“Wait, I’m the elder Mermaid here – I won’t allow it!”
Her hands thrown on her hips, Diedrika raised her left eyebrow high in the air and shot Penelope her sternest pout.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” Penelope threw her hands on her hips as well, but she really needed to work on that pout. “The time has come for my common sense to overrule my sense of adventure.”
Diedrika held out her arms from her sides, open palms up. A blue glow emanated from each. First came the hum. Then came the scratching sound of a blade slowly scraping stone ––
“Okay, okay, but why?” Penelope pleaded. “Why do this?”
The glow faded from Diedrika’s palms and she dropped her arms back down. The only sounds now were the ebb and flow of the waves and a few squawking birds nearby.
“Because until I do, Mermaids do not rule the ocean,” she pointed at the sunlit sea, “they do.”
“But to tempt fate in such a way, Princess,” Penelope said sadly as she played with the folds of her light blue stola, “you could be killed.”
“Or,” Diedrika drawled, “I could be wildly successful.” She pointed to the cleft on the limestone cliff where she had suggested Penelope perch herself. “Either way, no matter what happens, you’ll have something to scribe about and a great view of it.”
Penelope pulled out her walking sticks, pushed them under her arms, and began the short trek to this cleft. As Diedrika watched, the terror of what she was about to do began to seep into her. Maybe this came from the warm air, the sand beneath her tail, or somewhere else, she did not know; she spun around to face the sea, “And I don’t care,” she growled through gritted teeth. Diedrika then ran her hands along the molded bronze that hugged her silk seafoam green corset. This thin layer of bronze covering her torso was really more for show than anything else. If they really wanted to kill her, no breastplate, no matter how thick, would save her.
Diedrika waded out from shore, swam underwater for a bit, and surfaced. She peeked up at Penelope for a moment, and then swam toward the pod; unaware of her gamble or just pretending to be, the whales continued to frolic and splash about. It would be sunset soon – that Diedrika chose this time was in no way an accident. After years of watching them, Orcas appeared more relaxed and playful when the sun was close to setting.
Although almost seventeen, Diedrika shook like a terrified child as she waded closer to the pod. She kept her head above the surface and moved slowly as not to agitate the seemingly contented whales.
Including the matriarch, now nowhere in view – Diedrika was sure she had seen her when first entering the sea – eight Orcas made up this pod. The matriarch was one of the larger whales, but certainly not the largest: that would be the dominant bull. This one a massive creature, if his dorsal fin was not as tall as she was, then she was shorter than a daisy. Their shiny skin gave Orcas a majestic look, but also made them somewhat hard to see as the rays of the setting sun ricocheted off both their bodies and the surface of the water.
Closer … closer … it was suddenly obvious; the pod had sighted her. Lazy clicks and squeaks were now high-pitched, more rapid. Nearly hyperventilating, Diedrika finally began to calm herself, but this would not last long. Fear and distress were well on their way.
The seven Orcas that Diedrika could see suddenly peeled off in different directions. Three of the whales – the massive bull was one of them – disappeared into the shimmering shadows below. Diedrika’s head back above the surface, she watched warily as the other four, each about twenty pike lengths away, began to encircle her.
Curse the gods! Were they eyeing her juiciest pieces?
Furiously trying to decide if she should flee (“To where exactly?”), bronze-make a weapon (“And do what with it? There were FOUR of them!”), shout out to the heavens that just this once she should have listened to her Queen Mother ––
The bull Orca suddenly breached. All but the tip of a fluke and edge of his left pectoral fin fully out of the water, such an elegant presentation would have delighted Diedrika if he was not so close and she was not trembling in terror. The colossal whale landed on his left side; an immense splash pummeled Diedrika’s face and the spectacular wave that threw this splash propelled her backward. She frantically wiped the foaming water from her eyes. The massive bull now nonchalantly cruising passed her; he tilted to his right side, and started to shove water into her face using his left pectoral fin. After five or six of these unfriendly splashes, the boorish bull swam away, then descended into the deep, and was gone. As if by magic, the four whales that had been circling her also vanished.
