Chapter 20. The Queen of the Sea

ut at sea, the squall raked the waves and sang through the rigging, a dire song that put the sailors on edge and made the captain curse beneath his breath. The Mermaid bucked and rolled as the waves rose, forming deep roiling troughs. Brekke excused herself and went below decks to huddle in her tiny berth.

As the only woman aboard, she had the luxury of privacy. She sensed that when the ship was not taking passengers, her room in the stern belonged to the captain or the pilot. It was a tiny little nook and the only mildly comfortable place to ride out the storm. Now she curled within her little bunk, clinging to its edges as she slid too and fro. At times like this she began to doubt her rash decision to go chasing off to Cantha. What had she been thinking?

It was not her first ocean voyage by any means, nor the first storm she had weathered shipboard. Her father had been a wealthy merchant back when Ascalon was a thriving country with wealth to spare for luxuries. As she had come of age, she had often traveled with him and her aptitude for languages had come in handy. She knew several tongues, among them imperial Canthan, Luxon and Kurzick. Her scholarly tendencies had not gone unnoticed, of course. She had been invited to study at several academies, but she had loved to travel and had instead been gifted with a series of private instructors that her father had funded during their journeys.

All of that was behind her now, of course. Like many of her kind she was cast adrift, having few connections and little purpose. Brekke journeyed to Cantha because she could, because she needed a break from the bleakness of Ascalon and the veiled hostility of Kryta. New sights and sounds, life, and perhaps fine clothes and art -- these things drew her away. Maybe she would finally be allowed inside of the imperial library and would get to peruse the legendary store of knowledge there from around the world.

It was too dim and dark to read, too chaotic to attempt producing light and thus she merely lay there occupying her thoughts with more pleasant concerns. Eventually she dozed off, for she had never been given to seasickness and had learned to sleep just about anywhere. She was drawn awake in darkness by the gruff old captain when he opened the door.

“Witch! Come above decks.”

She frowned. The man was agitated, afraid for his ship and afraid of her. Why should this be? Slowly she rolled out of the bed and straightened her heavy traveling gown, reaching for her wool cloak and draping the weathered gray fabric around her narrow shoulders. The man towered menacingly over her as she strode past him. The ship was becalmed.

As her booted feet struck the planks, she felt something, her psyche twanging as a presence sought for her. Alarmed, she felt the captain collide with her back as she stopped short and listened. A strange sound permeated the air, something just at the edge of hearing, like tinkling glass and bells tolling in some primordial dream. Fear flared within her as she stood in the enclosed darkness of the tiny corridor.

“Go!” the captain roared.

Brekke stumbled, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the thing. She did not know what else to call it. No human had a mind like that, vast and scattered as the sea. Emerging onto the deck she saw the sheen of water clinging to everything. The rigging glowed against the sky, outlined in eldritch energies that cast an eerie blue light upon the darkened ship. The crew stood around restless and terrified.

What in the name of the gods was going on? Now that she stood on deck the eerie song soughed over them upon a chill moisture laden wind. It was almost maddening, speaking of loss and anger and vengeance. A small boat was being released from its place above the pilot housing and carried onto the main deck. Brekke watched in horror as the captain dumped her things into it.

‘What are you doing?” she demanded, but they would not look at her as they prepared the boat for her departure. Brekke, of course, knew the answer as they dropped the dinghy over the side with a splash. The captain gestured for her to take the rope swing down to it and leave his ship for good.

“I don’t understand!” she shouted at him, “Why are you doing this?”

“The Queen of the Sea is a jealous woman. Get off of my ship.”

It was a pitiful answer. Brekke considered her options. She could stand her ground and fight them. No doubt she could destroy one or two of them, but not all of them. And even if she did manage to subdue them, she was alone and they were a very long way from anywhere.

Or she could get on the boat and hope that whatever this strange being was it would go gentle on her. She felt the fear of the sailors growing as she hesitated and saw two of them grasp belaying pins. One way or the other she would be placed on the boat. Brekke gathered what little remained of her dignity and sat on the narrow plank of the swing, grasping the ropes as they lowered her down to the sea and her new home.

The eerie song continued, louder now, drawing toward her as her feet collided with the planks. A wind came up and the Mermaid’s sails bulged with the gust, drawing the great ship away as Brekke stared up at it in anger and fear. Despite that, the sea stayed calm beneath her tiny boat and she drifted, the prow slowly rotating like a compass needle with her at its center. The strange presence that she had felt on board the ship was now with her, coalescing slowly and causing the oarlocks to gleam with lightning. Brekke hugged her cloak to her tiny form.

“Who are you?” she asked, probing with her mind for an answer. It was vast and scattered, like no human mind. Something struck the hull from below and she shrieked involuntarily, her hands trembling as she grasped the edges of the boat. The vanishing bulk of the Mermaid only served to remind her of her frail position. The sea was vast and she was now one miniscule creature cast adrift on a few planks of well crafted wood.

“Please, I’ll do whatever you ask, only speak to me. I don’t understand.”

The boat nodded and trembled as it was struck from below again. Oh gods, she hoped whatever it was did not mean to drown her. Swallowing and feeling nauseous, she clung to the boat as it rose slightly from the water, borne upon the back of an immense creature that carried her along before sinking with a plume of exhaled breath back below the waves. The boat resounded with eerie squeals and clicks as whales gathered around her. The ocean frothed with their rising and falling. The tiny boat was drawn along with them, rocking and pitching as she clung to it in terror and wonder.

Brekke mastered her fear, feeling it but no longer letting it clutter her mind. Her short brown hair broke loose of its bindings and fluttered raggedly in the growing wind. Gazing over the gunwales, she gasped, overwhelmed with awe as she saw them for the first time.

What they were she could never adequately describe. Neither human nor beast, they moved beneath the water, forged of its substance and malleable. Long hair was traced in the foam and currents, delicate and glowing then fading away to trace delicate fins or finely shaped limbs. There were several of them gazing up at her with moonlit eyes, their keen minds fusing into one entity that sang of loneliness and despair and entrapment.

“Find him. Find my beloved. Please.”

But the plea was spoken into her mind, half-coherent and full of longing.

“What are you?” she asked, gazing at them forming and fading beneath the scudding boat, their glassy shapes weaving and porpoising between the gathered pod of whales.

Her question went unanswered. The tolling song faded, replaced by the gasping spume of whales rising and falling around her. Melding once more with the ocean, the presence departed, leaving Brekke to the mercies of the open sea.