The River Maid Page 15

  He nodded, his head down. “You’re right. I’ve caused enough pain already.”

  His mother pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I will leave you to get some rest.”

  Christian sat staring into the fire. If he shut his eyes he could see Lorelei, tears running down her face, stepping back off the cliff. She had been in the water too long now. If they found her, they wouldn’t find her alive. He closed his eyes and put his face in his hands. She had been so happy that night. He could still see her smiling up at him as she danced, her eyes shining with happiness. But Lorelei was dead. There was no way she could have survived in the water. She must be dead and it was all because of him.

  He had to get out of the castle. Under orders from his mother, his valet refused to help him dress when he summoned him. He sent the man away and set about trying to dress himself. He struggled to bend his arm to get his shirt on and it seemed to take forever to do up the row of buttons that ran down the front. His breeches were easier to get on, but he had to sit down as dizziness washed over him. He pulled on his jacket, but left off his stock and cravat. He wrestled his boots on and went down the stairs and out of the castle to the stables, making no effort to hide what he was doing.

  “Bring me my horse,” he ordered the first groom he saw. The boy froze, unsure of whether to obey Christian’s command or whatever order his mother had given to the servants. “I said bring me my horse.”

  The groom rushed off to do his bidding. He shouldn’t have been so harsh on the boy, but since the ball a dark cloud seemed to hover over him that he couldn’t shake off. This was the second time he had nearly drowned in the river only to find himself saved.

  The boy saddled his mare and led her out. The mare nickered on seeing Christian and danced to the side, eager to be free. He stroked her velvet nose and then tried to pull himself up into the saddle, but he didn’t have the strength to mount. Exhausted, he rested his forehead against the leather, panting from the effort. He tried again to heave himself up and fell back down.

  “Do you want some help?”

  Christian looked up. Gaspard had appeared behind him and the groom was now saddling a second horse.

  “Are you going somewhere?” Christian asked, still leaning against the horse.

  “I thought I might go for a ride.”

  “You hate riding.”

  Gaspard lifted Christian’s leg and boosted him into the saddle. Feeling shaky and weak, Christian wrapped his hands around the reins as he waited for Gaspard to mount. Gaspard took his horse over to the mounting block to mount; something Christian hadn’t thought to do.

  As soon as Gaspard had mounted, Christian kicked his mare into a trot. Gaspard hung back, letting Christian go his own way. The Frenchman knew Christian’s moods and he would know he wanted to be left to ride in peace. Christian cantered down the hill and along the riverbank, letting the horse run. Finally, he slowed the mare to a walk to let Gaspard catch up.

  “How can I live with myself, Gaspard?” he asked when the Frenchman stopped beside him. “When Lorelei is dead because of me?”

  “She chose to jump. You didn’t push her.”

  “You know what I mean. She killed herself because of me.”

  “So you think that you should have lied to her and said that you loved her?”

  “I should have found a better way to tell her.”

  “You cannot change what happened. You can only learn to live with it.”

  Christian shook his head. “I don’t know if I can.”

  Shouts came from the river. For a moment, Christian thought they had found Lorelei, but then he noticed the ship. Such a sight was common on the Rhine, but the crew appeared to be dropping a heavy bundle into the river behind the ship.

  “What are they doing?” Christian asked.

  “I don’t know,” Gaspard said, his face just as puzzled.

  Christian turned his horse and trotted further up the incline to watch from the cliff where Lorelei had jumped. Gaspard followed behind him. It gave him a clearer view of the river. From here he could see the rocks below. He was lucky he hadn’t been dashed against them.

  Gaspard - who could always be relied upon to carry such things with him - pulled out his spyglass from its leather case and raised it to his eye. “They’re pulling a net,” he said, one eye closed as he peered out. “They appear to be dredging the river.”

  “But why? What are they looking for?”

  “Whatever it is they appear to have found it.” Gaspard took his spyglass away from his eye, frowning, before raising it again.

  “What do you see?” Christian asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  They watched as the net was slowly pulled in. Something appeared to be caught up and tangled in the rope, but Christian couldn’t make it out from this distance. Suddenly, Gaspard drew in a breath.

  “It’s impossible,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  Gaspard shook his head. “It can’t be.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Adrianna peered hesitantly out from her hiding place in the wreckage of a ship. Despite her concealment, she could feel eyes upon her, boring into her back. Fearing someone was behind her, she turned around, but there was no one there. She had stayed away from the cave, too afraid of coming across Lorelei in the narrow tunnel leading to it. She emerged cautiously and darted quickly up to the surface. She kept the cliff against her back as she scanned the ground, looking for any sign of Lorelei. The maid still had legs as far as Adrianna knew.

  High up on the cliffs, a figure cantered on a dark brown horse, perilously close to the edge. She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare. Relief washed over her as she recognised the prince. If he was out riding, then he must be well. He looked as if he was being chased by demons by the way he rode, with no regard for his safety. Gaspard followed behind at a more sensible pace. She wondered if the prince remembered seeing her that night or if he had forgotten their encounter. Some part of her wanted him to remember, but it was foolish. If he had seen her tail and seen what she was, he likely thought he had gone mad.

