Chapter 7 of Princess of the Sea

It was midsummer day, high noon, and bright sunlight shone down on the warm wooden docks, the stone city, and the golden hair of a young lady running down the wide brick steps of the library of Sentrynyl, her long red skirt bunched up in one hand, a map bunched up in the other. She jumped off the last step straight into a carriage waiting at the bottom, sliding onto the seat as the footman slammed the door shut and Fred the driver clucked to the horses to start.

Silira, Her Silent Ladyship, as she had come to be known, gazed out the window as the carriage began its longish drive to a place up the river, the same place where one of her sisters had been barked at by a dog. She was going to meet her sisters, as she had often met them in the past two months of Corwin's absence, not only on the canal steps after dark, but on the beach, at the docks, wherever was best and they wouldn't be seen. She had signaled to them from her room with a lantern, using a system they had made up, when she couldn't make it out.

Living above the water had been strange, but wonderful. More wonderful than she had thought, even with Corwin and her tongue gone, with her feet paining her every time she stood up. She had become as much a part of palace life as Henry, watching politics weave their tangled webs, but living her own life, just like at home.

She had learned to ride very well on the leg-horses, as she thought of them, because the ones in the sea had tails, and rode through Sentrynyl without fear of being known. She was a mystery now. Everyone in Sentrynyl knew about her, talked about her on the docks and in the houses and on the streets. The witch's promise had come true. Everyone who saw her called her the loveliest child of earth they had ever seen.

She had not told them a thing about her past. How could she? It seemed like a dream now, and there was also the tongue thing. She was taken for granted in the palace now, at least by Wintress, who was busy leading Eleschi. Henry, she thought, might wonder, but it didn't matter. Even if he asked her point blank where she came from, she would not be able to answer.

She smiled that mysterious smile that had become natural to her, and pushed the window curtains aside to look out at the lovely day. She wished she were on top of Mount Triumph, seeing what the world looked like in this bright golden light, but she had to meet her sisters. At the canal steps last night, they had all been chattering about some important development that could not be discussed there.

Eltress had raised her hand. "Oh! Oh! I know a place! Remember when Nyrie ascended and she swam up the river to that house and got barked at by a little black dog? It's abandoned now. The family that the children belonged to moved to Anglia! We can talk there. I'll get some guards to keep watch and tell us if anyone's coming." Silira had nodded, and then left with a wave when the clock struck eight, as she usually did.

The coach jolted her thoughts to a stop as it stopped at the abandoned mansion. She nearly fell off the seat, then caught herself on the empty opposite seat before her feet could touch the floor and pain her again. She braced herself, then stepped out as the footman opened the door--

PAIN--

Oh, enough. She could take it. But it wasn't getting any better--if anything, worse. Every time she took a step, it now felt as if the knives under her feet were actively stabbing her, as if they hated her for stepping on them all this time. She was having difficulties not hating the witch. It was against her principles, but she could hate what she had done, and she could detest the witch, and did both things with a vengeance. Speaking of vengeance, she almost wanted it, but God would do it far better. She was doing all this for Him. No one else was worth it. Not Corwin. Not even the whole of the sea.

Nyrie remembered her Ascension, several years ago. The sun was at noon, and she, being the boldest of the sisters, swam up a river. She saw green forested hills, wild woods and vineyards surrounding stone houses and castles, and high towers in the distance. Birds had been singing, and the sun was so bright that she had to dive beneath the water to cool her face. In a little bay, with a cliff behind it and a path leading up a nearby hill to a big manor on the hilltop, there had been several smallish children playing in the water with a little black animal, which was a dog, but Nyrie hadn't known it. She had tried to join in their game of Marco Polo, but they had run away screaming. The dog barked at her, and she turned away, swimming back down the river with the current to the sea, which had also been fun.

Silira turned and waved Fred off. By now, he had driven her to many places, and he knew her well enough to know when she was telling him to back off. He drove the carriage some distance away, and she walked up the riverbank, along a thin path, to a small cleft in the cliff.

Vines and flowers grew in the cracks between the rocks, and the moss was so thick that you could have walked over the water on it. It was a special kind of moss, found only in Eleschi and Swardset, that grew on the surface of water. It was very green and very thick, and under its heavy velvet piles, not yet seen by Silira that day, were two of her sisters. Nyrie and Levana swam out from under the moss, glancing down the river, their eyes just above the water's surface, hair slick and dripping.

"Silira!" Levana blurted out. "Your prince is coming back!"

Silira was shocked. He was supposed to be back in a month. But now? Why now? Her amazement showed on her face, and Nyrie sighed and dragged Levana under for a brief conference, in which Nyrie nearly slapped Levana and Levana, if possible, turned even whiter out of regret. They resurfaced.

"His ship was sighted by the patrols a week ago and reported to the palace. Father thought it might be Corwin, and he told us. Eltress had a fit. She really wants you two to get married." Silira blushed, then assumed a tell-me-more expression. Nyrie obliged, folding her arms and leaning on the edge of the velvety moss. Levana hung back, still ashamed of having ruined the surprise. Silira smiled at her, trying to make her understand she wasn't angry. Levana understood, and swam up a little closer.

"Well, he should be back in a few days, if the weather is fair. We think it will be, except maybe for a little fog, and Father said we can make an exception to the rules and turn their rudder a little to keep them on course if they stray. And listen--they heard someone on board, a young man, around your age, they said, talking to an older man, probably the captain. And the younger one said something about wanting to get back to her soon. Her. He specifically mentioned a girl. Don't you see? He misses you!"

