I did it for you, Archie.
Please do not look at me like that. I did it to preserve our
friendship. Your honour. Your life. I really did not have a choice. It was my
duty. Of all people, you should know that.
Please don’t weep. It is unmanly, and you have been unmanned enough. I
can understand how this is shocking for you. I can understand why you
are upset and surprised. But you must calm down, so that we can decide
what to do now. Because we must do something. We have no choice.
Do you remember when you first came to me, so shocked and angry that
your hands shook and you nearly cried? How you told me what you thought
he had planned, of how his mask of civilisation had slipped to reveal
the depraved monster underneath. We fought viciously, so viciously that I
struck you; I was unable to believe it. The man was my hero. I felt for
sure you were lying, because I simply could not accept the alternative.
It was unthinkable. Afterwards, you barely spoke or ate for days. You
slunk around the ship, the Indefatigable, like you had heard that
Simpson himself had been told that you were unhappy and was returning from
the dead just so he could cheer you up. And although we later made up
and I forgave you and you forgave me, you were still depressed. And then
suddenly, your depression lifted. Your eyes returned to the clear blue that I know so well, there was a lightness in your step and you seemed almost happy. Almost. But I knew you well enough to see a brittleness in your manner, something cold and dying in your heart, and slowly I began to suspect that all was not well as you had told me. When I asked what ailed you, you had respect enough for me not to
lie. Instead you asked me, so humbly, not to press further, not to try
to find out. I am sorry, Archie, that I could not obey. But I knew that
whatever was still troubling you was so terrible, so unspeakable, that
for friendships' sake I could not leave well enough alone. So I followed you. In a way that was totally foreign to my nature I slipped around the ship after you, dogging your footsteps and ducking into the shadows whenever you turned round in suspicion. You knew I was watching you. You are by nature much less trusting than I, and you knew better than to assume that I would be obedient to your wishes. It
took time, but finally, you grew careless. You forgot, just for a
moment, to be watchful and vigilant for my presence and I saw you. I saw you
come out of the cabin, his cabin, an emblem of his authority over
this ship and her men, smelling of sex and sin and depravity. I saw you
take a step out from the door and turn back and smile, leaning in to
accept a brief, catamite-like kiss on the lips. I saw the way he forced his
tongue into your mouth, how you pretended to enjoy it. Because you
did pretend Archie. I know you did. You pretended to enjoy his vile
lusts, to participate in his vile pleasures because you wanted to protect me. I am eternally grateful that you have done so, and now- now I
am repaying you.
Afterwards, with the image of the spectacle I had witnessed burning
behind my eyelids like it was engraved there in lines of fire, I stumbled
back to the small cabin that we both shared with the others of our
rank. I lay upon my hammock, the motion disturbing my already unsettled
stomach. I wondered how you could do it, debase yourself for him like
that. I wondered what it felt like.
I wondered if it hurt.
I didn’t have to lay there alone for long, because I soon heard your
step. You came in whistling, smiling, as if you had been on some pleasant
errand. But this time, I knew better. The smell of sea salt that always
clung to you, clung to us all, couldn’t quite cover the scent of the
rut. You saw me and said something, some meaningless greeting, I do not
know. I do not remember. But I do remember getting up and moving so
swiftly to your side that there was no way you could have possibly avoided
me. I reached out and tore your jacket from your shoulders, and while
you struggled with me, your shirt as well. And there, written on the
parchment of your skin, was all the proof that was needed to damn him.
To damn you.
To damn me.
To damn us all.
Passion marks, little purple bruises that are the results of violent
kissing and biting during love play covered your fair-skinned shoulders.
And there, at your wrists, the faint marks of rope-burn winding round
and around. I am not so naive as you think me to be, Archie. I knew what
the rope marks meant. He tied you down. He tied you down and raped you.
And you let him. Damn you. Damn you! In my anger and horror I struck
you. Once, twice, across one cheek and then the other. You, who are a
strong, proud man, fell weeping to the ground and begged for my
forgiveness. You begged. That was the worst part, I think. You’ve been broken
once before, but it took beatings and starvation and despair. But this
time, all it took was a brace of blows that would have barely made a
real man flinch, and my anger. And your shame.
