Bush was unconcerned when the ship went to default at eight bells. Standard procedure. Panic did not begin to swell in his brain until two men hoisted the grating up to the rail and lashed it in place. Gods, who would it be this time?
The Captain could not really expect the men to allow this- this charade to continue… He was falling lower and lower into a pit of drugged obsession, which the surgeon, Good Doctor Clive, was more than happy to keep producing with his abundant use of opiates… Good God, this voyage was nothing more than a sham of military decency, a terrible misuse of such a beautiful ship- and he had such hopes for the future. Now it seemed that he would hardly survive this (rather mundane) cruise.
"All hands." The madman muttered, rather blithely, as if requesting a glass of sherry.
"ALL HANDS!" Came the roar from the second lieutenant, sending the crew scattering about the deck into their various divisions…The bosun presented himself by the grating, an expression of disgust and exhaustion across his grizzled face.
"Good, glad to see my orders are still obeyed… but it is through your voice… "
Good God, not again. How many times had he had to kiss the arse of this… his mad master? A perpetual cycle of shame and debauchery surrounded the man… yet, he would kiss up to him, again, and again.
Bush forced aside his thoughts and fought for a semblance of even temper, deciding that this was a comment best left ignored.
The keys rattled in the lock, and a pile of loose clothing struck bare flesh.
"Get up, bugger, you're needed on deck."
Horatio glared up with the venom of a snake.
"Which one of us 'buggers' do you wish to appear on deck?"
"Either, but as you're the one walking' - "
A hand seized his arm and heaved him to his feet, Archie rolling on his back with a wince.
"Horatio, what's…"
"Nothing… stay there… I'll be back soon…"
He tugged the scraps of clothing on at random, some articles bearing stains he didn't wish to know the origins of, and allowed the marine to lead him out of the cell.
The berths were empty, and echoed in a terrible roar, hollow and empty in the depths of his heart as fear rose like a wave over his every sense. But- Strength! If- whatever had happened to Archie… If he was to suffer… He would suffer equally.
The sun was pitiless, and roasted his skin through the thin cambric of his shirt. Steady, steady…
Noise exploded around him the second his face met sunlight - screams and jeers from men who had once admired him, gazed up to him with something like reverence in their eyes… Names were hurled at him, filthy things - Arse-bandit, shit-stabber -
"Seize him up!"
Horatio glanced to the quarter deck in alarm - they hadn't even read the charges! If this were a beating out of mercy, then surely - !
Bush met his eyes, anger and fear written into the depths.
There was nothing he could do but stand by, and watch a man he had held in the highest esteem… Venerated, even- as the fabric of his clothes were shredded from his body, and the whip began to sing over the lapping of the waves.
Six hundred lashes…
The sentence had seemed like a death knell - not quite though, he reminded himself bitterly, that was to come later…
The first blow was like flame to his skin - odd, he was almost insensible of it until the second it had passed, and by then the next lash had struck.
He only cried out once- briefly- at the first, when the cat slashed his shoulder- and determined immediately not to do so again.
Good God, the man was truly insane. How could anyone take, let alone SURVIVE six hundred lashes? It was worse than any death sentence… he holy hoped the pain would break him before his spine would. And this was leniency! He shuddered at the thought of a full one thousand… but evidently, Sawyer wanted the man to walk to his trial.
Deep in the dungeons of his black despair, Archie heard the voice of his angel, and wept as he screamed, again and again, as he was broken.
Eventually he ceased his screaming, and went into a half-lucid silence, blood spilling down his lips from where he'd bitten himself in an effort to stay silent.
It was only when the young man's head fell back, dark curls sticky with splattered blood and his eyes glazed over, that William Bush finally lost his temper.
"Sir-I beg of you… give him some mercy! Any man would-"
"What man, Mr. Bush, I see only a mewling bugger!"
"Sir, you MUST stop this- isn't it enough that he should die in Kingston, or are you trying to torture the poor boy in his death?"
There was silence, as palpable as the faint breeze that stirred on the surf, as the Captain drew near, and Matthews ceased his labors.
"Am I to assume that you are in league with these- conspirators? Or are you a filthy little cock-whore yourself?"
He stiffened, trying desperately to remember that he must not win HIMSELF a straight path to the gallows by striking a superior…
"I'm merely trying to suggest that the Admiralty might not approve of being denied the chance to exercise proper justice…"
"Oh, I suppose you might be right…"
The man seemed to be slipping away into the ocean before his eyes… Before the Doctor could get to him, he fell to his knees.
"Let him down, Mr. Bush. Before-"
Horatio felt the pull in his shoulders, and feared for a moment that his weight might tug the limbs straight from their settings. A groan of pain ended in a startled whimper as strong hands met the wet flesh covering his rib cage…
"Steady, Lieutenant… steady there…"
His tongue was throbbing where he'd bitten it over and over, yet he managed to force out a soft noise-
"Wuh-Will - Will'm…"
His heart dropped to his knees, as he took in the pitiful sight.
