Captain Blackheart’s treasure

Category: Real Person Fic

Characters: Julian Barratt, Noel Fielding

Pairing: Noel Fielding/Julian Barratt

Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, AU (Alternate Universe), Drama, Romance

Rating: NC-17

Warning: BDSM, Character Death, Smut (graphic sex scenes), Violence - Heavy, Unspecified Warning

Status: Complete

Length: 30-40k words

Notes: If you read this and enjoyed (or not) feedback would be really appreciated! The story on LJ (Each part links to the next) http://community.livejournal.com/booshslashhaven/327800.html

Beta by the wonderful plainJane.

Oh, and GIVE ME FEEDBACK, PLEASE!

---

[nextpage title=”Chapter 1 – A sailor’s life for me!”]
Chapter 1 – A sailor’s life for me!

Author’s Notes: Young master Fielding was in grave danger, and didn’t even know it…

---

Young master Fielding was in grave danger, and didn’t even know it.

The elder child of a respectable and well to do family, Noel (for that was his name), was always a hand full. He was 25 years of age yet showed no signs of settling down, raising a family or even getting a job.

He was a constant embarrassment to his family, and nowadays it seemed his father was so frustrated with him he was only able to communicate with his son via an intricate system of sighs and frowns.

You see, the handsome young man was blessed with many a noble attributes, but was never too inclined to use any of them. Instead, he would sleep all day and drink and flirt all night. The combined sound of loud girlish giggles and rustling leaves that emerged every night from the Fielding back gardens, earned it the dubious nickname “Early fall manor”.

Noel was, in a word, spoiled.

He was also very, very bored. The boy knew all the maids employed in his household biblically well, and endlessly explored all the pubs, taverns and brothels in town.

So when the governor asked his father to store some of the cargo confiscated from yet another navy raid, he decided that was the adventure he was looking for!

It wasn’t the first time Early fall manor hosted bounty of mild importance and wealth, and it wasn’t the first time Noel stole from it.

But this time he knew he stumbled across something different. Between the statues and carpets and chests, he found something of real interest.

Costumes had always been alluring to the young master Fielding so he couldn’t resist going through the pile of clothes lying on the floor. Amongst the rich, intricately embroidered dresses, the kind that he was usually tempted to try on, laid a jacket Noel was absolutely fascinated by. A black frock coat made from a thick and heavy garment, with an elaborate gold trim running though it. It was all worn out, torn at just about every seam and terribly, stinkily, dirty…

By looking at it you could feel its rich past, and just a hint of the future.

It was as though the jacket held inside it all the promise of excitement and adventure Noel’s life seemed to be so lacking.

He put it on and was drowned by it. It was huge and heavy, its owner obviously a big man, and it instantly made Noel feel powerful and commanding. He continued to examine it, mesmerized, and set on to check the content of its many, many pockets: They were all emptied out.

All but one, that is.

In an inside pocket, innocently tucked away, was a small piece of parchment. The boy unfold it with shaky hands. It had a humble drawing of what looked like an archipelago, some miles off the coast of “Singapore“ in the “South China sea“. A small island named “Bulan“ had a drawing of a cave on its eastern coastline with a simple X marking.

It didn’t have any distinguishing elements to it, except the initials T.M.B written at the top right corner, and it really didn’t seem like much. But young Fielding instinctually knew there was no sense in decorating and needlessly drawing attention to a TREASURE MAP.

---

Noel was kept awake all night, his mind racing. He spent the good part of the evening before picking out his outfit. He thought a lot was riding on him getting just the right look. Normally quite the dandy and a flamboyant dresser, Noel felt that for this occasion he must pick an ensemble that said “simple” and “manly” with a hint of “street savvy”. He chose a brown woolen collarless jacket, un-matching light green breeches (!), a simple white shirt with no ruffles, a black leather belt, black boots and no vest (!!).

In the morning, the boy dressed up and examined himself in the mirror.

He really wished his clothes weren’t in such good condition. He tied his soft brown hair into a pony tale, then decided the unkempt look was better and let it fall down to his shoulders. Then, excitement and curiosity almost too hard to contain, he hastily headed down to the docks.

Noel used to hang around there on occasions, when he was feeling especially bored or brave, and knew the pubs owners and some of the regular customers. He was looking for a man he once met briefly called Doherty, who was well known for dealing with stolen goods and doing business with most ships: merchant, navy and pirate.

In spite of his admirable attempt at a more humble attire, the boy still stood out in the dirty old pub, amongst its earthy population.

“I’m looking for James Doherty”.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, “Oh, is that so?”

“Aye, I may have a business proposition for him”, Noel tried to look as unruffled as possible.

Perhaps the “Aye” was too much?

The bartender grunted and disappeared behind the kitchen door. Seven minutes later he reemerged followed by Doherty and two strange men. Noel was taken aback by the company: A huge youngish man the size and shape of an outhouse and an older fat and greasy man with mean eyes.

The bartender showed them to a seating area in a back room. The boy followed reluctantly and turned to Doherty whispering under his breath. “Erm, May I speak to you alone, sir?”

“No”

His heart sank.

“Oh, you can trust my colleagues. This is Mister Samson”, the big fellow nodded, “and this is master Merrit.” The second man didn’t so much as blink.

“You seem to know who I am, but who might you be?”

“Oh, right, excuse me. The name’s… Neil Farnaby”.

“Now, Neil Farnaby, how may we help you?”

Call him naïve, call him too trusting, or just call the child by his name—an idiot, but even if Noel had his doubts by now, it was too late to pull back.

“Well…” the boy sat down, took a deep breath and spoke. “I recently came into possession of a… a certain article that might be of value.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it has the initials T.M.B on it. Ring any bells?”

At the mention of T.M.B Doherty’s left eye twitched and Noel’s heart sped in a blend of excitement and terror.

Walk away, walk away NOW.

“Um, Naturally I don’t have it with me, but if I find out the article is genuine and of interest, I might be willing to do business. Perhaps organize a crew to go fetch the rest of the items…

“Will you, now…?”

“With the right sort of people, of course.”

“Of course. And have you met the right sort of people yet?”

“Well, It all depends on what they have to tell me, now doesn’t it?”

Ha!

The boy felt a sudden rush of confidence.

“Well, those initials may belong to a certain man called Thomas Montgomery Black, But you might know him as Captain ‘Blackheart’.

They say he hid a treasure so rich in gold you must never look straight at it, or you’re likely to go blind!

It is rumored that he buried the loot somewhere off the shores of Singapore but was caught and hung before he managed to retrieve it.”

Noel gulped, his pupils wide, his head throbbing.

Singapore…!

He immediately regained his composure as he realized he was truly and completely out of his depth.

“Right, that’s really interesting…”

Finish this, fool, and go home.

“So, when can we meet here again, to further discuss our future business arrangement?… and for you to observe the… item?”

He had no intention of ever going back there.

Doherty smiled heartily. “That’s entirely up to you, my lad.”

“Is it?”

“Sure. Their ship, “The Prince Vince”, will be sailing in three days time. You are welcome to visit me on board anytime till then”.

The boy got up, noting to himself to not go anywhere near the harbour.

“Well, thank you, sirs, that’s… that’s what I’ll do. Soon. As soon as I consult with my crew and then I’ll be back, and… good day.”

He was never going to do anything like this again…

Well, maybe not NEVER.

The three men got up to escort him out. He nodded at them and forced a smile, then turned and hurried to the door with a sigh of relief.

He stretched his arm but couldn’t quite reach the door. He felt a hand, the size of his face, pressing forcefully against his mouth, and managed to sneak a quick realization before passing out from the harsh blow that had landed on the back of his neck.

This can’t be good.

Young master Fielding was right. Being beaten, kidnapped and sent aboard a pirate ship, was very rarely a good thing.

---

The first thing that hit Noel as he regained consciousness was the smell. The sickening, sweet stench of a dank and moldy room.

Then came the sounds of waves crashing, squeaky wooden boards and a rattling chain…

After that the painful memory of the succession of events that lead him to where he was now.

Wherever that was.

How could he have been so stupid?!

He waited for his eyes to grow accustomed to the dark and pulled himself into a seating position.

AAAAAGHHHH!

… Last came the pain from the gash at the back of his head.

He gradually opened his eyes again and looked around him. He was alone, on a lower bunk bed in a small and very dark cabin, aboard the belly of a sailing ship and, just as he feared, he was shackled by his ankle to the wall.

He heard someone unlocking the door and quickly laid himself back down on the bed, closing his eyes.

The door opened and a tall man went in. Noel opened a crack in his eyes and peeked from behind his lashes. He saw the man place a tray of food on a stool in front of him. The man then approached the bed, bent over and stretched a long arm at the boy’s forehead.

Noel winced.

“Oh, so ye’r awake. Good.”. The man retracted his hand and straightened himself up. “Ye should eat”. He turned and started to leave when a small voice came from the bed.

“Please, sir, let me go.”

This was met with no answer, but the tall man stopped in his tracks and sighed.

“I KNOW you’re a good person at heart and this is probably a mistake, and I come from a rich family, so I can reward you and…”

“Hey, kid, ye be talkin’ to the wrong man. I be just the cook.”

“Oh… Then tell your captain or Doherty or… Please, I don’t belong in here. I can make it worth their while…”

“It seems ye already made it worth their while.”

By instinct, the boy’s hand reached for where his right inner pocket and map would have been, if he had still been wearing his jacket.

He slammed his head against the mattress, and immediately regretted the pain that followed.

Stupid!

“How did they know?”

“They took a chance. Ye not bein’ the first idiot they’ve ever encountered. If ye didn’t have the map on ye, ye would probably be at home right now, nursin’ a headache.”

Noel felt his body well up with hatred towards the man, resenting him for callously poking fun at his misfortune and detesting him for calling him an idiot. But it was nothing compared to how much he hated himself. He was an idiot…

“Well, maybe I can…”

“Ye be wastin’ yer time. Best just accept this”.

It suddenly occurred to him. “It’s not safe for you to keep me; my father is an important man. There’s probably an entire fleet out looking for me by now”.

“They smeared yer jacket with pig’s blood and left it lyin’ somewhere. I expect yer family thinks ye been murdered and dumped in the river.” The boy whimpered but managed to hold back the tears.

“What are you planning to do with me?”

The cook sighed, he hated being in the same category as the captain and the others. “The captain’s changed the course and we be headin’ further south. I imagine if he’ll succeed in retrievin’ the booty, he won’t be needin’ ye no more and will probably set ye free.”

“And if he won’t succeed?”

“Ye want the truth?”

“Please.”

“Luckily for ye, he’ll still be needin’ to sponsor this voyage somehow, so he won’t kill ye. He might hold ye for ransom or…” He lowered his head and continued under his moustache “or he might sell ye for slavery.”

The young man gasped in surprise, he didn’t expect that answer.

“I’m sorry.” The tall man made his way to the door in silence.

Though he told himself he mustn’t break down in the presence of his capturer, Noel finally gave in. He rolled on his right side to face the wall, curled up and broke into a loud and uncontrollable cry.

The cook froze for about a minute, then turned back again, cursing himself for what he was about to do.

“Look, kid, what I think ye should do, is make yerself as useful as possible, yeah?”

The boyl half-successfully calmed his sobbing and rolled back to face the man.

“We just lost a cabin boy and I’ll be needin’ the assistance. I’ll talk to the Captain, convince him to give ye the job, tell him it’s always valuable to have another Jack that can read and write. Ye’ll have to clean, cook and slave all hours of the day, but if ye behave, work hard and keep invisible, I reckon it be yer best chance at survivin’ this.”

Noel started sobbing again, hating himself for being so weak.

“Listen, it ain’t so bad. Ye get used to it in the end. And that way, when we reach dry la…”

A light from above the cabin came shining through the floor boards, followed by the sound of footsteps and muffled talking. The cook looked up and immediately put his finger to his lips. “Shhhh”. He then silently returned to look down at the bed.

For the first time, he could actually see the young man who was looking at him intently. He had huge bright eyes with long lashes glued together by tears.

He looked like a puppy.

The boy looked at the tall man’s face, now made more visible by the dim rays of light, as he awaited further instructions. He had ruffled hair and kind eyes. Small, but kind eyes.

After what must have been five minutes, the men above walked off, recasting darkness and silence into the cabin. Finally, the cook continued.

“When we reach dry land, then ye can try to escape or send a word to yer family or whatever ye like. Ye understand me?”

Noel nodded, not sure if his gesture was seen in the dark, but the tall man didn’t seem to care.

“Now, eat up. Ye be needin’ to gain yer strength back”.

The boy wiped his tears with the back of his hand, trying to control his sniffles.

“Thank you”.

“Yeah…”.

“I’m Noel” he said stretching his hand to shake the other man’s.

It was unreciprocated.

“I’ll go talk to the captain now”.

The boy looked at the man as he left the room shaking his head and grunting.

He felt his head might split open with all the thoughts and emotions pounding inside it. He didn’t know what was to become of him, or when and how this will all end, but right now he felt like his only hope was to trust this stranger.

---

[nextpage title=”Chapter 2 – Hook, line and sinker…”]
Chapter 2 – Hook, line and sinker…

Author’s Notes: The men couldn’t get enough of Noel and he was a source for much needed entertainment in the long journey.

---

But Julian sensed there was something sinister lurking underneath the surface…

“BARRRRATT!”

The cook hated to admit it, but Captain Mann was right to be angry, his dinner WAS taking far too long.

“Come on, Fieldin’, keep up!” The taller man called back over his shoulder as he made his way through the ship’s narrow passageways.

“I’m sorry, Julian sir” cried the young man trying not to spill anything and keep close behind.

It was the end of Noel’s first month as cabin boy/ help to the cook and he wasn’t doing too well. He found difficulty in everything he did, from opening crates, to chopping vegetables, to mopping floors. ANYTHING and everything was a struggle and the cook had to cover up for him more times than he’d care admit to himself. But Julian was convinced he made the right decision in begging the captain to give him a chance, even if it did mean he had to work twice as hard. The boy was trying his best, didn’t dare complain and seemed hell bent on not disappointing him. It was almost endearing, in a sad sort of way.

The two men reached the dining room half an hour late and looking out of breath.

“Sorry, captain, whole thing’s my fault, dropped the roast and had to make a casserole instead”.

The young man looked at Julian with an expression of gratitude that annoyed the cook in its obviousness.

“Let this be the last time, Barratt. I’ve grown tired of your incompetence.”

“Ye be right, Captain, my apologies”.

After years of unrewarding and ungrateful service as head of a merchant ship, the 43 years old Captain Mann recently decided to redirect his business, slowly and secretly, into piracy.

Jack Mann was a tough but mostly fair commander who managed to gain, through hard work and some amount of viciousness, the respect, awe and fear of his men, so much so that nearly all of them blindly followed his transition into the sweet trade. He was a broad shouldered and big boned man—though by no means fat, a hardened mariner with a fixed stern look and an almost medical difficulty to smile.

He also held a violent dislike of Julian Barratt.

A kind of hatred we reserve only for people whom we know are less accomplished, were given far less in life, won’t amount to anything, and yet are better than us in every… single… way…

Though a shy and not very talkative person, the 30 year old cook was instantly likeable and trustworthy. He was clever and kind and held a quiet authority that could have made him a natural leader, in different circumstances… and he was also striking.

Behind the disheveled mess of grease and hair was a tall, svelte and handsome man, the kind that could make women swoon, if he only had the means or will… The greatest insult being, the fool didn’t even know all this about himself! It’s as if, by some cruel trick of fate, Barratt was handed all that Mann wished for, yet was kept completely oblivious to the mix up.

As Irony would have it, those thoughts could have been the greatest compliments Julian had ever recieved in his miserable life… had they not been fueling a slow-simmering sadistic obsession.

The cook quickly started serving the casserole and Noel went round the table dealing bread and drinks to all the officers.

“Tank you very much, me lad”, said Master Meritt with a smile and a sing-song voice as the boy filled his cup with rum.

The quartermaster was easily the oldest and ugliest person in the room. The way he was built as well as his facial features reminded Noel of a sack of potatoes, and between himself he referred to him as “the spud”.

He was a religious nag that kept telling biblical tales and quoting the New Testament on the most inappropriate occasions, and what he lacked in charms he made up in a mixed stench of alcohol and dried sweat…

But he was harmless and though Noel still resented him for his part in his abduction, he had to admit, the man was very kind to him ever since he came on board.

He smiled back coyly and continued to serve the rest of the staff of command.

---

The men were famished so it didn’t take them long to trough the food and down their drinks, and soon the cook and his assistant were making their way back to the galley.

“Thank you”.

Julian kept walking down the passageway without looking at the younger man.

“Aye… Ye can thank me by stop bein’ such a sprog.”

The silence was quickly interrupted by Noel’s singing.

“Oh… Sproggy sprog
Quick fetch me my grog
Else you’ll get the flog
And be fed to the dog!”Julian halted.

“Wow, Fieldin’, that HAS to be yer worst one yet!”

“What?! I though it was really good, for a top of my head sort of thing!”

“Ye sure ye not be missin’ a line about Dutch footwear?”

“You’re just jealous of my gift!”

“Which is that, the gift of constant annoyance?

… the secret talent of givin’ me a rash?”

“Inspired rhyming, they call me ‘the pirate bard’!”

“Whatever. Just don’t repeat it to the crew, alright? Unless ye really DO want to be fed to the dog…”

“I want to be fed to a frog, can you arrange that for me?”

“I’ll talk to the captain, see what I can do”.

Noel gave the cook a quick wink, “Aw, thanks. I’ll go clean up now!” and was off.

Julian looked at him as he resumed his walki… well, skipping, and disappeared around the bend…

And there it was again, that stupid smile. It had quietly crept in, found residency on the cook’s face and refused to leave ever since that Fielding boy came aboard.

The hours they spent in the galley together, talking and singing and cooking, seemed to zoom by and it was during those times that Julian found himself to be the most relaxed.

The cook never had a friend that he really was comfortable and could lighten up with, and it just felt so natural and simple and nice…

---

The weeks came and went and Noel showed some, though marginal, improvement. But the truth was, it seemed the only skills the boy truly and completely mastered in his short life, were his social ones. He was extraordinary.

At ease with himself and anyone around him, he was naturally funny and irresistibly charming. The crew spent hours crowded around him on deck while he imitated the staff of command, capturing their voices and manners with an amazing accuracy.

He would sing and dance and play out his very own sea shanties that he would make up at a drop of a hat. The men couldn’t get enough of him and he was a source for much needed entertainment in the long journey.

But the cook sensed there was something sinister lurking underneath the surface.

Noel was very good looking: Smooth marble skin outstanding against a dark, long hair, which, in its turn, emphasized a set of bright blue eyes and cupid red lips. All features adding up to create a spectacular face, made complete by a strong bone structure, a delicate neck and a small, slender body—he was an exceptionally beautiful man…

In fact, he looked like a woman.

This truth hadn’t escaped Julian and it hadn’t, he was sure of it, escaped the rest of the crew.

The long journey was starting to take its toll on the men, making them dispirited, restless and agitated.

Their last stop, all those months ago, was cut short when they had to double up on provisions and leave port as soon as possible—before anyone would think of checking the ship for young master Fielding. Since then, they haven’t had a proper night out and found no outlet for their pent up tension.

The cook saw them. Watching the boy, exchanging looks and whispering around him, Accidentally bumping into him in corridors, losing their footing and grabbing for hold, mistakenly kicking his bucket and watching him as he got back on all fours to clean up again, unintentionally pouring water on him, apologizing in embarrassment while the shirt clung to his frame.

Julian saw it all and it made him very nervous and even more protective of Noel.

He couldn’t let anything happen to him, the boy was his responsibility, he was in his care, he was… he was like a younger brother to him, the family he never had!

He knew he had to act and do it fast.

Noel, on his part, was enjoying the attention and his obvious popularity and was somewhat annoyed with the cook’s constant criticizing of his skills, when all the rest of the crew seemed as clumsy as he was…

---

As much as Julian was acutely aware of everything going on with Noel, he was completely oblivious to anything regarding himself.

He approached the Captain with great urgency asking him to move the boy out of the cramped crew quarters and into the cabin next to the galley.

“What’s the matter, Barratt? Have you got nightmares?

Looking for someone to hold your hand?”

Julian ignored the captain’s snigger.

“It makes no sense, sir, for me to disturb all the sleepin’ men every mornin’ while I try to wake him up.”

“So the boy is giving you troubles then?”

“What? No, no troubles at all. But goin’ into the room, makin’ noises so early… I think it’s upsettin’ the men. They’re restless as it is.”

Captain Mann looked somewhat incredulous.

“I also think,” Julian continued before the Captain’s look turned into a refusal “that it would be better if breakfast was already cooked by the time everybody got up. This way I could get up early and we could fix it quick smart…”

The fact that Mann had to consent to the cook’s wishes AGAIN was making him nauseous, but the men HAVE been edgy and the thought of not waiting for his food in the morning seemed very tempting indeed. He had no real reason to turn down Barratt’s proposal and the sour and bitter taste spread in his mouth as he gave his answer.

“Fine.

But if breakfast isn’t ready on time tomorrow he’s going back and you’ll get the Flog”.

The cook always felt that though Captain Mann was outwardly tough and seemingly impatient with him, in his heart, he actually bore respect and fondness of Julian.

---

An exhausted cook loomed over the heaving mass of blankets waving a frying pan and looking insane.

The younger man beneath the covers made no attempt at moving.

Julian came close to where the head should be and started loudly.

“What shall I do with a lazy Fieldin’
What shall I do with a lazy Fieldin’
What shall I do with a lazy Fieldin’
Early in the mornin’?”This produced no effect from the pile.

“Hit him on the head with a burnin’ skillet
Hit him on the head with a burnin’ skillet
Hit him on the head with a burnin’ skillet
Does he think I’m jokin’?!”Suddenly a hoarse voice came from underneath the woolen cover.

“What shall you do with master fielding?
First of all just stop the singing!
And Let him sleep until October
‘bout then he’ll be sober!”The cook seemed utterly unimpressed.

“Don’t think he’ll survive till fall… what with bein’ murdered and all. Now GET UP!”

The blanket stirred and let out a woeful moan, then went still.

“Perhaps another nice bath in the old fish barrel would help?”

Covers flew aside as a groggy-looking Noel instantly emerged.

“I’m up, I’m up!”

He looked at the tall man, who lowered the frying pan and smiled contently.

