“What did you tell him?” I wondered.
She laughed. “I think you will see the results soon enough. Come, walk with me. We have much to talk about and although we have time, we do not have a great deal of it.”
We walked out towards the front of the boat. I was kind of curious to get to the back to see what was going on with Kerrass and Ciri back there but she led me to the front, away from the waiting crowds and more into the darkness.
We came to the prow of the ship and stood next to each other in relatively comfortable silence. I remember realising this and marvelling at the fact that I was as comfortable with this strange, supernatural woman as I was with Kerrass or some of my closer friends from Oxenfurt University days. I got the feeling that I could enjoy a nice pint of ale with this woman and we could talk about nothing for hours or sit while we read or work on papers. I stress that this was not in a romantic way, but in a restful, friendship kind of way.
And for the record, I do enjoy sitting with Ariadne but there is still a kind of awkwardness that exists between us. It's not that that awkwardness is uncomfortable or unpleasant, it's more that it's kind of adorable.
We catch each other's eyes and giggle at the tension. Especially when her chaperones are around.
I laughed suddenly.
“What's so funny?” She asked, her own amusement twinkling in her eyes.
“I'm a scholar.” I told her. “I have so many questions but I have no idea where to begin.”
“Ah,” she chuckled knowingly. “The curse of the learned man is to know how little he knows.”
“I thought that that saying was something about wise men.”
“You mean that A wise man is wise because he is aware of how little he knows.”
“Something like that.” I responded.
She thought about it. “That always struck me as being a little bit unfair.” She decided. “I think there is paralysis there. If there is so much to learn then where do you start. As you have so recently discovered. Would you like some advice?”
“Yes please.”
“Start small. Ask a small question first.” She linked her arm through mine and we stared out into the tunnel that would eventually lead out into the sea.
“Very well.” I answered. “Who are you?”
She laughed in delight. In the same way that Kerrass has a way of smiling that is almost as communicative as words, this woman seemed to be able to do the same with her laughter. Except there was no warning or fear in what she was telling me. Only warmth, amusement and affection.
She was a hard woman not to like.
“I thought I told you to start small. One of the most basic of questions.” She answered. “Followed neatly by “What do you want?” as the two questions that can tell you just about everything that you would need to know about a person.”
“I'm sorry to interrupt,” I told her, “But you told me that we do not have a lot of time.”
“And I was right, but time is relative. Who am I? I will tell you but you will not like the answer. I am Life-in-Death.” She said it as one word.
“I do not understand.”
“Nor would I expect you to. Do not worry yourself about that.”
“Why do I feel as though I know you?” I followed up.
“Because you do know me. We have met before but no-one ever remembers the first time that we meet. We are old friends you and I.”
“Then why don't I remember you?”
She smiled up at me. “Because no-one ever remembers being born. The next time we meet will be more memorable I assure you.”
I stared at her for a long time “Who are you?” I asked again.
She laughed at my face. “I told you you wouldn't like the answer. I am Life-in-Death. Or that is what they will call me when all of this is written down. The truth is more complicated than that but at the same time, the name is accurate. I don't have many names, unlike my brother who seems to pick them up from everywhere.”
“Is that your brother back there?” I asked gesturing towards the back of the ship. The tall figure in the black cloak was talking to Ciri, the conversation appeared rather animated. Kerrass was a little distance away, leaning on the rail with his head bowed.
“No. That is not my brother. If it helps, think of him as a colleague.”
“You don't sound as though you like him very much.”
“He doesn't get it. He is one side of a two-sided coin but cannot see the other.”
“Who is he?”
“He is Death.”
“I don't understand.”
“It is easier to explain his function than it is to explain mine. He is another world's version of your Lion-headed Spider. When the end of a life comes through sickness, happen-stance or any of the other things that might be going on. He is the one who come to change a person from being a living person, to being a dead person.”
“He kills them?”
She smiled, a little sadly. “No. The killing is already done. He is about shifting one state and into another.”
“So where do you come in?” I felt as though I was drowning.
“I transport the souls from life to death and back again.”
“But that would mean.... My head hurts.”
“Don't fight it Freddie.” She said kindly.
“But does that not make the two of you the same thing?”
“Yes.”
“Then why is he over there and you are over here?”
“Because we both need to be seen in this instance. It is important that he is seen and that I am seen.”
As I watched, Kerrass lifted his head before he spun and stalked back to the cloaked figure and started speaking animatedly.
“Kerrass doesn't seem to like him very much.”
“That is because the gift of truth is very rarely received with gratitude. Truth is painful. You know this which is why you are skirting around the things that you really want to know about. ”
Kerrass was definitely unhappy. His movements becoming more violent.
“So you are going to tell me the truth?” I asked.
“I am.”
“Then why?”
She laughed again. If it had been anyone else I would have become angry at the mockery. But here and now, I grinned with her. “So now we get the most basic of questions. I do so love humans. What do you mean why? Why am I going to tell you the truth? You can answer that truth is subjective. This is true, but is there also an absolute truth? Yes there is. What is the difference? How can both be true?”
She took me by the arm and turned me so that I was no longer watching the argument between Kerrass and the cloaked figure.
“The first answer is that I will tell you the truth because you deserve it. Because it is the last of your desires at this moment.”
“But...”
“You are going to marry the woman you love. She is not quite the woman of your dreams but no-one marries the person that they dream about. That would be a terrible idea. You are already so rich that it makes no difference. But you are rich enough to know that you never have to worry about money again. Which is a privilege that few have.
“You have your health. There are a few wobbles but you are marrying a Sorceress of vast, if not limitless, power who is also a doctor of considerable skill, and you can expect to live a long life. You have friends who love you and who you love. You are literally living your best life. We both know that you are not quite ready to give up being on the road yet so what else could you want? What else do you want?”
“Peace.” I told her. “Certainty.”
“And as you recently told one of those friends that you care about a great deal. Certainty is an impossible thing. There is no such thing except in the minds of madmen. Doubt is good, doubt is healthy until you let it cripple you. So what do you want?”
I sighed and chuckled a little at myself.
“I feel like I'm back at University, being particularly stupid.”
“We all have that feeling from time to time.”
“Even you.”
“Well, no. Not me. But I have made mistakes.” She squeezed my arm in a hug. “What do you want Freddie?”
