Greed keeps men forever poor, even the abundance of this world will not make them rich. Even their tombs are too small. Nathaniel sat back; his eyes fixed on nothing. On his desk was a small pile of coins, polished to perfection and gleaming in the soft candlelight. He reached out unconsciously, touching the glimmering gold and feeling the familiar sensation, an electric tingle, flow through him at the coldness. Cold. Hard. And divinely beautiful. More alluring than the fabled Sirens that cursed the ears of many a seafarer. Every time his eyes sight of them, the draw grew. The bargain he'd made fell further into the abyss of his mind. He clicked his tongue, picking up the map thoughtfully. The faded images were still clear, albeit smeared, and far more useful than any writing. "Ain't goin' to hurt," he muttered. "Using what I bargained for to find what I sought, even if the damned thing ain't goin' to be happy by the end of it." He tossed the map aside and reached for the rum.
Lloyd swore under his breath as he plucked the wiry splinters from his chafed hands. The sharp fragments of the rope had embedded themselves snugly under the surface of the skin. It was times like this that Lloyd cursed himself for biting his nails as the blunted fingers struggled to pluck at the protruding ends. "Soak your hand for a while." Thomas glanced over as he walked past, hearing the grumbles. "That will bring them closer to the surface. One of the crew also swears by putting a thin layer of paste or something sticky on them. Then they pull out." "That sounds worse than waxing your legs." Lloyd forced a smile. "Something I swore I'd never do again. I took half the skin off." "It won't do that. Not if you're careful. We'll be sailing again soon, so you'd best sort it out before then. Try a potato. Press it for a while and it can draw them higher." The crew had slowly returned. Their faces set like stone as if they could feel no enjoyment anymore. The fascination of the e
"Why the hell is he lettin' pigs on board anyway?" The low voice was acidic. Much like its' owner. His glazed eyes scanned the deck to make sure no one was in earshot who shouldn't be. He couldn't risk being overheard, even about a topic that most everyone agreed upon. Nowadays the desire to stab someone in the deck was higher than ever. "Ain't my place to try and figure out what Hemlock is thinkin'," his companion muttered, sweeping the access water back into the cesspool of the sea. "Must 'ave some reason. And who bloody cares?" The man grimaced, filthy water splashing his filthy trousers. "He'd 'ave gutted him in the beginning." "If you're hinting that he's gone soft, then don't." The other looked up sharply, narrowing his eyes dangerously, the receded orbs glistening like slivers of glass. "This might be what we need. If Hemlock don't figure somethin' out, we've got a few ideas. Even if they don't work. It'll ease the strain." The pair fell silent, looking across the deck
The morning slipped in afternoon, the sun proud in the sky and radiating heat. The crew slackened their pace and work stilled for a while as they sought whatever shelter they could from the angry heat.Lloyd felt his legs buckle, collapsing in a heap in the shadow of the mast, sweat pouring from him. Every muscle in his body throbbed painfully, his hands red and chafed. They certainly never pictured this in the movies.He wasn't too sure why he was thinking of movies. Probably due to missing the couch, the TV and his collections of DVDs, his refuge after a hard day. Any break from reality would be savoured right now, even the lousiest of movies.'I wonder what Thomas or Nathaniel would think of them,' he thought to himself, trying to take his mind from his pains. 'They'd probably both find fault, especially if it's an era they know. Thomas would be more fun though; I don't think he'd be so astringent.'In the distance, the shape of an island glowed on the horizon. It was not the des
A harrowing scream echoed across the quiet ship.Lloyd's heart leapt into his throat, the broom falling from his hands. And he wasn't the only one, all of the crew ceased their work to turn in the direction of the cry.Smithy writhed and pulled against the ropes that bound him to the mast, cutting into his torso and wrists, leaving chafed, bloody rings on the latter. Foam bubbled from his mouth and his eyes bulged so far, those nearest feared he would lose them. They were stained red, where vessels had burst under strain and moist with pained and fearful tears."They're everywhere!" He screamed, the veins in his neck pulsating beside the throbbing Adam's apple. "Below the waves! In the sky! You have to kill them! The dead! The damned!" He threw his head back, slamming the back on his skull against the mask. "There ain't no Hell! This is Hell! Drowning in misery! Toys of the infernal!" Gibson moved across, muttering something urgently, but whatever words were uttered, they fell on de
Lloyd was tired as he sat in the chair and stared up and the blacken ceiling. He tossed his arm over his forehead as he stayed awake. Sleep seemed to be running away from him.Slowly, he sat and drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his chin on them. He didn't know why, but he felt if he were to fall asleep. Something would make sure he didn't open his eyes again."Get on with it," he muttered to himself and reached for the dusty book nearest him. "Maybe it'll keep you awake. Or scare you more so that sleep eludes better."His hand hovered over the bronze clasp of the drawer as he pulled the book to him. He knew Nathaniel would be livid if he pried into his papers...but that was a small risk if these pages yielded nothing.Still. This time, new information danced before him. Rather like a good novel, he saw different things. The words were blurred as if water had made the ink run. A high possibility when all was considered.'...a mighty Great President of He
