I resisted any temptation to say, “But you’re beautiful, too.”
His story guttered out into bitter tears of grief, because Viola had almost certainly met her death in that wreck, and he knew that, no matter how much he was determined to keep looking for her. I tried to keep his spirits up, yet still didn’t hold out much hope that we’d find her again.
“If you won’t do something daft like murder me for my devotion, let me be your servant.” I wasn’t sure I actually meant to speak the words rather than just think them, but my treacherous tongue had run before me. I was just glad Soames wasn’t there to hear me, and not just because I was a bit flowery—Sebastian’s style of speech, fit for the court, was catching. Soames would have thought I’d lost my mind, the captain of the ship abasing himself like the lowest powder monkey.
I was so busy thinking of Soames, I’m not sure I really heard most of Sebastian’s answer, until the final bit brought me up with a round turn.
“I am bound to Count Orsino’s court and I’m determined to walk there alone.” He held out his hand for me to shake. “I do thank you for all your help—I will always be in your debt.” And then, not even waiting for me to make that handshake, he was off and away along the road at a canter. I should have known then that he was a flighty colt.
Orsino’s court? To go there would be certain death, for both of us. I watched him walk off—fifty yards away while I stood stock still—his frock coat swirling at his back like a dog’s tail. An angry, frightened dog. I beat myself to quarters and started to follow. How could I not go as well?
Act one, scene three
By the time we’d reached what passed for civilisation in those parts, Sebastian had stopped trying to fob me off. Instead, he’d taken to thanking me for my kindness and I kept thanking my luck for having come across him. He asked me about my travels, and I was delighted to spin him a yarn or two, although I avoided tales of my privateering days. I was certain, given what family he came from, that he was no friend to the Count, but I couldn’t be sure I hadn’t fallen foul of his own kin at some point in my highly colourful career.
“You’ve seen so much of the world.” Sebastian stopped, looking about him as if seeing the landscape for the first time. “I feel like I’ve gone through life with my eyes closed. Viola was always the adventurous one. I had my nose stuck in a book, too often. I wish I’d had the nerve to go to sea or take to the air.”
“Keep moving. It’s not the weather for standing still and thinking philosophically,” I said, taking his arm and getting us walking again. “And take my word for it that being a young lad aboard a ship—sea or sky—isn’t all the fun it’s cracked up to be.”
Shame, though. I’d have had him as one of my junior officers as soon as look at him. It’d be a real pleasure to have that face to admire on the long journey along the Spice Trail, even though it would come with the disadvantage that I’d never get to bed him. Don’t mess on your own doorstep, they’ve always been my watchwords. Not that I had any great hopes of getting him into my bed, that inkling I’d got about the lad notwithstanding. If he was that way inclined, Sebastian could have his pick of men, with his looks and his breeding. What would he see—beyond companionship—in a frosty old air-dog, a good ten years, and the rest, his senior?
“Being at court isn’t all the fun they pretend it is.” He said, cutting into my thoughts with one of his rare, dazzling smiles, all dark flashing eyes and rosy lips. No wonder they called his sister beautiful if she resembled him. “You’re expected to drink in the politics and protocol with your mother’s milk, but I’ve never grasped them. They think me naïve and inconstant.”
I had to hide my smile. He’d described himself perfectly. “We’ll be needing all our diplomacy skills if we fetch up at Count Orsino’s.” He’d favoured me with a secret, so I returned the compliment. “I’ve blotted my copybook here, and they’ll not welcome me with open arms. Anywhere other than the jail.”
I told him the story of the Tiger as we walked on.
As I reached the end, Sebastian halted, grabbing my arm. “Your coming with me is madness. My family is no friend to Orsino’s, but I don’t think I risk my neck by throwing myself on his mercy for my sister’s sake. Not like you do.” His cheeks flushed with either high emotion or the raw wind. “I can’t repay your kindness by drawing you into danger. Why should you put yourself in such peril?”
Aye, that was the question. Hadn’t I asked it of myself a dozen times a day since we’d set down to rescue him? And despite how many times I’d asked it, I’m not sure I had a proper answer; not one that made sense either in my head or out of it. Certainly not one I could tell Sebastian, not yet. “I’ve always had a fondness for looking after waifs and strays,” I said, hoping he’d just laugh and start walking again.
“Ah, but there’s a world of difference between charity and recklessness. I wouldn’t want you on my conscience. If anything happened.” He took my arm: I’d have followed him to the ends of the earth at that moment, just so long as we stayed linked like that.
“I can look after myself, lad.” I could barely get my words out. Me, used to barking orders and having them obeyed without argument, now sounding like some tongue-tied lass. “I’ve plans of my own. Trust me.”
He looked at me, nodded, then we carried on our journey, in silence. I was glad of that; I wasn’t sure I trusted my tongue not to say stupid things like, “I love you, lad. Let’s turn around right now and find ourselves a ship that’s heading somewhere else. I’ll look after you.”
Sebastian was the one who eventually broke the quiet and his voice was so low I had to ask him to repeat himself. “I said that I’m sorry I tried to shake you off, earlier. I didn’t mean to be so rude, not when you’ve helped so much.”
