The underwater city of Liri has thrived off the coast of Denmark for generations. But now, as Europe’s medieval age comes to a close, the efforts of zealous priests and the destructive ringing of church bells are causing the city to crumble. An ageless people who thrived apart from the cruelty of human existence on land, the merfolk are poetic speakers, loving and loyal, nearly impervious to death but with one great deficiency: They lack souls.
Their numbers dwindling, the merpeople scatter. Some abandon their home for the coast of Dalmatia in the Adriatic Sea, while others—the half-human, half-seaborn children of the great merfolk king Vanimen—decide to scout alien territory on land for adventure, treasure, and clues to their lost human heritage.
The underwater city of Liri has thrived off the coast of Denmark for generations. But now, as Europe’s medieval age comes to a close, the efforts of zealous priests and the destructive ringing of church bells are causing the city to crumble. An ageless people who thrived apart from the cruelty of human existence on land, the merfolk are poetic speakers, loving and loyal, nearly impervious to death but with one great deficiency: They lack souls.
Their numbers dwindling, the merpeople scatter. Some abandon their home for the coast of Dalmatia in the Adriatic Sea, while others—the half-human, half-seaborn children of the great merfolk king Vanimen—decide to scout alien territory on land for adventure, treasure, and clues to their lost human heritage.
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Overview
The underwater city of Liri has thrived off the coast of Denmark for generations. But now, as Europe’s medieval age comes to a close, the efforts of zealous priests and the destructive ringing of church bells are causing the city to crumble. An ageless people who thrived apart from the cruelty of human existence on land, the merfolk are poetic speakers, loving and loyal, nearly impervious to death but with one great deficiency: They lack souls.
Their numbers dwindling, the merpeople scatter. Some abandon their home for the coast of Dalmatia in the Adriatic Sea, while others—the half-human, half-seaborn children of the great merfolk king Vanimen—decide to scout alien territory on land for adventure, treasure, and clues to their lost human heritage.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781497694323 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Open Road Media Sci-Fi & Fantasy |
| Publication date: | 12/30/2014 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 265 |
| Sales rank: | 71,553 |
| File size: | 2 MB |
About the Author
In 1952 he met Karen Kruse; they married in Berkeley, California, where their daughter, Astrid, was born, and they later lived in Orinda, California. Astrid and her husband, science fiction author Greg Bear, now live with their family outside Seattle.
Poul Anderson (1926–2001) grew up bilingual in a Danish American family. After discovering science fiction fandom and earning a physics degree at the University of Minnesota, he found writing science fiction more satisfactory. Admired for his “hard” science fiction, mysteries, historical novels, and “fantasy with rivets,” he also excelled in humor. He was the guest of honor at the 1959 World Science Fiction Convention and at many similar events, including the 1998 Contact Japan 3 and the 1999 Strannik Conference in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Besides winning the Hugo and Nebula Awards, he has received the Gandalf, Seiun, and Strannik, or “Wanderer,” Awards. A founder of the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, he became a Grand Master, and was inducted into the Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame.
In 1952 he met Karen Kruse; they married in Berkeley, California, where their daughter, Astrid, was born, and they later lived in Orinda, California. Astrid and her husband, science fiction author Greg Bear, now live with their family outside Seattle.
Read an Excerpt
The Merman's Children
By Poul Anderson
OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA
Copyright © 1979 Poul and Karen AndersonAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4976-9432-3
CHAPTER 1
The bishop of Viborg got Magnus Gregersen for his new archdeacon. This man was more learned than most, having studied in Paris, and he was upright and pious; but folk called him too strict, and said they liked no better to see him coming, with his long lean frame and his long sour face, than they liked to see any other black crow in their fields. The bishop felt one like that was needed, for laxity had set in during the years of strife that harried Denmark after King Valdemar the Victorious died.
Riding along the eastern Jutish coast as episcopal provost, Magnus came to Als, not the island but a hamlet of the same name. It was poor and lonely, deep woods behind it and Kongerslev Marsh to the north. Only two roads served it, one on the strand and one twisting southwesterly toward Hadsund. Each September and October its fishermen would join the hundreds that made catches in the Sound during the great herring run; otherwise their kind saw little of the outside world. They dragged their nets through the water and farmed their thin-soiled acres until time and toil broke them and they laid their bones to rest behind the small wooden church. Many old ways were still followed in steads like this. Magnus thought such doings pagan and bewailed to himself that there was no ready way to stop them.
