The River Maid

by Gemma Holden

  “I’m sorry, my friend, but not after last time. You nearly drowned. I still don’t know how you didn’t.”

  He hadn’t nearly drowned; he had drowned. Not that he would tell his mother or Gaspard that. It had happened so quickly. He had stood up to bring the sail in when the mast had swung round and knocked him into the river. For a moment he had been disorientated, lost in the water, and then he remembered desperately trying to get to the surface, but he had run out of breath before he had made it. Somehow, he had woken up on the bank further up the river with Gaspard frantically calling for him. He still didn’t know how he got there. The current should have taken him downstream to his death. It was a mystery he had been unable to solve.

  “I think mother is planning something for my birthday next month.” He had seen her gathering the staff earlier in the day. They had been closeted away in the kitchen for hours. “Has she said anything to you?”

  “You will have to speak to her yourself,” Gaspard said.

  “So long as it’s not a ball.” Gaspard winced and Christian sighed. “That’s it, isn’t it? She’s going to throw me a ball. She knows how much I hate them.”

  “It’s not the ball you should be worried about, my friend.”

  Dread filled him. “She wants to find me a wife.”

  As the second son, he hadn’t been betrothed when he was younger, and after his brother had died in a riding accident, his brother’s intended had asked to be released from the betrothal contract.

  “It was going to happen eventually,” Gaspard said. “You must know that. Come inside when you’re ready.” He left Christian to his thoughts.

  The girl he had been watching disappeared out of sight. He stared down at the town instead. He could see the townspeople far below, like ants scurrying about. He envied them their freedom. He looked longingly at the river. It was the one place he could be free. The one place he could go where he pleased.

  General Ducasse had spoken with him before he left. He had offered to use his influence to secure Christian a place in the French army. For a moment Christian had considered it, but it would mean going against his mother’s wishes and he couldn’t do that to her. Perhaps he should marry; if he did marry his mother might start thinking of him as a man, instead of a boy. He would be able to decide his own future. He’d always known he would have to marry eventually. It was his duty to ensure there was an heir to carry on the family line. He supposed he should be grateful that his mother hadn’t already decided on who he would marry as she decided every other aspect of his life. At least he would get a choice. It might be a limited choice, but it was a choice.

  With a last wistful look at the river, he tore himself away and went to find Gaspard.

  Chapter Five

  Adrianna could hear the song all the time now. It filled her head so that she could think of nothing else. In her dreams she knew the words, but when she woke she had always forgotten them. She became quiet and withdrawn. Frau Duerr commented on it, as she commented on everything. Adrianna only half heard her telling her mother; she was too busy listening for the song. Herr Fleischer’s shirts were now several sizes too small after she let the water boil over. She could hear the song so clearly, everything else sounded muted and far away. One morning she found herself by the river with no memory of how she got there. Perhaps she was going mad like Frau Brauer’s mother, who wandered off and could not remember who she was.

  “I’m worried about you, Adrianna,” her mother said as they folded the washing one morning. “Are you still upset about Jutta?”

  “No,” Adrianna said. She wasn’t listening to her; she was trying to listen for the song. She couldn’t hear it clearly in the town. It was muffled by the noise of the people.

  “Is there a boy?”

  Adrianna looked up. “What?”

  “I remember when your father first started courting me. I could think of nothing else but him. I singed my mother’s best dress because I was so distracted.”

  “There’s no boy.”

  “There is something though. You’ve barely eaten these last few days and I can hear you at night tossing in your sleep.”

  “I’m sorry,” Adrianna said. And she was. She tried to focus on what her mother was saying, but her mind drifted. She hummed as she stared out the window. She couldn’t see the river, but she could feel its presence. If she could just find the source of the song, she would be free of it.

  Her mother sighed as she picked up the basket and left to go and see Frau Luft. Adrianna busied herself stirring the broth that bubbled in the hearth and tried to ignore the song. She banged the pots and pans down, hoping to drown the song out, but as soon as she stopped, it was there calling her. She tried to resist its pull, but she couldn’t stop herself from setting down the spoon and leaving the house and heading out of the town.

