Poul Anderson - The Merman's Children

Tauno bit his lip, “Glad she was at first to go undersea with him, but as the years wore on, she came to know in her marrow that she was not of Faerie, Never has such a union failed to wreak harm, on one or on both, I fear I’ve already done you ill,”

“No!” She scrambled back, sat up, and gaped at him, appalled, “Darling, no!” Mastering herself: “Only look about you, See me here in a fine house, well fed, well clad, no longer a piece of sleazy merchandise; and this is your doing at root, yours, Tauno,”

“Hardly mine alone,” He remained stretched out, his gaze on the ceiling, “Besides, you spoke of hopeless hankering—which may, I suppose, imperil your soul-Aye, best I not linger here, much though I’ll miss you in my turn,”

“You will?” she cried, and bent over him. Her hair tumbled down to give its own caress. “I’ve not been bad for you, then?”

“No, Ingeborg,” he said most gently, and looked straight at her. “You’ve bestowed more on me than you will ever know. Therefore I should leave, before I give you a wound that eternity cannot heal.”

“But we have tonight!”

“And tomorrow, yes, and morrows beyond.” He drew her to him.

Niels came home from church grim of appearance. Eyjan, attired like a lady, met him at the door, saw, and quietly led him to a side room where they could talk unheard. “What’s wrong?” she murmured.

“Today Father Ebbe, my priest, asked me why my house guests are never at Mass,” he told her.

“Oh, has he heard about us?”

“How could he not? Servants and neighbors do gossip.” Niels scowled, hooked thumbs in belt, stared at the floor. “I, I explained. . . you’ve secret affairs in train which’d suffer were you recognized. . . and accordingly you go to a chapel elsewhere. He said no more, but his mien became graver than is his wont. No doubt he’s aware I sleep with you, and Ingeborg with Taunoand in Lent, in Lent-though we’ve neither of us confessed it to him. Yet before Easter, we must confess, that we may then take Communion.”

“Will that be dangerous? The two of you are openly unwed.” He glanced up, with a crooked smile. “Such is naught uncommon. He sets us a few Aves for it, since he takes into account the good works we do with our money. But if we tell him we’re again bedmates of you... you halflings... and not because it happened thus when we’d small choice about companions, and were in a worthy cause—but of our unforced will—I fear he’d command us to expel you at once. If we refused. . . aside from our souls, even our safety on earth, excommunication would ruin our chance of helping you.”

“Why, there’s an easy answer,” said Eyjan blithely. “Admit the swiving, but not our nature. Also, Tauno said I can come along to his services—I doubt the images would turn from usif you’ll tell us what to do there.” He shrank from her. “No!” he choked in horror. “You know not what you say!”

She shook her red head impatiently. “Belike not. Little about your Christendom makes any sense to’ me.” Plucking at her gown, she muttered a curse. “Could I but shed this stinking thing and bathe me in the waves—”

“My guilt is deep enough already.” Niels’ voice shuddered.

“To take the Sacrament with an unconfessed sin upon oneselfwhen Satan sees me thus, his fifes lick their chops for me.” Trouble came to Eyjan. She stepped forward and captured his hands in hers. “We can’t let that happen to you, Tauno and I. We’ll make our own way south-start at this very dawn—”

“No.” His words stumbled in their haste. “Forsake you two dearest friends that I have? Never. Stay.”

As if her presence had inspired him, he went on in sudden half-happiness: “See here. I can arrange that we be shriven just before Easter, and you depart just after. Then I don’t think Father Ebbe will make the penance too harsh. He likes to preach about what a man owes his shipmates.”

She groped for comprehension. “Suppose you die before you carry out that rite—or suppose he wants you to renounce us forever, and you don’t really intend to-are you not damned?”

He took a foursquare stance. “Maybe, maybe not. I’ll risk it. And I’ll try to repent later, but never will I regret having kissed you.” His look went over her tall fullness as an exile returned might walk step by step over his home-acre. “Instead I’ll yearn for you, waking and dreaming, in every heartbeat left me; and I; I’ll pray for death and burial at sea, Eyjan; your sea,”

“You mourn too soon.” She laid arms around his neck. “Don’t. We’ve many kisses to give yet, Niels.”

Presently she said, laughing, “Well, dinner’s not for a while, and here is a couch. Yes, let’s grab what comes our way, before the ebb tide bears it out of reach.”

“Good news,” the young man informed Tauno. “At last we’ve Christian names for you twain.”

“But you’ve given us those,” his comrade responded, surprised.

They had ridden from Copenhagen to be alone and because it was a sweet spring day. The common which they were crossing was vivid with new grass; in the distance, leaves made a green mist across the top of a woodlot. Against overarching blue, storks were returning, harbingers of summer, bearers of luck. The breeze was fresh, loud, full of damp odors. Hoofs thudded on drenched soil with almost unbearable softness.

Niels ran fingers through his hair. “You’ll recall those names were the best we could think of on short notice,” he said. “I’ve given out that they’re false, used by you because you’re on confidential business. Now we’re ready to come out into the open”—he grinned-“for a proper disguise is on hand. Best you and I talk rlrst, since you must needs play the man’s part.”

Tauno’s mount shied. He brought the beast under control, but Niels chided him for using the bridle too heavily. “Horsemanship is another art you’d better learn if you’d pass yourself off,” the human warned.

“Say on,” the other grunted.

“Aye. What took this long was, mainly, searching out what’d be possible for you. We want no hazard of somebody who meets you protesting that he knows your district well and has never heard of any such person. Certain documents were advisable too, but easier to arrange for; my amanuensis is a cunning rascal.

“Well, you shall be Herr Carolus Brede, a squire from a far corner of Scania-that’s the Danish territory across the Sound, did you know? Some of it’s thickly wooded and little traveled. Though you’re not rich, you’re well-born. A forefather of yours was a nobleman attending Queen Dagmar of beloved memory, when she came from Bohemia to wed Kind Valdemar the Victorious a hundred years ago. You’ve learned about ties of kinship reaching still further south, into Croatia, and decided to see if this is true and if aught can be made of it. You’ve been secretive lest agents of the Hansa grow alarmed at the chance of trade agreements outflanking them, overland through the Empire, and maybe even try to murder you. Though that chance is not great, as every sensible man will realize, still, it’s enough for my company to take the gamble of providing you a ship and crew. Besides, I trust they can dicker for whatever cargo they bring. My plea in turn ought to get you royal and episcopal letters of recommendation, if only because the Danish lords will be curious to know more bout the Croatian.”

Tauno crowed and shook his head. “Bones of my mother, but you’ve changed,” he exclaimed. “I can’t hear at all, in those elegant words, the plain crewman of Herning. In fact, the torrent of them carries me off.” Niels frowned, “You’ll have to learn how to swim in them, and many more of the same kind, Else you’ll betray yourself, likely to your death-yourself and, and, Eyjan,”