by Noah Harris
As if in a dream, Thomas moved over to the side of the ship and grasped the rope ladder leading to the longboat below. Osier stood nearby, as meek as a lamb but still giving off that exquisite musk. Thomas tried to focus his mind, quickly grasping the rope ladder and climbing down it to get away from the scent.
It took some managing to get Osier down the rope ladder. Paddy stood above, a pistol in each hand, obviously worried about the time and the noise. Thomas’s heart pounded. He had no doubt that if someone came on deck now and raised the alarm, Paddy would shoot him dead.
He also had no doubt that included him, even if he was Osier’s favorite.
Favorite?
That sent a thrill of excitement through him, tempered with a spike of fear. That fear grew when the boat lurched as the ponderous bulk of the werebear came aboard.
Thomas was trapped. If he raised the alarm, Paddy would shoot him no matter what Osier felt towards him. Osier was out of his head, and his men could make up any story they liked. Only fear of having to lie to his leader probably kept Paddy from killing him right now.
And then he discovered Paddy had an ace up his sleeve.
Radbert climbed down the rope ladder. From his stiff movements and tense shoulders Thomas could tell he did not come willingly. The German youth slumped in the rear seat of the longboat and would not look at him.
Paddy came down last, shot Thomas a grin, and sat next to Radbert.
Thomas yearned to call out to his friend, tell him that he had warned the captain and didn’t want to betray the crew of the Manhunter, but he kept silent. To speak now would mean the death of them both.
So, Thomas sat, silent and miserable, as one of Osier’s men used a boathook to push off from the Manhunter and two others unfurled the sails. They caught the stiff breeze, and the boat danced across the waves, the Manhunter dwindling in the darkness behind.
Thomas squinted. It was difficult to tell in the dark, but the sails of the pirate ship looked strange, deflated, as if there weren’t catching the breeze at all.
The man next to him noticed his gaze and told him, “We cut the sails. The spares too. It will take a full day to mend them, and by that time we will be well away.”
“Did you kill anyone?” Thomas asked.
The man shook his head. “We had to knock out Frenchie, and Gonzalo, too. He had the only key to the armory, so we had no choice. Don’t worry, the Spaniard will live, although he’ll wake up feeling like he’d drunk five bottles of wine.”
The man chuckled at that. Thomas felt like slugging him for joking about injuring a shipmate. And to think Thomas felt like he didn’t belong on the Manhunter! He cared about the ship more than these vermin.
But he had to wonder—how many more of the crew would have leapt at this chance if Osier had trusted them enough to invite them along? Thomas had come to feel close to the Manhunter, but perhaps that was more because it was the only place he could show a part of himself that he had always hidden. No other part of his personality really fit in on the ship.
Thomas weighed his options and couldn’t come up with any. There were a dozen men aboard besides himself, Radbert, and Osier. He could not hope to overpower them all. He’d have to wait until they got to the island and see what he could do then.
Thus, began the longest night of Thomas’s life. Packed into a longboat with a bunch of cutthroats, most of whom didn’t trust him further than they could spit, all the while trying to control his urges as the musk filled his nostrils and the object of his desire sat as a senseless hulk at the stern, he had to pretend he wanted to be there. In the meantime, the man he truly cared about, the man he most wanted to speak with, would not so much as look at him.
The worst of it all was that he had to play the part. He joked with the others about the map and how they’d divvy up the treasure without losing most of it as shares to the rest of the crew of the Manhunter. He knew many didn’t fully believe his blustering, and Paddy not at all, but to not play along would be to risk death. Radbert looked disgusted every time Thomas opened his mouth.
The musk affected everyone else, as well. While one man always had to be at the tiller and a couple more tending to the sails, they did this work in shifts so the others could seek relief in willing orifices.
At last the sun rose, and Osier turned back to normal. Thomas was dozing when he heard the brute grumble, “Get these damned chains off of me!”
