Publication Date: Unknown (Minor Emendations: Sunday, September 13th, 2015)


Sael

Chapter 7a – In Shining Armor

~~~ Saturday, the 16th of November, 1805 AD ~~~

~ 12:10 p.m. ~

Christiansborg Palace – Christiansted, Sankt Croix

In the skies far above the island of Sankt Croix a single wisp of moisture dared to coalesce where warm air rising from the land met the cool breeze blowing from the sea. There were others of course, fair little tendrils of vapor innumerable and infinitesimal that formed and just as quickly dissolved amid the harsh rays of the marred sun. Yet this one little wisp persisted and reaching upward, even flourished, until at last spreading its wings, it was reborn a cloud. For a while its slight shade offered just a little relief to the dry earth below as the cloudlet for a while withstood the onslaught of the mighty eye of day, rolling and rising in exuberant joyful coils of pale cool mist. But then the breeze from the sea slowly slackened and dwindled, until at last it failed. The little cloudlet, no longer then being cooled by the sweet breath of the sea, faltered then, as the fires of midday bore down upon its gossamer substance. At first its fine eddies and currents became confused and then lost their ways. The little cloudlet itself then began to diffuse, to fall apart, to dissolve. Eventually, each little remnant of its former hope for existence wasted into a fading haze of vaguest white, like foam washed wide upon the surface of the raging sea. Then that too was gone, and nothing remained, only the clear and empty sky.

Far below on the eastern side of Christiansborg Palace the sailors of Lyn, longshoremen, and hired workmen labored at a new construction. It was to be a makeshift pavilion to protect those there against the harsh sun above. Sailors sat aloft on the upright spars that lined the pier, pulling lines taut and spreading great sheets of canvas across the gap that separated the two sides. Slowly, shade spread across the dock that lay beneath the eastern side of the quay. Excess sailcloth was draped downward along the sides and fastened with lashings as a guard against what would later become a westering sun.

The architect of that pavilion was no longer there with his men. Instead, shortly after sharing his plan with the newly returned Captain Larson and giving his fellow ship's mates instructions, Hans Rubert Sael had hastened with the Captain of the Guard through the Eastern Arch.

Hans had never before passed through those doors, for they represented a part of young Eric's life of which Sael had never been a part, and would never be a part; for it was the life not of a sailor, but of a prince.

"This way Master Sael." Captain Carlson said, looking over his shoulder as he sheathed his sword.

As Carlson walked slightly before him leading the way, Hans dared to look up.

A great vaulted ceiling greeted his eyes, one that must be thirty or more feet in height. Thick pillars of polished golden marble rose at intervals along its length to hold the mighty vaults suspended above. On the far eastern side of the hall a scant few sunbeams fell though high arched windows, angling down in slender strands that betrayed the sun's approach to its zenith. Dust motes floated in that light, each now glowing like a bright and glorious star as it drifted along upon unseen currents of air.

"Ne'er seen any o' this afore." Hans said to himself with reverence as he quietly folded his hat and slipped it into the back of his waistband. "Where we goin', Captain'?"

"This Princess' chambers in the Guest Wing above." He replied with some urgency. "Mistress Grimaldi has her quartered on the third floor. It's something of a climb, but it places the young lady high enough that it would be difficult for anyone or anything fell to reach her before my men put an end to the threat."

"Anything?" Hans thought to himself, wondering what the Captain had meant by that. It wasn't as though there were any wolves or any such animals on the isle that might threaten her. "What worried the man?" he asked himself, and then determined he would find out.

Carlson's boot steps echoed softly through the hall as the two crossed its length.

Looking down at the floor, Hans noted it was of a polished marble, dark black laced with veins of white while subtle tinges of pale reds and golds could be discerned in its sunlit provinces near the eastern wall. The western wall stood mostly in deep shadow, but the old man could still discern the outlines of great portraits, mirrors and statuary recessed in alcoves too deep and too dim for his old eyes to penetrate.

Down the great length of the chamber ran a carpet of rich Tyrian purple, and at its north end lay a dais.

Upon that dais there sat a chair like a throne, but it was not a throne. It was the Seat of Power of the Isles, the whole of the Danish West Indies, the Jomfruøerne, Prince Christian's personal appanage and the demesne over which his rule as Prince Eric was absolute, at least in theory. Yet the chamber stood disused, as it nearly always had.