“You are right of course. I want, I need the truth.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Does Ariadne love me?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Is she alright?”
“She will be. She is worried for you.”
“Who are you again?”
“I am Death. I am Life. I am Life-in-Death.”
“So you know when I will die?”
“I do. As well as all of your friends and all of their friends and on until the end of time. When the Ice has claimed your world and the fire has consumed theirs.” She gestured at the sailors of the Skeleton Ship. “I will be there and when the Universe finally ends then it will be me that closes the place down ready for the new one to begin.”
That took a moment to process.
“Wow.” I said, hating the inanity of the word.
She just laughed. My mind could not wrap itself around the fact that the young and pretty woman that was stood next to me might be someone of such awesome power.
“So?” I prompted.
“So what?”
“So when will I die?”
“Oh no.” She told me with a giggle, waving her hands in front of her as if to ward off something comically unspeakable. “I have fallen for that trap before and it never ends well.” Her mirth subsided as she stared into the distance. I thought that she looked at a memory. “All mortals want that answer. But I am not so cruel as to give it.”
I nodded my acceptance of that declaration. “And who is he again?”
“He is the Death of another world. How that world thinks of death. Think me only without the charm, grace and good looks.”
“And would he answer that question?”
“He would for he is far more terrible than I am.”
“So he is more powerful than you.”
“Yes. But without me, he is nothing. And he knows that too.”
“Sorry, I'm lost. Which of you is more powerful again?”
She laughed.
“Does he fear you?” I asked.
“No. What is to fear? We are the same.”
“But....”
“Think of us more as colleagues. Clerks that work at the next desk from each other. You really should ask the question that you really want to know the answer to.”
“Another person chastised me for dodging those questions.” I told her after a long moment.
“I know.” She told me.
“His name was Jack.”
“I know that too.”
“I check because you are wearing the same stuff.”
“Oh you mean my top hat and tails? Do they not suit me?”
She did a twirl.
“No they do, but can you understand why I might be worried about all of the similarities between you and he?”
“Pffft.” She waved those worries off. “He would be flattered that you would think of the two of us as being in the same kind of environment. He is a being of power, yes, but he is also.... well.... Jack. He serves his purpose. But he and I are nothing alike. For a start, I am much prettier than him.”
“I am not going to dispute that.” I told her
“You say the sweetest things.” She grinned. “But just because two people are saying the same thing, does not mean that I am the same as him, or that he is the same as me. But rather, the two of us had conversations with the same person. That person being you. So it is not surprising that we would have the same observations. Not really.”
I accepted that point before taking a deep breath.
“Do you know what happened to my sister?”
I felt a small, cool hand reach up and cup my face so that she could turn my face to hers. “Yes.” She told me.
“What happened?”
“I cannot tell you.”
I took a deep shuddering breath in an effort to control my rage. “Cannot, or will not?”
“Both.” She told me gently. “Would you like to know why?”
I bit back a sob. “Yes.”
“Because you already know the answer.” She said gently. “You already know everything that you need to know. You already have all the information, but you will not see it. Which is why I cannot tell you it. You know where she is and you know who took her. But you will not allow yourself to see the truth of the matter.”
“Why would I do such a thing?”
“Because humans are really good at protecting themselves from horror.” She told me. “But that was a good question.”
“Thank you.” I said automatically. “It wasn't as though I planned it or anything.”
She pulled me into a gentle hug as I sobbed for a bit as the disappointment struck me in the soul.
She pulled away first. “You have more questions though.” She told me.
“I do.” I admitted. “Why are you talking to me instead of him,” I gestured over my shoulder again. “You know, the other you?”
“Now you're getting it.” She responded. Giving me a teasing punch on the arm.
“Not really.” I told her. “But why am I talking to you while Ciri and Kerrass are talking to him.”
“Because they are Witchers.” She responded. “And they belong to him. While Helfdan and yourself, belong to me. The two of you, Helfdan and yourself will be remembered long after Ciri and Kerrass are dead and gone.”
“So Kerrass will die before me?”
“He will. It will break your heart but you will recover. You should remember that when the time comes. It will be the last lesson he has to teach you.”
“I am not looking forward to that.” I said as I contemplated this truth.
“Nor should you. But you will predecease Ariadne. That will break her heart instead for that is the lesson that you must teach her. You would do well to prepare her for that end.”
“Nor do I like that thought.” I admitted.
“You would not be who you are if you did.”
“So you cannot tell me where my sister is?”
“No.”
“Nor can you tell me too much about the future I'm guessing.”
“No. As I say, I am not that cruel.”
“Then can you at least tell me what is going on here? With Lennox, the ship and everything.”
She grinned. “That I can do. Or at least, I can tell you some of it.”
I stared out into the yawning darkness for a while. “Sorry.” I heard myself say. “I was honestly expecting there to be more refusals there.”
“Why?”
“Because I am sick of people being cryptic at me. If you know everything... Do you know everything?”
She shrugged.
“Ok,” I went on. “Then I will assume that you know everything. Or everything that is useful and worth talking about anyway. So you will know that I went off to speak to the Berserkers.”
“I remember that yes.”
“So do you know what they told me?”
“I do, but I sense that you need to get this out of your system so I'm just gonna stand here and let you speak.”
“They told me fuck and all.”
“Living embodiment of Life and Death over here and I'm just standing here letting you...” She muttered with a slight smile
“And they weren't the first ones to do that either. The Druids sent me on a wild goose chase. I know, I should blame that piece of human waste that is now being tied to the mast. But he wasn't the only one. The Unicorn spun me a tale of armies fighting across time and space in a war over things that I do not understand and cannot possibly comprehend. What fucking use is that?”
“Just standing here.” She was no longer even pretending to hide her smile.
“I search. I look. And when I find anything at all, or I'm actually in the position to ask someone that might actually know something.” I gestured at her. “I get cryptic nonsense. Even my greatest enemies...”
“That you know of.” She put in.
“That's a comforting thought.”
“I aim to please.”
“But even my greatest enemies,” I stopped and looked at her, “that I know of....”
“Thank you.”
“Think it's funny and point out that they had nothing to do with it. I mean, Flame Dammit.” I stopped talking as I realised that I was getting frustrated with a being that could kill me with a thought.
“I could.” She said, answering my unspoken thought. “But why would I want to?”
