\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2302491-The-Maids-Song
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: E · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #2302491
Based on the song 'Maid on the Shore' by Stan Rogers, a woman must delude her captivity.
He had spoken of love. At least, it was among the words he said to me when I last saw him. Nor long after I watched his ship leave on the tide as I stood on the wind-swept cliffs overlooking the sea. That was two years ago and much has changed.
Later, I discovered he wasn’t the character I thought him. It was through rumours and conversation that I learned he had a quick-temper, poor judgement and inclination to flirt with other women. He had gambled a large amount and, unbeknownst to me, had spent a night in prison after a tavern fight.
But, in my innocence I hadn’t the faintest notion of all of this. With me, he was sweet and gentle, albeit cocky. I had believed his honey-soaked words; the false sincerity in his eyes and ignored the whispered warnings, rumours, and nagging doubts in my mind.
If only I had listened. If only I had taken note. If only I hadn’t been so deluded. If only…
I hadn’t given him my heart.
Habitually, I would walk out every evening to the strand, strolling this way and that as I gazed out at the horizon for any ships coming in.
“A lost soul” the villagers would call me, thinking nothing else could comfort me but to walk the shoreline each day. The waves did calm me with their constant ebb and flow. They appeared timeless, undaunted by age and season.
Thus the years passed, the seasons came and went, as did my grief over my broken heart, and I resolved to not be blinded by lies again.
One evening it appeared: a ship all too familiar. Its approach was slow, the sails fluttering in a breeze rather than billowing with the wind. The colours of blue and white and red woven in the flag were in stark contrast to the grey evening.
My heart skipped a beat: could he be there, coming back for me at last? Or had his promise to me been long forgotten with the tide?
Thoughts and questions scurried through my mind, replacing any remembrance of his criminality. With night fast approaching the crew would hardly come to land, but would likely drop anchor close by and come ashore with the morning light. I would have to settle and wait for the new day, though my eyes would hardly close that night.
The evening passed with questions of ‘what if’ playing in my mind:
What if he wasn’t aboard?
But what if he was? Would he seek me out or not?
What if he has changed?
What if he doesn’t remember me?
What if he no longer cares?


Although he wasn’t the man I had thought him, I realized that deep down, I still cared for him deeply.
Morning had only broken when I dressed and hurried to the shore. As I had imagined, the ship was anchored, and rowboats were now coming to the docks.
I hesitated, did I go and stand alone to be seen, or watch from a distance?
I chose the latter and backed against the tavern wall.
Several minutes passed before the first boat came ashore. One sailor after another came, some seeming unsteady on their feet, a few red-rimmed eyes roamed the docks and there was more than one man dishevelled in appearance.

