The Sea's Rough Magic Read online

Page 8


  To his horror, McSwain seized him by the collar, drawing him back. Ike was at the door, his hand on the latch and Aaron called. “Keep goin’! Don’t look back.”

  He knew, the instant the words left his mouth, though, that he should never have said it. McSwain had his claws sunk into Aaron’s shoulder, obviously not willing to let him leave, and Aaron groaned when he saw Ike’s expression. “Aye, whelp, keep goin’ if ye don’t want t’ ever see yer Captain Aaron again. If ye should escape, jus’ think about what I could do t’ him, hmm?”

  Ike’s eyes filled with horror at the concept. He took a step back toward them. “Don’t hurt him.”

  “Hurt my Aaron here?” McSwain’s sneer made Aaron’s spine crawl. “Not ‘less he deserves it. Say g’ night t’ yer Uncle Aaron, boy.”

  Aaron was never sure if McSwain struck him with something or struck something with him. All he did know was that he was grateful he didn’t have to hear what McSwain was going to do to Ike, which in turn made him sick with guilt for just a few seconds until he no longer thought at all.

  )O(

  Ike shivered and tried to sit up. His every muscle and joint ached. Worse, his arse agonized him. The remembered sensations of those bony claws clutching him, the icy flesh moving within him, nearly made him vomit again. He heard Aaron whimper and dragged himself from the Captain’s bunk to go in search of the former captain. He found him in a pile of rags and blankets in the corner, curled into a fetal position. When Ike drew back the top blanket, he saw the back of Aaron’s shirt was dark with dried blood. The sight made him sick then angry. Carefully, he slid into the makeshift bed next to Aaron. He ran a hand through the black hair and realized that the reason Aaron looked so different was that someone had chopped the braids with their various trinkets off of Aaron’s head. He remembered asking Aaron about them. At the time, the Captain had laughed lightly and explained that most of the beads were for bargaining but that, here and there, there were beads representing people, places or memories that he never wanted to forget. All your memories are gone, Captain. I’m so sorry, Ike frowned.

  Ike watched Aaron sleep and couldn’t fight the warmth that flared in his heart at the sight. He supposed that he didn’t really want to. He leaned forward slightly and cringed as the pain of his abused ribs made its presence felt. He slid his hand into Aaron’s cautiously, afraid of waking him, and marveled at the fact that it was so tiny compared to his own. When he last held Aaron’s hand, the Captain had seemed so strong and so powerful, his hands swamping Ike’s. But that was years ago, Ike remarked to himself. He didn’t know which made him feel worse—the fact that his father was dead or the fact that Aaron had lost the Maid. He did know that he couldn’t stand to see Aaron put through much more of this torment. McSwain had to die and soon.

  “Isaac?” Aaron’s eyes opened and there was a confused look about them that worried Ike. “What’s-Where are we?”

  Ike shrugged. “Don’t know, Aaron. McSwain hasn’t seen fit to come discuss our heading with me. How do you feel?”

  Aaron started to sit up but Ike restrained him lightly. “I been worse. Jus’ . . . ye shaved yer beard off, eh?”

  Ike narrowed his eyes as he considered what to say next. He had never had a beard but his father had. “I decided to try it bare fer a while, love. What say you t’ a bit more rest, eh?”

  Aaron drew Ike’s hand up to place it against his cheek and he started kissing the palm. “Ah, Henry, I miss ye so much. It’s been so long since I saw daylight or felt the sea-spray. He’s killin’ me a piece at a time! If ye cannot get me away from here, can ye kill me quick? I can’t feel naught but the pain anymore. Jus’ the pain.”

  Aaron’s eyes closed and he slept again. For a moment, Ike wondered if he was ever awake. He moved closer and pressed a tender kiss to Aaron’s forehead then nestled himself against the former captain to sleep. He just prayed that McSwain found some other form of entertainment tonight.

  )O(

  Chapter 10:

  August 1718

  “Good news, Aaron!” McSwain’s voice was unaccountably cheery as he stepped into the cabin. “We’re headed fer the Isle of the Fates.”

  Aaron managed to raise his head in time to grab Ike’s wrist. “Not now, love.”

  Ike wasn’t in much better shape. Younger, though, and with the resilience born of optimism and bravery, he seemed always ready to challenge McSwain. Ike glanced back at him then looked away, his cheeks reddening. Aaron gave the youth’s hand a squeeze then stumbled to his feet.

