Flames of Desire

by Vanessa Royall

  And yet, she thought, too, where had this led? This Campbell rapacity and headstrong valor? Already he was a pirate, an outlaw. And what next? A man of incomparable bravery, many gifts, great strength: the world had already cast him outside the pale, and she was there with him.

  “I must go back up to the bridge soon,” he was telling her. “Fligh has been nervous and troubled lately. I’d best have a talk with him. But now…”

  “Whatever happened to that puppy? The one you brought back?”

  “Ah, yes. The final part, the omen. The wolf cannot be domesticated, of course, but it is also true that a puppy of a few weeks, suddenly robbed of its parents, will form an attachment or bond with a human, if that human takes him, cares for him, nurses him. And this I did. For one year after the time of my proving, I cared for that wolf until he became large and strong enough to go back into the Highlands on his own. And on the day of the omen reading, I opened the gate of his kennel and stood aside.”

  “But don’t they all run away? Isn’t it in the blood?”

  “So men say, but it is not always true. Many times the animal cowers in terror of freedom, just as men do, and that is the evil omen. A bad death will come to the boy who has captured such an animal.”

  “And yours?” Again, she felt the presence of dread.

  But Royce smiled. “My wolf left,” he said. “He looked for a moment at the open gate, then at me, and then at the Highlands beyond. There was something in his eyes, almost like human language. Not gratitude, not at all, nor even surprise. It was a thing much like respect, like a nod between two honest men who understand each other’s natures. Unyielding but not vicious. Then he left, not looking back. As those same men might part. It was like the dosing of a contract, whose terms have been met. Our responsibilities to each other were concluded.”

  He fell silent, eyes half-closed, thinking. Selena wondered if there existed between Royce and herself some kind of unspoken contract. Was the bond of the flesh enough to imply the presence of a deeper union? And what of marriage?

  “Sometimes when I return to Kincardine and ride out into the hills, I think he is still there. Watching me. It’s absurd, after all these years. But not impossible. But the feeling is so…”

  “But now that you’re an…outlaw, doesn’t it hurt not to be able to return?”

  “No,” Royce Campbell said. “Because he is there with me. He is there for me, in spirit if not in flesh. Drinking blood, I became God, and roam the universe. He is my son, upon the earth of Scotland, and our hearts beat as one.”

  They made love one last time, made love as Selena had vaguely heard, uncertainly imagined it could be made, and which was called forbidden on all the fearful pulpits of Europe. Or perhaps the priests wished to keep it as a treasure, shored up for themselves, this sweet, lingering speech of the flesh in which Royce Campbell gave her long, aching instruction. For it was more than a treasure, it was transcendence. It was transport to a strange new world, and unimaginably soft ripples washed again and again and forever upon the walls of her soul, until blood as well as flesh found tongue. Tender waves spread upon the horizons of her lidded eyes, driven gently by her cry, and proudly they rocked the easy boats that lay embanked in touchless time.

  The salt taste of him was as welcome as the world.

  Part Two

  India, 1775

  Nadir

  Royce pulled on his greatcoat, against the chill of the deck at night, and bent to kiss her.

  “Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered, “because when I return we’ll…”

  A sudden, tremendous sound rattled the ship, the painful crash of rended wood. Selena barely had time to pull the leopard skin about her, when the battering ram knocked the savaged cabin door from its iron hinges. Fligh leaped in, brandishing a blunderbuss. Six grim-looking crewmen dropped the ram and flicked swords in the air.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to delay your plans,” Fligh told Royce. He was nervous and obviously unhappy, but quite determined. “You’ve delayed ours, with the wench here.” He indicated Selena with the barrel of his huge pistol. “And I see she’s resplendent in her usual attire.”

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Royce demanded, taking a step toward his lieutenant. “You can’t…”

  Fligh’s arm went up. The gun barrel was dead level. His body stiffened.

  “Too many things are going wrong,” he said. “We didn’t contract for a pleasure cruise, or to shepherd you and the MacPherson bitch on a lay ride all over the hemisphere.”