Just as I was beginning to think he was not among them, I spotted him. He walked among the crew as an ordinary sailor but wore the hat and attire of a Captain.
I nearly gasped he had changed so! While before his face was smooth, now he wore a close cut beard; where once there was a mischievous smile on his lips and soft features, now there was a stern expression and lines creased his face. Yet, his confident gait had stayed as he strode along the dock while the last of his men secured the boats.
As he came closer, I noticed a scar running from beside his right eye down to his beard. His skin bore the marks of one used to wind and sea and I could just imagine the callouses now on the palm of his hands from wood and rope.
My heart felt like it would thud out of its chest as he came closer, and almost passed the tavern when suddenly he looked straight at me and stopped short.
“Katherine?” he asked, eyeing me from head to foot. “Surely it’s not you? But aye, I’d know that face from anywhere!” he continued, stepping closer. His voice sounded rough, even harsher, then I remembered.
“Aye, ‘tis me” I finally broke from my observations and found my voice. His eyes seemed to light at my voice.
“But lass, the years have been kind to you” he said gazing at me in appreciation. “I do not know if I have fared so well.”
“And yet you stand before me now, no longer a wide-eyed boy with nothing but dreams in his pocket. Now, I see you are a Captain of a fine vessel” I replied, indicating his hat and uniform.
“Aye” he answered, looking back over his shoulder at his ship not far from us, bobbing with the waves. “A merchant ship for King Edward. Ever at his service.” He added with a dark chuckle that caused me to pause at his words.
Then his gaze turned quizzical, “What are you doing here at this hour?”
“In truth I saw your ship last night as I walked the strand. I wondered if you would come in this morning” I shrugged nonchalantly, “I wanted to see if you would be here.
‘You did promise all those years ago that you would return.”
“Aye” he said thoughtfully, “So I did. Methinks we have much to discuss” he glanced around, “is there some place we can meet perhaps a bit more…private?”
“There is. I have a tea room now. It will do.”
“Tea room?” he echoed in surprise.
“Aye. I have partnership of it. You can find it on the main street. Meet me there in an hour’s time. It will be quiet enough but also public.”
“I will then” he agreed, “What’s it called?”
“Kate’s teahouse” I replied before walking away. Indeed, much had changed.
¬
The hour went quickly while my actions on opening the tea room were practiced. Mechanical with years of routine, as my mind raced with doubts, questions and fears. Before I knew the time, he was at the door, walking in with eyes alight and a smile on his face. I gave him a light smile in return and indicated for him to sit at a small table near the back corner. He sat while I busied myself with the tea.
Amazingly, we eased into light conversation, as if years of silence weren’t between us. But for his attire and naval position, He hadn’t changed; and in that realization I felt both comfortable and uneasy. He was the man as I knew him, but in the back of my mind I also wondered about his abusive nature.
And as I did, my tea became bitter.
“I am sorry I left things as I did” he finally said. “I meant to return. Truly.” He gazed at me with apology in his eyes. “But things became busy…. there is no time at sea. It passes without note.” He shrugged, looking down at his teacup, then flicked back to me. “But I am here now. That is what matters, is it not?”
“I don’t know Matthew. You left me much heartache-and what of the rumours?”
His eyes sparked with sudden ire, “what rumours?”
“That you ran because of gambling debts. Never mind that you spent a night in prison.”
I didn’t add about his roving eyes, the whispers of his affairs with Sally Johnson, nor Helen Donell.
Not that I could even bring myself to speak their names.
He waved my words away, “that is nothing. All has been taken care of.” He took a drink from his teacup-though I knew there was nought left in it but leaves.
“Was there no paper aboard your ships?” I asked after a moment, “nor quill to write with?” I felt my heartbeat just a bit faster as his expression darkened.
Was it because of regret? Or anger?
“Listen Kate” he began slowly, “you speak truthfully. I could have written. But…” he put a hand through his well combed hair, “it’s just…I never knew where I could be, nor always could I guarantee my length of stops to receive correspondence.
And in truth my writing is not good, so I wouldn’t think to write you.”
He chuckled nervously though no smile touched my lips, nor was I amused in the slightest.
The Captain noticed and frowned, “listen, my ship is only docked for a day or two. It would please me greatly if we could catch up properly and spend time with each other.”
He took my hand in his, his skin rough from his labours, “and perhaps….we can rekindle the flame eh?”
I pressed my lips tightly, a part of me yearned for what he spoke of. But deep down, I knew better.
“No Matthew” I shook my head, pulling my hand from his, “what we had before…it was true. At least, for my part. But now…I cannot go back to how things use to be.
‘Things have changed. I think it is better this way.” I stood, signalling the end of our time.
“That’s it then?” he asked with a slight edge to his tone. “You’re not going to give me a chance? Because I did not write a couple of letters?”
“No Matthew. Because you and I are on different paths.”
He snorted, “different paths indeed!” He stood abruptly and snatched his hat from the table. He took two steps away before turning back.
“You’re a lovely woman and I would hate for our relationship to end like this. You’re sweet and kind…and I can’t imagine another like you.”
He sighed, “if you change your mind, I am renting a room above the tavern. I’d welcome the sight of you.”
Then he turned and left. A heavy silence seemed to fall upon the room, his words echoing in my mind as I felt the broken pieces of my heart fall upon the floor.
“Goodbye” I whispered as the door closed behind him.
¬

