Mermaid_ A Twist on the Classic Tale - Carolyn Turgeon [63]
Outside, the snow-covered landscape stretched off in every direction, endless, shining icily under the moon as if it had been sprayed with stars. Any minute the signal would come from below, and the horses would be waiting.
Her heart pounded in anticipation. In a way, it was as if she were returning to the convent. That she had heard her call. After all, she was returning to the magic and the beauty she’d discovered there, and she would be serving God by bringing peace back to her land.
She blinked away thoughts of the mermaid, the longing that seized up inside her. It might have been the happiest she’d ever felt, she realized. Sitting on the beach with the mermaid, realizing that there was such breathtaking beauty in the world.
There will be more, she thought. If everything works as I hope it will, there will be more beauty everywhere.
“I will pray for your safe journey,” Josephine said.
“Thank you,” Margrethe replied, taking a deep breath and turning from the window. “Remember, at Mass tomorrow, you are to say that I am ill. Later, you will be as surprised as everyone when they find my note and realize that we’re gone.”
“You have been back such a short time, my lady,” Laura said. “I am sorry for you to leave so soon.”
“Oh, but we are happy for you, too,” Josephine said quickly. “It is a true gift, to hear such a call.”
“But are you sure you’ll be safe there?” Laura asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Margrethe said. She put her hand on Laura’s shoulder. “Everything is fine. I will be well protected now.”
“All I want is your happiness, my lady.”
“I know. It’s time for me to return. I belong there. My father will not understand now, but I hope that he will, with time. That he’ll see my reasons were pure.”
“He will be very proud of you, my lady.”
“I hope he will be,” she said. “Eventually.”
A faint, low whistle sounded from below.
“We must go,” Edele said, lifting her satchel. She reached for Margrethe’s as well, but the princess stopped her.
“I will carry it,” she said.
“Let me help you,” Laura said, rushing forward.
“No. You are to stay here,” Margrethe said, gently putting her hand on the girl’s arm. “We cannot draw any extra attention to ourselves.”
Laura nodded and stood back.
Margrethe and Edele said their good-byes, tearfully kissing and embracing their friends. Then they slipped the hoods of their cloaks over their heads and moved to the outer chamber, and into the corridor, down to the western part of the castle and the side door that led to the stables. It was late, and even most of the servants were sleeping. All the fires were out except a small one in the heart of the kitchen, which an old servant was tending. He did not even look up as the two figures slipped by like silent shadows against the wall.
As quietly as she could, Margrethe pressed open the outer door. Just beyond it, two guardsmen stood waiting with their horses standing calmly beside them, as still as trees.
The guards bowed and took their satchels, helped Margrethe and Edele mount the horses. Both girls lifted their skirts, revealing the men’s pants underneath, and they sat the way men did, straddling the backs of the horses. Speed and safety were more important than decorum, Margrethe had believed, much to Edele’s delight.
They walked their horses slowly across the lawn to the castle drawbridge, the two guards leading them quietly through the snow. Margrethe breathed in the night air, the smell of frost and smoke and wood. It felt fresh, bracing, a world cleaned out and about to be remade. A thrill shot through her as she thought of the grand adventure that awaited them, and she almost laughed out loud. The sky was as clear as she’d ever seen it. She looked back at the castle, where her father slept. The moon shone down on it, and on the drifts of snow all around. She looked at Edele, whose face was shining with anticipation. Margrethe smiled. She felt impossibly small, at that moment, swept away by the forces of history. It was all God’s will, she thought. She would trust in Him.
When they