The Mermaid in the Boathouse

Desk leg clasped in my hand, I dashed across the room, threw open the door and, ignoring the stairs, leapt off the landing to the ground below. I landed heavily, rolled. A large hand appeared from inside, gripped the door frame. His head emerged in the opening, the lance visible beside him as he tried to balance himself on his tail for the throw.

I lashed out with my club, took him on the forehead. He reeled, slumped and I hit him again, with both hands this time. His low moan was cut off with my third blow. A fourth ended the struggle, permanently.

I looked inside, saw the remaining merman had found his knife. I picked up the fallen lance, drove it into his chest. His muffled cry was cut off as he landed in the water. His body quivered once, then was still.

I sagged, shivered, felt like retching. I wasn't overly proud of myself.

Taking the spear, I went up the stairs again. Having heard only shouts and the noise of battle, Neesa was terror-stricken. When she saw me, she stretched out her arms. I took her into mine and she was no longer strange, no longer different, now just a woman in fear and desperately needing comfort. We clung to each other in the darkness, pulses slowly returning to normal.

"Are they...?"

"You're safe," I said, running my hand through her hair.

"Are they...?" she repeated.

"Dead?" I paused for a moment. "Yes. All three. Who were they?"

"Enroth," she whispered, "and his clanbrothers. My suitor, would-be fiancé."

"Enroth would be the tall one?"

"Yes," she confirmed, "the long one."

She looked at the lance, blood still fresh on it. "That is his war spear," she whispered.

She paused. "You are sure...?"

"Yes," I confirmed, gently as I could. "Yes, he's dead."

Her arms pulled me into her. "Good," she whispered. "Thank you!"

We clung to each other on that saggy bed for a time, then she shifted uncomfortably.

"How can you sleep on this?"

"I could take you down, but..."

"Enroth is gone, you say. The others will not willingly swim in a dead man's wake."

"Then wait a bit," I said. "I'll be back."

I cautiously descended the moonlit stairs, harpoon in hand. Enroth lay where I had left him, as did the two inside. I thought for a moment, then dragged them one by one out into the surf. I would waste no time digging graves for such. The tide was flowing out and the sea could take its own.

Two minutes later, I was, arms full of finned beauty, wading into the surf up-current from where I had left the others.

She kissed my cheek happily — another universal gesture — then twisted in my arms and slid with a soft cry into the foaming water.

+

Fishermen get few holidays; the days that followed were my first free of heavy physical labour in years. To be sure, the looming uncertainty of Hanisch returning was always there, but if it came to the worst, I could simply claim that she had escaped. The missing boards across the slips? Sorry, I'd taken them out after she'd fled - the place would be a nice spot to settle in, no? Council would be furious, but what could they do?

Yet Neesa was good for a man's soul. We spent hours lying near the water's edge. just talking, learning about each other like any normal couple. She laughed at some of the foolish things Phenos had taught me, corrected my clumsy grammar, accepted without doubt my stories of life on land. Combing her hair became a ritual, something to look forward to. We learned of each other's food and customs. I moved the mattress downstairs, laid it on the cribwork by the first slip where she slept and, after a brief kiss, we went to sleep holding hands. In the mornings, we would dine on the Council's fruit and bread and tea; later meals were provided by Neesa and the sea. She tended to sleep late; as a man who spend half his life getting to and from the shoals and fishing banks, early hours were my norm.

One morning, she emerged from the boathouse to see me with a razor.

"What are you doing?"

"Shaving."

I tilted my head, felt the thin blade scrape over my throat.

" ♪♩ "  The lady has wondered at the man's bare face.

Males of her species lacked beards. It had been a casual courtesy on my part to shave each morning so as to not offend.

I wiped off my chin with a bit of towel. My eyes turned to hers as she rubbed slim fingers over my cheek.

"The lady approves," she said.

I took out a small steel mirror, inspected the job. Intrigued, she leaned in to see. Her hair brushed my ear, tickling. I laughed for a second before she joined me. Her hand came up to take my hand, turning it and the mirror it held towards her.

The awe on her face was clear. I let her take it from me.

"Name of this?" she whispered.

"It is a mirror," I said. "Do the People not have such?"

"Puddles, yes. This, no."

