Whispers in the Wind

It became a habit for Young to bring James his meals, clean the cabin, and then spend the rest of the day helping the cook who accepted the clumsy willingness with a gruff pretense of resentment. Lifting the heavy pots, shifting heavy barrels created muscles where none had been before. The old man took a strange liking to him and prodded him to eat as they cooked.
"What good is working in a galley if you can't nibble? Huh?" Young nodded and wished he were back home. Home, however, seemed a far-away place he'd never see again.
The only other person Young encountered was Jim. He'd go down to the galley, sit drinking coffee, talking to Young, ignoring the look of animosity the cook would continually throw at him. "You know what I like about you, Young?" Young shook his head. "You never argue with anything I say." The auburn haired sailor laughed in joy and to his delight, the other man laughed too. James, walking past the galley, stepped in front of the door, scowling.
"If you don't have enough work, Mr. Taylor, I can have Murdock find you more."
"Just stopping in for a cup of coffee, Captain." His eyes were puzzled as he viewed the suspicion, the animosity on the other man's face.
"Finish it up and get back up on deck. And you..." His blue eyes pierced a pale Young..."If Hudson can't keep you busy..."
"You'll not be taking him from me too! Chase that stupid, lazy Jim away but don't you dare take my Young!"
"He's not your Young. Taylor?"
That fierce anger was nothing to challenged, Jim Taylor decided, and left abruptly with a quick, "Just going." He squeezed past the stiff, hard man.
James stalked from the doorway, but stopped at the hatch. He battled to shove the emotions back down into the pit he had created eight months ago.
"Will?" Murdock asked as he appeared before the captain.
"What is it?" James demanded, winning over the turmoil within him.
"You looked sour for a moment. You constipated?"
"My bowels are just fine. Why have you left the wheel?"
"I'm going for coffee."
"Why is the whole damn ship going to the galley for coffee?!" he questioned in a hard voice.
"I don't know about the whole...damn...ship, Captain James, but I'm going because I want one, I need one, and Young makes the best coffee this vessel has ever seen. Should I put myself on report, sir?"
"You can sew up your mouth and get on with your work. And stop bothering Young at his!" James commanded. He shoved his friend aside, leaving him in he hatch's opening. He vanished into the sunlight.
A thought occurred to Murdock, a thought he denied. It lingered, grew, and the second-in-command listened. Jealous... William James was jealous. "No, " he decide at last, and went on to the galley. "I hope the coffee's still hot."
Young, still unnerved over James's appearance, spilled the coffee as he poured the hot brew into a tin mug.
"His bark is worse than his bite, " Murdock said in sympathy. Young's green eyes questioned him. "James...his bark is worse than his bite. Don't take his bad temper to heart, Young. He's gets over his fizzes as fast as he gets into them."
"That's true enough, " Hudson agreed. He glared at the homely man. "Take your coffee up on deck. We have work to do down here and you're in the way."
"Just going. St. Elmo, anyway, between you and the captain..." He shook his head, picked up his cup and left.
"He is right, Young; don't let the captain upset you." Hudson threw his cleaver at a dark, scurrying object. "Bloody rats! Get a cat, I tell the captain, but would he? No. Can't stand the smell, he said. So get poison. But would he? No. He's afraid it'll get into the food. I run a clean ship here! As if I'd let that stuff get into anything I cook! I got the poison anyway. See this red can?" He lifted a small curtain and pointed to a large, metal container. Young nodded. "That's the rat poison. Don't ever open this can!" The younger man shook his head. "Get into my food! Who does he think he is?! I've got it spread around. I've mixed it with old cheese. Don't pick it up!" Again, Young agreed silently. For the rest of the day, the cook grumbled, complained.

Three weeks into the voyage, the old man suddenly asked, "Hasn't tired of you yet, huh?" Young showed his bewilderment. "The captain...hasn't kicked you out yet, I see." Young shrugged. 
"I never thought the captain would ever replace Jamie, " the old man continued in thoughtful confusion. He caught the questioning look on Young's face once more. "Jamie... Hasn't the captain told you about him?" Young shook his head. "He was his mate." He waited but it was clear the younger man didn't understand. "They slept in the same bunk...they were lovers, like you two." He watched the red creep upward and cover the pale cheeks. "Evil goings on it was. I told the captain he was sin infested but would he listen to me? God took his heathen attachment from him. I knew he would! And now he's got you!" He watched the horror overcome the other man, watched him shake his head in vehement denial. "You're not? I'll not believe it. You sleep in his cabin." 