“It was 3 weeks ago” the boy sighed “and I can STILL find scales in my hair. I’m like a scaly man-fish…

Ugh, why do we have to get up so early EVERY morning?”

“We just do, hurry up.”

---

The cook and his assistant were sitting in the kitchen peeling and chopping.

Due to the long unexpected voyage, tensions were running high and provisions dangerously low. Especially after the desperately needed stop in Madagascar was called off after “the Prince Vince” narrowly escaped being spotted by another, bigger pirate ship.

Fresh fruits were all gone and the only vegetables remaining were a few potatoes, some carrots and cabbages, lots and lots of cabbages. Julian had to become extremely creative with his cooking and it left him very frustrated: There’s only so much you can do! There was carrots and fish casserole, cabbage and fish soup, cabbage and carrot pastry, mashed potatoes and cabbages, and his now famed, or rather infamous, “cabbage surprise”, which basically meant you got a steamed cabbage again and surprised yourself with not storming the kitchen and killing the cook.

They were rough times and the ship sailed into a lot of difficulties, but the galley was a cheerful place still. Even if it DID mean the cook had to spend most of his days listening to Noel trying to find all the words that rhyme with scurvy.

The boy was fidgeting in his chair, intentionally demonstrating his discomfort all morning.

“God, will this chopping ever end?”

“I reckon there’s another storm tonight, best be prepared.”

“God, will these storms ever end?”

“Not until we pass Sri Lanka, I s’pose. Now, quit yer whinin’ and get on with it!”

Noel yawned loudly. “I’m just so tired… and I’m in desperate need of a hair of the dog.”

“There’s a surprise.”

“What is THAT suppose to mean?”

“If ye KNOW ye be gettin’ up early, why do ye drink yerself to death the night before?”

“Oh, it’s not like today’s any different, we have to get up early EVERY scurvy morning!”

“Yeah, but do ye have to get drunk EVERY single night?”

“Here we go again…”

“Well, I be the one tryin’ to wake ye up in the mornin’!”

“Why are you such a killjoy? What’s wrong with having a bit of fun with yer mateys?”

The cook cringed, he hated when the boy tried to speak pirate.

“Aye, with ye singin’ and dancin’ for them as’if ye were a monkey…”

“And what’s wrong with THAT? Just because you don’t have any friends…”

“They’re bad people and they are NOT yer friends.”

“Oh, stop it! I know you want to join us.

I see you standing there every night, looking at us…”

“It’s not like that.”

“Whatever. If you ever decide to stop being a tired old nag, let me know.

You know how to find me, yeah? I’ll be the one at the center of attention, having all the fun”.

“Fine!”

“FINE!”

For the next half hour, both men sat in silence, grumpily peeling the carrots and dicing the cabbage.

The boy seemed to get more and more annoyed with the job in hand.

“Argh! Someone scurvied with me knife, it’s gone all dull!”

“Fieldin’, I swear if ye use scurvy as a verb one more time, I’m gonna come at ye…”

“You and what army?”

“Army? Ye don’t need an army to snap a twig”.

“Uh!” Noel wanted to take offense but couldn’t suppress the smirk.

“You may think you’re funny, Barratt, but you’re not.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. They call you ‘Barren Barratt’—cause you’re as funny as the desert.”

“It’s ‘Barrel Barratt’, Sproggy, as in ‘of laughs’.”

“I was told differently.”

“Really, by who?”

“Tony.”

“Tony?”

“Yeh.”

“He’s a mute!”

“He’s not… he’s just pretending around you, cause you’re so bloody boring.”

“For the past seven years he kept this up?”

“Well, you HAVE been consistently unfunny…”

“YOU keep this up, Fieldin’, and I be tellin’ the captain I was wrong all along and we should sell ye.”

The cook took an examining look at Noel, sizing him up.

“I reckon we can fetch a goat for ye.”

“As if! I’m worth my weight in gold!”

“Ye’re worth your weight in cabbage.”

The boy snorted in surprise and Julian took that as a sign of his own victory.

The cook enjoyed these banters with his assistant and rarely were they offended by each other’s words. Julian saw himself as a funny man, but no one ever seemed to really understand his humour, at least not without thinking him a bit weird. Noel didn’t seem to mind and, in fact, was often weirder.

---

The tempest was raging, rocking the ship violently and tossing the young man and the content of the room from one side to the other. Noel had never been too partial to storms, but this one was on a different scale altogether.

It felt like the boat was in real danger of overturning and the constant swaying was accompanied by the terrifying sounds of wind howling, rain pounding, waves crashing and wood breaking.

The cook sent his assistant to bring him some firewood from the storage room (that cabin where Noel was kept in after his abduction) a good half an hour ago, when the sea was relatively calm. But now, all that the boy could bring himself to do was stand and hug the poll in the middle of the room and pray. He was hanging on for dear life, closing his eyes and pursing his lips tightly.

If it was possible for a stomach to turn itself to death this is how it would feel like.

“Seasick?”

The quartermaster entered the room looking as calm as ever. Noel squinted up then quickly closed his eyes again and nodded without a sound.

“Aww, poor ting, that’s yer first serious storm, ain’t it?”

The boy really was a sad sight.

“Ye’ll get used to dem soon enough… But I have to admit ‘TIS a big one.”

Noel focused on his breathing, eyes still shut.

“The first ting ye should do, is have a lie down. The room’ll spin slower. Trust me.”

The boy opened his eyes but was afraid that if he let go, he would most likely throw up vital organs.

Merrit walked over and stretched out an arm. “Come on, lad, nice n’ easy.”

Noel took his hand and let go of the poll. His head was spinning so fast he couldn’t see or walk straight. The older man walked him to the bed and the boy laid himself down.

This didn’t seem to help much.

“Second ting, ye’ll learn, is to open yer eyes.

Seein’ the room move helps. Focus yer eyes on one fixed point.”

Noel slowly opened his eyes. Merrit was right, he did feel slightly better.

“Thank you”.

“No need to tank me, me boy,” Said the quartermaster as he sat down on the bed beside him and smiled. “We all went through dis”.

The boy reciprocated with a pitiful smile of gratitude.

“Normally I’d tell ye to eat a bite of lemon or an orange, but unfortunately, as ye very well know, we ran out of fresh fruit a long time ago.”

The ship was rattled again by another breaking wave. Noel retched, a quiet whimper escaping his lips.

The quartermaster looked apologetic. “I’m afraid all I can offer ye is a good old friend and an ancient remedy.”

The old man took out a flask from his jacket and handed it to Noel. The young man propped up on his elbow, grabbed the flask with the other hand and took a large fast sip. The burn of the drink took him by surprise and he coughed and choked.

This was no Rum.

“Easy dere boy, ye need to be careful with that; ‘tis a secret recipe. I make it meself from potato peels.”

It was a good thing Noel felt like he was on his death bed, or he would have broken down howling with laughter.

“Ye know, I remember me first storm as if it were yesterday,” Merrit continued, “Aye, it was…”

Suddenly a loud crash was heard, obviously made by something shattered against the deck, and the vessel shuddered in horror.

The boy gasped, instinctually closed his eyes and clutched Merrit’s left hand, squeezing it tight.

“Oh, me poor boy” said the quartermaster placing his right hand over Noel’s and stroking it gently. “Me beautiful, beautiful boy…”

Noel’s eyes shot open.

“Actually, I think I better go now. They need me in the galley”

“Nonsense, nobody be doin’ any cooking in a time like this. Ye should lie here and rest.”

“I-I do feel much better.”

The boy sat up, trying to regain focus in his eyes and head.

“A few more minutes won’t hurt anyone” said the quartermaster and placed his hand on Noel’s chest, pushing him back down. He never looked as ugly.

“I’d like to leave now, please”, the young man whispered

“Shh, don’t fight it”.

The boy mustered all his powers and flung himself off the bed. He stood looking around him frantically, searching for the door.

“Thank you, urm, sir, for your, F-for the… OH!”

Merrit got up and was coming at him at a steady pace.

The ship swayed back and forth and the dizzy Noel struggled to keep his footing, with each rock the stools, boxes and tables dragged across the room threatening to crash themselves into the two men. He stumbled for the wall, holding on to it and walking around the room towards the exit as quickly as he could.

Master Merrit went straight across the room and cut in front of the cabin boy, blocking him with his heavy body. The quartermaster was now facing him, his arms against the wall, trapping the young man from both sides. Noel gave a tremble as he felt the older man’s breath on his face.

“Why the change of heart?”

“What?”

“Why are ye so shy all of de sudden?”

“Please, I don’t under…”

“I’ve seen the way ye look at me… dose smiles and winks… dat touch.”

“What?!!?”

“Believe me; I understand exactly how ye feel”.

The man puckered his lips and leant forward, but the boy shut his mouth tight and turned his head.

“Just admit it; it’s what we both want.”

He grabbed Noels chin forcefully with his right hand and pushed his mouth against the young man’s, his tongue trying to penetrate his mouth, his body ramming him hard into the wall.

“What’s goin’ on here?!”

The cook’s eyes were burning with rage, as he stood at the now open door.

“Noting, noting at all” said the quartermaster, still holding Noel’s chin in his hand.

“The boy was just a bit dizzy.”

“Well, we need him in the kitchen”.

Merrit took off his hand, but the boy didn’t move.

“Noel, get over here, RIGHT NOW!”

The young man blinked a couple of times then broke away from the human barrier and walked shakily towards Julian.

Julian took him by the wrist, whilst still glaring at Merrit. Storming off, he dragged Noel behind him.

“God, Noel, how could ye be so stupid?” the cook raised his voice as they were mid-way down the corridor, still holding the boy’s hand.

Abruptly he stopped, turning to face Noel.

“Did he hurt ye?”

The boy looked at the taller man and said nothing.

Julian let go of his hand and shook him by the shoulders, “DID HE HURT YE?”

“no…”

“Oh, thank god!” the cook flung his arms around him in a hug that surprised even himself. Noel stood tucked safely in his arms when suddenly he pushed away, turned his back and threw up.

Julian softly held back the boy’s hair as he continued to vomit. In between retches Noel looked up with thankful eyes.

“Yeah, I know—save the hair. We can’t have ye still findin’ cabbage chunks three weeks from now.” The boy gave a tired giggle then bent down again…

“All done now?” the cook asked when the young man finished his fourth round and

wiped his mouth clean with his sleeve. He nodded.

The two men resumed their walking and nearly reached the kitchen when Noel broke the silence without raising his head. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright, ye’ll be the one cleanin’ it up in a couple of minutes” the cook said smiling.

The boy halted and Julian did the same.

“No, I mean, I’m sorry” he said avoiding the tall man’s eyes, staring at the floor.

“What? No, this is not yer fault, ye hear me?”

It was as if a dam was about to burst in Noel, threatening to drown the both of them. The cook took the younger man’s face in his hands “I didn’t mean it, ye’re not stupid. He’s a sick man, and it was NOT yer fault!”

The boy looked up and his eyes met Julian’s. So wide and blue and wet, like a puppy, with the same look they had the first time the cook saw them, that night in the cabin, all them months ago… A rush of adrenalin overtook the cook and he closed his eyes and urgently pressed his lips against Noel’s, with a deep breath.

“Oh, god…”

Julian tore away. The realization of what he just did immediately sunk in.

“Oh, god, no, no, no…” There was a tremble in his voice.

The young man looked at him with shock. The cook, his hands grabbing his own head, stumbled back with an expression of horror.

“Noel, no… I’m so sorry”.

The younger man didn’t speak and stared at Julian blankly.

“Please, I’m so sorry…” The cook shook his head and continued to distance himself with shaking steps. Then he stopped—he seemed to have momentarily cleared his mind and straighten his thoughts.

“Please, Noel, no matter what just happened, listen to me: ye must go inside and board the door until the storm passes!

Do it. NOW!”

The boy nodded and went inside and Julian turned and ran away as fast as his legs allowed him.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Two hours after the storm subsided, Julian made his silent way into the cabin.

He crawled into his bunk bed, where he laid awake till morning—tortured by the sound of Noel sighing in his sleep.

He was tossing and turning and he felt physically ill.

How could he?

How could he do that?

What kind of a man are you?

Noel trusted you!

He’s like a son to you!

But he couldn’t stop himself. The boy’s face was etched on the inside of his eyelids, the feel of those lips burnt deep onto his own…

How he longed to feel the warmth of that body, touch that skin, inhale his scent, taste that mouth again.

Oh, the things he imagined himself doing to him.

Horrible, violent, abominable things… to his only friend!

He desperately fought the urge to touch himself, as his own body disgusted him.

He was just like them.

He was an animal.

He couldn’t let his guard down, afraid of what he’ll do in his sleep. So he waited till sunrise, when Noel woke up, and approached the young man with a pained look and a firm voice.

“We have to get ye out of here.”

---

[nextpage title=”Chapter 3 – The Calm…”]
Chapter 3 – The Calm…

Author’s Notes:The captain was anxious. He had an edgy crew on his hands and he was about to break some bad news to them. He didn’t want to, but too many people saw it happen and there was no point of denying…

---

Noel couldn’t take it anymore. The past week and a half had been so miserable it reminded him of his first days onboard, when there was nothing but uncertainty.

Ever since the night of the big storm, Julian has been avoiding his company by any means necessary: Either volunteering to do every odd job onboard, or sending Noel to fetch all kind of things from anywhere and everywhere on the ship (except from THAT cabin at the belly of the vessel).

When times came and they actually had to be in the galley together, Julian would sit on the opposite side of the room, doing his best impression of Tony the mute.

On the few occasions Noel tried to strike up a conversation, the cook gave him laconic answers, grunted under his breath or ignored him altogether.

But at nights, when Noel was on deck with the crew, Julian was still there, standing in the shadows. The cook was watching over him, he knew that now, but Julian would avert his eyes whenever they met Noel’s. Always looking out for him, but never looking at him.

Noel didn’t know at what hour it was that Julian finally went to sleep every night, but it was always long after he had drifted away into his restless slumber.

It seemed in what little time he had left (when he wasn’t watching Noel like a hawk yet avoiding him like the plague), Julian was busy contriving, devising and hatching a scheme: a clever plan to get Noel off the ship and away from him.

Julian wasn’t the only one avoiding him, but as oppose to the cook, whenever Merritt saw him and quickly turned away, Noel gave a sigh of relief.

Though the mere thought of the quartermaster sent shivers down his spine, Noel noticed that Merritt seemed absolutely beside himself with remorse.

He looked like a broken man, distraught by inner-turmoil: With wild hair and wet eyes, forever mumbling to himself, reading his bible, scribbling maniacally in his diary and reeking even worse than usual from his self-made Tater-booze.

Noel felt painfully isolated, and spent most of his days on deck, staring at the overwhelming vastness of the ocean. For the first time in months he thought of “early fall” manor and his poor parents, and cursed the rash stupidity that got him to this sad point in life.

I wish I never laid my eyes on that map…

I wish I never went to see Doherty…

I wish I never met…

But he couldn’t quite bring himself to think it.

---

The cook and his assistance were sitting in the galley, peeling potatoes and soon to be cleaning up fish.

The chore ahead was horrible enough for Noel as it is, and the silence only made it worse… It was like being slowly ignored to death, but with the added bonus of fish intestine.

From time to time Julian would get up and Noel’s heart stopped in fear he might go out to do some work elsewhere and never come back, leaving him alone in the kitchen with the fish and their sad, dead eyes.

However, on that specific morning, Julian came back… Holding a bigger knife, bringing the fish, carrying a pot… then sat right down on his stool, Noel’s eyes following him all the while.

As the minutes stretched into hours, yet not a word was exchanged, Noel became desperate. He was going to put a stop to this nonsense one way or another.

“So… what are we making today?” the young man donned his most casual voice. “Fried fish” Julian said, though it came out more of a grunt.

“Oh, so I don’t need to chop them?”

“No”

“Just to clean…?”

“Yes”

“By that you mean take out the entrails?”

“Aye”

“And scrape off the scales?”

“Yes”

“And take out the fishbone?”

“Yes”

“But not to slice them…”

“No”

“Not even chop off the tail?”

“Aye”

“Wait, yes to chopping off the tail…?”

“Yes…”

“… Or Yes to not chopping it off?”

“Wha…? I mean, no…”

“I don’t follow”

“Just leave the tail on!”

“And also leave the head on?”

“Yes”

“With the eyes and every…”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Noel, ye be doin’ this a thousand time!”

Noel’s eyes lit up. He was hoping Julian would find it funny, but he’d settle for agitation… Finally, a real reaction!

He needed to choose his next words very carefully, avoid saying anything too upsetting, anything that would remind him of that night, or he’ll drive him away…

“Sorry, sir”

He quickly lowered his gaze, but in the corner of his eye he could see Julian was discomforted by the way he referred to him. He continued, hoping to trick Julian into their first real conversation in days.

“The voyage is near over, isn’t it?”

“‘yeah”

“How long, do you reckon?”

“bout 6-7 days till we reach Singapore”

“The far east… Imagine that!”

“Aye…”

“It’s been a long journey hasn’t it?”

“Aye, I s’ppose…”

“It’ll be good to finally be on dry land”

“Yes it would.”

“Especially when it looks like tomorrow we’ll be heading for yet another storm…”

Oh, shit…

Both men got to their feet, a split second apart.

“Oh, god, please don’t leave!”

The words that shot out of his own mouth caught him by surprise.

No more games.

“I can’t take this anymore! Please, Julian, it’s like torture!”

Julian glared at him and Noel moved forward, his tiny frame pathetically trying to block the bigger man’s way.

“You want me to leave ship, fine, I-I will, I’ll do whatever you want… won’t cause any trouble, I promise…”

He felt like a child begging forgiveness after being told off.

“… But I can’t stay here, until that happens, with you ignoring me…

I-I don’t think I could bear it much longer…”

His voice broke mid-sentence and his ears seemed to have caught fire.

“Please, Julian, I’ve never been so alone…”

The cook stared at him with a concentrated frown.

Then, abruptly, Julian sat back down, not looking at the younger man, a bit lost in his thoughts.

Noel remained frozen for a few more seconds, until he sensed it was safe… He picked up the knocked-over stool and took his seat.

“Thank you”

Julian let out a heavy sigh… then looked up at the younger man.

“Look, I’m sorry.

I didn’t mean for ye to… I didn’t realize ye be… Anyway, I’m sorry.”

Noel felt a lump in his throat so he thought it best just to nod. The cook replied with a thankful smile.

A couple of minutes passed before Julian cleared his throat…

“I reckon I figured a way to get ye out of ‘ere.”

“Oh?”

“Aye. It’s a stupid plan… ye’ll like it”

Noel nodded once more and Julian resumed his carving. “I be tellin’ ye all ‘bout it soon. When everythin’s ready”.

For the next hour or so, the two men remained in silence… But it was of a different kind.

They sat in the kitchen, wordlessly doing their chores, exchanging grateful smiles.

---

“What then, Fieldin’?”

“Oh, we’ve been over this a million times! Then I give them a little show and dance”

“Show me”

“No”

It seemed like every spare moment in the past three days has been dedicated to The plan.

It was a simple plan that called for Noel to pretend to fall overboard at the end of a night of heavy drinking while secretly landing on the side boat. Next, sneak off back to the galley and hide for a couple of days in the pantry until the ship harbors in Singapore. Then, finally, escape the ship at night and find freedom.

Julian seemed to think it was a much more complicated scheme than it actually was and devoted all his time to making Noel go over, practice and rehearse it.

Despite the tedious repetition, Noel found the joint planning so bonding, joyous and resembling the good old days that he almost forgot the point of the plan was to do the exact opposite, and tear them apart forever…

“Show me what ye be plannin’ on doin’“

“Nope. You’ll have to wait and see”

“Don’t be stupid, I need to know that it works”

“Patience, cook, let me save something for the big night!”

“What do ye think this is, Squiffy, the globe?!”

“Keep pushing and I’ll think you just want to watch me dance”

Julian glared at him.

No? Too soon?

“Well, I reckon ye be ready then. Ye still be needin’ to practice the fall, but we still… have more t-time… for… that…” Julian tried to ignore Noel’s heavy sighing.

“WHAT NOW?”—But couldn’t.

“I just… I don’t know, it’s just so depressing…”

“Oh?” Julian raised an eyebrow and Noel was quick to explain.

“I mean, to hide in a cupboard for three days, all alone in the dark…”

“Ye won’t be lonely. I be talkin’ to ye all the time…”

“It’s too dangerous, what if someone hears you?”

“They be thinkin’ I lost me mind… From grievin’…” Julian momentarily drifted into his own private world.

“You thought of everything…” Noel sighed.

“It’s the best I could come up with, without them chasin’ ye”

“No, I know, It’s a good plan. It’s just…”

The two men fell into silence.

They did that a lot lately.

“Julian…?”

“Yeah?”

“I need a favor”

“Oh, aye?” Julain said somewhat worryingly.

“I want my map back”

“Wha……..!?!?!?!” Julian nearly choked.

“Yeah, I was thinking about it and I want it.”

“That be crazy talk.”

“Why? I found it, therefore it’s mine!”

“Why ye be needin’ that map? Ye be ESCAPIN’ in Singapore!”

Ye ain’t be goin’ on no treasure hunt!”

“I might be… If I can get a crew”

“Have ye learned nothin’?!

I ain’t gettin’ ye out so that ye could run right back in!”

“Fine.”

Julian grabbed Noel by his shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Promise me!”

“Alright! Calm down!” he shrugged him off. “But I want at least a copy of it. I want a souvenir!”

“Souve…? What, ye be French now?

“I want a memento!”

“How can a copy be a memento?!”

“Well, it can!”

“There be somethin’ wrong with ye…”

“It belongs to me!”

“That map brought ye nothin’ but trouble!”

“I just want something to remember… all this by” Noel mumbled avoiding Julian’s glare.

“Think ye’ll forget bein’ kidnapped to a pirate ship?! I reckon ye’ll be wearin’ the emotional scars like a tricorne!”

Noel raised his head and Julian never saw him look more determined.

“I’m getting it, end of story. Are you gonna help me or not?”

Julian growled but Noel knew it meant a “yes”.

---

“Remind me why this has to be now, when everyone’s still up and about?”

“Cause he locks his door at night, sproggy.”

“So? You’re a pirate, you’re supposed to know how to break into places!”

“Yeah, BREAK into places. When did ye hear of a pirate doin’ somethin’ discrete like? Smashin’ a door down? No problem.

