Raised By Wolves 3 - Treasure (89 page)

Gaston found me there later. I was not sure how much time had passed. I had grown tired of being bitten while trying to gather food to eat, and lit the fire and damped the flu and sat in a cloud of smoke attempting to gather the reins on my racing thoughts. He sat next to me, and I handed him a piece of bread and cheese.

I gazed into his questioning eyes through tears that were not solely smoke-induced. “I loved him, and I loved Shane, and other men like them; in that they were liars to the very core of their beings. They were not creatures of light, but of the deepest shadows of the cave where they dwelled. They drew sustenance from the cave, from the shadows that other people call reality. They cannot exist without those shadows. They would have to become entirely different people if they stepped into the light and had to face their souls. And yet, I loved them and… I knew that about them even then, though I could not put names or order to it as I can now with our metaphors. I saw them as strong, that they could…

manipulate all around them with such ease. That they towered above weaker men who… Men who lived within the realm of reality, which was a place I did not wish to dwell, or even dwell upon. I wanted the lies. I wanted the shadows where I too could hide.

“And I am ashamed; and I wonder at myself, and I wonder if perhaps I viewed them as being mad after a fashion for being as they were, and thus I wished to care for them. And that… I am not pleased with that thought. I wonder if… It is like the… It is like my feeling a man did not love me unless he was willing to take me even if he felt it was wrong.

Somehow. It is… Like my feeling you will not love me – that you will leave me there alone on the side of the road if you do not need me. I feel… I have felt, that in order for any to love me, I must be needed. And I have felt that they needed me because they were mad… in that they dwelled in the shadows and could not see truth and… They must have been hiding from some great wound as I was.

“And now, it all appears so odd, looking back on it. I can see why I did what I did, ran where I ran, but it is as if it happened to another and… I want no part of it. Yet, I know denying it is only a thing of shadows and madness, too.”

His eyes were as teary as mine, and yet he brushed my tears away gently with his thumb and allowed his to roll down his cheeks.

“I will always need you,” he whispered. “I will always want you. I will always love you. And I know you know that. You have led me from darkness. You won once; do not mourn those who could not follow you, who could not see you, who could not love you enough to overcome their fear.”

His words swelled my heart, but even so I considered them carefully.

Was I mourning? Was this as I had told Striker, that some things must be mourned? And what was I mourning now: my long-lost innocence, or that some souls, the souls of those I once loved, were truly lost? And did I believe that any soul could be truly lost: that any man could not step beyond the cave into truth?

Yes – and that yes came from a position of hubris so profound it brought mirth to my lips. They could not be saved unless someone like me loved them, and I could not love them all or long enough to save them when they would not return my love.

Gaston raised a curious eyebrow at my bark of laughter.

“They were too blind to love me enough to allow me to save them,” I said.He did not regard me with admonishment or incredulity: he simply nodded.

“That seems too wrong a thing to say,” I whispered. “It is such…”

He silenced me with a kiss, and I quashed my protest. I should trust him. He was truth.

Alonso did accompany us the next day, and he stayed well clear of me; and we did locate the apothecary, and quinine – and once I saw the price marked upon the label, I was pleased we were robbing the place.

And though it was a good-sized bottle, it would not be one-tenth of what we needed if men began to sicken in the numbers they had at Porto Bello. So we took all we could, and vowed to continue searching the next day. That evening, Cudro and Ash arrived. They had been on one of the sorties to the plantations to locate prisoners and valuables. Cudro appeared concerned when he entered, and upon seeing our pile of goods upon the table, he became alarmed.

“Good God, if any think you’re hoarding…”

“It is all medicinal,” I said. “Men should bloody well not clamor to have their share of it. And if by some act of divine providence we do not need it, then, aye, it can be shared out with all the rest.”

“Gaston and Farley should probably meet with the other surgeons about it, then,” he said. He sighed. “We don’t need trouble. There is another matter. I have been told that you and Pete are to go on the next sortie. Morgan has instructed that all men not injured or surgeons are to go on the raiding parties.”