“I guess I’m all alone now,” Diedrika gasped as she turned her head in every direction. She gulped. “Or not!”
A dorsal fin rising high above the surface now charged straight for her. She swiveled around; another dorsal fin in the exact opposite direction headed for her at full speed as well. Diedrika submerged below the surface. Loud, rapid clicking bombarded her ears. The shadows caused by the setting sun gone, the sea was now as clear as a cloudless sky. And sure enough, two Orcas were closing rapidly.
Still slightly below the water’s surface, Diedrika pushed both hands behind her back. As she brought her glowing palms to her front in an arcing motion, she bronze-made matching rectangular shields that curved outward – they were nearly as tall as she was. One in each hand and held tight against her body, these shields molded what was essentially a bronze cocoon around her.
The clicks and squeaks coming from the charging whales now almost deafening, Diedrika could feel these sounds repeatedly bounce off her shields. Thrusting her powerful tail back and forth to keep from sinking, she looked through a crack where the two shields met: knifing through the water, almost upon her … mouths open….
Silence. Only harmless waves now bumped into Diedrika from each direction – neither whale had collided into the shields. She released them and hurriedly surfaced. Her disheartened eyes did not meet black and white sketching their way across the water, but pastels of orange and blue painting the sky. The sun had departed. And so too had any trace of the Orcas.
Diedrika took in long, deep breaths and bobbed along the surface for many moments. She hoped the whales would return, but none did. Not tonight, at least. She took her time as she then swam back toward the beach.
“Princess! Princess!” Penelope shouted as she rushed toward Diedrika as fast as she could with her walking sticks.
Spent both mentally and physically, Diedrika exited where stones made smooth from an eternal washing at the hands of the always-moving sea covered the sand. Penelope now close, Diedrika inspected her. She looked like a wretched creature who had been plunged into the spirit world of the dead, somehow escaped to cheat death, and moments ago returned to the land of the living. She shook uncontrollably and her skin was the palest blue Diedrika had ever seen on a Mermaid. Forget blue – Penelope was Sapien white!
Diedrika’s heart thumped so hard and fast, she half expected it to erupt from her chest and land in her hands. Penelope’s bluish hue now starting to return, she kissed Diedrika on the forehead, then the cheek, and hugged her. Pulling back, but saying nothing, they locked eyes.
“Whoa! That – was – amazing!” Diedrika exclaimed through gulping breaths. “I challenge Poseidon to match that!”
A squeaky chuckle escaped Penelope as she continued to gawk at Diedrika. “Adventure-driven madness has gripped you … you are beyond reckless … and every Mermaid – no matter if hero, villain, prince, or peasant – will follow you wherever you choose to lead us. You may not be our queen yet, but as of this day, you are my queen now.”
Words Diedrika yearned to hear since she was a youngling spoken; she hugged Penelope. They then gathered their belongings and headed for the carriage. Once they reached the cliff overhang where Penelope had watched from, Diedrika looked back at the sea. And to her delight, caught sight of a single Orca about halfway between the shoreline and where she had met the pod.
“The matriarch.…”
Diedrika had failed for now, but for this future queen, failure was just the first step to success. As for the next steps that needed to be taken….
That is what tomorrows were for.
*****
“You have been at this for three days already – I can’t believe you are going to try again!” For the fourth consecutive evening, Diedrika and Penelope headed for the sea as dusk wrapped itself around Atagartis and kissed the Mermaid capital goodnight.
“But I’m so close, Penelope! I can feel it – tonight is the night. Besides, I have no choice, really. Like us, Orcas have no master. If I am to push our kind to attain those heights I hunger for us to reach, then we must become masters of not just Atagartis, but of the whole sea and every creature in it.”