Pickin’ locks on the other hand…”

“Oh, I wish you said something. I’m really good at picking locks. Used to break in my father’s storage halls all the time…”

Julian double blinked.

“I HAVE said somethin’! What did ye think I be doin’ when I be lookin’ at ye yesterday and all them sounds came out of me mouth?!”

Noel had been so happy Julian was speaking to him again, that he wasn’t overly occupied with what he actually had to say. It was enough just to hear his voice…

“Oh, I must’ve missed that”

“Did ye miss the part where I ended with the words ‘What do ye think, Noel?’ and you answered ‘Great plan’???”

“I said that…? I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, yeah ye did!”

“Barratt, is this really the best time to be having this conversation?”

Julian thought of the plans they had yet to execute. Surely strangling the boy now would bring a similar end result, but with much less hassle?

“What are we waiting for?

Barratt! What are you waiting for?”

“Oh, sorry…”

The two men took another look to make sure there was no one in the hallway and snuck inside Captain Mann’s cabin.

“Right, Fieldin’, ye go check thar and I’ll stay here on the look out”

The young man hurried to the chest of drawers that stood next to the captain’s table and started going through the drawers, one by one.

“Aw, I don’t know, Julian…”

“No, no, keep lookin’, I be pretty sure I saw him take it out”

“Oh, this one’s locked!”

“Son of a Biscuit Eater…”

“No, It’s fine. I’m good with them, remember?” Noel grabbed a dip pen off the table and jammed the tip in the keyhole. After a few twists and turns the lock succumbed to the boy’s touch and the drawer slid open. Noel quickly went through its content and couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice.

“Got it!”

“Quick, we haven’t got long before he finishes eatin’!”

Noel took out a piece of parchment from his pocket and started copying the map with the same pen. He did it in under 10 minutes but Julian could have sworn it took him an at least an hour.

“Come one, come on, come ooooon!”

“… Finished!”

“Smartly, put it back and let’s get out of ‘ere!”

Noel placed the map back in the drawer right where he found it and set to push the box back in… It wouldn’t move.

“I can’t… it’s stuck!” he said in a loud and nervous whisper.

Julian rushed over to him. The both of them started wriggling and pushing it. “Go to the door, Fieldin’, I’ll do this!”

Noel didn’t even have the time to move before the drawer pushed back in a slam and clicked shut.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

Both men turned around startled. Noel quickly put his hands behind his back, folding the copy into two, while Julian tried to look as if they were expecting Mann to walk in.

“Aaah, good evening captain!” The two men edged away slowly from the chest of drawers.

“What are you two scurvy bitches doing in my cabin?”

“We just be wantin’ to ask ye somethin’… about the food” Julian struggled to sound convinced.

“The food?… Were you trying to steal the map?”

“The wha…?! Julian let out a loud snort “Don’t be si… that’s ridicul…

NO!” the smile quickly evaporated from his face.

“Then why ARE you here?” the captain demanded and set down at his table.

“Erm, we came to ask if we can ‘ave some of the rum from the stock. There be non left in the galley… We thought ye’d be ‘ere.”

“You know very well I was eating… Did you come here to steal my rum?!”

“No! How could we be stealin’ it? Ye keep ‘em counted!”

“… It’s just that Julian came up with this new cabbage and fish recipe. Try and improve the taste by putting some rum in, it’s pretty good actually, and we thought we’d ask…”

“‘JULIAN’?” Mann’s face turned red and his eyes bulged out.

“I mean, Mister Barratt, sir… Master.”

Julian rolled his eyes and Captain Mann looked as if he was about ready to combust.

“But anyway, Captain, that’s not the main reason we came here. We have a proposition for you!”

Julian looked at Noel with wide eyes, slowly shaking his head.

“Well, this should be interesting…” Mann said and Noel ignored Julian’s scorching glare. “I was just thinking… I am very good with drawing and painting and sewing and embroidering and…

“Get to the point, boy!”

“Well, seeing how you’re a captain of a pirate ship now… don’t you think it’s about time you’ll have your own black flag?… With your very own Jolly Roger!”

“And you’re offering to make one for me?”

“Sure!

“He’s an idiot, sir, but he means no harm. We should probably go back now…”

The captain ignored the cook and didn’t take his eyes off of Noel.

“And what’s in it for you?”

“Oh, I’m just grateful for the chance you’ve given me…”

The captain raised his eyebrow.

“… AND we want to go back to the old breakfast hours!”

Captain Mann looked both intrigued and revolted.

“Pay no attention to him, captain. Lets go, Fieldin’…”

Noel shook off the cook’s arm, which was trying to nudge him towards the door. He took the piece of paper still in his hand, turned it upside down and placed it on the table.

“Can I use that?”

Before the captain had the time to respond, the young man took the dip pen from the table and started scrabbling on the back of the copied map.

“Remember this is just a sketch, but I thought it should look…

something…

like…

this!”

The captain looked at the skilful drawing of a bleeding heart with a Cutlass running through it and was speechless.

Julian looked like someone had just told him King George the second was a woman.

“That’s actually really good.” The captain said despite himself.

“That settles it then. Should I start working on it?”

The captain nodded.

“See, I told you he’ll like it! Barratt here thought it was a stupid idea.”

Noel grabbed the gawping Julian by the elbow and pushed him towards the exit. Then he turned back and snatched the piece of paper from the captain’s table.

“I’ll be needing that… for reference.” he said with a cheeky smile.

The two men quickly closed the door behind them, leaving Captain Mann to his thoughts.

“Blimey, Noel, that were amazin’!”

“Shhh! Keep your voice down, Barratt, you’re giving it away!”

The cook lowered his voice to an excited whisper. “I thought we be doomed back there but, my god… He’ll ne’er suspect now! Who knew ye could draw…?!”

“Well, I kind of did”, the young man said while they continued their way back to the galley.

“Right, yes, of course… that be good thinkin’, though. Very quick on yer feet… Bet ye can actually sew as well!” Julian shook his head in sincere amazement and Noel felt his chest brim with pride.

But then he remembered… No more plans.

In two days time he’ll “fall to his death” and be gone, forever…

Noel looked at the map and sighed. He delicately folded the copy in two and carefully tucked it in his pocket. Then he looked up at the cook who was still going on enthusiastically about arts and crafts…

---

The two friends were sitting, each on their respectable beds in the cabin, waiting for the storm to pass.

Julian looked edgy. Noel knew he was anxious, worried that if the continuous violent weather won’t stop they won’t be able to execute the plan tomorrow night.

Though he wasn’t a fan of the nausea, half of Noel wished this tempest would last forever…

Julian saw his friend take out the brass flask from his breeches’ pocket. He opened the lid, peeked inside, sighed in relief, screwed it shut and put it back in his pocket. Same as he did the previous 8 times.

Julian knew Noel had hidden the rolled up map-copy inside, but couldn’t understand why he had to keep looking at it all day long.

And when he wasn’t taking it out, his hand was absentmindedly touching his pocket to check if it’s still there… As if anyone could have taken it without him noticing.

The cook found it a bit too strange, but thought that was probably just his way of dealing with the pressure and fear.

“Hey, little man, don’t worry, it’s just a tiny storm. Nothing to be scared of”

“Uh? Oh, right, thanks…

“No problem”

“Ju?”

The cook was taken aback. He never called him THAT before.

“Y-yeah?”

“Do you remember that night we first met?”

“Yeah…?”

“You said ‘You get used to it in the end’…”

“Ok, if ye say so.”

“What did you mean by it?

“What? I… don’t remember”

“Cause it sounded like this thing happened to you too. Were you kidnapped here?”

“Kidna…? No…”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Are ye askin’ me how I got ‘ere, Fieldin’?”

“erm, yeah”

“Then stop beatin’ about the boosh and be out with it!”

“The wha…?”

“The bush, stop beatin’ around it!”

“You said Boosh”

“I didn’t”

“Ye did”

“I didn… It’s just ye pretendin’ people speak funny again! I was about to tell ye, but now I don’t reckon I will…”

“Oh, please, Julian, Please. I’ll shut up!!! I’ll…”

The ship shook violently and the cook saw Noel fight down a retch.

“… I be 12 when I got ‘ere.”

“12?! Blimey! Who the hell… How on earth did… Were your parents mean to you or something?”

“No, my parents died when I were 4… a fire at the plant.”

“Oh, god, Julian… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m sure they were amazing people… I just thought you ran away… I’m a horrible, stupid idiot…”

“Calm down, t’is alright. I didn’t really know ‘em.”

“Bloody hell, Barratt…” Noel shook his head slowly in amazement. “Where did you go?”

“After that I was in Saint Gregg’s orphanage…”

“Were THEY mean to you?”

Julian laughed. “No, they be very kind. Fed us and cared for us and even taught us how to read and write. But they be in heavy debts and eventually had to close the place down. The younger kids were sent to different orphanages and the older ones got sent to work in factories and such. I was the eldest so I was sold to this ‘ere ship.”

“S-sold you?! Blimey!

So, wait, that means you can’t leave forever?”

Julian smiled. He liked how Noel was hanging on to his every word with a gawping expression.

“No, it’s not like that… At first I was sad and angry and made some trouble. I reckon I be a bit spoiled…”

“You weren’t spoiled, you were a child!”

“But at the end ye understand this’d be a good job to ‘ave. Ye get food, a bed and ye get to travel the world. ‘Tis more then most people ‘ave… I decided I didn’t want to leave”

“But you can?”

“Aye, I s’pose I can. But where can I go? I’m old salt, ‘this all I know how to do…”

“But what will you do when they turn pirates?”

“We be pirates NOW, Fieldin’“

“No, proper ones. When you’ll start attacking ships and pillaging and that? You couldn’t stomach one kidnapping, how are you going to handle murdering and raping?”

“It wouldn’t come to that. Captain Mann is a decent enough Jack. He can abduct and steal alright but he can’t kill no one”

“I don’t know, Ju…”

There was that name again…

“Captain Mann don’t strike me as THAT decent…”

“Well, I know him for longer”

“Was he captain when you came here?”

“No. He be second in command then. Must’ve been 21 or somethin’. Very high rank for someone so young… Think what ye like about ‘im, but he took after me and saved me more than once.”

“Really?”

“Oh aye. When I first came ‘ere, he took me in and taught me everything he knew”

“What, melting cabbages?”

“Hush yer lips, monkey boy, I be a trained seaman!

“You are?”

Julian ignored Noel’s disbelieving tone of voice.

“And when I got injured he could’ve sent me off but instead the captain gave me work in the galley”

“You got hurt?! How? Where? When?!”

Noel could not contain his curiosity. There was so much he didn’t know yet about the cook…

“We were attacked about 6 years ago and I got hurt in me leg and I couldn’t move and I were useless to ‘im, but he kept me ‘ere still, and gave me this job instead.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with your leg!”

“Well, not now, but at the time…”

“I don’t understand, why are you still a cook?”

“It just stayed that way. It’s just the way it turned out”

“Why don’t you move to another ship then?”

“Why for? All ships are the same”

“You can start from the beginning and work your way up. I bet you can be a better captain than Mann. I bet he knows it as well…”

“Stop talkin’ of what ye know absolutely nothin’ about, boy. Ye be makin’ a fool of yerself!”

“Fine… But I still reckon you should leave. You hate it ‘ere… Don’t you want to be someplace that makes you happy?”

Julian always knew it. He just wasn’t one of those people.

Some folks were meant to be happy and some weren’t… Nothing more to it.

He learned at a very young age: When you’re born, you get a certain amount of happiness that is meant to last you a lifetime.

As fate would have it, Julian’s was just meager, that’s all.

So he rationed it, being very careful not to spend too much at a time, not to let all of it spill in one place, at a moment of recklessness.

He wasn’t destined to have a happy life…

But Noel was, and he KNEW it!

The littlest things made him delirious with joy.

Touching a new texture he wasn’t familiar with, spotting a strangely-shaped shadow that was cast on the wall, making up silly guttural voices in his throat…

Even in his darkest hours, Noel had an undeniable vitality and basic cheerfulness. He was downright squanderous with it, reckless even. But Julian admired his bravery, to the point of slight jealousy… Yes, Noel was bound for bliss.

Suddenly a loud explosion was heard from the side of the vessel and the ship rattled. Julian got up in an instance and Noel followed his move.

“No, you be stayin’ ‘ere!”

“Like hell I am!”

“Don’t argue, boy. I’ll go check what’s happenin’ and be right back”

“I’m coming with you, I want to f…”

“ALL HAND HOAY!”M

They heard the call and the shouting coming from the hallways and immediately stopped their talking. They rushed out of the cabin and joined the rest of the men…

---

The captain was anxious. He had an edgy crew on his hands and he was about to break some bad news to them. He didn’t want to, but too many people saw it happen and there was no point of denying.

The storm had hit them hard that night and they barely managed to extinguish that fire. And now the men were about to get the latest blow…

“Men…” he started, not quite knowing how to go about it.

“What happened here tonight was a test. A test to see how good we are as a crew… And let me tell you: you are the finest seamen in the seven seas!”

Julian was looking across the crowd at the boy, who appeared as charred and confused as the rest of them. Julian shook his head slightly as if to ask him what the captain wanted, and Noel replied by shrugging to signal he hadn’t a clue.

“This fire could have been the end of us, but you fought and that is why I am still here to tell the tale.”

What are they doing, exchanging looks like that…? There’s something going on, I’m sure of it!

What can it be?

They were in my cabin… He called him Julian…

“But something else has happened to us, during this storm” the captain continued, dreading.

He remembered the first time he met him, 16 years and 8 months ago. The boy was 13 when he was brought on ship and the captain assigned HIM, his 26 years old second in command, to show him the ropes. He was a scrawny, gangly boy with sad eyes, like one of them puppies.

“The storm has taken something from us!” he wondered if he was causing unnecessary tension… Maybe I should just get on with it?

The crew looked more confused than ever.

All this was HIS fault!

He recalled that, at first, the boy was rebellious and Captain Bains used to punish him severely. Bains was so vicious that he actually felt sorry for Julian. Sorry? For HIM?!

So he talked to him, advised him to clean up his act before he perishes from captain Bain’s flogging.

And it helped. He listened to him, and changed his ways and looked up to him.

HE did it! He should have left him to die under Bain’s beating…

“Men, I have to tell those of you who don’t already know that the lightning hit my cabin and the spirits caught fire and blew up!”

The crew blinked in unison.

“That means the rum’s gone…”

There was uproar. If anything was holding the men under control it was the booze.

The boy was gawping at Julian and HE was nodding back at him.

What IS this?!

“But remember, men, we have less than a week till we reach Singapore. Less than a week! We can hold strong till then!”

The crowd was angry still but the shouting subsided somewhat…

He wasn’t like the other boys Mann trained. He was quicker, sharper. Sure, he knew how to read and write only on a basic level, but he also asked the right questions and got to the right conclusions. He was a 13 year old orphan pauper and he learnt fast.

Faster then he did, well educated, well fed, well clothed, never beaten, when he first started at the age of 18.

“I have to be honest with you, crew, that’s not the end of it, I’m afraid…

After he became captain he often thought of sending him off or selling him away. But the thought of Julian working on another ship, slowly climbing the ladder, kept him awake at night. The idea of Julian thriving far away from his reach troubled his sleep. When Julian got hurt it was his chance. A chance to keep him close, keep him down.

“No, I’m afraid the fire burnt my cabin, and it burnt the map… The treasure map”

The men started moving in their place, edgy, violent… ready to pounce.

The boy was looking at Julian… Then a small smirk curled his lips. The cook wasn’t smiling but he had a certain twinkle in his eyes…

“NOW, CALM THE HELL DOWN!”… He HAD to shout.

“We KNOW it’s in the island of Bulan, on its eastern shore! So that unfortunate accident just means we’ll have to look in every cave on that coastline until we find it!

First we’ll have a nice rest in Singapore. Eat, drink and have a couple of nights with the lasses and then we’ll make our move.

The treasure will be ours! It’ll only take us a week longer, that’s all!”

The crew was restless but seemed less prone to violence.

“We can do this, men, we’ve been to hell and back and we will triumph again!

Are ye with me?!”

The people on deck let out an unconvincing “yeah” and immediately resumed their hissing.

“That is all, crew. You may go to sleep now.”

The crew started to head back inside, mumbling amongst themselves.

The cook and his assistance joined each other and walked away talking whisperingly, excitedly…

They were planning something.

They were planning something and he would find out what…

How DARE he keep secrets from him?!

The captain remained standing a while longer as the deck cleared of the men.

He called him Julian…

---

[nextpage title=”Chapter 4 – What’s so good about Goodbyes?”]
Chapter 4 – What’s so good about Goodbyes?

Author’s Notes:“Now, you have to be very careful with that! There be mighty dangerous people out there who be happy stabbin’ ye just for fun, so a bag full o… Mmmph!?!”

---

And there he was, on tip toes, grabbing the cook’s face and pressing his lips to his mouth…

An exhausted cook loomed over the heaving mass of blankets.

He put a gentle hand where the man’s back was and said softly “Time to wake up.”

The covers fell aside and a tired looking Noel emerged. “Yeah, I’m up, I’m up…”

Julian turned his back and let the young man silently get dressed. “Last day of kitchen duty, uh?” the tall man called over his shoulder.

Noel didn’t answer.

He continued to wriggle himself into his breeches, checking that the flask was still tucked away safely in its pocket, then he put on his pair of beaten boots…

They were brand new when he had come aboard, and now they look so altered. They’ve changed so much the boyl thought they were hardly recognizable. If he didn’t KNOW them to be his, he would have thought they were a different pair altogether…

He walked over to the cook and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Good morning”

Julian turned around and smiled “Aye, good mornin’. Sleep well?”

“Yeah” he lied.

“Ye be nervous about tonight?”

Noel shrugged. “Don’t know, I’sppose”

“Don’t be, ye’ll do great…”The cook placed an arm around the small man’s shoulders and pulled him in a strange and awkward half-embrace.

Noel felt like he could cry, but knew he probably shouldn’t.

He tore away from Julian, scratching his head and clearing his throat. “So, what are we making today, cook?”

“Oh, ‘tis an ol’ time favorite of yers”

“Is it fried fish?”

“‘tis indeed”

“Great!”

“Knew ye’d be pleased. After ye…”

Noel shuffled out of the cabin, and Julian closely followed.

---

Though the boy was sick and tired of kitchen duties, that morning he felt like he could do it forever. Even if it did mean being elbow deep in fish guts…

It was Julian who broke the silence.

“Amazin’ luck we ‘ad with the rum, ey?”

Noel looked up at the cook then quietly nodded.

“Reckon if we didn’t ‘ave a couple of bottles ‘ere, we’d ‘ave to steal some of Merritt’s urine flavored grog… Let me tell ye, gettin’ the guys drunk on THAT would have been a right struggle… With that and…” Julian lowered his voice “… the map, I reckon old lady fortune has a thing for ye. Ye be mighty lucky!”

“Yeah, I feel real lucky…” the boy lowered his gaze again and sighed.

“Hey. Noel!” the cook suddenly called in an enthusiasm that grated the boy’s ears.

“Yeah?

“Bet ye’ll ne’er be able to look at a cabbage again in yer life, uh?”

Noel gave a wan smile. “Yeah…”

“The first thin’ ye should be doin’ when ye get to town, is have a roast or somethin’.”

“Do they have that there, though?”

“I don’t know, why wouldn’t they?

“I think I read they only eat locus, and live octopuses and fried dogs and that”

“Wha…? Don’t be tuggin’ at me peg leg, boy!”

“No, I’m serious”

The cook shuddered from the image Noel’s words planted in his mind. After a second he shook the disgusted look off his face and continued.

“Still, it’ll be good goin’ to the market, buyin’ fresh fruits and food… Oh, that reminds me…!”

Julian darted pass the table to the largest cupboard, and started searching for something behind it. He pulled out his arm holding a sachet, and handed it to Noel with a triumphant smile on his face.

“‘ere, this is for ye. It isn’t much but I think ye can buy a few drinks and a ticket back home…”

The boy looked inside the bag holding all of the cook’s savings—some rolled up colourful notes and a few golden coins, and his heart exploded.

“Now, ye have to be very careful with that! There be mighty dangerous people out there who be happy stabbin’ ye just for fun, so a bag full o… Mmmph!?!”

And there he was, on tip toes, grabbing the cook’s face and pressing his lips to his mouth…

Julian pushed him away, an expression of insult on his face.

“What you be doin’? Ye don’t need to do that with me, I ain’t lookin’ for pay!”

“No, believe me, Barratt, I really, REALLY need to do this.”

“wha…?”

Noel pushed the tall man back against the wall and kissed him again, this time putting a lot more vigor into it. His tongue entered the other man’s gaping mouth without waiting for permission, twirling inside it with a sense of urgency.

Julian pushed him back once more, looking as if the boy had just slapped, not kissed, him.

“I SAW that look on yer face that night!”

“Yeah, well, Barratt, you could have chosen a better time for it. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

Noel took a slow step forward and the cook gulped. “Took me a while to realize the fact you ran away and ignored me, was your SCURVIED way of saying you like me. I waited for you to realize that yourself… But, dammit cook, I can’t wait any longer!”

The younger man placed both his hands on the cook’s chest and it rose as Julian gasped. Noel could feel the other man’s heart pounding wildly against his palms as he slid them under the cook’s shirt, touching the smooth warm skin.

Julian threw his head back, biting his lip, and Noel thought he saw a tear in his eye.

He took another half step and his body pressed itself against the taller man. His hands left the chest, slid all the way up to Julian’s hair and grabbed it by the roots with some force, making the cook gasp loudly.

Noel rose on his tip toes again and softly nibbled the man’s neck, breathing warm air into his ear. Julian was positively shaking now, but still his arms wouldn’t move and remained on both sides of his body with clenched fists.

The boy stopped his kissing and looked up at Julian’s face.

He looked tortured.

Noel withdrew himself by taking a big step back, and stared at the cook with his arms crossed.

The tall man remained frozen against the wall for a few seconds, before he took a breath, tilted his head down and looked at the boy, ashamed and confused.

“You need to get more involved, cook.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’m not playing with myself here…” Noel grinned with the naughtiest smile Julian had ever seen. “Anymore…”

“I-I…”

“Should I draw you a map, Barratt?”