  “Shut up, or you’ll…”

  “I’ll do nothin’ o’ the kind, whatever it is. Nay, sorry, Captain. Ye’re a good man when ye’re mind’s on business, but when it’s on this piece of woman, ye’re quite another thing.”

  The other men nodded grimly. Some of them gulped and swallowed and looked away. But they stood firm.

  Royce measured the situation. Mutiny. But why?

  “Now, Fligh, you and I have always been able to bargain before.”

  But Fligh was beyond bargaining this time, and when Selena took a good long look at him, saw him lick his lips over and over, she saw that he was scared of a great deal more than Royce Campbell. Royce noted it, too.

  “You and the crew know the fate of mutineers, do you not?” He was unafraid, but not imprudent enough to charge a blunderbuss and six naked cutlasses.

  “I’d hardly call it mutiny,” Fligh shot back, “to try an’ save yer neck when the captain’s mistress brings a sick man on the ship. An’ when he permits it.”

  “A sick man? You mean that sailor down in sick bay who was flogged aboard the Meridian?”

  Slyde, Selena thought, shuddering. The ratbite. Rabies.

  Royce came to the same conclusion as soon as she blurted out what had happened to the man in the hold, with the big rat chewing tatters of his flesh.

  “That’s no problem, Fligh. Don’t you know anything about medicine? Certainly, if he’s got rabies, well, the man’s doomed, and there’s nothing we can do. Just keep him locked up and…”

  “Aye, but I doot ’tis the rabies,” muttered one of the men, looking over his shoulder in fear.

  “Then what the hell…” Royce growled, taking one more step toward Fligh.

  The lieutenant dropped back half a pace. “Captain, I’m warning you. I don’t want to kill you.” All the same, there was a click as he cocked the hammer back.

  Royce thought the better of it. “All right, let’s have it.”

  “That man down in sick bay is howlin’ an’ frothin’ somethin’ terrible, sir…”

  “Of course,” Royce said, exasperated. “I told you to keep him locked away from anyone else, and nothing can harm…”

  “But, sar, it ain’t that,” groaned one of the sailors.

  “Then what is it, man? Speak up, for God’s sake. You’d better, or you’ll be kissing a whip from here to Cape Horn.”

  “Well, sar…”

  “Tell me!”

  Fligh cleared his throat. “Slyde has a big bulbous chanere in the area of the groin, sir. You let him on board, and also we ha’en’t been makin’ our share o’ gold this trip, so we got to protect ourselves, an’…”

  He went on talking for another couple of seconds, but Selena did not hear him, nor did Royce. The bite of many an infected animal might spread rabies, but the malevolent swelling in the groin meant only one thing: the plague.

  And Mr. Slyde, Selena’s erstwhile savior, was afflicted with it.

  Selena had been with Slyde a long time, of course. And she had also had acquaintance with the rats in the hold.

  Even Royce’s dark skin paled visibly as he registered the news and turned toward her.

  “The Black Death!” he said, between his teeth. “It killed half of Europe, not all that long ago, and now if it’s back…”

  “It’s back,” Fligh said, resigned. “It’s right here aboard this death ship ye’re runnin’. An’ that’s the point. The lot of us is too scared t’ t
rust yer judgment anymore.”

  “Come on, Fligh, Jesus…”

  “So we’re takin’ over till we can get to Spain or Portugal an’ put ashore. No false honeymoon cruises on this jaunt, I vow.” He shot Selena an accusatory glance. She met his eyes, unashamed. Fligh took that as a challenge. “At least Blakemore didn’t cause so much trouble when she was aboard,” he added.

  Royce flushed in anger. This time Selena felt pain. It seemed to satisfy the dour lieutenant.

  “All right Captain. We won’t be killin’ ye unless ’tis necessary. Just hold out yer hands fer the irons.”

  Three sailors stepped warily toward him, bearing the ugly cuffs and chains.

  “And perhaps the lady would like to step into some clothes for a change,” Fligh said.