Thus a baffled zeal grew double strong in him when he heard certain rumors about Als. None there would own to knowledge of what might have been happening since that day fourteen years ago when Agnete came back out of the sea. Magnus got the priest alone and sternly demanded the truth. Father Knud was a gentle man, born in one of those tiny houses, who had long turned a blind eye on what he thought were minor sins that gave his flock some cheer in their bleak lives. But he was aged now, and feeble, and Magnus soon wrung from him the full tale.
The provost returned to Viborg with a holy flame in his gaze. He went to the bishop and said: "My lord, in making my rounds through your diocese I found woefully many signs of the Devil's work. But I had not looked to come upon himself—no, say rather a whole nest of his foulest, most dangerous fiends. Yet this I did in the strand-hamlet Als."
"What mean you?" asked the bishop sharply; for he also dreaded a return of the old witchy gods.
"I mean that offshore is a town of merfolk!"
The bishop eased. "How interesting," he said. "I knew not that any were left in Danish waters. They are not devils, my good Magnus. They lack souls, yes, like other beasts. But they do not imperil salvation as might the dwellers in an elfhill. Indeed, they seldom have aught to do with the tribe of Adam."
"These are otherwise, my lord," answered the archdeacon. "Listen to what I have learned. Two and twenty years ago lived near Als a maiden hight Agnete Einarsdatter. Her father was a yeoman, well-to-do by his neighbors' reckoning, and she was very fair, so she ought to have made a good marriage. But one eventide when she walked alone on the beach, a merman came forth and wooed her. He lured her away with him, and she passed eight years in sin and godlessness beneath the sea.
"At last she happened to bring her newest babe up onto a skerry that it might drink sunlight. This was in earshot of the church bells, and while she sat rocking the cradle, they began to chime. Homesickness, if not repentance, awoke in her. She went to the merman and begged leave to go hear again the word of God. He gave unwilling consent and took her ashore. Beforehand he made her vow not to do three things—let down her long hair, as if she were unwedded; seek out her mother in the family pew; and bow down when the priest named the All Highest. But each of these she did: the first for pride, the second for love, the third for awe. Then divine grace drew the scales from her eyes and she stayed on land.
"Afterward the merman came in search of her. It was another holy day and he found her at Mass. When he walked into the church, the pictures and images turned their faces to the wall. None of the congregation dared lift hand against him, he was so huge and strong. He pleaded with her to return, and well might he have prevailed as aforetime. For this is not a hideous race with fish tails, my lord. Save that they have broad, webbed feet and big, slanting eyes, and the men among them are beardless, and some have green or blue hair—on the whole, they look like beautiful humans. His own locks were golden as hers. And he did not threaten, he spoke in tones of love and sorrow.
"Yet God strengthened Agnete. She refused him and he went back beneath the waters.
"Her father had the prudence, and the dowry, to get her wed inland. They say she was never cheerful, and before long she died."
"If it was a Christian death," the bishop said, "I cannot see that lasting harm was done."
"But the merfolk are still there, my lord!" cried the provost. "Fishermen see them often, romping and laughing in the waves. Does that not make a poor toiler, who dwells in a wretched hut with an ugly wife, ill content, yes, even questioning of God's justice? And when will another merman seduce another maiden, this time forever? That is the more likely now when those children of Agnete and her lover are grown. They come ashore almost as a habit, they have struck up friendships with some of the boys and young men—more than friendship, I heard tell, for the female among them.
"My lord, this is Satan's work! If we let souls be lost that were in our charge, how shall we answer on the Last Day?"
The bishop frowned and rubbed his chin. "You have right. What shall we do, though? If the Alsmen already do what is forbidden, a further ban will hardly check them; I know those stiff- necked fisherfolk. And if we send to the King for knights and troopers, how shall they go beneath the sea?"
Magnus raised a finger. It blazed from him: "My lord, I have studied matters of this kind and know the cure. Those merfolk may not be demons, but the soulless must ever flee when God's word is properly laid on them. Have I your leave to conduct an exorcism?"
"You do," said the bishop shakenly, "and with it my blessing."
So it came about that Magnus returned to Als. More men-at-arms than usual clattered behind him, lest the villagers make trouble. These watched, some eager for any newness, some surly, a few weeping, as the archdeacon had himself rowed out to a spot above the underwater town. And there, with bell, book, and candle, he solemnly cursed the sea people and bade them in God's name forever be gone.
