Free The Red King by Rosemary O'Malley

concern ebbed, as did the nausea,
when Fleming jumped and yelled.
    “Fucking Christ, Cook! Can’t you finish up?
How much longer?”
    “It’s too deep, Fleming. I can’t get the
needle into the wound to get it closed,” Cook apologized, looking
to the captain with helpless, red rimmed eyes.
    “Wrap it, then, and stop poking about in my
guts. I think I’ve had enough today,” the injured man said, but his
words lacked much heat. He was growing paler, his lips turning a
foreboding shade of bluish-gray. “Damnation…you might be right this
time,” he quipped with a small smile at his captain, and then he
passed out.
    Rory pulled his hand from his friend’s and
replaced it with Andrew’s. “Stay with him. Keep him alive.”
    “What are you going to do?” Andrew asked.
    “We’re bringing out the oars. The ship’s
repairs can wait, his cannot.” Rory ran from the room.
    While Cook packed the gash with as much fresh
linen as they had, Andrew returned to the other wounded men. “When
we make land I will get supplies for a salve that will help the
healing. You will be fine, we just need to watch for infections,”
he told them as he carefully rechecked their dressing. “How many
more are there?”
    “More what?” one of them asked.
    “Wounded.”
    “This is all of us.”
    Andrew was shocked. “What of the other ship?
Surely there are more men that need tending.”
    The man’s face was hard. “There were none
left.”
    “What?”
    “There was no quarter given.”
    “No quarter given?” Andrew asked in a
horrified whisper.
    “They’d killed their cargo, every captive, to
the last of them. The crew was ordered to as a warning to leave
Jans de Worrt’s ships alone and the captain, he responded in kind.
The ship is burning now. A more deserving fate would have been to
let it rot in the sun.”
    “How could they do that? How could Rory do that?” He felt sick again, sick and lost and
tired.
    “Andrew.”
    Andrew went immediately back to Fleming.
“Yes. Yes, I’m here,” he answered, placing his hand on the man’s
shoulder.
    “This is an ugly world you find yourself in.”
Regarding him with sad eyes, Fleming covered Andrew’s hand with his
own. “Men are foul things and act accordingly. If I were you, I
would find a little church to return to and live out your days in
peace.”
    “I don’t want that life anymore, Fleming,”
Andrew said, softly, taking the man’s fingers.
    Fleming smiled. “You want to follow Rory.
Aye, it shows in your face. It’s all right, Andrew. He inspires
loyalty, makes you want to follow him, makes you believe.”
    “That’s not…”Andrew began, but was cut short
by Fleming’s very soft laughter.
    “It may not be exactly what you feel at this
moment, but I see it. When you know where he came from, what he’s
been through, you’ll see him for his true self.” His voice wavered
and Andrew saw tears in the man’s eyes.
    “Fleming?” The hold on Andrew’s hand was
weakening. He clenched his fingers a little tighter.
    “He’s broken, Andrew, but not destroyed.
You’ll have to take care of him and you’ll need to be strong to do
it. You have to keep his pieces together, or Maarten will scatter
them to the four corners. He’s already tried, you see. He’s the one
who broke him.”
    The words rang in Andrew’s head. “I don’t
know what you mean.”
    “Of course not, not yet. It took me time,
too, and I never really managed to hold him.”
    Andrew understood, then. “You…you and
he…”
    “It was only for a short while, but I
couldn’t give him what he needed. I didn’t know what he needed. I
stayed with him because he was always more than my lover, he was my
friend. He was my brother and my savior. I love him with my whole
being.”
    “Oh, Fleming, I’m so sorry,” he whispered,
starting to weep.
    “I let that go a long time hence. It’s all
right, boy. It was quite to my liking to see him fretting over
you.” He smiled again, even