Penelope dropped off at her usual perch, Diedrika nearly tripped over her walking sticks she was so excited. The pod was again prowling about and the matriarch … Diedrika’s heart sank – the matriarch was not with them. With a heavy sigh, her chin crashed into her chest. Then suddenly, she heard the rush of watery air explode through a blowhole. This sound was close, very close. Diedrika swung around and her gaze froze as she sighted the matriarch. This gorgeous whale now patrolled much closer to the shoreline than Diedrika had ever seen any Orca.
She headed straight for the polished rocks that jutted out from shore, entered the sea, and slowly, though eagerly, submerged. As Diedrika descended, it struck her of the amazing differences a few days had made. The day of her first attempt, she was nervous and scared – rightly so, she reminded herself – but today she was full of hope and almost at ease.
The matriarch slowed as Diedrika swam past her. Only twenty-five pike lengths or so from shore, these shoals were almost shallow enough for her to touch the bottom with her tail. In more awe of their beauty than ever before, it suddenly hit Diedrika: This was the first time she had seen an Orca up close that was not flying through the air or steamrolling toward her. Those distinct black and white markings meshing perfectly, such simplicity was pure genius.
Diedrika swam in a circle around the magnificent whale, who now swam in this same path, but just a bit behind her. She rolled over onto her back. They were now face-to-face.
“As I see you now, I realize we are even more alike than I first believed. Powerful tails to propel ourselves through the water … two eyes with which to lock onto our prey … members of a species with no fear of any other. And this, my friend, is the paradox we are faced with: The sea can only serve one master and that master is me.”
The matriarch, of course, understood none of what Diedrika spoke. Her soft voice, however, seemed to soothe the whale. She appeared relaxed and now floated closer. Diedrika reached out with a single hand and touched with each fingertip the matriarch’s nose. The whale coming even closer, Diedrika began to massage this nose and continued to speak kind words to her.
Under a full moon and its bright light eager to see greatness assert itself, an enchanted friendship began. Diedrika now swam alongside the matriarch and rubbed wherever her skin rose above the water’s surface. As the night wore on, she even allowed Diedrika to lie on her glacier white stomach as she floated on her back. As they frolicked together long past midnight, the sky appeared to celebrate as the greenish glow of an aurora danced overhead.
Finally, the two parted company and Diedrika made her way back to Penelope. They met at the same rocky outpost where Diedrika had entered the sea.
“I don’t believe it,” Penelope blurted. “I mean, I saw it – was bewildered and amazed the whole time by it – but I still can’t believe my eyes.”
A raging fire fueled by boundless confidence burned inside Diedrika, but on the outside she felt as calm as the gentle early morning breeze now tickling her face.
It was one thing to think there was nothing you could not do, it was quite another to know it. Implicitly, beyond any doubt.
Diedrika peered into Penelope’s eyes and, as would a teacher to her student, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. The lecture came next:
“The failure of your heart to believe what your eyes and mind tell you; this is why Penelope writes of Diedrika and not the other way around. Nevertheless, take comfort in your treasured role and the stylus you wield. For behold, my sweet Penelope, great historian, greater friend … our kind is on the precipice of a golden age those before us have only dreamed of.”
*****
For over a month, they had trained tirelessly together. Every day after dinner, through the night, until the wee hours of the morning – it was time to ‘report’ on their progress. Diedrika peeked above the gently rolling waves and took a gander at the six bodies wandering aimlessly along the sandy shores; sure enough, Penelope had brought them all. With two pats of her left hand, they dove to the bottom of the sea and swung around in the direction of the shoreline. A rub, then three pats with her right hand ––
Tearing through the deep water, they rushed passed the submerged others awaiting Diedrika’s signal. The signal given, these monochrome others then joined in behind. Repeated clicks bouncing all about, full speed gained, the dark depths becoming shimmering light, they made their grand entrance.
With Diedrika on her back, the Orca matriarch exploded out of the water. As they soared through the air, she caught looks of shock and awe sprout on each face; even Penelope had yet to see this. The matriarch landed nose first in a thunderous, yet graceful, manner and, with Diedrika still riding her, disappeared beneath the waves. They then resurfaced, and the matriarch now barreled straight for the beach. With a slight bump, the spectacular whale rose fully from the sea and, where foaming water became white sands, came to a gentle halt. Diedrika unhitched herself from her makeshift saddle and slid off the Orca’s left side.