Two of the pirates removed the manacles. Paddy handed over a bundle of Osier’s clothes. The werebear kicked the chains where they lay on the bottom of the boat, glowered at them, and dressed. After he finished, he rubbed his eyes as if he had just awoken from a deep sleep, looked around, and nodded with evident satisfaction.
Then he noticed Radbert in the boat.
“What in blazes is he doing here?”
“Brought him along to make sure your piece of ass behaves himself,” Paddy said. Thomas noticed that while Paddy normally deferred to the werebear, he put a bit of steel in his voice this time.
“I told you Thomas was solid. He’s just a bit too susceptible to the musk,” Osier said.
“And you’re too susceptible to him,” Paddy replied dryly. “I told you I didn’t want someone who had mated with the captain on board. You insisted, and me and the lads decided to have a bit of insurance.”
“Do what you like,” Osier replied with a shrug, “but the German doesn’t get a share.”
“Of course not,” Paddy replied.
“And he doesn’t get hurt, either,” Thomas said.
Osier fixed him with a sultry gaze. “I know you don’t want to be the bottom all the time, lad. Just remember whose side you’re on.”
Thomas met his gaze. It was a hard thing to do. “I know what side I’m on.”
The werebear chuckled. “Have no fear. We’ll drop him off at a seaside village somewhere once our work is done.”
“Unless you make a wrong move,” Paddy added, “in which case, both of you will be dumped in the sea with your throats slit.”
Osier didn’t appear annoyed by this threat. Thomas got the impression that Osier didn’t feel Thomas would betray him, but that if he did, Paddy could do what he liked.
They were still in the open ocean, but a current pushed them to the east. This seemed strange, since the prevailing currents in these waters were to the north. Also, the water looked oddly murky.
When Thomas asked about this, one of the pirates turned to him. He was an Italian named Alessandro and one of the rougher members of the crew.
“I’ve been to these waters before,” the man said. “Do you know why the water is this color?”
Thomas shook his head. To his astonishment, Alessandro put a hand over the side, brought some of the water to his mouth, and drank it.
“It’s river water,” the Italian explained. “We are opposite the mouth of the River Amazon.”
Thomas looked to the west. The shore wasn’t visible.
“How could it reach this far out to sea?” he asked.
“The Amazon is vast. In some parts, you can’t see from one shore to the other. Some say it’s the biggest river in the world.”
Thomas sampled the water. While a bit brackish, it was perfectly drinkable.
Osier pulled the leather tube containing the map from a seam in his coat. Popping it open, he removed the map. Everyone peered at it with interest. Alessandro sidled over to where Osier sat and studied it.
“Not too far,” the Italian said. “If this wind keeps up we’ll make it by this evening.”
“Good,” Osier replied. “After we get the loot, we’ll work our way along the coast until we get to a decent enough port to find a ship. Then we go our separate ways.” Osier turned to Paddy. “Is everything in order? You load up on everything we needed?”
The Irishman motioned to a couple of barrels and a few crates in the bottom of the boat. “More than enough. A week of food and water if we ration it a little. I also brought along some fishing lines in cas
e we’re becalmed.”
“And the rum?” Osier asked.
“No rum,” Paddy replied.
The pirates all groaned. Osier let out a belly laugh.
“Good man. Sorry lads, but I told him not to bring any along. I suppose one or two of you have a flask on you, but don’t go overboard with it. We need to keep clear heads. Once we’re safe in a port with the treasure, we can drink to our hearts’ content.”
Despite his fears and the revulsion he felt for Osier stabbing the rest of the Manhunter crew in the back, he had to credit the werebear for foresight. He suspected more than once a pirate crew had fallen out over drunkenness, especially when there was a Spanish gold shipment at stake.
All day the weather held. While the strange push of the unseen river to their west tried to move them away from the coast, they were aided by the wind, which blew briskly from the northeast. Alessandro said this was unusual and that the wind normally blew from the south or southeast. Clouds scudded overhead but did not threaten rain.