Nathaniel sat in stony silence, trying to ignore Lloyd who was moving about plucking the books from the shelves and replacing them.He wasn't about to reveal what he was thinking. The frost that had settled in the room made any attempt at conversation or interaction awkward.And his stinging cheek only added to it.'Land ahoy!'The voice from above rang down through the room and Nathaniel finally glanced up, grabbing the bottle near him."Smooth sailing." He muttered, draining the tepid liquor and slamming the bottle back down. "Whether that bodes well for the rest of the journey is debatable.""You've been here before, at least that's a benefit." Lloyd clutched a book to his chest, his heart was palpitating. Nerves rushed through him, feelings of both unease and excitement. As a child, he'd wanted to see lands abroad. Africa, Asia...a fantastic storm of culture and beauty. But this was different. And as a child, he was blind to danger and to the ugliness that made that gorgeous tap
Lloyd lay where he was for a while. His eyes closed and his focus was solely on the soft sway of the ship. If he tried hard enough he could imagine himself swinging on the hammock in the garden on one of those lazy summer days that were few and far between.Normally he would be rudely disturbed by the cat next door. Jumping on him with a sly look in its eyes and a smug expression.Now he was disturbed by the general hubbub from above. The sound of dragging ropes and muffled shouts."I guess I ought to go up," Lloyd mumbled. "They don't like me as it is. If I start looking idling then they'll like me even less. And I don't think they'll be like the kids at school and just make digs at me."He wasn't expecting to be struck dumb by the sight that greeted him as he came to the deck. It was like he had stepped back in time. To the golden age of the sail and the time when the world was in its infancy discovering new countries.The island looked broody, like the illustrations in his books or
A dark aura, thick and foreboding, rolled with the mist over the deck, the two merging into a sinister shroud that enveloped the ship.Even the broad and beaming moon in the sky seemed to shrink back as it watched over the ship, pulling the tide away with it.Lloyd stepped out into the fresh air, briefly closing his eyes to savour the breeze's saltiness. After what he'd been through, this felt like Heaven.He was still weak, his legs aching and protesting as he tried to use them, and he slowly hobbled over to the rails.His mind was awash with what he had read, and he was trying to process the information that was slowly forming an intricate mosaic, a mosaic of fear, determination, and a growing understanding of the perilous situation he was in, with each piece falling into place. He looked at the churning mist, hovering like sea foam on the undulating waves."You won't feel so calm and confident soon," he whispered, a bitter edge to his voice. "All the harm you've done, all the inju
The repairs on the ship were slow and methodical.Despite Nathaniel's impatience, he understood the necessity of the slow pace of repairs and the potential consequences of haste. His legendary leadership became evident in his acceptance of the situation. Hasty repairs made for shoddy workmanship and usually led to a worse situation later. It was a bitter pill to accept. The whole aura of the island was not just unwelcoming, but hostile, as if the very air wanted to throw them back out to sea.It didn't dampen his temper, either. The slowness tore at his nerves, and the effort to conceal his impatience was a constant struggle.In stark contrast, Lloyd seemed unperturbed by the chaos around him. The clatter and grumbles were a mere whisper compared to the bustling restaurant he was used to. His mind was fixed on the text, and he concentrated so hard that his head throbbed as he tried to decipher the archaic script and faded lettering.'Pain is good for the soul,' he thought as he too
As soon as Higgins saw Nathaniel leave, he headed for Nathaniel's cabin. He came bearing gifts if one could call bread and dried meat gifts. He knocked once, then entered before Lloyd could respond. The sight of the drawn-looking form made him pause, his unease growing like a storm on the horizon.He quickly swallowed when Lloyd looked quizzically at him. He hurried to the desk, placed the chipped plate down, and scribbled a note.'Thought you might be hungry. It ain't much; I haven't cooked for ages.'"Thanks," Lloyd read the note. His stomach grumbled at the sight of the food, but he wasn't sure whether it was with need or revulsion. "And don't worry about it; food is food," he said, the lack of choice in his tone unmistakable.Higgins nodded, offering him the plate. He tried not to stare as he picked idly at the stale crust, his fingers hesitating over the harder parts, a process that seemed to stretch on uncomfortably.Even though their cupboards were never bare, that didn't prom
