The Sea's Rough Magic Page 13

  That frightened him, that change in himself. He never used to care what anyone thought of him, save the Lash and, when they met, Ike. Now it seemed his life turned upon the reflections in a stranger’s eyes, any and every stranger’s eyes. Ike and James knew him and, unaccountably, still had some regard for him, despite what he’d done. It made him wonder which of them was madder. It was considering that question that allowed Aaron to drift off to sleep.

  )O(

  James Dunbar opened the door to his home and was greeted by Rodney. A deep inhalation told him that Rosemarie was cooking steak-and-kidney pie, possibly the finest dish he’d ever eaten. That was good as he had some news for Aaron today that bothered him. He swung the uniform coat off and handed it to his footman Rodney, followed by the tricorn. “How have things been today?”

  “Quiet, sir,” Rodney answered with a slight smile. “Dr. Hudson visited and reported that Master Stern is well on his way to recovery. He expressed some concern about Captain Johnson, however. It seems he is not taking his medicines as he should.”

  James sighed and rolled his eyes. “Captain Johnson just may be a law unto himself. Very well, I will do what I can. Where is the good Captain?”

  Rodney gestured toward the salon. “I believe he is in there, sir. He mentioned having to speak with you.”

  “Ah,” James said. He started into the salon and saw Johnson standing at the window gazing out through the lace of the curtains. “Aaron?”

  When he said the name, Aaron spun about and threw his hands up over his head. “Sorry, I din’t--.”

  James felt his heart sink at the reaction. He stopped several feet from Aaron and spoke softly. “My apologies. I should have known better.”

  When Johnson looked at Dunbar finally, his eyes were still wild. He realized who it was and stepped away from the window. “Sorry. Guess I’m jus’ not ready t’ live with normal folks yet.”

  He flashed a nervous grin that made James’s heart skip a beat. It was the first time he’d seen Johnson crack a smile. He took a careful step forward. “It will come in time. Your difficulties weren’t created overnight and I doubt they will be cured that soon. Will you join me for dinner? Rosemarie, my cook, is excellent. I believe she is preparing her specialty of steak and kidney pie. Mr. Stern is also invited, if he is well enough.”

  Aaron shook his head. “No, the lad’s not ready fer a sit-down meal. I’ll join ye, though. Got to apologize in advance. My table manners are a bit out of practice.”

  James smiled. “Since it will only be the two of us, we’ll see about improving them. Would you like a sherry before dinner?”

  Johnson shrugged. “Not- I’m not much of a sherry drinker. Have ye some wine? Or rum?”

  James nodded. “I believe I have some port here. A very good vintage, if I recall. Let me call Rodney.”

  Aaron moved to the other side of the room when the servant entered, lowering his eyes and making himself as small a target as possible. James noted that and asked Rodney to bring the bottle back with him. Aaron did not return to Dunbar’s side until Rodney had left the wine and departed. At that point, Aaron sidled back to the settee and took the drink he was offered.

  Several minutes passed. The silence was dreadful

  “The process of salvaging the Maid has begun,” Dunbar said gently. “She was a beautiful ship. From what I understand, much of her furnishings will sell well. You could be looking at a nice pension from it.”

  There was a long pause during which Aaron downed the wine then spoke, shaking his head. “’Tis blood money. I want none of it. She was a good ship an’ it’s not right fer her t’ end that way. Give it t’ Ike.”

  “There’s a substantial reward for the capture of the Maid’s crew. I- I’d like you to have my share,” Dunbar nearly whispered the last words, wondering how Johnson would react.

  “No,” Aaron shook his head again, pouring himself another glassful of the port and tossing that down as well. “Can’t take more o’ yer charity. Since I did nothin’ t’ assist in the capture of the Maid, ‘tain’t my reward. I s’pose there’s other ways fer me t’- t’ earn a livin’. Got t’ admit, though, none of ‘em appeal t’ me at the moment.”

  Dunbar shot Aaron a glance and saw the former pirate’s face was ashen, his hands trembling visibly at the mere thought of whatever he was contemplating. “What do you mean ‘other ways’?”