Carlson and Sael approached the dais, taking it to their right and immersing themselves in shadow

"So, if ya don't mind me askin', wha' is she like?" Hans asked.

"We shouldn't be speaking in here, Master Sael." There was a curtness in the Captain's voice, but also, a pause at the end, pregnant with some meaning Hans could not quite discern.

"Ahh, I see. Sorry abo' tha'. Didn't mean nothin' by it." Hans replied quietly

"The Princess you mean?" the Captain continued, surprising Hans, for they were still quite a distance from the northern doors. "Why would you ask me Master Sael? You saw her for yourself this morning, even held her in your arms. You should know better than I, shouldn't you?"

"A curious tone in the young fellow's voice, almost … envious?" Hans thought. "Just curious Captain, seein' as ya' been aroun' 'er since she first came and' all."

"After all 'tis no' e'ery day a fellow gets ta' hold a real princess right in his arms, an' such pretty lil' thing too." The old sailor continued, smiling gleefully like a benevolent grandfather looking upon the newest addition to his family for the very first time. "Reminds me o' my own lil' girl, the Good Lord rest her soul."

The Captain went silent after that, but as they approached the arch guarding the northern entrance to the chamber, Carlson continued, though in a quiet voice, a voice filled with a surprising and sad tenderness. "She's very innocent as one might expect given her young age … and very kind, almost as though she's but a common girl with no pretentions at all to rank, to status. A bit willful though at times." He paused then and smiled softly to himself as though relieving some fond memory. "Well … more than a bit."

This whole conversation was turning into something of a delight for Hans, given that he had never spoken at such length to the Captain before, and he was learning quite a bit in doing so. As he listened though, Sael was quick to note the nuances of the man's speech and his accent, which weren't like those of most Danes of the Isles. They seemed more, American … perhaps British. Even when he had spoken Danish there was more than something of the trace of an accent.

Coming to the door, Carlson reached down to its handle, then looked back at Hans, smiling at the sailor now. "She's also quick-minded and amazingly curious … like no one else I've ever met."

"Ah," Hans thought. "So it comes out then. Not only has the Captain met the young Lady, he fancies her. Now, tha' coul' be a bit o' a problem, especially since the lad seems to know a bit more than he's telling. But, what's the story there?" the old man wondered, and of course decided to find out.

Carlson paused, staring back at the now grinning Sael. "You know, I think we've spoken about this before haven't we, a few weeks back? If I recall I said much the same thing then, though I shouldn't have, just as I probably shouldn't be saying anything now."

"Beautiful too." Hans added, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head as he grasped the handle of the opposite door and pulled it open.

"What?" Carlson asked, looking over to the old man with a puzzled look on his face.

"I said she's beautiful too."

Carlson stepped back with Sael as the great twin doors swung inward towards them.

"Yes." Carlson said in a quiet voice, almost a whisper. He seemed suddenly caught up in some thought as he looked down to the floor. "That she is." Then turning to Sael on his left smiled back. "In many ways."

Shadows greeted them as the archway beyond was devoid of windows; only the light streaming through the windows in the far foyer filled their eyes. Carlson entered first, again taking the lead. It seemed to be a habit for the man, though Sael didn't resent it, having followed others and followed well most of his life … save at certain times. It was true that he could lead when the times demanded it, but this wasn't such a time, not yet at least.

"Captain, how is i' tha' ya know she's as ya' say?" Hans asked, pausing for a moment as he followed Carlson through the archway. "Come on now, tell good ol' Hans some more." the old man insisted.

"You ask a lot of questions don't you Master Sael?" Carlson asked, not even looking back. "Well, if you must know, I spar with Prince Eric every weekday morning now before he repairs to breakfast with the Princess, and his favorite subject for conversation … is her. Not that I blame him of course."

"So just tha' then, by wha' Eric say's o' her"?

"Prince Eric, and no … I have her watched."

"Watched! But why?!"

"Master Sael, are you at all familiar with what happened the night of the Prince's 'wedding'?"

"Well, err, only from th' rumors an' such."

"Very well then. Hans, something came for the Princess that night, out of the sea, while she was on the wedding barge. I saw it."