The boy moved closer again sending his hand out to brush against the tall man’s mouth. He playfully tugged at the cook’s lips before pushing his index finger into the unsuspecting mouth. Julian’s eyes rolled back and he moaned as the young man shoved a second finger, slowly moving both digits and pushing them back and forth.

“Ummmmmphh, yeb tasd lige fish…”

“Oh, shit, sorry!”

Noel pulled out his fingers and looked at the cook. They both snorted simultaneously and broke into an uncontrolled giggle…

Now, with the tension somewhat lifted, the boy knew it was the right moment.

“I want you to come with me”

“What?”

“I want YOU to COME with ME.”

“Where…?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“B-but the plan only works for one man…”

“Oh, the plan… well, I’ll merely have to find another soulmate then. True loves are a ten a penny but good plans are just so god damn hard to come by…”

“True l…?”

Julian’s ears and cheeks turned bright red as he got a sudden rush of blood to his face.

Noel thought the sight of the grown man blushing was the single most erotic thing he had ever seen.

“We’ll switch plans, Ju. We can wait till Singapore and run away together… They’ll… they’ll think we went looking for the loot and try to find us in Bulan, but we’ll head the opposite direction…”

“… But what about yer treasure?”

“What about it? I don’t care about the stupid treasure! I don’t NEED the treasure!”

Julian felt dizzy as happiness, the likes he never knew in his life, flooded him.

“To hell with it, I’m spendin’ it all now!”

“Wha…?”

But before Noel even began to try and understand what the cook was talking about, he pulled the young man into his tight embrace and kissed him ravenously.

They stayed interlocked for a short eternity, mouths touching mouths—faces—necks; kissing and panting and groaning, hands desperately moving about, caressing everything in their way, trying to take in as much as they could, as fast as they could, to make up for lost months.

Then Noel pushed back, his breathing short and fast, but his expression stern and commanding.

“Undress me!”

The cook’s heart jolted so hard it nearly knocked him off his feet. He nodded in obedience and set about the mission with trembling hands, his fingers fumbling at the buttons of the white cotton shirt.

The mere idea of Julian, a man who can’t even button up his own shirt properly, undressing him was enough to make Noel come on the spot. But he knew better.

The cook hurried down the shirt and with each button unhooked, the boy’s heaving chest came more and more into view. Noel closely followed the cook’s every move as he finished with the buttons and set out to free the boy’s hands.

Once the shirt hit the floor Noel moved forward and pulled out Julian’s shirt, still half tucked in his breeches. The boy reached under the fabric for the belt and slowly undid its buckle. The touch of the hand fluttering against the skin made the cook’s belly retract and tighten as he held his breath.

Noel’s hands continued south of the waist and soon found the clothed bulge. He cupped it with his right hand, making Julian inhale loudly and his head jerk in surprise. The young man rubbed his hand against the cook’s growing erection and savored Julian’s reactions to his every little move, feeling himself go harder in the process. Then, still groping the other man’s manhood through the material, he grabbed the Julian’s nape with his free hand and drew him into a deep kiss, swallowing the cook’s gasps and moans.

“Well, well… don’t mind us!”

Behind the two men, who just burst into the cabin, the door slammed shut.

---

Julian, his loose blouse barely hiding his aching erection, turned around to front the two men across the room, while Noel grabbed his shirt off of the floor and hurried to get dressed behind him.

“What do ye want? Breakfast ain’t ready yet!”

The two men started slowly towards them.

Samson, the larger of the two, was built like a brick wall and just as riveting in conversations…

Noel first encountered him and his fist that day at the pub by the docks, but grown to not fear him in the months that past. He wasn’t a bad man, just very simple and obedient like a huge dumb dog… which made him perfect for heavy lifting and your standard bullying.

“We not be lookin’ for breakfast, Barratt…” the second man said.

The boy knew William very well. The man was around Julian’s age and his near white sun-burnt hair earned him the name “Milky Bill”. He was wild and loud and used to spend most of his nights drinking on deck, alongside Noel. He considered Milky a mate.

“… We be ‘ere for the boy.”

The boy stopped buttoning his shirt halfway through and peeked at the men from behind Julian’s shoulder.

The cook sent an arm behind his back and drew Noel closer.

“Why?” Julian’s voice was deep and suspicious.

“We just need ‘im to come with us”

“He’s stayin’ right here!” He filled his lungs with air, as if to better shield the boy.

“Ju, it’s alright, really…”

Without looking back at him, the cook grabbed Noel’s wrist forcefully.

“Ow! wha…?”

As always, Julian seemed to be three steps ahead of the boy. His face was pale and grim as if he understood something that wasn’t being said aloud.

“Stay close behind me!”

The two men picked up pace and were heading towards them fast.

Julian didn’t wait for them to make the first move and kicked William before he even had the time swing an arm or a leg. William stumbled back and Samson launched at the cook.

This was all moving too fast for Noel…

What the hell?

One minute he’s the happiest he’s been in his life, the physical embodiment of that still very much prominent, and now something he didn’t understand was happening around him.

Julian and Samson were wrestling in earnest, thumping and ducking and kicking and William was heading his way.

The cook momentarily let go of Samson to stretch out a leg. The blond man tripped and fell to the boy’s feet.

“RUN!!!”

The confused Noel started to stagger towards the door… looking back at the two men who resumed their fighting.

“Run… Go on deck… No, go to the captain… Go to the captain!!!”

The boy nodded and hurried to the door, trying to get there as fast as he can.

But as Noel reached the exit and looked at the scene, he froze.

The cook saw him from the corner of his eye. “Get the hell out of here, Fieldin’!”

“NO!”

Samson seized the opportunity made by Julian’s distraction to punch him in the gut. The cook folded and the huge man grabbed at his throat and pinned him to the wall, squeezing at his windpipes.

“I’ll… be… fine… RUN!”

Julian’s fingers pried at the hands wrapped around his neck as he tried to loosen the grip. When that failed he started punching the giant in the face and flailing his legs at all directions.

William got to his feet and started limping in Noel’s direction.

“No… el, go”

The cook’s voice was croaky and small…

Tears formed in the boy’s eyes as he watched his friend squirm and choke.

Julian’s thrashing subsided and his hands limply rose to grasp Samson’s tight fists once more.

“Stop it, you’re killing him!” Noel desperately screamed.

The cook was red in the face and he wasn’t struggling anymore, but the giant wouldn’t let go.

Noel turned to the approaching William. “Make him stop! Make him stop before he kills him! PLEASE!”

The blond man looked at the boy with a cold expression.

“Please, it’s me you want, right? I won’t fight. Just make him stop. Please!” Noel took a step towards milky.

William watched the boy as he drew near and called “AVAST”.

Samson nodded. He let go of the cook’s throat and Julian slumped to the floor gasping and coughing and clutching his neck.

William walked over to the boy, who didn’t even stir. “Thank you”

“Noel…” he heard Julian’s weak voice as he struggled to make a sound.

“Why… did… ye…” But before he finished the sentence Samson kicked him in the head and the cook fell face down on the floor.

Noel yelped and his hands rushed to his mouth in horror.

The giant sent a second kick, this time to the midriff, but the unconscious Julian didn’t move.

The young man stood nailed to his spot, looking at the cook with paralyzing terror. He would be alright, he knew it, but seeing him sprawled on the floor was just too much to bear. He couldn’t take his eyes off Julian, lying there, lifeless.

Then Noel felt something coiling, encircling his wrist…

He gasped as William secured the rope in a tight knot.

“W-what are you doing? I said I’d come peacefully…”

The blond man said nothing. Instead, Noel was turned around and the rope was wrapped several times around his other wrist.

“I th-thought we were m-mates…” The young man faltered and winced from the surprising pain, as his hands were bound behind his back and fastened together with three sharp tugs.

“I got me orders” Milky said, and Noel could suddenly feel his heart in his mouth.

Orders…

William left the boy and dragged his feet over to Samson. He mumbled something that Noel couldn’t quite make out and the both of them turned to look at the unconscious cook.

“N-No! You promised!” the boy struggled against the ropes, franticly trying to loosen them.

“Calm down, we ain’t gonna ‘urt ‘im”. The blond man called and returned to face the giant who whispered something to him. Milky shot a quick look at Noel, then at the cook, then back to Samson. “Nah, just leave ‘im ‘ere”.

While the two henchmen conversed, the boyl desperately worked the ropes… But the more he wriggled his wrists, the more he felt the cords gnawing into the flesh.

The bound man let slip a moan of frustration making William snort a sardonic laugh as he made his way back to him. “Aye, good luck with that! I be tyin’ knots for a livin’ e’er since I be 10.”

The man took hold of the boy’s elbow and signaled him to move for the exit. “Best not struggle, yer only be makin’ it ‘arder on yerself” he managed to whisper before the door flew open.

A third man entered the room and Noel’s legs buckled…

“We be just about to brin’ ‘im to ye!” Milky called.

Merritt said nothing.

He simply walked towards them without taking his eyes off the young man.

He bore no resemblance to the broken man Noel saw in the past ten days.

There was no confusion in his demeanor, no signs of sorrow on his face. He was calm and decisive, and his eyes dark and dead like a shark’s.

The young man felt cold sweat drip down his back. It was what he intuitively knew all along but dared not think.

The quartermaster stopped within a foot in front of him and Noel gulped. Merritt closely examined the boy’s face through squinted eyes and slowly shook and tilted his head from side to side, never breaking eye contact.

“S-so, is this what it’s all about?” the boy spat out the words with what he hoped was a steady voice. “Do you always need to tie up your… GUHHH!”

Merritt’s punch sucked out all the air in Noel’s lungs and he folded gasping.

It was happening again! His abduction, Merritt in the cabin, it was all happening again…

Noel saw the quartermaster pull out a dark piece of cloth from his breast pocket and move closer.

When the old man reached him, however, the boy started kicking and screaming wildly.

If he was doomed, at least make it as hard on them as possible… cause some damage… inflict some pain. Never again go down without a fight!

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

Merritt stumbled backwards trying to keep clear of the desperate thrashing, while

William moved from behind and wrapped both arms around the flailing man’s chest to keep him somehow in check.

“GET… OFF… MEEEEE…”

The boy couldn’t shake off the man holding him and saw Samson coming at him at a terrifying speed… But as the overgrown man reached him, Noel used William’s hold as leverage. He flung both legs with a jump, hitting Samson square in the stomach. The huge man flew across the room while Noel fell backwards knocking the unsuspecting Milky on his back, then lending on top of him with a loud thud.

The stunned William let go of Noel to hug his own chest and the young man seized the opportunity to stagger to his feet… the blond man stretched out an arm to try and trip him, but the boy acted fast. He kicked Milky in the gut and moved away quickly as a torrent of swearwords spilled out.

“SONOFABISCUITBARRELDIEYESCURVYDOG!”

Then it was Merritt’s turn and he launched himself towards the young man… but Noel was waiting for him. He greeted him with a knee in the groin. The quartermaster crumpled and groaned in pain, yet not a word was uttered.

William, red with anger, propped up on his elbows and searched across the room for Samson’s eyes.

“GET THE COOK!”

The giant nodded and heaved himself off the floor.

“NO!” To Noel’s surprise, both he and Merritt called out.

Obediently, Samson froze on his spot.

The boy saw the quartermaster straightened himself up with a grunt and advance towards him.

They acted simultaneously.

Noel was quicker and managed to throw the first hit. He kicked hard but he missed the knee and hit the man’s calf instead. Merritt stumbled but swiftly turned to the side and slogged the boy right in the kidney. His punch took Noel’s breath away and the quartermaster moved behind him. He grabbed the boy’s bound hands, twisted the wrists inwards and pulled them upwards in an unnatural angle.

The effect was immediate.

Noel felt his muscles tense, his back arch and his mouth fall soundlessly open.

It was as if the body, not the mind, instinctively knew resistance would only bring forth serious damage.

The smallest input on Merritt’s end made Noel gasp, and any struggle was met with pain. All he could do was obey: Noel was steered towards the nearby table and responded to the pressure by lowering his upper body.

But even when his face and chest touched surface, the quartermaster wouldn’t stop.

Merritt took one hand off of Noel’s wrists and used it to forcefully push the boy’s shoulders down, while the other hand continued to wrench the arms up. With no more room left to bend, there was nothing that Noel could do but suffer. And suffer he did.

The boy felt his arms slowly breaking and tears started pouring down his face.

Then, it was as if an invisible arm rammed itself down his throat and tore out a long bellow from the pit of his stomach…

The gut wrenching scream made William and Samson cringe, but the quartermaster didn’t even blink. With cold skillfulness befitting an undertaker, Merritt took the hand off of Noel’s shoulder and placed it against the boy’s open mouth.

Noel heard his cry muffle by his aggressor’s palm. He wriggled trying to shake it off, but that just made Merritt lean and draw the boy closer to him. He felt the quartermaster’s slow and heavy breathing and heard the man’s groans echoing his own, while his arms continued to be yanked out of their sockets for what felt like forever…

Then, an inch from the snap, Merritt stopped.

He let go of Noel’s hands and the boy’s body slumped down on the table. Finally, he took his hand off the whimpering man’s mouth, satisfied with wordlessly making his point:

In his sad predicament, the last thing Noel needed was broken limbs.

Resistance was futile.

Merritt crouched down to pick up the piece of cloth that now lay on the floor.

He loomed over the boy and Noel hopelessly shook his head, letting out a weak “no…” But the old man grabbed a fistful of his hair, and pulled his head back hard. And though Noel knew exactly what was coming, nothing could have prepared him for the sensation…

The quartermaster shoved the heavy fabric into the boy’s mouth and pushed it as far back as possible. Noel started to gag so violently on the piece of material that he was sure those were his last moments on earth. Fresh tears were filling up his eyes as he choked and retched, but the old man continued in callous indifference. He pulled out a second length of material, released Noel’s hair and let the head drop to the surface.

He pushed the cloth’s midsection into the boy’s mouth and tied the two ends tightly together at the base of the skull.

Noel couldn’t utter a word and could hardly even breathe. The quartermaster heard the boy’s faint moans and nodded to himself in content.

He then left his captive to look at his two henchmen who were slowly recovering from the beating.

Spent with the pain and lack of oxygen, Noel felt his body begin to shut down. He was drifting in and out of consciousness and was struggling to stay awake. Then, just for a second, he wondered what would be so wrong about giving in? About sleeping through whatever they had planned for him…

Noel’s legs doubled and his limp body slowly slid off the table.

Merritt caught him before he fell, then pinned him back to the table by pressing his arm against the small of the boy’s back.

This seemed to have snapped Noel back to life.

The quartermaster looked down at the man bent in front of him, silently shaking under his touch;

His ruffled half-buttoned shirt exposed a creamy white shoulder… his soft brown hair was wet with sweat… his big blue eyes were swirling in terror…

Merritt’s head spun fast and he lost his balance, a low guttural groan escaping his mouth. There he was, his beautiful boy, so docile, so tangible, so willing…

“Stop it! STOP IT! STOP IT!!!”

Samson and William exchanged bewildered looks.

The old man regained composure and bent over, hissing in his captive’s ear.

“I know what ye be tryin’ to do, and it isn’t workin’!

I know what ye be!”

Noel shut his eyes and silently whimpered.

The quartermaster signaled his henchmen and pulled the young man upright. Samson grabbed Noel by his arm, as Merritt took the lead and William limped behind them. Noel turned his head and took a last look at Julian, still lying peacefully on the floor, before he was yanked out of the room, into the horrifying unknown.

---

Noel was pushed forward into the dark hallway, being held upright by Samson as he was too weak, and trembling too violently to walk on his own. He was being dragged through the ship’s long corridors and he couldn’t hear anything but the thundering beatings of his heart.

Then he saw sunlight and was pulled up the stairs onto the deck…

The young man was cast forcefully to the floor but met it with a sigh of relief. He settled on his knees, held his head up and looked around him.

It must have been 8 or 9 o’clock in the morning, as the sun was already high in the cloudless sky. The sea was calm, a cool breeze was blowing gently and Noel closed his eyes in gratitude.

Then he heard Merritt’s voice and was pulled back to reality.

“AVAST YE!”

He opened his eyes to see the men stop their work intrigued by the scene about to unfold before them.

“By the powers, stop wat’s yer doin’ and gather ‘ere! “

Noel heard a few “What’s goin’ on ‘ere?” and “What’s the boy done?”, and suddenly it seemed the entire crew was standing there, towering over him and staring… looking curious rather than compassionate.

When the last of the men on deck joined them, Merritt started with a severe tone of voice.

“I bet ye be askin’ yerself wat I be doin’ ‘ere, lookin’ like dat and holdin’ ‘im so?”

A joint murmur swept through the crowd.

“Well, I be ‘ere to tell ye, we all be in grave danger!

Oh, aye!

For dat man sittin’ thar ain’t no innocent boy, oh no, but he be the devil ‘imself!”

Despite the pain, despite the gag, Noel let out a surprised snigger.

Surely he didn’t just say that?!

“I know wat ye be tinkin’! Crazy old Merritt’s finally lost it or he be drunk again. But dat ain’t the case, for I ne’er did see with straighter eyes!”

Merritt started walking up and down the deck, pacing his words accordingly.

“I too was like ye until a week ago… When god ‘imself came to me in a dream and showed me the truth!” Merritt halted for dramatic affect.

Noel looked around, but to his surprise the men weren’t laughing.

“Oh, yes. God came down and gave me some important answers.

Answers to questions I KNOW ye been askin’ yerselves!” He resumed his pacing.

“Questions such as:

Why we be ‘avin’ nothin’ but bad luck since we started dis voyage?

Why we ran out on food and be forced to eat pig’s grub?!

Why half of the men fell ill?

How ‘tis even possible we almost get spotted before our only stop in months?

Why we nearly burned and drowned?

Why we lost all the rum?!

Why there be barely a night without a bleedin’ storm?!”

Noel’s eyes nearly fell out of their sockets.

This is madness, they must realize that!?

“And now we lost the map…

We got ‘ere after all them blasted months and we don’t even know where the treasure be!

Why?

When did it all start?

And asked yerselves this: How is it dat our last cabin boy died mere two days before HE came on board?”

Merritt stretched his arm out pointing at Noel and nodded.

“Ye be a fool to believe it be a coincidence!”

The men let out a collective gasp… the boy looked at them, furiously shaking his head.

“Oh, how he be laughin’ at us all them months…

He was still laughin’ 5 minutes ago!”

Merritt looked away from the young man and stared into the crowd.

“But he don’t find it so funny no more… Now dat we know wat he really is!”

How can this be happening?

How can he, after all that’s been done to him, be the one up for trial?!

Why?

What did he ever do to deserve it?

Noel’s eyes glistened as tears formed and slowly started to stream down his cheeks.

“Don’t be ashamed, for we all be victims of ‘is evil magic!

Settin’ ‘imslef to look like a woman, winkin’ at ye, smilin’ at ye, wavin’ ‘is hair… Usin’ that laughter of ‘is to make ye feel special, make ye do tings for ‘im… controllin’ yer toughts, makin’ ye act like yer not even yerself… Possessin’ ye!

The quartermaster advanced towards the young man and pulled Noel’s head back by the hair. The boy winced, his breathing quickened by fear.

“Don’t be fooled by them tears. It is wat ‘e does. t’is how ‘e does it…

He be puttin’ his charm on us all”

The fact that nearly everyone there was more concentrated on Noel’s outstretched neck and heaving chest than on Merritt’s words was enough to prove his point.

The quartermaster let go of Noel’s head and the boy started screaming and swearing only to have the words swallowed whole by the cloth in his mouth.

“Ye know wat he be tryin’ to do now?

Tryin’ to curse us again. Tryin’ to send us more storms, more bad luck.

Dat’s how ‘e does it.

By chantin’, with ‘is li’l songs.

Ask yerselves, who sings about soups and bananas and monkeys and newts…? Who does dat but a WITCH?

Incantations summonin’ all hell on us!

Noel stopped his stifled shouting and dropped his head, not being able to look at anyone anymore. The old man’s fervent preaching trailed off, away from his ears…

He wanted to kick Merritt with all his might but didn’t wish to give the man an excuse to publicly beat him and tie his legs. He couldn’t give him that satisfaction.

So he sat there motionless, forced to play in this show of horrors, where he was the leading man, but had no means of changing the plot… of stopping it.

He was painfully aware of his body, positioned in submission, while Merritt paraded him around like a hunter with his captured wild animal.

The men’s looks stung his skin.

The incompetence ripped his entrails apart.

The humiliation burnt every inch of his soul.

He wished his tears to dry up but he couldn’t even will that to happen.

What a useless excuse of a man he was.

“… and planned to take the booty and claim this ship!!!” Merritt’s exclamations made their way back to him.

“We just came from the galley where we found ‘im doin’ ‘is worse, most Horrid evil…”

The crowd stirred with a boiling aggression. Even if there were a few men who didn’t fall for Merritt’s wild tales, they be damned if they were going to stop this drama now, short of reaching its exciting climax.

“Oh, aye!

We just caught ‘im bewitchin’ the cook into poisonin’ the food!!!

Stopped ‘em just in time!”

A gasp turned into a murmur that turned into a cry that soon took over the mob.

Noel lifted his head and desperately searched for milky. He caught his eyes and stared pleadingly.

You KNOW it’s a lie, tell them that, tell them that, please. HELP ME!

But William said nothing. He quickly turned his face away from the boy and stared at the floor.

Noel let his head drop again, sobbing.

“… T’is all a part of the evil trap set by this… This Lilith!

Now what say ye men? How do we pay this witch for what she’s done to us?

… Captain?”

The mass silenced with tensed anticipation…

Hope filled Noel once more and he raised his head to look at Mann descending from the gun deck down to the main.

The captain is a reasonable man, an educated man, an honorable man… Julian trusts him! He will put an end to this madness. The captain won’t allow this sort of things to happen!

“Well, I don’t know, quartermaster… from what I heard it’s a mad tale, one full of fantasy and monsters and biblical magic!

But truth is: it isn’t for me to decide… For we beBuccaneers and on Pirates ships we do it differently, don’t we, crew?”

“AYE AYE!” the mass roared.

“I say we put it to the vote!”

On board “The prince Vince” all hell broke loose…

---

Julian slowly came to, his face glued to the floor by a sticky substance.

He rose shakily to a seating position and carefully searched for the source of this flashing pain in his left temple.

It seemed the fresh gash was no longer bleeding but it was still very open and very much sore. The cook winced then looked around him.

He was alone in the empty galley. There were turned-over stools and drops of blood and water, perhaps sweat, on the floor.

