Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
B ang.
Bang, bang, bang.
The entire ship shook, swinging Mo and Kent in their hammock, immediately awake.
Mo’s heart slammed against his chest.
Bang.
“What the devil is that?” Kent tightened his grip around Mo’s torso.
“I don’t know, are we—are we being attacked?”
Another bang .
The ship rocked again, with a shrieking sound of wood splintering. Mo held tight onto Kent’s shoulders, hanging on for dear life as they swayed, nearly toppling out of their bed. But he held on, keeping his lover safe.
Suddenly, the door to their room flung open. Kent quickly threw his hands over his privates to cover his nude form.
It was Walker.
“Pirates! Pirates found us!” he yelled. “Fareham, Mo, take cover!”
“Pirates?” the two exclaimed in unison.
Walker didn’t reply—he simply nodded and ran down the corridor away from them.
“Oh no… No, no, no, what do we do?” Kent shook his head, and Mo could feel his ragged breaths against his body. “Pirates? That must’ve been cannon fire. What if someone’s hurt?”
Mo’s eyes widened as he took in everything that was happening around them.
Panicked voices could be heard all around.
They rocked in the hammock as waves crashed against the ship.
His blood ran cold.
A lump rose in his throat.
He glanced out the window, not seeing the other ship, but noticing how sunlight was just barely grazing the horizon.
I wasn’t keeping watch. I was careless.
“If anyone above is hurt, I need to help them! I’m the surgeon—I—I need to do something!”
“Kent, if you go up there, you could get hurt too!”
Kent swung one of his legs off the hammock as Mo grabbed his arm. He stopped, made eye contact, and let out a deep, pained breath. “But there has to be something I can do. There has to. I can help them. Mo, you can’t stay here; you need to get back into the water! You need to flee!”
“But Kent?—”
“If there really are pirates up there, I don’t want them to take you. You can escape! You’ll be safer in the sea! What if they board and find you hiding in here? We—we need to get out of here.”
Everything was happening so fast. Shouts from the crewmen and harsh footsteps pounded from above, shaking the ceiling, making dust motes fly. The lump poked thorns in his throat as he tried to process what Kent was telling him.
None of this would’ve happened if I didn’t sleep here on the ship.
If he slept on Noon’s back like he always did, he could’ve stayed alert. Noon would’ve spotted the other ship for him if he was asleep. She would have woken him, and he could’ve warned the crew of The Sterling Mer to change course before the pirate ship got anywhere near.
He was selfish. He wasn’t thinking. He just wanted to sleep with Kent…
Pressure built behind his eyes, his breath feeling hot. His jaw hurt from how hard he was clenching his teeth.
“Kent, it’s all my fault…”
His human hopped off the hammock and started dressing himself. “Wait, what do you mean?”
“I wasn’t keeping watch. Instead, I stayed here on the ship.”
It appeared Kent was trying to process Mo’s words for a moment, throwing his shirt over his head. At least they haven’t heard any more loud bangs since Walker ran by. Perhaps things were calming down? He couldn’t be sure until they went out and saw for themselves. “Well, if you think it’s your fault, it’s my fault too,” Kent said. “Goddamn it, Mo, it’s my fault too. I wanted you here with me. I could’ve told you no, but—I was the one to lift you into the hammock.”
“Oh no, Kent?—”
“We can’t worry whose fault it is. Perhaps it was just by chance.” He fastened on his breeches. “What we do need to do is get you to safety and help the rest of the crew.”
Mo couldn’t argue with Kent’s words. He knew he was right. “Yes,” he said solemnly.
Kent continued wrapping himself up in clothes as fast as he could—waistcoat, frock, stockings, shoes. “If we are to meet pirates up there, I can’t be in such a state of undress. Fuck— ” He fumbled with a button on his coat, sighing, collecting himself. “There, good enough.” He left off his eyepatch and didn’t bother tying his hair back. “Here, I’ll carry you up. We don’t have time to wait and call for someone stronger.”
“All right. Don’t strain yourself; if it becomes too difficult, I can crawl.”
“All right.”
Kent reached for Mo’s body, under his tail and behind his back, lifting him like a princess off the hammock. Though he could tell Kent was struggling, waking up suddenly with little energy, grunting as he shimmied their way out the door. His delicate hands clutched Mo’s skin and scales firmly as they whisked down the corridor, his own arms clinging around Kent’s shoulders, shouts and foot stomps still bellowing overhead.