On the far side of the arched hallway rose a flight of wide stairs on either side, and on the far side of those flights where the arch continued into the first floor of the guest tower could be seen two soldiers of the Guard.

"Something?" Hans asked, his smile fading "Wha'da ya' mean, something?'"

"A horror Hans. Something devilish … demonic." Carlson said quietly, then continued "It was like nothing I have ever before seen." The Captain paused silently then. "By the time I had reached the Princess and the Prince it was too late; it had pulled her over the side."

"A horror, a monster ya' mean? So them rumors is true then? The Prince followed her o'er the side ta' save 'er?"

Carlson nodded solemnly, guilt now clouding his solemn expression.

"Wel'' yer awful quiet abou' it ain't ya?" Sael jabbed.

"Of course I am quiet about it, she's the Prince's fiancée. It's not my place to speak about her no matter how I feel."

"How you feel?" Oh now! How's that Captain?!" Hans said, smiling like the Old Nick himself, realizing he'd finally pried a plate loose from the Captain's armored heart. "And fiancée? Ya' that's th' word what' we all ha' been hearing but no one's a heard no' announcement, seen no banns."

"My understanding is that the Prince and Princess plighted their troth alone together some weeks ago, when exactly I don't know for certain Hans."

"And Hans, "Carlson looked back at Sael, then lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry, about your daughter I mean."

Stepping into the foyer Hans smiled sadly. "Ah … Don' be sorry Captain, it helps old Hans to talk abou' my Elna when I ca' work 'er in edgewise. Keep's her and 'er mother alive in m' heart."

Carlson nodded solemnly. "Well, then I'll have to ask you to tell me more about them both, seeing as we seem to be working together for the time being." He stopped, looking to the guards who both looked to him as though awaiting his instruction, then turned his head slightly back to face Hans.

But Hans was ready for him. "Now, a getting' back ta' how ya' feel sir, how's that Captain, now tha' we're friends and all, you can tell us wha' be eatin' a' ya. Go on now, Ol' Hans won' tell." The Seadog chattered on, grinning widely as he did so.

"Master Sael, is it possible that we might change the subject? I'm rather starting to regret I didn't honor the quiet of the Audience Hall."

The Captain turned to the closest sentry, and in a very different and commanding tone, though still barely a whisper, spoke to the man "Private Bech, why are you and Private Brandt posted here?"

"Sir, both the Prince and Lord Grimsby are in the Guest Library. The Prince arrived and joined His Lordship just a short while ago."

"Ah, I see. Very Good."

Carlson turned to Sael. "We're in luck. Follow my lead Master Sael."

"Aye, aye, Captain." Hans whispered, thinking to himself that he hardly had an option, had he?

Carlson stood and listened at the open door for a few moments, waiting for a break in the conversation between Prince Eric and Lord Grimsby in the room beyond. Sael heard both of their voices clearly and recognized them from the many long years he had shared with Eric and the few voyages Lord Grimsby had made to accompany and advise the young Prince.

When their words ebbed, Carlson seized the opportunity and knocked firmly on the door. "Your highness."

Lord Grimsby, being the one of the two actually facing the door looked over to the two men standing beyond. "Ah Captain, yes, how may I help you? Is something the matter?"

Eric turned to look behind him, his eyes alighting on both Derek and Hans. The old man stood taller than he normally did and nearly straight, something Eric instantly recognized Sael did in only times of urgency owing to a back that ached with age and injury.

"Derek … Hans?" Eric asked "What is it?"

"Sire," Carlson began, addressing Eric first then nodding to Lord Grimsby "I'm afraid I have a matter of concern to bring to your attention. It concerns the Princess's welfare."

Eric immediately stood up straight from the wall and stared Carlson square in the eye, his attention now fully focused on the man's words.

"This is Master Hans Sael, I believe you are both old acquaintances, so if you will, I'll let him speak."

"Yes, of course, I know Hans well and wanted to speak with him, but Princess Ariel is safe upstairs in her chambers with Mistress Grimaldi and Doctor Østerby. I left her there just half an hour ago, and there are guards posted outside her room, as I'm sure you're well aware Captain."

