Tale 2b: Of Maidens

    

                The mariner was quite alive. Here he found himself aboard a small rowboat, filled with burly arms and unkempt beards. It must have been very welcoming, for the mariner had not seen men so close to him for many days. The sailors remained uneasy and kept watch for the creature to emerge, but before long the waves had diminished, and no break in the surface ever appeared. At length each man loosened his grip of his weapon and looked to the care of their new friend. Even now jovial thanks continued to pour out from the mouth of the mariner. They eyed him in disbelief and demanded to know how he found himself in such a dire state.

                “Never’ve I see that before!” one man laughed as he rowed. The mariner noticed a long scar on his cheek. “Har! Ye come out here to take on the king-o-eels, that’s what ye did!”

                “We would ‘ave grabbed ye sooner, but ye was doing a’right yeself!” another man laughed.

                “Yer a fool, man, whoever ye are,” the closest man to him muttered. His hair was well trimmed for a sailor. His dirty coat reflected the sunlight with his elegant buttons. “They call me Cap’n around here. At least they do if they know what’s good for ‘em.” He shot out his strong hand in welcome. The mariner shook it gladly. “Now what be yer life story old man?” Captain asked.

                The strength in the mariner’s chest cowered at the thought of telling a long story. He shook his long, scraggily head and gazed upon the waves in thought. “Just looking for a beautiful maiden,” he sighed in exhaustion.

                 A long chain of laughter filled the rowboat. “That be every man’s quest!” they agreed heartily and patted him on the shoulder in jest. “Oh ye’ll like our quest for sure then!” another yelled from the back of the boat.

                “No, no,” the mariner muttered. “I am looking for just one particular maiden. I saw her long ago when I was young,” his eyes became distant once more. “I would never forget the joy in her eyes as she looked upon me.”

                “Ye pardon me,” the scarred man broke in. “but this maiden prolly ain’t a maiden no more if ye saw her when ye was a lad.” He choked back a laugh.

                “A maiden from heaven,” the mariner spoke softly, and every man there knew by the gleam of his eye that he had seen something wonderful.

                “Of legend,” one man sniffed.

                “Then why did ye come aboard my ship, Higgins?” Captain turned around fiercely towards the sniffing man. “If anything this mariner be proof that what we seek be true!” He turned back to the mariner and lowered his voice. “Ye say yer looking for a maiden from heaven. I say we be looking for the city of maidens. Perhaps yer beauty be among them!” he seemed to grow more passionate with every word, “‘It be legend’ some say to me, but I heard stories of it. Some men see it, but be too fearful to step upon it; these men, they see a grand isle filled with the most beautiful maidens of the sea. Them maidens only want the bravest of men, ye see? And none who step on the isle ever return, it be too wonderful to leave!”

                “Or too deadly,” the same man sniffed again.

                “Curse ye Higgins I’ll have ye overboard with another word!” Captain threatened. He turned back to the mariner, only to find the old man had given himself to sleep. “I tell ye, this man will take us there,” Captain muttered, staring at the mariner. “Keep rowin’. We’re almost to the ship.”

                In a short time (but you would not think it short had you been rowing), the boat came alongside its parent vessel. Each man hoisted himself aboard, and welcomed the old mariner as a fellow crewmember. Uncertain as he was, the crew recognized him as a guide. Whenever asked the location of the maiden-isle he always answered: “Go where the sea is bluest, for that is the maiden’s gown.” The crew had their proof, and the mariner had his ship.

The mariner would not know it, but the next year was to be spent in the company of these lovesick men. Their strength matched the waves, and passion battled their doubts. Their yearning seemed the same as the mariner’s in every resolve, and for a day, he almost became convinced that his beloved maiden might be among the sea-women of that fanciful isle. Even so, the mariner could not shake the sense that his longing was in no way like the yearning of his companions. The wish for a woman is a wonderful thing, he thought to himself, but never have I seen such longing seem like starved hunger.  But their loyalty to one another could never be denied, and their songs filled the mariner with such contentment that he regretted not spending more time laughing with life and sharing drinks with friends.

Every night Captain would inspect the crew quarters. “Good work boys,” he would say, “Ye won’t be sleeping alone for long.” Yet that wonderful island did not appear.