Alcohol.The scourge of the earth and the source of all its joy!Lloyd had a discerning taste or liked to think he did and was always particular about what he drank. Despite his modest income, he prioritised quality, saving for a decent brand. The thought of stale beer and plonk for wine was enough to make him shudder.In some ways, it was a blessing. He hadn't wanted to go down the route of drinking cheap booze to knock himself out. There were other ways to deal with day-to-day stress. Getting drunk now and then was good enough.The rum Nathaniel had was of a strength seldom found on the streets. In fact, one probably needed a special licence to brew it that strong. It was bitter and burned his throat as it practically evaporated on the way down. But at that moment, it tasted like the sweetest honey after the hideous journey of his dreams. "Shit...how do...you stay sober?" He asked between hurried but tiny swallows, each drop making his body shudder with delight and disgust and sha
Nathaniel returned to his desk. He was visibly shaken and glad Lloyd couldn't see it. Despite the younger male's belief that emotion didn't make him weak, it was hard to conquer.Emotion, whatever it was, had always been an enemy to fight.He seized three books, practically tearing the pages as he searched the lengthy paragraphs. It seemed like hours before he finally caught sight of something that could help.It was a long shot, and it was dangerous, but time was running out.'I ain't got a choice. And I ain't wasting any more time. If this works, I'll have time later to see if there's anything else to ease things.' He looked over at the bed, biting his lip.Lloyd clutched at the air, desperate for anything to help him sit up. Lying down, he felt as if a chain was wrapped tight around his chest, and someone, or something, had its hands around his throat. "Nathaniel, it's getting hard to swallow, and it hurts when I take too deep a breath." His voice sounded far away, an echo in his
Thus, he loved. Thus, he lostLife was cruel, and he paid the cost.Oh, illness and death was sharp and strongHe cursed the Gods of new and old.Above in Heaven, he doth hear. He felt, he sensed, the mortal fear Thy mortal soul, you'll suffer still But blessed you'll be when you slay evil.Lloyd tossed in his sleep as pain and infection coursed through his limp body. His dreams moved freely, each more unpleasant than the last.He sat, his body slack and covered in clammy sweat, in the damp, dark cave where Blake had trapped him. Like towering spectres, the shadows seemed to mock him as unseen creatures stirred within them.A grotesque figure, human in form but radiating a foul stench, stood at the mouth of the cave, blocking the light.'I hunger. Death is unkind. The master will not allow me to feed except on my own body. I ate my heart. It broke my teeth...but I crave soft flesh.'Blake's mouth dripped with desperation and grim desire as it reached Lloyd's ears. He could almos
Lloyd proceeded cautiously towards Nathaniel's room. His pride slowed his step, but the odd feeling that the others were talking about him slowed it even more.The way the amulet pulsated, like a frantic heartbeat, made him believe that his ordeal was not yet over. He took a breath when he reached the door, bolstering his nerves before throwing it open without even a by-your-leave, smiling brightly as Nathaniel span around, the look of shock a novelty in the usually irritated eyes. "What on earth do you..." The question remained unfinished as Lloyd stalked boldly over and slid into his lap, curling his arms around his neck. "I know we're going to leave land...But how long have we got? Or when do we reach land again?" He asked, "I have a surprise for you." He winked, his lips curling in a sly, seductive grin. "And I think it's one you'll appreciate." Nathaniel was silent for a moment, his eyes flitting from Lloyd to the chart on his desk. Lloyd could almost see his thoughts shatte
Lloyd gazed over the open water, closing his eyes as the salt stung them, blown in from the soft waves that caressed the lonely shore."Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it," he smiled at Nathaniel tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck. The etching of a deep scar still lay there, concealed by his hair. It wasn't the first time he'd nearly lost his life. But that was a story for another day; he just wanted the man to know he wasn't ignorant of violence. Nathaniel reached out, his finger ghosting the red mark and sending tingles through Lloyd's body."I can always take what comes at me," he whispered, turning to kiss the man's hand. "And I have the marks to prove it."Nathaniel gave a sad smile and withdrew his hand with a shake of his head."I have plenty of stories for all my scars. Each of 'em fairly gruesome..." He remembered all of them. They weren't events one could forget. "They ain't important." He turned away abruptly. "Come to my room whenever you're ready, and I'll sho
The cabin seemed to glow with warmth as Nathaniel cradled Lloyd in his arms, trying to avoid putting too much pressure on the bandage, however close he wanted him.A red hue had already seeped through the thick material, unseen in the throes of desire, but something that now irritated him.He should have known better. He should have resisted him as he had resisted people for centuries, as well as morals."I'm going to need to redo your bandages..." He whispered, his voice flat and pragmatic. "I don't want you getting ill..."Lloyd glanced down. He hadn't been aware that his wounds had opened again, but now the sting was beginning to tease his nerves.It had been worth it, though, to feel wanted and desirable. Not just a one-night stand that would be forgotten like yesterday's trash."Well, let me get my bearings a bit before you do. I hate moving when I'm settled," he said, shifting slightly to ease the pressure on his torn skin. "It's not too bad. Just a little sensitive. My own faul