How long was he out?

Seconds?

Minutes?

Hours?

And what happened?

All he could remember was that he and n… NOEL!

He jumped to his feet.

His far too quick of a move rewarded him with a wave of nauseated dizziness. He grabbed hold of the wall trying to regain balance and focus.

Then he heard it, above him, coming from the deck: A mass jeering.

Shouting something he couldn’t make out.

“RRhumb, rhumb, rhumb!”

Without a moment’s pause, Julian went out of the kitchen and down the dark corridor.

He felt confident Noel would be where the noise came from and not in some cabin…

He was sure of it… It had to be so… God, let him be right…

He stumbled his way through the long and narrow hallways of the ship, sometimes leaning against the walls for support.

“TLUMP, TLUMP, TLUMP!”

Julian couldn’t feel pain anymore and his eyesight was clear again.

He was so determined to get on deck as fast as humanly possible, that he never stopped to think what he’ll find once he gets there.

He turned the corner at a speed, the fear pouring new energy into his body.

The cook saw the sunlight peeking from the end of the passageway and knew he was almost there…

“PLANK, PLANK, PLANK!”

Julian felt as if someone stabbed him in the heart…

---

The cook didn’t know how he got there, but suddenly he was on deck, breathless and shaking.

He took in the scene stretched out before him and fought the instinct to retch.

The entire crew was on deck, huddled to one side, barking in unison. Merritt was standing on the steps leading to the forecastle, holding a bible and shouting incoherently. Some of the men were shaking a beam that extended over the side of the ship and laughing mockingly…. and there HE was.

Standing on the edge of the board, bound and gagged, eyes focused on his feet and crying hysterically.

Julian charged through the crowd, shoving and pushing his way to the boy.

Mid way through he was spotted by Milky Bill who grabbed his arm. Without missing a heartbeat, the cook turned, swung his fist and hit him in the face. William staggered and grabbed his bleeding nose, and Julian stormed onward.

A few of the men were now trying to seize him, but Julian went on. Kicking, pounding and goring anyone in his way, unstoppable.

Suddenly he felt himself being hugged from behind by a giant man in a bone-breaking squeeze. He wriggled one arm free and sent back an open palm towards Samson’s face. He succeeded in poking a finger into one of the eyes, which sent the bigger man screaming in horror. He let go of Julian and the cook leaned back for momentum…

“AVAST!!!”

Captain Mann fired his pistol above his head and everyone on deck held their breath… except for Julian, who sighed in relief.

He turned around to see Mann approaching him from the right, calmly recharging his pistol.

The captain stopped about three feet from the cook and stood still for a moment, studying Barratt’s anxious face.

All at once, the captain’s eyes lit up and a thin lipped smile spread on his face… Here was an opportunity more golden than any treasure!

Julian smiled back at him…

Mann stretched out his arm and pointed the pistol to Julian’s shocked face.

“CLICK”

He cocked his gun and nudged the barrel against Julian’s right temple, forcing the cook to look straight ahead.

As Julian turned his head, he saw the boy was now standing upright and focused on him…

As their eyes locked everything turned silent.

There was no wind blowing,

No waves crashing,

No words called by the crew,

He couldn’t even hear the sound of his own heavy breathing…

The boy looked pale, dirty and roughed up, but he had stopped crying. He stared at Julian and seemed calm, even serene.

They gazed at each other with big wide eyes for who knows how long.

Then Noel smiled sweetly, as if to say “Don’t worry, Ju, it’s all going to be alright”.

Julian’s eyebrows rose and the corners of his mouth slowly curled upwards…

“NOW!”

The men heard the captain’s order and resumed their rocking. Noel swayed and fell off the board, disappearing behind the side of the ship. The splash of the water closely followed.

The cook let out a tiny gasp, then froze.

Was that it?

So quiet, so simple, so quick?

Julian blinked.

No, no. Noel would never go like that! He’d have it a lot more dramatic. Accompanied by at least a drum roll, if there’d be no canons available…

This is obviously a mistake.

He closed his eyes, expecting to see Noel in front of him when he opened them again.

He wasn’t there.

Julian blinked again and again and again…

Then it hit him! This was all a part of the plan, Noel’s elaborate show and dance routine!

Maybe he was already waiting for him back in the galley, hiding in the cupboard?

Maybe… maybe it was all… maybe Noel just… Oh, god… Oh, God, no, no, no…

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!“

Julian’s blood curdling howl ripped the sky and he charged forward, determined to join Noel or die trying.

But he didn’t get very far.

“No, no. Not you. YOU’RE staying here…” the cook heard Mann say, before the captain hit him over the head with the butt of the pistol, casting darkness onto Julian’s already pitch-black existence.

---

[nextpage title=”Chapter 5 – The cook’s lament”]
Chapter 5 – The cook’s lament

Author’s Notes:He didn’t feel like giving the crew anything that wasn’t delivered at a considerable speed by a cannon and he knew there was no reason in the world to make it easy on them.

---

And there was certainly no reason to make it easy on himself.

Noel could still hear the crew jeering as his feet tore the surface with a loud splash. Then the water quickly closed over him and he was pulled down with a horrifying WHOOOOOSH pounding in his ears.

It was a long fall.

When it finally slowed, he kicked as hard as he could and swam towards the light.

After what seemed like forever he broke the sea cover and took a loud and desperate breath.

The cloths still in his mouth were soaked and he couldn’t help but intake water with every inhale. This made him cough and panic even more.

The last thing he needed was to gag. If he threw up he’d choke on it, and he knew it.

Calm down, calm down. You can do this.

It took him a good couple of minutes before he finally managed to settle his breath.

He needed to assess his situation and took a look around him.

Wide open sea, no seagulls, islands or other vessels in sight, hands tied, can’t even cry for help…

They sure wanted him dead, didn’t they?

Julian was right about them… God, Julian! He really needed to stay focused if he wanted to save him.

Ha!

How are you planning on doing that, when you can’t even save yourself?

Well, it could have been worse, he thought.

They could have tied up your legs, blindfolded you, they could have hanged you, keelhauled you… All things considered, you were pretty lucky!

He let out a strange chuckle. Was he laughing or crying? He wasn’t entirely sure.

At least the sea was quiet. There were no storms, no strong winds and no waves.

As long as he stays afloat he’s going to be alright!

Don’t think of sharks, don’t think of sharks…

Noel knew nothing about the properties of rope, but he hoped the water would eventually loosen the binding cords.

It didn’t, the time that passed made that perfectly clear. If anything, the knots felt tighter… or maybe it was just the pain taking its toll? The truth was, he wasn’t sure his arms would function even if they weren’t tied together… who knows what damage he suffered?

He’ll have to continue and make do without them. Use his legs.

He can do that, easy! He is a good swimmer after all!

He was reminded of all those summers spent by the lake. How he tried to impress the ladies by jumping into the water from some tree, or by crossing from one bank to the other then back before they could count to 30… How the girls giggled and blushed in adoration as he came out, wet, breathless and brimming with pride.

Yes, he was a good swimmer.

He’ll just have to keep swimming. You never know what’s round the corner…

What corners, you idiot? It’s the ocean!!

Something has to happen! It has to! This can’t end here. Not like this…

Something will come up, it always does!

Noel found he couldn’t really swim for long periods of time without the use of his hands, so he floated on his back and paddled with his legs. It didn’t really advance him anywhere but, by god, it felt so much less like drowning.

Whenever he felt strong enough, he tried swimming again, but that never lasted long and he resorted to floating again, preserving his strength and settling his breathing.

Keep going, just to keep going…

If initially the slap of the ocean’s cold water woke him up, invigorated him, now that the adrenalin faded he was becoming more and more tired.

Noel felt his skin burn in the ruthless sunlight and the sense of thirst was unbearable.

Don’t stop, stay afloat, keep going…

He swam for eight hours straight. Or maybe it was seven, or only five, he really couldn’t tell anymore… But after long hours, he finally succumbed to exhaustion.

He couldn’t support his back and was too weak to keep his head above water. His legs continued to give more kicks but the moves were too weak and far apart to keep him afloat.

He closed his eyes and mouth as his head quietly disappeared underwater.

I’m sorry.

---

The two dolphins were peacefully swimming along, enjoying the after-noon sunrays, when a strange body fell by them.

The smaller dolphin looked up at the sea surface.

“Oy, stop throwing humans! If you can’t stay on the fucking wooden thing, don’t get on it! It’s not like you have any business being in the sea in the first place…”

“Who are you shouting at?” the larger dolphin asked “There’s no one there!

And why do you always get yourself so worked up?” the dolphin continued, though it knew it was a lost cause.

“They keep spilling over, I don’t fucking get it”

“Just ignore it!”

“Alright, I will!”.

But the smaller dolphin couldn’t help it for very long. He soon took a look at the creature slowly and continually descending…

It was clearly still alive: It gave an unconvincing flap with one of its weird fins and let out air bubbles from two tiny blowholes located in his odd snout.

There was something about him…

“Are you coming?”

“In a second!”

The dolphin was mesmerized by the human, who had now opened its eyes and was staring at him.

He was so white he was positively glistening in the afternoon light.

His eyes were big and blue, as blue as the ocean itself, and they had a sad look in them.

He looked like a puppy seal.

And unlike the others that fell before him, he seemed smooth and soft…

“Are inter-species relationships always doomed?”

The larger dolphin gave the aquatic equivalent of a sigh. “We’ve been through this…”

“I know, but… just look at it! Can’t I keep it?”

“NO!”

The dolphin grunted water and circled around the helpless creature one more time, examining him carefully… probably looking for another, larger, blowhole.

The human winced in an incredulous and horrified look, then let out a single air bubble and rolled its eyes shut.

“So… are you gonna save it or what? It hasn’t got long, you know.”

“I suppose. But that’s the last one!”

“Yeah, yeah, you say that every time”

“This time I mean it, you’ll see!”

---

The two dolphins worked hard at the thankless job. They swam fast for miles, keeping close to the surface, constantly but gently bumping up the human so his head stayed mostly above water. It looked scared and confused and a bit suspicious of some of the smaller dolphin’s accidental ill-placed nudges, but at least it was alive and awake.

Then, as it was getting dark, they saw a small Chinese fishing boat and left their bound delivery to tangle in its net.

The two fishermen could not contain their excitement as they pulled the mesh from the water. They rubbed their eyes in disbelief and gasped in amazement…

“美人魚 ! 美人魚 ! 美人魚 !”

They were, of course, wrong, but with no ships or land in sight, who could blame them for thinking they fished a mermaid?

---

“Show me the monkey dance, No!”

The morning after the trial, the cook was burning up. His fever was running high and he was delirious. The ship’s doctor, now sober for the first time in 5 years, was thankfully able to treat him. He assured the captain the mad ramblings were due to the high temperature rather than the two blows to the head.

“But will he be alright?”

“Aye, he be out of Davy Jone’s grip, if that’s what yer askin’“

“When will he be strong enough?”

“A week, maybe two”

“I HAVEN’T GOT TWO WEEKS!”

The captain immediately restrained himself. “How about 3 days? Could he be ready in three?”

“This isn’t a negotiation, cap’ain. I can’t guarantee when he be well enough, only time will tell.”

“But it’s possible, yes?”

“Well, aye, but at the moment it seems mighty unlikely ye could get anythin’ out of him so soon: He be too weak, doesn’t respond to people, has wild hallucinations and be talkin’ nothin’ but crazy talk.”

“He’s strong, I can count on that… he’ll be ready on time.”

“Suit yerself” the doctor shrugged. Captain Mann was in one of his determined moods and if experience taught him anything it was that you can’t talk sense into him when he’s like that.

The cook tossed and turned violently. He was sweating and sighing and mumbling, with sudden loud outbursts. Repeating the same three sentences over and over again, while hopelessly fighting his covers.

“Where you be goin’, No?

No, No, No….

The boat is on the other side, No!

NOOOOOOOOO!!!”

The doctor shook his head in concern as the two men left the room.

“See? Notin’ but crazy talk.”

---

On the second day, the ship anchored in Singapore and Julian woke up from a bad dream rattled and confused.

God, that really was a nasty piece of nightmare…

He let out a long sigh of relief as the clouds of haze scattered and he realized he was safely tucked in bed.

Best not think of the dream anymore, he decided, especially as he was feeling ridiculously hungry.

He rubbed his eyes and pulled himself up to a seating position when it hit him… sights and sounds resurfaced. Alleviation replaced within a split second with the sheer horror of realization.

The pain washed over him like a tidal wave, pulling him down fast, and he couldn’t breathe.

He was alone and he was drowning.

---

In those two days that passed since his fever subsided, Julian lay on the bed, drifting in and out of a nightmare…

Seeing as the danger was behind him, the cook was now expected to regain his strength and he was mainly left alone in that cabin at the belly of the ship.

From time to time the room was briefly invaded by one of the men—who pointlessly brought him food or cleared his bedpan, and the doctor who checked up on him.

Why was he being kept alive? He wondered… when he was clear minded enough to think.

He would never be allowed in the kitchen again, amongst the knives and fire. There was no way they’d let him resume his job as cook, or do any other duty on board for that matter, so what use was he to them?

Was it the captain’s respect for him that was protecting him, or was it something altogether different?

---

It was dark when Julian woke from his shattered sleep on the fifth day by the sound of the door slamming, and assumed it was the evening or night time. He turned around to see the room entered by two figures, their outlines he knew all too well. Samson remained by the door while Captain Mann advanced towards the bed. He stopped and stood still, intermittently lit up by the flickering, pale light of the lamp that hung on the wall.

“Hello Barratt” he said serenely.

The cook said nothing. He wasn’t sure he remembered how to speak anyway.

He looked up at the captain and saw him pull up a stool and sit himself down close, with a heavy sigh.

“You know why I’m here, don’t you?”

The cook shook his head to signal he didn’t.

He wasn’t really lying, because he may have had his suspicions but he didn’t know for sure.

“You two stole the map, didn’t you?”

Julian gasped. He used to fear the moment that Mann caught up about the map, but it all seemed so ridiculous now.

“No.” he croaked.

“No, of course not. I meant you copied it.”

“… No.”

Julian lingered a split second too long to make his answer convincing and a smile spread across the captain’s face.

“Don’t lie to me, boy. You were in my cabin and you were constantly sniggering ‘tween yourselves. I know. Can you get it for me?”

The cook fought against the rush of pain as a succession of images of the boy flashed through his mind.

“No”.

The captain leaned closer, assuming an affable tone, as if he was confiding in a friend.

“You do know I had no hand in the boy’s… fate, right?”

Julian turned his head away.

“By the time I got there the trial was over and the men were already too frantic to control. It was either allowing them to go through with it or be up there on the plank with him. And you. They wanted you to go next. I had no choice but to go along with it. I hope you realize that.”

The cook shut his eyes.

It did make perfect sense. The crew was on the verge of a mutiny, and Mann worried about his position as captain, as well as his safety, maybe even the safety of the entire staff of command, he needed to let them have their way just this once, he had little choice in the matter… yes, it was all plausible.

But nothing forced him to turn the gun on Julian, to make him watch…

And nothing can explain that glint of joy in his eyes as he did it.

“Will you help me, Julian? Will you get me that map?”

The cook turned his head to stare straight at Mann’s face.

“We made a copy”

The captain’s eyes lit up “Yes? Yes? Can you bring it to me, my boy?”

Julian’s mouth curled into a contemptuous smile.

“It was on ‘im… when ye threw ‘im off board. He took it down with ‘im to meet ol’ Davey Jones..” He felt his voice start to break. “Ye be welcome to follow ‘im!”

The cook saw the color instantly fade from the older man’s face and he turned away, biting his lip hard to stop himself from crying.

Silence fell over the cabin, and Julian could almost feel the steam emitted off the captain as he fumed in frustration. He started pacing up and down.

“How do you know this?” He finally asked, barely holding himself back from shouting.

“He carried it everywhere, in a flask.” The cook replied dryly without turning back to face him.

“In a flask?” The captain demanded.

“Rolled in a flask… for safe keeping” Julian snorted bitterly.

“So, so, how do you know the map was even in it? It has to be somewhere on the ship!”

The cook grunted impatiently and turned to face him again. “I know because I have seen ‘im take it out to look at it, then roll it into the flask again, a thousand times a day.”

“But-but, are you sure it was the right map? Maybe it was another map!?”

“Leave it, captain, ye be wastin’ both our breaths. I’ve seen it a thousand time, it was the treasure map alright, I would know it anywhere, there is no doubt ab…”

The captain stopped dead in his tracks and the cook’s look caught his glare. Julian could SEE the thoughts racing behind those eyes, forming into conclusions, and there was nothing he could do to stop them.

“You know it by heart, don’t you, boy?”

“N-no”

“You can draw the map yourself, can’t you?!”

“NO!”

“Yes, yes you can… and you will!”

“I don’t know what ye mean” Julian pointlessly insisted but the older man wasn’t convinced. He didn’t seem enraged, but animated.

“Now, this is what’s going to happen, Barratt. I will get this map from you, one way or another. And you can choose which. Do you understand?”

The younger man stared at him blankly and said nothing.

“Are you going to be a good boy and play nice or are you going to make it difficult on yourself?”

“I don’t know what ye mean” the cook replied without blinking.

“Suit yourself” the captain said with a loud and pained sigh and shaking his head mournfully. But as he left the room with Samson at his heels Julian could have sworn he heard the captain whisper “thank you” through smiling lips.

---

On the sixth day, Julian was awakened by Samson, who burst into the room and wordlessly grabbed him and flipped him over on his belly. He was rough and sharp and Julian guessed the henchman’s eye must still be sore.

The cook offered no resistance as the giant tied his wrists together behind his back, then his ankles, and dragged him barefoot and in his breeches out of bed. Samson slumped Julian on a chair in the middle of the room, secured him to it with yet another rope and left.

This is interesting…

His heart was pounding while long minutes passed and no one came into the room. The captain was definitely putting on an impressive show for him.

Well, he’d be the sort of man who prefers a captive for an audience… Julian surprised himself by chuckling at the thought.

He should probably just draw Mann the map.

He knew it by heart and he didn’t need it or care about the stupid treasure anymore… But why on earth would he help?

He didn’t feel like giving the crew anything that wasn’t delivered at a considerable speed by a cannon and he knew there was no reason in the world to make it easy on them.

And there was certainly no reason to make it easy on himself.

He sat alone in the room waiting, shifting on the chair and wriggling his arms. The ropes felt tight against his wrists. It was uncomfortable, but not as painful as he had thought… as he’d imagined.

What felt like an hour passed before Captain Mann finally entered the cabin, accompanied by Samson and wearing a carefully designed expression of sorrow on his face.

“Julian…” The captain nodded. “I trust you slept well and you’re feeling alright”.

The cook ignored the pretend question and merely followed the captain with his eyes as he approached him.

“What did you decide? Are you gonna behave like a sensible man?

Are you going to give me what I want?”

The cook’s heart quickened and he sighed his answer. “I don’t know what ye want from me”.

The captain clenched his fist and took a deep breath.

“I just want the map… Please, Julian, don’t make me hurt you.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help ye, sir”.

The slap that closely followed threw the cook’s head hard to the right. He quickly turned it back and raised his eyes to look at the captain, shocked.

He knew it was coming, so why was he so surprised?

His eyes became wet. It wasn’t the pain that hurt him, though his cheek was stinging, but the power of the intent behind the slap. He was flogged many times in his life, but it was never as painful, as insulting… or indeed as enlightening.

“Will you draw me that map?”

Julian coughed away the tears before they managed to overflow.

“I don’t know how to help ye”.

He was ready for that second slap and it didn’t hurt nearly half as much as the first.

“Don’t try my patience, cook. Will you draw me the map?”

“Ye be confused. Only one man could draw ye that map and ye threw him off boa…”

He couldn’t even feel the third slap as it fell across the same place as the previous two, though the warm and salty sensation that quickly spread in his mouth told him that he was bleeding.

Mann looked at his heavy gold ring and back at the cook’s cut lip, and sighed.

“You realise it hasn’t begun yet, cook, yes? Just a little taste of what’s to come. This is your expertise, isn’t it? Try to think of it as an appetizer, COOK, before I start serving you the main course.”

Julian rolled his eyes and grunted. Nothing can more painful than Mann’s jokes, surely?

“You can stop this. Easily. Before it even starts. Will you draw me the map?”

“I can’t help ye” The cook shrugged.

“As you wish!”

The captain signalled Samson and both left the room. This time Julian wasn’t left wondering for long. Within a few minutes Samson and Johnson, yet another member of the pack of scurvy dogs that were once his friends, came into the cabin pushing a barrel filled with dark, murky fish waters. The cook’s heart missed a beat.

I’ll be picking out scales from my hair for 3 weeks after that… he smiled to himself.

Johnston approached the cook and used his cutlass to severe the rope fastening Julian to the chair. Then he hoisted the bound man upright and dragged him towards the barrel, clumsily and unceremoniously. It was at that point that Mann stormed back into the room, visibly impatient. The cook’s heart was thumping in his chest.

Show time.

The captain gestured the men on both sides of the cook and each immediately grabbed an arm.

“Last chance, Barrratt, will you draw me the map?”

“I don’t know what ye mean” Julian replied and took a deep breath.

The water was cold and thick and disgusting. The cook shut his eyes and mouth as tight as he could and waited… Some long moments later, the hand on his hair tightened its grip and he was pulled out.

When he opened his eyes and took a loud breath he saw the captain staring at him, examining his face.

“Well?”

Julian momentarily stopped his panting to shrug at Mann.

“They say dead men draw no maps”

The second encounter with the contents of the barrel was longer and harder. He was running out of air and his body started twitching and wriggling wildly on its own. The hand at his head was struggling to keep him down and another, bigger one, joined to help it by pushing at his shoulder. Then he was pulled out and he gasped desperately.

Mann grabbed him. “I’m warning you, cook. The next time won’t be as merciful!!!” He paused, studying his face. “WELL?!”

“What… was… the question… again?”

Mann’s eyes were bulging out when he cued the two men to shove the cook’s head in the barrel once more.

Julian was already out of breath and the cold water was pounding in his ears.

Persistent hands kept his head in place despite his desperate struggles, and by instincts he couldn’t control anymore he opened his mouth to inhale. The water quickly filled his mouth, making him violently choke. His entire body jerked and panic, real, deep, primal panic, took over every inch of his being. But relentless hands were determined to keep him under.

