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For four days the captured mermaid hung in Heroes’ Square, dangling in a net hanging from the sword of a giant equestrian statue. As the fishermen put her on display, the townsfolk collected the silver blood that trickled from her wounds to use in miracle cures. Now she had ceased to bleed, but the fact that she produced no stench and that no carrion birds picked at her flesh were the only indications that she was still alive. The town’s stray dogs would look up at her and whine sympathetically, but no one seemed to notice.
When Simon saw her, he wept. Like his master, he had been drawn by the commotion and had eagerly swarmed to the Square for a chance to see a real mermaid. However, as he looked upon the tattered mass of misery, he felt nauseous and overwhelmed. Kneeling by the pool of her blood, his tears mingled with hers.
“It’s not fair,” Simon muttered with the passionate indignation that only a twelve year old can muster. “She’s so pretty, and she’s being treated so wretchedly.”
“Well, young apprentice, life is rough.” his master Alain countered. Alain was a local blacksmith. “Remember when our neighbor Jon was hanged a few months ago? Do you really think it’s fair for him to die because he stole a few coins from the church alms’ plate? And he’s actually a person. That mermaid, however, is not” He paused “a person.”
“But it’s not fair. . .” the boy began, then stopped as he remembered he should not contradict him.
“Think on your own lot in life. Was it fair that a bullet missed your father in battle, but illness carried him off a week later? Or that your sick mother had to sell you into my care so she could die in peace, knowing you’d be safe as my apprentice?”
“I just wish I could do something.” Simon stared at the ground, pouting.
“What can you do, little one? If you try to rescue her, you’ll be strung up as well! Besides, even if you get her down, where are you going to take her?”
“The sea is not far, I would take her to the docks.”
“And the barracks are right by the harbor!” the blacksmith laughed. “What will you tell the Watch as you saunter past them weighed down with a half-dead mermaid?”
“There is a bridge along the road to the forest, I could . . .” the boy continued.
“Ah, now you’re thinking, lad. But how will you slip her past the town gates? They’re closed at night. And we have no permit from the King to leave the city.”
“I. . .” the boy spluttered.
“See, lad? This isn’t some fairytale, of knights rescuing damsels in distress. This situation is real — and there are real obstacles and real consequences for such foolishness. Feel bad for the pretty thing — ay, you may grieve for her in your heart — but you don’t have the means to give her aught but your pity.”
* * *
That night Simon snuck outside, determined to free the mermaid. With a dagger blank in his hand, he skulked through the shadows and alleyways, hoping to avoid patrolling guards.
As he approached Heroes’ Square, he heard screams tearing through the night behind him. Sounds of chaos erupted with flames and smoke somewhere in the city.
“You’ve broken curfew, lad,” a voice spoke, causing him to jump. “And you’ve disobeyed my orders.”
“I’m sorry, master,” Simon began, recognizing Alain, “But I have to try.”
“And how are you going to rescue her, little one?”
“I’m going to cut her down with this,” Simon explained as he showed him the dull blade that he had pilfered from the workshop earlier that evening.
Alain looked at the height of the equestrian statue and its podium and said, “You might need a boost, lad.”
“Will you help me, master?” Hope lit the boy’s face.
“Aye,” Alain said, “I suppose I should follow you to the end of this farce. Cut her down and I’ll catch her.” He watched as the boy scrambled up the bronze statue, using its adornments and reins as footholds to get to his goal. Clutching the horse’s head, he struggled to cut the mermaid’s bonds.
“Oof,” Simon cried out, his hand slipping.
“What’s wrong?” Alain called, concerned.
“I broke the horse’s ear off,” Simon replied sheepishly, “and it scraped my hand.”
“You alright?”
“It hurt,” the boy admitted, “But its edge is jagged. It will be a better tool than the blade.”
“You need to hurry. Any minute now, we’ll be spotted. . .” Alain said anxiously.
“All the king’s guards will be busy tending the fire. We will have an easy task getting her to safety,” Simon said and with a final grunt, the rope snapped.
The mermaid tumbled into the blacksmith’s arms and he shuffled her weight to get a better grip. As he pulled the net off of her form, he marveled at the wretched creature. Like holding a boll of wet cotton, she sagged against his chest limply.
The mermaid made no sign of recognition of her rescue, but she gave a little gasp as they moved her limbs. Alain marveled at her form as he cradled her in his arms.
“See?” Simon said, awkwardly placing one of his mother’s frocks over her form, covering her fins. “She can be our cousin Brigit. We can say that she had too much to drink, and we’re seeing her home.”
Alain gently placed her on the ground to help cover her in the dress. “Clever of you to think of clothes for the lass, Simon,” the blacksmith smiled. “But why call her Brigit?”
“I always liked that name,” the youth admitted sheepishly, then offered, “I can carry her.”
“I think she’s a bit too heavy for you, lad,” Alain chuckled. “Now come.”
As they wandered the streets, the blacksmith noted, “There are no soldiers, no guards.”
“They’re busy fighting the fire, master,” the boy replied.
“Wait.” He grew quiet, suspicious. “Simon, did you know there would be a fire? Did you start the fire?”
“No, master,” his apprentice replied blankly, leaving Alain’s mind in doubt.
“How will we get out of the city? Past the guards?” Alain prompted.
“The servants’ gate,” the youth pointed.
“There is a servants’ gate?”
“Of course. Haven’t you ever. . .? Ooh, master, of course you don’t know of it! You’re not a servant!”