He had to dive back into the water. What else could he do? He couldn’t use his Song, no, that would endanger everyone and be the stupidest idea he’d ever thought. No, no, no. He’d be no match against a pirate’s weapons with merely his claws and fangs—with their long, sharp swords, and not to mention those horrifying metal things that shot deadly projectiles. If he was stuck on the ship, no way to run without any legs, he’d be done for. It was no wonder ordinary merfolk were so terrified of humans. If a mer was dragged above the surface, they simply held no chance.
Once they got to the stairs, Kent huffed—and fell to his knees, reluctantly dropping Mo as he tumbled onto the floor. “I can’t…” he panted, “I can’t carry you up…”
“I can climb,” Mo reassured him, petting his lover’s shoulder. “Watch my back.”
“All right.”
Kent stood behind him with shaky legs, still breathing heavy breaths, as Mo reached for the stairs. He pushed himself up each step with his hands and elbows, kicking himself forwards with his tail. It wasn’t as hard as he’d imagined, and soon enough, the dim morning sunrise greeted him as he rose onto the main deck.
Beautiful red blood was splattered everywhere.
At least two bodies he could see were lying past broken wooden floor boards, limbs twisted, a single arm resting in a puddle of blood next to its owner. The gorey sight rumbled something magic inside himself, but he swallowed it down. Now was not the time—the absolute worst time actually. He had to control it. Men were scrambling, holding their crumbling morale together as tightly as they could as Captain Brooks halted them to stand back.
Mo could understand why as soon as he turned his head and saw it for himself.
Another large ship sailed parallel to theirs, close enough to see the pirates’ faces.
“Mo, you need to flee! Now!” Kent yelled as they both made it out fully to the upper deck. His face twisted in despair as he glanced around at the carnage, mouth agape, bringing a hand up to cover it.
“What about you? How will I know you’re safe?”
“If the cannon fire has stopped, hopefully I should be fine. Please, you need to hurry!”
Mo gulped, unable to stop the lump from still clogging his throat. “I’ll stay nearby. I won’t lose sight of you. I love you, Kent.”
Kent nearly stumbled as he knelt down and pecked Mo’s lips. “I love you too, Mo. Now please…” So much anguish made his eyes glassy, with such intense concern. Mo could see how his shoulders were shaking.
Mo nodded, his heart clenching, then he quickly crawled his way to the edge of the ship. His carry-bag was thankfully right where he’d left it, and he snatched it, swinging the strap over his shoulder. He avoided sharp loose wooden planks and he found a blown-out hole in the railing, kicking himself with his tail off the vessel and diving into the sea below.
Kent rose to his feet as he watched Mo leap into the water. At least he knew Mo would be safe—he couldn’t say the same about himself. By the looks of it, two men were already dead from the cannon fire he heard earlier. Thank God the ship was still afloat, and the damage to the hull was subtle enough to where it hadn’t sunk them all completely.
“Is anyone here injured that needs my help?” Kent asked around.
“Yes. Allen,” said Walker, amongst the men standing.
Allen walked with shaky legs to the front of the crowd—Kent couldn’t hold back a gasp. A large chunk of wood cut through Allen’s once white shirt and sank deep into the skin of his bicep, painting the fabric red with blood. The sailing master groaned in pain, holding his injured arm steady with his good one, and Kent’s heart sank.
“Allen! Please, let me see you.”
Kent stepped forward and brought his hands close to Allen’s wound. But he didn’t touch it; he didn’t wish to make matters worse without the proper care yet.
His attention was diverted when he heard more gasps from the surrounding crew.
“Everyone, stand back. Let them board,” Brooks called out, standing only a few feet away. The captain’s golden hair shimmered in the faint morning light; an intimidating yet protective glare was shadowed by his feathered tricorn hat.
“Yes, Captain,” a chorus rang out.
The floor shook as wide wooden planks slammed down onto the edge of The Sterling Mer , connecting the two ships together. Kent had only heard about this in stories—how pirates would capture a ship, board it, and plunder it of all their valuable goods. Was that happening now? His mind was in a whirl as men from the other ship started walking down the plank, one particularly fierce-looking man leading the rest.
“Ahoy! Thank you for your cooperation. We wouldn’t want any more unnecessary bloodshed now, would we?” The leader smirked in a crooked grin, surrounded by his gruff black beard.
“Precisely.” Brooks nodded. “State your name and what you’re here for.”
