The Haunting

by

Eliza Bay

Captain Pellew preferred a morning stroll by the shipping yards whenever court duty and necessary hulk maintenance kept him ashore. This day, as had been for the past two weeks, Pellew walked past the Indefatigable and saw the Medusa docked along side the bigger ship, floating forlornly with her sails down. With a scowl Pellew waved aside an officer and made enquiries.

"She's been sitting there for a fortnight, it should not take so long to load her with supplies."

The unfortunate Lieutenant blanched at being singled out by the admiral's enquiries and turned even paler when he deduced from Pellew's stature and appearances who he was.

"She's been ready for sailing for a week, sir, only waiting for the Captain to board." Licking dry lips, the young man ventured timidly. "Has her command been assigned?"

Pellew shot him a vexed look out of the corner of his dark eyes. "Indeed. His majesty' orders were delivered by my very hand." And at that Pellew walked off at a rapid pace in the direction of the head quarters, in search of the Medusa's wayward captain.

Horatio Hornblower looked up from his readings with a vague smile on his lips.

"Good morning, Mister Hornblower," Edward Pellew stepped into the sick-ward with an abrupt air about him.

"Good morning, Captain," Horatio stood up to attention and saluted him smartly.

Pellew raised an eyebrow at that. "We are brother captains now, Mister Hornblower, you needn't salute me."

Horatio only blinked with a mystified look on his face, but said nothing.

"Well, it is a fine day, is it not?" the senior captain did not want to beat around the bush, he remarked in a tone dripping with sarcasm. "One would say it is good weather for *sailing*."

"Most suitable, Sir," Horatio replied, with a grin, but added sotto voce. "Though we should not say so in his presence. Archie has been most unhappy that he cannot go out onto the sea yet."

Pellew's eyes widened with shock and he swept his glance up to look at Horatio's face. The young man looked back at him, smiling innocently.

"Archie? Mister Kennedy?" Pellew was shaken as he said the name.

"Yes," Horatio's mouth pouted slightly. "I was reading to him before you came in sir. A Winter's Tale by William Shakespeare, where the Queen, who everyone thought dead, comes back to life marvellously and is reunited with her husband. Mister Kennedy enjoys the reunion scenes."

"Good Lord, Horatio," Captain Pellew had the deepest canals drawn between his eyebrows and an expression of grief on his face as he looked upon his favourite. "Archie Kennedy is dead! He suffered wounds inflicted upon him by the enemy and died at the end of the mutiny trial. In this very room, on that bunk."

Horatio's glance followed the Captain's pointing finger to the empty bed beside him. He stood regarding the clean white sheets until his own handsome face hardened into a similar blankness.

Pellew bit his own lips, his chest ached to see the confusion flitter over Hornblower's face and the nothingness that replaced the momentary panic frightened him even more deeply.

"Horatio," Pellew breathed and extended his arms to offer the comfort of his embrace.

Horatio stepped into his arms reluctantly at first, then his strong arms clamed around Pellew and the hug turned fierce. Pellew's heart beat at double speed in his bosom as Horatio leaned down to sniff his hair.

"Horatio," Pellew stuttered. "You can let go now."

"I will, my dear Mister Wellard," Horatio sighed tremulously and Pellew felt the icy fingers of horror tingle up his spine though it was full day light outside the windows and many called him a vastly courageous man.

"I will let you go as soon as you feel well enough for me to," Horatio was saying in a soft gentle tone. "Fear not that the Captain will discover us. We are innocent. And you are in need of human affection. And I will never allow him to torment you again. Not you, not Archie, not so long as I have control of my limbs and my mind."

"I'm not Midshipman Wellard, Horatio," Pellew attempted to say in as calm and steady a manner as he could manage. "Look at me carefully, do you recognise me?"

Horatio slowly extricated himself and seemed to study Pellew's face. Then a sort of recognition crossed his features and Horatio stumbled back and laughed bitterly with an overtone of fright.

Horatio stared up with imploring eyes. "For a moment there, I thought you were Wellard, and he is dead, he had his guts blown out by the Spanish along side that devil of a Captain. Dear God, Archie, I am losing my mind!"

Pellew shut his eyes and could not watch the spectacle of Horatio's distress any longer.

"Do not try to think, Horatio, do not worry who I am," he coaxed the young Captain to sit down on the bunk and then lie down upon it. "Only that I am your friend and that you must rest. You have exhausted yourself hiding your grief for the loss of your shipmates and all the while that I'd thought you uncommonly stern hearted, you've been wearing your sharp mind into delirium."

"Mr Wellard, you must not help me to bed, and you must not say these things, if the Captain or anyone else overhears they will think the worst of you," Horatio protested as Pellew forced his head down on the pillow. "And you are far too young to know what your heart truly desires. I will be more despicable than the worst Simpson if I took advantage of your innocent affectation."

"Very well," Pellew nodded, holding back the burning in his eyes and slipped off the bed.

