The Sea's Rough Magic

by Alicia C Graybill

  The green eyes rolled heavenward briefly then, with a sigh, he spoke. "That is not the question. What concerns me is that he might do something inadvertent. All he must do is stay here until after the funeral. Once ‘Aaron Johnson’ is buried, we can tell him everything. Is the casket prepared to my specifications?"

  Rodney nodded, "Of course. I removed the nails from the bottom myself. Governor Robbins himself could nail the lid on and we'd still be able to replace Aaron's body with the deer carcass I have set aside. You're sure Aaron will be all right?"

  "Of course," Dunbar said rapidly, a bit too rapidly for Rodney's comfort. "It's just a matter of being patient."

  )O(

  "Aaron, Aaron, my Aaron," The voice was like a rusted gate as it drew the syllables of his name out to something menacing. "What are ye thinkin'?"

  "Shut up an' go away," Aaron tried to say but the words wouldn't leave his throat.

  McSwain laughed and Aaron attempted to jerk away when he felt the cold fingers brush his cheek. "Cat got yer tongue, eh? Won't be long now an' you'll be mine again. Mine t' play with like I used to. 'Member that time I branded ye? Took my ring an' held it in the candle flame till it glowed then pressed it t' yer neck. Remember hearin' the flesh sizzle? Cookin' meat, wasn't it?"

  Aaron was naked suddenly in the captain's cabin aboard the Maid, Angus pinned his head to the table and he could feel the agony of the hot gold searing into him. He remembered at the time pleading for mercy despite all his wishes otherwise. He hadn't wanted to give McSwain the satisfaction of forcing him to demonstrate his weakness. He was just grateful that neither James nor Ike had been there to see him at his lowest point.

  "'Course ye know they would never ha'e loved you had they seen ye like that, beggin' me t' let ye go, promisin' t' do anythin' I asked. Ye know why, too, don't ye, whelp? 'Cause they would've known that it was what you really wanted, wouldn't they? An' they would have been so disgusted by ye, they would have left ye t' me after that, hmmm?" McSwain's voice rang in his ears and he longed to escape.

  "No," He managed to say finally. "Not t-true!"

  The laugh that he hated rang out. "What's worse than a man who lies t' others? A man who lies t' himself! You, Aaron, canna even be honest with yerself, can ye?"

  Aaron tried to catch his breath to reply but he couldn't find any energy to pull air in. It was like the first time Angus had fucked him after Garcia's assault. The cold hands slid over his flesh as his clothing was pulled away. Teeth—menaced the back of his neck before seizing firmly the flesh covering his spine and sinking in. When the grotesque of a cock rammed up inside him, he cried out, a mewl like a kitten in distress. It was at that second that he heard another voice.

  "Just as I suspected," He managed to look up to see James glowering angrily at him. He reached out to the navy officer but his fingers fell just inches shy. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Answer me!"

  Aaron shook his head negatively and tried to speak again. He heard another voice behind him and turned slightly to see it was Ike who was raping him. "Ye're lying, Cap'n. You know this is what ye want. Ye want me t' take ye t' Tortuga an' take care o' ye jus' like ol' McSwain done. Admit it, Aaron, ye know this is what ye deserve, don't ye?"

  Without warning, Ike—or whoever the shadowy figure behind him was now—was wrapping a line around his neck, pulling it tighter so that he felt the darkness coming for him. Death would be a sweet release but he feared it was merely unconsciousness, from which he would awaken to more abuse. He tried to move his hands, to free himself, but nothing responded. He was grateful when it all slipped away.

  )O(

  "Aaron? Aaron, wake up! We've got t' leave now!!" Henry's voice was frantic but Aaron found it devilishly hard to open his eyes or sit up. Someone had given him something--a drug or a poison, he wasn't sure which. "Aaron, come on!"

  "Henry?" He managed to raise his head and suddenly Stern was there, lifting him to a sitting position. "Henry? What's goin' on?"

  The Lash lifted him to a standing position as Aaron realized they were on the Maid again. But I thought--James? Where? Aaron tried to take a step or two but his feet didn't seem to want to work. "We're docked in Tortuga, love. If we can get above deck, I can get ye away from here. Got a friend o' yers waitin', hmm?"

