Chapter Seventeen

"Three cheers for Lieutenant Kennedy!" yelled a drunken Oldroyd, almost falling over as he stood up on a stool and raised his mug. "Hip hip..."

"Hooray!"

"Hip hip..."

"Hooray!"

"Hip hip..."

"Hooray!"

Archie raised his mug to the men, who cheered enthusiastically and downed their own mugs of ale. Archie grinned into his as he looked across the table at Horatio, taking a long drink before he spoke.

"I think they're more excited than I am. Of course, it could just be because it's a reason for them all to get drunk on their arses."

Horatio laughed. "No doubt it is a combination of both. They can use the release. You worked hard for this, Archie, and the men know as well as I do how much you deserve it."

Archie nodded, then looked down at the table. "Thank you, Horatio," he said as he raised his eyes back to meet his friend's. "For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Archie, though thanks are hardly necessary. You did this on your own," Horatio said as he looked around. "This is quite the pub you found for us to celebrate in."

It was a cozy little pub, mostly inhabited right now by Indefatigable crew, but bright and cheerful. Styles and Matthews were coaxing Walters and Whitney into a chorus of "Heart of Oak" in the corner, while other crew members were flirting with the bar maids who were serving them. It was a loud and rambunctious group, but overall so far they had behaved themselves, and the sound of laughter was like a symphony to Archie. Even though he hadn't let it show, he'd been very nervous about this day, and he was relieved that it was finally over, that he had gotten the results he wanted.

"I'm glad you like it. I don't remember ever being here before, but I suppose I could have been. It just sounded like a pleasant, fun place to spend this evening." He raised his mug to Horatio. "To The Prancing Pony."

"The Prancing Pony," Horatio agreed, raising his own. He looked around the room, noting many of Indefatigable's crew still drinking and enjoying themselves. His division was here, along with Walters, Whitney, and Haversham from Archie's, and various others. Briefly, he wondered where Malley and Fuller were, but quickly pushed that to the back of his mind. It was just as well that they weren't here, for they would have cast a pall over the happy atmosphere, and Archie didn't need that. Tonight was a celebration.

"Horatio, I think I've had a few too many, here."

Horatio snorted into his mug. "You think so?" Archie had been enjoying himself immensely this evening, and had downed mug after mug of the potent ale. "Feeling a bit drunk, Lieutenant Kennedy?"

Archie smiled widely, practically lighting up the entire interior of the pub. "I do like the sound of that, Lieutenant Hornblower. But no, actually, I feel wonderful, not drunk. However, I do find myself badly in need of the head."

"Ah," said Horatio. "I rather feel the need myself." He looked around. "Um..."

Archie rose to his feet, and pulled Horatio to his. "Come on, man, the alley's just outside the back door there."

Horatio looked at him, dark eyes wide in the soft lamplight. "In public, Archie?"

"Hardly public, sir. I can tell that you spend no time in this type of establishment - it's common practice to relieve yourself in the alley, and come right back in and drink some more. Come on, man, let's get to it." He grabbed Horatio's arm and nearly dragged him across the room to the back door.

Horatio yanked his arm out of Archie's hand, nearly tipping over backwards with his effort. "I do not need your assistance, Mr. Kennedy," he said. "I am quite capable of walking on my own two feet."

Archie laughed as they went out the door. "Well, you just make sure everything of yours stays on your own two feet."

Horatio made a face. "Not amusing, Mr. Kennedy. I certainly do not need your help in carrying out that particular procedure."

"Good, because you're not getting it."

Horatio moved off to the far end of the alley, away from Archie, who didn't seem bothered by the fact that he was illuminated by the lantern at the opposite end of the alley. His business completed, he looked around and saw that Archie had also finished his.

"Ready for more celebration, Mr. Kennedy?"

"Indeed I am, Mr. Hornblower."

"I'm pleased to hear it, sir. Shall we?"

"Yes, we - " Archie's voice broke off as a pair of strong arms encircled his chest, pinning his arms. Alarmed, Horatio started toward him, cursing the fact that neither of them had brought any weapons to the celebration.

"Archie!"

"Oh, you ain't gonna be able to help him none," came a sneering voice from behind him. Slowly, Horatio turned around, to find Malley, standing in the darkness with a knife in one hand and a pistol in the other. He glanced over his shoulder at Archie, who was standing stock still in Fuller's arms, a knife at his throat, his eyes locked on Horatio's face.

"Malley, Fuller, put the weapons down," Horatio ordered angrily. "Surely you know the punishment for assaulting an officer."

"Don't care," Malley said, slowly waving the knife. "Ain't no one here to see, and ain't neither one o' you gonna be alive to tell the tale."

"Don't be ridiculous," snapped Horatio, advancing forward. Malley jerked his head, and Horatio heard a muffled cry behind him. He spun around. Fuller had drawn the knife just barely across Archie's neck, and a thin line of blood ringed his neck like a ruby necklace, small teardrops of crimson hanging like jewels. Horatio turned back to Malley, but spoke to Fuller.