Levana reluctantly interjected. "Well, it wasn't necessarily the prince, but how do you know it wasn't? And the ship was definitely his. You remember we watched it leave...but you weren't concentrating on us then, were you?"

Nyrie slapped Levana with her tail underwater. "She was watching Corwin, and rightly so. If the humans find out we exist..."

Silira wondered what would happen if they did. It wouldn't be so bad...would it? The two races would be able to help each other with many things. Besides, if she ever got her tongue back, she would have to tell Corwin who she really was. She knew him too well to think that he would be angry, but she was still wondering how to tell him.

Levana rolled her eyes. "They will eventually. However, the point is to keep Silira from being found out. Remember what Grandmother said, sisters. The humans think our tails are ugly and of disgusting appearance. If Corwin finds out who Silira really is, he might become prejudiced and not realize her true worth. And if that happens, Silira...what was it Grandmother said?"

Silira reached down into the cold stream and lifted a handful of white foam, then let it drop on the surface and disappear. Her sisters both understood. "If she is not human, then she does not marry him. And if she does not marry him and dies unmarried to a man, she will cease to exist. Like every other of our kind, she will float to the surface and turn into foam after three hundred years."

Silira would have mentioned the fact that the witch had also said, "Also, if the prince marries another, you will die the following morning..."

Nyrie broke the silence. "All we have to do is keep him from finding out--an easy task, when you consider that Silira cannot speak. And we will keep his ship safe, even if we have to ground it on Kelp Mountain."

Levana nodded. "Silira, prepare for his return in three days. He will arrive at sunset."

As Silira went back to the Golden Palace, she was thinking about what to do over the weekend. As she ran into the palace, tossing her hat to a maid, she was deciding what to wear. Not that it would matter to him. He didn't notice clothes any more than his brother did.

In her small apartment, which the maids now cleaned as boredly as they cleaned Henry's, she rifled through her large closet. She would have muttered to herself if she could speak, "Dark green riding dress, no, definitely not the white silk, maybe the red velvet I'm wearing now, no, not festive enough, something purple, no, not the weird orange one, YES!"

She took out a dress, hung it in her bedroom, and ran to the window. Silira looked down on the steps leading down to the canal. Yes, she would be waiting there on the steps when he came, and her sisters would be too, just like the day he left, only this time...maybe he might do more than take her hand. Or maybe not...or maybe he would. She was, after all, supposed to be the loveliest child of earth ever seen. However, she was no child of earth. A pang of annoyance went through her. If he loved the sea so much, a daughter of the sea, even if she did have a tail, should not be disgusting to him.

After she had had a late lunch, with Henry chattering about some weird fish he'd seen in the harbor and her knowing what kind it was immediately, a courier came riding up the steps, his customarily red cloak billowing behind him in the wind. He was immediately shooed away by Marge and Tina for fear his horse might poo on the steps. After the horse was in the stables and he had had a drink and something to eat, he came striding into the great throne room, with only one of the three thrones occupied by the solitary Queen Wintress, and bowed.

"Your Majesty, the prince is returning early from Astrakhan. He will be twenty when he returns, and well able to marry any damsel who is a fit match."

"Thank you." Wintress remained impassive. "The usual measures to find a fit companion will be taken. You may go. Stay the night in the couriers' quarters, if you wish."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." The courier bowed again and turned to go.

Wintress took a breath. "Wait!"

The man turned. "Yes, Your Majesty?" He had an odd accent, she noted. He must be from Pretannica in the north. These couriers came from all over the world, bringing news of the different kingdoms to the monarchy in their different palaces and castles. They also worked for the aristocracy, if paid well enough. This one had come from some port town, probably, where Corwin's ship, the Firedrake, had been sighted, or perhaps put in for supplies.

"You sound Rhiannic. Do you know if Princess Selena of Rhiannon is attached to any man?"

The northern courier laughed. "Not at the hip, Your Majesty. More than that, I don't know. She's not engaged or married, and I've not heard of any man she favors. Considering her for your brother, Your Majesty?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Possibly. Ten days, you say?"

"No, but it's his birthday in ten days, isn't it, Your Majesty? And if it is, then you can invite some eligible princesses to his birthday dinner or whatever you're doing for him. However, he should be here in a few days, much less than a week, Your Majesty. And the dinner or whatever doesn't have to be on his birthday."

"Thank you. You are dismissed." The queen slid off the throne as soon as he was gone and ran to the master of ceremonies. "Sir!"

The master of ceremonies, a skinny older man with gray hair, hurriedly set down his flagon of ale and faced Wintress. "Your Majesty! I, ah, was not--"

She quickly waved him silent. "Never mind, Montayne. My son will be ready for some sort of celebration of his twentieth birthday when he arrives in a few days. Make sure we are as well. A dinner party, not too fancy. I don't want Corwin to be embarrassed, but he does need a good welcome home. You've known him since he was born. Can you do it?"

The old man smiled. "Is that a trick question? Who else will be there, Your Majesty?"

She considered for a few seconds. "Some nobility from here, and perhaps a few princesses from other lands as well."

An crafty look came into the man's eyes. "And Lady Silent?"

Wintress paused, confused. "But of course. It would be strange if she wasn't. Now, what--"

The gray-haired man adjusted his black jacket. "I beg your royal pardon, Your Majesty, but don't you think Lady Silent would be a good match for the prince?"

She stopped, astonished. "Am I not the queen? Did you just interrupt me?" She stormed out of the office, calling over her shoulder, "And make sure we're ready by his birthday."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The man sounded subdued. After she had gone, he turned back to a letter on his desk, a letter that he had hastily set down when the queen came in.