“I dunno.” I sighed. “A fit of pique.”
“That's not. I am not capricious. I do not play games, unlike him over there.” Her mouth twisted in distaste. “Speaking personally, I've never been a fan of chess but it seems to be all he talks about. Also poker. Word to the wise. Offer to play him at strip poker. All he has on are his sword belt and his robe but be prepared for what happens when you win. But I do not get angry. I do not get frustrated or seek to take people earlier. It is not a game, or a dance or a... a competition. I am not your enemy but neither am I on your side. I simply am.”
“Then why won't you tell me what I need to know about Francesca? Or if I already know, as you claim, then why won't you give me the key to figuring it out. Why won't you help me?”
She turned around and pushed herself up onto the rail so that she sat, her legs dangling as she kicked the air absently.
“There are two answers to that.” She told me. “Neither of them will please you.”
“Because I've enjoyed so much of this conversation so far.” They say that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit. But it can be the most satisfying.
“I am hurt. Not even my sparkling wit and repartee?”
“Ok, first of all. I don't know what repartee means.”
“It's a French word.” She told me. “It means “conversation in which clever statements and replies are made quickly”.”
“Then secondly, Where's French?”
“Never mind. It couldn't possibly matter less.”
“And therefore thirdly. Of course, your presence has made this entire situation bearable,” I bowed. Being mean to her felt a little like kicking a puppy accidentally when the puppy just wants to play with you.
“You say the sweetest things.”
“But that doesn't change the point. This conversation has just been confusing really.”
“It will make more sense the more you look back at it.”
“That is not reassuring. For instance. “Oh, she was telling me that this person was going to stab me repeatedly in the face.” That realisation is not going to do me much good later when the person is about to, or has already stabbed me.”
“Temper.” She chided.
“What are the two answers?”
“Two answers?”
“You know. The two answers as to why you won't help me.”
“Ah yes, those two answers.”
“I also notice that you've made me smile and therefore less angry so that I won't get too upset when you tell me these things.” I informed her.
“You noticed that did you?” she made a sly expression.
“The occasional benefits of a noble education. It does happen occasionally where something that my tutors gave me comes through.”
“Now who's diverting the conversation.”
I glared at her, to which, the self-proclaimed personification of life and death responded by sticking her tongue out at me.
“The first answer is that you don't want me to give you a proper answer.” She told me. “You want to figure it out yourself.”
“I do.” I admitted. “I really do. But I also want to get to the bottom of this. I need to get off the road now. I need to be getting ready to be married and this is all getting too much.”
She stared at me for a long time.
“Liar.” She decided.
“What?”
“You no more want to stop travelling with Kerrass than you want to set Ariadne aside and you will do neither until and unless someone or something forces you to that end. It's in your blood now, in your mind and in your body. If you stopped, you would yearn for it. In the same way that you sometimes yearn for a soft bed and a home-cooked meal, you would yearn for hard ground, the smell of damp leaves on the air and the taste of clay-baked rabbit.
“You should stop. You know that and I agree with that. But you don't want to, not really. You want to keep going. You want to keep travelling until there is nothing left to see and do and then you will want to do it all again to see if the experience is different the second time round or to see if the time and circumstances have changed the way you see it all.
“And just suppose. Just suppose that someone else found your sister. Just suppose that some Imperial Guardsman found her in a ditch somewhere as her hostage takers realised who they had, slit her throat and dumped her in the ditch.”
“We know....”
“Yes yes, I know.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Ancient and Alien magic. Words that you received from an ancient and alien God who came to this world to die but instead found an old enemy.”
“Wait... What...?”
“Or how would you feel if it turned out to be a political thing. And it was careful negotiation and the exchange of hostages that brought an answer?”
“We would have heard something by now and....”
“You're not listening.” She snapped “How would you feel if it was something else? How would you feel if it turned out to be something simple? Something mundane that could be solved by someone else?”
“I would be disappointed. Of course I would.”
“So you don't want me to solve it for you. You don't want me to give you the answer.”
“Yes I do.” It was my turn to snap. “Yes I do. Because my feelings are immaterial in this. I want to be the one to rescue her. I won't deny that. I won't deny that I want her to be found at the bottom of some cave as the victim of some monster or cult or whatever the fuck. I want to untie her and hold her safe while Kerrass covers us. Or at the least, I want to be there while the Imperial forces hack there way in. Of course I want that. And if she's dead, of course I want to be the person that finds out who did it so that she can have justice. And yes, I will even admit that I want that to happen so that I can have vengeance.
“But I also want closure. For my family, for Ciri and all the other people that loved her. I want to prevent this from happening again but most of all. I want this to be done because she deserves it to be done. My feelings on the matter are unimportant. This hasn't just wronged me. It has and I am angry for that. But I hate that it happened to her. She deserves better so I would learn to live with my disappointment in order for that to happen.”
Stolen story; please report.
She smiled.
“You are a good man Freddie.” She told me. “But I'm still not going to give you the answers that you seek.”
“Why the fuck not?”
She laughed at the asperity that had crept into my voice. “You are... so very human.”
“You say that like it's a bad thing.”
“It's not. Generally speaking. I love humans, they live their lives so.... But I sense that you are growing impatient with tangents.”
“A little.” I admitted.
“So Here it is. I am not going to tell you because it would be too easy. Destiny can be a bastard sometimes and Destiny requires some things to happen in order for other things to happen.
“You describe Destiny as though it is a living being.”
“Isn't it? Do you believe in Destiny?”
“Of course not. I make my own fate.”
She laughed. “I shall tell him you said that the next time I see him. He will be.... Actually, he won't really care. You are correct in the main. There are many paths that a person can walk. Many many paths and, made up of all the choices that a person can make. But sometimes, just sometimes. Destiny needs to take a hand. Something needs to be done in order to make this person go this way or that way or make this choice or that choice. It is cruel sometimes but it is necessary.”
“If Destiny is a person, then the son of a bitch has a lot to answer for.”
“He might. But he also... He also sometimes permits reality to be steered for the better. Would you like an example?”
“I sense that you are going to make it anyway.” I was being sour. My mood not improved by the fact that I knew this.
“I am. As you are beginning to learn, I truly enjoy the sound of my own voice. And I don't get to use it too often. People, by their nature, don't really want to talk to me and when they do, they tend not to be able to do so for a particularly long time. And playing dice with a part of yourself can get very boring sometimes.”