  She ducked under. A huge shadow appeared above her, blocking out the light, like a dark cloud passing across the sun. She had been so focused on the prince that she hadn’t seen a ship approaching. It was dragging something behind it. It was too late before she realised it was a net. She tried to swim away from it, but as she kicked out with her tail, her fins caught in the rope. She frantically tried to pull her tail free, but she only succeeded in tangling herself further. The net dragged her along behind the ship and then the net began to rise toward the surface as it was pulled in, taking her with it and lifting her up, out of the water.

  It was a shock being out of the water. Rope, thicker than her arm, dug into her, cutting into her skin. She swung suspended in the air for a moment before she was heaved over the side of the ship and onto the deck, where she fell in a heap, the rope a heavy weight on top of her, pinning her down. Between the coils of rope, she could see a pair of legs approaching. The rope was cut away and the weight lifted from her. She pushed herself up onto her hands. She lay on her back, her tail flapping uselessly. The crew surrounded her, staring at her in silence. One clutched a cross and said something in French. A man, who must be the captain by the way the sailors stepped aside, walked around her, inspecting her. He grabbed hold of her dress and pulled it up to her waist.

  “No, please don’t,” she said. She tried to pull it down and he slapped her. Stunned, she fell back. She tasted blood on her lip. She closed her eyes as her dress was yanked up. There were gasps and muttered prayers as they all looked at her exposed tail.

  “You understand German?” the captain asked. His grey eyes were hard and cold. There was no compassion or kindness there. A black unkempt beard covered the lower half of his face, while the hair on his head was iron grey.

  Adrianna nodded, her cheek throbbing where he had hit her.

  The captain gave an order in French
and gestured a man forward. The sailor shook his head and backed away. The captain spoke again, but the sailor refused to move. No one wanted to touch her, she realised. Eventually a stretcher was brought out and a soldier lifted her under her arms and dragged her roughly onto it.

  Two soldiers carried her below and into a cabin and tipped her out into a large metal bathtub, already half full with water. They disappeared, only to return with buckets of water from the river which they poured over her. Through the tiny round window, she saw the cliffs passing as the ship headed away from the town.

  The captain entered and nodded to the men and they left. She realised she was in his quarters. A large desk covered with maps and charts was bolted to the floor while her tub was in the very centre of the room. The captain went to the sideboard and poured a dark gold liquid into a glass. He walked around her, sipping his drink, his cold gaze on her tail. She had pulled her dress down to cover as much of her tail as she could, but she still felt vulnerable and exposed under his eyes.

  The fins that fanned out at the bottom of her tail stuck out of the water, draping over the side of the tub. He stroked them with a finger and she jerked her tail back at his touch.

  “Like touching a fish,” he said in German. He ran his hand along her tail and she tried not to shudder. “So warm. I thought it would be cold.”

  “Please let me go,” she begged. “I’m not a mermaid. I’m just a girl.”

  He smiled, amusement flashing briefly in his cold eyes. “My grandfather was a sailor. When I was young he would tell me stories about mermaids. How they would destroy ships and drag men down to their deaths. But you don’t seem to have any power. I was going to cut out your tongue; it’s said to be the source of a mermaid’s power, but I think I will let you keep yours.”

  “What do you want from me?” she asked.