  Closing her eyes, she gave herself up to it. She couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. Hearing a splash, she opened her eyes and found herself by the river and far away from the town. A flash of silver in the water caught her gaze. She stepped closer to the river’s edge.

  “Mademoiselle,” a familiar voice called, but she ignored it, her attention fixed on the river and the flash of silver she had seen.

  “Mademoiselle.” Monsieur Gaspard was nearer now, but she was so close to finding the source of the song. Desperately, she scanned the surface. It was there before he had called her.

  “Adrianna,” he said from behind her. She could hear the worry in his voice. She turned, forcing a smile onto her face as Monsieur Gaspard came up, dressed for riding and leading his horse. The song faded away until she could no longer hear it. She wanted to cry out at the loss of it.

  “Monsieur Gaspard,” she said.

  “Did you not hear me calling?” he asked. “I was worried. You were so near the edge.”

  “I thought I saw something in the water.” She tried to remember what she once would have said to him. “You’ve finished your lessons with the prince?”

  “Christian was restless. I couldn’t keep him inside any longer.” He stopped beside her. She kept smiling, hoping it hid her frustration and how much she wanted him to leave.

  “You do not seem yourself, mademoiselle,” Monsieur Gaspard said. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Nothing is wrong.”

  She could hear the song again. The words formed tendrils, coiling around her and threading through her body. She felt it as a physical pull. With her mind distracted, she struggled to pay attention. “Can you hear something?” she asked.

  Monsieur Gaspard looked around. “Only the gulls.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “No.” He peered at her closely. “What can you hear?”

  She hesitated, unsure of whether to tell him. “Nothing.”

  She glanced back at the river and her gaze met another pair of eyes. She could see a face in the water - a girl, although it was difficult to tell. She could just see her head and the top of her white shoulders. Wet hair, dark from the water, clung to her scalp.

  “Adrianna,” Monsieur Gaspard said.

  She blinked and the girl was gone. “Did you see something?”

  Frowning, he shook his head. “What did you see?”

  “There was someone in the water.”

  “Let me walk you back to the town,” he said gently, putting his arm around her and steering her away from the river.

  He thought she was going mad. Perhaps she was.

  He escorted her all the way back to the town and saw her back into her house. Later that day, she saw him talking to her mother through the kitchen window. Her mother’s face was drawn with worry when she came in and she watched Adrianna closely, but she said nothing. The song continued to haunt her. It was present in every waking moment and threaded through her dreams. At night, she dreamed of the river and a face in the water and a hand reaching out for her. The song called her, becoming more and more insistent. Even when she covered her ears, she could still hear it in her h
ead.

  A week after they had found Jutta’s body in the river, she sat mending before the fire. It was the third time she’d had to undo her stitches and start again. Her mother kept glancing up from her own work, her forehead creased with worry. Finally, she set her mending aside. She was silent for several moments, watching Adrianna with unhappy eyes, before she spoke. “I feel like I’m losing you, Adrianna.”

  Adrianna didn’t reply. She was struggling to concentrate on the mending with the song so loud in her head.

  “You don’t have to marry Peter,” her mother went on. “Not if it makes you this unhappy.”

  She had forgotten about Peter and his proposal.

  “Please talk to me, Adrianna,” her mother said, her voice growing desperate.

  Adrianna stayed silent. She didn’t know what to say.

  Her mother sighed. “Here, let me.” She took the mending from Adrianna’s hands and began to unpick the stitches.

  “Shall I start dinner?” Adrianna asked.

  “You will only burn it again.”

  The words should have stung, but she felt as if she was far away and in a dream. She went to stand by the window. Throwing it open, she leaned out. She could hear the song calling her. Its pull was getting stronger and stronger.

  Unable to resist any longer, she opened the door. “I’m going for a walk.”