“Powerful, magnificent – they learn with little effort and anticipate without fail!” Diedrika said breathlessly as she glided toward the six stunned statues of blue and gold gawking at her. “This one is the matriarch. I named her Cheslakees.”
Diedrika turned to the sea; the other whales now swam twenty pike lengths at most from the shore. Cheslakees thrashed from side to side – moving backward as she did so – and soon slipped back into the water to join the rest of the pod. The eight whales appeared at ease so close to the shoreline and the massive bull – ‘Kwagu’ kept popping into Diedrika’s head, but she wasn’t sure if this would be his name – looked as though he was trying to smash his flukes atop every incoming wave.
“It’s time, Mother,” Diedrika continued as she sucked in a huge gulp of air. “Time to bring the Orcas under our banner … time to declare our mastery over the seas! I know you told me to do just the opposite, but I couldn’t. My birthright, our destiny – I’m sorry, Mother, but for me, there are some deeds words just cannot meddle with. No matter who speaks them.”
To Diedrika’s surprise, Andromeda wrapped both arms around her and squeezed her tight. As the Queen Mother wiped away tears, she turned to Penelope.
“A legend who has already had more written of her than has ever been written about me; making the impossible appear merely difficult while making what is merely difficult appear simple, you are going to need more copper plates, Penelope.”
“They gather around us as if we are old friends,” Perseos laughed as he too hugged Diedrika and kissed her forehead. “Unlimited courage, bravery without bounds – just to attempt to tame an Orca, and then actually do this ––”
“But why, Granddaughter?” called a soft, but firm voice. “Why risk your life to bring Orcas under your domain? Not for sport nor simply a challenge, that is not your style. Considering this, what exactly will be their purpose?”
Cassiopeia was by far the vainest Mermaid alive – even she would freely admit this. Andromeda’s mother and once queen herself, she had also served as historian for many years. And because of these dual roles, Cassiopeia was probably the most perceptive Mermaid alive as well. Perceptive enough to know that if it was great
power Diedrika sought – and it surely was – then to attain this great power, she was going to have to rock that happy little boat that was their world. Hard. And if a good many Mermaids fell off, then so be it. She only cared about the ones with the courage to weather the storm that was her ambition.
Diedrika glided toward Cassiopeia; they were now barely a hand away from each other. “You know their purpose, Grandmother. More than anyone. And when you find the courage to enlighten the rest of them, feel free to do so.”
She passed by Cassiopeia’s flush face now sporting a violet tint and made her way to greet the Gryphon king, Simonacles, and Gryphon historian, Hezekiah.
“We are speechless, my future queen,” Simonacles said as Diedrika bowed.
“A grand achievement,” Hezekiah added, “that I will be sure to spend a great deal of time scribing about.”
“Thank you, my king, thank you, wise historian. The summer conference with your fellow historians but a month away – now you and Penelope will have something worth talking about.”
“You have certainly made sure of that, Princess,” Hezekiah said kindly.
Pleasantries out of the way, it was time for words that meant something. “You have always been upfront with me, dear king, so I will return the favor. Gryphons have armor. Mermaids have armor. Why should Orcas not have armor too?”
Although Mermaids molded most of their own armor and weapons with bronze smelted by Gryphons, for those the West really couldn’t afford to let die, Gryphon bronzesmiths crafted all arms and armaments requiring more brains than brawn. If Diedrika was going to use Orcas in the way she foresaw, they were going to need this very best armor. And lots of it.
“This is just one pod,” King Simonacles drawled, “but I know there are many others who live about the sea. Do you plan on imposing your charm on them as well?”
“Absolutely.”
“Including these other pods, how many Orcas in total?”
Diedrika thought hard for a moment. “I would guess at least a hundred and fifty, but no more than two hundred.”
The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) Page 2