CHAPTER 2Tauno, oldest child of fair Agnete and the Liri king, had counted his twenty-first winter. There was great merrymaking in his honor, feast, song, dances that wove their flitting patterns north, east, west, south, up, down, and around, between the shells and mirrors and golden plates which flung back the seafire lighting the royal hall; there were gifts, cunningly wrought, not alone of gold and amber and narwhal ivory, but also of pearl and lacy rosy coral, brought from afar by travelers throughout the centuries; there were contests in swimming, wrestling, harpooning, music, and rune- craft; there was lovemaking in dim rooms which had no roof because none was needed, and in the rippling gardens of red, green, purple, and brown weed where jellyfish drifted like white and blue blossoms and true fish darted like meteors.
Afterward Tauno went on a long hunt. Though the merfolk lived off the waters, he fared this time in sport, mostly to visit anew the grandeur of the Norway fjords. With him came the girls Rinna and Raxi, for his pleasure and their own. They had a joyful trip, which meant much to Tauno; he was often a sober one among his lighthearted kindred, and sometimes fell into dark broodings.
They were homebound, Liri was in sight, when the wrath struck them.
"Yonder it is!" Rinna called eagerly. She darted ahead. The green tresses streamed down her slim white back. Raxi stayed near Tauno. She swam laughing around and around him; as she passed below, she would stroke fingers over his face or loins. He grabbed for her with the same playfulness, but always she was out of reach. "Niaah!" she taunted while blowing him bubbly kisses. He grinned and swam steadily on. Having inherited their mother's shape of foot, the halfling children were less swift and deft in the water than their father's race. Nevertheless, a landman would have gasped at their movement. And they got about more readily on shore than their cousins; and they had been born able to live undersea, without need for the spells that had kept their mother from death by drowning, salt, or chill; and the cool-fleshed merfolk liked to embrace their warmer bodies.
Above Tauno sun smote waves, making a roof of bright ripples that traced its pattern across the white sand beneath him. Around, the water reached in hues of emerald and amethyst until distance brought dusk. He felt it slide by, answering the play of his muscles with caresses like a lover's. Kelp streamed upward from barnacled rocks, golden-brown, swaying to every current. A crab clanked over the seabed; a tunny glided farther off, blue and white and splendid. The water was never the same: here cold, there mild, here roiled, there calm, and a thousand different tastes and odors beyond the tang men smell on a strand; and it was full of sounds for those who could hear, cluckings, chucklings, croakings, chitterings, splashings, the hush-hush-hush where it lapped against land; and beneath each swirl and gurgle Tauno felt the huge slow striding of the tides.
Now Liri rose clear in his sight: houses that were hardly more than arbors of seaplants or frames of ivory and whale ribs, delicate and fantastically scrimshawed in this world of low weight, wide- spaced among gardens of weed and anemone; in the middle, the hall of his father the king, big, ancient, stone and coral in subtle hues, bedight with carven figures of fish and those beasts and fowl which belong to the sea. The posts of the main door were in the shapes of Lord Aegir and Lady Ran, the lintel was an albatross with wings spread for soaring. Above the walls lifted a dome of crystal, vented to the surface, which the king had built for Agnete, so that when she wished she might be dry, breathe air, sit by a fire among roses and what else his love could fetch her from the land.
The merfolk flitted about—gardeners, craftsmen, a hunter training a brace of young seals, an oyster gatherer buying a trident at a booth, a boy leading a girl by the hand toward some softly lighted cavern. Bronze bells, taken long ago from a wrecked ship, were being chimed; they pealed more clearly through water than ever through the air.
"Harroo!" Tauno shouted. He plunged forward in a burst of speed. Rinna and Raxi fell in alongside him. The three broke into the "Song of Returnings" he had made for them:
Here may I hail you, my homeland, my heartstrand.
Well for the wanderer's weal is the way's end.
Call up the clamor on conchs and on kettles!
Stories I'll strew from the silver-paved swanroad.
Gold the dawn glittered and glad wheeled the gulls
when——
Suddenly his companions screamed. They clapped hands to ears, their eyes were shut, they milled about blindly and wildly kicking till the water seethed.
Tauno watched the same craziness take all of Liri. "What is this?" he cried in horror. "What's wrong?"
