The Sea's Rough Magic

by Alicia C Graybill

  It didn’t take terribly long to arrive at James’s home. One of the most elaborate homes on the island, James could never have afforded it if it weren’t for the pension his father granted him. James stepped gracefully from the wagon then turned to offer Aaron a hand down. Johnson stared at the hand as if he’d never seen such a thing before. It was only when he seized the greatcoat to keep it from sliding off his shoulders that recognition dawned. When he remembered what had happened, Aaron’s face reddened and he laid his left hand into Dunbar’s.

  “My apologies, Captain,” Aaron muttered then removed the jacket and handed it back to Dunbar. “I didn’t mean nothin’.”

  James smiled ruefully at those words. “It’s quite all right. Captain Johnson, Mr. Stern, welcome to my humble home.”

  )O(

  Chapter 14:

  After Tea, Same Day

  The events of the morning had taken such a toll on Aaron that James insisted he take to bed for the rest of the day. He sent the marines back along with orders for one of them to fetch the doctor to come visit the two patients. Knowing that he had to report to Rear Admiral Mercer and Governor Robbins before much more time passed, he also knew that Aaron would be much more distressed by encounters with the servants and the physician if James wasn’t present. Finally, he sent Chambers to the fort to make his excuses for the delay and to let them know he would be there as soon as possible. As soon as possible turned out to be well after tea.

  He arrived at Mercer’s office feeling as though he’d forgotten something crucial. It was the type of harried sensation that made him hate the world. Lieutenant Rogers announced him and he stepped into the elegantly furnished room to see that both men were waiting.

  “My apologies, sirs,” James stood rigidly at attention. “I was helping to get Captain Johnson and Mr. Stern settled.”

  “Perfectly understandable, my boy,” Robbins sounded jovial enough but James didn’t accept anything about the Governor at face value. “After all, what else have the two most powerful men on this island to do? Other than wait all day for you to report, eh?”

  James lowered his head guiltily. “I do apologize again, Governor. If there had been any other way, I would have reported sooner. Captain Johnson, however, is unwell and seems to have attached himself to me at the moment in matters regarding his personal safety.”

  At the words, Governor Robbins shook his head and made a disgusted sound. Mercer interrupted.

  “Lieutenant Chambers gave me a briefing earlier this afternoon. It sounds like things went well enough. I heard that the leader of the mutineers refused to surrender,” James couldn’t meet Mercer’s eyes because of the way it made him feel.

  “Yes, sir. Captain McSwain was the man’s name. I believe he once commanded the Nighthawk before the French sank her,” James launched into the story of the encounter and their subsequent return voyage, leaving out any details involving Aaron. When he finished, Robbins leaned over to Mercer and muttered something to him that James couldn’t quite catch. Mercer sighed heavily.

  “So, Dunbar, what about these two guests of yours?” Mercer asked abruptly.

  James frowned then drew himself up. “What about them, sir?”

  “Would either of them be able to testify in regard to these pirates?” Robbins answered, standing to pace around the room. “One of them is the captain they mutinied against, is he not?”

  “Yes, sir,” James tried, unsuccessfully, to picture Aaron entering a packed courtroom let alone testifying. “Captain Johnson owns-owned the Saucy Maid. He suffers from some difficulties, though. Mentally, he is not—They kept him captive for several years, Governor, and did unspeakable things to him. It’s a miracle that he survived but he is in no condition to bear witness.”

  “Then the boy. What about him?” Mercer was gazing at James with an expression that made him distinctly uncomfortable.

  “I’ll be happy to discuss it with him,” James nodded. “He suffered a flogging at the hands of those villains but he’s in much better condition. He will probably be eager to assist us.”

  “Do you feel willing to talk about your time with them?” Mercer was studying his fingernails when he asked. “It would no longer be a secret.”

  James hesitated. But if I testify, they will have no need of Aaron. “To speak plainly, sir, I am uncertain as to the benefit of my own testimony in the case but I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring these men to justice.”

  “Well then,” Robbins blustered. “I’ll leave you two to discuss naval matters. Good day, gentlemen.”