Young bent down, patted the floor. Sickness churned in his stomach. The calmness he had begun to feel was evaporating rapidly as his brother's words came back to taunt him.
"You sleep on the floor? You and the captain..."
"Him and the captain, what?" James demanded in mild rage from the doorway. He entered the room in controlled movements. "I've told you more than once, my private life is private, and I won't have you discussing it with anyone."
"You've got an illness!" Hudson exploded, waving his long, sharp knife at the captain.
"I'll not be discussing what goes on in my cabin with anyone. Young..." He viewed the pale face, the expression of growing horror and fear with sadness. "You mustn't listen to him. He's a lonely, old man..."
"I'm not old! I can still take you!"
"...who has no life of his own and must get his joy and entertainment by living in other people's."
"Here, you!" the cook snarled.
But James's glance went back to the tall, slim man with the long, chestnut curls. "You know I haven't touched you and I won't. I'm not a beast or an animal, though he'll have you believing that if he can. You can trust him or me, as you choose, but I'll not be releasing you from anything I've assigned you to do. Bring coffee up on deck to Murdock and me, now. Bring dinner up there as well. There's a storm coming up and we have to keep an eye out for it. If it hits, lock yourself into the cabin." He waited and the nod finally came. He was hurt by the sick look in the green eyes. The friendship that had begun to develop between them, the trust, must have been very fragile for such silly, stupid words to damage them. His gaze turned to Hudson, and the expression in it made the old man blanch. James turned and left.
Up on deck, Murdock asked in curiosity, "Where have you been?"
"I went down for coffee for us."
"So where is it? Did you spill it?" His grey eyes danced in merriment.
"Young's bringing it." He went to the railing, searched the horizon.
"Wait a minute. You went down to tell Young to bring coffee up?"
"Yes."
"You?" His gaze met James's but his did not flinch. Suddenly, he nodded knowingly. It had been jealousy he had witnessed a week ago. "You went down to check on him, to make sure he was all right. You went down just to see his face."
"I did not!"
"You did." Admiration and awe took over his homely features. "God, man, I never thought I'd live to see it."
"See what?" James demanded, his eyes narrowing.
"You're finally getting over Jamie's death."
James tried to work up indignation. He tried to get anger to rise but there was nothing, only the truth. He chose not to answer. He gripped the railing and tried to recall Jamie's smiling face...and saw Young's hesitant smile. He tried to conjure up that husky voice and heard the silence of Young's replies. Desolation struck him. He had loved Jamie...how could he forget him so easily? Jamie's laughing face did come back then, and so did the hurting.
James thought,
"This Young..." James looked around. Murdock hesitated when he saw the agony in his captain's eyes. "This Young, is he...will he...I mean, you don't...force yourself on him? Do you?"
Rage mottled James's features. "I didn't bring him on board my ship to ravish him or turn him into another Jamie."
"I'm sorry, William. That was a stupid question on my part."
James nodded, bit his lower lip. "His father begged me to take him, to keep him safe. There have been several attempts on Young's life, and the father thinks the younger son is behind them." They heard the sound of glass shattering and whirled around to see the anguish on Young's face. "Ray..." James took a step toward the other man but Young turned and fled back into the ship's stomach.
"He didn't know?" Murdock guessed.
"He didn't know." James hurried after the other man.
Young went instinctively toward James's cabin. His brother? His own brother had... He shoved the hurting down, hid it as he had hid all the other pain that had been given him. The apathetic cloak was drawn up, around. The deadness of his emotions returned. Sounds from the cabin two doors down brought dull interest to the surface and he went there instead of his original destination. Two men, naked, were having intercourse in there. One man was bent double, his head touching the floor, his backside up in the air, while the other man's harden penis was...
Sickened, terror waking anew, Young backed out, hurried to the captain's cabin just as James reached it.
"Young, I..."
Young shrank away from his touch. He fumbled for the door knob.
"What's wrong? Has someone..."
The keening cry of release told James all he needed to know.
