Whispers in the Wind

"Young, Hudson, this is Captain Whitechapel. Simon, this is my cook and the young man I was telling you about." He watched them view each other. Young's eyes showed reserve. There was curiosity in the gray ones of the overweight, red-cheeked owner and captain of the SEA SONG. Hudson's blue eyes were still withdrawn, distant. He had never forgiven his captain for the flogging he had undergone.
"You'll both like my ship, " the jolly captain of the SEA SONG exclaimed and then took a deep swallow from his mug of ale.
Young's eyes grew wide, alarmed. He searched the face of his lover, saw only a cool aloofness before James looked away. Sad acceptance came quickly, acceptance tinted with a sense of rejection. There was even a hint of depression in their depths. That was why James had remained away from him for the last week, not touching, not loving, barely speaking. That was why the captain of the WHITE RAVEN had rejected him physically, mentally, emotionally. He had grown tired of him. He had gotten what he wanted, a body to keep the nights warm for him, but he had grown tired of his inexperience and wanted someone who really knew what they were doing. It was time for William James to move on to someone new. 
Desolation swam around Young's soul. His eyes sought James's again as he tried to beg the other man to deny the rejection. He wanted to plead with him to change his mind and allow him to stay but James continued to avoid looking at him for that very reason. The captain of the WHITE RAVEN was afraid he would change his mind and keep Young with him.
And risk Ray Young's existence again.
No, James knew, he mustn't give into his own pain, his acknowledgement that loneliness would hit him and hit him hard. He mustn't become so selfish he'd risk Young's life.
The transfer was a blur in Young's mind. The handing over of envelopes to him and Hudson seemed unimportant. He looked at his and then allowed it to drop overboard. No one saw it fall except he himself. He felt his soul tearing apart as it sank beneath the cold, dark water. Agony sliced into his soul. It was hard to breathe.
his heart cried out silently.
On board his ship, the wind tickled James's cheek and it was almost as though he could hear Young weeping, begging softly, Come back for me! Don't make me go!
And James wept...alone in his cabin, he wept.

Hudson opened his letter. The resentment he had experienced slowly changed to understanding.
"Aye, " he murmured to himself. "I'll take good care of him." He caught Young's eyes on him and said, "We have much to discuss once we're in our room." Young shrugged, tired in mind and soul. He wanted to go home, lie in his own bed again. Even if it meant facing his brother and the animosity, the cruel taunting from the very one who should love him, Young wanted to go home.
"Don't be feeling like that, Ray. It's not what you think." But he only shook his head when Young's eyes questioned him. Now was not the time to discuss private things.
In their tiny cabin later, Hudson explained things to the other, younger man. Again, Young only shrugged. He went to the bed and sank down. The sigh that escaped from his lips came from deep within his soul.
"He loves you."
Young shook his head. He cringed inside. Misery hurt him. His heart felt as though it had a band around it, crushing the very soul from his body.
"He loved you enough to send you to safety." Young looked up at him. The sadness on his features tore at Hudson's heart. "You were in danger on board his ship. That poisoning was no accident." The startled look on the young man's face told the old cook that he had finally reached him. "The captain didn't know who it was. Didn't you wonder why you were never left alone? Either I or him were with you. Didn't you wonder?" Young shook his head. "You didn't?" Hudson opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "You're to come with me up to Scotland. I have a wee bit of land there. You're to stay with me until he comes for you. He said he explains it more in his letter to you."
Young laughed silently and a trifle cheerlessly, and shook his head. He held up his empty hands.
"I saw the captain hand you...did you chunk it, then?" When Young nodded, Hudson scowled. "Ah, well, it's too late now. Still, he thought to give me one too, and you will like my tiny place." Young shook his head. "I don't understand."
Young searched and located paper and pen. He wrote: No. I'm going home. He went back to the bunks and climbed up on top, sat there, staring defiantly at the old man.
"You can't. He's expecting..." Young held up his hands. There was anger on his youthful face, pain, bitterness, tension. "Ah, Ray, don't do that. He was only doing what he thought was the best for you." He waited but the mutinous look did not alter. "You know him better than that." Young's gaze did not change and Hudson gave up.