“God is with us, my friends,” he declared.
Thomas couldn’t help but shake his head. God would never be with people such as these. Despite what the priests said back home, he could not bring himself to believe the creator of the world, the source of all good and the vanquisher of evil, would hate men for wanting other men. There was no evil in that. But piracy? That would send all these men to eternal hellfire.
But what of him? Was he not a pirate now, too?
He didn’t really know what he was anymore. It seemed like with every day, with every new situation, he had to change himself. He longed to live once more the simple life of a regular sailor. Even with all its frustrations and petty cruelties, life aboard a normal merchantman was far less exhausting than the life of a pirate.
The weather turned sultry, and with little to do the men spent their time idly discussing what they’d do with the treasure. Osier planned on buying his own ship and being a great pirate captain. Alessandro spoke of moving back to Sicily and opening a tavern. Others wanted farms, or to build cottages by the sea and do nothing in particular.
“What do you want to do, Thomas?” Osier asked him.
Thomas mulled it over. He hadn’t considered the possibility that he might live through this to even get a share. “I suppose I’d move to some city somewhere and buy a shop and a house. Settle down with some man.”
Some of the pirates sneered at this, while others seemed to consider the idea. Osier grinned.
“Sure you wouldn’t want to be my first mate?”
Thomas blinked, then forced himself to grin back. So, the werebear really did have something for him. “Perhaps. Let’s get the treasure first.”
Paddy nudged Radbert, who had remained silent most of the day. “Looks like he prefers Osier to you.”
“Looks like he’s a damned backstabbing liar!” Radbert snapped, giving Thomas a look that cut him deep.
“Pretty boys like you are easy to find,” Osier scoffed at the German. “A Spanish gold shipment is something few pirates ever come across in their lifetime. Thomas is smart enough to go for the gold. Once he had his share, he can buy a dozen mincing little Marys like you.”
Thomas forced himself to laugh with the others.
Radbert turned away. Thomas thought he saw tears flowing down his cheeks.
As the sun slanted to the west, they passed out of the strange current of the river, which flowed from a source still unseen below the horizon. The man at the tiller pointed the longboat a bit more to the west, for according to the map, the island lay close to shore. Within an hour, with a good wind behind them, the black line of the shore came into view. Within another hour, it resolved itself into a green line of jungle and a broad beach of glittering white sand. They saw no trace of civilization.
Paddy appeared anxious. “Is it far now?”
“The map is a bit vague,” Osier said, “We should see it soon.”
Paddy and the others peered to the south, but the light began to fade. Osier started trembling. Sweat beaded his brow, and he started flexing his muscles.
“I feel the change coming on. Get those manacles on me. Blast, I hate those things! Silver for us is like garlic for vampires.”
“They’re necessary if you want us to be alive in the morning,” one of the pirates said. “Otherwise you’re liable to rape us all to death.”
Osier nodded, hurriedly stripping himself of his clothes. There was no telling what a werebear on the loose would do to them in the narrow confines of the boat, where the men could neither run nor hide.
Osier began to change just as the manacles were snapped around his wrists. He bulked up, and the musk wafted through the tropical air. Thomas turned away, not wanting to see him.
Once the werebear was secured and lay slumped in his seat, knocked out by the effect of the silver, Paddy lit a lantern—for the short tropical dusk had already passed—and rummaged through Osier’s coat. He found the seam and pulled out the map.
“What are you doing?” Thomas asked.
The Irishman gave him a wicked grin. “Increasing our shares.”
The other pirates guffawed. The two flanking Osier picked him up and heaved him overboard. The werebear didn’t struggle as the waters consumed him.
Thomas gaped. Osier had disappeared without a ripple.
“Murderers!” Radbert cried.
Paddy drew a knife. “I’m just getting started.”
He lunged for Thomas.