  Her mother said nothing. She didn’t mention the chores she hadn’t done. As she passed the small white house that belonged to Frau Duerr, Peter came out. He called out to her, but she didn’t stop. She saw him and part of her said to stop, but her legs carried on, the song drawing her.

  She walked by the river’s edge. Some part of her realised that she was going too far from the town, that she should turn back. Then she heard the song. No longer in control of her body, she headed toward it. She rounded a bend.

  A girl lay up to her waist in the river. Adrianna wasn’t surprised to see her; it was as if she had known that she would be there. The girl lay on her stomach, her arms resting on the bank. She drew her long white fingers through the water, singing softly to herself. Golden hair fell over her shoulders and down her back, the ends trailing in the water. She wore a green silk dress; not the new empire style, but older, with billowing skirts and tiny cap sleeves. She had golden rings on every finger. Some were thin bands of gold, others thick and set with gems, and heavy bracelets covered her bare arms from her wrists to her elbows. Strings of pearls and thread thin ropes of gold were woven and braided into her hair and wrapped around her forehead.

  The girl broke off her song as she looked up and saw her; then she smiled. Adrianna couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want the girl to look her. She felt so ugly and coarse in her plain dress. She had forgotten to bring her bonnet and her hair had been pulled loose from their braids and tangled by the wind. She hid her calloused hands in the folds of her dress.

  “What are you doing in the water?” Adrianna asked. It was a foolish question, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  The girl smiled. She had the most extraordinary eyes. They were a deep violet, a shade Adrianna had never seen before, fringed by long golden lashes. Her porcelain skin was free from even the smallest mark or blemish. She looked like a princess or a queen with her jewels. Adrianna had never seen anything so beautiful. Her own eyes were brown and dull and she looked like all the other people in the town, with her drab brown hair.

  “What is your name?” the girl asked her. Even her voice was lovely. Like how a bird might sound if they could speak: pure and sing song. She had a faint accent that Adrianna couldn’t place.

  “Adrianna.”

  “Do you live in the town, Adrianna?”

  The girl had said her name. She was speaking to her. “I live there with my mother.”

  Adrianna wanted to ask who the girl was and why she was in the water, but she was afraid that she might leave. She was hypnotised by her beauty. She couldn’t move away even if she wanted to. “How did you get here?” she asked.

  “I swam.” Had the girl been shipwrecked? This part of the river was dangerous. Ships often ran aground against the cliffs. “Do you know of a boy? He lives up there.” The girl extended a white arm up at the castle that overlooked the town. Her bracelets slid down her arm to pool at her elbow with a clink.

  “The prince is staying there with his mother. His name is Christian.”

  “Christian.” The girl repeated his name softly, almost tenderly.

  “You should come out of the water,” Adrianna said. “You could fall ill if you stay in the river too long.” She couldn’t bear for her to fall ill.

  The girl laughed. “I can’t leave the water.”

  “Why not?”

  The girl leaned forward. “Will you be my friend, Adrianna? You won’t tell anyone my secret.”

  She would have done anything she asked of her, if only she would smile at her again. “No. I promise.”

  The girl smiled. She pushed herself away from the bank. She used her arms to keep herself afloat. The dress rippled around her in the water. Beneath her dress, instead of legs was something…else. Covered with tiny scales, it tapered down to end in fins. The fishtail glistened in the water. It wasn’t a single colour; the scales ranged from lavender through to silver. Adrianna stared. She didn’t know if it was in wonder or in horror. She felt as if she should be afraid. The girl moved back to the riverbank.

  “Don’t be afraid, Adrianna.”

  “You’re a mermaid,” she whispered.

  It wasn’t possible. She must be dreaming. She had heard stories about them when she was a child. They were part fish and part human. But they were just stories; they weren’t real, and they lived in the deep sea, not in a river.

  “What are you doing in the river? Are there others like you?” Adrianna asked, wonder and awe filling her voice.