"Tha' be just it Eric," Hans started informally, dispensing with the young man's title as he had for years at sea when he needed the boy to actually listen to him.

As the old man spoke, Carlson rolled his eyes and Grimsby put his forehead to his hand, shaking his head in dismay. Eric hardly seemed to notice, if he even noticed at all. "Yes, of course, go on Hans." he replied.

"This young Østerby fellow, he ain' like his father. E'er since he came and took o'er his father's practice, he been about his rounds to the ships in port and folk in town chargin' such fees, jus' like those other eight. I mean, like families and ships can afford so much, five and ten times as much as his before. An' o' them ones he has treated …"

There was a whine at Eric's feet followed by a tenuous growl. Looking down Eric saw Max's ears perk as the dog bolted from where he lay around Eric's legs and through the doorway between Sael and Carlson. All eyes followed the sheephound as he disappeared around the corner, barking as he bounded up the stairs.

Carlson's head snapped back to Eric. The instant their eyes met, they both turned without a word and sprinted through the hallway, turning up the stairs of the north foyer with the Captain in the lead. Max's barking receded as the dog quickly outdistanced the two men. As they charged up the stairs, they could hear the screams of a young woman echoing through the shadowed stairwell above. By the time they had gained the second floor landing, the screams had given way to desperate words.

"Ui! … Ui! … Ván!"

The voice to whom those screams belonged though was unmistakable. It was Ariel's, and there could be no doubt that whatever assailed her, she was terrified.

Ui! … Ui! … Áva caaarë!" the girl screamed.

There was a loud crash followed by other panicked voices that grew louder with every stair that flew by underfoot. Now the sounds of a struggle could be heard just above as Eric strode up the stairs as quickly as his legs would allow. Then the sounds momentarily ceased as a pregnant silence filled the air, only to be split by a final blood-curdling scream.

"... Aiiiriiiiiiiiiiiiiic!"

Wavering and desperate, the maiden's scream faltered … and was followed by dead silence.

Before the two men had reached the third floor landing Eric leapt ahead, vaulting up several stairs with each step. Carlson followed, but Sael and Grimsby lagged woefully far behind, the bitter regret of age hindering them both.

Finally Eric reached the upper landing, and by now his heart was pounding, horrific visions of what could possibly be happening to his little mermaid racing through his mind. Nothing he could think of made even remote sense. She was guarded in a safe place, under the care of both Carlotta and a gentleman Doctor. What could be terrifying his love so?

Arriving at the landing, Eric found Private Thomsen standing there at the door, a look of confusion on his face as he looked from the bedchamber door to the prince. The soldier stood quickly to attention as Eric strode past him into the room beyond. Carlson followed immediately. What greeted the men was chaos.

Strewn about Ariel's bed and floor were various objects, some large, many small, none that the Prince recognized as he desperately sought his objective.

Carlotta stood motionless near the nightstand on the far side of the bed. Following her stare, Eric found his eyes drawn to the head of the bed itself. There, on the far side closest to the window lay Ariel, sitting upright against the headboard with her legs tucked elegantly beneath her, her toes and feet just barely showing from under the hem of her dress.

She was sobbing, her head nodding as though she was struggling to stay awake. Both of her slender arms were held out before her, each held fast in the firm grip of Doctor Østerby's two clenched hands. Beyond her troubling lack of alertness, the sight of Ariel being held by this man clearly against her will alarmed and angered Eric. While her cries had ceased, Eric sensed that something remained deeply amiss in the room.

"Østerby!"

The Physician turned to the Prince with a calm smile that instantly soured as he heard the anger in the young man's voice and saw the wrath in his eyes. It was not something he had been anticipating based on the young man's self-effacing manner from their earlier meeting. "Your highness …" he began.

"No! Eric demanded. He was in no mood for platitudes; he wanted answers … and quickly. "What were you doing to her?!"

Looking from Ariel then back to Østerby, the prince strode swiftly across the room towards the doctor and the far side of Ariel's bed. Rounding the foot of her bed he came face-to-face with the still-seated Physician. "Explain to me right now why she was screaming as she was and why you are holding her!"

