Page 71 of The Noble's Merman

I’d like fresh air too, Kent thought, but didn’t wish to push his luck by saying it aloud.

“Of course he’ll let you up,” said Grant. “You’re not a prisoner, are you?”

“I suppose not. Well!” Seth let out an obnoxious, exasperated sigh.

Kent proceeded to take the bottle and splashed a bit of rum into Allen’s wound. He groaned again, but Kent hushed him, ensuring that this was for the best to clean it as he finally covered and wrapped the injury in another clean cloth. “I know it hurts, but please, endure it,” he said as he held his hand over the cloth, giving pressure. “You’re doing very well.”

“Thank you, Fareham,” said Allen, after another moan.

“You’re welcome. Do you need another drink?”

“Yes, please.”

Grant tipped the bottle to Allen’s lips. After he drank, Kent asked the surgeon if he could fetch him a needle and thread to stitch the wound. Grant nodded, got up, and left, leaving the two alone with Seth again.

So this was to be Kent’s ‘home’ for the next fortnight. At least he thought it’d been a couple weeks since they departed England on The Sterling Mer, and desperately hoped it wouldn’t take longer than that. Also, at least, he had a familiar face to give him company. But at what cost?

“Allen, I… I’m terribly sorry that this all happened. That you became caught up in this mess,” he said, keeping his hand steady on the wrapped wound.

The sailing master shook his head. “Don’t burden yourself with the thought.”

“But, despite my initial conditions, you agreed to join the pirate’s crew! Do you realize the repercussions of that? You cannot return to England without careful consideration… Now that you’ll be branded a pirate, you cannot go onshore without fear of the noose.”

Allen shrugged with his good shoulder. “The sea has been my home for some time, anyway. I haven’t had a permanent home on land for at least a couple years since joining Brooks’s crew. Perhaps it’s the merman in me, keeping me at sea.”

Kent wanted to chuckle, but worrisome thoughts still creeped in his head. “But these men… did you hear some of the comments they said about me? These are not good people.”

“Oi, watch your tongue!” Seth retorted, taking a seat on the hammock closest. “Sure, some of the other men are bad, but you haven’t properly known me. I am a wonderful person, who’d never say that about you!”

Kent gave a humorless smirk. “Well, thank you, I suppose.”

“Those men need some more dignity when it comes to finding creatures they wish to fuck. You can’t simply intimidate them with menacing threats! You need to be calm, charming, and persuasive. Gauge the other party’s interest if they’d enjoy the same, first.”

Kent and Allen looked at each other, dumbfounded. Is this man really saying this to us? they silently said to each other via their shared curious expressions.

Well, it seemed like their strange pirate companion would give them some entertainment for the voyage ahead, at least.

If only I could see Mo. He said he would follow the ship; I know he is doing so right now. The same tingling feeling swirled around in his chest, pulsing so peculiarly. It had to be some sort of magic. The connection that was tying them together, signaling to Kent that Mo had to be nearby.

Kent let out a deep breath. He was relieved to know—and feel—that no matter what, his beloved merman would hold to his promise to stay close.

TWENTY-FOUR

Kent was counting the days—a week had already passed. A whole week stuck inside this room, having meals brought to him consisting of bread crusts and salted fish, sleeping on a thin blanket on the hardwood floor, and sharing a crude chamber pot between the three of them. It was rough living this way, and especially jarring coming from the comfort they had known on The Sterling Mer. But at least it was temporary, and once back in England, Kent would be free again. He didn’t wish to say goodbye to Allen, and he definitely was not looking forward to his father’s reaction to the situation, but he was playing with the cards he was dealt, using the best strategy he saw fit. His father would understand. Allen reassured him time and time again that he would be fine. And then, after that, he could be with Mo again.

Aside from Allen, the only other soul he spoke to was Seth. Occasionally, Seth went out onto the upper deck and Kent and Allen were left alone, but the door was always kept locked, keeping them in the musky room regardless. How he wished he had his books, but all of his possessions he’d brought were left on The Sterling Mer. At least they’d stay safe there, and hopefully could be returned to him once the ship docked in Portsmouth after her round trip.

How long until The Sterling Mer would reach her destination in New England? Last he heard when he was still on board, Captain Brooks had said they’d reach Fall River in a fortnight. If it had already been a week… hopefully only one more remained. Kent could only pray they stay safe without his or Allen’s presence, and will find people to fill their missing roles once on land.

Allen was recovering quite well. Kent had an exquisite talent with the needle, and had sewn him up precisely and carefully, holding his wound together and keeping it clean and monitored with fresh bandages. The redhead continually thanked Kent for his good work, showing his appreciation with assuring kind words and gentle smiles. Kent was pleasantly surprised no sort of infection took its course with how long the wound was exposed before treatment, but perhaps, Kent thought, the mer-blood in Allen’s body protected him against that.

And of course, Mo never left Kent’s mind. His beloved merman must’ve been terribly worried since they couldn’t see each other this entire time, and Seth had mentioned he’d seen Mo bobbing his head out of the water a few times when he had gone above deck himself. Though, by his captain’s orders, Seth wasn’t allowed to say anything to the merman other than that Kent was still alive and secure. Kent tried looking out the porthole window for any signs of him out on the water, but the glass was so clouded with green grime and grease, it was a miracle if he could see the sea at all. But despite not being able to meet each other, that pulsing in his chest continued to assure Kent that his merman truly was always nearby. He didn’t understand what the feeling even was, but he just knew. Mo was there, and he figured as much, Mo must’ve been feeling the same pulse as himself. Love connected them. It was the magic Mo’s whale friend Noon described, tying the merman to humanity and, eventually, would grant Mo legs when the time was right.

On the subject of merfolk in particular, Seth had a lot to say. Captain Young wasn’t lying when he also called Seth a ‘mer-fucker’, and Seth himself rambled and raved about his dearest mermaid friend?—

—without censoring anything.

If Kent thought their pirate companion was brash before, he had a whole new view of him from listening to his lewd monologues this past week. Yes, Seth never said anything lewd about Kent himself like he’d promised, but that didn’t stop him from spouting other nonsense. Allen tried calming Seth down occasionally, telling him he’d already said plenty, but Seth was quick to ignore any suggestions. He told tale after tale of himself and a mermaid named Wenta, how she had boarded the ship previously and, in great unnecessary detail, of their sexual escapades. It was like listening to someone read out loud to them an erotic novel.

---