  “An’ what d’ we care?” Aaron said, keeping his distance from Angus and shielding Ike from his sight.

  “Well, lad, ye should care because it means we’ll soon be quit o’ the curse. An’ when that happens, it’ll be time fer yer little friend t’ move on,” As McSwain said the last two words, he made a slicing motion across his neck.

  Aaron shuddered and nearly fell to his knees. Not again, He wanted to scream. I can’t lose Ike like I lost the Lash. I have to do something! He swallowed hard and forced himself to take a few steps toward Angus. “Now why would ye go an’ do a fool thing like that, eh? He’s a good lad, handsome an’ strong. Sell ‘im off or let ‘im join the crew. I-I’d be mos’ appreciative.”

  McSwain, who had been ignoring Aaron, now turned to look at him, glowering into his very soul. He approached Aaron until they were nearly touching which forced Aaron to look down and away. He gulped loudly when he felt McSwain’s fingers brush across the swollen cheek under his injury.

  “Appreciative, ye say,” Angus’s voice had dropped to a hiss. “Now, what could ye possibly mean by sayin’ such a thing?”

  Fighting himself, Aaron raised his hands and placed them on McSwain’s chest, pulling the Captain closer. He looked in the general direction of Angus’s face but couldn’t bring himself to actually meet the crazy green eyes. “I mean that it would make me a mite friendlier t’ yer cause, love. An’ if ye were t’ free Ike—set him ashore in Nassau or some other such place--.”

  Aaron let the implication fall into the silence. If he had to trade his continued misery for Ike’s freedom, he found the bargain more than satisfactory. He heard Ike stir behind him, realizing finally what was happening, but he prayed the boy would hold off.

  Suddenly, McSwain seized him by the throat, hauling him up so that his toes just graced the deck. “D’ ye take me fer a fool, Aaron, hmm? Ye’re always plottin’ and plannin’. Soon as I’d release the little bastard, he’d stick a knife in me. Or you’d strangle me in me sleep. Nay, I’ll not be settin’ him free.”

  McSwain tossed him away and Aaron cried out as he hit the bulkhead. Ike, to Aaron’s surprise, restrained himself from attacking Angus. Instead, he came to Aaron’s side as their captor stalked from the room. “Are you all right?”

  Aaron clutched at his side for a moment while the pain lanced through him. It wasn’t broken ribs, he could tell. This was something else, something more serious, and Aaron grew even more afraid for Ike. I’m the only hope there is to keep Ike alive, He mused as Ike slipped an arm around his waist and drew him toward the desk. If I die, McSwain will never let Ike go free. As Ike helped him to sit down in the chair, Aaron answered him. “Never better, love. Ye heard?”

  The look in Ike’s eyes—a look that was far too wise for one of his years—told Aaron all he needed to know. “You don’t have to do that, Captain. I can take care of meself, ye know.”

  Aaron managed a tiny smile. “I know. How’s yer hand?”

  Ike raised his right hand into the light. All four fingers had been bound together to try to keep them as straight as possible. Aaron had begged Ike to comply with Angus’s demand before McSwain got around to breaking his thumb. “It hurts but it ain’t too bad. D’ ye need a drink?”

  Aaron shrugged. “I can get it meself, ye know.”

  )O(

  Ike seethed inside. How dare McSwain hurt Aaron again? And Aaron didn’t even do anything to deserve it! He rested his good hand on his Captain
’s shoulder. “I know but I’m up.”

  As he turned to fetch Aaron a drink of grog from the cask by the door, he tried not to think about the vision he’d had that morning. He’d awakened next to Aaron in their makeshift nest and, for one minute, had seen Aaron in all his radiance, as if he had been restored to the glorious state he was when they first met. Except for one thing. He was dead and being prepared for burial, his face wax-like, his warmth stolen. Ike had nearly wept at the notion but the touch of Aaron’s hand as he turned over in his sleep had dissipated the nightmare.

  The vision told Ike one thing more clearly than anything else. Aaron was dying. He paused as he brought the cup back. Johnson sat hunched over in the chair, his face pale and beads of sweat pouring off him. He clutched at his side and rocked slightly. That frightened Ike. What’s more, he’d seen Aaron cough up blood. Like Mama, He fought the tears back. Don’t know if it’s the cancer but that can’t be good. Captain Aaron’s all I have left in this world. I don’t want to lose him. He returned to Aaron’s side with the grog.