  "A friend?" Aaron racked his brain trying to recall who could possibly be his friend, especially after the mutiny. "Who?"

  "Never ye mind," Henry said, his warmth and strength under Aaron's arm nearly made him cry.

  "But I thought--the anchor!" Aaron whimpered and began to tremble remembering the sight of his matelot vanishing over the side of the ship. "How--?"

  "No time," The Lash replied. They stepped through the hatch of the wardroom door and were on the deck not of the Maid but of the Venture. Waiting for them was James, his eyes nearly panicked with concern.

  "We must hurry, gentlemen, please," James' rich voice was tight with worry. "I have a boat waiting, just climb over the rail."

  Aaron felt himself hoisted into the air by the Lash and then, without warning, he was falling, hard and fast, his fingers grasping clumsily at the air as he tried to stop himself. He hit the icy water below with a sharp cry, inhaling water more than air. He looked up to see McSwain above him, the quick blue eyes alight with mirth. He reached for McSwain, trying to gain the surface but he was shoved back under, an apple thrust into his outstretched hand. He looked for Henry, wondering where he was, when he felt a hand encircle his ankle. He tried to kick free but another hand seized his shin and he felt himself being dragged farther underwater. He turned to see who was dragging him down and realized it was Ike only he was dressed in Henry's clothes and secured to a broken anchor. When Ike met his eyes, the boy grinned wickedly.

  "Gotcha, love. We'll spend the rest of our lives together, won't we?"

  Aaron tried to fight, tried to pull away, hoping he could swim fast enough if he got loose, but someone struck him across the back of the head with what Aaron knew instinctively had to be an apple. He slumped into the skeletal arms clinging to him and let the ocean wash away his tears.

  )O(

  Chapter 27:

  Rites

  The next day dawned with bright sunshine and a gentle breeze from the east. It was one of the loveliest days in recent memory and James found it the worst of ironies that this was also the day for Aaron Johnson's funeral. James glanced over to see Ike was being supported by Rodney. The man-servant was speaking gently to him. Though Ike’s stoicism let nothing show on his face, his whole aspect was of a man whose hopes and dreams had died. The guilt made James’s chest ache. They stood in the graveyard adjacent to the church, watching the casket with the deer carcass inside lowered into the ground. James was grateful that Reverend Blunt was such a forgiving soul. Even though Aaron had neither attended a moment of services nor even met the man, Blunt was quite welcoming about letting him be buried here. James lowered his head thankfully and fought to control his emotions at the notion that Aaron might truly be gone. He shook himself and turned his mind away. It wasn't possible.

  He felt Chambers' hand on his shoulder and turned to look at the Lieutenant. The blue eyes were worried, nearly as worried as his own, and he granted the other officer a grim smile of encouragement. He glanced up to see that, aside from the Reverend, Ike, Chambers, Rodney and himself, there was no one here to witness the moment. As Reverend Blunt intoned the final "amen," he nodded to Ike, who bent down and grabbed a clod of dirt, breaking it up and tossing it onto the casket. Despite his own feelings toward Aaron, James had decided to let Ike perform that final act. He was the closest to family that Aaron had, after all.

  They didn't stay to watch the workmen fill the grave. James suspected it would have worn too greatly on his own nerves. When they were within the walls of his home, finally, Ike wasted no time talking with anyone. He retreated to his room and locked the door, which made James all the more appreciative that he wasn't witness to what happened next. James went to a door at the end of the
hallway--unused until now--and unlocked it. A serving maid's quarters, James had no need of the extra help. He stepped inside and let his eyes rest with relief on Aaron Johnson's preternaturally silent figure on the bed.

  "Raven, my love?" He could barely get the words out and approached the bed, kneeling beside it and taking Aaron's icy hand. "The danger's over, I swear it. You can come back to me now."

  When he received no response, he stroked Aaron's cheek with his knuckles. Bestowing a kiss upon Aaron's palm, he placed the hand back on the bed and rose. He had work to do. Rodney would come check on Aaron later to see if he had awakened. He would tolerate no more doubts that Aaron would come back to him. It had to be.

