Chapter Eighteen

"Horatio?" Archie said anxiously, but still there was no answer. "Dammit," he swore in a hushed tone, then looked up at the crowd gathering. "Where's the nearest doctor?" he yelled to them.

Matthews, looking quite shaken, pushed his way through the crowd. "Dr. Hepplewhite was 'avin' dinner just down the way, sir. Oldroyd went to fetch him." He knelt beside Archie and looked at him. "How is 'e, sir?"

Archie shook his head. "I just don't know, Matthews," he said helplessly. "He won't answer me." He took a deep breath, then put a hand to his friend's throat, closing his eyes as relief washed over him. "He's still breathing."

"Aye, that's all we need t' see," Matthews said comfortingly. "He'll be up 'n' 'round in no time." He looked up into the crowd. "Styles!" he called.

Styles pushed his way through the crowd of men. "What can I do, Matty?"

Matthews jerked his head toward Malley, still held tightly by Walters and Whitney. "Take care of that brute," he said brusquely.

"It'll be my pleasure," growled Styles as he stalked toward the cowering man. "Ain't nobody gonna hurt Mr. 'Ornblower and get away with it." He grabbed Malley and dragged him away, followed by Haversham and Whitney escorting Fuller.

Archie pressed down on Horatio's wound, trying to staunch the flow, not caring that his hands were now covered in his friend's blood. "Come on, Horatio," he said grimly. "You must hold on. Captain Pellew will have my head if I let his protégé die."

"Step aside, step aside!" came the voice of Doctor Hepplewhite as he shoved the crowd of onlookers aside. "Get out of my way." He arrived at Horatio's side and slowly knelt next to him to inspect the wound. "Mr. Kennedy," he said gently. "You must remove your hands so I may check his injury."

Archie sank back on his heels, his heart pounding with fear for his friend. To die like this, in an alley, with no honor - no. That was not the way Horatio Hornblower would leave this world, not the last memory his friends and men would have of him. A drop of sweat dripped into his eye, and he raised a hand to wipe it away. Catching sight of the blood covering his hands, he stopped dead. Horatio's blood. He was covered in it. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the crimson liquid on his hands, couldn't stop thinking of Horatio's life draining away...

"Here ya go, Mr. Kennedy, sir."

Archie looked up, to see Matthews standing above him, a towel in his hand. Slowly, he reached out and took it, wiping the blood from his hands.

Matthews patted his shoulder. "I borrowed it from the Pony, sir."

"All right," Hepplewhite said brusquely. "I've stopped the bleeding temporarily, but we must get him inside so I may stitch it up. You men," he said, gesturing at some of the Indefatigable crew in the crowd. "Carry him - GENTLY - into that pub there, and clear a table where he may lie."

Carefully, four men lifted Horatio and took him inside the Prancing Pony, with Archie, the doctor, and Matthews trailing behind. The pub was nearly deserted now, as most everyone had gone out to see what all the commotion in the alley was about, so Archie swept several abandoned mugs off of a table, and Horatio was laid on his side upon it. The doctor opened his bag and took out several instruments.

Archie hovered at his side. "Is there anything I can do, doctor? Anything at all?"

"No, Mr. Kennedy," Hepplewhite said, his attention focused on Horatio. "It looks to be a clean wound - no major organs or blood vessels were pierced. A few stitches, and he should be good as new."

Relief and disbelief both washed over Archie. "Are you certain, doctor? There's so much blood..."

Hepplewhite peered at him. "Are you a doctor now, Mr. Kennedy?"

Archie, in no mood for any type of banter, said sharply, "What is his condition, doctor?"

Hepplewhite turned back to Horatio and began to stitch the wound. "He'll be fine, sir. I'll recommend no duty for him for a few days, but there should be no permanent damage."

Closing his eyes, Archie breathed a silent prayer. "Thank you, doctor."

"Hmm," the doctor said, his attention fully focused back on Horatio. Skillfully, he stitched the wound closed while the men watched, Archie feeling each stab of the needle as if it were piercing his own skin.

Walters came over to stand beside Archie. "Sir?"

"Yes, Walters?" Archie said distractedly. That was a rather large number of stitches…

"You're injured, sir."

"What - oh, that," he said as Walters gestured at the thin ring of blood around his neck. "It's just a scratch."

"Aye, sir," said Walters firmly, "but a scratch that could get infected. Will you let me clean it, sir?"

"It can wait."

"No, sir, I dun't think so. Might as well take care of it now, 'fore Mr. 'Ornblower wakes up 'n' sees you lookin' like you faced the noose."

Unconsciously, Archie raised a hand to the scratch on his neck, wincing as his fingers brushed across the wound. "Very well, Walters," he sighed. "Clean away."