“Don’t fret. You’ve had a lot to worry over.” I put my arm around his shoulder; he didn’t shrug it off. We walked on, huddled against the cold. I wouldn’t have minded a storm blowing in from the nor’east if it meant I could keep him close to me. I thought to ask him about his childhood but reckoned that would be sailing too close to the wind. Instead I let him pick my memories again, telling him tales of the sea and the air like I’d regale a child. In the end he seemed almost happy, although I’m not sure how much of that was putting on a brave face for my sake.
I simply kept hoping a lot of the things he did were for me.
Act one, scene four
Just at the point the light was going, we came across a nice enough looking inn, about a day’s walk from Orsino’s estate, so we decided to put up for the night. I had plenty of money in my pocket, so we could be choosy, although in those parts there wasn’t a lot of choice to be had. We could have had a room each, there being space and money to spare, but the lad wouldn’t have it. He said he needed the company as his dreams were all disturbed. I knew that was true, as he’d said it before, although I suspected the story was more for the inn-keeper’s benefit at that point than mine.
Again, I tried to be considerate, not watching him while he stripped his jacket and britches, although the glimpses I accidentally caught in the mirror took my breath away. He had a fine, lean frame and I’d have given half my kingdom to kiss his bruises better.
With that disturbing, tempting, memory in mind, I made sure I kept to my side of the bed while we went to sleep, but the lamp hadn’t been out above five minutes when he turned towards me and into my waiting arm, curling into my embrace so sweet and tender, more like a trusting child than a lover.
And I held him like a child, at first, because I couldn’t be sure if he only wanted comfort; maybe the memories of his sister had come flooding back and left him sad. If I’d been able to conjure her up right there and then I would have done, if only to make him happy. I’d have been content to share him with her, heart and soul. I’d filled my mind with thoughts of them reunited, living together as bachelor and old maid and me having stewardship of their estate. Not as good as me having stewardship of Sebastian’s bed, but I’d
have settled for anything that let me serve him.
He was the one who opened the engagement, if you get my drift. Just a bit of fondling my arm to start with and then a kiss on my cheek. So light that I wasn’t sure at first that it was anything more than an accidental contact, nothing meant by it. The second kiss showed he was in earnest—smack on my lips, no mistaking what he wanted. I must have given myself away good and proper for him to have come on so, knowing I wasn’t going to black his eye for trying it on.
I hadn’t realised I’d been so bloody obvious, but I suppose he’d have had to be blind not to notice something in the way I looked at him or realise why I was dogging his steps. I just hoped he really liked me and it wasn’t simply a case of any port in the proverbial storm. They can be a funny lot in these foreign parts and you never know what passed for custom around where Sebastian came from.
Of course I responded to him, though not too much at first because I didn’t want him to see just how eager I was. A man’s got to retain some sort of pride. But once he’d got the idea I was interested, there was no stopping him. I swear that moment, the one when I was certain sure we were going the whole route, was like Christmas and birthdays, and getting the biggest load of spices and silk home in one piece, all come at once.
That first proper kiss had been as sweet as any I’ve ever had. In my younger days I used to kiss the maids, before I saw the error of my ways and found out what made my capstan turn. He kissed like they’d done. Soft and shy. Maybe he’d seen his sister with one of her swains and copied her, first time around, then carried on the practice. I can’t imagine anyone on the receiving end complaining.
He knew what he was about—he’d been along these channels before. That pleased me, because I don’t ever like to think I’m acting as pilot for some innocent who’s going to end up getting upset or frightened in uncharted territory. That in itself would have been enough to stay my hand with Sebastian, although I shouldn’t have worried. It turned out he’d got enough skill and experience to make it sweet, and to remember to keep nice and quiet while he was about it.
Making love in an inn by candlelight; that made me feel like a midshipman again. Captains have their privileges; a big room, a big cot bed and someone to warm the sheets without anyone stopping you having any of them is one privilege I appreciate. Captain’s word is law, especially when it applies to his cabin. But this was different, with not just the thrill of making the first moves in the engagement but the added frisson of having to take care so that we didn’t have the innkeeper banging on the door or calling the guard out to haul us away.
“Easy, Sebastian,” I remember saying at one point, when he’d got me on my back and was charting a course down my chest. “We don’t want to touch down at our home port before we’ve played the expedition out.”
He seemed amused by my prose, laughing and kissing me on the lips again. “You’ve a funny way with words, Antonio. Don’t ever lose it.”
I lost the ability to say anything at all, funny or not, when he started making a chart of my body again. Although I wasn’t sure what he wanted to do at the end of his voyage of discovery—you can’t assume that everyone else has exactly the same tastes as you, even if both of you run against the grain.
There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Or bring a man to the height of ecstasy. Still, we worked it out between us and by good fortune what I preferred fitted, if you’ll excuse the pun, with what he liked.