Then a thought that went through his mind sent everything limp and quiet.

This is what Noel felt.

“Captain? CAPTAIN?! He ain’t movin’ no more!”

Though feeling cheated, the captain reluctantly signaled the men and within seconds the semi conscious cook was out of the water and on the floor. He sat slumped against the barrel, coughing water, overwhelmed by the revelation.

“Barratt? Barratt? BARRATT?!”

“Em, captain? Maybe we best be stoppin’ now?” Johnson mumbled as Mann shook his captive. The captain shot him a dirty look that scared him to the bone, and immediately turned his attention back to the cook.

“You will give me what I want, YOU HEAR ME?!”

He stood up and pulled the cook, then forcefully pushed his head in the water, again and again and again…

After seeing he wasn’t getting any results, he gave Samson new instructions.

The giant man obeyed by cutting the cook’s hands loose. The dazed cook stood there swaying and panting and made no attempts to struggle. The henchman grabbed both his wrists and tied them together to the front, then took a long rope and looped one end between Julian’s hands. He pushed him to the middle of the room where he threw the other end of the rope over a ceiling beam and pulled it till Julian’s arms were raised overhead, then he secured it to a bolt in the wall.

Mann nodded in approval, went out and came back holding a whip.

The men were then sent out and ordered to stand and “guard the door”. They stood there for hours, resentful for not touring the brothels of Singapore with the rest of the crew.

They could hear the captain’s repeated loud questions, then horrible gut-wrenching screams, followed by silence and sometimes a laugh, which they mistook for Mann’s.

“YOU WILL GIVE ME WHAT I WANT!!!” The captain echoed himself.

But the cook wasn’t in a state to give him anything. He seemed in a place of his own, eyes staring into space, glazed.

When Mann finally gave up he called the men into the cabin. “I’ll let you rest now” he spat his words in the cook’s direction. “After all, tomorrow is a big day for you and you must save your strength…”

Though he used his most threatening voice, Julian barely blinked in response. The captain let out a frustrated grunt and stomped out.

Samson cut the cook down and carried him over to the bed then gently laid him on his belly. He covered him with the blanket and left the cabin. Julian made one clear determined decision before he passed out, spent.

Tomorrow I’ll struggle.

---

It’s early in the morning of the seventh day. I come into the room just as the visibly agitated Samson leaves it.

The atmosphere is different this morning and I can’t quite give it a name but it’s very much felt.

HE is sitting on the chair, just as I instructed, but he is rocking and growling wildly between heavy breaths. There are fresh cuts on his face and judging by Samson’s bruised mug, I’d say he gave almost as good as he got.

My prisoner finally acknowledges me standing here and stops his struggling. He looks up at me, eyes so full of hate I just want to run up to him and grab him, and shake him and, and… I don’t know what exactly but I just need to do it.

I don’t.

“Good morning, cook” I say and immediately regret it. Should have gone with something colder… The tone was good, though. I think.

I’m not the least bit surprised when the prisoner doesn’t respond. It still enrages me, but I must keep up appearance.

“I hope after yesterday you came to see sense”.

He doesn’t answer.

“Will you draw me the map?”

Nothing.

“Draw it and all this goes away. I’ll set you free”.

He says nothing but one of his eyebrow rises. He knows I’m lying.

“Last night was nothing. If you don’t draw me the map, by god, I will give you such pain you’ll be begging for another flogging just to ease it!”

This I mean, but the prisoner doesn’t look impressed.

I grab his hair and push the head back, exposing the neck. There’s a sharp intake of air when I do that.

Ha! Can’t ignore that, can you?!

I draw my cutlass, put it to his throat, stroke him with it.

“I’d make you wish you were never born”

The neck position makes it hard for him to do so, but nonetheless the prisoner snorts.

My hand trembles at the base of the knife. “Will you draw me the map?!”

My captive rolls his eyes away, looks at the room.

How dare he?!

“Simple question: YES OR NO?!”

Silence.

Then he makes a hissing sound as the tip of the knife breaks the skin and draws blood.

“You can stop this, boy. Stop me.”

He shuts his eyes, says nothing.

How dare he ignore me? This isn’t a game!

“THIS ISN’T A GAME!!!”

The cut now runs from the base of his jaw nearly to his Adam’s apple. The blood trickles down.

He bites his lower lip, eyes still closed. Smiles.

What the hell is this?!

I abruptly remove the blade, let go of the hair.

The captive opens his eyes, looks surprised… disappointed even.

I head towards the door and call in the men. I hold the door as Johnston and Milky come in the cabin carrying a large, steaming pot and set it on the table next to him.

I smile at my prisoner.

“That’s boiling oil, Julian. In case you were wondering.”

Deep down I know he wasn’t.

“This is pain beyond anything you ever experienced” I say. I pick up the ladle off the table and signal the two crewmen to leave the room. I see them exchange uncomfortable looks but they soon obey.

“This is your last chance to stop this. What do you say?”

He isn’t saying anything.

“This is the point of no return, boy…”

I’m not quite sure what to do. I thought about this a million times but now that it’s finally here—I’m a bit lost. I hide my shakiness and dip the ladle in the oil. Then I pull the head back by the hair and tip the spoon over quickly.

The splat of oil hits the chest and at first there’s silence but then the prisoner lets out a horrifying scream and his body spasms violently.

Oh god.

Oh god.Oh god.Oh god.

I immediately drop my grip and the head falls forward.

I need to speak. I have to say something now or he’ll know.

“There’s a pot full of this, boy. A POT full! Now, have you got something to say?”

He doesn’t even raise his head to look at me.

“Draw the map, or so help me god, I will make you bathe in this!”

Why do I still so desperately care?

I don’t really need that map anymore… Not now they’ve reached Singapore and the crew has been spending all their days eating and drinking and exploring the whorehouses. Nobody cares if it’ll take them a day or a week to find the treasure now that they have all their needs met.

But I care. I need to finish this.

A moment later, I dip the ladle and grab his hair again. It’s wet and stringy with sweat. I take my time pouring the oil onto him.

The prisoner’s entire body jerks and his uncontrolled movements make the oil largely miss his chest and hit his right shoulder.

He lets out deep, loud bellows that don’t even sound human and tears burst out of his shocked, wide open eyes.

Then there’s no more oil in the spoon and the captive falls suddenly quiet. There’s something almost heartbreaking about it. I let go and step back.

“Give me the map”

The prisoner doesn’t speak, his shoulders rise and fall with every labored breath and silent whimper.

I start to pace up and down the cabin.

This is going nowhere…

No. No, he is close to breaking point, I know it! Has to be… Why doesn’t he break?

I stop. From that angle of the room I notice the captive’s constant wriggle of the wrists and the pool of blood that dripped onto the floor.

I feel so very lost.

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!

Why is he doing this to me?!?

“What are you mad at me for, cook?!” I ask in an almost whiney tone.

“I have always been nothing but fair to you, haven’t I? And here you are, y-you scurvy ingrate, doing all this, trying t-to… What? Why? What have I ever done to you? Why are you punishing ME for Merritt and the crew’s actions? Just give me the map, Julian, JUST GIVE IT TO ME!”

“Merritt?”

I am so surprised by the response I don’t quite know what to do with myself.

“W-well, yes. It was his idea, don’t you remember? You were right there in the cabin with them!

I had nothing to do with it. Didn’t even know about it until it was too late!”

My captive looks at me with big haunted eyes.

“Yeah, he planned the whole thing, got the men, went there and grabbed the boy, had the trial, everything.

Now will you help me?”

He turns his head away, consumed by his thoughts.

“Will you draw me the map now?!”

There is no answer.

“COOK!”

It’s like he doesn’t even remember I’m there.

“LOOK AT ME!”

I’ll make him look.

I briskly move to the table, plunge the ladle in the pot and go to him. I grab him forcefully by the chin, level him. The prisoner finally returns a stare and my heart misses a beat.

I filled the ladle to the brim this time and without looking at it I slowly and gradually spill the contents of the spoon. Savor it.

Fresh tears wash his face and he sounds like a wild animal.

Without breaking eye contact, I move my hand from the chin and put it over my captive’s mouth, feel the scream vibrating against my palm…

There’s real horror in those light brown eyes.

The ladle is soon empty again and I realize I forgot to breathe.

I take my hand off the man’s mouth.

His screams fade into whimpers and suddenly he bucks, his eyes flutter and roll shut. Then, he falls limp, head hung, his body held only by the ropes binding him to the chair.

For a split second I seriously panic, check his pulse. Make sure his heart didn’t fail to beat from the shocking pain.

Then I stand there, staring at him for a while, waiting for him to come to. When he doesn’t, I exit the room and leave him there.

Does he really hate me so much that he would endure the worse kind of pain just to spite me?

What kind of sick vendetta is this?

I shudder.

I now know I need to go about it in a whole different way.

---

The vessel sways and the door opens… There are more of them. Noel’s legs are shaking and his teeth are knocking over the gag.

They drag him across the cabin and though he does his best to struggle, he is out numbered, they are far bigger than him and with his arms bound so tightly he can’t even slow them down.

They cast him to the floor, face down. He tries to speak to them, beg them, but they don’t understand him, even though they know exactly what he’s asking.

He turns his head towards them, to plea for mercy with his big, wet, blue eyes.

They laugh mockingly and one of them kicks him in the gut.

The laughter becomes louder as he gasps in pain and curls into a ball. A booted leg is pressed onto his head, forcefully pinning his cheek to the floor. He can’t do a thing beside lay there and wait.

He looks at him now.

They tug and pull and tears start trickling down his face. His hands twist, his fingers curl, his breathing short and fast.

Then a grunt is pushed out of him with the weight hurled over. The boot is lifted and a hand comes in its stead, the fingers dig into his light brown hair and bunch into a fist.

He tries to put up a fight, but all he can do is wriggle. In return, his head is pulled back and then slammed against the floor, he shuts his eyes momentarily but they immediately go back and fix on him.

The men cheer and their laughter stands in the stifled air. A second hand grabs his shoulder and pushes down.

Then it starts, sharp, sudden, and he yells into the heavy cloth.

The side of his head is nudged up and down against the floor, grated harder and harder, faster and faster, and he is choking on his own screams…

He looks at him all the while, through pouring streams of tears.

Then it’s finally over.

But before he knows it, they switch.

He doesn’t dare move, but he can’t stop his whimpers. New hands grab and tug, different weight traps him under.

He can’t even make a sound anymore. His eyes and mouth are all dried out.

With every thrust the air is edged out of him.

He looks at him, begs with his eyes. There’s such sorrow, such disappointment in them. He is right there! Why won’t he help him?

Then it’s Merritt’s turn.

The boy’s eyes are now hollow and blank. How could you let this happen?

---

Julian woke on the ninth day with a start. The lump in his throat made it almost impossible to breathe, let alone swallow. The pain rolled from his gut to his chest. He tried to arch his back to relieve it, only to discover he was fastened to the bed.

He lifted his head. Saw that his chest and shoulder were bandaged and that the many ropes that kept his body in check, strapping him from the neck down to his feet, seemed to carefully avoid his wounds.

He started to wriggle his hands and learned his wrists were dressed but unbound. He rubbed them against the bed, but there was not enough friction. He slammed his head back into the mattress, letting out a frustrated growl.

“Can’t have you hurting yourself, now can we?”

Mann was sitting there, waiting for him. The cook turned his head away, tried to wipe the tears on the mattress, so the other man won’t see them.

“Ye still here, captain?” he croaked.

“Let’s stop this, Julian” The captain sighed. “We both know how this ends, so why drag this? Draw me the map!”

The cook turned his head to look at him with disdain. Mann saw, but ignored it.

“Give me what I want and, by god, I’ll give you whatever you want. Fair trade”

“Not even ye and yer god can give me what I want, so I will ne’er give ye anythin’. How’s that for fair?”

There was silence. Then the captain broke it. “Ahh, of course. You’re still thinking of the boy…

Can’t be easy being you right now, aye, cook? You lost your only…” he fumbled at the word “… friend. You’re still here with the people who did this. Your body is in pain. I understand… but I need that map”

The cook wanted to scream. He had to lie there and listen to the captain with no way of distracting himself. Mann made sure of that. But screaming will only give the captain a reason to touch his mouth again, so he bit down on his lip instead.

“You must’ve been so l-lonely, until he came along…

You always saw yourself as better than everyone else, you never was one of the crew. You even think you’re better than me, don’t you, boy? But why him?” he demanded. “Of all people, why him? Why that ridiculous landlubber? He wasn’t a real woman and by god he was less than a man!”

The captain paused to allow his captive to respond, but the cook, eye shut tight and trembling all over, remained silent.

“You’re not like the others, are you?” he tried. “For hell knows what reasons, they all went insane over him. But for you it was different. You weren’t just starved like them. At least Merritt had the good sense to kill that fiend. But you actually wanted him. You’re just all wrong.”

The cook struggled against the binds in vain. It was only when his body screamed in pain that he could silence his thoughts.

“Shut yer mouth!”

“It all makes sense to me now… You, at the brothels, with the women… Always such a sad pathetic sight…” He chuckled. “I imagine your mother would have been proud. To know her son is a disgusting deviant.

Lucky she’s dead, aye?”

“SHUT YER HOLE!”

“… Come to think of it, they all die on you, don’t they? Never stick around for long, do they? Hmmmm… Ever think god’s trying to tell you something?”

He has. All his life.

He kept making that same mistake, over and over. Dared to think he deserved to be happy, despite of what he was. And each time, others paid the price. Whenever he looked for… love, for a lack of better term, his dear ones suffered. First his parents, then the other orphans, and now…

He didn’t deserve happiness and destiny made sure he’d never get it.

But, no, that’s all it was. Merely love. Every human is worthy of that, surely? If they are good, hard working and honest?

Damnation! Even now, after all that’s happened he still couldn’t shake that blasphemous thought.

He deserved to love and be loved.

The captain as if read his mind. “You l-loved him, didn’t you?” The words seemed to sear him when they left his lips.

“God! That must be hard for you, then, to think you shared him with the others.” He paused, examined the cook’s sudden pale expression.

“Come on, you’ve seen him that morning, the state of him. Hell, you were right there in the cabin with them… Oh, no, wait, that’s right, you chose that time to have a little sleepy.

Still, they must’ve had one hell of a party… Not that I could blame them, mind” He said with a sly smile.

“With his face down, that long hair and fair skin he almost looked like the real thing! And with him being all trussed up and ready to go… hell, even I would!” he exclaimed cheerfully.

The cook slammed his head against the mattress, breathing heavily.

Julian spent all his waking and sleeping hours in torment thinking with horror about Noel’s last moments on earth, praying to all gods they were as painless as possible…

His tears were now flowing, unstoppable, un-hide-able.

“Yeah, I’d cry too.” The captain continued, spurred by the response. “I’m quite the jealous guy, myself, and that would just drive me mad.

I mean, just thinking of all the guys having what belonged to you! How can you bear the thought of having to share him?”

The cook let out a strangled cry. “Oh god…”

“The others knowing what that boy tasted like… Making him moan, making him sweat, making him scream… Knowing how tight and warm he feels on the inside.”

Julian tossed his head from side to side… but he could still hear those words.

“I feel your pain. That should have been private information. Your secret… Just for you to know”

The cook stopped his struggles then averted his eyes, trying to avoid Mann’s glare. The older man gasped.

“Oh no… don’t tell me! Don’t tell me you two haven’t?!”

“Shut up!”

“Oh, my! All those months, spent in the same room, sleeping in the same cabin, night after night, just the two of you… and you still couldn’t?! What’s wrong with you, boy? Have you not got your manhood about you?!

The captain broke into a loud laugh, eyes twinkling in glee.

“And now you’ll never know. How does it feel? To realize others know what you never will?

I can ask them for you, if you want… Hah!” The captain wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Oh, dear…”

“Please… don’t…” Julian whispered.

The sense of regret was unbearable. What a fool he was to wait, to play games, to even hesitate. What a sad creature, with a life not lived.

He longed for a fire, to burn his mind clean of thoughts.

“What a disappointment you were to him.

You know, I imagine he still believed, almost up to his very last breath, that you’d save him.

How does it make you feel? To know that his last thought was that you let him down?

“I couldn’t… There were too many…”

“He always waited for you… for you to fuck him… for you to wake up… for you to save him. What an endless string of disappointments you are!”

“I tried, but there were just too many… forgive me, I tired…”

“What a sad excuse of a man.”

“Forgive me…”

Julian broke into a loud, childlike cry and Mann had to hold himself from falling back by the overwhelming pleasure this gave him. He never saw the other man so weak, so vulnerable, so pathetic…

It was something ten times more satisfying than any whip, blow or burn… the sound of something breaking inside.… and suddenly he was overcome with pity.

He sat there for an hour listening to Julian cry, until his prisoner fell asleep, exhausted.

When the cook woke up, the captain was still there, in the same place.

“Can I go to the toilet, please?” He muttered in a tiny voice.

Mann agreed, Got Samson to cut him free and escort him.

Julian was tired. He didn’t want to fight anymore. He didn’t care for revenge or silly games. He just wanted this to end. He looked for ways to escape, but knew he could never outrun or outfight the giant.

When they got back to the cabin, the cook took a pen in a trembling hand and drew a map. He wasn’t much of a painter but it was clear enough.

Mann looked at the map and nodded.

“I’ll keep my word, cook.” He smiled at Julian. “When we reach the treasure, I’ll set you free.

Heck, I’ll even pull the trigger myself!”

---

[nextpage title=”Chapter 6 – Captain Blackheart’s treasure”]
Chapter 6 – Captain Blackheart’s treasure

On its 162nd day, in the early hours of the morning, the Prince Vince’s voyage reached its destination, at long last.

It has been a hard sail in which the ship and its crew managed to get caught up in violent storms, run out of food and rum, nearly burn down, be on the verge of mutiny and dabble for the first time in treasure hunting, kidnapping and murder.

Sitting in his confinement at the belly of the ship, the cook was excited.

In the four days that passed since he gave Mann the map, Julian lay motionless on the bed, soundlessly haemorrhaging tears.

Waiting…

He thought nothing about giving it to Mann, or about letting the captain “win”.

He didn’t even mind when they came into the room that morning and tied his hands in front of him, keeping a long rope-tale to use like a dog leash. Who cares?

Today this ends.

His heart was thumping in his chest and he felt more alive than he had in a long time.

He appreciated the irony of that.

---

Due to the gigantic underwater rocks scattered wide along the eastern coast of Bulan, the ship had to anchor on the island’s North-east side.

The crew almost in its entirety left ship to make its way by foot. Half a day’s walking or so, the captain estimated, though once they were on land the island seemed bigger than it looked on the map. They sent nasty looks the cook’s way.

He ignored them, as he ignored Merritt’s nervous avoidance of him, and as he ignored the captain’s long concentrated stares. His head was elsewhere. Samson led him along the coastline and he followed. It was as simple as that.

The crew reached the east coast by late afternoon and could see the landmarks ahead. The two rocks in the water, the hill, the cave itself… just as it showed on the map.

They had to lay low and wait pass dusk to avoid contact with locals. Mann decided not to set up camp but go for the treasure and straight back in the courtesy of darkness.

Once night fell they made their way toward the cave, stopping about 200 yards to the front of it.

“Right, men, this is it!” the captain addressed his crew excitedly “We’ll be making our way in. Me, Samson and the cook will take the lead, the rest of you, get your cutlasses out, we don’t want any nasty surpri—”

The explosion was deafening, the sky instantly lit in the colour of blood… And all at once everywhere there were blasts shooting, and the stench of gun powder was smothering the air.

“We were spotted! Take cover!!!”

The men scattered the beach like scared rats. The shots seemed to come from around the cave, and the men frantically stumbled, knocking others over in their run for cover, every man for himself.

Julian got up from the sand and looked around him. He was on his own. Any which way he turned people were shouting and running, trying to retreat or hide. He grabbed a discarded cutlass left behind in the stampede and cut his hands loose.

Ahead in a distance he saw the captain, he took a step forward when a big, bright explosion blew up and Mann disappeared behind the sandy hills.

He smiled.

Good. One down…

He searched for him.

He was never a violent man, but at this very moment that’s all he wanted. Now that he was free, he was filled with the desperate need for revenge.

He spotted the man amid the smoke not far away…

The realization that he was being watched fell on Merritt immediately and he turned pale, horror spreading upon his face. He froze in his place for a second before he started to run, hysterical…

But fat cowards are no match for younger men fuelled by hatred.

The cook soon reached and tackled him and they both fell to the ground. Julian turned him on his back and straddled him to make sure the man won’t get away.

“AAAAAAAAAAH!!! WHAT YE BE DOIN’?!”

Julian grabbed the quartermaster and shook him like a sack of potatoes. “WHAT’S THE MATTER, MERRITT? Not as easy when ye not got yer henchmen with ye, aye?!” the cook’s eyes were wild and bloodshot and more terrifying than any bomb.

“GET HIM OFF MEEE! HEEEEEEEEEELP!”

But no one around had any time for the pleas of others.

Julian wrapped his hands around the older man’s neck and squeezed.

“WHERE ARE THEY NOW?!”

“Cook… Cook, I understand…” the old man croaked “Ye… still… be… under ‘is spell…”

Julian put more force into it, wringing the man’s breath away.

“but… ye’ll… thank… me… one day…” The quartermaster coughed while he hopelessly tried to peel off the other man’s hands.

The cook ignored the gurgling sound the man made and gripped harder, pushing at his windpipes. Saw as the older man squirmed in vain…

He must pay!

Watched him turn white then blue at his hands…

Good…

“Julian… Juli… Ju…!” The man’s voice was fading, his eyes bulging out…

He must die!!!

The man underneath him stopped his struggles, his face awash with tears.

“N… I… I can’t!”

Julian’s hands left the quartermaster’s neck and he stared at them tremble.

“I’m not like ye…” he mumbled then rolled off him and lay on the ground grabbing his head.

“I’m not like ye…”

He heard the older man wheezing, as Merritt clutched at his own neck, struggling to regain his breath.

“I’m nothing like them…” the cook kept mumbling… reminding himself.

He was so submerged in his thoughts that the attack came out of nowhere. The quartermaster flew at him, eyes ablaze. “AAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!”

The old man looked possessed as he tried to strangle him, but the cook grabbed his arms, putting up resistance and fighting for his life with all his might.

Not by his hands… never by his hands…

“I’LL GET THE DEVIL OUT OF YE, COOK!” Merritt screamed as he used his heavy body to push down.