  “Why don’t ye lay down fer a bit?” Ike suggested as he watched Aaron down the liquid with gusto. Ike himself nearly couldn’t stand to drink the stuff, it was beginning to get rancid. “Would ye like more?”

  Aaron’s eyes met his. “Ike, ye don’t need t’ take care o’ me, savvy? Ye need t’ take care of yerself! I’m broken an’ useless now. Let McSwain do what he wants wi’ me but you need t’ be free. Worry about yerself, love.”

  “Don’t say that!” Ike suddenly found himself snarling. “I need you! I don’t want to be free without you, Aaron.”

  Immediately, Ike’s stomach tightened when he saw Aaron cowering away from him. He’d seen this behavior from Aaron often enough in McSwain’s presence; now he was going to be the cause? He barely stopped himself from heaving as he threw himself across the cabin. He panted for air as he pressed his forehead to the smooth paneling. An unacceptable yet undeniable urge to slap Aaron or shake him made the tears finally run down his face. How could he even think of such a thing?

  He didn’t know what to do or say anymore. He couldn’t stand the thought of McSwain setting him loose somewhere but keeping Aaron prisoner. Worse, he feared what would happen if Aaron should die and he would be left alone with McSwain. The whole idea made him shake with fear which made him feel dreadfully ashamed of himself. Death would be a release for Aaron but he didn’t want to be left alone. Aaron’s been through years of this and I can’t even stand a few months. I’m the useless one!

  “Isaac? Love?” Aaron’s voice was soft, nearly a whimper.

  Ike turned to see Aaron standing just a foot or two away, fear still in his whole manner but a desperation on his face that made Ike shake his head. “Aye, Aaron. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean t’ carry on so.”

  Aaron touched his cheek and Ike pressed his face to the warmth of his palm. “’Tis all right, sweet one. I should know better, eh? What have I t’ fear from you?”

  Ike let his good hand draw Aaron carefully into his embrace rather than answer. He didn’t dare confess to Aaron how jealous he became when McSwain took him. Needless to say, he would never let Aaron know about the dreams—or were they nightmares?—he had wherein he was raping Aaron. He’d awakened two mornings now with wet blankets because of them. He buried his face into Aaron’s hair.

  )O(

  McSwain watched the Isle of the Fates grow closer and felt himself grinning again. Was there enough treasure? No, there was never enough, but it had been far too long since he’d last enjoyed the touch of anyone’s hand, let alone Aaron Johnson’s. The time had come and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him now.

  Despite his words to Aaron, he wouldn’t kill the Stern whelp. He’d serve to keep the men in check until they reached Petit Goave or some other pirate sanctuary. If the boy survived and escaped, he wouldn’t care. He’d been too long unsatisfied by the proximity of his former captain. He needed relief that only Johnson could provide.

  “Cap’n, Isle of the Fates ahead. Ye want the helm?” Brennan rumbled.

  McSwain drew in a breath of air. It would be damp and there would be a tang of salt to it when this was all over. He stepped into position behind the wheel and let his muscle-memory take over steering the ship through the dangerous passage. He never allowed any of the men to do this and there had been so many trips that he no longer needed the map. He met Brennan’s questioning gaze and nodded. The bosun turned to call out the orders he knew by heart.

  )O(

  Ike sat beside Aaron as he slept, fitfully, on McSwain’s bunk. It seemed he spent most of his time contemplating how to avenge Aaron now. He hated the fact that Aaron felt obligated to protect him. I’m not a child anymore. I don’t want Aaron to fight any more of my battles, He sighed and rested his left hand on Aaron’s hair. Aaron moaned and ducked away from the touch.

  “Sorry,” Ike whispered and withdrew.

  He rose and made his way across the room to the grog. He dipped himself out a mug. As he drank the liquid down, he thought about what Aaron had told him. While he’d known, instinctively, it seemed, that Aaron and his father were in love, it had never occurred to him that Aaron might have had feelings for McSwain at one time. No, not that Aaron had ever felt toward McSwain as he felt toward the Lash but, Aaron had conceded, there had been a time when he appreciated Angus’s touch.