  Johnson looked up at him, briefly, and Dunbar felt his face flush. “Doin’ what McSwain had me doin’. Maybe I could manage t’ drink meself t’ death ‘fore I stopped bein’ pretty enough t’ earn me liquor, eh?”

  “No,” Dunbar said, suddenly vehement. “You will not become a common whore—not if I have anything to say about it!”

  Johnson glanced up at him, this time his eyes remained locked on James’s for several seconds. “Ye don’t, mate. It’s my life t’ live. I have t’ live it the best way I can or die tryin’. If that means I end up on me knees or takin’ it in an alleyway, that’s what I’ll do. I ‘preciate the rescue, Captain, but it’s over now.”

  James realized at that moment that he had been making plans for Aaron without talking to Aaron about them. Between his work and his social obligations, he had seen Johnson for only a few minutes every day during the time they’d been back in Port Royal. When Rodney announced dinner, they had been sitting in silence for several minutes. James led the way, not sure if Aaron had toured the entire house yet. When they stepped into the dining room, the meal was laid at the near end so that two adjacent chairs could be occupied. James held the chair for Aaron, who shot him an odd look as he took the seat. James assumed his own place and muttered a quick grace then they began eating.

  Several bites into the meal, Aaron spoke. “Ye have a good cook. Tastes jus’ like the pie Henry’s wife made fer me. When Ike’s feelin’ better, she’ll have t’ make another.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged,” James said with a smile. “I apologize for my outburst earlier. Of course, I have no say in how you live your life. I just- It just doesn’t seem right for someone so- for you to have to live that kind of life. Perhaps Mr. Stern can purchase a fishing boat? The two of you could make a living that way.”

  Aaron shrugged and poured himself more of the wine. Despite his emaciation, he could barely choke down less than half of his meal and, at one point, he stopped eating and had to walk away for several minutes. When he returned, he’d been obviously weeping. James placed a hand on his wrist delicately.

  “Are you all right?”

  Johnson shrugged. “I doubt it. Not right above deck, not right below. Were I a ship, ye’d have to give me to the wreckers, eh?”

  James looked grim. “You need to give yourself a chance, Aaron. The fact that you survived that horror tells me that there’s something special about you. Compared to what you went through, life will be easy now, won’t it?”

  Aaron gave him a skeptical look and shrugged. He took another bite of the pie and drank more wine. He sat back and placed the napkin on the table. James found his appetite was gone. A few silent minutes passed then James managed to say, “Shall we adjourn to the drawing room? I have a good brandy I’d like to try.”

  For a moment, he thought Aaron would readily agree. In the end, though, Johnson shook his head. “Sorry, I think I best be headin’ fer me bunk. ‘Sbeen a long day. I-There is a favor I’d like t’ ask of ye.”

  James felt his pulse quicken. Fighting down the ridiculous hope that Johnson would be interested in him the same way he was in Johnson, he managed to smile encouragingly. “Please do.”

  Aaron met his eyes briefly then looked away, chagrined. “I know I ain’t got no swag but I’d be much obliged if ye could buy some rum fer me? I- I’ll pay ye back fer it. I may be a pirate an’ a lunatic but I do keep me word t’ those who keep theirs t’ me.”

  Despite his disappointment, James felt more than a little relieved. “I am sure we can arrange to have some rum purchased, Johnson. I’ll have Rodney attend to it in t
he morning. Mention has been made that the Venture is needed to take Rear-Admiral Braithwaite to Havana. We may be gone several weeks. You and Ike are welcome to stay here while I’m away. Is that acceptable?”

  He saw the sheer terror flit across Aaron’s face. After a moment, Aaron looked up at him, the eyes devoid of all emotion. “Ye needn’t ask my permission, Cap’n. D’ ye want me an’ the lad t’ leave?”

  James’s first impulse was to cry out “No!” but he fought it down and stood, extending a hand to Aaron, who cautiously took it. “When you are both recovered, we will discuss the matter. In the meanwhile, you are welcome to stay here as long as you need, but on one condition.”

  At the words, something sparked in Aaron’s face and he started to pull away. “What d’ ye want?”

