Nancy - The Islands of the Blessed
The Shoney bent down to inspect it. Is this the music that called my daughter from the sea? I expected more.
The Bard impatiently rang it again, and now Jack heard a tinny note, not unlike a rock rolling around in a brass cauldron.
“I’m sure I found the right blacksmith,” protested Thorgil. “It was the only lump with a pattern of scales.”
The old man laid Fair Lamenting on the ground and leaned heavily on his staff as though he were exhausted. “I don’t doubt you, child. It isn’t your fault. It’s simply that the magic of the clapper lay in its art, and now that’s gone. I had hoped there was enough magic left to summon the draugr, but I dared not try until we got here.”
You mean you can’t call back my daughter? demanded the Shoney. I’ve suffered and Shair Shair has suffered for nothing?
“Believe me, I would do anything in my power to save your child. I have vowed to do it. I will do it, but I don’t know how.” The old man tottered to a rock and sat down. “Where do I go first? Return to the village? Do I wait until Shellia emerges of her own accord and starts killing? It will be too late then.”
Jack tipped the bell on its side and removed the clapper. It did have a faint fretwork of scales in one section, but this was battered until it was almost unrecognizable. A memory hovered just out of reach in his mind, something important, but he couldn’t bring it into focus. Each time he tried to capture it, it slipped away like a fish diving into deep water.
Fish. Why that image? But of course the original clapper had looked like a fish, the Salmon of Knowledge that knew the pathways between this world and the next. And then he understood. “Your flute, sir,” Jack said. “The flute of Amergin is the right shape.”
“You’re right,” murmured the Bard. “It was made by the same hand.” The old man quickly found the instrument and attached it to the bell. One chime and everyone knew instantly that this was the real Fair Lamenting. The fin men sank to their knees. Shair Shair collapsed into the Shoney’s arms. Thorgil grabbed Jack as though they were on the deck of a ship in a stormy sea. The chime went on and on, fading slowly and sweetly until it seemed impossible that one note could endure so long. Then it was gone.
Chapter Thirty-six
A LIFE FOR A LIFE
I did not understand my daughter’s longing before, said the Shoney. I want something and do not know what it is. The gold, the jewels, the wealth I have accumulated are as nothing, and my life has been wasted in useless pleasures. It is a cruel thing, this bell, yet fair beyond reckoning.
The Bard rang Fair Lamenting again and waited. The silence grew. Jack listened for the sounds that were always present, even on the darkest night, on land—the crickets and frogs, dogs barking at a passing fox, leaves sighing in the breeze. There was nothing except the rustle of the torches. What a melancholy place Notland was, Jack thought, without the bustle of life. Even the mermaids, and he had heard they could lure sailors with their beautiful singing, were voiceless here. Everything was silent except—
Jack heard a woman sobbing in the distance. It went on and on, as though there could be no end to such sorrow. It came gradually closer, and a foul stench arose. The air turned cold. A darkness among the barrows grew thicker, taller, more terrible, and a mist rose from the ground.
Who calls? said a voice full of death.
Shellia, groaned Shair Shair. Oh, Shellia, what has happened to you?
Deep was my love. Bitter was my fate. I was left to perish and may not rest until life has been given for life.
“Now, that’s something we have to discuss,” said the Bard. “I agree that Severus deserves punishment, but he’s stupid rather than evil. And you haven’t been exactly innocent either. You can’t ask for his life.”
I disagree, the Shoney said. Lure him to the water’s edge and we’ll see what’s what.
“No, no, no!” said the Bard impatiently. “You can’t keep heaping up revenge, or we’ll never see the end of souls asking for justice. Severus doesn’t deserve death.”
Deep was my love. Bitter was my fate. I followed his ship until the waves overcame me. I may not rest until life has been given for life.
“See, that’s what happens with unquiet spirits,” said the Bard. “They get locked into an idea and it’s hard to shake them loose. Shellia, believe me, Severus will pay for what he did to you, but you can’t afford to wait for it. The longer you spend in this world, the more you will be tempted to kill. Soon you will be unable to stop.”
I am owed his death. I will take him in my arms, and together we will swim to the sea where winter never comes.
He’s not worth it, interrupted the Shoney. He’s a dried-up old stick and will make you as miserable in the next life as this one.
Father, the draugr said with a sigh. The voice was no longer cruel and full of jagged rocks.
Shellia, cried Shair Shair. There is a new mirror in your tomb, the finest that has been seen in this land, for your long journey. There is a comb for your beautiful hair.