She turned her head back and forth, appraising, utterly feminine in her curiosity. Without moving, she wrapped her arm around my head, pulled us together, cheek to cheek, examined our joint image. Her face felt warm and I found myself wishing we could stay that way for ever. I looked at us in the mirror - green eyes and brown, noses nubbin and hawkbill, fine, fine red-gold hairs drifting over coarse brown curls. I wondered if she liked what she saw.

Our eyes met in the mirror. She blushed, pushed herself away, dropped the mirror in my lap.

"The lady begs pardon of the man," she said, looking down.

"The lady need never ask pardon for pleasing the man," I replied and echoed the smile on her face. She leaned towards me, kissed my cheek gently. I would have given anything to have known what she was thinking.

.

We swam a lot - how not? Neesa expressed a modest admiration for how well I could swim -- for a human, of course. She could very literally swim rings around me, appearing from time to time to bless me with that wondrous, sweet smile.

Then she taught me about Song.

One afternoon, she surfaced near a large flat rock just offshore, climbed gracefully up onto it. She arranged her tail, ran her hands over her head, combing seawater from her hair. Sunlight glistened off the falling drops, glowed on the skin of shoulder and bosom. She looked at me, tilted her head, then lifted her head and Sang.

I had some minor musical talent. One made one's own entertainment on Cordelia and many people played an instrument or sang, solo or in groups. But they only sang; Neesa... Sang.

She Sang of happiness and delight, of challenges met and surpassed, of love and joy, of pride and fulfillment. Her voice, clear and pure, carried the soul of the world with it. I understood now the warnings about siren songs leading ships to their doom.

She paused, looked at me kindly and started again.

Her eyes brightened as I swam to the rock and pulled myself up to rest beside her. How long it lasted I cannot remember. When she stopped, I sat, almost dumbly, mourning its end.

"Did you like that?" she asked softly. I could only nod.

She looked down, below my waist, giggled. I hadn't worn clothes since the night of the fight and my eyes now followed hers to my sex, so exposed compared to her own.

She laughed openly now, slid into the water like a seal. I followed her onto shore, where she'd crawled up under a shady tree.

"The man found the lady's singing beautiful," I said as I sat beside her.

"It was a very ordinary singing for those of the lady's sort," she said seriously.

"Nay, lady," I insisted, "it was beautiful - as beautiful as the singer."

To my surprise, she blushed, turned her head out to sea.

"Has no one ever spoken such things to the lady before?" I asked softly.

Her head turned back to me.

"Does the man now speak as a person, as a friend or...?"

I felt myself falling into those eyes, then thought of a way to express it.

"The man speaks as a lover of truth," I said.

Her face turned almost serious for a second as she digested that. I realized that compliments were perhaps rare to a people for whom truth was all.

Then she smiled, pushed me down on my back, lay down beside me with her head on my shoulder.

"Do friends do this?" she whispered.

"Close friends, yes."

"Might we be 'close friends', Misha?"

I hardly knew how to answer that. I decided a retreat into polite formality might reduce the chance of embarrassment for one or both of us.

"The man would be honoured to be so considered, but..."

Her hand came up, covered my mouth and she rolled, propped herself on one elbow to look down at me.

"Enough, Misha. No more formality. Please."

Then she lowered her mouth to mine, kissed me gently, lifted herself back up.

I reached up, stroked the side of her head.

"What would you have us be, Neesa?"

She smiled, almost shyly.

"At least 'friends', Misha. But, I think, we are already more than that."

A slender finger reached out, stroked my jaw. She giggled.

"What?"

"The hairs. They were gone this morning, but they are back."

"'Whiskers', Neesa. They grow all the time, like that lovely hair on your head."

"Whis-kerrs."

"Mmm-hmm."

"So strange."

My reply was cut off as she again lowered her lips to mine. Her tongue tip slipped along my lips and I opened mine, touched her tongue with mine, moved between lips and teeth.

I felt a stiffening in my groin, knew that embarrassment would be inevitable if she turned her head, moved her hand.

Her head pressed down harder and her tongue dove deeper into my mouth, swept around my gums, under my tongue. Her hand slid over my chest, played with my chest hair.

She pulled back, giggled slightly. "So strange, you humans."

She leaned in again and I felt like my heart would break through my ribs.

I moved my hand, felt for her hips, rested on rows of scales. Unsure now, I squeezed her bottom. Scales aside, it felt firm yet soft, delightful. I squeezed again and felt her squirm slightly.