Although I had hardly slept the night before, my sleep was troubled as I dreamed of ships and storms-and Matthew’s handsome face. I awoke with a start and could see dawn’s light only beginning to stretch her fingers across the sky. With a sigh, I got up and dressed for the day; before putting my shawl around my shoulders and heading down to the strand.
The water was calm and the wind still with no sound to carry. In the distance I could see Matthew’s ship was still docked, it’s sails furled as the boat dipped with the waves. Absently I wondered if Matthew had yet to arise, of if he had a sleepless night himself.
Or had he sought the company of another woman? The thought made my insides turn.
So absorbed was I, in my thoughts, that I had not heard footsteps approaching until a man was standing, cap in hand, a few feet away. From his clothing I knew he was a high-ranking sailor.
“Pardon me, lass” he began, his voice gravelly, “but would you be Katherine Keller?”
“Aye” I replied, wondering what a sailor would have to do with me.
“Captain Matthew O’Reily, of the Blue Bow, wishes to see you.”
I couldn’t help but stare at his face, “is this a joke?” I asked in disbelief.
“Nay ma’am. He is set to sail soon and would like to speak with you afore he leaves.”
“Tell your Captain that if he wishes to see me, he may come himself!”
With that I spun on my heel and began walking in the other direction.
The nerve! I thought, sending a sailor to summon me as if he were a lord!
“Sorry lass but I’m afraid the Captain insists you come now!” the sailor’s voice followed close on my heels.
“I will not be treated as his servant. He knows fine well where I stand. Now I bid you good day!” I replied without turning.
Another suddenly appeared on my other side; broad shouldered and muscular, he quickly took ahold of my shoulder, forcing me to stop.
I stared at him aghast,
“’fraid the captain won’t take no for an answer!” he said with a chuckle and taking my arm, began pulling me along.
“Let me go!” I shrieked, squirming and pulling, trying to get away from his grasp. But he held me all the tighter.
“Enough!” he finally roared.
Pain suddenly spread across the back of my head and my vision blurred until all went black.
¬
I awoke to the sensation of rocking; to the grumbles of men’s voices and footsteps above me. My head throbbed and my throat was dry. With a groan I slowly opened my eyes to see a slit of light coming in from an upper window.
“Where am I?” I said to the air around me. Slowly I sat up as the fog in my mind began to clear, when I remembered being assailed on the beach-and then I knew exactly where I was. The Blue Bow.
I looked around to find myself on a bed with a light blanket thrown over me. To my left was a small table and chair, papers were piled nicely in the middle and above them was a map. Directly beside the bed was a small nightstand with a bowl and jug of water. To my right was an ornate wardrobe and several pairs of man’s boots sat before it.
With a cry I shot out of the bed, my skin crawling. I had been lying in a man’s bed! Judging by the little light coming into the room, I had lain there long enough. Quickly, I went to the door and thrust it open. A staircase was directly before me which I carefully climbed. Peering up, I saw the sky was now overcast and a fresh breeze was in the air. All around me I could hear the sailors shouting, some running to and fro while others carried supplies to set away. It was clear to me that they were preparing to set sail.
As everyone was occupied I quickly scurried above deck and went immediately to the bow to see if I could find a way off.
But as I came to the edge my heart dropped: we were already moving! Yet the wind was now strong, surely we couldn’t be that far from land. Moving to the stern I could see the town though it was already much smaller than it should appear.
“Should be gone by midnight” a too-familiar voice said behind me.
Rage rose in me and I spun to meet him: Matthew made a fine form dressed in his Captain’s uniform, a twinkle in his eye. “How.dare.you?” I ground the words out, and he chuckled.
“I thought you liked the sea? Wanted to see the world?” he spread out his hands, “well, now is your chance!”