You have earned the right to be ashamed, Archie. You should be ashamed
of what you and he did. Because it is wrong, Archie. It is against
God’s Law and it is against the Articles of War in His Majesty’s Navy.
But the fact that it was rape, that your pure love for me convinced you
that it was right to replace me in his vile lusts, excuses it somewhat.
Not all- you did go to him in some semblance of willingness. But enough
to save your soul.
I don’t know about the condition of his soul, though. God will judge
him, certainly. So why did I do it if I believe so firmly in God’s
higher power? In any higher power? It is so painfully simple, Archie.
Captain Pellew is a highly respected and successful officer. In these
times of war, the honour and self-respect of a single young Midshipman,
prone to fits and with his spirit broken once is barely worth the career
of a captain such as he. He is a proven warrior; in the basest terms
possible, you are expendable. Not he. I know that other men tend to regard
me as an innocent in many ways of the world, but I am not so innocent
as that. I know enough about the ways of others to know that in their
eyes, you are next to worthless. At best, if I had protested on your
behalf, this horrible thing would have continued. At worst, you and I would
have been disgraced, our careers over, banished from the service with
our reputations in tatters.
After my watch was finished I slipped down to the Captain’s cabin and
rapped softly on the door. He himself opened it, smiling because he
thought it was you and not I who had come knocking. He was not wearing his
coat, and his shirt was open all the way to where it tucked was into
his breeches. When he saw me, his smile abruptly vanished and Pellew the
man became Captain Pellew of His Majesty’s ship the Indefatigable. He
glared. He knew why I was there. He gritted his teeth and very
courteously invited me into the warm candle-lit interior of his private domain.
There was port set out on the table, with two glasses. Was the extra
glass for you, Archie? The Captain did not hold on formalities. He knew
that I knew, and he told me, in sharp, concise words, that what was
between you and he was not my business. He told me to go back to my cabin,
forget what I had witnessed. Mention it to no one. He wasn’t going to
listen to me, Archie. He had no intention of hearing my pleas on your behalf. He wasn’t going to leave you alone. He wasn’t about to give
you back your freedom, or your honour.
So I killed him.
I took out a knife and stabbed him. He didn’t seem to be expecting it.
Certainly, the statement on his face seemed to indicate that he was
surprised about something. The nerve of the man! Surely he was expecting
some kind of punishment for his crimes, surely he had some sort of
remorse? Or perhaps he didn’t expect retribution to come from my hands. For
whatever reason, he died very easily. When he told me to leave I
whipped out the long knife from the sheath tucked into the back of my
breeches and slipped it between his ribs, neat as you please. He did not
suffer. That is a pity, because he certainly did deserve to suffer for his
crimes. However, I had neither the time nor the opportunity to indulge
my outrage. If he had cried out, we would be dead now for sure.
I am sorry, Archie. I know that this must come as a shock to you. When
you walked into the cabin of the former Captain Pellew for your latest
assignation, I know that the last thing you expected was to see your
rapist- not lover, Archie, he was never your lover- lying dead on the
floor, blood on his chest and on the knife that I still held in my hands.
But you are free now. We are both free. But if we want to keep our
freedom we must act fast to cover this deed. If we are caught we’ll both
swing for sure. You don’t want to die, do you Archie? I don’t think you
do. You gave up on life once before, I refuse to accept that you would
do it again. Take a candle from the candelabra and light it. I will
pick up Captain Pellew and lay him in his berth, like this. Are you not
glad that you don’t have to join him in that bed any more? Here. Cover
him with this sheet and blanket. Like so. Yes. And now, give me that
candle. I’ll use it to set fire to the bedclothes covering him, and if!
the fire is hot enough it will burn away the evidence of the stab
wound. It will look like an accident. Ah! Do you see how easily he burns?
Surely a reflection of Satan’s fires that consume him now in hell.
We have to go now, Archie. It will only take a minute or two until the
smoke is noticed. We don’t want to be caught. I’ve taken the precaution
of loading some bread and water into one of the jolly boats, in case
the fire spreads to the rest of the ship. If we move towards it now, we
can surely launch it and escape in the confusion. We can sail towards
England, just you and I.
Just you and I.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
END