  Selena tossed away the leopard skin. The men turned instinctively to see her naked body. Royce leaped forward. Fligh saw the blow coming, but, distracted by Selena, could not duck in time. Royce’s fist caught him square on the side of the jaw. He dropped like a poleaxed bull, and Royce twisted the heavy pistol from his hand. Immediately, he swung its muzzle toward the rebellious sailors, but it was too late. One of them—the mean-looking one with an odd scar across his throat, as if he’d been slashed or garroted—yanked Selena from the hammock and held her in front of him. His burly arm circled her waist. She caught his stench of salt and sweat and fear. His other arm crossed her, too, at the neck. It held a sword.

  “’Tis five days sailin’ t’ Tenerife, Cap’n,” the man gritted. “All’s we want is t’ get off this ship. Now, lookit the situation here, an’ the lady, an’ all, an’ put that gun away.”

  Fligh picked himself up off the deck. The other sailors, swords at the ready, tensed for his orders. Royce shifted the weapon tentatively from one to another of them. He met Selena’s eyes, and she saw that he had already measured the odds and found them formidable. The sailor who held her moved his hand up and cupped her breast.

  “All’s we want is off this ship at first port. This ’ere’s no regular mutiny. We got our health to think about, with the Black Death. But…” and here he slowly caressed Selena and then squeezed, to make her whimper “…there’s worse can happen, if ye get m’ drift…”

  “You son of a bitch,” Royce told him. “I’ll tear out your manhood with my fingernails…”

  Fligh shook his head to clear it. “Nay. Nay, Cap’n. Ye’re a good man but ye won’t be doin’ that. So let’s discuss this logical and smart. This is what we ’ave. Slyde in sick bay, still alive. ’E should be ’eaved o’erboard, but no man jack o’ us’ll touch ’im. So we ’ave f let ’im die there. You an’ the woman will be prisoners ’ere in the cabin. We’ll bring ye food an’ all.” He smiled bitterly, rubbing his jaw. “I daresay ye’ll not find it unpleasant.” He made a motion to the scar-necked sailor, who released Selena. She wrapped herself in the leopard skin. Royce was listening, intensely alert. “An’ when we reach port at Tenerife, ye say nithin’, see? Nary a word. Because if they’s t’ find out that we came from a plague ship, we’ll all be killed. Nay, we’ll go in by night, on the dinghy. Ye can explain whatever it is ye must. But we’ll take no lives here. That is, unless ye try f thwart us. Is that clear?”

  Royce inclined his head, not speaking. It was very clear.

  “Cap’n, ye know me. I’m as good as m’ word, an’ so are ye. There’ll be a guard on ye. At the door. It won’t be a pleasant bunch of sailin’ days, with all of us waitin’ an’ prayin’ not t’ get the plague. An’ if we do git it…”

  He did not finish. He did not have to. Panic. Mayhem.

  “So now let’s be, eh?”

  Situation clarified, agreement reached, Fligh and his mutineers retreated, setting the battered door in place as best they could, bracing it with beams. Selena could hear the guards muttering outside. She turned to Royce with a questioning look, then saw how crestfallen he was, and went to him.

  “Darling, it’s my fault. If I had let Slyde go, if I had let the waves carry him away…”

  He smiled sadly. “But that wouldn’t have been you, don’t you see? Although I must admit that, if you had, there would be no plague to panic my men. I suppose I can understand how they feel,” he added, after a moment.

  Simultaneously, they examined all the elements of the situation and came to the same conclusion. Trying to be frank and controlled, each saw his own fear reflected in the eyes of the other.

  “How long were you with Slyde?” he managed to ask.

  She told him.

  “The only chance is that, somehow, you were not yourself infected. Otherwise…”

  “How does it spread? The Black Death?”

  “Oh, God, but it’s a fearsome thing. It spreads like lightning, like an evil lie. And none to stop it. Out of the sewage and slime of Calcutta or Venice or Constantinople crawls the gray rat of doom, old and hoary, satiated by one last feast of excrement. He coughs and dies, the bastard, and his fleas leave their host with as much haste and loyalty as he himself has left many a sinking ship in his time. The fleas carry the germ of the Black Death. They must find other hosts to survive, and they most assuredly do. Other rats, animals, human beings…”

  “Does everyone…?”