The pirate leader laughed, coat buttons jingling as his large shoulders rose with each breath. “The name’s Forever Young. Captain Young, as you may refer to me.” Kent held back a snicker as he took in the man’s appearance. The pirate wasn’t ‘young’ at all—in fact, he could pass as the same age as Kent’s father. But perhaps he was younger than he seemed, and a dangerous life at sea weathered his sun-tanned face more than otherwise. He appeared to wear his natural hair and not a periwig under his tricorn hat, black curls hanging over his shoulders.
“You are one of the Crown’s merchant ships, are you not?” continued Young. “You must have goods of value here. Hand them all over to us, and I will see to it that the rest of your crew remains unharmed.”
Brooks grimaced, hovering one of his hands to the sword on his belt. “If I do as you say, you swear to not harm my crew any longer?”
“That is exactly what I said, isn’t it? Aye, now give me your answer.”
“Brooks, what of the medicine?” Davies called out, and Kent’s shoulders slumped in relief that the boatswain appeared uninjured, standing amongst the men and coming up to their captain’s side. “We cannot give that over. The people in Fall River need it?—”
“Yes, they do. But I do not want any more of my men to suffer for it. Look about you.” Brooks glanced at the pirates boarding from the planks, and Kent could see it too—armed with guns and cutlasses were the muscular pirate crew, tall and standing at the ready. If Brooks refused to hand over the goods, no doubt it would unleash a deadly bloody battle. Kent gulped; he wasn’t a fighter. His job was to heal wounds, not cause them. If they all wished to make it to land alive, they had to do this diplomatically. Negotiate. Not combat. Panic rose in his chest as Young kept up that vulgar, demeaning smirk on his face.
“Medicine, eh?” said the pirate captain. “Something like that could be worth quite a lot. If you please, my men are eager, and we don’t wish to wait around all day for you to discuss it with your crew. Surely, you can understand.”
Kent shuddered as he heard the growls of animals—no. Those growls were coming from the pirate crew themselves.
The medicine was worth quite a lot. The medicine was the whole reason The Sterling Mer needed to leave the shores of Portsmouth as soon as she did. It was why Davies came to Kent frantically in the tavern and Kent accepted the position as surgeon, rather than delay her voyage. Yes, Kent wanted to sail regardless due to the prospect of being together with Mo, but he could not ignore the urgency.
If Young was saying honest words—if they gave over the medicine to the pirates, the crew of The Sterling Mer would remain safe. He could tend to Allen without interference. He’d give Mo peace of mind that he himself was safe. But he couldn’t shake the fact that the people in Fall River needed this medicine. People were waiting on this medicine. It had to be delivered to the people who were ailing without it, and the goodness in Kent’s heart knew he had to do something about it. There had to be another way.
“Captain Young,” said Kent.
The pirate turned his attention toward him. “Aye? What is it?” he said roughly.
“You wouldn’t have a need for the medicine itself, would you? You plan to sell it. That’s why you want something valuable—for the money it’s worth, and not the goods in particular.”
“Aye. You speak the obvious that even a lunatic would understand.”
Kent forced back a grimace that threatened to cast on his face, but he remained standing confident, fists at his sides.
“What if I offered you a larger sum than what any of those goods are worth?”
Young raised a gnarly, bushy brow. “Such as?”
He swallowed, forcing his fear down his throat and urging his courage to rise to the brim. Should he even do what he was about to do? Was this even a good idea?
“Ten thousand pounds.”
The pirate captain’s face stretched wide in surprise. “Well now. How exactly would you supply these pounds to us, were we to agree?”
“I am of nobility. I am Viscount Fareham, first son of the Earl of Fareham.” While it hurt him to bring his father into this, he felt he had no other choice. He didn’t have the funds himself in his own coffers to offer, yet the idea formed in his head anyway. It was all he could think of—a way for the medicine to still reach Fall River and the pirates let The Sterling Mer go without any more carnage.
But what about Allen, would he be able to survive on The Sterling Mer without Kent’s help? What about the other thousands of people ailing, waiting for the medicine in Massachusetts? No, he could find a way. He had to. An idea arose, and he spouted the words out before he could think twice.
“Take me aboard your ship back to England as ransom,” said Kent. “My father will pay you the ten thousand pounds in exchange for my safe return, on the condition you let The Sterling Mer complete her delivery?—”
“No, Kent, don’t do it!”
He couldn’t finish his sentence; the voice came from down below—down in the water.
“Mo!”
Kent couldn’t control himself as he flung over to the railing. Young took a step backwards, obviously curious as well letting out a confused groan, and they both gazed into the water.
There in the channel between the two ships was Mo, his shoulders above the water’s surface.
“Now, what do we have here? Man overboard?” said Young, stroking his beard. “Ha! No, I see you for what you are.” He peered his devilish eyes at Kent. “Is this your merman?”