"Let him go, Fuller. If you harm him, I'll kill you myself."

Malley laughed. "Best part o' plannin' this was decidin' which one o' you was gonna die first. Then I thought, priv'lege o' rank, 'n' 'Ornblower goes first. That way, Kennedy gets t' see 'is lover bleed t' death 'fore 'is own eyes."

"You planned this?" Archie's voice was full of disdain. Horatio couldn't help but notice he was using his aristocratic 'can't be bothered with these peasants' voice, the one Archie - the old Archie - had often used to mock his family. "Good god, Malley, I knew you were incompetent, but this is just plain stupid. You are not at all bright, are you."

"Shut up," Malley hissed, pointing the pistol at Archie, but keeping an eye on Horatio. "I's bright enough t' catch you, wasn't I? Mebbe I'll just shoot you 'tween the legs, then you can watch 'Orblower die. I think I might jus' enjoy that even more."

"Try it, you coward," said Archie. "Of course, all you'll manage to do is shoot your mate Fuller here instead. You couldn't hit the Indy if you were standing right beside her."

"Shut up," Malley said again. "You 'ave a mind t' fight, ya snivelin' dog?"

…A bright sunny day on the deck of Indefatigable. Crisp air caressing the faces of the men as they looked joyously up at Captain Pellew as he bellowed, "You have a mind to fight?" Cheers from the men, and a great happiness bubbling up inside Archie. A sense of belonging, a sense of companionship and duty never felt aboard Justinian…

Archie froze at the unexpected memory. He looked down the long alley, but couldn't see Horatio's face in the shadows, just the shadowed outline of his body. Malley was still behind him, and he could catch the light glinting off the pistol he held in his hand, though his face was not visible either.

"Not with you," he said contemptuously. "I couldn't count on you for a fair fight. Or are you going to have Fuller bash me over the head again, like he did at the Mermaid?"

Malley chuckled. "Tweren't him at the Mermaid."

"I'd expect it of you, Malley, though I know it wasn't you who actually hit me. That's the only way you can win, isn't it - to have your mates do your fighting for you? You certain sure can't do it yourself."

Malley laughed outright, his head thrown back and his feet planted wide. "I did it pretty fine on t'e Indy, dint I? You wasn't even lookin', wasn't payin' attention to nothin'. It were so easy t' sneak up b'hind you 'n' hit you with that powder bucket."

"It was you," Horatio broke in angrily. "Assaulting an officer will get you the noose, Malley."

"Not if no one knows 'bout it," Malley answered. He looked at Archie. "I tole you I wasn't no powder monkey."

"No, you were right," Archie said, testing Fuller's grip on him and getting nowhere. "That would be an insult to all the powder monkeys in the fleet."

Malley swore and moved forward. Horatio, seeing his attention focused on Archie, leapt forward and grabbed for his arm, trying to wrestle the gun away. The two men struggled for a moment, the pistol pointed skyward, until Horatio squeezed Malley's hand so tightly that the gun went off, the blast echoing down the long alley.

"Horatio!" Archie cried in panic. He couldn't see anything in the shadows, couldn't tell if Horatio was hit.

…A duel? Are you mad? Simpson's reckoned one of the best shots in the Navy…It ends here, Archie…one way or another... I have an even chance…

"What's the matter?" Fuller growled in his ear. "Gonna miss your little plaything when he's dead?"

…Hello, Archie...Jack's missed you, boy…

"Horatio!" Archie was desperate. He could see two shadows separating in the darkness, but couldn't tell if either man was hit. The lamplight from behind him again gleamed dully against the shaft of the knife in Malley's hand.

...You must keep your head, or you will lose it...

"I'm all right, Archie," Horatio called.

"Not fer long," growled Malley, advancing with the knife held in front of him. "Fuller, after I stick 'im, you cut Kennedy's throat."

"You're too much of a coward," said Horatio, turning his back and walking away from the burly sailor. "Too weak to - "

Malley roared and stumbled forward, knife extended. "Damn off'cer!" he cried, and thrust the knife home.

"No!" Archie screamed, struggling futilely against Fuller's powerful grip. Horatio, now visible in the lamplight from behind Archie, stopped dead in his tracks. Across the vast darkness between them, his eyes met Archie's as the knife was driven home. Pain flashed through them, followed by a steady awareness as he slowly dropped to his knees, his eyes never leaving Archie's.

"NO!" Archie screamed again, thrusting his elbow back as hard as he could into Fuller's side. Fuller grunted and bent over a little, his hold loosening just enough for Archie to slip from his grasp, but his hands grabbed Archie's jacket as he tried to escape. Fuller hauled him back, wrapping his arms around him once again. Archie struggled as best he could, but Fuller was much stronger than he was, and he couldn't get away.

"Let me go, dammit," he nearly sobbed. "Horatio!"

A pair of arms came out from behind Fuller and wrapped around Fuller's neck. Archie looked up into Haversham's face. "I have him, sir," Haversham panted. "Go."

Archie turned and fled down the long alley, fear making it hard to breath. Oh, god, don't let him be dead, he prayed. Not Horatio. Please.