Rinna wailed her anguish. She could not see nor hear him. He caught her. She fought to break loose. His strength gripped her from behind with legs and one hand. His other hand closed on the silken tresses to hold tight her jerking head. He laid mouth to an ear and stammered, "Rinna, Rinna, it's me, Tauno. I'm your friend. I want to help you."
"Then let me go!" Her shriek was ragged with pain and fright. "The ringing fills the sea, it shakes me like a shark, my bones are coming apart—the light, the cruel blaze, blinding, burning, burning—the words—Let me go or I die!"
Tauno did, altogether bewildered. Rising several yards, he made out the shivering shadow of a fisher boat, and heard a bell ... was a fire aboard too, and was a voice chanting in some tongue he knew not? No more than that....
The houses of Liri rocked as in a quake. The crystal dome on the hall shattered and rained down in bright shards. The stones trembled and began to slide from each other. That crumbling, of what had stood here since the Great Ice melted, sent its shuddering through Tauno's flesh.
Dimly he saw his father come forth, astride the orca which had its airspace in the hall and which no one else dared mount. Otherwise the king had naught but a trident; and he was clad in naught but his own majesty. Yet somehow his call was heard: "To me, my people, to me! Quickly, before we die! Seek not to save any treasure beyond your children—and weapons—come, come, come if you would live!"
Tauno shook Rinna and Raxi back to a measure of sense, and led them to join the throng. His father, riding about rallying the terrified merfold, had time to say to him grimly: "You, half mortal, feel it no more than does this steed of mine. But to us, these waters are now banned. For us, the light will blaze and the bell will toll and the words will curse until the Weird of the World. We must flee while we still have strength, to seek a home far and away."
"Where are my siblings?" Tauno asked.
"They were on an outing," said the king. The tone that had trumpeted went flat and dead. "We cannot wait for them."
"I can."
The king gripped his son by both shoulders. "That heartens me. Yria and, aye, young Kennin need more than Eyjan to ward them. I know not where we are going. Maybe you can find us later—maybe——" He shook his sun-bright mane. His visage drew into a mask of torture. "Away!" he screamed.
Stunned, beaten, naked, most of them unarmed and without tools, the merfolk followed their lord. Tauno hung, fists clenched on harpoon, until they were out of sight. The last stones of the royal hall toppled, and Liri was a ruin.
CHAPTER 3In the eight years that she dwelt beneath the waters, fair Agnete bore seven children. This was less than a seawife would have done, and maybe the unspoken scorn of those females helped drive her back to land, even as the bells of the little church and the sight of little thatch-roofed timber houses had drawn her.
For though the merfolk, like others of Faerie, knew no aging (as if He whose name they did not speak thus repaid them for lack of immortal souls), their way of life had its harsh side. Shark, orca, sperm whale, ray, sea serpent, a dozen kinds of killer fish hunted them; the creatures that they in turn hunted were often dangerous; tricks of wind and wave could be deadly; poison fangs and spines, cold, sickness, hunger carried many off. This was most true of their young; they must reckon with losing all but a few. The king had been lucky with those he got with his human mate. Behind his home were only three graves whereon the sea anemones had never been let die.
The four children who remained met in the wreckage of Liri. Round about were the heaped chaos of the hall, the farther-off bits and pieces of lesser homes, gardens already withering, fishflocks already scattered, broken scrimshaw, crabs and lobsters swarming through foodstocks like ravens over a corpse on shore. The meeting spot was where the main door had been. The albatross lay wingless; kindly Lord Aegir had fallen on his face; Lady Ran who takes men in her nets stood above, grinning. The water was chill and waves raised by a storm overhead could be heard mourning for Liri.
The merman's children were unclad, as was usual undersea save at festival times. However, they had gotten knives, harpoons, tridents, and axes of stone and bone, to ward off those menaces which circled closer and closer beyond the rim of their sight. None of them looked wholly like merfolk. But the elder three shared the high cheekbones, slanted eyes, and male beardlessness of their father; and while they had learned the Danish tongue and some of the Danish ways, now it was as merfolk that they talked.
Eldest among them, Tauno took the word. "We must decide where to go. Hard it was to keep death at bay when everyone stayed here. We cannot do it long alone."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Merman's Children by Poul Anderson. Copyright © 1979 Poul and Karen Anderson. Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
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