  Mercer waited until Robbins was gone before he did anything. At that point, he brought out a bottle of whiskey and a pair of glasses. He poured them each a drink and handed one to James. He waited until James had his half gone before he spoke.

  “Off the record, Dunbar, you went to a great deal of effort to keep the events from five years ago from public knowledge. What is so important to you that you would be willing to dredge up all that unpleasantness?” Mercer gave him a look and James had to swallow hard.

  “I- The course of justice, sir,” James started but Mercer shook his head.

  “Do not take up gambling, my good man. Your face is remarkably easy to read,” Mercer downed his whiskey and poured himself another. “It’s that Johnson, isn’t it? Surely not the boy. You’ve developed feelings for him, I suppose.”

  “Feelings, sir?”

  Mercer sighed heavily. “A man does not attain the admiralty without knowing something of human nature, particularly the nature of sailors and other men of the sea. I have known men in my time who enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh with other men but I don’t believe that is the case here—or at least not entirely. These feelings you have—does he return them?”

  It took James several seconds, and the remainder of the whiskey in his glass, before he was prepared to answer. “I don’t know. I do have feelings for the man, God help me. I want to protect him and spend the rest of my life with him. Foolish, I know, but he-he was the reason I devoted myself to my career. I lost him five years ago and could only hope that I would find him someday.”

  “Dammit, James,” Mercer threw himself into a comfortable chair. “You’ve put me in a most awkward position. You’re the best officer I’ve got but you’ve admitted yourself to being a homophile. You’re damnably lucky that I’m here.”

  “Sir?” James answered, feeling at once horrified that his career, his reputation and his life were on the line and curious about Mercer’s last statement.

  “I knew a midshipman once,” Mercer began, not meeting James’s eyes. “A very good sailor who might have become a competent officer. He-Well, let’s just say he experienced feelings for another midshipman that were considered ill-advised. The other midshipman enjoyed his attentions but did not return his affection. When the two were caught one night by the First Lieutenant in the midst of an indecent act, our midshipman insisted that he was the one who had forced the situation. The other midshipman went along with his story even though he was just as willing. But our midshipman went on trial, was drummed out of the service, and hanged for sodomy and rape. The other midshipman—well, he was transferred to another posting and given a second chance as he was the ‘victim.’”

  James’s knees shook and he claimed the other comfortable chair abruptly. After a moment, he spoke. “Were-Were you that midshipman, sir?”

  Mercer finally met his gaze. “Does it really matter? The damage is done. You cannot destroy your career, James, over this-this ‘situation.’ I recommend you get that pirate and the boy out of your home as quickly and quietly as possible then find yourself a beautiful young woman to marry. That’s the only way to silence the gossip-mongers and to restore your reputation. If you have any ambition left, man, do what I tell you. To be quite frank, the scene this morning quayside did not go unnoticed.”

  James took several deep breaths, recognizing the truth in what Mercer was saying, but the agony that hit him at the thought of sending Aaron away
prevented him from even considering it. Finally, willing himself to stay composed, James rose and straightened his uniform. “Thank you, sir, for your advice. I will seriously take your words into account. I have no desire to ruin my career over this current predicament. Christian charity, however, demands that I let Captain Johnson and Mr. Stern stay in my home until they are both well enough to leave. Neither of them wants to be beholden to anyone so I cannot expect they will wish to stay beyond what is necessary. As for my matrimonial status, you know as well as I, sir, that my last fiancée left me mere days before the ceremony. It does take time for a broken heart to mend, sir.”

  Mercer scowled but the visage softened when he saw the sincerity in James’s eyes. “Very well, Dunbar. Just bear in mind what I’ve told you. It takes more than rumors to bring a man down but not much more. You’re dismissed, Captain.”

  James nodded then left the room. Once outside, in the cool evening air, he let himself breathe free. Follow my heart and I lose my life; follow Mercer’s advice and I lose my heart. Love is truly harsh as a raven’s call. He set himself then began the walk from the fort to his home. At the moment, all he wanted was to see those bewitching blue eyes again.