Østerby noted that the Prince's voice and demeanor were powerful and commanding, entirely unlike the guilt-ridden boy he had seen just a short while ago. It was actually slightly intimidating. Østerby looked from Eric and back to Ariel. "Your highness, if you'll just let me … "

"No. Belay that." There was something the prince didn't like about how the Physician had been looking at Ariel when he had reached the room. "Step away from her first." Eric commanded. "Then explain."

Reluctantly Østerby complied, gently laying the girl's hands in her lap and patting them down gently as though to fix them there as her head nodded once again. Slowly, Ariel raised her head to the sound of Eric's voice. "Yes sire." he replied.

As soon as Østerby departed Ariel's side, Carlotta took his place. "Honey, are you alright?!" she cried as she sought a way to try to soothe the girl, but it wasn't working. Instantly the dazed young woman's hands flew to her neck, at which she started to probe and feel about with increasing desperation.

"Jens, Derek, hold him." Eric commanded. The Captain and Private Lund quickly seized the Doctor by his arms and legs. The man grimaced as his arms were pinned behind him.

Eric stared at the man, the look in his eyes so hot it could have melted iron. "Explain."

"Yes your highness," Østerby replied, putting his hand to his injured eye. "I was but rendering medical assistance to her. Please listen to me. This is all a misunderstanding. The Princess is suffering from an acute but mild sanguinary edema and I was endeavoring to prevent its worsening. I promise you, I was doing nothing to harm her."

Eric noted that the man's left eye was badly bruised and wondered what had caused it. Nevertheless he listened to Østerby and at his mention of Ariel turned quickly back to his young fiancée, concern filling his eyes. He saw immediately that she was very clearly beginning to panic, desperate whimpers fast growing into something increasingly more terrified. On her neck he saw several things, each brownish black and throbbing with its own merciless rhythm as it drew his love's lifeblood from her delicate throat.

Leeches.

"No! No! Hold her hands. Don't let her pull them off …! She'll bleed to death for sure! Do you want her to die?!" Østerby cried desperately.

Carlson stared at the man, his brow furrowing. "You bled her when all she needed was water and rest! Where is the sense in that Doctor!?" he said, bitterness seething in his words.

"And who are you and what are your credentials may I ask?" Østerby shot back. "What know you of medicine that you question me? Those leeches are near her jugular. Believe me, I know my art. If she rips them off she'll tear open her own neck, and on all of your heads will her blood be!"

Pausing for a moment, the Captain considered the physician's words. "Wait!" he cried, the blood draining from his face. "The Doctor may be right! Mistress Grimaldi, hold the Princess's hands, quickly! Don't let her touch the leeches." He looked down at the Physician. "But it's not just their teeth to be concerned about, right good Doctor?" he asked in an acid voice, as if trying to make some point to the man.

Distraught and confused, Carlotta took Ariel's hands into her own. For a moment Ariel pulled back and shrieked, flailing wildly with her arms until Carlotta at last caught a firm grip on the girl's tiny wrists. "Ariel … Ariel … no!" Carlotta cried desperately as she tried to calm the girl.

"Uiii! … Uiiii!" Ariel pleaded, her breath coming now in ragged fits, "Ani leryaaa! … Ani leryaaa … Aiiriiic!" she finally cried as she broke down into a fit of helpless sobs.

"Carlotta, give her to me." Eric said softly, kneeling down with care next to the Housekeeper. Gently, he took the girls hands from Carlotta and kissed them as Ariel strained against him. "Ariel, it's me … Eric. I'm right here, love. I know you're scared but you're alright, you're not hurt. Can you understand me?"

At the sound of Eric's voice and the tenderness of his touch, Ariel calmed somewhat, but her chest still heaved as she struggled to breathe against her tears. "Ani lerya…" she pleaded. "Airic … Ani lerya."

"Ariel, English … in English, I can't understand you. Can you speak English to me?"

At this Ariel looked up with weary eyes that looked at Eric as though she had been utterly defeated, with eyes that pleaded with him to do … something … anything.

"Ná … istan quet Inwilya." she said brokenly between sniffs, tears now running freely down her cheeks.

There was a long pause.

"Why … why will you not … let me go?" the girl pleaded almost in a pained whisper, then gasped for air, her voice betraying her exhaustion, both of body and mind.

"Let you go?!" Eric cried softly in confusion. "Never!" Then he paused. "Do you mean your hands? But … why?"