Sebastian fell asleep soon afterwards, exhausted from our sport and still bearing the wearying effects of grief. I held him close, watching him by the meagre moonlight, too happy for sleep to claim me for a while. He’d surprised me yet again, taking such control of the engagement, not like some of the young men I’d had the benefit of taking to my cabin. How many of them hadn’t been able to forget my rank, even though I’d always been careful not to choose one who’d ever been on my muster? You can tire of all that “Yes sir, no sir”. Deferring too much takes almost all the pleasure away. Sebastian had always treated me like an equal, despite all his earlier words about being in my debt. It didn’t occur to me at the time that this outpouring of affection might just have been a case of him having thought of a way to repay me and close the account.
I thought about that notion plenty of times afterwards.
Act two scene one
Next morning, I worried that Sebastian would be ashamed of what we’d done; it’s easy enough to regret in the cold light of day what you’d decided was right in the warm dark of night. But he’d no sooner woken than he was giving me a big hug and a smile. I hardly remember a thing about breakfast or washing and dressing, I must have been that happy.
The one thing that sticks out in my memory was him giving me a huge kiss before we left. “To wish us success on the road,” as he called it, and I returned in kind, “One more for luck”. Old sailor that I was, I should have known better, being too pleased with myself and spitting in the eye of fate. I should have been grateful for small mercies and not wanted more, but hubris won’t listen to reason.
When we got within reach of Orsino’s court, Sebastian was like a big child, smiling and excited. Maybe he really did believe we’d just knock on the door and his sister would answer, or maybe that night in my bed cheered him up. Whatever the cause, I was glad to see him optimistic again. He even fancied a bit of sightseeing, but I wanted to keep my head down, given that my scar didn’t exactly make me inconspicuous.
I reminded him about my days as a privateer and why I was persona non grata in these parts. He was all concern then, advising me not to walk about openly. As if I needed such advice: I’d been twice around the world as a cabin boy before Sebastian had even been born. It was touching, though, when he put his arm round me and kissed my cheek, like a son might do, even though I’d have had to have whelped young to have been his sire. Still, it doesn’t do to show too much affection in public, so I distracted him with the gift of my purse.
“What’s this for?” He eyed it warily, like he thought I was paying him off, maybe for the services he’d rendered.
“I thought you might want to treat yourself to something. A good luck charm, maybe. You must have lost a wealth of things when your ship fell to earth.” That wasn’t well put, seeing as it would have reminded him of his sister, but he didn’t seem to notice my clumsiness with words. “I’ll go and find us digs at the Elephant. I’ve heard it keeps a good table and clean beds.”
“You swear you’ll keep your head down?”
“I will.” I made the promise, although if I’d known what was going to happen next, I’d have said to hell with the risk and gone with him every step of his way.
Hindsight, eh?
Act two scene two
It was a woman caused the problem, of course. Two women, this time, to make it doubly complicated, and I was the one who ran into them first. I didn’t even realise one of them was a woman—so add short-sightedness or senility to the irony of the situation. Fate was trying to mock me.
I’d put our dunnage, such as it was, at the Elephant and I’d decided to take the air, in spite of my promise to Sebastian and thoughts for my own safety. How could I stay in the room looking at the double bed, and not think of what he and I could be getting up to in it? So, I took a walk, keeping myself to myself and thinking, until I found that I’d wandered too far and lost my bearings.
There was an old couple working a little plot of land where I’d fetched up, so naturally I asked them where I was. They said I was down by the Lady Olivia’s house—she’s the first woman in the case. If I’d known then that Count Orsino was sweet on her I’d have stirred my stumps somewhere else, just in case he was lurking close by. But the old folks didn’t mention that; they just said she was a kindly woman, in mourning for her brother, and she’d not begrudge a man in uniform the pleasure of walking through her demesne. I couldn’t see the harm in it, either—shame I can’t make such good judgements on land as I do in the air.
I’ve often wondere
d since then what would have happened if I’d sat tight at the inn. Maybe things would have resolved themselves without me knowing anything about it. My lad would have come straight back to me with a strange tale to tell and I’d have been saved a barrel of heartache. Although maybe it would have turned for the worst and I’d have just found myself high and dry. You can’t try to double guess fate.
Anyway, imagine my shock, rounding a corner of a pleasant avenue of cypresses, to see Sebastian there, in the Lady Olivia’s garden. And getting himself into mischief by the look of it. He had his sword drawn against a great long streak of a thing, more scarecrow than man. I’d have bet my lad against him any day in a straight fight, but looks can be deceptive, and I didn’t want Sebastian risking his pretty neck. Especially when things have the potential to turn nasty and swords find themselves replaced by a pistol some devious person happens to draw from under his coat.
“Stop that right there or else you’ll have me to answer to.” I drew my own blade, with a flourish.
The long streak’s fat friend, who looked like he could take care of himself in a fair fight despite the fact he also looked three quarters gone on drink, challenged me. At least I think he did, given that what he actually said was, “You sir? Why, what are you
Now, I was handy enough at translating the local language, but these nobles talk so fancy that even if you get the words, they still make no sense.
“What am I? What am I?” My blood was boiling by then, at being babbled at and at seeing my lad so abused, and I spoke a bit freer than I normally would, although I hoped Sebastian would note my words. “One, sir, that for this lad’s love dares do more than you’ve heard him brag he will.” See, I can’t just speak the language, I can put on a bit of the court argot, if I want to.
Love in Every Season Page 16