Mermaid Pirate Dispatch

All was quiet. I shifted my weight to alleviate the pressure on my feet. I consciously checked my knees to ensure they weren’t locked. Many a good watchman had passed out after locking his knees. That wouldn’t be me, not tonight. I slowly drew in a deep, full chest of air, careful not to let my armor stir. I pulled my shoulders back and allowed a smile to crack on my otherwise stony face.

The queen’s tomb was beautiful. Crafted from the finest materials in all the world by the kingdom’s most skilled craftsmen, the tomb would surely be a national treasure for centuries to come. She was the most beloved ruler in our collective memory. Soft and patient with a kindly face, she had ruled with strength and valor. Her acts of bravery in defending the kingdom were legendary. Her skills in negotiations and diplomacy were unmatched. Her beauty was renown in ways that bordered on mythical. Many a prince and king had traveled from every corner of the world to seek her hand in marriage, but she had never wed. Her closest advisors claimed it was because she never found a suitor who would be a good fit for the kingdom. Now I gazed down at the carving of her gentle, peaceful face on the lid of her tomb and I wondered if perhaps she had never found true love and so had been cursed to die alone.

I sighed. Sympathetic tears gathered in my eyes and when I blinked I felt one trickle along the side of my nose. I knew what it was to be alone, but I could not comprehend the feeling of dying alone. She had always been so personally kind to me, smiling at me in passing and treating me with a warmth and care that made other guards jealous. I sniffled softly in my loneliness.

Again I straightened my back and puffed up my chest. I was proud to be one of just three royal guards appointed to watch over her tomb in this turbulent time. The departed queen’s family was squabbling endlessly for control of the kingdom despite the queen’s wishes that a parliament be assembled in order to enact a more democratic government. The parliament had convened two days ago and their arguments still pounded through the great oak doors that held them in the castle’s great hall. I had walked by on occasion and…

Thump. I jumped and quickly drew my sword.

“Ow.” A muffled voice groaned. It sounded like it came from behind the tomb.

My excited heart rattled in my chest as I whirled around and scanned the throne room. I kept my stance wide and my sword at the ready as I circled around the gilded marble and jewel trimmed sarcophagus. Candle light danced off the finely cut precious stones, catching my eye as I scanned for whatever thief, conspirator, or prankster was lurking in the shadows.

The tomb’s lid budged a little, accompanied by a smooth grinding sound. I heard a feminine, gentle voice grunting.

“Who’s there?” I commanded, completing a circle around the tomb.

“Help me get out of here,” the muffled woman said, straining. Granite scraped against granite again.

I looked and saw that the lid seemed to be moving on its own. I gasped and stared at the great and beautiful covering as it inched longwise toward the foot of the tomb. I rushed to the head and saw fingertips reaching out through a narrow gap, grasping at the edge of the lid.

“My queen!” I exclaimed, quickly sheathing my sword. I moved to the side and grabbed the top portion, planting my feet firmly on the polished stonework floor.

With a few coordinated exertions, we managed to slide the lid back enough for the queen to slide up and sit. She was holding a spot on her forehead and squinting. The room was dimly lit by an array of candles as part of the ongoing vigil. In the dim light, she looked exceptionally beautiful for a dead woman.

She groaned, still rubbing her forehead. Then she pulled her hand away and inspected it, still peering through the narrow slits of her mostly closed eyelids.

I stared at her. My chest could barely contain my heart or excitement. It was as though horror and elation were waging war inside me, and all I could manage to do was gawk at the reanimated corpse of my beloved queen. Suddenly my senses seized hold of me and my armor rattled as I fell to a knee, bowing my head.

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Rise,” she ordered. Her tone caught me off guard. Was she annoyed at me?

I struggled to my feet, my knees shaking and faltering under less weight than I had carried into dozens of battles.