Eric felt Ariel's arms tremble in his clenched fingers as she closed her tear-filled eyes.

"He put … he put …" she started but, but choked on her own breath as she tried to speak through her worsening sobs. Her slender chest and back began to heave as she gasped for breath.

At this, Eric had had enough. Taking her right arm, he placed her wrist in his left hand with the other and held them both gently … but fast. Then reaching around the young woman with his right arm, he pulled her into him and began to gently stroke the back of her neck, her hair, and then her back.

"It's alright love, you're unharmed and you're safe. Go on … tell me what happened."

Again she tried to speak. "He put … sarnalavir on me, Airic …" she cried out pathetically, her eyes still closed.

The girl drew in a series of short gasps, and just as quickly sobbed them back out. "Nertehendi … to … to eat me from the inside."

Ariel paused as she struggled, trying to control her breathing. "Please ... don't let them … Airic … take them offplease ..."

"Ariel, what are ne … nert …" Eric began to ask.

"Nine eyes." A voice said from behind them.

Carlson, Eric, everyone, even the still sobbing young woman looked back to the bedchamber door, and saw Hans Sael standing there. Beside him stood Aubrey Beauclerk.

"The word literally means 'nine eyes.'" Beauclerk repeated, saying the two words slowly. "But what that means I have absolutely no idea."

Ariel looked now to Grimsby, her breathing and sobs easing now as a new curiosity momentarily drew her attention away from her discomfort and fear. "How does he know the Sea Speech?" she wondered. It was just one word, but, how could he know it when she didn't even know the human word … the Faërya word for those things? Was he even right?

Eric continued to hold and soothe Ariel as he cradled her two wrists in his left hand, and it seemed to be helping. This day was proving to be simply awful for his love … horrible, and Eric began to wonder how he could possibly make it right for her.

"Grim, do you know what the other word was?" Eric asked, now looking at the man intently as he relaxed his grip on Ariel's wrists, and took her hands in his instead, feeling that she had finally ceased struggling.

"Other word? My boy, what other word?"

"Sarnavir, something like that" Carlson said, leaving Østerby to Private Lund.

Eric nodded at the Captain's words. "Was that what you said love?" he asked, lowering his head to catch Ariel's eyes with his.

"Sarnalavir." Ariel replied quietly. "I do not … don't … know the Inw … Inglish word … for them."

"Ahh," Beauclerk smiled as he focused his eyes and ears on the distraught young woman before him, hoping to hear her speak more. Indeed, it was the first time he had ever heard their mermaid princess utter anything in her native tongue, so good was her English and her consistency in using it. His smile quickly faded. "I believe that the word means "stone-licker' or some such."

"Lampreys." All eyes turned now to Sael. "Sounds li' she's a' talking 'bout lampreys. 'Nine eyes' is what the Tysk calls 'em too, and fer good reason."

Stepping into the room as though he owned it, the sailor walked across the bedchamber around the foot the bed against whose headboard the young princess now lay coiled, her hands gently held by the Prince that Hans had now known for many years.

"Ya see, them fish, they's like ta' eels, bu' they's not. Got eight slits fer they' gills just right a' hind ther' eyes. Look mighty fierce it does ta' see one, like nine eyes twice o'er a lookin'a' ya' wi' all them wicked rings o' teeth. Rare good eatin' though."

Ariel's eyes followed Hans as he stepped around to her and knelt down beside Eric, looking gently at her. The man Eric had called 'Hans' out on the quay now smiled in the same way he had smiled at her just that morning. It was a reassuring smile almost like the one her father shown her when he not long ago returned her to safety from the abyssal caverns, from another adventure gone awry.

He smiled at Ariel and watched her carefully as he spoke, not wanting to frighten her, but instead to scare away her fears of the monstrous fish that he now discerned must prey upon mermaids, at least from what the girl had said and how she had reacted. It made sense that the awful things would, they slew so many other sea creatures, fish especially, and mermaids were half fish, weren't they?

The only problem was that … there weren't any lampreys in the warm waters of the Caribbean. No, those things were creatures of the northern coastal seas and rivers.

"Hello ag'in Princess." Hans smiled. "Someone ge' me some linen an' spirits, quick please." he said, then looked to Carlotta, who nodded in return. The woman hastened from the room.