“NOOOO!” the cook struggled against the weight of the other man.

“Oh, I’ll get im out of ye” the master hissed through greeted teeth. He let his right hand leave the neck to punch the cook’s face.

Though dazed by the blows, Julian managed to slip a leg between them and kicked Merritt off him.

As the older man stumbled to his feet the cook moved franticly on all fours desperately searching around him for his cutlass… Then it dawned on him that it was his sword that Merritt was now wielding.

The quartermaster ran toward him crazed, waving the cutlass maniacally. The cook surprised him with a sweeping kick to the shin and he fell to the ground beside him, losing his hold on the cutlass and sending it flying over their heads. A split second later and the men jumped for the spot where the knife lay on the sand.

Merritt managed to grip the base of the knife but Julian wrapped his hands around them. They rolled on the ground as they struggled for control, kicking and shoving, a tangled mass of limbs and moves.

Merritt’s well aimed elbow hit the cook’s face at a great speed and in Julian’s stunned state, the quartermaster sat on top of him and took charge of the knife. He gripped the handle hard with both hands, directing it towards the cook’s abdomen.

Julian grabbed the older man’s hands and with the last of his powers, pushed to his left and rolled Merritt off him with a wild swooping motion, propping on his knees to look around and decide his next move.

But the other man didn’t budge. He lay sprawled eagle on his back, gaping.

The cook hesitantly approached him and saw the wet red stain spreading in his lap, around where the knife was buried. Then the quartermaster began flailing in pain. “Help me… Help me!!!” he whined hysterically.

“I… I’m so… no… I…” the cook stumbled back and away from him, pale and confused, as Merritt pulled out the cutlass from his groin and let out an ear piercing scream.

Julian shakily got up and started walking in the direction of the cave… marching unstoppable towards the light in hopes of catching a cannonball’s ride to hell.

Then he tripped on a twig and crashed to the ground, without even stretching his arms out to soften the fall.

Dead men have no instincts.

His head hit the sand with a thud and the twig swiftly covered his mouth just in time to stifle a yelp.

“Shhh, Julian… It’s me, I’ve come for you.”

The cook blinked twice, bewildered, then the hand was off. He took a deep breath and smiled.

“I’m ready, I be ready for days.”

“Wha?”

“Uh?”

“Hmmm? Oh, I see. I came back for you, but I’m real.”

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? I’m alive!”

“No yer not. Ye be dead.”

“No, I’m alive”

“Ye be a mere figment of me imagination!”

“Don’t make me kick you in the balls just to prove my point.”

“Welcome back!”

“Thanks!”

“But, what ye be doin’ here, Fieldin’, ye crazy loon! Ye could get hit by the canons!”

“Well, you wanted a scurvy show and dance, didn’t you?” the boy winked at the cook, whose jaw, it seemed, just dropped and hit the ground again.

“They’re with ye?!” he blinked.

Noel smiled broadly. “Yes, now quit your hammering and follow me!”

The cook nodded and picked himself up from the ground a second after Noel.

“Ugh. I should have known it be really ye” the cook sighed “No ghost would be seen dead in that outfit!”

“What do you mean?” the boy frowned “It’s my perfect disguise. It’s me pirrrate look! ARRRRGH!”

Julian took a closer look at the Noel’s outfit, while the man put his hands on his waist for better demonstration. The elaborate golden frock coat, the big black Tricorn, the boots, the do rag, all too flashy and much and big for his size… and then there was the eye-patch, of course.

“What, Fieldin’, couldn’t get a parrot?”

“DON’T make me un-rescue you, Barratt! Because I will! Now apologize to yer new captain!”

“Oh, ye be Captain now?”

“Aye! Wait till you see me vessel, boy!”

“Um, is this really the right time and place for this, Noel?”

“Wha? Oh, no, I really do have a ship.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

The boy signalled Julian to follow him and they began walking up the hill, to the left of the cave…

Julian tailed after Noel as he walke… well, skipped all along the secret trail. They continued for a quarter of an hour or so in the dark, where no bombs were going off to light up the sky and expose them. They headed back down and reached the shore again when he saw it tied to a tree, a Chinese junk.

Noel’s lips curled into a disproportionately big smile. “There she is: my vessel! She’s a beauty, ain’t she?”

Julian took a look at the small funny looking wooden boat with its one deck, one cabin and three mast poles with weird orange sails and gave a silent chuckle… Oh, how he missed that idiot. “Ye. She sure is, captain!”

“She can float in all waters too, no matter how shallow! That’s how I could avoid the rocks, see! I call her ‘La Luna dura’. Luna for short!”

They soundlessly untied the boat, pushed it in the water.

The tall man was about to climb onboard when Noel blocked his way. “Nah-uh. Not so fast, boy! First, you must know that you can come in, but you can never leave…”

“Meh”, the cook shrugged “that be alright, I don’t have much planned”.

Noel chortled and stepped aside to allow Julian to mount the boat.

Once they were both on board, Noel’s costume was off. No one would be pulling rank here, it’s a two men show now.

They wordlessly rowed as fast as they could until it was far enough from shore they could see the entire battle as frantic little dark figures under sparkling gold explosions.

They looked at each other and gave a simultaneous loud sigh, broad smiles smeared across their faces.

“Ye know, from a distance, it be quite a thin’ of beauty” the cook finally said.

“Bloody hope so” the boy replied “they’re Singapore’s finest fireworks and bloody expensive!”

The cook gaped. “N-not real?”

“Nope. Totally harmless. They make nice big bangs, though, don’t they? They belong to the two fishermen who picked me up, they also trade goods from Singapore…”

“O-only the three of ye?! Wait, what fishermen? We were deep at sea that day… and there were no ships around!”

“Well, that was after I met these two big fishes, I think they were dolphins, and we got along…”

“Saved by dolphins? What?! No one gets along with fish!”

“Well I have! And anyway, how would you know, you never met any! They’re frisky and friendly creatures! Some might say too friendly…”

The boy gave a small shudder while the cook shook his head, trying to get his head around the new information.

“How did ye? I mean, here… how did… when?”

“We knew exactly where you’ll be, ‘cause we had the map, see? We got here six days ago, and I knew we had time because the captain wanted to stay in Singapore, so we set it up and rehearsed where everything was and waited… and waited… and waited till you finally got here…”

“Y-you rehearsed…?!” the cook mumbled overwhelmed

“Yeah, I knew you’d be the most impressed about that part” The boy scowled. “… But thank god we made that copy, aye?”

“God, yes!” the cook looked at the boy and smiled to himself.

Torture for Noel. He’ll take that bargain any day.

“Um, s-so what about yer friends? Isn’t this their boat?”

“No, they have a raft. They’ll light up some more fireworks, for about an hour still, then set the long fuses and while these burn they’ll slip away to Batam… And if you think that was impressive, ha, just wait! They’re saving the big ones for last!” His toothy grin was both childlike and cunning all at once.

“Won’t they be spotted?”

“Un-scurvy-likely. But anyway they transported their share of the booty to Batam days ago. Even if they’re spotted, no one would think two poor fishermen on a pile of sticks are responsible for this.”

“The b-booty?”

“You didn’t think I’d let Mann have all of the loot, did you?” Noel seemed giddy with pride. “Or any of it, for that matter…”

“Um, N-no…?”

“We cleaned that cave nice and proper… Then we split it between us and the villagers. So they won’t come running to shore once they hear the bombs. I told the fishermen to have my share, you know, for the boat, but they wouldn’t even hear it. Said it was bad luck to steal from a mermaid” Noel shrugged “Lovely people, the Chinese… mad as a bag of kittens, of course.”

“Why on earth would ye tell them to have it all?”

“I have all I need”

“Oh.” The cook blushed. He just wanted to hear it, really.

“But how did ye know ye could find me in the dark ‘tween all the bombs and people?”

The boy sighed.

“I knew you’d be the only one running towards the bombs…”

Silence fell and though he tried his best to hide it, Julian’s bottom lip started to quiver and his eyes glistened.

“It’s alright now, it doesn’t matter anymore.” Noel stroked the cook’s hand. “And our share is still big enough to last us ten lifetimes, Ju”

Ju…

The cook coughed away his tears. “Won’t they come lookin’ for us?”

“Looking for who? No one knows I’m alive or that you have a boat, they’d think you drowned.”

“Crikey, Noel, that’s just brilliant. Ye thought of everythin’! “

“It is pretty good, isn’t it?”

“It be more than good, it be… genius!” he couldn’t be prouder if he tried.

They sat on deck watching the pretty explosions until they had to pull up the back sail which blocked their view.

“We’ll be fine now. By the time the crew reaches the ‘Prince Vince’ we’ll be past Singapore and on our way home.”

“Noel… Thank ye for comin’ for me.”

The boy just smiled as he grabbed the cook’s hand, and lead him into the cabin.

He walked in and began fixing up a few Chinese lamps until the room was bright with warm orange light. Julian looked around him.

There was a dark old small stove with a crooked chimney that looked a little like Noel’s nose, some large crates overflowing with food and provisions, a simple wooden table and two stools, heavy boxes and decorated chests and piles of colourful lush materials and a big cushy sleeping area, all crammed together in one tiny space, but it looked like the cosiest place on earth and he was so glad he agreed, because he couldn’t imagine himself ever leaving.

---

Soon as he lights up the room, he sees the crimson that stains the cook’s shirt. “Oh, ju, you’re wounded!”

“What? Oh, no, it’s not mine, it’s… Merritt’s. We, um, we fought.”

“D-did you kill him?” he doesn’t mean to say it out loud like that but it comes out.

“No. I tried but I-I couldn’t do it, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Noel…”

“It’s alright. You’re not like them, I know. I admire that about you”

The cook gives an apologetic half-smile “But he won’t be rapin’ anyone ever again!”

“W-what? He r-raped you?!” the boy wants to die “Oh, god, Ju, no….”

“What? No! just ye”

“He didn’t rape me.”

“No?”

“No one did… well, that dolphin came damn close, but no.”

It was as if a Chinese lamp was lit behind Julian’s eyes and he seems young and alive again.

They exchange grateful looks when it finally occurs to the boy.

“So, wait, is that Merritt’s d-downstairs blood…??? EEEEW!”

The both feel as if they’re going to throw up.

“Better get you out of these clothes” Noel says in an only semi-innocent tone.

He tries to peel the shirt off Barratt, but all of a sudden the cook is crossing his arms.

“What’s the matter? I have plenty of clothes for you here… I bought you some Chinese silk shirts. You’d be surprised how much you can b… w-what?”

The cook stares at his feet, hunched back. It’s obvious he doesn’t want Noel to look at him.

He tugs at the shirt again and the cook’s eyes start to leak.

“What is it? Oh god, Ju, what is it? Please…”

The tall man unfolds his arms and lets Noel pull the shirt off. He sees the bandages and starts to unwrap them gently… He can’t stop his gasp from slipping out. “Oh, Julian, what have they done to you?!

“Please don’t look at me” Julian’s voice breaks. “I’m hideous”

Noel looks at him and can’t help but think he’s beautiful. Still.

So impressively tall and broad shouldered, with his gorgeous hazel eyes, tousled soft curls and the sweetest, warmest, purest smile he’s ever seen… Right now he just wants to see him smile again.

“Don’t you know how handsome you are? How strikin…”

“Don’t”

“Damn it, Barratt, why should you be ashamed?! The people who did this to you should! You wear it proudly!”

“But I’m… when yer so…”

“No, I’m not! I’m broken!!!” He pulls his sleeve up and presses his rope burn to Julian’s bruised wrists “Just like you!”

The cook wells up. He struggles to hold back, but can’t. Noel quickly stands on tip toes, kisses him softly on the lips and smiles. “And anyway I like your scars. They show what a brave man you are!”

He begins to plant tender pecks across the cook’s chest. “How strong…” he moves slowly from scar to scar, his lips skimming the rugged surface “How powerful…”

Julian trembles all over with every breath ghosting over his skin. The tissue must be especially tender, but the moans Julian’s uttering tell the boy that’s not necessarily a bad thing. “So… beautiful…”

He trails his tongue from the chest, to the Clavicle and up the neck, past the long cut and onto the chin and finally the lips again. He grabs the cook’s face with two hands and desperately pulls him into his open mouth.

They are both breathing heavily. He knows it’s not the lack of air, but the overwhelming emotions. The cook’s arms wrap themselves around him tightly and then his big hands start to move up and down. They stroke his back until they come to rest on his ass, squeezing it and pulling it towards him.

Uncontrollably, Noel begins to shiver, although he’s far from being cold.

He waited so long for this if it doesn’t happen right now there’s a fair chance he’ll die.

“Have ye done this before?” Julian whispers in his ear.

“No.” he answers meekly “Have you?”

“Yes.”

Now the boy’s cold. He freezes, shocked.

He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised, he doesn’t know all about the other man’s life… the life before him. It’s ridiculous to be so disappointed. Let alone hurt… How dare he have a life before him?

He fears he might cry.

“I’m sorry.” The cook mumbles.

Noel blinks. “Was it… um, did you…? Who was…?”

“It be only a few times… it was ne’er like this…”

“No, it’s ok.”

“Please, I want to say this” he insists. “I always knew I be different… and I tired… there was another boy at the orphanage… but it ended badly and since then just random Jacks at ports and some lasses too… But I ne’er felt like… I ne’er knew like now… with ye”

There’s a long pause.

“It doesn’t matter…” The boy decides. “And I’m glad at least one of us knows what he’s doing.” He means it and smiles but Julian is submerged in his thoughts, mumbling to himself…

Suddenly the cook straightens up, his face dead serious.

“No more life not lived!”

He crashes into him, pulling Noel into a determined, if messy kiss.

It’s brief. He breaks away abruptly and surprises Noel by grabbing his waist and lifting him up, wrapping the boy’s legs to his sides.

Noel instinctively curls himself around Julian’s hold, burying his face in the corner of his neck, holding tight.

This is really happening…

The bigger man carries him a few steps to the bed and deposits him there gently, lets him unroll to lying on his back. He gives him a peck on the lips and walks back to the cooking area. He scans it, looking for something then comes back with a bottle of olive oil in his hand.

“Um…”

“Shhh!” the cook commands softly.

Noel’s heart misses a beat.

Julian sets the bottle on the floor and stands at the foot of the bed, towering above, looking down at him.

He stares into Noel’s eyes intently before slowly scanning his entire body from his lips to his ankles…

Noel gulps.

The tall man pulls his boots off then unbuttons his trousers and lets them drop to his ankles. He kicks them off and suddenly there he is, in the flesh.

And instantly everything changes, there’s such honesty in nudity…

Too much honesty perhaps. Noel’s eyes dart around, avoiding having to stare right at it. He tries not to think about the technicalities of sizes and compatibilities and wheres and hows, and focuses on breathing.

In no time, Julian moves on to remove Noel’s boots and leans forward to start undoing his shirt. He pulls it off him then he goes to work on his breeches while the boy lies there, biting his lip.

It’s all so strikingly different to the fumbling, insecure fingers that tried to undress him the first time…

He tugs at the trousers and Noel raises his hips to allow the material to be peeled off… and then he’s naked.

He notices the cook can’t suppress a smile of content.

Oh, god…

The cook grabs his ankles, pulls them together and gives a little waggle. Noel’s body responds by flipping on his belly.

Holy shit!

He shuts his eyes tight and gnaws on a strand of his hair.

He hears Julian’s grunt as he bends over, supporting his weight with arms on both sides of Noel’s shoulders and legs on both sides of his thighs.

He feels it resting against his backside.

A hand reaches his mouth, takes away the strand. Then the fingers dig into his hair and rub the scalp in circular motions, alternately tender and firm, making him meep.

The hand leaves the head and makes its way down his spine slowly and comes to a halt at the smalls of his back. He automatically arches and slightly bumps up his rear end.

He hears a small chuckle and opens his eyes.

The other man shifts out of view and then he hears the sound of a cork being unscrewed and thick liquid spilling.

The cook comes back, spreads Noel’s legs and sits on his knees between them. He bends over to give him a brief kiss on the cheek. “Just relax” he whispers, but it’s easier said than done.

He pulls Noel’s waist back and the boy props himself on his elbows, forehead pressed against his hands.

Kneeling behind him, Julian strokes his back tenderly a few times before he gently inserts a sleeked finger and waits. Noel’s breathing hitches but after a moment he lifts his head and nods. Julian pushes the finger further and begins to move it, slowly, twirling it around, probing him from the inside…

It’s strange and it’s scary and it’s new and it’s awkward. But Noel knows he wants this. In fact, he already wants more. So much more…

With his head leaning on his hands for support, Noel exhales slowly as Julian curls his finger. Then he wriggles it somewhere behind his testicles and it’s as if he hit something because it shoots such a powerful sensation Noel’s entire body jerks and he lets out a helpless wail.

He gets a kiss on the back of the neck for that groan.

The man introduces another digit and moves both fingers in circular motions. And before the boy settles his breathing Julian bends over and bites him on the nape. Noel yelps in surprise but daren’t move.

The cook keeps his teeth around his skin, breathing out hot air, as he thrusts the fingers in and out.

Noel doesn’t know exactly why but he is reminded of being at school and reading in some zoology book about the mating rituals of big cats… remembers reading that the lion bites down on the lioness’ neck to keep her in check during intercourse.

He stays perfectly still as his lion makes him whimper with strange new sensations. Then the man unhooks his jaw and whispers in his ear, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“I need to see you”

Before it registers, Julian pulls out and Noel feels as if all the air has been punctured out of him.

The cook flips him on his back and plants a soft kiss on the lips. Noel closes his eyes and feels the kiss get more intense as he allows Julian’s tongue to delve deep into his mouth again. He finds himself making these humming sounds that break the silence and he pushes his head up to drive their mouths tighter together but then the cook tears away and he opens his eyes. The man clears Noel’s stray hairs off his face, and sits back.

The boy lies there panting, watches Julian watching him.

His look is so intense it burns a hole in his soul and he can’t bear it any longer.

Noel knows that look well… it’s part love-struck puppy part predatory wolf and in hindsight he realizes he had seen it in Julian’s eyes many times. He needs the cook inside him, filling the pit left by this glare so badly he could weep…

Julian must see the hunger in his eyes because he quickly shuffles about and lathers oil on himself, then parts Noel’s bent knees and settles.

“Ye be sure?”

HELL YES!!!

Noel realizes screaming in his head may not be enough and nods.

Julian strokes himself a few times then garbs the boy’s thighs and raises his pelvis towards him.

Here we go…

The cook guides his member with his hand and presses against the entrance, then he gives a little thrust and the tip is in.

Noel gasps at the surprising pain…

Julian withdraws gently then pushes in further than before and pauses. He wipes away Noel’s tears and stares deep into his eyes.

“M-more” the boy answers and breathes out slowly.

Julian moves with Noel’s exhale, gives a paced long thrust and he’s fully inside.

Oh, god…

Julian takes in a lung full of air and starts to slowly grind. Noel doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He wants to wrap his arms around Julian’s neck and draw him into a kiss, but he is lying on his back and the man is just too far away and so he grabs hold of something… the sheet in one hand, the pillow with the other.

The cook slowly pulls out… then pushes in fast… repeats this with a steady pattern of breathing.

It helps. The sound of Julian’s moans remind him to breathe.

In time, the cook penetrates deeper and deeper and Noel’s knuckles are white from clutching too hard.

He’s an overwhelmingly powerful sight to behold, that Julian. His body glistens as droplets of sweat trickle from his brawn torso and spiral down the long twisting muscles of his arms and fall onto him. Wash him clean.

He’s magnificent, and he made me, and he’s all mine…

The boy arches his back, stuffs the sheet in his mouth and bites down hard. He’s glad the cook’s running the show because right now he’s not even sure he remembers his own name.

He remembers Julian’s, and that’s all that matters.

Then the man hits that spot again and electricity shoots through Noel’s entire body, making him tremble all over, and he calls out his lover’s name into the cloth.

The cook quivers as he alternately taps the spot again and again at an erratic rate… The irregular pace makes it impossible for Noel to maintain a steady pattern of breathing and it’s driving him insane making him feel like he won’t be able to contain himself for much longer. He needs to scream, so he bites harder on the sheet…

But, no, wait, he had quite enough of being stifled and silenced thank you very much and he decides that never again! He spits out the cloth and says it.

“Ju…”

The other man responds by picking up the speed.

“Oh, Ju…”

Julian’s pounds turn harder and wilder with every push.

“oh, GoD, Ju oh, oHHHhh, JU…

JuLIaAAAAAN!“

“Yeah… still here” the cook snorts and slows down.

Noel gives Julian a mock frown and he lets go of the pillow and his hand makes its way to his own aching erection.

But the cook quickly shifts his weight and leans forward to grab the hand before it reaches its destination and holds it down over Noel’s head.

“Not… yet…” he instructs and he picks up the other hand and pins it next to the first, intertwining his fingers between Noel’s and folding the hands close.

Noel’s heart is beating so hard it may explode. The stronger man has all the power and total control over his body, and for all he’s been through it should scare him to his core.

But it doesn’t.

He trusts him completely and can stay like this forever.

Julian resumes his thrusting and Noel sees him studying his face. His eyes wrinkle in a smile with every whimper he squeezes out of Noel… and the boy knows.

This makes him brave enough to experiment, and he begins gyrating against Julian’s grind. The cook’s eyes widen with surprise and he utters it for the first time, creating the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

“God, N-noel…”

The cook squeezes the hands tighter, picks up the pace again and Noel pushes back to meet his forward pressure. Their breathing is quick and shallow and in perfect unison.

They are one beast.

They groan each other’s names again… and again… and again and Julian’s hands finally release Noel’s… But the boy’s too slow and before he makes the move, the cook already spat in his palm and has his fingers around his shaft.

Noel doesn’t even notice but he bangs his head against the mattress and the cook starts to run his hand up and down. All of a sudden, Noel feels himself clamp around Julian and it wrings out the most desperate sound from the other man and he momentarily loses his balance and focus.

Then he recovers and falls forward to give Noel a long gaspy kiss. The boy finally wraps his arms around him, to ensure he stays this close forever. Julian’s warm, wet body glides against his at an angle while he thrusts and pumps simultaneously, faster and faster and faster…

They look deep in each other’s eyes and pant confused words.