My anger was fast to rise. “We were mentioned by name?”

Cudro sighed again. “Aye and nay. Bradley is in charge of assembling the sorties, but he has passed much of the matter on to the quartermasters for each ship. Boller came to me as soon as I returned.

He’s been afraid to come and speak to you of it,” he chided.

I snorted. “So Bradley mentioned us?”

“Nay; I don’t know,” he sighed again. “Boller mentioned the two of you by name, and said…” He held up his hand to keep me silent.

“Hastings told him that you two had been discussed, and it had been noted you were staying here and not raiding. That bastard Hastings is Bradley’s quartermaster; but I don’t know, and Boller sure as the Devil doesn’t know, if Hastings was told by Bradley to mention you, or if Morgan mentioned you to Bradley. I think it’s likely that Hastings is up to deviltry. And I was going to go and ask Bradley of it, but he’s out leading a party recovering treasure.”

“Then let us ask Morgan,” I said, and walked toward the door.

“Nay, Will,” Cudro said. “I will speak to him.”

“Nay,” I said, resolved. “He already dislikes me.”

“All the more reason then!” Cudro rumbled.

“Nay! If Morgan is party to our doom, then he had best say it and we will be done with it!” I walked out into the night, Gaston thankfully at my heels.

“Will?” he queried with some humor as we entered the square. “Are you well?”

I grinned at him. “I do not know. Should I stop?”

“Non, I will follow where you lead.”

That steadied me, though I was not sure how unsure my footing had been before. He was with me, and we were one; and thus, though I boiled with anger, I must watch myself.

We found Morgan holding court in the town hall. He was sitting on a table, bottle in hand, listening to some man’s tale when we entered; and at first he did not see us. Then we were beside him, and he peered at me with surprise.

“Might I have a word with you?” I asked. “In private.”

There were mutters of concern from the closest men, but Morgan stood and followed me as I snatched up a lamp and led him to the rear doorway. When we reached it, Morgan glanced back at his bodyguards and Gaston.

“If they don’t go in, neither does he.”

I shrugged, and glanced at Gaston, who smiled and stepped back. I could well be about to do a thing that could get us killed, but he trusted me. I smiled grimly as Morgan closed the door behind us.

We were in an office with a great desk along one wall and a table near the other. I set the lamp on the corner of the table, and we stood near the middle of the room, adjusting our positions until the light shone on both our faces.

“What is amiss?” Morgan asked seriously.

I was surprised at his lack of bombast, and then suspicious of it.

Still, I vowed to give him the benefit of doubt as to his guilt in the matter.

“You know of the bounty my father has placed upon Gaston and Striker, do you not?”

He did not blink. “Doesn’t everyone? Has someone tried to collect it?”

I snorted. “Not yet, or that we have learned of it. However, our captain, Cudro, was told tonight that Pete and I are to abandon our matelots here in town and go on one of the raiding parties.”

“By who?” he asked.

“So you gave no order naming us?” I asked.

“Never,” he sighed and grinned, and showed how much rum he had consumed. “You and that golden god are two of the last damn people I wish to cross.” He frowned. “And Cudro is your man as much as anyone’s. So who told him?”

I believed him. I sighed and moved to lean against the wall with unexpected relief. Morgan offered me the bottle with a wry grin, and I took it and a long pull. After I wiped my mouth, I said, “Bradley’s quartermaster, Hastings, told our quartermaster, Boller, that our lack of participation had been noted, and that you had laid edict that all must participate unless they were surgeons or injured.”

Morgan shrugged. “I did say that. I did not mean you two in particular. I will call on you to render your services if I need a thing translated prettily, and Pete… Striker needs him.” He chuckled. “You know, I have given great thought to our little talk on the beach that day.

There are many people I don’t want as enemies.” His humor flowed away, and he regarded me speculatively, but without rancor. “You do not wish to lead men?”

“Nay,” I said and took another pull before returning the bottle to him.

“Is that why you do this, to lead men?”