Thomas ducked to the side and punched the Irishman in the side of the head. Paddy fell over, and Thomas was about to kick him when he had to dodge again as another pirate swiped at him with a knife. Several more drew weapons, too.
It was twelve against one. He would be dead in another moment.
Then out of the corner of his eye he saw the only way out.
The full moon was rising over the Atlantic, shining it bright rays on an island not far to the south of them. Thomas did not see the shape of the island or even how close it lay. He only knew that it existed.
That was good enough.
“Radbert, dive!” he called out.
He had no time to see if his lover did as he was told, for just then, he had to plunge into the water to avoid getting Paddy’s blade in his heart.
Thomas took long, quick strokes towards the island, the calls of the pirates aboard the longboat pursuing him through the moonlit night. He heard a pistol shot, followed quickly by another. He did not see if the bullets landed close. He swam, swam faster than he had ever swum before. A glimpse of the island showed it to be farther away than he had first thought, too damn far. He’d always been a strong swimmer, but would never make it that far.
Another shot. This one almost got him, landing so close in the water that he felt it pass by, creating a strong slash of a ripple beside him. Thomas shuddered. He dove. It was his only hope. With powerful strokes, he swam into the depths of the night-dark ocean, working his way to the right as he did so. If fortune favored him, when he finally came up for air, they might not immediately spot him, and then he could take a great gulp of air and submerge again to swim underwater and put more distance between himself and the pirates. If he could convince Paddy and the others that he’d been hit, they might move on.
And Radbert? His heart clenched to think of him in danger back there, but he could barely help himself. He was no good to his friend now.
He could see nothing. His lungs began to burn. Thomas had no choice but to go back up for air.
Swimming blind, kicking with his strong legs to return to the surface though his clothes tried to pull him down, he did not know he was almost there until it was too late. He had meant to come up slowly, quietly, but he overestimated how deep he had gone and came splashing up. Blinking the water from his eyes, he saw a flicker of a lantern not far off.
Damn!
There was nothing for it. He took a deep inhalation of air and dove back down.
Just then he felt a terrible impact on
his head. A bright flash blinded him, and the air rushed out of his lungs. A wave hit him and pushed him under. His clothes weighed him down, and he felt himself sinking.
Despair engulfed him. So, this was how he would die, without ever finding satisfaction in life, without ever having found a true place he could belong. He struggled, but his limbs wouldn’t obey his thoughts. He felt weak, and tired. So, so tired. Despair was replaced with resignation. If this was the end of his life, so be it. It had never been a truly happy one, and he had never held out much hope of it ever becoming happier.
A dim blue, shimmering light appeared from a long way off. It seemed far, far below him, in the greatest depths of the ocean, and yet it grew in strength as if it approached. He had heard tales of people who had been close to death and had seen this light. Some said it was the gate to heaven. Perhaps now he’d finally learn why God had made him the way he was and yet said in His holy book that his kind was damned.
Sadness plucked at him. If only he had time to develop something real with Radbert.
The light grew closer, encompassing his full vision even as it faded. Thomas’s thoughts became muddled, and he knew he was dying. Briefly, a vision of Radbert’s face hovered before him. Just as the last of his vision guttered out, the face drew close to his own, and he felt a tender kiss planted on his lips.
He drew a breath. No, that could not be. He had sunk to the depths of the ocean where no man could breathe.
Yet he did. His vision cleared, and a face did, indeed, hover before him.
But it was not Radbert’s.
It was similar, though. It was fair and youthful, yet different. The skin had a bluish tinge that seemed to glow with eerie phosphorescence, and the eyes were a liquid black. The body was nude, exquisitely male, and swam close to his own.
Thomas drew another breath, and his mind cleared even more. Was this an angel? A devil? He did not know. A webbed hand reached forth and touched the wound on his head. Thomas felt a dull pain from where the bullet had struck him, then a cool tingle that passed all the way down his spine.
Awareness grew, as did the realization that he felt no different than he had before he had been struck by the bullet.