  )O(

  Later that evening, James knocked at Ike's door, feeling great relief that he could finally tell Stern that Aaron would be all right, yet slightly afraid to do so. He was inviting Ike to continue in his pursuit of Aaron's affections by letting him know the secret. He didn't know how the young man would react so as he waited for a response, he tried to prepare himself. As the minutes drew on, though, he began to suspect something was wrong. When another knock went unanswered, James tried the knob. It turned freely and James stepped into the room. The bed was neatly made and the room appeared unoccupied except for a piece of paper placed on the pillow. The handwriting was unsophisticated but legible. James picked it up and read it.

  Captain Dunbar,

  Without Aaron, I know I ain't welcome. I thank you for your making me welcome in your home while Aaron was alive. I gone to Tortuga to make my way in the world.

  Ike Stern

  James started to crumple the paper then thought better of it. If Aaron recovered, he would want to know where Ike was. Carefully, James folded the letter. As he closed the door on the room, he couldn't fight a shudder of foreboding. He hoped Ike would find some happiness in the world.

  )O(

  It was nearly midnight on the day after Aaron Johnson's funeral. Despite maintaining an optimistic though solemn air to everyone else, James suspected there was no hope after all. It hurt more than he could imagine and the guilt that he had been the one to do it made him incapable of eating. As a result, he was terribly drunk when he came to Aaron's bedside. James bit his lip as he waited to see if Aaron would awaken. He pressed his head to Aaron's chest to listen for his heartbeat but he heard nothing.

  "Aaron?" James lifted the hand in his own and began to rub gently at it. It was frighteningly chilled. "Please, my Raven, you must come back to me. How am I to go on if you aren't here for me? Open your eyes."

  There was no response. James drew a bracing breath and leaned over again to press his ear to the breast of his lover. He closed his eyes, willing the world and all its sounds away. There was only one sound he longed to hear, the thud of a beloved heart. He listened for what seemed an eternity. Perhaps it was or perhaps it simply wasn't long enough. He heard nothing.

  His first response was disbelief. This had to be an error. Aaron couldn't possibly be dead, could he? James leaped up from the bed and fumbled around on the top of the dresser until he found a shaving mirror. Aaron had to be breathing. Maybe James was having difficulty hearing Aaron's heartbeat for some reason but he would see his breath cloud the mirror, wouldn't he? Cautiously, his hands trembling wildly, he held the polished glass to Aaron's nose and waited, holding his own breath until his chest ached and his head swam. Breathe, damn you, James longed to shake Aaron awake but the naval officer in him had more control than that.

  "If this were a children's tale," James said as he drew Aaron into his arms. "All I would need would be to kiss you. True love and all that. But it's not and I--Dear God, don't take him from me now! It's just not fair!!"

  James realized he had shouted the last few words at the top of his lungs and shook his head, hoping no one heard him. If Aaron was gone, he wanted a final kiss. He cradled the back of Aaron's neck in his hand and pressed his lips to Aaron's. Like a line snapping, he felt something within him break loose. The sobs were uncontrollable and he found himself letting Aaron lay back and sprawling across him, his tears falling on the linen shirt. The last he remembered, he had the vague thought that he should return to his own bed but he just couldn't muster the energy.

  )O(

  He sat in a salon similar to the one in Dunbar's home, a cup of tea in his hand. When he raised the cup to take a drink, it smelled like rum and looked like rum but the taste was plain old China tea. He wasn't sure what to make of that. Worse, the tea seemed to satisfy him as much as rum did. He looked up to see McSwain enter the room in full pirate glory. McSwain carried a pistol in one hand and a bottle in the other. He began to wander about the room and smash various things, a small statue of a boy and his dog, a vase full of water and flowers, then a small painting of a fine lady. He glanced back at Aaron after that.

  "Have ye naught t' say, Miss Molly?" He took a swig of whatever was in the bottle then shook it in his direction. "Speak up!"

  "It's not real," Aaron finally answered though his voice sounded, to his own ears, at least, like James'. "None of it. Destroy what you like. Look, there's a new figurine."