  “No, never everyone. Always, some are immune. But the plague killed half the population of Europe. Killed half. Most of the rest were ill. From time to time there is an outbreak. One hears of it, in passing, as if a storm had hit some place far away. Fire has been used as the answer. Towns are quarantined and burned. Fire kills the rats and the fleas. But not all of them. And now we have the infection on the Highlander…”

  Selena realized his ship’s fate touched him deeply. “I think I’m all right, though,” she said, stepping away from him. “At least I feel all right. How does one know?”

  He saw her move away, and smiled, reaching for her. “Anyway, we’re together,” he said. “Let’s not think about it. Our plans have changed, that’s all. We’ll think of something. By summer solstice, in high June, I had expected to be showing you my tidewater plantation in Virginia, but now…”

  God knows where we’ll be, she thought. But at least they would be together.

  “But how does it start?” she asked again. “How does it begin?” If she knew the facts of the plague, perhaps its danger would be reduced.

  “You’ll know it when it comes,” he muttered, turning away from her, stepping to the porthole. The Milky Way swept across the sky, remote and phosphorescent. Beautiful as diamonds, cold as ice. And just as neutral to their plight. “The weakness and the fever strike as suddenly as a hammer blow, and just as powerfully. You cannot move, or eat, or lift a hand to drink a cup of water. Sweat pours out of you, and with it, life. Then a hard, deadly carbuncle forms in the groin. Oh, ’tis hard indeed. And in it lies the poison of the disease. If it can be lanced at the right time, there may be hope, but even then…”

  He threw up his hands in a gesture of hopelessness, turned away from the stars.

  “And there may be frenzy, as well, both among the infected and among the observers. Bodies turn black, and death is near. It is a disturbing sight. Those near such death are apt to run amok. Perhaps it is excusable. Even natural…”

  Selena shivered in the leopard skin, and did she feel—or was it merely imagination?—a foul heat spreading across her skin? Down between her thighs, gooseflesh formed, and she shuddered, not able to help herself. Such pleasure the flesh could give, to make one die, but terrible anguish too. No! It would not happen to either of them. Somehow, they would conspire to…to what? You could not wall yourself away from that which was invisible. A sound escaped her throat, much like a sob. Royce came to her, held her close.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m all right,” she said, but she was thinking of the vow he had broken, when he told her about the strange Campbell ritual of the wolf. A vow was engraved in the black granite that lay at the edge of the universe, in which the stars, too, were embedded. Sorrow came to those w
ho broke a vow. There would be retribution.

  Bright dawn bathed their bodies in light. Selena stirred, and felt him there beside her, and permitted herself moments of quiet rapture, forbidding herself to think of anything but this. He slept deeply, one strong arm thrown over the side of the hammock, his back toward her. A strange and complicated man, beautiful to her, but with a past as wild and trackless as was the unquenchable thirst for adventure which shaped his life, all this future as far as he could see. That was what he wanted, the far-flung, boundless mystery of it unfettered by sentiment or political belief or national loyalty. That was what he wanted, and that was what made him happy. That and Selena beneath him in the night to give him love, to milk his lust with the skill of her clutching flesh. But still…

  The Highlander was moving very fast; wind cracked in the rigging, swelled the sails. Oceans bucked beneath them. Sun fell across his eyes, there beside her. Immediately upon awakening, his mind was on the problem.

  “We may have a chance…” he began, but she pressed her finger across his lips, indicating the guards beyond the door with a tilt of her head. He obeyed, and groaned softly as she reached to pleasure him in the way he had taught her.

  They were startled to icy fright by the scream. At first the words were indistinct, somewhere in another part of the ship, but then the cry came again, closer this time.

  “’Tis Slyde! ’E’s on the loose!”

  And then a series of answering screams and cries of fright, as the alarm was passed throughout the ship.

  Selena looked at Royce, who in a flash was out of the hammock, pulling on his breeches and boots. Then he, was pounding on the door, yelling at the guards.