"Archie," Horatio moaned loudly. "At least we are on this hellish vessel together. And that is my greatest comfort. We will never be separated. We will have captaincy of a ship of our own some day. One just like Captain Pellew's."

"And you do," Edward paused by the door of the cell and whispered softly. "Just as soon as you recover."

But Horatio did not appear to hear or comprehend, he would not cease twisting on the bed and speaking to illusions of his own minds making. With a heavy heart Edward left him and sought the urgent help of the finest doctors the Navy had.

The tranquillisers took effect so that Horatio fell into a fitful sleep. Captain Pellew consulted the surgeon and the guards who attended the sick room. They deduced that Horatio's condition was one induced by a lack of sleep, battle trauma as well negligence to eat. Edward was greatly relieved at that diagnosis, it would be a tragedy if Horatio's mind was lost in the incident of the mutiny. In any event, Pellew felt a great burden of guilt, and wondered if he had not worsened Horatio's predicament by thrusting upon him the command of the Medusa without allowing him any time for grief.

He had meant well, of course. Pellew had detected something in the shattered look in Horatio's eyes when he came in to hand him the letter of command. He'd known Horatio and Kennedy were close, and understood the sorrow and bleakness Horatio must have felt for he himself fought the same blackness when he'd thought Horatio would be hung for mutiny.

Edward was grateful for Horatio's survival of the trials, but now he saw that in his frantic attempts to rescue the young man he so deeply valued he had more or less sacrificed the welfare of Lieutenant Kennedy. Indeed, did he not keep utterly silent when Kennedy incriminated himself to save his best friend and allowed the young man to sacrifice his good name in the very last of his days on earth.

An evil thought entered Pellew's head as he looked down at Horatio's sleeping face, a dreadful doubt which made Pellew sweat: had it been veiled jealousy which kept his lips sealed? Did he suspect Kennedy loved his brother Lieutenant and that Horatio returned those feelings and out of spite, had allowed this tragedy to unfold?

Taking a deep breath, Pellew steadied his own thoughts and examined himself. No, he was not as base as that. His own conscience was clear with regard to Archie. He'd exercised diligent care for _Midshipman_ Kennedy and respected _Lieutenant_ Kennedy enough to allow him to rise to the stands and defend his friend, to make whatever choices he had deemed necessary and bequest upon Horatio a parting gift, that of mercy and love.

Whatever Horatio shared, or did not share, with Archie was gone, carried away like a fair cloud over the expanse of the ocean, never to return again. And Horatio was now alone in the world, without the love of his friend to give guidance to his stellar intellect and sapphire heart.

With a clarity in his own mind, Edward sent away the nurses and officers in attendance and climbed onto the cot, gathering Horatio against himself and closed his eyes. He had made a determination for his own fate and when day light graced this cell again, he would tell Horatio of what had haunted him for many years since a young seaman by the name of Hornblower boarded the Indefatigable.

Pellew awoke to the feeling of long fingers touching his face, moving slowly, gingerly over his eyes and mouth. When he opened his eyes, a pair of brown eyes looked back at him with lucidity as well as amazement.

"How do you feel Horatio?" he asked tenderly.

"Like I'd just awakened from a long gruesome dream," Horatio answered, brushing his thumb against Pellew's eyebrow. "Only I know the repercussions are real. And the loss is excruciating. But at least I can feel it. And eventually, bear it."

"Did you love him?" Pellew caressed along a stubbled jaw and traced the shallow dent of sunken cheek.

"Yes," Horatio answered.

"Did you ever make love to him?" Pellew stoked Horatio's lips.

"No," Horatio turned his face into the pillow and to muffle a sob, then whispered. "And how I regret I didn't!"

Edward kissed him on the side of the face.

"One man who I love abidingly and one boy who loved me and I wish they would haunt me, that their ghosts would never leave me," Horatio confessed through gritted teeth. "But they do not, and I cannot feel their presence any longer, not even in this cursed cell room. I cannot wish for Archie to be in heaven, because he has made it hell here for me, without him."

Edward allowed Horatio to rant and pressed more kisses into his gesturing hands and neck.

"And all I have left, before me, is the reality of you," Horatio's brows furrowed as he looked at Pellew, at the emotions infusing the Captain's dark looks with passion as he gazed on Horatio. "The astonishing discovery of being gripped in a strangle hold by you, lying on the same mattress no less. You who have been my teacher and my Captain and father and comrade, but never gave hint of any of this."

He made clear what he meant by sucking a sweet kiss from Pellew's lips.

"We are too much alike," Pellew murmured, returning twice what he received. "And I would have waited too, until I had lost you to war or to time and never disclosed of my feelings. But now let us cast off secrets and lies for something illicit and everlasting."

They undressed and wrestled on the bunk and sometimes Horatio called out for Kennedy or Wellard, but Pellew did not mind, for as oft as not, it was his name Horatio whimpered. They were making love with ghosts and angels, while the Medusa waited patiently and in the certain knowledge of her Captain's return.