“You were going to give me an example of things that have to happen.”
“Yes. Things sometimes need to happen in order for other things to happen. Everyone experiences this at one point in their life or another. Sometimes it might be a grand, life changing experience where they were talked into going to a party by a friend. They were tired, still hungover from the last party, ill, poor and all the other reasons why a person might not want to go to a party. But then they are persuaded and they meet the love of their lives there. That's an extreme example of course. But that is a thing that leads you from one place to another.
“Your brother spoke about this. About the powers of your world pulling the lives of people in one direction or the other.”
“Yes he did. But he described them as being general pulls and that that pulling could be dangerous.”
“And he is right. There is no denying that but his model is also a very simplistic one. Your world has magic in it. Which means that powers such as the Gods, the Spirits, even some ancestors are able to influence the lives of the people that walk upon the Earth. So here, in this particular plane of existence, this kind of interaction is more common. Much more common than you would like to think. Sometimes, these actions are just setting something up for further down the road. A man meets a woman in order to produce a child. That child meets another child of another couple that were put together for that same purpose and the child is made furious by the thing that takes place. That fury drives them into the army where they are tasked to fight bandits. They kill a set of bandits so that a man is saved which means that the child of that man is raised with love rather than anger and a sense of obligation and that man writes the next great work of fiction. Or creates the art that changes the world. Or becomes an important politician. Or becomes an evil so black and terrible that he unites the world against himself.
“And on and on it goes.
“You have to go through all the jumps, all the hoops and all the tasks. And then you must record the story of what happens to you so that others can learn from your experiences. Incidentally, that is what will keep you alive, long after your body has died and your soul has moved on. And that is why you belong to me and not to him.”
She gestured at stern of the ship.
“But another example. Which brings us to this ship and the man that you found.”
“Yes, why him? What did he do?”
“He killed the Albatross.”
“You say that as though it's the beginning and end of the entire situation.”
“That's because it is.”
“But that makes no sense. He was cursed long before that.”
“That is also true.”
“But how can he be cursed before he killed the Albatross. He hadn't killed the Albatross yet. He was driven into the state where he would kill the Albatross.”
“Correct.”
“So was that a separate curse?”
“No. He was cursed because he killed the Albatross.”
I just stared at her.
“You are struggling with your limited understanding of how time works.” She told me with a smile. “That's alright and you shouldn't beat yourself up about any of that.”
She sighed and her vacant expression came back.
“His world needs a warning. It will be a warning that they will ignore, but it needs a warning nonetheless. No-one else would kill the Albatross. No-one else would do that. Only him. He was a lesson made manifest. He was cursed because he killed the Albatross. He was taken to that place because he killed the Albatross and when he leaves here, it will be because he killed the Albatross.”
“But why is that such a big deal? He was hungry, he could have needed something to eat. People kill animals all the time for food, clothing and all of the other things that come with that.”
“That is true. But they do not do so with such hatred in their heart. The vast majority of people understand that if you attack a bear then the bear is going to fight back. If you stumble across a Wolf den, then the Wolf will protect her cubs. To the death if necessary. It is the nature of the animal. If you get bit by the snake after you stand on it. Are you angry at the snake?”
“Of course not.”
“Because that is the snake's nature. You don't hate the animal for obeying it's nature. Even if it was just a normal creature...”
“Which it wasn't.”
“.... I will leave that alone for now. But even if it was just a normal creature. It was just flying. It was certainly not in any kind of competition with the ship for food and water. So why kill it? There was no reason other than what he felt and therefore what he decided to do. That is murder. That is not killing for food or for any of the other reasons that a person might kill an animal. That is just murder and even worse. He did it with hatred in his heart. Even your world's relatively rudimentary understanding of how curses work would say that that Hatred would reflect back on the murderer.”
“That is true, but the punishment doesn't really fit the crime.”
“Since when is that a factor in these kinds of things. It was a curse. It's not to do with punishment. It's about the depth of the feeling itself.”
I took a deep breath. I felt pity in my heart again. For all his snivelling, cowardice and other factors that were keeping me angry with Lennox, it all seemed a bit harsh.
“Your pity does you credit.” She commented.
“Will you stop reading my mind.” I snapped, a little harsher than I had intended.
“I'm not.” She seemed unperturbed by my anger. “It's written all over your face.”
“That's not reassuring.”
“It should be. Pity is good. It shows Empathy and it is the lack of Empathy that is a danger to people in general. Especially for him. He hated that bird with a completeness that terrifies even me and I'm the living embodiment of transporting souls from the state of life to the state of death and back again.”
“But that didn't just curse him, or it didn't just damn him. It damned every single person on this boat.”
“Yes it did. But he did that. Not me. He did that with his Hatred.”
“I'm getting confused.” I was as well. I had that feeling that I used to get when arguing with Philosophy students when I was at University. That moment where you get that feeling that the person that you are talking to just simply knows more than you do.
I always hated that feeling.
“But he wouldn't have been there.” I tried again. “He wouldn't have been there if he hadn't been driven there in the first place. By the storm. By the ice and by all of the other things. I take it that he wasn't lying about all of that.”
“He wasn't. As I say, you're falling over the fact that, as a species, you still view time as being a linear thing.”
“It's not?”
“No. Ciri might be able to explain it better but if you think that your brains are dribbling out of your ears now. Wait until you talk about that with her.”
“She will enjoy that conversation.” I mused.
“She will.” The woman agreed.
“So he was cursed?” I tried again to find a way into this mess of confusion.
“He was.”
“But you said that all of this is necessary. Pre-ordained by Fate.”
“It is.”
“Why?”
“Because it wasn't just an Albatross.”
“What was it?”
“It was the Sea. The Oceans. As Ciri told you, That other world call Albatrosses the Gods of the sea. Because they are. One beat of their wings can propel them for miles. The situation was set up. It was known what kind of man he was and we offered him a chance. He was driven by the storm and the ice to the point where he was about to die. Then a creature of the Sea. An element of nature was offered out so that he could find a way to safety. Find a way home. And he killed that lifeline.”
“But you knew that he was going to do that?”
“Yes, it was expected. Not by me. I didn't care.”
“Then by whom.”