  )O(

  Aaron woke when he heard the sound of footsteps. He concentrated on breathing deeply and evenly to stop his heart from pounding so loudly in his ears. It was dark outside the window—window? Oh, yes, that was right. They weren’t on the Maid anymore. He was in a bedroom at Captain Dunbar’s home. It was night-time but someone was pacing the hall outside his door. A guard? Aaron shivered and felt ill. Had he merely traded one prison for another? He was about to rise, to go in search of something to drink, when he heard the handle on the door turning. The sound paralyzed him and he could do nothing more than bury his face in the blankets that lay over him.

  “Captain Johnson?” It was James, his voice soft and questioning. “Captain, are you all right?”

  Aaron tried to speak but his throat wouldn’t cooperate. He managed to get out something that sounded like a whimper and Dunbar approached worriedly. An attempt to draw a breath caused him to cough, the sound harsh and echoing in the darkness. He felt the long-fingered hands, cool but blessedly human, stroke through his hair then. When one of the hands covered his own, revealing how hard he was shaking, James Dunbar pulled him upright. It didn’t help to ease the pain of the spasms that ripped through his chest.

  “The physician gave us some medicine, Aaron. He said it should help these fits,” James muttered.

  Dunbar’s arm about him was his only way to stay upright. He could feel James fumbling at the bottles on the night-table until he found the one he wanted. It was a powder that James mixed a spoonful of into the cup of water. When Aaron could finally draw a breath, he raised the cup to his lips and gave him a drink. The taste was almost too sweet for Aaron but he drank it down anyway. When James set the cup aside, Aaron was breathing rapidly and shallowly.

  “Better?” Dunbar shifted position and began to rub Aaron’s back.

  Aaron longed to let himself just rest against Dunbar. He was so tired and so frightened. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone, not even the man who was decent to him and as good as his word. He pulled away after a moment, shaking his head negatively. He tried to speak again.

  “P-Please don’t,” He managed to murmur.

  James’s eyes widened and he sat back. “Don’t touch you? My apologies, Captain, I just wanted to help.”

  “Appreciate it but--,” Aaron couldn’t continue as it suddenly hurt too much to draw any air.

  “I understand,” James said with a look that made Aaron feel ashamed. “I presumed too much. I’ll leave you now, if you wish.”

  He started to rise but Aaron couldn’t let him leave. He grabbed James’s hand in his. “No, stay.”

  He looked up into Dunbar’s eyes and hoped the naval officer could understand what was going on. For a moment, James regarded him with confused eyes. Then, with a comforting smile, James drew the chair that the physician had used earlier close and sat down. Aaron lay back on the bed and sighed. He wasn’t sure if he could sleep but he felt more at ease with James watching over him.

  Aaron woke the next morning feeling better than he had in years. He glanced around to see that James was gone but some fresh baked scones with butter, a bunch of deep purple grapes, and a large tankard of what turned out to be orange juice sat on the chair. A note on the tray was addressed to him.

  Captain Johnson,

  Forgive me for deserting you but I do have duties to attend to. If you need anything, feel free to ring the bell on your bedside table. One of the servants will be happy to help you.

  Don’t forget to take your medicine.

  James Dunbar

  Aaron reread the note a dozen times before he could convince himself that it meant nothing. It was ridiculous to think that James Dunbar, upright citizen and honorable Navy officer that he was, would have any regard for a former pirate at all. Still, as he was eating the food provided for him, he kept the note in hand and occasionally used one finger to trace the graceful but firm handwriting. When he could eat no more, he mixed the peppermint powder with another cup of water and drank it down. The effort took a great deal out of him and he found himself dozing off while sitting up. He made himself comfortable in the bed again and, with the note tucked under his pillow, went back to sleep.

  To his pleasant surprise, McSwain didn’t appear in his dreams at all. Instead, James Dunbar was there with those gentle green eyes and that reassuring presence. Still, it wasn’t comforting. Something dark and sinister lurked at the edges of his dream and, when he woke, he had to wipe his face of tears and sweat.

  )O(

  Chapter 15:

  Mid-September 1718

  A fortnight had passed. Near daily meetings with the physician had Aaron feeling much more comfortable with the man. Isaac’s injuries were healing nicely and the physician had been very pleased at that. He was less pleased about Aaron’s condition.