When they had the opportunity, they delivered valuable goods and ferried enough passengers in order to pay for their journey. They followed various maps and rumors. Some would say the city was under the water while others would point them to various islands. There was nothing to be found.

“Good work boys. Ye won’t be sleeping alone for long.”

The vessel endured trials from both men and nature with determination. There were pirates to deal with, in which the mariner found himself to be better swordsman than he thought. A nasty mutiny brought him to take a stand for Captain against a rather crooked group of crewmembers. There was plenty of lightning to avoid and torrents of rain to soak in. A violent hurricane set loose a brief episode of madness upon Captain, and the mariner became amazed at what he himself could eat when starved.

“Good work boys. Ye won’t be sleeping alone for long.”

Throughout these ordeals the mariner did not protest. He always found hope to find his maiden, but still could not begin to decide where she could dwell. He never left the crew, for he could not think that any ship explored the waters as thoroughly as his. The months drifted by, and Captain became bolder in rationing provisions and venturing beyond points of no return. “There’s no turning back now boys,” he shouted one fanatical day. “We go till we either starve or drown,” he whispered to the trusted mariner.

Perhaps it was by chance. Perhaps the sea had willed it. Perhaps the sea-maidens truly revealed their isle only to the boldest and most determined pursuer. Whatever the reason, the mariner’s vessel had ventured farther beyond all hopes of returning to port alive, but just as the men swallowed their last trace of ration, a wondrous isle appeared in the distance.

There was a great deal of preparation as no one could be certain if the island contained their beloved maidens. The land was a rich green, edged with towering trees and colorful plants. Splendid palaces came into view that glimmered with pale pinks and silvery hues. Any land would have been a relief to find at such a grim moment; however each crewman traded relief for wonder at the sight of such a splendid isle. One keen-eyed sailor pointed out breathlessly, “Ay! There be maidens standin’ along the cliffs!” he gasped and fell back, “They’re…..beautiful!” No one but the mariner wasted time in rushing to the bow to catch the feeling of dreams becoming reality. As they neared, cheers erupted from all boards of the ship as the men dashed about to set foot upon the maiden-filled shores.

Captain chuckled and set his hand upon the mariner’s shoulder. “She’ll be here a’right!” he laughed as he noticed the hope in his old companion’s eyes, “If not, ye’ll find one better to suit ye.”

“Do not speak of such things!” the mariner warned, “I feel you insult the sea itself with your words.”

Of course the great vessel was left unmanned. No one could be convinced upon the prospect of remaining on such a dirty thing when the beauty of the heavens lay before their eyes. All boats were launched, filled with the whoops and laughter of men. To their surprise, the isle’s beach did not seem made of sand but of the tiniest specks of quartz. The sunlight filled the crystals with rose-colored tones and the men all felt unworthy to step upon such a wonderful land. To their astonishment, a great number of wondrous maidens covered in brilliant gowns of the palest blue and liveliest greens strolled nobly to their boats. Their crystal-littered hair fell to their waists in intricate curls and their elegant fingers took hold of many a crewmate’s hand to bring him to land.

The mariner alone helped himself down from the boat, unconcerned about his allotted maiden, and followed the group inland.

After the sea became lost behind the high crags, a designated maiden met them at the bottom a wooded ravine. “Welcome weary men,” her voice flowed over each man’s parched cheeks soothingly. “Long has it been since we have been blessed with the sight of men upon our isle. You must not think us prideful, but we have hidden ourselves from you for a great time. We had to be sure your heart belonged to us, even to the point of death.” Her arms trembled with excitement, “And you have finally arrived! And no joy can be fit to contain us now! Come to the palace, where our handmaidens will give you to our noble ladies.”

“If these be only handmaidens,” a sailor muttered in disbelief, “then I shall drop dead in the sight of their betters!” The maidens about him giggled. Every man followed in a dreamlike trance, stopping here to shake their heads in wonder, pausing there to marvel upon the grand architecture of the crimson palaces. Their eyes commanded their feet, for when a maiden had gone too far, the men knew they should follow faster to keep a better look upon her perfect figure. The halls were lined with red tapestries that seemed to fill every sailor with a renewed passion.