“By the Gods of that world. They had shaped him into their tool and they knew what he would do and how he would do it. He was their... instrument.”
“For what purpose?”
“To warn his fellow man.”
She turned to look at where Lennox was stood, despondent, tied to the mast. He was no longer shaking with the sobbing, but I thought I could detect those tremors.
“When the ship leaves here he will continue his journey. At the request of the Gods of that world I shall keep him alive long after he should have died. And then, at the last, as his body is consuming itself with hunger and thirst, he will let go of his hatred. He will let go of the poison that has infected his heart and soul for his entire existence and he will learn to love the sea and every creature that lives beneath the water and flies above it. And when he does, those creatures will accept him and love him for it. They will bring him food and water and his ship mates will rise from the dead and take him home.”
“They look as though they have already risen to me.”
“There's that comment about time again. But he shall be taken home and he shall be charged with telling all that he comes across about his tale. He will be a warning to those that come after him. He will speak well and concisely, holding nothing of his tale back including those parts that paint him in a bad light. Men shall call him “The Ancient Mariner.” He will sail many times more until perceived old age overtake him and then he will walk the sea ports of his land and continue to tell the tale until the Gods of the Sea give him respite and I am asked to take him.”
“I still think that this is cruel.” I told her. “Give him punishment for falling for a curse that they set him up for. It's like the thing.... A friend of mine was walking out with a young woman. They were both pretty young people and at a party. The boy had an exam the following morning so left early, encouraging the girl to stay. There was lots of alcohol and high emotion and the girl got drunk and ended up sleeping with a good friend. She woke up the following morning, realised what happened and ran back to my friend with tears streaming down her face to confess what had happened. She told him that she was sorry, that she was drunk, her sleeping partner was drunk and she just lost control of her actions.”
The woman said nothing.
“My friend was upset, how could he not be but he forgave his girlfriend on the grounds that they were young, hormones, alcohol and a party atmosphere were things that happened. She said that she was sorry and that she would never do it again. She didn't either and now they're married with children on the way and she has never given him cause to regret his decision. I was proud of my friend that day.”
“And so you should be. But let me ask you the follow up question. That is what she, and he did. Would you ever be in that position?”
“In what direction?”
“Leaving aside what you would do if Ariadne was ever unfaithful to you and what you would do...”
“It would depend on the circumstances I think.” I answered automatically. “I would be angry and upset but she's an elder Vampire who's been alive for hundreds of years and...”
“Now who's responsible for the tangents. But would you ever be in that position. Would you ever allow yourself to fall into bed with an attractive woman. You are still young, pretty attractive to the right kind of woman, and you are correct. Pheremones and alcohol are a powerful cocktail.”
“I would never be in that position.” I said. “If I was at a party with any women that I found attractive, I would control my drinking. I would never permit myself to be in that position.”
She looked at me levelly for a minute. “You're a good man Freddie but you assume that you would have a choice in the matter. But he is the same. He could have chosen not to shoot the Albatross.”
“But you knew he was going to do that.”
“We did.”
“So...... Arrrrrrrgggghhhhhhh.”
“It can take people that way sometimes. But it is necessary.”
A thought occurred to me.
“Then can I ask a personal question?”
“What's the question?”
“Why are you here? You're Death. Life... Whatever. Surely this is beneath you.”
“It is a little bit. But I am needed to be seen.”
“Why.”
“When he tells his story. There need to be moments that people recognise. Things that stay in the mind. My personal interaction is necessary to ensure that he stays alive long enough to fulfil his purpose. But I also need to be seen.”
“Why?”
“So that it can be emphasised just how important this whole situation is. Their world is going to die. Yours will freeze but theirs will burn. It will burn when people, like him.” She gestured at Lennox, “who don't care about things. Who actively hate the world or, even worse, only care enough to see what comfort they can wring from it when they think that that comfort is more important than the world that they live on. It's part of the symbology of the tale. They need to see that Death is part of that story. A vital part of that story. It will help it stick in the mind.”
“Not being funny. But one roving madman is not going to make much of a difference enough to change the world. Or are you doing this on several different areas.”
“Well there are two points. He doesn't need to be heard by everyone. He just needs to be heard by the right person. Maybe a century or so after making landfall at his home he will tell a wedding guest about his story. The Wedding Guest will be so taken by the story that he will be made late for the wedding itself. Another guest, a friend, will ask why he was late. This man will be a famous poet of his homeland and he will adapt the story into epic verse against the advice of his friends and his publishers. The story will be changed significantly of course, leaving out the most fantastical elements such as the world populated by Elves, Dwarves and Giants, but the essential message will be the same.”
“But epic poetry will only go so far. There are still some people that dismiss the works of the bard regarding the White Wolf, as being nothing more than more than mage propaganda. They insist that the White Wolf never existed despite the fact that he's a matter of record in many areas and is living quite happily down in Toussaint.”
“This is true. But you are thinking too small. You have to think in the terms of centuries and population in terms of the Billions. The poet will suffer the ultimate indignity for a poet.”
“Oh?”
“His work will be studied in school. But those school children that study the poem are the very same children that will be able to make a difference when the time comes. Presuming they can remember the lesson of the Ancient Mariner.”
I gazed at her levelly. “So all of that death. All of that pain, his not least.” I gestured at Lennox. “For a warning. To enact a curse in order to tell a story and to teach a lesson.”
“Yes. Lennox was required. He is still required. He was, is and will be the play thing of God, Gods and powers because they need someone or something like him. Such people cannot always be as kind and benevolent as whoever you are thinking about.”
“I thought you said that you were not that cruel?” I heard myself say. I maintain that I had no conscious thought in saying that because even as the words were coming out of my mouth I was screaming at myself. This person claims to be the living embodiment of life and death. Pissing her off is not the wisest thing I have ever done.
She smiled. “I'm not. But then again, I'm not a God. Gods are cruel, I simply am. The Gods of that world believe that this is necessary. They believe that this action will save Billions versus the Fifty or so men that die on the ship.”
“A lot more have died in our world.”
“Yes. But those Gods don't care about this world. Why would they. They gain no worship from here. They have no power here and they are never going to come here. So why care?”
“Our Gods might have something to say about it.”
“They might. They do even. But what are they going to do about it?”
“I don't know. But the way you speak is terrifying to me.”
