my own life, and I would never deal in human flesh. Just rum, coffee, and spices, and beautiful fabrics. I would never be a doxy like my mother, lying night after night on my back under some sweating, stinking sailor. If and when I wanted a man, he would look good, smell good, and be of my own choosing. I was getting ideas about sex lately. I knew what it entailed because of what I had heard and seen, and I’d heard that it was painful. If some of the screams I’d heard were proof, it didn’t sound like a lot of fun for the female. When I mentioned the screaming to Roger, he just laughed and said that it was just an act so the man would pay more. I didn’t understand it. I was pretty sure that once I had sex, my curiosity would be staunched and I would never need it again. I never imagined that day so close.
    I had been sent to the market that morning, when I saw him, the man who finally moved me to reveal my womanhood. He was with another officer, a good-looking man with a mustache and soft black eyes. I heard his voice before I saw his face. He was speaking in French, asking the other man if he wished to have a piece of the pear he was eating. Up until that point, I was just eavesdropping on their conversation. I suppose it was the mention of doxies that got me interested.
    â€œI won’t be coming along to The Three Horseshoes, Damien,” he said.
    â€œOh, come on, Armand. We have an evening to kill, and I hear this place is unbelievable. The whores are beautiful, the rum is flowing, we could have a great deal of fun.”
    â€œYou know I’m betrothed to Sandrine,” Armand said simply.
    â€œSo, what’s new about that? You’ve been betrothed to Sandrine since you were children, and you’ve been with other women before this.”
    â€œI’m turning over a new leaf,” Armand said with a grin. “No more women of easy virtue. Even if it was an arranged marriage, I intend to be faithful until our wedding. Besides, this fooling around with doxies is dangerous, Damien. You and Gerard are going to end up with a pair of shriveled pissers. I personally intend to keep myself whole for a long time to come.”
    â€œBut you would like to be with a woman if the right one happened to come along.”
    The young officer called Armand laughed. “I suppose that if she were pretty enough, I wouldn’t say no. It’s been a long time…too damn long.”
    â€œWhen we set sail out tomorrow, it might be a year until we even see a woman.”
    Armand smiled and nodded. “Alright, I admit it. If right now, right this minute, an angel came and offered herself to me, I might say yes.”
    The officer named Damien just laughed. That’s when they turned and I got a better look at the two men. I felt all the air drain from my lungs when I saw Armand’s face. My limbs seemed to go weak and limp, my heart fluttered wildly in my chest. I think I fell head over heels at that moment. If there was ever a man to quench my curiosity and divest me of my cumbersome virginity, it was he. And I was sure that he would pay good gold for his night with an angel. I might get my boots and sword after all.
    He wasn’t a huge man, but tall enough. He was smaller than his friend, leaner, more elegant. He was likely only an inch or two over my height, but he was wide shouldered and lean of hip. He had a powerful physique that owed everything to smooth, long muscles, gracefully sculpted over his perfectly proportioned frame. Even his hands were exquisite. I watched as