Young finally opened the door. He ran inside, stumbled to his pallet, sank down. James followed, shutting the door with a soft click. "You saw them?" Young huddled against the wall, shivering visibly. His brother's words screamed in his mind, and memories of what those men had done to him when he was six, overcame the calmness that he had gained. He clutched his knees to his chest and began to rock.
"Surely you know there are men who..." He stopped, licked his lips, realizing that of course he knew what went on between certain men. Hadn't it happened to him as a child? he called himself. James thought in dismay, He sighed.
"I've given orders that you're not to be touched like that. My men will obey me. Young? Young?" 
He bent down, touched the trembling shoulder, and Young struck out instinctively. There was too much pain, too much horror, simply too much. Though he had never really fought back before, the fighting beaten out of him by those two men, he fought back then. James was twice as strong but that gentle protectiveness overcame him and he simply held on to the other man, cradled him against his chest, until the fight died. He soothed a path up and down the quivering spine, and then that touch changed...it altered, became more than a comforting gesture.
Young felt it, felt it also in his own body as well. Bewild-ered, shaken, he looked up into startled, blue eyes.
James shot upwards, moved backward. The dismay, the disturbed acknowledgement of what had just happened between them, shook him to the very core of his being. He ran from the room, leaving a very troubled Young to face the dilemma still swirling around inside him, alone...
His body had responded sexually to James.
His penis throbbed with awakening. His hand went down, cupped the organ and a myriad collection of sensations flooded his body.
Unnerved, Young shot upwards, hurried from the cabin. He ran to the galley where the warmth and the presence of a grouchy Hudson seemed like havens to him.
"You look like you've seen a ghost, " Hudson remarked, glancing up at the pale man. "Here, now! Don't you go fainting in here! I don't do any doctoring!" He helped Young sit down. "You really are upset. What happened?" Hudson berated himself. "As if you can answer me. Sometimes, I think I am getting old. Never mind. I'll get you a cup of coffee and I'll put a shot of brandy in it." He ignored Young's shake of denial and fixed he coffee and alcohol mixture anyway. "Drink! I said drink!" He held the cup to the white lips and intimidated the younger man until he drank the hot brew. "Just sit there until your blood starts flowing again." Hudson went back to the stove. "We're low on water. I hope we reach the island soon."
The word island slowly sank into the dumb shock that had charge of Young. An island? Maybe he could get off the ship, hide. Anywhere but being here sounded wonderful to him. He took a crumbled sheet of paper, a stub of a pencil and wrote, "When do we get to the island?"
"I don't know. About two days. Why?" His suspicious blue eyes searched the still white face. Young shrugged. "Oh, no you don't. That might work with the captain, but I know you better. Why did you want to know?"
The beginning of the storm hit. The ship rocked with undulations that threatened their sea legs.
"It'll be hardtack and biscuits tonight, rather they like it or not, " Hudson decided grimly. "I'll not be lighting a fire in the stove tonight." He went to the larder, took out a small basket, and inside it, placed a clean cloth. Biscuits went in next, then dark, salty hardtack. He hesitated, then settled four tarts in. "I used all of the of the fruit too in these things. We'd better reach that island soon!" The very last thing he placed within was a bottle of water. "See that you don't drop this and break the jug, " he admonished Young as he handed him the basket. "You come back here. First storms can be frightening." His blue eyes told the other man he was truly sympathetic. "And stay away from the railings! The last thing we need is you falling over-board."
Young nodded and left. He hurried up on deck where the wind blew in cold gusts. The sea was choppy...the boat rocked back and forth. Illness threatened Young, but he continued on to the top deck where he delivered the food to a very grateful James and Murdock. James tried searching Young's face but the young man refused to meet his eyes.
"I'll keep the wheel, Captain, while you eat."
"No." James took charge of the huge, ornate, polished bit of wood, and Murdock dug into the basket. "See you leave something for me."
"Yes. Hey! Tarts! Hudson must be softening up."
"Just as long as they're not poisoned, " James remarked dryly.
Young left them then, to the sound of Murdock's laughter slowly being swallowed up by the storm. The...accident...occurred just as he was climbing back down the ladder. A shadow appeared, arm raised. A long, slim object came flying down. It slammed into Young's skull.