She grinned. “Are you having existential questions? Nature of life, existence of Gods, What does it all mean kind of stuff?”
“I am. I hate these questions. I envy Kerrass and his, “so long as you can look yourself in a mirror” kind of outlook. I wish I could do that but one of the down sides of being educated is that I can see the questions. You speak as if the Gods are real and that you know them.”
“I do. We don't hang out or anything.”
I was confused. “What?”
“We don't have drinks or go to parties or....”
“Ok. I get it. But that is proof and proof denies faith.”
She smiled. “Would it help you if I told you that there is no such thing as God or Gods?”
“No.”
“Because both answers are true. It's a little easier here. As I say, Magic exists here so the question of faith is “Are they Gods or are they manifestations of Magic?” That is the question that your church scholars ask themselves rather than “Do Gods even exist at all.” Interestingly, I notice that none of those church scholars, or even the Elven scholars, have asked the Gnomes, Dwarves or any of the other races that made their homes here what they believe.”
“No, I can understand that.” I told her. “It's because they are afraid that they will be told the truth, thus denying the question. The Question is vital. The Question and the uncertainty is what makes life worth living. If we knew that the Gods existed and that we will be judged on our actions then we are no longer performing good deeds because we should be performing Good deeds. But if there are no Gods and no afterlife then what's the point in being good at all.”
“You're smarter than you look aren't you.”
“I'm not entirely sure how to take that.”
“You should take it as a compliment. You look pretty intelligent.”
“But you've distracted me again. You can't fool me.” I wagged my finger at her.
She snapped her fingers. “Darn.”
“So what are my Gods going to do about all of this death?”
“I don't know.” She said. “I suspect that there might be some harsh words exchanged when the next conjunction happens but that isn't going to be for a while yet so.... They might have forgotten. Or they might have died.”
I groaned.
“Sorry,” She said. “I said one of those things that shakes the nature of your existence again haven't I?”
“You're not sorry,” I accused. “You did that on purpose.”
“Guilty.” She admitted. “My point is, Gods are both creatures of the moment, and creatures of the Long term. The Gods in the world that Lennox is living in are much older. Therefore they can think Longer term. Your Gods are much younger. After all, You have only been here for the last four to five hundred years.” She paused and peered at me. “Freddie? Are you still with me?”
“Sorry, I was still thinking of the whole Gods dying thing.”
“What do you think happens when a God stops being worshipped. You ever think about all of those carved stones and wooden posts that you pass when you're riding down the road? Anyhoo. We're going to cut this short soon.”
“Why?”
“Because your brains are beginning to dribble out of your ears.”
I literally checked to make sure.
“It was a figure of speech.” She laughed. “Moron.”
“But this is cruel.” I told her. “Why is this happening? Are there not better ways to send a message. To warn people that bad things are coming. More definite, more finite, more certain.”
“And what messages will people listen to hmm?” Your Druids have been warning rulers about the dangers of over deforestation and over fishing for years now and they always get ignored. Your rulers say “When will the fish disappear? and the Druids say “At current rate, the country will run out of fish in six hundred years.” And the ruler replied. “Then come back in five hundred and ninety nine years and we'll do something about it.” Before having the Druids thrown out of the throne-room. Thus drowning out the Druid's cries of “It doesn't work like that.”
“There is not a warning that cannot be easily ignored by the people that rule. Not a single one. A prophet? Your own world has evidence of what can happen to prophets with Lebioda, Etibald, Ithline and the rest. They are either ignored, their message perverted and corrupted beyond all recognition, or made a figure of ridicule. Do they send a sign? Signs also can be ignored, explained away or brushed aside in the name of profit and convenience. Does a God write the warning in letter of fire across the sky for all to see? All it takes is for those people inside, who can't see it, to say that it was Gas, magic, an error of vision, natural phenomenon or any other excuse that can easily be summoned to mind. Scientists can be ridiculed and ignored the same way that Mages and Druids are being ignored. Scholars and historians can point out facts leading up to the situation and those facts will be twisted.
“So look me in the eye Freddie. You look me in the face and tell me what message any God, of this world or that, could send to humans, Dwarves, Elves, Halflings, Gnomes, Vran, Fae, Were-bubs, Dragons, Vampires, and everything else on all the other worlds that wouldn't be ignored and dismissed out of hand.
“The only way that the world changes at the hands of a God is if that God can get the right warning into the right ear at the right time. Because the only thing that can change the world, whether it's this world or that, is a small group of committed people.
“You are a historian and I get the sense that you occasionally miss getting told what to go and study by your professors so I'm going to give you some homework. You go through your history books. It doesn't have to be now, maybe when you get home and are waiting to get married. You go through your history books and you pluck out every time that the world has changed. You find all those times and if you track those events back far enough, you will find that a small group of committed people is the only thing that has ever changed the world.”
I stared at her for a bit. There was an intensity about her as though she had come into sharp focus during that little speech.
“Oh, I get it.” I told her. “I'm one of your messengers. I record this, I write it down and then hopefully, the correct person reads it and takes action at some point down the line. Is that it?”
She smirked.
“Don't let your head get too big that you can't fit through doors though.”
“I will endeavour to remember that.”
“Also, Not my messenger. And I don't talk to the Gods here too much so I have no idea what they're planning. I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Was it a good conversation?”
“It was better than most of the conversations I get. Most are just upset and need a shoulder to cry on.”
“I can see that. You still haven't really told me why you won't tell me what happened to Francesca.” I told her.
“Noticed that did you?”
“You've spouted a lot of things. A lot of things and most of it strikes me as being a rather complicated way to distract and confuse me. But you actually haven't really told me anything.”
“Yes I have.” She told me quietly. “I have, in fact, told you everything you need to hear. Even I am sometimes the tool of destiny after all.”
I had nothing to say to that.
We stood together for what felt like quite a long time.
“So what happens now?” I asked.
“Now? In a short while, the Albatross will fall. Shortly after that, this ship will set sail and return to the time and place where it was supposed to be. After that, I don't know really, I suppose you and your friends will go up to the keep and get drunk. I suspect that you will spend a day or two feeling miserable and self-pitying at the fact that you didn't entirely get everything out of this that you wanted.”
