The Siren: Part II
A musical chime whispers on the wind as the Siren witnesses all that transpires with the sea-tossed crew. She knows this is her last chance to escape this foreign place of her lonely exile. She needs two volunteers to help unshackle her, but once they dive into her icy abode, the men would return only as wights to haunt the turbulent sea on stormy nights to carry out Poseidon’s bidding. They are to act as humble gifts for her mighty father; the spirits are quite helpful at fulfilling deeds that require a more subtle approach. Her father will be able to call them to him and complete any task given.
With her expedient gift, she hopes to broker a peace treaty with her father to ensure her release. She also knows an ancient spell that allows her to bind the soul of a person to her, but will also allow for her father to seem to be their master puppeteer. Her plan is to bind only one of the sacrifices because she wishes only to find out where her sisters are located so that she may free them. As much as she despises them at times, they are her sisters. Only they could understand what life was like as a female; even a Goddess takes the backseat to her boisterous male counterparts. Even though her father’s usual favorite, he expects more out her than the others, and her sisters were her sole comfort acting as a soothing balm to their father’s sharp barbed critiques.
“I will choose from those men who want to stay, for this is my end, this is forever. Make sure of your choice. For I expect you to be mine and mine alone. You shall cease to exist as you are now. So you will be lost to those you love forever. You will be known for dead, a spirit haunting the sea. I do ask for two sacrifices, variety is the spice of life, my good fellows. And if no volunteers, I shall be forced to choose myself.”
Her eyes glazed with her own unsated lust while her heart skipped a beat, causing a light pinkish flush to appear across her nose and cheeks. Appearing naive and child-like. The light ocean spray misted salted air and dangerous pheromones. Predatory by nature, more beast than woman, too many scars flayed her heart. Her eyes betray nothing. She knows these weaklings believe her salty lies, but looks are deceiving and her glorious illusion unbreakable.
The men take no notice of the hawk watching what transpires. The Siren caught up in the moment overlooked the main component of her training: constant observation, the only way to stay alive, so the watchful hawk spies, waiting for the outcome.
The crew discusses this cruel twist of fate. With heavy hearts and long faces, they come up with the fairest way of selection. A race is to be scheduled, up the main mast to untie the weathered frayed rope to change it out for a stronger rope, hopefully, strong enough to get themselves far away from this musical seductress and back to those families who had surely given up after the years started to merge into another, and with no sign of this missing crew of pirates and treasure hunters.
Hoping their ploy stays hidden amongst the nattering and boasting of the men as they strut like peacocks with puffed out chests. A plumage of unkempt hair in shades of every color shimmer and wave in the gentle spray; catching the reflective sunlight which shimmers with coppery reds, burnished golds, and iridescent raven’s wing glitters and shines in the wet sunlight. Shirtless as they were, the crew, sweat drips down carved chests and chiseled backs, a most intriguing sight to this Siren who dared to rebel against this shackled cruelty of isolation and abstinence.
A race dedicated to her beauty and honor, her pale face shimmers like the clear blue ocean in the midday sun casting light upon the excitement burning in her eyes. A smart deal she had struck with these mortal men. Her father, she thinks, would at least be proud of her trickery. She has been carefully overlooking each of the men as they strut around the deck of the moldy ship. Funny, these mortal men, vain even in the face of impending death.
“Dipping her slender finger in the dark pool of blood, the Siren pops her finger in her moist mouth savoring the life fluid. She flashes her most radiant smile at the remaining men through the pouring droplets of water.”
Now don’t forget our observant hawk, moving to perceive all angles, and watches with careful humorous eyes. Flying high in the cloudless sky using Helios’ brightness to keep him from being spotted by mortal and immortal alike. For a closer observation, the mast with their heavy sails was an excellent perch for spying without being noticed.
The Siren chooses as her lover, a bull of a man with ginger hair, an oddity she has never seen. His eyes the color of mossy green twinkled with desire and fear. The smell intoxicates the sneaky siren. He was hairless unlike many of his male counterparts and did not exude the briny smell from months of unwashed bodies kept in close confines. He was quick to take her hand and place a gentle kiss on her cold porcelain palm. He thinks he felt the stunning creature relax a bit, but he sees the hint of a sly smile light up her cold eyes.
Santo was a learned man but enjoyed the labors and rewards of being a part of this helter-skelter crew. He also knew he had nothing to return to once, or if, they actually make it safely home. Santo signed on for the adventure and the experience since he was the third son and hardly likely to inherit any land or goods from his father. He rubs his lips as he thinks about the pretty rich noblewoman who slipped right through his fingers. Although the thought causes much displeasure and hurtful feelings, he can’t help but think of how close he had come to having it all, much like hounding the gums after a tooth has broken off.
He can still hear Brighid’s tears and mad raving as she ranted about her father’s refusal of Santo’s proposal. Santo tries to stop the next thought from entering his mind by looking at the horizon as Helios drives his golden chariot across the pastel sky making way for his lady love, Selene. However, the pinkish hued clouds resemble Brighid’s flowing dress as he found her dead on the floor of her father’s wooden floors. Her life force soaked up by the mesh-like material of her gauzy dress. Moaning silently, Santo runs his calloused fingers through his salt stiff hair brushing away a single tear that threatens to fall and draw notice.
He doesn’t want his new mistress to find his weak spot. He finally turns back to the crew to wait for the captain’s instructions, while paring his fingernails with his jeweled crusted knife won on a gamble. His eyes sweep over the ship watching as crew members sized up any competition. He would not be second best at anything. And at this moment his mind was set on having this wild beautiful creature for his own. Even if she took other lovers, he would not be cast aside or put to death. He would have it all he ever wanted out of life, even in death.
The captain, ready to tarry no longer, clears his throat and announces that the men were ready for the impending contest. He charges two of his men in constructing a net large enough to catch up the Siren.
“Find what net you can and tie it in your strongest knot for I fear for all our lives if those knots come undone.” The captain’s tone is clipped as he turns to face the men hidden in the damp shadows.
“She knows naught of you. So you should have an advantage. Pray to Zeus and Posideon that we may escape this disastrous fate.” The men fade into the blackness of the captain’s chambers with no words. They know this might be their only chance to trick the creature.
As the captain conspires to save the crew, the men who first spoke up about wanting a chance to speak for themselves found they were the first ones up the main mast. Not an easy feat was it to be as the skies opened up and drops of water the size of grapes come pelting down slapping the men in the face. The rain came quick and fast making the mast a more dangerous place as the wood becomes slick with rain and salt. One of the sailors loudly swears he cannot see his nose from the onslaught of raindrops.
The first men up the mast found they had a long fall, for once they made it to the top, a gust of powerful wind blows them off balance. They tumble to the deck, one died instantly as his head bashes against the stern spilling thick liquid rubies across the rough wooden deck, while the other lands on his neck causing the man to scream in agony and horror as he suffers paralysis. Dipping her slender finger in the dark pool of blood, the Siren pops her finger in her moist mouth savoring the life fluid. She flashes her most radiant smile at the remaining men through the pouring droplets of water.
“That first round was most exciting, but we shall pause until the storm passes.” Looking at the dark sky, she spots a familiar bird in flight hovering over the ship, but upon a closer inspection, the bird disappears into the water-logged clouds. Something feels amiss. She must be more diligent to ensure the success of her plan. She must have her freedom.
Here is the link to the first part of The Siren. I hope you, my readers, enjoy this mythological tale. Keep following to find out if our Siren pulls off her plans for freedom and reconciliation with her father and sisters.