Walters left for a moment, returning shortly with a rag he'd borrowed from the bartender, and a bowl of water. Archie sat down in a chair across from the doctor. Gently, Walters dipped the rag in the water and blotted away the blood, the water in the bowl soon turning a pale red. Archie said nothing, just watching the doctor as he finished up with Horatio.

Satisfied, the doctor patted Horatio's shoulder and looked over at Archie. "He should be all right to move now, lieutenant. I suggest we return him to Indefatigable just as soon as possible."

"It cannot be soon enough for me," came a tired voice from the table. Archie jumped to his feet and walked to the table.

"Horatio! You're awake!"

"I would assume so, Mr. Kennedy, since I am speaking to you."

"Oh, very good, Mr. Hornblower. Too bad that knife wasn't loaded with a sense of humor, for I fear that is the only way you will ever develop one." He helped Horatio to sit up, swinging his legs over the side of the table.

Horatio winced. "Oh, dear."

"Sorry, Mr. Hornblower," Archie said with a smile. "I am pleased that you are back with us."

Horatio, color slowly returning to his cheeks, looked around. "Where's Malley?"

Archie sobered. "Styles and some of the men took him and Fuller away. I'm assuming they went back to the Indy." He looked closely at his friend. "They'll hang for this, Horatio."

Horatio nodded. "Yes, they will. And the air will smell all the sweeter for it."

"Yes," Archie agreed. "I imagine it will. And since Malley confessed to being the one to assault me aboard the Indy, that is one more mark against him. He also said it wasn't Fuller who hit me from behind at the Mermaid. We'll probably never know who did that."

Horatio eased himself to his feet, Archie taking his arm to aid him. A short wave of dizziness came over him, but he quickly shook it off. He looked over at Hepplewhite, who was cleaning off his instruments.

"Thank you, doctor."

Hepplewhite nodded. "Merely doing my duty, Mr. Hornblower. I'm glad I was nearby. Had you not gotten immediate medical attention, I fear the results may not have been so pleasant." He put his instruments back in his bag, snapping it shut, and faced the two men. "Now, sir. You will report to your cabin in Indefatigable, and remain there until I say otherwise."

"Doctor," protested Horatio. "I am fine. Really."

Glaring at him, the doctor shook his head. "Those are my orders, lieutenant. Should you choose to disobey them, I will have no recourse but to report you to Captain Pellew. I imagine he would not be at all pleased." He turned his gaze to Archie. "And you, Mr. Kennedy. I charge you with the responsibility of his well-being. See that he rests." With a dip of his head, the doctor left the room.

"You heard the man, Horatio," Archie said. "To bed."

"Archie…"

"I'll have none of that, sir," Archie said, taking Horatio's arm and steering him toward the door. "You are going to rest."

Horatio sighed, knowing how stubborn Archie could be. "Aye, aye," he said glumly. "To bed it is."

*****

Horatio, frustrated, lay back upon his bed, hands behind his head, and tried to calm himself. He despised this forced inactivity. He felt fine. Wanting to prove it, he sat up abruptly, and the wound in his back screamed at him, lines of fire running up his spine.

"Dammit," he swore loudly.

"Well, it serves you right," said Archie as he came through the door, closing it behind him. He carried a bowl of what smelled to be soup and a mug of something to drink. Placing them on top of Horatio's sea chest, he turned and regarded his friend.

"I thought Dr. Hepplewhite ordered you to stay abed," he said sternly.

"He only ordered me to my quarters, Archie, not my bed. I cannot just sit still, or I shall lose my mind." He peered suspiciously at the bowl Archie had brought. "What have you there?"

Archie grinned as he sat down, the bowl of soup in his hand. "A fine soup, created specially for you by the cook, with plenty of beef and vegetables to help you heal. It's actually palatable, Horatio." He dipped a spoon into the bowl and held it out to Horatio. "Here. Try it."

Horatio glared at him, making no move to taste the soup, though it smelled delicious and his stomach was rumbling like cannon-fire. "I am quite capable of feeding myself, Mr. Kennedy."

Archie sighed as he dropped the spoon back into the bowl. "And you call me stubborn? For mercy's sake, Horatio, I just want to help you." A gleam came into his eye as he held the bowl out to Horatio. "You're going to drink, you're going to eat, and you're going to get better."

Horatio paused from reaching for the bowl. "Archie? Another memory?"

Archie grinned, his smile as wide as the ocean upon which he belonged. "Yes, Horatio, a memory. One of many. One of all, in fact."

Horatio gaped at him, his hunger forgotten. "All? Do you mean it, Archie?"

Archie laughed. "Indeed I do, sir. I remember everything, from growing up at Kennedy Manor, to Justinian, to Muzillac and El Ferrol - everything, Horatio."

"Archie! That's wonderful!"