“Other than Helfdan.” I put in, pointing. He had come up from where he had been below and was rushing past where the cloaked figure was talking with Kerrass and Ciri where he vaulted over the back of the ship with a sure confidence. I later found out that he was inspecting the tiller, or trying to anyway. Then he vaulted back over and was speaking with as much animation as I have ever seen him use while talking to the Ship's Carpenter of the Skeleton Ship. He had his book with him and was writing in it furiously with a piece of charcoal. “He looks.... He looks Happy.”
“Yes, well, of all of you, he is the purest soul. Also, of all of you, he deserves his coming happiness and you will see him happier.”
“Good. You are right. He deserves the acclaim and the... Love. He deserves to be loved.”
The woman smiled at me. “But after a couple of days of feeling sorry for yourself, the four of you will start to lighten up. You will enjoy the rest of the festivities until the sea is passable again and then you will go your separate ways. You and Kerrass will continue on your journey and your quest. Helfdan will set about rebuilding his life and Ciri will go off to enjoy being Empress for as long as the crown continues to be hers.”
“What about you?”
“My part in this story is not yet done and my younger brother really gets cross when I mess up the old stories.”
“But this story isn't old.”
“That depends on where you stand. Remember, you see time as being strictly linear. But it isn't. I told you, ask Ciri about it some time. It will make your brain ache.”
“She does enjoy doing that. But what happens to you? What happens to him?” I jerked my finger back at Lennox.
“We will sail out of the harbour. I will continue on my duties, continue to fulfil my purpose. Him? He will go from here. His torment will deepen as he moves from cold into heat. He will be surrounded by water and be dying of thirst. He will be revolted by everything he sees but need them for survival and he will be borne home by a crew of dead men on a rotting ship.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“It will be.”
“But you're lying to me.” I accused her. “You know exactly what's going to happen, and to whom.”
“Well, yes. But it's also true that I don't. There must always be a choice Freddie and I must not influence that choice.”
“But if you know what choice I'm going to make.... Arrrrrggggghhhhhhh. You're going to say something about time now aren't you.”
“Now you're getting it. You still view time as linear. So I must treat you accordingly.”
We stood together for a while. It suddenly occurred to me that she was actually quite short. It was her hat that made her look tall.
She looked up at the sky.
“If you have anything else to say or ask. Say or ask them now.” She told me.
“So many things.” I replied. “So very many things. So I will say none of them. Except to say that I was really glad to meet you. I have never been more infuriated by a person in my life, nor as stimulated in so short a space of time. I even think, were my heart not already given elsewhere, that I would have loved you if I could have known you for a bit longer.”
Her smile was sad. “I love you too Freddie.” Then she hugged me. “Treat her well for me and I expect a full account of your life when I see you next.”
“I shall look forward to it.”
“Don't.” She told me.
Then the Albatross screamed.
“Ooopss.” She said, “That's our cue. Just quickly then...”
She took my arm and started steering me to where Lennox was tied against the mast. “Whatever happens next, you must learn that there are things that are beyond your control. Learn to forgive yourself for them. Learn from them.”
“Ok.” She was speaking quickly and fiercely. I got the impression from the furtive way that she was speaking that she was not allowed to do this, or say this. That she was breaking some rule in some way.
“And whatever happens.” She told me. “Whatever happens. Love her. See the beauty shining through and love her for it. It will be enough, I promise.”
“You shouldn't have told me that.” I guessed. “I mean I'm grateful and all but I don't think you should have told me that.”
“Hush now.” She winked conspiratorially. “Gods like to throw their weight around when they're at the height of their power, but they do that because they know, deep down they know that life moves on and then I am waiting.”
We arrived at the mast. The ship's company had also arrived and stood in a half circle around the mast where Lennox was leaning. He looked up and into our faces, looking from one face to the next. “Please,” he begged over and over again. “Please don't do this.”
Kerrass and Ciri arrived. Ushered by the tall figure in the cloak. Kerrass was frowning while the tears were running freely down Ciri's face which was a mask of misery. Helfdan was the last to arrive, ushered y his escort and guide, still scribbling in his notebook.
“Please don't do this.”
The Albatross screamed again but there was an extra element to the scream. A rattling unpleasantness. I couldn't see it although I looked up. The fires in the harbour meant that I couldn't see the keep of Kaer Trolde let alone high enough to see the Albatross.
I heard a rush of wind before the bird landed with a crash and a crunch of broken wood.
Calling it huge seems reductive in some way. With wings outstretched it was longer than I was tall. Longer than Kerrass even or the Sergeant that goes everywhere with Sir Rickard. And he is the tallest man I know.When I had first seen the Albatross, it was a distant figure, just a line, a dot in the sky. It was the same little shape that children draw when they want to represent birds in their paintings. A bent little V shape. It was a figure of terror and awesome power. I remember shaking in fear.
But now, here it was and I found the entire thing. A little pitiable.
It was dead. Very dead. I don't think you could get much deader than how dead that Albatross was. It lay there, basically rotting. Feathers were falling from it already and where as feathers, when they fall from birds, are often fluffy and light in tone. These feathers were lank, limp and greasy. Patches of black-green rot could be seen on the surface of the Albatrosses coat and skin that were leaking fluid already over the deck. And it smelled. Maggots were writhing in the things eyes and out of the backside of it. But far from being revolting, which it was, it was sorrowful. Here was the prideful, beautiful beast reduced to this and here we were all standing around looking at it.
A crossbow bolt stood out of it's chest. Glittering with metal. Harshness against the dead grace and vanished beauty of the bird.
Someone said something and three sailors rushed forward to drag the corpse of the Dead Albatross over to where Lennox stood, shaking. Three sailors were not enough though and another went over to help. They dragged it over before trussing it up with rope and hanging it off Lennox's neck.
He could no longer lift his head in order to look us in the eye any more. Even despite the fact that the sheer bulk of the corpse rested on the deck. Despite this, he was weeping again.
“DO ANY OF YOU WISH TO SAY ANYTHING TO THIS MAN?” The cloaked figure asked the four of us. The voice had a tinny, echoey quality to it. But there was also a resonance that echoed deep in my chest. It was a very male voice which I found surprising given that the woman had claimed that the figure was part of her. “THERE IS NOT A LOT OF TIME.”
“I am sorry.” I said. Then I blinked in astonishment that I had said anything at all. Then I blinked again as I realised that I meant it. “I am sorry that you were brought to this. I am sorry that you were driven to this extreme. And I am sorry that I was the instrument of returning you to your punishment.” I thought about it for a bit longer and decided that I had nothing more to say.