Kent gulped. He was at a loss for words, so all he could do was nod.
“What did he call you? Kent? Is that some sort of nickname?”
“No, it’s, um… my Christian name.”
Young pouted. “I’ve heard stranger. But if he’s calling you by your Christian name then… you must be rather close.”
“Kent, pirates are dangerous!” Mo shouted from the water. “If you board their ship, who knows what will happen?”
“If they agree to this ransom,” —Kent gestured his body toward Mo but kept his eye on Young— “and deliver me back to England unharmed for the pounds, I should be all right.”
“Are you sure you want to do this, Fareham?” asked Brooks, walking closer to him. “Mo is right—you’re putting yourself at risk for all of us on the pirate sloop. I’ve no quarrels about giving them the medicine if it means we are let go safely, especially when Allen here is injured. You’ll need to tend to him. I don’t want to lose him.”
Kent gripped his fists tighter, nails nearly tearing at the skin. “Yes. This could work. I wasn’t done with listing my conditions, however.” He turned toward Young. “If you bring me on board, you’ll need to bring Allen as well, so I can tend to him on the way back to England. I’m the surgeon of this ship, and I need to provide him care.”
“What use would we have bringing an injured man on board with us? He’d be nothing but a freeloader,” rasped Young. His nose scrunched in a grimace.
Allen stepped closer to the pirate captain, holding his injured shoulder. “Well, there’s always the possibility of infection, and this wound killing me. I won’t be a bother to you then, and you can just toss me overboard.”
“Allen, don’t talk that way,” said Walker, strain in his voice.
“But I trust Fareham’s skills in mending me.” Allen nodded toward him. “If I survive the voyage back to England, once I’m healed, I can—I will…” He swallowed thickly, looking at Young directly in the eyes. “I will join your crew.”
“Allen!” called Brooks.
“Will you now?” said Young, peering at the sailing master. “You are quite large. We could use someone with your strength, with muscles of that size. Aye, I like that idea quite a lot! What do you say, brothers?”
The pirates cheered, raising their fists and causing commotion.
Kent was stunned. “You’d really do this?”
“Aye.” Allen then looked at Brooks. “Fareham is right. This medicine needs to be delivered to Fall River. That’s what’s most important. I don’t want my injury to hold you back when I’m the only wounded one here. Our fallen would have died in vain if you’re not to complete our mission. So please, let us do this.”
Brooks held still for a moment, fists at his sides. His mouth was sealed in a fine line. But he furrowed his brows in determination, and nodded affirmatively. “Do as you must.”
“How can we be sure the boy’s tellin’ the truth?” one of the pirate crew said. “What if he ain’t truly nobility and this all is just a ruse to let the merchant ship go free?”
That got some commotion to come from the other pirates, but another one said, “Wait! Earl of Fareham, he said? I remember him. There was a scandal with his son, where his sweet little betrothed jilted him and fled to the continent.”
“Aye, I remember that as well!” shouted another further back, and Kent’s face burned at the fact such gossip about himself had reached even the likes of these people. “Said the lad had nothin’ interestin’ about him other than a pretty face and a lean body. Oh, and he was missin’ an eye.”
Did Diana really say that about me? He supposed the truth likely got twisted the further the gossip spread, but he didn’t doubt her animosity toward him. But that was the least of his worries as Young took a step closer toward him. Merely a foot away, he could feel the pirate’s heavy breath on him as he was scrutinized up and down, silver eyes baring into him like a dagger ripping through cloth.
“Well, you are quite pretty, like they say.” Young’s yellow teeth glinted in a terrifying grin. “ Exceptionally pretty. Look at you. Finer than any harlot I’ve been with lately. And you are blind in one eye from what I can see. Brothers, I think he’s telling the truth.”
“Of course I am.” Kent furrowed his brows. He attempted to step backwards, but his back hit the railing. “I wouldn’t wish to board your ship unless I had a proper reason to.” Especially not with a captain who talks to me like that.
Young laughed at that, throwing his head back. “But what if your father doesn’t pay? How can I trust that you are worth ten thousand pounds to him, especially after a scandal such as that?”
“He will pay! He will! I’m sure of it!” He resisted the urge to stamp his foot in protest. “My father still puts incredible value in me. He—he didn’t want me leaving England in the first place. I left on my own will. You’ll be doing him a favor bringing me back to him and he’ll thank you generously with the ransom money.”
“But still. There’s always a chance something unexpected happens. What. If. He. Doesn’t. Pay?”