She looked me up and down quickly. There was a subtle bruise on her forehead. I had seen the flesh of many dead bodies before, and her flesh was nothing like that of the dead. She was vibrant and glowing, as though freshly awakened from an afternoon nap. Her eyes locked with mine and she stared at me full of puzzlement and curiosity. Then her eyes widened and her jaw went slack. “You!” she cried, recoiling. “You!”

“Me, your highness?” I choked breathlessly. I staggered back.

“Why did you betray me?” She clasped a hand to the exposed skin of her chest, just above the plunging neckline of her burial gown. Her soft lips remained parted out of shock and she waited for my answer impatiently holding her breath.

Neither of us moved. My mind reeled. Betray her? I was among her most faithful guards. I opened my mouth to protest with those exact words, but something in her eye stayed my tongue. It wasn’t just surprise and expectation that contorted her face. Tears warbled in her eyes, longing twisted her brow, and sadness had abated her breath.

Her hand fell toward me from her breast and she extended it, palm up. “How could you keep your love from me these many years?”

“I…” My lips trembled. “I always loved you,” I whispered.

“I know,” she replied, her voice shaking. “So why didn’t you act on that love?”

“I did!” I gasped. “I served you with all my heart until the very end.”

“I didn’t want your service,” she sobbed through a pained smile.

“I didn’t know. How was I to know? I was your royal guard.”

“You saw the way I looked at you,” she said. “We exchanged many a warm smile in the halls of this castle, in the hunting fields, and on the numerous roads of our travels.”

“Yes, but…” My voice trailed off. “How could I have known? It would have been a great risk to me and my career to…” A pang of regret cut deeply into my heart and I was left too breathless to speak. My eyes were stinging and I felt a burning behind my face.

The queen’s eyes fell. “Indeed, I am in part to blame.”

I began to stagger toward her, reaching a hand to take hers.

She pulled back. “You cannot touch me,” she warned.

I stopped short. “Why?” I asked, tears streaming down my face.

She shook her head and smiled with the hurt of heartbreak. “I’m sorry that I was too cowardly to tell you how I felt.”

The thumping of my heart echoed in my head. “No,” I whispered. “No…”

Overhead a powerful beam of light fell down on the queen as though the heavens themselves had parted. I shielded my eyes with a forearm and stumbled back, squinting against the harshness of the blinding light.

Her voice came again, this time distant and penetrating deep in my core. “I love you.”

I sobbed, fluids leaking out of every part of my face. I could feel the light against my skin like a steady, clean wind. Its intensity somehow increased and I closed my burning eyes, gasping and weeping and moaning in agony.

At last the light faded. In place of its brilliant intensity there was emptiness and darkness. All was still. I slowly opened my eyes and lowered my arm. Once my eyes had adjusted to the dark I could see that the queen was gone. I rushed to the opening in the tomb and looked inside, but it was empty. I glanced frantically around. I was alone.

I heard the echo of a thump as the throne room doors were opened. They creaked and I heard footsteps. A couple of robed monks shuffled in, hurrying along with purpose. When they arrived they both stared at me and the partially open tomb, looked at each other with wide eyes, and rushed to the opening by my side. One of them spoke. “What have you done with the queen’s body?”

Too stunned to speak, my mouth hung open without offering anything of value.

“What manner of conspiracy is this?” the other monk asked, glaring at me.

Determined to defend myself, I once again opened my mouth to speak, but I could not make a sound. Nothing would issue forth from my throat but hollow air. I put a hand to my neck and tried again. Nothing. I patted it, squeezed it, moved it about. No sound. I began to panic.

“Go,” one said to the other. “Fetch guards to arrest this traitor.”

I put a hand on his shoulder, shaking my head. Tears flowed again. I pleaded with him through my eyes and the pain in my face.

The other monk hesitated. I looked at him, still bearing my pleadings in the slant of my brow and the tears on my cheeks.

“Go,” the first said again.

I fell on the carved likeness of the queen’s body, throwing my arms around her while I waited for the guards to come and arrest me.

[Reddit Post]