“Noel… I… I…”

“Oh, god, Ju… I do too”

“So… much”

There is such a thing as too much. This mixture of pain and pleasure and emotions and insatiable need is just too much. Too many things stimulate him at the same time and Noel is pretty sure this is killing him.

As things are set in motion on the rapid course for the inevitable and his eyes become blurry and it’s impossible to breathe anymore, he smiles.

He can’t think of a better way to go.

---

They lie on the bed facing each other. Their legs are tangled together and they just stare at each other at close range, smiling.

Fingers caress the face… stroke the hair… trail the jaw line… brush against the lips…

They really need to go to sleep but can’t bring themselves to do it.

“We should probably eat something” the boy finally says.

Julian nods. “Ye, we should”

“You look like you haven’t eaten in a week”.

“That be the case”.

“Oh… Well, there are plenty of fresh vegetables and these exotic fruits… and fishes we caught this morning. No cabbages”

The cook smiles “I wouldn’t mind eating only cabbages for the rest of me life”.

The boy knows a compliment when he hears one, no matter how lopsided it is, and he blushes… he doesn’t know why this makes him red after what they’ve just done.

The cook draws his face in and presses his lips to Noel’s briefly.

“Thank ye for not drownin’“

“It was my pleasure!” the boy smiles, only to turn earnest a split second later. “Ju… do you believe in god?”

The cook shouldn’t be too surprised by the question, they both mentioned god a lot just now.

“I believe in frisky dolphins” he answers with a grateful smile.

“Me too.” The boy agrees and silence momentarily falls upon the cabin.

“so…” Noel asks, determined to keep it light-hearted. “What do you think our pirate names should be?”

“Uh?”

“Well, we got Luna and the booty; I reckon we have to get proper names!”

The cook looks at him and a cheeky grin spreads across his face.

“Ye should be known as ‘Captain long John!’“

The boy blushes. “Why, thank you, quite the compliment coming from the infamous ‘Three Legged Barratt’!”

“Infamous am I?”

“Oh yes, you’re the dreaded pirate also known as ‘The Jolly Rogerer’“

Julian lets out an unexpected hearty chuckle and all seems right with the world again. “I go by many names, it seems”

“Yes, and you are much feared by all throughout the seven seas…” the boy continues, spurred “For your ruthless conquests, insatiable sexual prowess and, mainly, your cooking… it strikes terror in the hearts of many”

Noel beams as the cook lunges forward and bites his neck. “Ye better fear me, wench!” he says as he goes on to nibble his earlobe “I developed an appetite fer human flesh, and yers seems especially sweet”

Noel hunches up his shoulders and lets out an infectious and rolling childish laughter while he half-heartedly tries to peel the cook off him. But the man is too determined now that he’s seen the light.

Life should be dedicated to the extraction of giggles from the ticklish.

Julian rolls himself on top the boy and adds nimble fingers to aid him on his new found holy quest. Noel squeaks and wails like an infant. “HAHAHAHA! Oh god… no, no. Stop, stop. Nooooo! A little to the left! Heeeeeehahahahaha! Stop, please, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!!!”

He eventually takes pity on the poor boy and stops, he looks down at Noel and both turn perfectly quiet. The only sound heard is that of air leaving their mouths as their chests labour to rise and fall…

“No, we really should eat now” the cook says and rolls off, lies on his back.

“Yeah, we really should” the boy sighs.

“What does ‘Luna doodie’ mean anyway? Julian demands.

“Luna Dura. It’s ‘Hard Moon’ in Spanish… Don’t know why I chose it, really… think I like the idea of a captain sailing on a moon who’s all tough and edgy…”

“Yer mind is a strange place, Fieldin’“ The cook sighs “made of dark spots, twisted paths and wrong turns. But I wouldn’t mind getting’ lost there”

Another lopsided compliment…

But Noel’s happy with it. “I think I should be called Captain coeur de Noir” he declares.

“Captain what de what?”

“Coeur de Noir. That’s blackheart in French”

“Oh yeah, I forgot ye be French too.” Julian rolls his eyes. “But why would ye want tar be called that?”

“I don’t know” the boy mumbles “I have his map and treasure and that…”

“Anyway, it’s too long…” the cook cuts him off “Captain Noir is better!”

“I like it! ‘Captain Noir’… Has a nice ring to it”.

They lie still, shoulder to shoulder. The boy’s rolling the new name on his tongue, testing the sound… Then the cook clears his throat and commences in his surprisingly smooth and silky voice.

“We’re goin’ away to leave ye soon
Good bye, fare thee well
We’re Sailin’ away on a hard Moon
Hoorah, me boy, we’re homeward bound
Ah, give me the… um, monkey with the bonny brown hairHe gets a pointy elbow to the rib.

OW!…

Yer hair of brown is a magical crown
Onboard Captain Noir’s fine vessel we fare
Homeward bound to Sheffield town
So fill up yer glasses for those who were kind
And drink to the… dolphins we’re leavin’ behind
We’re homeward bound I hear ye say
We’re homeward bound with a treasure for pay
Our anchor we’ll weigh, our sails we will set
The bastards we be leavin’ we’ll try to forget”Noel snuggles up to Julian and puts his head on his chest. The man’s arms drape over him, one of his hands idly stroking his soft hair.

“Me lion” Noel sighs.

“Me cabbage” he answers.

“Me beauty” Noel insists.

“Me hearty” he replies.

“Me slave” Noel grins.

“Me master” he admits.

“Ju?”

“I’m here.”

“Never leave me”

“I won’t. I want to sing silly songs with ye fore’er.”

They remain cuddled in each others arms until they faint into a temporary goodbye.

---

He woke up. He didn’t know how long he was out, but it can’t have been more than an hour as it was still dark outside.

There was a strange sensation in the mid regions of his body and he realized that some parts of him were more awake than others.

… Hard not to be when Noel’s kissing you there.

He reared his head, trying to get a stronger grasp on the unfolding events.

He saw the boy resting between his legs looking at his member with joyous fascination, giving it quick pecks and petting it, waiting for reactions.

He was treating it as if it was a puppy and Julian was sure he’d start singing it lullabies at any second.

Instead, the boy raised his face to look at him. “Hey!”

“Um, hi!” the cook mumbled.

Noel replied with a mischievous grin and his head ducked out of sight.

Then Julian snapped into wakefulness in a split second, as the other man took him whole in his mouth.

Oh, dear. Not exactly what he meant when he said they should eat.

He shut his eyes, bit his lip, hard, and let Noel take control… he shortly found himself breathing heavily, for the other man licked and sucked with an almost relentless vigour.

It’s obvious the boy’s a quick learner and Julian should maybe have felt threatened… if he didn’t stand to be the sole beneficiary of that fact.

Pretty soon Noel added firm hands to pump one end or massage another and the more Julian moaned the more effort the boy seemed to put into it.

Then, in his eagerness, he made a gagging noise as it kept hitting the back of his throat. The cook opened his eyes in time to see Noel staring up at him and smiling through hollowed cheeks.

He was working so hard for no other reason than to give him pleasure, not asking for anything in return… and realization hit for the first time.

This must be what it feels like to be loved.

He was overwhelmed by the thought and perhaps scared by the revelation… There he was, with his lover’s head bobbing up and down while his own head jerked wildly, delirious with joy.

Then, just short of a climax, the boy withdrew. The cook threw his head back against the pillow in shock.

“FUCK, Noel!”

The other man smiled slyly. “Thought you’d never ask”

Seconds later and Noel was sitting astride, oiling the cook’s shaft then slowly lowered himself onto him until he hit the base, causing himself to whine and Julian to give a loud, long, trembling sigh.

With his hands rested on the other man’s chest for balance, Noel started rocking at a steady pace. The cook laid there not able to contribute much while the boy swayed as if he was riding a galloping horse… Only torturously slow.

He did it intentionally, Julian knew it, and he could have shifted weight and just flip Noel on his back, ravish him, but he was more intrigued to see what the boy had in mind.

He began to caress Noel’s surprisingly soft woolly thighs then moved up until his hands met his smooth ass and he grabbed it firmly. The boy gave an unexpected tremor but despite the hint, continued to lazily rotate his pelvis while his fingers dug in the cook’s flesh… dragged softly against his ribs… teased the nipples with the thumbs.

“God, please, Noel…”

Noel closed his eyes and kept the agonizing speed, ignoring the cook’s begging.

Cheeky monkey…

He looked up and examined him in awe. His brown hair fell over his marble-skinned face, his cheeks were flushed with pink, his engorged ruby lips were parted and his tongue was darting in and out with concentration…

Noel’s the most exquisitely gorgeous creature he’s ever seen and he’s so charming and loveable he could have had anyone he wanted… and yet he chose him. This fact kept catching him unaware, time and time again, and he wondered if he was more grateful or proud…

He felt as if Noel could read his mind because he opened his eyes to wink at him with a warm smile. Then he finally picked up the pace allowing the cook to bend his knees and thrust as the boy leaned in to kiss him thoroughly, swirling his tongue inside Julian’s mouth until he was dizzy.

He makes everything exciting and new—an adventure, and he makes him feel hopeful and carefree like a kid. Giving him the childhood he never had and the future he never thought he’d be allowed to get. He was destined for happiness and he’ll forever be indebted to him.

As the boy moved wantonly, his motions fast and untamed, Julian took Noel’s manhood in his hand and showed him his gratitude.

He bucked and threw his head back screaming Julian’s name and then the time for thoughts was over and there were only overpowering sensations…

---

When it was over and done, the boy fell on top of him and stayed there, panting and softly giggling. Julian stroked his hair and kissed him on the forehead.

“Noel, we really should eat and go to sleep” he was eventually out with it.

“Ummph” is all that the boy could bring himself to say.

The cook chortled and gave him a squashing hug. “Ye know I’m right… It’ll be a shame if ye went through all that trouble to save me only to kill us both shortly after”

Noel sighed in admittance. “Oh, alright… it’s time to pull the other sails open anyway”

“Right, ye do that while I make us breakfast”

Though he nodded in agreement a moment earlier, Noel looked genuinely disappointed as the cook wriggled out from underneath him.

Julian got up and put his trousers back on. A crucial move, he thought, if he ever wanted to get anything done. Noel grumbled in protest but when it fell on deaf ears he realized Julian meant business and got out of bed.

He glanced at the boy as he slinked into his breeches, grumpy faced. He’s so slender and smooth and he moved both gracefully and gawkily at the same time. The silk shirt’s soft material just cascaded over his body and he shook his head to free his hair from the collar and this made him momentarily woozy and he’s so pretty with those big blue eyes peering behind his stray fringe… AAAAH!!!! Stop it, stop it, stop it!

He rushed to the cooking area and looked through the ingredients available to him, trying to work himself into a distraction.

Noel quickly headed out to the deck, no doubt eager to finish the task as fast as humanly possible, and Julian began to prepare their food.

He made a pot of rice to go along the colourful vegetables he sliced and fried on a strange skillet with a drizzle of oil, a touch of sugar and a black salty sauce he found in a bottle…

“Sonofabiscuitbarrel!”

He could hear the falling of objects and Fielding’s stream of swear words, as he struggled above his head. He smiled to himself. Never did he think he’ll miss those sweet sounds of incompetence so much.

“GRRRR!!!”

He examined the humble feast he prepared and nodded to himself in content.

The colourful exotic fruits he diced for desert looked so vibrant and juicy and beautiful… Just like Noel. Sometime soon he’ll have to rub them all over Noel’s naked body and lick him clean…

But not now, right now they are both just in desperate need of nourishment and should really try and focus on that, as hard a task as this may prove to be.

There were dragging noises and more profanities coming from the deck, and the cook was so happy he made an effort with this meal, for the boy was certainly working hard to earn it.

It looked delicious and the smell was intoxicating and it made him feel alive. Like Noel does…

God, he really needed to stop this.

Overhead the swearing seemed to have died down and he guessed the boy must be finished. He looked at the food one more time. Then took two luscious and succulent looking red fruits and set them aside, smirking.

Oh, alright, maybe Noel can be the dessert.

“I be thinkin’“ he called to the boy as he grabbed the trey and made his way out into the break of day “we can use some of the money to re-open my old orphanage and maybe we can manage it toge—”

He didn’t even notice he dropped it, until the trey hit the floor, scattering the food and drinks all around.

---

Noel stood there, his head tilt back with Mann’s hand over his mouth and a pistol to his temple. The captain was dripping water and panting heavily, a mad glint in his eyes.

“Hello, Julian, nice of you to join us!”

Julian began shaking and seemed as if he was about to faint… The look of terror on his face—the real treasure!

“Not polite to leave without goodbye. Tut-tut…”

The cook summoned all his powers and regained his balance. “W-what do you want?”

“I’ll give you three guesses”

“Yer treasure.”

“Very good! And on your first guess!” He nudged the barrel against Noel’s head, “Your boyfriend is very clever!” then turned to the cook again “Now you. Go get the loot!”

“Please, let him go. You can do whatever you want with me, just please don’t hurt…”

“My finger is getting twitchy, Barratt!” he pushed the pistol once more and the boy gave a tortured ummph in return.

Julian nodded and hurried to disappear down the cabin.

“Won’t be long now” Mann whispered in Noel’s ear. He could smell Julian’s scent all over the boy and he instinctively tightened his grip on his face, making the head tilt further back. Noel winced with pain.

“What is it about you?” he hissed. “I mean, you’re not a real woman… and by god, you’re definitely not a man… Damn, I wouldn’t even say you’re a boy! You’re pathetic…”

The cook emerged from the stairs carrying a heavy crate. He put it down in front of Mann with difficulty. The captain signalled him with his head and Julian obeyed by opening the lid of the chest. He realized he never thought to look at the contents of the boxes till now.

It was like being hit across the face with a bright shiny slap.

Grails and tiaras and jewelleries embedded with diamonds and emeralds and rubies and pearls rested sparkling between coins glittering in silver and gold.

The captain quickly closed his gaping mouth. “Is that it?”

The cook shook himself back to reality and closed the box. “No, there’s five more down there. I’m getting them now… please don’t do anythi…”

“I’m getting sick by the sound of your voice, Barratt, better shut up and move”

The cook nodded and ran down, nearly tripping on the way. The sound of dragged crates closely followed.

“Where was I? Oh, yes, you’re pathetic. I pity you, girl!”

Noel let out a heavy sigh.

“You think he wouldn’t have left you? Well, if you two stood a chance to survive this morning, that is?

As soon as you reached civilization, let me tell you!”

Noel tried to shake his head, but the captain’s grip was too strong.

“Oh, yes, and deep down you know it.

Real men, you see, have needs and during a long voyage you just have to make do. Take whatever’s available, no matter how disgusting… You’re just another rotting cabbage“

The boy groaned.

Julian appeared and laid another crate, glanced worryingly at Noel and headed back down.

“I’m doing you a favour” Mann whispered “Saving you from heartbreak”

Long hours he suffered following Julian to the boat, hiding in the water, then climbing onboard and being forced to hear them… see them… all over each other… giggling and moaning… happy… and not even once did he mention his name! Not ONCE!

It boiled his blood and he devised his plan. He knew exactly what he wanted. All he had to do was bide his time until it was the right hour to act…

“HURRY UP, COOK, I’M LOSING PATIENCE!” he called out.

The cook reappeared with another chest seconds later only to vanish again.

“Soon, whore. Soon…”

Noel wriggled, tugging at the captain’s arm with his two hands.

“Quit yer struggling! Do you want me to hit you again?”

“Mmmph!”

“Shut up!”

“Mmmpppph!”

“Shut it! I’m not interested in what you have to say… EEEW!”

He abruptly dropped his hand in disgust and stepped away from the boy, stretching his other arm to point the gun at Noel.

“D-did you just lick my hand?! What are you, four?!”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?!”

At first the captain looked furious then his expression changed into amused contempt. “You think begging me would help?” he sniggered. “I assure you your whiney voice would only make my hand more unstable. See? It’s already trembling”

“No, I just want to understand why?”

“Why what?” he rolled his eyes “Why I’m doing this? Why am I taking back what’s mine and making you pay? Blimey, you’re as dumb as you are repulsive.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“AFRAID? Of what, bitch?”

“I don’t know… you had him for so long I don’t think you can even imagine your life without him…”

“WHAT?!” the vain in the captain’s temple was visibly throbbing.

“Do you even remember yourself before him?”

“Damn it, whore, don’t make me shoot you before he gets here!”

“How boring would your life be…”

“SHUT IT! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do, bitch!”

“I’ve seen what you did to him. You don’t do that to just anyone…”

The captain hit the boy across the cheek with the butt of the gun and Noel fell to his knees. He heard the cook climbing the stairs and got back on his feet as quick as he could, trying his best not to sway and look unruffled.

“Wow. This… one… was heavy….” the cook wheezed. He noticed the boy standing away from Mann’s hold and it disoriented him for a second. Then he recovered “Here be all the loot, captain.”

“Very good, cook.”

“Um, what ye be plannin’ on doin’ with us now?” he tried to sound as respectful as he could.

“I have my plans, boy” Mann said with a sly smile.

“Ye said ye let us go.”

“That was before I found out you scurvy bitches stole from me again!

And besides, as your little friend here suggested, I’m not sure, I might have some use for you yet.”

The cook looked confused at the boy, who was avoiding his gaze and staring at his feet.

“Now do exactly as I say! Anyone of you tries something and I shoot the other one. Clear?!”

“You’re out-numbered” Noel exclaimed “You can’t possibly shoot the two of us!”

“Probably not” Mann replied calmly “But could either of you risk it?”

Both their hearts sank.

“Go stand with your back to that mast, Barratt!”

“Please, captain. Don’t do this”

“Shut up, Barratt, and move or the whore gets a new hole in her gut!”

The cook did as he was told.

“Now you!” the captain pointed the gun at Noel. “Take that rope and tie him to the pole! Facing me!”

Noel took the cook’s hands and fastened them together to the back and around the post. When he finished he discreetly entangled his fingers in Julian’s and squeezed. Then, just as quickly, the hand was gone and Julian’s was left bare, desperately searching Noel’s touch in vain.

The cook banged his head back against the mast, deflated.

“Make sure you do a good job of it, girl. If he succeeds in breaking away, I’ll shoot him. Do you understand me?”

Noel nodded. He knew exactly what he meant.

He went back and pulled the rope even tighter with a sharp tug and Julian let out a surprised cry of pain.

Without looking at his lover, Noel secured the knot again and stepped away.

Realization dawned and Julian struggled against the bonds with heartsick. “Oh, god, no, no, no, please captain, don’t do this!”

“Good. Now gag him.” Mann reached into his jacket, took his handkerchief and handed it to Noel.

“Oh, god, please, captain… Jack, Jack, please, look at me, I be beggin’ ye, don’t do this. Ye have the booty and ye have all the power, ye don’t have to do thummphhhhh…”

“You know the rules, little girl… He makes too much noise, and he gets a bullet!”

“Mooooo, Pwese!” the cook cried.

Noel pulled the gag tighter until the cook started to cough.

“That’s a good little whore. Now go stand in front of him.”

Noel silently obeyed.

“… And to answer you, Julian, no, I don’t have to do this… But I want to.

I want you to stand right where you are while I shoot your bitch and you have to watch her as she slowly bleeds at your feet.”

The cook charged forward only to be held back by the strong bounds. He thrashed and flailed like mad, but to no avail.

“I want you to see the life slowly drain out of her, until her eyes are hollow and blank.

I want you to watch her die again…

And I always get what I want”

Julian fell to his knees, shaking his head from side to side and begging the captain through the gag, tears washing his face…

Noel was looking at him quietly, fighting the will to break down, himself.

“Aw, look at her, Julian, trembling like a leaf. And her back is already dripping with sweat… scared, little girl?

You should be.

Look at the cook and tell him how scared you are.”

“I’m very scared…” Noel said submissively, trying to ignore Julian’s muffled wail.

“But, erm, actually, that’s not sweat, that’s off your soggy clothes”

“Oh, ye. Well, it makes no difference because in a second you’ll be drenched in your own blood. How does knowing that make you feel, girl? Tell the cook”

“You’re all wet…”

“Yes, you mentioned that, do you mind?!”

“You’re all wet!”

“You’re a little special in the head, aren’t you? RIGHT! Look at her, Julian, for the last time!” he called smilingly and cocked his gun.

Julian turned his face and looked up at the boy, and their eyes locked.

Suddenly everything turned still and quiet around them.

There was no wind blowing,

No waves crashing,

No words of contempt spat by the captain,

Julian couldn’t even hear the sound of his own heart pounding.

They gazed at each other with big wide eyes for who knows how long…

Then Noel smiled sweetly, as if to say “Don’t worry, Ju, it’s all going to be alright”.

The captain pulled the trigger and the boy fell instantly to the floor, the cook’s gut wrenching howl ripping the air despite the gag.

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMPPH!!!!!!”

“What the hell?” the captain glared furiously at his cold, unfired gun.

“You’re all wet” Noel looked up at Mann and smiled.

Then he pulled the cord he held in his hand with all his might and it sent the front sail crashing into the captain, knocking him out and sweeping him off board.

---

The two dolphins were leisurely swimming along, enjoying the quiet waters of dawn, when a strange body fell by them.

The smaller dolphin looked at the unconscious creature slowly and continually descending…

“Nope, not gonna bother!”

“Good for you!” the larger dolphin said, impressed.

The smaller dolphin beamed proudly as the two peacefully swam away.

---

They stood on deck nestled in each other’s arms for ten minutes before either of them could speak. Nor did they feel the need to. Words would fail them.

Just breathing in the scent of the skin, sensing the warmth and bulk of the body and feeling the heartbeats of the other man was all they could ask for.

“Ye clever boy!” the cook finally called.

“I am, aren’t I?!” Noel said with his chin raised.

“No.” Julian retracted “Not a boy, ye be a clever man!”

“That’s captain clever Man to you!”

“Well, captain, thank ye for savin’ me”

“No, it was you who saved me…”

“Some people are worth savin’, Fieldin’“

“Some treasures are worth hunting, Barratt.”

And as the cook grabbed his face with big hands and pulled him in, sealing their mouths with an unbreakable kiss, young master Fielding remembered how wrong he was all those months ago.

Being beaten, kidnapped and sent aboard a pirate ship was very rarely a good thing, but at least on one occasion in history, it was the best.

The scurvy endin’

---

End Notes: If you got this far and read these lines, then I must have done something right, but I have no way of knowing so please, please comment (or I’ll assume you stopped reading after the first paragraph)!

Thank you!