"Neesa?" I whispered.

"Be still, Misha. No more questions. The answer to all of them is Yes."

I lifted my arm, pulled her, felt her solid weight come down on me. I ran my hand over her scaled bum, up to soft skin, hugged her waist, roamed her back and slid down to find her breast. It filled my hand, soft and warm.

I could sense her breathing speed up, felt her roll over to her back, pulling me with her. Her breast felt perfect to me, the perfect size, perfect firmness. I squeezed it gently and heard her moan, looked up to see her eyes closed in pleasure.

My thumb and finger found her nipple, hard now, swollen with desire. I pulled on it, stretching it, let it go and shifted to lie half on top of her.

Her eyes opened again, her smile luminous. Her voice was soft thunder, a rolling, sobbing "Mee-shaa!"

I bent, found her breast with my mouth, took her bud between my lips, swept my tongue over its rigid tip. One of her hands pulled my head into her, the other squirmed between us, found my hardness, squeezed its head and I moaned myself.

I ran my tongue around and around her nipple, shifted, lapped the depths of her cleavage. I found her navel with an exploring finger, moved past her stomach.

Her genital scales had withdrawn, exposing soft, slick labia. I slid my fingers along them, felt her shiver under my touch, probed further, found her pearl.

Moaning softly, she moved her hand down my length, found my balls, pulled them gently before rising to seize my shaft. Her fingers dragged my skin back and forth, teasing, delighting me, lifting me further and further.

Slowly, slowly, I slid the full length of my finger over her button as my fingertip sought, found her entrance. She gasped as I probed, circled, withdrew.

"Mee-shaa!" Her voice became higher, her breath rattled in gasps as she gulped for air. Her hands on my rod sped up, faster, faster, almost sending me over the edge, then she stopped and pulled me towards her.

"Now, Misha! Now!"

I lifted myself, slid sideways, held myself above her. Her hand aimed me, pulled me down and I was sinking into the warmest, softest wetness, endless and welcoming. She lacked legs to spread and I spread mine instead, coming to rest fully seated inside her with a knee on either side of her hips.

I lifted my head, looked down at her face. Those wonderful green kitty eyes were looking up at me.

"So strange," she whispered, "but so good. So very good!"

I began to lift my hips, draw myself out of her depths. Her arms caught my bum, held me in place.

"Stop," she whispered. "Let me show you."

Inside her, I felt her muscles clench on me, holding me firmly, then, amazingly, begin to ripple, down and down, drawing me in, goading me, raising my arousal still more.

I pulled back through her slick folds, dropped again. Again, she seized me inside, muscular ripples running up and down my shaft.

And again.

Again, over and over and a orb of fiery pleasure built within my balls, grew and burst in every direction, filling me with incandescent pleasure. I groaned, lifted my hips, dropped heavily onto her and her cry filled the skies, a Song of ecstasy not heard by humans since Eden shut its gates. Her notes pushed me further into my orgasm and I collapsed totally onto her, feeling her shiver and quake beneath me.

I lay there, feeling soft hands sweep my back and head.

I rolled to one side, kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips before sliding into the kindest sleep I could remember.

+

I'd been five days on the island when I saw Hanisch's schooner heading around the point. I rather expected more people, but the vessel carried only the boatmaster and his crew. Without lowering the plank, he used a boat hook to pass me a bundle of further provisions, a letter protruding from under the wrappings.

Letters were rare at the time. Yes, many people could read and write, but almost all business was conducted verbally. I looked up at him in surprise.

"I've not read it," he said flatly, adding, "I'm no reader."

He looked past me, at the boathouse, turned his gaze back to me. "The Council directed me to give it to you personally. I now have."

"Is there no further word, Hanisch?"

"Just the letter."

With that, he turned to his mate and let the wind take the boat away.

Without watching further, I thumbed it open. The handwriting was crabbed and uneven, but that was hardly unusual, even for Council matters.

To Michael Samov, Keeper. You are directed to turn over that Councel property in your possession to a representative soon to arrive your location. Payment has been securred. Ensure creature is in good cndition.

It was unsigned.

I found the note cryptic. Then it struck me. Words like 'keeper', 'property' and 'creature' - this was a notification of sale! I felt my face turn red, cursed softly.

+

The 'representative' arrived two days later in a patched-sail cutter, a withered, sly-looking creature in clothes too good for the sea. There was a hulking second man with him, a sailor by his dress. I recognized neither of them.