The draugr turned to her mother, and the darkness shrank until it was no larger than a young woman. I may not go until life has been given for life. Deep was my love. Bitter was my—
“You’re getting into a rut,” the Bard said. “If you do any more killing, you won’t be able to leave this world. You’ll be stuck like a wretched hogboon.”
I have already killed.
“What?” shouted the old man. “Are you an idiot as well as a spoiled, self-centered mermaid? Don’t give me that ‘deep was my love’ garbage. You saw something you wanted and didn’t get it. Well, boo hoo! We don’t always get what we want.”
Jack was shocked, and both the Shoney and Shair Shair looked extremely upset. This had to be one of the Dragon Tongue scoldings that made Northman kings cower in fear. He was afraid that the draugr would revert to her giant, menacing shape, but she did nothing of the kind. If anything, she became smaller.
You said you were going to ring the bell. I waited ever so long, the draugr said in a sulky voice. You shouldn’t promise things if you aren’t going to do them.
“I know. I apologize. Events happened beyond my control,” said the Bard.
The bell did ring and I followed it through the earth. After a while I came out into a sty that smelted worse than a rotting whale. A man was there.
“Mrs. Tanner’s brother,” cried Thorgil. “She must have found her way to his hut.”
I asked him where Severus was, but he wouldn’t answer. He cowered before me. I breathed into his face and went back into the earth.
“Would that… kill him?” faltered Jack, thinking it was no great loss if it had.
“Worse,” the Bard groaned. “Draugr breath contains flying venom. She has infected him with a fatal illness, but it doesn’t end there. Whoever comes in contact with him will get sick too.”
“I hunted for Mrs. Tanner’s brother when I was looking for the bell’s clapper,” said Thorgil. “His house had caught fire in the night and had burned to ashes. No one had seen him since. I think it likely he died before he could spread the disease.”
“Dear Freya, I hope that’s true,” said the Bard.
The sky above showed the faintest glimmer of light. It was no longer dead black, but a deep gray. On land such a change would have meant birdsong and a breeze. Here nothing heralded the coming of dawn. The air was as still and stagnant as before.
“You must enter the tomb before the sun rises, Shellia,” the Bard said gently. “Do not be afraid. Remember the bright seas of your youth and the sound of waves and the birds calling your name. You will find that joy again, but only if you let go of this world.”
We love you, daughter, said the Shoney and Shair Shair. They held out their arms but did not dare touch the darkness their child had become.
No! I won’t go. Why should I? cried the draugr. Deep was my love. Bitter was my fate. I will return to the village and spread such death that it will be talked of for a millennium.
“I command you by root, by stone, by sea to enter that tomb!” roared the Bard, raising his staff. The draugr laughed and began to drift away.
You can’t stop me! she jeered.
The old man snatched up Fair Lamenting and rang it with such force that Shellia was dragged back against her will. “Ha! Got your attention that time. I will stop you,” said the Bard. He rang the bell again, softly. Jack thought it was like the first voice he had ever heard—his mother? His grandmother? The midwife who had taken him into her arms on the night of his birth? Whoever it was, the voice was infinitely gentle and compelling. He couldn’t think of turning away from such love.
I am still owed life for life, the draugr said with a sigh.
“You shall have it.” The Bard walked toward the tomb, carrying Fair Lamenting, and the draugr followed. She was almost visible, no longer a dark stain against the night, but a young woman.
“You can’t go in there!” Jack cried as he realized what was happening.
The old man turned and smiled. “Remember the story of Beowulf, lad. He knew he would die when he fought the dragon. Yet the lives of his people depended on it and he embraced his fate gladly. One old man is a small price to pay to keep plague from our land.”
“A death worthy of Valhalla,” murmured Thorgil.
“Don’t you start with your Northman stupidity,” Jack shouted at her. “The draugr doesn’t deserve mercy, sir. She’s a selfish brat. You said so yourself. I won’t let you go in there.”
The Bard rang Fair Lamenting again. The same gentle, compelling voice held Jack back.
“I won’t let you,” the boy said weakly.
“I’m proud of you, lad. Never forget that, but you cannot go against fate,” the old man said. “Remember your promise, Shoney. These two are allowed to leave Notland.”
I remember, said the Shoney.
“Thorgil, I lay upon you this oath: Save my daughter. I don’t need to ask Jack because he’ll do it anyway.”
“I give my oath,” said the shield maiden, deathly pale.
“Now I must go before dawn breaks in the outer world. Come, Shellia. We have much to do.” The old man rang the bell one last time and disappeared into the depths of the tomb. The young mermaid followed him obediently.