“Fool!” I exclaimed, “Not like this-and certainly not with you! Now take me back!”
His humour faded, “come now Katherine. There is no need for vehemence. I wanted to see you, spend time with you! And what better way than aboard my ship?
‘I love you still and would that you marry me.”
“Marry you?” I shrieked, loud enough that several men stopped their task to look at us, “You are the last person that I would marry right now! Have you have sunk so low that you have stolen me from the shore?
‘Do you even know what love is? Marry you indeed! I wouldn’t marry you for all the tea in China!”
I stood there, heart thumping, hands fisted, shaking in rage while his gaze met mine clouded and pensive. He ran his hand over his stubble of a beard.
“Well then” he cleared his throat, “this will be a very interesting voyage to Spain.”
“Spain?” I echoed in disbelief.
“Aye. Perhaps your head was hit a bit too hard. Maybe after some rest you will rethink your decision.
‘John!” he then barked, while I stood completely frozen to the deck.
“Have you not heard a word I’ve said?” I asked, my voice hollow, as one of the men who had met me on the beach appeared at his order.
“Take Miss Kellar back to my cabin. Ensure she doesn’t leave until I collect her at dinner.”
“Aye Cap’n” he replied and grabbed ahold of my arm. Completely stunned, I allowed him to lead me.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Matthew smirk as I was led away.
¬
By evening I had a plan.
A rummage through Matthew’s belongings told me enough to know that he hadn’t changed his ways. Instead, he was worse. There was one piece that had piqued my curiosity: behind his nightstand was a decorated box that I had given him as a parting gift. It was sealed shut but on lifting it I could hear what could only be coin inside.
Yet, when Matthew came for me in the evening, he found my hair properly in place, my dress straightened and, while I could not smile, I at least gentled my features and gave a silent nod in greeting.
“Well now” he began, clearly pleased, “how do you feel?”
“Better” I said.
He shifted his stance, “and my proposal. Have you…thought more on it?”
“I’ve considered it” I replied. Though it wasn’t in the way he thought.
“Well, it is a start” he offered me his arm, “come to dinner where we can talk.”
Calmly, I accepted his arm and allowed him to lead me further down the hall. From the little light I spotted slipping from above deck, I could tell haste would be needed this evening.
“I still have it, you know” he said casually, “the box you gave me before I left.” I pressed my lips together- he couldn’t know I’d seen it.
“I keep your letters in it.”
“But nothing else?” I asked meeting his gaze.
He shrugged. “A few precious items are stored in it. But its main use is for the memory of you.”
We reached a room where many of the ship’s crew sat around a large wooden table. The men were already into their cups, gesturing and speaking loudly over each other. Bowls and plates were before them while the food had yet to be served. Matthew guided me to a seat beside the head of the table and a few of the men whistled as he helped me into my chair. Everyone quieted as he raised a hand to get their attention.
“Lads there is a lady at our table tonight. Let us show some decorum-at least for this evening” he added with a wink. Then he sat which signalled for the meal to begin. Beef, potato, beans, bread-this was not the fare of simple sailors but instead spoke of wealth.
The Captain must have noticed my quizzical expression for he leaned over to explain in my ear, “’tis our first night at sea.”
While this was no proper explanation, I nodded my understanding and, knowing what the night lay in store for me, I ate well. The conversation around the table was raucous as the men spoke of their time on land, and hope for what lay ahead. Much was revealed to me of their exploits and their Captain seemed no better as he joined in with his own jabs and comments.
Suddenly Spruce-as he was called-stood up and with a voice almost as loud as the sea, began:
There once was a ship that put to sea
The name of the Ship was the Billy O’Tea.
The Winds blew up, her bow dipped down
Oh blow, my bully boys, blow.”


