A Mermaid's Cry

Chapter 10-What is a Choice?

Ares carried me back along the gratefully deserted village path. Macaws and parakeets chatter in the canopy above, while snakes and beetles slither away into the safety of the undergrowth. Water runs down my sand covered legs, dotting the roots that poke out of the dirt like knobby fingers.

All the while I pick at the frayed edges of my apron, and then switch to counting my necklace beads. Distracting myself from Ares's warm skin, and how he holds me in a way that makes me want to melt. Branches and ferns sway against the wafting breeze, sending cold into my legs through my wet dress.

We don't speak at all. Not even when Ares ducks behind a tree, hiding us from a gaggle of female Mer with aprons full of shells to turn into bracelets, rings, or ridiculous crowns. I catch a glance of his face as they skitter past. Irritation, and a bit of anger clouds his face. It seems I'm not the only one who despises those waterlogged pests.

Unbiddenly, I find a spot of mud on the tip of his chin. Long grown instincts from taking care of my brother, act of their own accord. My hand takes a clean spot of my apron, and gently wipes away the brown smear off his skin. He stiffens, and he quickly looks from the offending apron to me.

Those orbs of green, green as jungle grass and the tail of an eel. Take in my quickly furrowing brow, irritation like his for those females, etching into my face. I pull back my hand swiftly, firmly placing it against my stomach. Out of his reach, if only for the moment. Thankfully he ignores my blatant rebuttal, quickly carrying on back to walking towards Elder Isolde's hut.

I'm grateful her hut lies on the edge of the village. She had once told me she liked it this way. The quiet was peaceful, allowing her old ears to hear the sounds of the animals, and befriend the many creatures that would have others sent running.

As expected, the wise Elder is already on the porch. Seated upon her stool, smoking her pipe with a knowing grin lighting up her face.
"Ah, there you are child," she drawls, calm and sure as a stately palm. "I congratulate you on not totally tearing him limb from limb."

Ares's hold on me suddenly tightens at her remark. Except, he does not dare rebuke her. She is our shaman, our elder whose knowledge is valued more than that of the chief. Even his son does not dare disrespect her, or her words that are sharper than spears.

"It wouldn't have been wise Madame Elder," I reply, while running my fingers back and forth against my necklace.

"Indeed child," Isolde adds, standing up from her stool and opening the hut door. "If you would Ares, Corintha I believe needs tending to."

Ares simply nods, and makes his way up the stairs with me sequestered in his grip. Ushering us in, Isolde pulls back the front curtains and closes the door. Immediately, I feel low and filthy inside her clean home. The carpets I cleaned, now slowly become wet from the water dripping off Ares and I.

"Place her over here," Isolde says, gesturing to a freshly made up cot of old sail cloth and jungle wood. Briskly, Ares heads over to it and sets me down on the scratchy covering. I don't object, now that I'm out of his hold that has me confused and angry all at once. As shaman, Isolde is also our healer and with that she quickly makes a healing ointment for my feet.

Ares sits down at the table, his eyes following the elder as she takes down hanging herbs and plants from the ceiling. Into a pot she throws in leaves, water, and a pinch of salt. Her brown gnarled fingers mix the dark green paste with swift movements. Her practiced hands not even spilling a drop.

"I wish to apologize Madame for leaving my work," I mumble, as she walks over and begins to apply the ointment.

Elder Isolde chuckles, and pats my hand like a child before going back to her task. "Darling Corintha," she croons, her voice melodic but serious. "You finished at least three days of work for my mate. Including a week's worth of firewood for me, child you need to rest and not push yourself so foolishly."

"But Grandmother-" I start, before I'm cut off by a harsh low laugh from Ares.

"Your Grandmother can't know what none of us tell her," he says, the mischief in his eyes from before now removed for that of cold stark anger.

I shake my head, and close my eyes as the numb feeling of the paste enters the soles of my feet. Isolde's gentle but firm hands, begin wrapping scraps of cloth bandage around my feet. One by one, knotting the bandages on the top of each foot.

"Except she will find out," I drawl, staring him down as Isolde puts away her pots and herbs.
"She always does. Like she always plans. Now thanks to you she plans my future."

Confusion for once, shrouds his face and wiping away the arrogance. "What do you mean?" he whispers, standing up from the chair on lean sand dusted legs.

"May I tell him dear," Isolde says, turning from the counter with two steaming cups of tea in her hand. I nod, fisting my hands into my dress as she ushers for Ares to sit down. Gently, she places the small wooden cup into his slender hands. Then, on quiet feet she comes over to me and takes my hands and places the other cup in between them.

"Madame Dalara has always been a meddler," Isolde begins, setting down into the seat opposite Ares. "She meddled to get her daughter married to Corintha's father. So that she could have the prestige of having a child married to such an esteemed warrior. True they were happy together, but she hovered over them like a fly over a carcass."

"Even after her grandchildren arrived, she was insatiable. Keeping an eye on her daughter and mate, lest they bring shame on their own house. But now that the noble Elias is gone, she has started to meddle again."

Isolde glances over to Ares, firmly placing a hand on his. Gentle worry lines her face, her lips pressed into a thin grim line. "Word has gone round that you carried her granddaughter home," she says, softly and resigned.

"She will use this against you and her. She will take away your right to choose, especially Conritha's. Listen to me young man when I say this, don't let this woman force your choice. But above all I ask you, protect Corintha's right to choose as well, or she will surely force you together at the expense of her granddaughter's happiness."