"Yes," Archie agreed, gently pushing the bowl of soup at Horatio. "It is. And it will be even more wonderful when you have gotten your strength back, so eat. Eat!"

Horatio, pleased at the turn of events, dug into the soup with gusto. It wasn't until he had finished the whole bowl and drunk the fresh water that Archie had brought him that a thought occurred to him.

"What's happened with Malley and Fuller?"

Archie's eyes clouded slightly. "Captain Pellew has turned Fuller off the ship. He said he was a fool to be so easily led by someone like Malley, though I think that part of it is because he has a wife at home with a child on the way, and Pellew felt sorry for her. Fuller's cutting me with the knife was not intentional, it was decided, but Pellew did not want a man such as him in His Majesty's Navy. Fuller seemed rather relieved."

"I would imagine," Horatio snorted. "And what of Malley?"

"He'll be court-martialed tomorrow morning."

"Good," said Horatio, feeling no sympathy for the man. This had been a long time coming. "I want to be there."

"No, Horatio," Archie said softly. "I knew you would feel that way, so I asked both the doctor and the captain. Both said you must stay here and recover."

"Archie…"

"I'll be there, Horatio. I'll be there for the both of us." Archie's voice was quiet, but colored with a layer of steel and resolve, and Horatio realized with that one simple statement that the old Archie he'd known for so long was gone, replaced by one who was finally at peace with his past. He was an officer through and through, with a strength and internal courage that was going to surprise a lot of people. But not me, Horatio thought with a smile. I've always known it was there, just waiting to be led out of the darkness.

"And that is how it should be, Archie," he agreed, and Archie looked at him in surprise.

"No argument?"

Horatio shook his head as he smiled at his friend. "Not this time, Archie. You were the one who had to deal with Malley for so long, and you were the target of his hatred, more than anyone else. You should be the one to be there."

Archie smiled in return. "I am glad you understand, Horatio." He leaned back against the bulkhead. "I'm very pleased that you have finally acquired a taste for the finer things in life, by-the-bye."

Horatio frowned. "Finer things? You speak of cook's soup?"

Archie laughed. "No, you fool. I mean Shakespeare."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Shakespeare, Horatio. Author, wrote wonderful plays? Historical, romantic, tragic, comic? Even had a character named Horatio in one of them?"

"Blast it, Archie," Horatio said with irritation. "I know who Shakespeare is. Why on earth would you think I have developed an appreciation for him?"

"Because, Horatio, when Malley stabbed you, just as you collapsed in my arms, you quoted Shakespeare to me."

"I did not," Horatio said, appalled.

"You did," Archie replied smugly. "Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't. Do you recall it now?"

"I do not," Horatio said. "You are mistaken, Mr. Kennedy."

"No, I am not," Archie laughed. "It's from Hamlet."

"Oh, good god," Horatio groaned. "I was delirious, Archie, that is the only explanation. And you have read that damn play to me so many times that I suppose it was inevitable that something become stuck in my brain and leak out at some point." He avoided Archie's eyes. "And you must admit, it did fit the situation. Malley was mad, but there was a sort of method to his madness."

Archie nodded. "And Shakespeare was apropos, for Malley doesn't know a hawk from a handsaw anymore. Ah, Horatio, now that you have joined the well-bred and educated, think of all the opportunities you will have to show your knowledge of the Bard, all the many quotes you may use to inspire the men."

Horrified, Horatio stared at his friend. "I have not, and I will not, Archie. It was just the one time, when I was out of my head with pain. It shall not happen again, I promise."

Archie laughed, his blue eyes sparkling at Horatio, who felt a warmth steal over him. This was his old friend Archie, all right, albeit a new and improved version, and Horatio was very grateful to see his return. Even though their new friendship had developed into something strong and wonderful, it was the old friendship he never wanted to lose - the two men who knew each other so instinctively well that often there was no need for words between them.

"You were right, you know, Horatio."

"Of course I was," Horatio answered leaning back against the bulkhead and managing to grimace only a little at the brief pain. "About what?"

"About the ties that bind us together."

"Oh," Horatio said, a little uncomfortably as he recalled that conversation. "Look, Archie, I was trying to reach you in any way I could, and I - "

"You were being honest," Archie said softly. "The word has never been said between us, Horatio, but surely we both know it is there. Let us not diminish it by denying it." He looked steadily at Horatio. "It is the love of friends, of brothers, Horatio, and even if it is never said again, I want you to know that it is there."

"I do know, Archie," Horatio said steadily, amazed that they could be speaking of such an emotion without embarrassment. "I have always known."

A soft smile touched Archie's lips, and he held out his hand to Horatio. "I am honored to call you friend, sir.

Horatio smiled back as he leaned forward, clasping the offered hand in a firm handshake. "And I to do the same, sir. May it ever be so."

"It will, Horatio. It will. My word on it."