  “I want you to call me James,” Dunbar answered, cupping his other hand under Aaron’s elbow to keep him close. “I’m not your superior officer but I do hope to be your friend. Is that acceptable?”

  For a few seconds more, he thought Aaron might try to bolt from him. Instead, the former pirate finally calmed himself. “Aye, s- James. Thank ye.”

  “Don’t mention it,” James replied. “Do you need help to your room?”

  Aaron shook his head and Dunbar let him go. He watched Aaron cross the entryway and start up the stairs. When Aaron disappeared from his sight, James slumped back into his chair. The whole notion of leaving Aaron for any length of time made him sick with anxiety. So much could happen while he was gone.

  )O(

  Chapter 16:

  One Week Later

  "So good t' see ye again, Aaron," The voice made him shiver and he turned to see the jaundiced eyes regarding him with cold cruelty. A whimper rose in his throat then died there. “How’s yer little navy friend, eh?”

  He tried to speak, opening his mouth, but nothing came from his throat. It mattered little to McSwain. “Ah, so he abandoned ye t’ me whims again. After all he said ye meant t’ him, he still threw ye t’ me tender mercies! ‘Tis time, Aaron. ‘Tis always an’ ever time.”

  “Captain Dunbar!” A rough shake of his shoulder yanked him from the nightmare and James found himself clutching at his own neck. A look up into Lieutenant Chambers’ eyes caused him to draw a deep breath. “Captain, Rear-Admiral Mercer wishes to speak with you.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” James muttered after clearing his voice.

  “Are you all right, sir?” Chambers asked, his eyes wide with concern. “You seemed to be having a-a nightmare.”

  James nodded and pushed back the blankets. He reached for his breeches and pulled them on. “I- I was held captive by the pirates aboard the Saucy Maid for nearly a week many years ago. It’s part of the reason—well, Captain Johnson risked his life for me while I was with them. Part of the reason that I feel so indebted to him. Please, go tell the Rear-Admiral that I will be there momentarily.”

  “Yes, sir,” Chambers nodded and turned as if to go. At the last second, though, he hesitated. “I won’t mention this to anyone, sir.”

  James smiled grimly. “I appreciate that, Lieutenant. Carry on.”

  )O(

  Aaron uncorked the bottle of rum and took a whiff of the fragrance. Spicy and slightly sweet, it sent a different kind of shiver down his spine. He poured himself a mug then slid the cork back into the bottle. When the first bottle showed up with his breakfast tray nearly a week ago, he wasn’t sure if there would be another so he carefully rationed himself. When he finished the first, he left the empty bottle on the tray to find it was replaced the next day. As the golden liquid slid over his tongue, he allowed himself to savor the burning sensation, partially from the spice, partially from the alcohol, that followed. It hit the back of his throat and caused something in the back of his head to begin to hum. The last rum he drank was just before the mutiny and the flavor reminded him of happier times, times when he was a fierce fighter, a powerful captain, and, most of all, an ardent lover. He blamed the rum for the welling of tears in his eyes.

  “Cap’n?” Ike asked from the bed, smiling slightly at the sight of Aaron enjoying his drink so much. “Mind pourin’ me a bit?”

  Aaron grinned at the young man. “Not at all, love.”

  He poured Ike some then handed it over. Ike sat up on the side of the bed cautiously and took a deep drink. As he lowered the cup, he looked up to see Aaron yawn broadly. When Aaron met his eyes, he could see the exhaustion on the former pirate’s face. He reached out and rested a hand on Aaron’s knee. “I’m awake right now, Cap’n. Do ye want t’ take some rest?”

  For a moment, Aaron seemed unsure. After a moment, he took Ike’s hand in his own, lifting it from his leg. “If ye don’t mind, love. Needn’t be long, savvy?”

  Ike smiled and nodded, squeezing Aaron’s hand lightly. “Of course not. Just make yerself at home.”

  As soon as Aaron slid between the sheets and his head nestled onto the pillow, he was drifting off. Ike drew Aaron into his arms the second he heard the heavy sigh that signaled Aaron was fast asleep. He rested his cheek against Aaron’s hair and closed his eyes, trying to imagine that they were aboard their own ship, sailing somewhere off some coast, rather than in this grandiose box that Dunbar called a “home.” He knew that Aaron was troubled that the Captain had left them and he felt another stab of jealousy at that. Aaron apparently felt something for the Naval officer and Ike grew concerned.