  The mermaid rested her slender white arms on the bank. “The Count brought me here, a long time ago. He took me from the sea, away from my sisters. At first he would come and visit me, then one day he stopped coming.”

  She looked at Adrianna with sad, wistful eyes. Adrianna knew the Counts of Katzenelnbogen had built the castle, but the family had died out centuries ago. Surely the maid couldn’t have been in the river for hundreds of years?

  “Do you have a name?” Adrianna asked.

  “The Count called me Lorelei.”

  “That’s lovely,” Adrianna said.

  Lorelei moved closer to the bank. “Will you help me, Adrianna?”

  “Yes,” Adrianna said. She would do anything for her. She only had to ask.

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Lorelei smiled and clapped her hands together. “I knew you would.” The girl reached out to her. “You have to come closer.” Adrianna moved forward, careful not to get too close to the edge. Lorelei stretched out her hand, but she couldn’t reach it. “You said you would help me, Adrianna.”

  Pain filled her voice. Adrianna couldn’t bear it. She moved closer to the river’s edge. Lorelei was even more beautiful close up. Her hair swirled about her in the water like a golden cloak.

  “Take my hand.”

  Adrianna took the girl’s hand. Her fingers were long and white. She had never done any work. Adrianna’s hands were red and calloused. She didn’t want Lorelei to see them when her hands were so perfect. Suddenly, Lorelei’s fingers locked around hers and she pulled hard on her hand. Adrianna lost her balance and with a splash, she fell into the river. She wasn’t prepared. Water filled her mouth. She broke the surface gasping for air, but immediately she went back under. Her skirts were a heavy weight, dragging her down. She was going to drown.

  A hand pulled her up. Lorelei held her above the water. Her hand clamped down on her arm with an iron grip. She felt Lorelei’s tail brush against her legs. Adrianna wanted to scream. Whatever spell Lorelei had held her under had been shattered as soon as she hit the water. Revulsion and horror filled her. The girl wasn’
t human.

  Adrianna coughed up water as she tried to breathe. She struggled and tried to pull away, but Lorelei held her fast. She remembered how Jutta had been found dead, floating in the river. She began to shiver.

  “You said you would help me, Adrianna. You lied to me.” Lorelei was no longer warm and kind. Her eyes had darkened and the river had started to churn. Waves washed over them. Adrianna struggled to keep her head above the water.

  Lorelei lifted out a heavy gold chain from the bodice of her dress. Attached to the chain was a vial filled with a thick black liquid with specks of light, like tiny stars. Adrianna was limp in Lorelei’s grip. She could do nothing as Lorelei took Adrianna’s wrist and drew her nails across it. Lorelei held her bleeding wrist over the vial to let drops of her blood fall into the dark fluid.

  Lorelei released her. Adrianna tried desperately to keep afloat. She struggled toward the bank, splashing her arms and kicking her legs. She looked back to see Lorelei tip the liquid down her throat. She screamed as pain washed over her. Her body was gripped in agony as giant claws tore at her insides. The burning pain settled in her legs. It felt like her bones were being squeezed and pulled and twisted. She went under. She opened her mouth to scream and gulped in water.

  A strong hand pulled her to the surface and began towing her to the bank. She found herself in the position Lorelei had been in when she had first met her, with her arms resting on the bank and the rest of her body in the water. Lorelei lay next to her, panting. She sounded as if she was in pain as well. Adrianna hung onto the bank. Water lapped against her. It hurt too much to move her legs. She just clung to the bank and breathed.

  Lorelei pulled herself out of the water and up onto the bank. Adrianna tried to pull herself up, but she couldn’t get her legs to obey. Lorelei lay panting on the ground, her wet skirts tangled around her legs. Adrianna blinked. Lorelei had legs. She must have been mistaken. The girl had been human all along.

  She tried to pull herself up onto the bank with her arms and swing her legs up, but her legs wouldn’t work properly. She fell back into the water.