  “What do I want? I only want what I deserve. What I’ve worked for. They thought I was crazy, but I will show them. I will show them all. I’m taking you to Paris, to the Emperor. The whole world will come and see you. You will be the jewel of the Empire and I will be wealthy beyond measure and then I will finally get what I deserve.”

  ~~~~~

  In the courtyard, Christian slid down from his horse and almost fell to the ground. Gaspard hurriedly climbed down from his own horse and put his arm around his shoulders. “I think we should get you back inside, my friend.”

  “I just need to sit down,” Christian said, but he let Gaspard take most of his weight and help him into the castle. His mother hurried down the stairs as they came in.

  “Is he hurt?” she asked Gaspard.

  “He just needs to rest,” Gaspard replied.

  Christian didn’t think he would have made it back to his bedroom without Gaspard’s help. Somehow, the Frenchman got him up the stairs and into his room, where he set Christian down on the bed.

  “You should have stayed in bed,” Gaspard said. He pulled Christian’s boots off and lifted up his legs.

  Christian fell back against the pillows, too exhausted to argue. He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eye again the room was in darkness except for a fire burning in the fireplace. Gaspard stood before it, a troubled expression on his face.

  “Have you been stood there all afternoon?” Christian asked, wincing in pain as he tried to sit up.

  “Someone has to make sure you don’t go wandering off.”

  Christian smiled weakly at his words, but Gaspard continued to gaze into the flames, worry creasing his brow.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Gaspard turned to face him. “I was thinking about the night that Lorelei jumped from the cliff. Do you remember what you saw?”

  “It was dark. I couldn’t see a lot.”

  “Do you still think that you saw Adrianna?”

  Christian hesitated, trying to recall that night. “I’m not sure. At first I was sure that I had seen her. I think she pulled me to the bank. But now… I don’t know.”

  “Do you remember anything else about that night?”

  He frowned. “What do you want to know?”

  “Did you notice anything strange about Adrianna when you saw her in the water?”

  He tried to think back. It had been dark, the water a black abyss beneath him. He remembered trying desperately to get to the surface. There had been something thick and scaly in the water with him. He tried to piece the images together, but his mind couldn’t make sense of it. He shook his head. “I can’t remember.”

  “The ship we saw earlier pulled something out of the water. I believe they have Adrianna.”

  “She’s dead, Gaspard. There’s no way she could have survived in the river all this time.”

  “I saw her through the spyglass. It was Adrianna. I’m sure of it.”

  Christian would have laughed, but his ribs hurt too much. “You can’t seriously believe that she’s alive?”

  “I know what I saw. I believe it was a French ship who took her. They flew no flag, but there were soldiers onboard wearing French colours.”

  Christian shook his head. Gaspard had gone mad. He had to be mistaken.

  Chapter Twenty

  A week had passed since the night of the ball and a shadow seemed to have fallen over the castle. Even the servants said little and carried out their duties in silence. There had been no sign of Lorelei. Rumours in the town said at first that Lorelei had thrown herself off the cliff because the prince didn’t love her, but now they had taken a darker turn. Some whispered that the prince had killed Lorelei after she rejected his advances and then thrown her body from the cliff. The three missing girls, one of whom had been found dead, had all disappeared after the prince had arrived at the castle. What had been taken before as coincidence now became evidence of his guilt. The townspeople recalled seeing the prince in the town the day they had found Jutta’s body. Perhaps he had disposed of it in the river and had come to make sure he wasn’t suspected. The townspeople went silent when Gaspard rode past and they looked at Christian with hostile eyes and muttered accusations behind his back. Gaspard feared what might happen, having seen during the revolution the violence that people can be driven to.

  Fortunately, Christian was oblivious to the rumours and gossip. Gaspard was worried about his young charge, but he didn’t want to share his concerns with Marie; it would only make her worry more. Christian had withdrawn into himself. The doctor said physically he had recovered, but he went out riding at first light and he didn’t come back until it was almost dark. Something troubled Gaspard as well. He hadn’t mentioned again to Christian what he had seen through the spyglass, but he kept dreaming of the French ship and seeing them lower the net onto the deck and cut away the rope. What he had seen afterwards was something that couldn’t be possible. He was sure it was Adrianna they had caught in the net. The more he thought about it, the more sure he became. But if it was Adrianna, she was no longer the girl he had known.

  “Christian won’t talk to me,” Marie said at breakfast that morning.

  Gaspard realised he had been ignoring her, too preoccupied with his own thoughts. “He’s lost, Marie. He needs time.”

  “I’m worried about him. Yesterday, he went riding in a thunderstorm. He came back soaked through. He could fall and break his neck the way he rides. It’s as if he wants to die.”

  “Not to die,” Gaspard said softly. “He wants to escape.”

  “We must do something before he hurts himself. I was hoping you would talk to him.”

  Gaspard knew there was nothing they could do. They had to let Christian find his own way to deal with this, but he nodded. “I will speak to him.”

  He knew where he would find him; on the cliff where Lorelei had jumped, staring out at the river. Christian sat on his horse, his collar turned up against the cold. He didn’t look up as Gaspard rode up beside him and reined in his horse.

  “Your mother is worried about you,” Gaspard said.

  “I know.” Christian sighed heavil
y and bowed his head. “I can’t stay here, Gaspard. Everywhere I look, I see her.”

  He didn’t need to know who he was talking about. “Where will you go?”

  Christian finally turned to face him. He looked surprised. “You’re not going to try and talk me out of it?”

  “Not this time, my friend.” He pulled out a package from his breast pocket. “I have something for you. I was going to give it to you on your birthday, but I never had the chance.”

  He handed it to Christian. Christian pulled off the brown paper to reveal a small leather bound book. “Don Quixote,” he said, reading the title stamped on the cover in gold letters.

  “Your copy was so worn. I thought you could do with a new one.”

  “Thank you.”

  Gaspard remembered the small boy he had first met all those years ago. He had been so lost, trying hard to be brave. He had that same lost look in his eyes now. Looking at him, Gaspard knew it would be some time before he saw him again. He hoped he found his way back to them.

  The next day, just as Gaspard sat down to breakfast, Marie burst into the room. “Christian is gone. The servants say he rose before dawn and left. You have to go after him. If you hurry you can catch him.”

  Gaspard sipped his tea and then set his teacup down. “I thought he might leave.”

  “You knew! Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “It was his choice to make. He needed to get away. He couldn’t stay here any longer.” He steeled himself for what he was about to say. “I have to go away as well.” Marie sank down onto a chair, her hand at her throat. He rose and took the chair next to her and gently took her hand in his. “There’s something I have to do.”

  He wanted to trace that ship. He had seen something through the spyglass. Something that couldn’t be true. He had tried to dismiss what he had seen, but he couldn’t put it from his mind. He remembered the story he had heard from the sailor in Koblenz, who claimed to have seen a mermaid in the river.