That stern tone shot an arrow of terror straight through his soul. His knees wobbled and hot sweat dripped from his trembling chin. He knew his father would pay, so there would be no worry. But he had to say something, anything to satisfy what the pirate would want. Even if he knew it wouldn’t come to fruition. It better not come to this. Please, Father.
“You can… have your way with me.”
“No, you mustn’t!” yelled Mo.
The pirate crew hollered and whistled, some even licked their lips. Kent cringed and grit his teeth at the awful noise, hearing lewd and perverted comments coming from a few of them. I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. It won’t come to that.
“You hear that, brothers?” Young called back to his crew. “Either the pounds, or a gorgeous young whore we can share amongst ourselves. Well, if that’s the case, let us take a vote. We are… democratic, as you know. So here! All in favor of plundering the ship of her goods and leaving her dry say ‘aye’.”
A few voices rang, but not many.
“Now, all in favor of holding the nobleman’s son for ransom, worth more coin than any of these goods combined, along with gaining a strong, valuable new crewman, say ‘aye’.”
The entirety of the pirate crew hollered and few even stamped their feet. Whistles flew through the air and Kent felt his whole body shake at the noise. Oh, what am I getting myself into?
Young clapped, calming the men down. “Then it’s settled!”
“I’m coming along too!”
Kent’s and everyone else’s gaze turned to the water again. It was Mo.
“You’re still here?” Young growled, then narrowed his gaze at Kent. “He wants you, doesn’t he? He used your Christian name. You’re a mer-fucker, aren’t you, lad?”
Kent’s face burned ; now was not the time to feel embarrassment over that. He had to stay calm. “W-well, as you said, we are close…”
Young looked down over the railing again at Mo. The pirate crew gazed as well, and one came up to their captain, clasping a hand onto Young’s shoulder. “Cap’n, how do we know he ain’t a siren? He could be followin’ the ship for his own ulterior motives and we’d be none the wiser.”
“He’s not a siren!” Kent said hastily. “I’ve heard him sing. He doesn’t have that sort of magic.”
Allen gave him a curious stare, and Kent had to wonder why. He doesn’t still question that fact, does he? But his thoughts were cut short when Young said, “I don’t believe he’s a siren either. Sirens view humanity as their enemy, from what I know. And I know that look.” He flicked his gaze between Kent and Mo. “That look of possession. Claiming you as his. There’s no hiding the truth of his feelings in that stare. A siren wouldn’t befriend a human or get close to them like that.”
Kent made eye contact with Mo then, seeing the worry and care in his ocean-blue eyes. And—he felt something in his heart tug and pull. Clutching onto his chest and caressing it with tenderness, vulnerability, intimacy. It was strange, not like anything he’d felt before, something he could only describe as otherworldly. Was this magic? The connection they formed because of their love?
“I wish to join you, to ensure that you are honest in what you say,” Mo said to the pirate. “You must bring him back to England safely.”
Young huffed, then shrugged, standing back up straight. “I suppose there isn’t anything I can do to stop you from swimming along. Do as you please. But you are not allowed on board our ship.” Kent could see Mo’s brows crease lower in frustration. “Come on, then. The men have voted. You two are coming with us.”
Young grabbed onto Kent’s wrist with a force he didn’t expect and dragged him toward the planks that connected the ships. Other pirates held onto Allen and supported him, ushering in the beginning of yet another new journey. Kent looked back at The Sterling Mer . Hopefully he would see these men again once in England, those who were nothing but kind to him and, as silly as it might be to say, were becoming like a second family. Brooks, Davies, Walker, and the rest of them wished him their safe regards, thanking him, and Kent did the same. They didn’t have much longer to go before they reached Massachusetts, and once there they could find a new surgeon. They would be fine. Himself, however…
He would be all right. He looked down into the water, wishing with all his might that his feet wouldn’t slip and plunge him into the depths as Young pulled him along. “Mo,” he called out to his merman. “Thank you. Thank you for being there for me.”
“I’ll do anything for you,” said Mo, never taking his eyes away from him. “I promised I will keep you safe, and I will hold true to that promise.”
“That’s enough sentimentality for now.” Young tugged Kent’s wrist again.
Kent got one good last look at Mo’s face before he stepped onto the pirate ship, determined to memorize his emotion because he didn’t know how soon they would see each other again. They would, he knew. If the strange pulsing in his heart was anything to go by, he knew Mo was true, and their love was real. It would bring them together.
He would be safe. The plan would work. Allen was here with him, too.
Please, let my father understand.