Then all at once the rest of the crew joined in, clapping hands and cups upon the table:
“Soon may the Wellerman come.
To bring us sugar and tea and rum.
One day when the tonging is done
We’ll take our leave and go.”


Then Spruce continued the next verse solo, all listening in anticipation of the chorus, in which they joined again clapping and clanging.
I found myself enjoying the frivolity and almost wished that we were together in company as friends at the tavern. Spruce sang all seven verses before lifting his cup with the others and then sat down. The men clapped and roared in appreciation before calling for another song. Another sailor sprang up and a new song was begun. As they carried on Matthew turned to me, a gleam in his eyes, “as you can see we’re a lively bunch. Simple men, who enjoy a song and a beer with our bread.”
Then a mischievous smile touched his lips,
“as I recall, you have a lovely voice.”
“I do not know about that” I replied, but his words were just the invitation I needed.
The first mate beside me must have heard because he suddenly exclaimed “Oy! The fair lady sings!”
“Sing us a song so we may hear!”
“Aye a song for your supper!” another joined in.
Then the chant began around the table, “sing, sing, sing!”
Matthew held up his hand to silence them. “Now remember Katherine is our guest. Let us show respect.” Then he turned to me with a smile, “will you favour us with a song?”
“Very well” slowly I stood, my mind seeking the needed lyrics as all the men sat quietly staring at me in anticipation.

“I am a young sailor, my story is sad.
Though once I was carefree and a brave sailor lad.
I courted a lassie, by night and by day.
But now she has left me and sailed far away.

Oh if I was a blackbird and could whistle and sing.
I’d follow the vessel, my true love sails in…”


I continued on with the song of the Blackbird, my voice ringing true despite my nerves. A few of the men knew the song and hummed in time with the chorus. When I finished the men cheered as I hoped for-and asked for more.
“A woman needs a bit more drink for that!” I quipped and laughter sprang up as the cups were filled all around the table.
But for myself I only sipped at the beer, while I watched all the men chug it back. At times I only pretended to drink while keeping an eye on the cups of the others.

I sang several more songs that were well known like ‘Jack the Sailor’ and ‘the highwayman’ and ensured the cups kept filling in between. Then, when I sensed the night was becoming long and their eyes heavy, I began to turn to softer songs.
“I’ll sing only one more.” I said just when it seemed that Matthew was going to finish the night and send everyone away. “It’s one I am sure you will like” I added. He looked around at the men and then nodded.
“One more” he slightly slurred.
Perfect.
Clearing my voice I began a song which had once settled him to sleep when he had fallen ill:

“Black is the color of my true love’s hair.
Her lips are like
Red roses fair.
She has the sweetest smile
And the gentlest hands.
I love the ground
On which she stands.”


My song had the desired effect as it played on the imagination and emotions of the men. It invited them to rest and sleep with romance in their brains. When the song came to its end, I ran it into a lullaby to ensure their sleep:

“Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-rol
That’s an Irish lullaby.”


