I finished breakfasting, then after I had washed my bowl and spoon and returned them to my quarters, I pondered what to do. The cabin deck was spotless and dust-free, and the rich reddish-brown of the furniture and bulkhead panelling gleamed through many layers of polished beeswax. The laundry basket held only two towels, three linen table napkins and one shirt.

Captain sat in a chair in front of the stern windows with a book in his lap, and I sighed at the sight, so delighted to see he enjoys reading. I would like to be over there near him, but I have no reason; the windows are all open, and there is no dusting or polishing required. I had checked his privy to see it clean, so I took a book from my quarters and crossed the cabin toward him and said, "Sir, if I may?"

He looked up and smiled. "Yes, what is it, Boy?"

"I have finished my chores, and Steward said I may sit and read until more is required of me. I shall be out by the base of the mizzenmast if you need anything, Sir."

He nodded, then replied, "That is a mighty large tome. What is its name?"

I opened it to the frontispiece, cradled on my arms and held it out toward him. "A collection of William Shakespeare's plays, Sir. From Father's library. He had told me I would understand them when I was older, and since I am now that, I brought it along with me."

Captain slowly bobbed his head, remaining silent for a long while, then he pointed toward the dining table. "You may bring a chair over here and sit in the windows with me. It will be more comfortable than out on deck."

"Oh, thank you, Sir." I set the book down and fetched a chair, placing it next to the windows and just far enough from him to not crowd. As we read in silence, I sensed a warmth I had not felt since Father departed. Comfortable, at ease, loved.

Not like the coldness from Mother. I sighed, then returning my attention to the book, I continued reading the play, delighted with it until I stumbled on a word in a passage.

            Be you his eunuch and your mute I'll be;
            When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.

I read on, thinking its meaning would clarify, and when it did not, I turned back the page and read the passage again. My confusion remained, and I heaved a sigh.

"What is it, Boy?"

"A word I do not understand, and it prevents me from knowing the story."

"Perhaps I can assist. What is the word?"

"I know not how it is pronounced, whether it is nush or nuck, but it is spelt E-U-N-U-C-H."

"That is pronounced as you-nuck. A eunuch is a man who has been cut of his cullions and tail, and but for the lack of a cleft, he is much as a woman below."

"Oh, my! Why would anyone do that?"

"It is a practice in the East, used by those in high power to create guards for their women. The cullions provide the urge, and without them, eunuchs are undistracted by the charms of women. Also, the Church of Rome does this to retain sweet voices for their choirs. Without the cullions, a boy does not change to a man, and his voice remains as that of a woman."

"Aha! This now makes sense."

He tilted his head. "What manner of story is this you read?"

"It is about a woman who disguises herself as a man to gain a position in a duke's court. And I now understand she plays being a eunuch to explain her soft voice."

He smiled at me, and I caught myself gazing into his eyes, enthralled by their colour, clear as a summer sky, then I asked, "When will my voice deepen?"

"Soon. You are almost fifteen, and that is about the time when my changes began."

"I did not know then all the changes which had happened to Chris, my older brother." I pointed toward the door. "But yesterday, observing the men out there while we washed and laundered, I am now aware of the physical differences, the broader shoulders, the larger muscles, the extra hair, and the bigger pizzle."

"Indeed, those are among the physical changes. Your voice will deepen a while later, but it begins with your cullions enlarging to hang down your thigh, and your tail will soon follow."

I recaptured images in my mind of the men I had seen on deck, then diverting my thoughts, I asked, "And what purpose do all these changes serve?"

"In olden days, the increased strength was to protect and to provide. A woman and her child are vulnerable, and our forebearers needed to guard them against harm and to ensure their nourishment. Women would choose the man she deemed to be the best suited for this."

"In olden times. But what about now? In modern times?"

"Now, it seems the choices are for those with the most worth. A person's position and wealth appear to have displaced most of the other attributes. They marry for power, not for love."

I nodded. "Such as with my cousins being presented at the balls. Father said it was like cattle being led into the ring, but not being judged for themselves; rather chosen for their lineage and pedigree."

"An astute observation. This is very much as with my assessment of the season, the coming out. Most of the matches are negotiated among parents, with little concern for the desires of their children."

"Much as how we had chosen stallions to sire our mares."

"Exactly!" He paused for a long while, bobbing his head, then he asked, "Have you watched them?"

"Watched whom?"

"The stallions and the mares."

"I have."

"Fine, then you understand. This is similar to how a man implants his seed in a woman. In her cleft is a hole into which his tail is introduced."

"Mother had not yet arrived at this point before she flushed red and stopped."

Captain nodded. "Likely too embarrassed to tell you about the pleasure of the act. It is the most exquisite and most personal experience that can be shared between a man and a woman. And it is accompanied by intense pleasure."

He paused again, then he tilted his head toward my breeches. "I am certain that by now, you have discovered the joys of touching yourself there."

From my own pleasure last night and with what Edwards had said, I knew what Captain meant. And by the manner in which he stated this, I sensed it to be normal practice for boys, so I nodded.

"Then you have some small idea of the pleasure which attends."

I nodded again while I thought of my convulsive shuddering last night, then I asked. "Does the woman derive similar pleasure, or is it simply a duty as that I see with the mares?"

"If the man is attentive and caring, and if he takes the time, her pleasure can exceed his."

"This might be why Mother was often moody. I had once overheard them talk in a heated manner about this. Father found pleasure, but she found none."

"Oh, my! That is sad. A man must allow the woman to take her pleasure before he takes his. Once he releases, he is spent."

He returned to his book, as did I to mine. The pages blurred as I reflected upon what he had said. Give pleasure, not take. If we each do this, then surely bliss results. While I tried without success to imagine Mother giving pleasure, I was pulled to the present by Captain's voice.

"I am accustomed to company and intercourse while eating, and I miss not having those. Would you sit at my table and join me for meals? You have an essence and an intelligence I much enjoy."

"I would be delighted to, Sir."