He snorted, but his words were serious. “I wish for fame and glory.

One must lead men and have wealth and win battles to have those things.” He frowned at me again. “And those are things you do not seem to want.”

“Nay, I do not,” I said with a shrug. “There are times when I feel compelled to assist my fellow man, but I have found it is often more effort than it is worth, because the men most in need of assistance often do not wish to be assisted, or even realize they need assistance.”

“So why are you ever challenging me?” he asked.

“Because I feel you lead men astray – or in directions not in their best interests, but in yours.”

He laughed. “Everyone does that, you fool.”

I laughed with him. “I know. It does not mean I must like it.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose not.” He studied me again. “So you are truly no threat to me. You do not covet my position?”

“Nay,” I said.

“Good.” He sighed and turned to me again with his head cocked. “But what of Striker? He is well-liked, and he could lead the men if he just put himself to it. I keep wondering what he is waiting for.”

I sighed. “I do not feel he is as ambitious as you. Aye, he wishes for fame and glory, but he does not entertain grandiose plans on the scale of yours. And… He has Pete, who sees grandiose plans and ambitions as a great deal of work.”

“Ah,” Morgan said as if it were a revelation. “I did not wish for any harm to come to him, but…” He shrugged. “I have considered that it might be in my best interests if he did not live.” His statement was nonchalant, but his speculative gaze was quickly upon me in its wake.

I shrugged. “You think I have not met men who think as you do before?”

He chuckled and looked away. “Nay, I think you have, and I think you killed them.”

I laughed. “Aye, when they crossed me.”

“Ah-ha,” he said with a smile, and gestured at me with the bottle.

“That is why I have given great thought to crossing you of late. There was a time when I would not have, because of your father; but now I know I would have to have you killed first before I did a thing that angered you, and I see no need to stoop to that.”

“I am grateful to hear it,” I said with a grin. “You have far more men at your disposal than I could fend off.”

“True that,” he said without irony. “So, as of yet, neither of us want the other dead. And yet there are those among our company who do want you or yours dead.”

“Aye. Can you offer aid?”

He frowned at me. “Why did you come here if you know men are hunting you?”

“To draw them out, far from the women and children.”

“Ah, very good.” But then he was frowning again and he sighed as he considered the bottle before setting it aside. “What aid could I offer that would not impede that plan? If I say that any man of our company harming another for a bounty will be hung, then…”

“Our quarry will hide until we return home, aye,” I said with regret.

He nodded. “I will not question your having to kill a man in the name of defending your man or Striker, though. If you catch one making the attempt, I can speak afterwards of knowing of it. And if you find one you suspect before he shows his hand, like this man Hastings, you have my leave to duel him.”

“Thank you,” I said solemnly. “Having you on our side will make the matter much easier.”

He met my gaze. “Do not argue with me so much in front of the men as you have in the past.”

“All right, I will not. May I argue with you privately?”

He laughed. “Aye.” He sobered. “Your counsel has proven useful.”

“I am glad for that. Allow me to give some now. Gaston and Farley, who are the only surgeons among us trained as physicians, fear that we will see the swamp fever, malaria, as we did at Porto Bello. This place is just as fetid: the air is very bad. We have been collecting medical supplies from the Spanish apothecary and houses. If anyone makes note that we are hoarding booty; that is what that is about. We will do all we can to help those afflicted if the illness strikes, but it would be best if we remained here as short a time as possible – though I know damn well that most of the men here would rather risk death than go home without gold.”

“Thank you for that information,” he said with a frown. “Tell me if there is anything else we can do if it begins to strike.”

I nodded and offered my hand.

He clasped it firmly. “I am pleased we have reached this understanding.”

“As am I.”

We walked smiling from the room and were met by a dozen curious faces. Gaston fell into step beside me as I headed to the door.

Morgan returned to the table. “It was nothing – just the damn physicians worrying about medical supplies. They put such import on everything, like we’re all going to contract the plague.”

I was chuckling as we walked into the street. I quickly relayed all to Gaston.