Captain Blackheart’s treasure
What would happen if Noel and Julian lived in mid 18th century England.
Or what do you get when you tastelessly mix The Boosh, Brokeback mountain and anything by Robert Louis Stevenson…? A twisted Pirates tale.
Beta by the wonderful plainJane.
Oh, and GIVE ME FEEDBACK, PLEASE!
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
Chapter 4 – What’s so good about Goodbyes?
Contents
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.