  “Neglectin’ what ye love, Ike, is what does it. No other meant as much t’ me as the Lash but we took each other fer granted,” Aaron’s voice was so sad that Ike nearly broke down. “I din’t think he loved me anymore, that’s why I turned away. An’ then I found out.”

  “Found out?”

  Aaron shrugged. “Don’t matter now. Ye’re all I got left o’ him, love. I don’t want t’ see anythin’ bad happen t’ you.”

  “It won’t,” Ike remembered telling him. “I promise.”

  At those words, Aaron turned away. “Don’t make such promises, Ike, if it ain’t in yer power t’ keep ‘em.”

  “Isaac?” Aaron’s voice brought Ike back to reality. “What’s wrong?”

  Ike was about to answer when the door flew open. The bosun loomed inside, his eyes locating Ike despite the gloom. “The Cap’n wants ye on deck. Move!”

  Aaron started to rise but Brennan glowered at him, “Not you.”

  “I won’t go without him!” Ike balked, retreating to stand beside Aaron. “Either we both go or we both stay.”

  For several seconds, Brennan impassively stared at them both as Ike helped Aaron to his feet. It took Ike by surprise when the bosun slapped Aaron away from him. He started to turn to see if Aaron was all right when the bosun snatched him by the back of his hair and dragged him out the door. Brennan tucked him casually in the crook of his arm while he locked Aaron in.

  “Now move!” He snarled then shoved Ike toward the hatch.

  Ike barely caught himself as he stumbled out onto the deck, the bright moonlight making him blink and shudder. He refused to look at any of the pirates, afraid to see them as they really were. Worse, he remembered the feeling of McSwain’s dead flesh touching him, using him, and he wanted to gag. He whirled suddenly and grabbed a pistol from the skinny pirate nearby. Aaron told him the man’s name was Roth and that he was the one who gave them what food they got.

  “Wait!” Roth yelped as Ike swung the gun up to put it under his chin. “Don’t do it, lad.”

  The chalky face made Ike’s stomach lurch and he fumbled backward until he felt the rail at his back. A glance down to the moonlit waters showed him the fins of sharks anticipating a meal. McSwain, standing on the quarterdeck, uttered a sharp bark of laughter.

  “Why are you laughing?” Ike shouted.

  McSwain shook his head. “Because, boy, you won’t do it an’ you an’ I know the reason why. Hell, I bet even the half-wit there knows. Don’t ye, Roth?”

  The buccaneer swung from McSwain back to Ike and he spoke softly. “Aaron.”

  Ike sighed heavily and threw t
he gun down. He truly had no choice. As soon as the gun was out of his hand, Benson and Crabbe seized him and bound his hands. Within a few minutes, they were loaded into a longboat and rowing strongly toward the mouth of the treasure cave.

  “In mere moments, men, we’ll no longer be cursed pirates, unable t’ slake our considerable lusts. In mere moments, we’ll be wealthy, livin’ pirates, able to drink, eat and fuck ‘til we find ourselves content. An’ since we’ll be so filthy rich, lads, we’ll be able t’ do it over an’ over again, eh?” McSwain hadn’t stopped smiling since they had launched and the sight caused Ike to shiver continuously. “Tomorrow we spend the day haulin’ the swag we put in the cave t’ the Maid t’ be divvied up then we sail fer Tortuga t’ find ourselves some good rum, some fine grub and some pleasurable company. What say ye?”

  “Aye!” The men roared but Ike noticed some of them eying himself at the “pleasurable company” part. He expected this was not going to be an easy trip for him.

  )O(

  For Angus, he would never forget the exact moment when the curse was lifted. Unlike when the curse was set upon them—and it took them hours, if not days, to understand what they had lost—he knew he’d been freed because, suddenly, he could smell the warm, dusky scent of the boy beside him, the sweet spark of the peach he carried in his pocket, and the dreadful aroma of the dozen unwashed pirates that surrounded them. As bad as the smell was, he decided he would never complain. He contemplated the bloody dagger in his hand briefly and the newly-restored coins that glinted red with the whelp’s blood then drew the peach out of his pocket, set his teeth to the firm skin and took a healthy bite. As the juice burst, sweet then sour by turns, into his mouth, his next thought was of Aaron Johnson waiting warm and willing or no back in his cabin.

  I suppose Aaron won’t appreciate me turning his precious Isaac over to the men for their sport, He mused, his gaze falling on Garcia who was watching the Stern whelp with very avid eyes. The things I do for that man.