Assured the men was asleep in their cups, I slowly moved away from the table, keeping a close eye for any movement. Then, quietly but quickly, I stepped out of the room and ran down the hall to Matthew’s cabin. I knew exactly what I wanted as I grabbed the keepsake box I had given him so long ago. Then I pulled his cloak that had been resting on his chair and his sword left carelessly just inside his wardrobe. Hurrying onto the deck, I searched for the row boats that would be used to get ashore. I could almost hear the ticking of the clock as I ran around the edge of the boat frantically searching for something to bear me away.
Finally, I found one at the stern, already secured to a davit. Seizing the rope, I jumped in and began to lower myself down to the water.
Matthew must have come to and realized I wasn’t where I should be, because all at once I heard shouts and steps coming onto the deck. In my haste I loosened my grip on the rope and dropped the rest of the way onto the sea.
Desperately I began searching for the oar.
“Looking for these?” Matthew called from the deck. I looked to see him holding two oars that should have been in my boat.
“You’ll not get very far without them!” He sneered.
“We’ll see about that!” I shouted.
Two others stood beside him, hooting and hollering. I saw Spruce move to get another boat to chase me but Matthew stopped him.
“Leave her. She’ll be no harm to us as she drifts across the Atlantic!”
His cooling words clouded my hope, as the indication was clear: my chance of surviving wasn’t good. As my boat drifted further I realized there was only one other resource I could try: taking his broad sword out from beneath the cloak, I put it into the water and began to paddle.
Determination alone can-do wonders.
¬
Dawn had already lit the sky by the time I was in walking distance of the shore. Sore and exhausted, I clamoured out of the boat, the seawater reviving me somewhat as my feet touched its cold depths. It was only in the grey light of the morning that a flash of turquoise caught my eye. Looking at the sword in my hand I saw the jewel encrusted in its hilt and just beneath that, a pirate symbol.
My suspicions were confirmed.
Grabbing the box from the boat I walked swiftly onto the beach and into the town. I had never felt so thrilled to come onto dry land. Collapsing onto the sand, I breathed deeply the morning air and, after a moment, used a stone to crack open the box.
True to his word, it did contain several letters that I had sent. But down below, I found not only gold coins, but a scattering of jewellery with precious stones. Adrenaline alone got me to the police station.
“I urge you to find all reports you can of one Captain Matthew O’Reilly” I said to a very startled Sergeant who had been yawning at his desk. I placed the sword and box on the desk before him, which promptly widened his eyes.
“He is the Captain of the Blue Bow. It’s registered under His Majesty’s Navy but I think you will find there is more than meets the eye in regard to Captain and crew.” I pointed to the pirate symbol on the sword, “I have good reason to suspect piracy. If anything” I added, “you can charge him with kidnapping.”
My words sent him and his men into a flurry of activity. But after my tiring it was all I could do to give a statement before accepting a lift home. Curling into my bed with a prayer of thanksgiving on my lips, I promptly fell asleep.
¬
Two days passed before I dared to venture back down to the strand. Seagulls cried and waves lapped upon the shore; fishing boats and ships bobbed along the horizon as dusk crept in.
All was as it had been before.
There was no sight nor sound of the Blue Bow, but I had heard that Captain Matthew was breathing threats against his crew as he was brought in for questioning. Yet it was his own doing for thinking I would simply drift away in the sea.
I had deluded them: making them think I was just a sweet, sensitive woman, accepting her fate as it came.
A smile touched my lips, I was yet again, a maid on the shore.


Maid on the Shore
Lyrics by Stan Rogers

There is a young maiden, she lives all a-lone
She lived all a-lone on the shore-o
There's nothing she can find to comfort her mind
But to roam all a-lone on the shore, shore, shore
But to roam all a-lone on the shore
'Twas of the young Captain who sailed the salt sea
Let the wind blow high, blow low
I will die, I will die, the young Captain did cry
If I don't have that maid on the shore, shore, shore ...
I have lots of silver, I have lots of gold
I have lots of costly ware-o
I'll divide, I'll divide, with my jolly ship's cres
If they row me that maid on the shore, shore, shore ...
After much persuasion, they got her aboard
Let the wind blow high, blow low
They replaced her away in his cabin below
Here's adieu to all sorrow and care, care, care ...
They replaced her away in his cabin below
Let the wind blow high, blow low
She's so pretty and neat, she's so sweet and complete
She's sung Captain and sailors to sleep, sleep, sleep ...
Then she robbed him of silver, she robbed him of gold
She robbed him of costly ware-o
Then took his broadsword instead of an oar
And paddled her way to the shore, shore, shore ...
Me men must be crazy, me men must be mad
Me men must be deep in despair-o
For to let you away from my cabin so gay
And to paddle your way to the shore, shore, shore ...
Your men was not crazy, your men was not mad
Your men was not deep in despair-o
I deluded your sailors as well as yourself
I'm a maiden again on the shore, shore, shore ...

© Copyright 2023 Roberts89 (roberts89 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2302491-The-Maids-Song