…A bridge…Horatio trapped on the other side, on his knees over a body…the fuse lit…no time for thought, only time for flight…racing, his heart beating as fast as his feet were flying…puffs of dust rising from beneath his feet…the men yelling for him to come back, it was too late…

He reached Horatio, who had fallen face-first into the dirt, his eyes unfocused. Dropping to his knees beside him, Archie prayed for a sign of life, and as he did, Horatio's body twitched in his arms.

...Hornblower, cut a reel...Dance, I say! Dance! Dance! Dance! Staccato thumps accompanied the words, Jack yelling...

"Horatio?" he said as he gently lifted his friend up, lifting and pushing aside his jacket to inspect the wound. Blood stained the back of the white shirt, turning it a dull, rusty color. Oh, god, there was so much blood. "Horatio, can you hear me?" *Don't you die on me, dammit!*

...Light and life were fading from him, nothing mattered anymore, he only wished for the sweet release of death...do you have a sweetheart in England, Archie?...

"Archie?" He almost missed the faint whisper.

"I'm here, Horatio."

...We won't survive without you...

A soft whisper met his ear. "Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't."

"Horatio?"

Horatio slid down further, his eyes empty and his body going limp in Archie's arms. Archie held him close as yet another memory assaulted him.

…The cell in El Ferrol. Horatio released from the oubliette after six long days…His return to the cell, the guards dropping him…Archie and Hunter easing him to the floor, Archie's arms wrapping around him…

"Mr. Kennedy!" It was Walters and Whitney, alerted by the sound of the gun firing. They started to rush down the alley, but stopped when Malley moved between them and the two officers.

"Git back!" Malley yelled, waving the knife at them. "Git back, all of ya! I gotta kill 'em both! We don't need neither one of 'em!"

...You're one of us...

"What are you doin'?" Walters yelled. "You'll hang fer this, you fool!"

"Don't care!" Malley screamed. "Ain't gonna serve with no buggerers! Damn filthy sodomites, the both of 'em!"

...His father's study at Kennedy Manor. His father in a rage, Archie, barely 20 years of age and newly returned from prison, trembling before him.

"Is it true?" his father screams.

"Father, it is not what you think..."

"Dammit, you pathetic boy, I asked you a question. Yes or no. Have you been intimate with this man Simpson?"

Archie, tears rolling down his face, can only answer honestly. "Yes."

Disgust, horror, revulsion - all expressed plainly on Lord Kennedy's aristocratic features. His hand snakes out, striking Archie hard across the face. Archie stumbles back, then recovers and looks at the man before him.

"Father, please listen..."

"Listen? Listen to my son explain why he is a filthy sodomite? You disgusting creature."

"No, Father, please, I didn't want it - he forced me..."

"Get out," Lord Kennedy says coldly. "The servants will pack your bags and send them to that den of iniquity you live on. Never step foot upon these lands again."

"Didn't you hear me?" Archie cries in desperation. "He raped me."

"If you were any kind of man, he could never have forced you. You wanted him. You could have fought him off, but you wanted his hands on you, you wanted him to do filthy, ungodly things to you. You are a weakling - always have been, all your life. Fits. Spells. Theatre, music, books - I knew I should have forced you to hunt. You've never in your life been anything but a disappointment and embarrassment to this family. You're a damn girl, that's what you are. Revolting."

"No," Archie says, his voice and heart breaking. "I am your son."

"Not any more," Lord Kennedy says. "I disclaim all knowledge of you. If you ever appear here again, I'll have you shot as an intruder, and your body drawn and quartered and fed to the buzzards so there is nothing left. Get out."

Anger roared through Archie as memory after memory flooded his mind; Jack's filthy hands on him; Horatio's brave stand against him; capture and imprisonment and his own prayer for death; his soul torn from him as he endured day after endless day in the dark, dank oubliette; his spirit finally beaten down with the appearance of Horatio and his men at the prison; his wish to end all the pain and slip away into the constant night; standing high atop the Indy's mast, soaring above the world and all its sorrows, feeling his soul reborn - it all came back to him, every little instant of his life. He rose to his feet like an avenging god, launching himself at Malley.

"Oof!" Malley grunted as Archie barreled into him, knocking him down, the knife flying from his grip. Archie, knowing nothing now but the heat of his anger and the coldness of his fear for Horatio, began pummeling him, hitting him harder and harder, over and over.

"Stop!" Malley cried, trying to protect his face with his hands. "Yer killin' me!"

Strong arms touched Archie's shoulders, pulling him away from the beaten man. He shrugged them off and again went after Malley, who was now curled into a fetal position, begging for his life.

"Easy, Mr. Kennedy," came Walter's calm voice. "We got 'im, sir. You see to Mr. 'Ornblower."

Horatio. With a cry, Archie thrust Malley away from him and ran to Horatio's side. Gently, he pushed back a lock of curly hair from the sweaty face. "Horatio?"

There was no answer.

...Sleep now, Archie, it's only a bad dream...

If only that were so.