"Shh… quiet now, I'll take you back in a moment… Just rest…"
What could he do? The man was- he was so… they had…
Bush had seen men beaten… but never to this extent.
One of the less squeamish ratings caught his other arm, and together they heaved him back down to the hold, blood dripping in a gory trail across the deck.
Archie was curled into a corner of the cell, the cast-offs ill-fitting on his slim frame - he jumped at the sound of the door screeching open, and his pretty face went white as snow.
"H-Horatio- !"
Dark curls puddled on the deck as they laid him on his belly, eyelids fluttering…
"Dear God…"
His lover shot a glare at the second lieutenant, with an undisguised plea in his blue eyes…
Bush nodded curtly, and backed out of the cell.
Horatio heard a strange, sort of squelching sound from below, and woke with a start.
"Archie- Archie! Do you… "
Blond hair rolled into dampness as the man opposite shook himself awake.
"What is that ungodly noise?"
"I-it's like… mud…"
No sooner had the words left his lips than the whole ship rocked forward violently, throwing both men against the wall.
"Dear God-!"
Horatio ground his teeth in agony, and growing rage.
"We're aground! The madman's run us aground!"
The night air was breezy, cold and almost- no, it was just the fog that made it appear ghostly. A lurching sent him careening through the darkness, and he cried out, grasping tightly to the yardarm as he fell.
"Hanging from the nearest yardarm, aye, that I can do."
Wellard shook, his hands slipping from their monkey's grip…
His hands seemed to be greased with pig gristle, and he felt the burn against his palms. Tears of pain began to stream as the boy fought to keep himself in the air, but ultimately the attempt was futile…
It was only by pure, blessed chance that he landed atop a pile of cable, thus rendering the fall merely damaging instead of fatal…
He could taste something bitter at the back of his throat, and with a roll of nausea spilled the contents of his stomach across the deck.
Someone lifted his head, and from somewhere distant he could hear a voice, shouting to him...
"Damn him… that's another- Boy, can you hear me?"
He began to reel, the visage of the rough seaman twisting in his pain. He began to laugh.
"Stiles… What was that awful lurch? And-"
Fire, dust and splinters of wood met his words, a roar exploding from every side.
"Get him below, a dead boy's no use on the quarter deck!"
"Aye sir!"
Henry felt as though he were floating, something throbbed softly at the back of his skull -
"Sir… Kenn…" he breathed from slack lips...
There was a loud banging, noises and shouts rang out in the darkness, as explosions rocked the ship with lead and iron and fire.
"Damn you, let us out, or we shall all die here!"
No one paid them any mind, too preoccupied with their own preparations for battle.
"God damned freaks." A rating muttered, before vanishing behind a gun.
Hobbs appeared, for the briefest of moments, his back turned to the men as they shouted. Then, like a miracle formed from the very soul of heaven above, came Lt. Bush, barking orders in a tone close more to irony than anger or fear.
"Load – starboard battery."
He'd never sounded so apathetic…
Horatio almost thought him a god, as he sighed, letting excess air from his lungs.
"Bush!" He screamed. "Bush, please, I beg of you, let us out, or we shall all die!"
The lieutenant seemed to be biting his lip, his eyes gazing to heaven.
"I can't do that, Mr. Hornblower."
Horatio set his jaw, fingers curling fiercely around the bars.
"William-!"
The cannon ball, finding it's way through the wood and metal of the bow, seemed to provide the answer.
"Stand back."
The pistol clicked, and sparks flew against iron as a bullet punched through the lock.
With little on their bodies save skin and a thin layer of linen, they set about freeing the ship, letting the cannons double fire in a wild attempt to free the ship from her predicament. Unbelievably, it worked, and they were underway, with Horatio confused about where the fire had come from.
"What did Sawyer say, before he ran us aground?"
"Mad ramblings, but…"
Horatio's dark eyes narrowed to slits.
"But what, William?"
He swallowed uncomfortably.
"Captain Sawyer condemned us all as sodomites, and then stated that he would lead us all into hell himself. Then he changed course, and…"
"You have nothing to fear in this matter, sir, he is dead."
They spun around, to find themselves caught in Clive's steady gaze, for once seemingly sober.
"Recorded as expired due to a bullet through the skull."
Bush visibly released his tension, allowing himself to smile for a brief moment.
Horatio was not amused.
"He changed course… where the devil are we?"
"South of Santo Domingo."
"Good then; bring us about north- "
Splinters flew in every direction as a shell burst on the port side of the ship.
" - take us out of their fire, at any rate."
"But the first Lieutenant, sir?"
"Just do it! He'll concede it was best at the time!"
Within minutes the water was breaking steadily across the ship's bow, and every rating had fixed them with a look of stone or numb shock…
Sorry this chapter was short... But the next will be long and... We promise we'll do better. Feedback! Please, give us feedback!