Helfdan stepped forward. “Ivar.” He began. “Tryggvi, Unnulf, Erlend, Haakon, Saxi, Gorm, Guldur, Ulaf, Rolof, Perrin, Asgaut, Askel, Kunnr, Svartlinggr, Vitkun, Kjarten, Gulti, Thoraldr, Bjalfi, Ursa, Diri, Brodir...” Tears fell from his face as he spoke although his voice never wavered. My own eyes misted as well and I saw Kerrass' face go stony. The way he does when he is maintaining his “Witcher's mask.”
“I would tell you more names but I do not think we have time.” Helfdan told the sobbing Lennox. “I would have you remember those though. But somehow, I do not think you will.” He stood up and stepped back.
Ciri stepped forward. “I actually want to thank you. I needed this I think. But I hate you for what you've done and all the pain that you've caused.”
Kerrass was shorter. “I really would have helped you if you had simply told me the truth.” Then he turned and looked at me. “Write that down and make sure you put it in your account of all of this. Make sure that people know that I said it.”
I nodded.
The tall cloaked figure walked to Helfdan first and held out his hand. It was white and so thin I almost thought it was just the bones of a hand.
“LORD HELFDAN.” The figure said. “A PLEASURE.”
Helfdan face frowned in confusion.
Moving down the line the figure came to Ciri and shook her hand.
“EMPRESS.” It said to which Ciri said nothing.
“WITCHER.” Kerrass did not shake the hand.
“Oh don't be daft Witcher.” The woman in the hat called over. “The gesture is politely meant so take it for what it's worth.”
Kerrass sighed a little before nodding and took the offered hand.
Then it was my turn.
“FREDERICK.” The figure said and held out it's hand. I took it and shook, all the while trying to see into the depths of the hood. The search was fruitless though. All I could see was shadow in the torchlight.
“IT IS NOT ALWAYS WISE TO LOOK TOO CLOSELY.” The Figure told me while shaking my hand. “SOMETIMES YOU MIGHT SEE WHAT YOU ARE LOOKING FOR. ENJOY THE MYSTERY LORD FREDERICK.”
“I hate mysteries.” I told the figure, doing my best to smile and not think about how cold and dry the figure's grip was. Now that I have some distance from these events, I could have looked down to see what I was shaking but at the time, I just didn't think of it.
“YOU MIGHT HATE THEM.” It told me. “BUT YOU WOULD BE BEREFT IF THEY WERE GONE. SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT PERHAPS.”
“Perhaps.” I answered.
Then he moved off.
I turned to see that the woman was hugging Helfdan fondly.
“Goodbye.” She told him before she moved on and hugged Ciri who seemed rather astonished.
“Take care of yourself.” The woman told Ciri before moving on, leaving Ciri to look after her with her mouth hanging open.
“Come here big man.” She told Kerrass who frowned in confusion before he cautiously opened his arms and the woman leapt into them before kissing Kerrass soundly on the cheek with a huge mwah sound to the laughter of everyone involved. “Do not die before your time.” She told him “and remember that she loves you too.”
Kerrass hung his head.
“Do I get a kiss?” I wondered as I saw that it was my turn.
“I'm not sure you deserve one.” She told me.
“Can I have a hug instead then?”
“You can always have a hug Freddie.” She told me before suiting action to words.
“Take care,” she whispered in my ear.
“Good Bye.” I told her.
Then she moved to stand by the other figure.
“TIME FOR YOU TO GO.” The tall figure said before turning to the man with the three pointed hat. “CAPTAIN, IT IS MY GREAT PLEASURE TO TELL YOU THAT THE SHIP IS YOURS AGAIN.”
Then he and the woman vanished. No flash, no gate. They were just not there any more.
“Time to head back to shore I think.” Ciri said. “I, for one, have a lot to think about.
We climbed over the side as the ship was untied. We saw sails lift with wind and then the Skeleton Ship was moving. The people on the side of the dock threw their offerings into the wake and the sound of a crowd of people weeping saw the ship off.
Helfdan left. I don't know where or when, but Ciri, Kerrass and I stood on the jetty and watched the Ship sail off. I've seen some expert steering in my time but that was something to see. The ship seemed to fade from view and as it did so, I thought that I heard a single sound echoing around the harbour, drowning out the tears and the gentle support of family members as the Skeleton Ship left.
It was the sound of a man wailing in fear and pain.
-
(A/N: So. Although there is a certain amount of aftermath to come and I debated talking about these things after that Aftermath is dealt with, it seems a little more relevant to talk about these things here. When I first began the arc of the Skeleton Ship, I told you all that I was writing this with apologies to two people. The first was my high/secondary school English teach whose efforts to try and teach me that Epic poetry was interesting and compelling, largely fell on deaf ears as I was far more interested in exploring other fantasy worlds. That remains the case.
The second apology goes to another writer and his name was Samuel Coleridge and the poem that I am talking about was “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.”
Unfortunately, there isn't really a category on FFN for Coleridge Fanfic so I can't really cross-post.Some people might also say that I took inspiration from the works of Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman and this is true, I did. The figures and Characterisations of Death and Life-in-Death are taken from their works respectively and I hope that I did them both justice. But they appeared first in that original epic poem.
Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)How fast she nears and nears!Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,Like restless gossameres?
Are those her ribs through which the SunDid peer, as through a grate?And is that Woman all her crew?Is that a DEATH? and are there two?Is DEATH that woman's mate?
Her lips were red, her looks were free,Her locks were yellow as gold:Her skin was as white as leprosy,The Night-mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she,Who thicks man's blood with cold.
Yes. I changed her description but I knew that Freddie would have a conversation with her and I did not know how to write her voice except in the way of Mr Gaiman's Death. So I changed her description. In my world, I can argue that the poet didn't like the description of Life in Death so changed it to a description of classic beauty for the time, blond hair and red lips. So I can argue the point. So there. But I found that her character matched Mr Gaiman's Death quite well.
The naked hulk alongside came,And the twain were casting dice;'The game is done! I've won! I've won!'Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
So that's that. Thank you for reading and after a chapter spent tying up some loose threads I am ready, if not eager to move on. Thanks for sticking with it and I will see you all soon.)