"I've come for the fish," he cried as I caught the mooring line for his craft. "You ain't lost her yet, I hope."

His tone and reedy voice grated on me, but I looked him in the eye, forced a grin.

"She's in there." My thumb pointed to the boathouse.

"But you've left the bloody slips open!" he shouted.

"She's tethered well enough," I said calmly.

He nodded, turned to his companion.

"Fetch her along there, Tyson."

The big man lumbered off, his master following. I strolled beside the slaver, as if making casual conversation.

"Be glad to get her off my hands," I said. "Where's she sold to?"

"Off-world," he cackled. "Some zoo-owning jonnie with more money than common sense."

"Ah." I kept my voice flat.

We neared the building. Tyson bent his head to enter, stopped and fell back, the tip of Enroth's lance protruding from the nape of his neck.

The little man wheeled to run. His face fell when he saw my belt knife at his belly. His hands went up and, quite carefully, I kicked him in the groin. Writhing, he fell to the ground.

"Neesa!" I called, "It's over. Are you safe?"

"♩ "   I'm fine!

My heart started beating again. I'd had to be on the dock and that meant Neesa would have to handle whatever came her way. I had worried, fretted. She'd won the argument by hefting Enroth's spear and throwing it, leaving its point half-way through a tree trunk ten paces away.

"Be not worried, Misha," she'd smiled. "All my people know of the hunting."

.

Two kisses and a solid hug later, I'd tied the man's hands behind him and had dragged his late companion into the surf.

A look through the cutter disclosed a small duffle of slaver kit -- chains and manacles. A whip.

Seeing that, thinking of him using it on my fair 'maid...

I stalked down the plank towards him, my knife in my hand of its own volition and it was only Neesa's insistent voice that stopped me.

Neesa swam out of the boathouse and crept up the beach to join me while I dragged the slaver to under a tree near the shore. I stuck the tip of my knife into a root in front of him.

"You and I, little man, are going to have a talk."

His bulging eyes were fixed on the blade as it wobbled slightly.

+

I left the slaver fastened to his tree while Nessa and I discussed plans. It took time for us to agree - and more courage than I thought I'd had. The impulse to flee, to try and find some spot nobody had ever heard of, was almost overwhelming.

Neesa had more pluck, more faith, more foresight. She flatly refused exile, with or without me, pointing out that this would cetainly happen again if we failed to act.

Reluctantly, I had agreed.

With that most feminine mix of romance and pragmatism, Neesa had arranged a small meal by the beach. I was surprised to see bread, fruit and cheese from the Council's hamper. She must have crawled to the hamper while I was busy with the slaver.

I found her sitting, waiting for me with the patience of Eve. I sat beside her, still very troubled. I cannot remember what we ate that day and suppose I was silent as we ate it. Eventually, she broke my silence.

"Misha," she sang softly. Her thumb pulled over my forehead, and again, wiping at the furrows of worry and anger. She smiled gently, leaned in to kiss my cheek.

"Misha, my love," she started and my heart near flew out of my chest at that word on her lips. "I have never known so much happiness in all my life. Were it to end tomorrow, I should still account myself blessed among the Peoples, having had more joy in these few days than any other woman in her entire life."

She leaned in, kissed me again, spoke.

"So, tonight, my darling man, my strange, silly creature that 'shaves' his face, has the daring to wander away from Mother Waters, the one who fills my heart with love and passion and hope.

"Misha, my love, be with only me   tonight! I will try to forget Enroth and the circle of fins and what endless tides may send me, but please, try you for a short while to forget that greedy Council and that filth chained to the tree and us having to leave this place of happiness."

She looked up at me, a small tear in her eye.

"Tonight, Misha, may we put those things from us, let them sink to the Kraken's own deep? Tonight, may the only ones in our seas be just Neesa and... her lover?"

I smiled, closed my eyes for a second as I nodded. Opening them, drifting into those loving, gentle eyes, I replied.

"♬ " The lady has the right of it. The man regrets his foolish mood in front of the lady... and his love.

I selected a piece of fruit and handed it to her by way of apology. Smiling graciously, she took it, sniffed and bit into it. And again, a bigger bite with those perfect white teeth. I watched in fascination as the juice ran over her chin, dripped onto her chest, flowed over one breast.