“You must be taken to the changing room,” the chosen maiden fussed. “You cannot be seen in such attire!” All women laughed and the sailors smiled stupidly as they filed into the chamber to find a suitable change. The handmaidens all hurriedly fashioned each sailor as they saw fit. Every man was in need of a bath, and no one but our mariner objected to a washing.

The mariner carelessly selected whatever breeches that fit and wrapped himself in a matching vest and coat. His mind was unsettled during the entire walk. He had not admired the shimmering palace or let his eyes sway with the hips of his closest maiden. His eyes were fixed to the ground in gloom, for he somehow sensed that his enchanting maiden was not to be found upon the island. No, she will not be here. It seems so very wrong that she would, he convinced himself sadly. He could not feel certain, but it seemed to him that the memory of his lady’s beauty overshadowed that of any wondrous sea-maiden. It was not physical beauty that he reflected on. Rather it seemed as though her beauty held a maturity and invaluable worth that distinguished woman from girl, wisdom from foolishness, love from lust. At that moment the mariner could only feel embarrassment and ashamedly childish at the thought of his beloved maiden perceiving him on such an island and in such company.

There was no escape. The handmaidens each found a man’s arm and escorted him along a number of stairs and passageways to what seemed to be the main hall. There the great doors swung wide and a great number of the most divine array of women gleamed before the men’s eyes in such a beauty that no sailor was without need of their stable handmaiden. Only the mariner stood unaided, his mind elsewhere.

The group was led past the lovely sight of women. Each maiden’s eyes seemed to be the very source of color itself. For some, dark greens spread from the crystals of their hair to the wells of their eyes and reached down to entwine its luster about the sashes that hung from their slender waists. Others burned with fiery reds that licked the silks of their gowns and rose in scattered sparks of rubies that blazed upon their cheeks. Still others dripped droplets of sapphires that became lost in a sea of blues that crashed upon the perfect shores of their necks and flowed upon their breasts as waters flooding over high hills. Their loveliness became overwhelming, but soon the line of maidens ended, and the men stopped with their escorts.

 Before them a silver throne lay upon a bed of golden stairs. The mariner thought it rose higher than any chair was good for, and it did not hold his gaze for long. The object of every man’s eyes rested upon the woman seated upon it. Voids of black covered her bosom in a velvet cloth as dark tinges of blue rained down over her seated legs. The fringes of her dress shone with the splashing whites of the foam of the sea. Her long tresses seemed to add a share to her gown as various strands lined with the rarest pearls wrapped themselves around her arms and waist. Her cheeks reflected the blues of her dress as though she were staring into sunlit waters. Her lips held a welcoming smile as she stood up.

“Oh welcome my dear ones!” her words came slow and became a sweet fragrance to her listeners. “There has been trouble for you all your long journey, but no more. You will rest here with us until the end of days and never know anything of fears or troubles.” She placed her toes upon each step and descended. “The sea no longer calls you. From henceforth, your heart listens for the call of my maidens. The heavens have birthed us. The sea has housed us. And it is men who shall love us.” Many of the colorful maidens giggled in response. The high mistress did not notice but passed each wondering face of her hearers. “This is a privilege I bestow to you. You will accept it. You cannot refuse it!” her voice became briefly shrill. Only the mariner seemed to jump in surprise. To his dismay, the mistress caught his eye. She smiled in a terrible manner.   

“And which man shall love me?” she pouted softly to herself as she neared the mariner. “Surely there has been one man who has not given his heart to my maidens?” She asked and towered before the old mariner in amusement. “You have a heart that has not been given,” she whispered to him with an eager voice. “Perhaps you will know my love.” All the men gazed upon the mariner in disbelief.

Captain nudged the mariner eagerly, “She be the one, mariner!” he whispered, “Yer blue maiden!”

The blue mistress clapped her hands. “Maidens! Go and take your wonderful man! Love him evermore. Man! Take your magnificent maiden! Love her without question!” She turned her smooth neck in the direction of the mariner. “Bring him with me,” she smiled and disappeared into a nearby chamber.

 

 

 

Author's Note

Just would like to know if you found it enjoyable...