  Beside him, he heard Aaron begin to mutter and felt his body begin to jerk. Sometimes the nightmare was bearable for Aaron. Other times, he woke screaming. Ike began to stroke Aaron’s arm and whisper comforting words to him.

  “It’s all right, love. You’re safe now. Nobody’s going t’ hurt you ever again,” Ike moved his hand up to pet Aaron’s hair. “I’ll protect you, I promise.”

  He heard Aaron sob, the sound like shark’s teeth scraping his heart. He rested his cheek against Aaron’s hair, smelling the scents of lavender and rum. He resumed muttering to Aaron, telling him his plans to steal a ship so that they could sail off to find treasure. He told Aaron that he wanted nothing more than to be his lover, his matelot, and to someday die side-by-side, fighting to a glorious death. He allowed his lips to graze Aaron’s cheek when Aaron jerked away from him.

  “No!” Aaron’s body convulsed and Ike grew frightened. “James!!”

  Aaron drew a breath and it rattled strangely. When Ike placed a hand on Aaron’s arm again, Aaron shivered. He tried to inhale again and began to cough. At first, Ike tried to hold Aaron, thinking he could minimize Aaron’s suffering. Instead, as Aaron’s spasms went on, he seemed to become weaker, his breathing growing harsher.

  Then there was silence. For the space of ten heartbeats, Ike waited for some sound out of Aaron, a cough, a wheeze, or most blessedly his own name, but there was nothing. Fear made Ike act. He shook Aaron’s shoulder. “Aaron!! Say something!”

  Aaron’s head lolled back and his eyes fluttered open. His lips were turning blue and his hands clawed weakly at his chest. Horrified, Ike struggled to his feet then to the door to his room. He staggered into the hall and began to shout.

  “Somebody help! Aaron’s dying!! Help me!”

  He made it to the head of the stairs just as the manservant reached the foyer. “What the devil are you on about, boy?”

  “It’s Aaron! He needs the doctor right away. He’s- He can’t breathe!!” Ike thought he was going to be sick and gripped the banister to keep from collapsing. “Dammit, he needs help now!!”

  The manservant came up the stairs and slid an arm under Ike’s to support him. With his help, Ike made it back to his own room where they found Aaron. To Ike’s relief, Aaron was breathing again but it was shallow and noisy. When the servant saw Aaron’s predicament, his face grew pinched. He placed a hand on Aaron’s forehead lightly, ignoring Aaron’s attempt to move away from him, then shook his head. Without a word to Ike, he spun on his heel and strode briskly from the room.

  )O(

  James woke from the nightma
re gasping for air. He sat up and knuckled the moisture from his eyes. They had been gone from Port Royal for over a fortnight and were to be sailing for home the next eventide. James’s chest ached when he thought about what might have happened while they were gone. Worse, he seemed unable to have a decent night’s sleep.

  Each nightmare had been unique but equally horrific. Even when they began as tonight’s had, with a smiling Aaron seizing him by the lapels and dragging him into a closet in his home, they always took a sinister turn. In the darkness of the closet, he could make out the whites of Aaron’s eyes and the flash of gold when he smiled. Their clothes dropped away as only they could in such a dream. James remembered being pleased at the fact that Aaron’s flesh was unmarked. The next he knew, he was buggering Aaron, the pleasure nearing its peak when he noticed the bruises on Aaron’s hips. His eyes slid up the suddenly too-frail body before him to see scars raising to white lines on the previously blemish-free skin. When he gasped, Aaron turned to look at him. James knew he could have tolerated hate and fear in those eyes but what caused him to issue the sob that woke him was the broken spirit therein.

  James threw back the blanket and pulled on his breeches. It was close enough to his usual time to rise that returning to bed would serve no purpose. He sat down at his desk and drew his log-book out. As he did, he noticed a folded scrap of paper at the bottom of the drawer. He was certain the paper hadn’t been there yesterday morning.