  Angus turned and struck the tiny ceramic sailing ship with the butt of his pistol. "Seems real enough t' me. Sure ye ain't touched in the head?"

  Aaron shrugged. "So what if I am? It doesn't matter here. This world is all fancy and fog. It's the only place where you can't touch me and you can't hurt me if I won't let you. So I won't, not anymore, at least."

  "Bah!" Angus spun about and marched towards Aaron, passing easily through all the furniture that separated them. When he got within a foot or two of Aaron, he swung the butt of his pistol at him. Aaron fought his instinct to duck back and the pistol never touched him, as if it passed through him or he passed through it. McSwain drew back suddenly, glowering at the weapon then at Aaron. "What the blazes?!"

  "Care for a cup of tea?" Aaron asked him, setting his own tea aside and reaching to pour another cup for his guest. "Do you want poison with your tea?"

  "No, thank you, I'll take mine plain," James Dunbar was suddenly seated across from him where Angus had been moments before. "You do realize that I expect you back any moment now?"

  "Back?" Aaron asked, handing James the cup balanced on a delicate saucer. "Where did I go?"

  James smiled that tiny smile that made Aaron's heart ache. "It's difficult to explain. Once upon a time, there was a little mermaid."

  James' voice trailed off, muffled into silence. For a moment, Aaron strained to hear him then he grew aware that he was in total darkness. He could feel the deck of a ship moving beneath his feet, the slap and mutter of her sails in the wind telling him they were making good time. He felt a raindrop hit the back of his hand and wondered how he had ended up there.

  )O(

  When his eyes flickered open, he found it difficult to focus on anything. It was dark but it smelled of clean linen and jasmine. If this was hell, maybe he owed Satan an apology. After another moment or two, he realized it wasn't just the blanket that covered him that was keeping him warm. In the bed beside him was a body. A callused but well-groomed hand held his as an arm rested comfortably around his waist. He closed his eyes again and drew in several steady breaths, appreciating the wheeze of his lungs as the air flowed freely in and out. When he felt brave enough, he opened his eyes again and, with an effort, turned to look at the face. It was James Dunbar. Sound asleep, his handsome face was troubled, a single tear hanging on his cheek. Unsteadily, Aaron drew his hand out of James's grasp then trailed his fingers across the flesh to wipe the tear away. He managed to turn himself towards the navy officer who shared his bed and rested his face against James's naked chest. Hell or heaven didn't matter now. If James was beside him, nothing mattered.

  )O(

  James woke and the crushing sorrow hit him again. He'd killed Aaron, the only person he had truly loved. The temptation to put a pistol to his head and join Aaron was almost irresistible. It was at that point that he heard the sound, a soft,
purring snore. Opening his eyes, he glanced down at his chest, from where the sounds emanated. Aaron's forehead was pressed against his collarbone, warm moist air stirring the sprinkling of dark hair on his chest.

  James' heart suddenly began to beat wildly, pounding so hard in his chest that he feared it would escape. He pressed his face into the top of Aaron's head and moved one hand to Aaron's back, the other into the black hair at the back of his head. A soft protest from Aaron at the intensity of the embrace only served to make James smile.

  He became aware that Aaron was pushing against him weakly and he loosened his grip a little. Aaron's eyes opened and regarded him with a combination of exhaustion and exasperation. "Got t' let a man breathe, mate, savvy?"

  At the words, James grinned then caught Aaron's mouth in a kiss. "I savvy, love. My apologies."

  At that, Aaron smiled and returned to snoring. The relief that flooded through James was so encompassing that he drifted off after just a few seconds, even though he wanted nothing more than to enjoy the feeling of Aaron, alive and well, in his embrace.

  )O(

  Chapter 28:

  Confession

  It was several days before Aaron was able to rise from bed. It was James' fervent hope that the drug would leave no lasting damage but he couldn't be sure. At first, sitting up was almost too taxing for Aaron but he managed it. James didn't mention Ike Stern or his whereabouts, figuring that he would be able to address the matter when Aaron was ready. There were at least three times when he thought that Aaron would ask about the youth but he never did. As if he had completely erased the boy from his mind, Aaron seemed determined not to speak of him.