  “You’re doing yourself no favors, my friend,” He was a tall, slender man with a surprisingly strong grip. A slightly out-of-fashion gray wig perched on his bald head—a fact that Aaron noticed when Dr. Hudson used the mistreated hair-piece to wipe the sweat from his brow.

  Aaron sat in the chair as he struggled to breathe. The witty retort he had started to make to Hudson’s remarks died in his throat as the hacking cough put a bright red stain of blood on the cotton kerchief he carried.

  “May I see that?” Dr. Hudson held out his hand for the kerchief. Aaron flinched away at the movement then surrendered the scrap of cloth.

  He became aware that Hudson was examining the blood with some interest. After a moment, he gave the cloth back. “Not consumption nor the cancer. Pleuropneumony then, I suppose. As long as you keep clearing your lungs, we won’t bleed you but tell the Captain to send for me immediately should you develop a fever.”

  Aaron nodded, knowing full well he would do no such thing. “Aye, we will.”

  “Very good,” Hudson answered, eyeing Aaron with some skepticism. “You’ve been taking the tincture?”

  Aaron nodded. “Stuff’s vile, ye know.”

  Hudson nodded gravely. “And the powder?”

  Aaron sighed and nodded. After a moment, Hudson reached for him. Aaron, unprepared, knocked over the chair in his haste to retreat from the doctor’s hand. He heard Hudson sigh theatrically then felt him matter-of-factly take his wrist to check his pulse. When Aaron looked up at Hudson, the doctor’s face revealed concern and a bit of impatience.

  “Captain Johnson, you need to take these reactions of yours in hand. I am no pirate nor am I, shall we say, ‘interested’ in you except as my patient. I have provided you with laudanum and with that infusion of valerian and pennyroyal. Both will help to ease this melancholy of yours. Have you taken the infusion today?”

  Aaron shook his head. “Hurts me stomach.”

  Dr. Hudson scowled. “The laudanum then.�
��

  “Good rum ruint!” Aaron snapped, restoring himself and the chair to upright positions finally. “I should be dead an’ we both know it.”

  Hudson kept quiet until Aaron looked up at him. “Perhaps. Certainly, your survival is still in no way assured, unlike Ike’s. I believe, however, that Our Lord and Creator must have plans for you. That’s why you are still among the living. If you refuse to take the medicines I’ve provided you, there is precious little I can do about it. I will say, however, that my patients who take their medicine and get plenty of fresh air tend to recover. Those who don’t, well . . .”

  Aaron glowered at him then looked away. Dr. Hudson turned back to the bed where he’d laid out his tools and packed them swiftly away. When he shut the case he carried crisply, he turned back to Aaron. “If all goes as indicated, Ike should be up and about in a week or two. He’s young, strong, and cooperative. You, sir, are not. Your prognosis remains uncertain. I won’t be back until next week. If either of you run out of your medicine, send a servant to fetch more. Good day, Captain.”

  “G’ day,” Aaron managed to mutter as Hudson let himself out. The second the door shut, Aaron thrust his tongue out petulantly. He knew what he needed even better than that damned doctor did. He needed some good rum and a nice, long nap. Dunbar didn’t have any of the stuff in the house, though.

  Suppose I could ask that Rodney to get me a bottle, Aaron mused then remembered he had no swag to purchase anything. He highly doubted that he could convince the man to steal a bottle for him and he didn’t want to ask anything more of Dunbar. As it was, he felt enormously obligated to the man. Besides, he didn’t like the man-servant much and trusted him even less. There was just something about the look of him that bothered Aaron more than he cared to admit.

  He had only met Dunbar’s cook and housemaid once. Rosemarie was her name and she was the first woman Aaron had seen in years. It was damned uncomfortable for him. Not that she roused any indecent feelings within him—he feared nothing would ever do that again—but he was adrift as to how to treat her. A woman—no, Aaron decided, a lady—yet a servant. Legally, as James’s guest, he was above her in station. Morally, however, he felt as though he wasn’t worthy to lick the sole of her shoe. He couldn’t bear to meet her gaze as he was horrified at the thought of what judgment awaited him.