sea-folk are born without souls and that they feel this lack keenly. The only way one of their kind may gain a soul for herself is by winning the heart of a mortal man. Thus my lovelies strove with each other to earn my affection, granting me every feminine comfort until I was exhausted and could no longer rise to the occasion, no matter the inducement.'
“Pretending to believe these ravings, Harris said, 'In all honesty, Rich, I would not have thought such intimacy possible. Did you not say the lasses had the tails of fish instead of legs?'
“'Aye,' Pike agreed. 'However, let me assure you that bifurcation is quite an unnecessary quality in a woman.'
“'There was not a dry eye among us as we thought of Pike gaining the experience required to speak so convincingly about so unnatural a subject. 'And what was the bull's crime?' asked Kit Minivy, referring to the corpse lying not far distant. 'Did he perhaps take offense at your romancing his brides?'
“'No,' Pike answered. 'The old fellow welcomed me with the same ardor as his wives and for the same reason—in order to win an eternal soul for himself. That was the rub. He was determined to demonstrate his love upon my person and I could not dissuade him from this desire except by hitting him on the head with a rock.'
“Minivy's face was turning as red as Pike's hair as he struggled not to laugh. 'Imagine that, mates,' he finally got out. 'A sea-buggerer. Who would have thought such a diabolical fiend existed.'
“John Harris, too, was beside himself. 'Tell us,' he asked, 'which of this bevy of beauties most caught your fancy?' He indicated a she-seal on a ledge of rock somewhat offshore. 'Her, perhaps?'
“'Of course not!' Pike exclaimed indignantly. 'Are you blind, John, to choose the plainest of the lot? No, I have given my heart to another. Where are you, my lovely?' he called, peering seaward. 'Where have you hidden yourself, you exquisite creature?'
“By now it was clear that Pike was mad as well as drunk. We knew it was our fault, too. We had left him naked and alone in the wilderness of the Darian coast, where the shock of being marooned had unhinged him. We also suspected Drake would not be pleased to lose a man to lunacy, seeing as how our company had been decimated by the Spanish.
“'Come, Richard,' said Minivy, 'bid your sea-wives farewell. It is time to rejoin the fellowship of men.'
“'Aye, mate,' agreed Harris with equal gentleness, 'I have heard that mermaids are fickle vixens and will turn you over for a bit of fresh fish. It is best to end the affair now before there are bitter memories.'
“After some trouble, since he did not wish to leave, we managed to get Pike into the longboat. He continued looking wistfully back at the island until we landed on the main, when weariness and drink overcame him and he fell into a slumber so deep that he did not wake for an entire day. To our relief, however, upon rising, he recalled nothing of the incident but for a few vague dreams of carnal excess. Minivy and Harris, happy that their prank had no worse consequences, never mentioned the matter again. As for myself, mates,” Goddy finished, “I, too, thought no more of the episode. As a matter of fact, I forgot it entirely.”
Goddy returned his attention to the monkey's fist in his lap and said nothing further. After some minutes passed, it dawned on us that the story was over. Lancelot Garget was first to speak:
“You have made my very point, Pascoe,” he exclaimed. “It is as I said—mermaids and mermen are the figments of drunks, madmen, and Papists.”
“I would have thought so, too, Lance,” Goddy replied. “Except—“
Whatever he intended to say was drowned out by an increase in noise from the nearby island, where two bull sea wolves had begun squabbling. It took some time for the commotion to die down. When the volume finally diminished enough for him to be heard, Goddy said, 'Aye, well, where was I?'
“Except—“ we quoted back to him in unison.
“Precisely, mates. I would have thought the same as Lance except for something that happened just last year. I was sailing with Fenton aboard the Eagle, and our adventure carried us to the very part of the Darian coast where I had been previously with Drake. At twilight the Eagle passed the island on which Richard Pike had been marooned. We were not a cable's length offshore when we came abreast of the beach where we had found him. The place was still being used as a rookery by a family of seals, a half dozen females and their lord, a strong young bull. And here is what changed my opinion as to sea-folk and why I no longer believe them to be myth. Aye, mates, what I saw was sufficient to convince me that Pike had told us nothing less than God's honest truth. Ah—finished!”
With a last twist and tug, Goddy completed the monkey's fist and held the pretty thing up for study.
“Bugger the damned knot!” swore Luke Adden, echoing the thought in all our minds. “What in the name of Jesus did you see, Pascoe? “
“Why, Luke, I saw the young bull. As you know, seals typically have brown or black pelts but the fur of this animal was as pale as the skin of an Englishman. And his mane, instead of being dark, was a remarkable red, fully as bright as Richard Pike's hair. Draw your own conclusions, mates, but in my opinion the evidence is compelling. Even if there were no sea-folk in the world before—there are now.”
###
About the Author
David Wesley Hill is an award-winning fiction writer with more than thirty stories published in the U.S. and internationally. In 1997 he was presented with the Golden Bridge award at the International Conference on Science Fiction in Beijing, and in 1999 he placed second in the Writers of the Future contest. In 2007, 2009, and 2011 Mr. Hill was awarded residencies at the Blue Mountain Center, a writers and artists retreat in the Adirondacks. He studied under Joseph Heller and Jack Cady and received a Masters in creative writing from the City University of New York.
At Drake's Command
"The Mermaids of the Darian Coast" takes place during the 1577-1580 circumnavigation of the world by Francis Drake, which is the background of David Wesley Hill's acclaimed novel At Drake's Command.
It was as fine a day to be whipped as any he'd ever seen but the good weather didn't make Peregrine James any happier with the situation he was in. Unfairly convicted of a crime he had not committed, the young cook was strung from the whipping post on the Plymouth quayside when he caught the eye of the charismatic sea captain Francis Drake, who agreed to accept Perry among his crew despite the stripes of a thief on his back.
Soon England was receding in their wake and Perry was serving an unsavory collection of sea dogs as the small fleet of fragile wood ships sailed across the deep brine. Their destination was secret, known to Drake alone. Few sailors believed the public avowal that the expedition was headed for Alexandria to trade in currants. Some men suspected Drake planned a raid across Panama to attack the Spanish in the Pacific. Others were sure the real plan was to round the Cape of Storms to break the Portuguese monopoly of the spice trade. The only thing Perry knew for certain was that they were bound for danger and that he must live by his wits if he were to survive serving at Drake's command.
At Drake's Command Named Indie Book of the Day for July 23,2013
At Drake's Command has been honored with a B.R.A.G. Medallion
"Readers of nautical fiction shouldn't miss this book." —Historical Novel Society
"At Drake's Command, by David Wesley Hill, is a godsend to readers ..." —Awesome Indies
"You'll be planning your day around the next opportunity to pick it up again and devour its 424 pages." —The Literate Man
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