"Humans eat nertehendi?" she asked, her eyes widening in amazement. Of all the dark things in the sea, there were few that terrified the girl more than the vicious nine-eyed sarnalavir; only certain sharks, giant squid and a few other deadly things from which she had barely escaped in her many adventures. There were few creatures though that the girl hated so viscerally. That humans actually killed and ate the evil vampire fish now gave the mermaid a strange sense of … comfort.

Which is exactly what Hans had wanted. "Ya. Ol' Hans eats a lot o' fish, Princess, no' meanin' offense or ta' scare ya', but them lampreys is miiighty tasty." The old sailor flashed a toothy grin at the girl.

At this Ariel blanched but realized there was a nuance in what the man was saying, as though to say that even though he ate fish, she still had no cause to be afraid of him. This Hans seemed so gentle, like her father at his kindest, but then again, he was a fish eater, just as her Eric had been … and maybe still was. Her father's warnings echoed confusingly in her mind. How could some humans be so wonderful, yet still eat fish?

"Sir … Sir? Wha … may I ask what exactly you are doing … you'll hur…" Østerby began before Lund silenced him.

"Shut 'yer damned mouth Doctor, before I come o'er there and shut it fer ya'." The old man said without even looking back at the physician. Smiling at the young maiden before him, Sael continued "Pardon m' sailor's tongue, Princess."

Ariel looked at the man and nodded slightly, wondering what he meant. By now the girl's breathing had calmed considerably. "You're going to take them off?!" Her frightened eyes widened in sudden hope.

"Aye, tha' I am, since no one else her seems inclined ta'. I've picked my fair share o' leeches in my years. An' I think this one here is abou' ready to come loose." Hans reached out slowly and gently touched the girl's neck.

"Leeches?" she thought. "What are 'leeches'?" That was what the Doctor had called them when he had tried to calm her after she first screamed. Were they not sarnalavir after all? Had she overreacted and panicked like a little girl? Now Ariel was beginning to feel deeply embarrassed … humiliated, and all this after she had tried so hard to be strong … to not be a guppy. Whatever they were though, she was still frightened of them … by how they looked, how they moved, how they had made her skin and stomach twist when the Doctor had placed them upon her throat. That they were drinking her blood even as she sat there trying to remain composed. Just thinking of the things in that moment stirred an intense nausea and revulsion within her.

Ariel's eyes never left the old sailor and his hand until she could no longer see the latter as it touched her neck, which might have alarmed her had he not continued to look at her reassuringly.

"An' how does ol' Hans know that? Why, a' cause Hans says it's so Princess."

A strange feeling descended upon Ariel as she realized that she could barely feel the man's fingers, for she could no longer feel the front of her own neck. The former mermaid began to tremble as new and fearful tears welled up in her eyes.

Hans though, seeing the change in the girl's composure, did his best to calm her. "Now, don' be afraid no more dear, we'll ha' these off in bu' a minute."

"Master Sael." Carlson's voice asked from behind. "If they are to be removed, should not the decision to do so be taken by the Princess and Prince together? They must bear the consequences, not you or I."

Hans looked up then back at Ariel who returned his gaze, tears beginning to well from her eyes. The man nodded. "Aye. Y'er right."

"Hans, are you sure about this?" Eric asked calmly from Ariel's side, still holding the girl to him.

As Eric spoke Carlotta returned to the room bearing a silver tray with a bottle of cognac and several white linen handkerchiefs piled atop it.

"Aye Eric, sure as can be, though tha' one does look ta be close ta' the' vein." Then looking back to Ariel, he continued. "Ol' Hans'll take good care wi' him." He smiled. "Now don' ya' worry dear."

A soft breeze wafted into the room from the open balcony windows, catching Ariel's hair slightly and blowing it across her face. Eric reached out and gently pushed the red strands of hair back behind his little mermaid's left ear as she stilled herself and watched, her body still trembling.

"Please take them off." She whispered, then stifling a mounting sob she continued, "Eric … I'm scared. I can't … I can't feel my neck."

"That's it then. Get them off of her." Eric said.

"Well, if you are going to do this, let me help." Carlson requested. "I know someth …"

"Gentlemen … would you please listen to me?!" It was Østerby.