“Then lead the way, little servant.” Alain chuckled.
Through city walls, through forest paths they trekked towards clear running water. As they progressed, the blacksmith’s heart softened with every step. Both child and adult alike whispered soothing words of encouragement to the ailing mermaid.
“Almost there,” they smiled as they approached the bridge.
“The stream! We’re here!”
“No,” the blacksmith corrected the youth, “We should continue away from the road. Let’s follow the river upstream. Look–there’s a copse right there, out of view.”
At the bend of the stream, they pulled the dress off and placed the mermaid gently in the water. She took in another gasp, her eyelids fluttered–but her form remained clenched, taut in distress.
“What now, lad?” the blacksmith asked sadly. “Now that we’ve rescued the damsel in distress?”
“I–” Simon spluttered. “I’m not sure. Do you think she’ll be alright?”
Alain gave a sigh and answered, “No. She’s been out of the water for so long, and she’s lost a lot of blood. I think you did a good thing bringing her back to nature, but I think she won’t be suffering for much longer.”
“But there has to be some way we can help her!” the youth whimpered.
“We did, little lad. And we can stay for a while, and bury her when she passes. But it’s her time.”
“What about the elves deeper in the forest? They can heal her with their magic!” the youth said, desperate.
“You can try calling them, but they won’t come. Not to a human’s call.”
The youth slid into the stream to cradle the mermaid’s head in his lap.
“You did a brave thing, lad. But remember, life isn’t fair.”
He snuffled back a sob, and Alain leaned back against a nearby tree to give the boy some privacy.
Behind him a rustle of leaves stirred, and a tiny kobold appeared. Although dwarfed by the size of the humans, the scars upon its flesh and the wild look on its face made him look fiercely dangerous. It approach cautiously, never taking its eyes from the Alain. The boy and the master froze as the kobold carefully knelt into the water beside the mermaid.
“What have you done to her?” it snapped.
“The lad was determined to rescue her. If you can help her, please do . . .” Alain spoke, determined to use deference to gain the kobold’s trust.
“Can you save her?” the boy pleaded.
The kobold took the mermaid in his arms and rocked her gently. He spoke some words of comfort in their elfin tongue and she responded in turn.
Her eyes lifted to meet his, and a look of recognition hit them briefly. ”Friend,” she smiled, placing her hand in his and releasing the treasure she had clutched in her palm. She handed him a tiny pearl and with one last breath her form dissolved into the waves.
“No!” Simon breathed, and wept in loss; his master gently gathered him close, carefully out of the elemental’s reach.
The kobold stood still for many moments, staring at the pearl in its hand. At last, whispering her name in sorrowful awe, “Little Silver,” it kissed the pearl and tucked it into the pouch fixed to its belt. It then turned to the blacksmith, “The blood of this innocent mermaid will be on human hands.”
“But I. . .”
“The whole forest will want vengeance for this. They will blame you. If you stay, you will be caught and killed.”
“I. . .” Alain spluttered, clutching the boy protectively.
“I smell Cold Iron on you. . .in your flesh. You are a metal worker?”
He nodded. “I’m a blacksmith.”
“I cannot touch you without harming myself,” he said, revealing the wounds on his flesh where he had been burned by Cold Iron, “But those who entered the City to look for Little Silver aren’t like me. They’re immune. If they find you in this forest, they will kill you.”
“The fire starters!” Alain squeezed his apprentice’s shoulder, “So you weren’t an arsonist after all!” Then he sobered and said, “They set the City on fire to find her?”
He nodded. “But too late, I fear. They will not be kind to you if you stay.”
The youth pulled the bronze horse’s ear out of his pocket for protection.
“That is the strangest weapon I have ever seen,” the kobold shook his head, bewildered. “But it will not save you from them. You must go now. Go back to the city, where you will be safe from their wrath.”
He spat upon his fingers and smeared the glowing substance on their brows, declaring, “This is my blessing. If they catch you, they will know that you have come in peace. If they ask, tell them that Furnace the kobold has Little Silver’s remains. But you must never, ever enter this wood again. Do you understand?”
They nodded.
“Keep your weapons brandished until you are inside the city gates. Go.”
The kobold disappeared into the trees as the humans looked on, stupefied. Finally, the sense of urgency pressed them forward and they hastened home.
“Well,” Alain said sadly, “You’ve done a good thing, regardless of how it ended.”
“I can’t believe it was all for nothing,” Simon declared.
“No, she died among friends. That’s worth something.”
“I suppose,” the boy muttered under his breath.
“I’ll bet in the confusion of the fire, we can slip back unnoticed,” Alain said hopefully.
“You’re not worried about the forge?”
“No, my tools won’t be disturbed by a fire.”
The youth grew quiet, then looked down at the piece of bronze in his hand and asked, “What do we do with the ear? Can it be reattached?”
“Of course,” Alain replied, “But by returning it, we admit guilt in freeing the mermaid. We should leave it in the forest.”
They approached the bridge, returning to the forest path. As Alain turned towards the city, the youth paused.
“Simon?” Alain prompted, turning to face him.
“In a minute,” the boy offered. As quickly as he could, he crossed the footbridge and dropped the bronze horse’s ear into the rushing stream. After a brief prayer, he returned dutifully to his master.
“Now it’s with her,” he said, “A memorial for the mermaid’s remains.”
Alain smiled sadly and the pair continued home.
