What manner of place is this? No light. No sound. I quell the terror rising in my breast and strain to listen, to hear beyond the muffled space into which I am squeezed. Timbers creak. The Earth groans. In the ensuing silence, I sense my own pulse; slow and distant as the stars; shallow as a leafy grave. I remember nothing. Nothing but a name. Daniel. The name opens a door. Now I remember Daniel. Rough, playful hands. Soft, skilful lips. I remember his flesh swelling in my disbelieving hands, his liquid spilling down my naked breasts and dripping from my nipples like a mother's milk, for a mother it will one day surely make me. I cry for him. Cry for myself. Dry silent tears that burn my eyes. I call to him, sing and cry to him. Save me, my love. Save me from this nightmare.
*
As battles go, it was tame, neither side really ever gaining the upper hand. Of the fifty thousand in the field it was said that barely two thousand were killed and even fewer were wounded. The uncharted landscape often thwarted us, forced us to merely sit and stare at the enemy across impenetrable marshland and uncrossable ravines. Cavalries charged and retreated; foot soldiers - many armed with no more than farming implements - momentarily resisted then fled our flashing flintlocks, only to regroup and resist again. When King James unexpectedly fled back to France with his army reportedly still in good shape, a bemused though grateful William claimed a famous Protestant victory and I, proudly counting myself amongst the thousand or so English troops that William had felt able to trust, began the long march home.
At Carrickfergus, we rested our weary legs and took stock while waiting to board the ships home. After a welcome meal of hot salty stew and blackened dripping bread, I took out my battered fiddle and tightened the bow. A present from my beloved, the simple boxwood instrument was my constant companion and reminded me daily of the gorgeous girl I had left behind. In return, I had gifted her a ring, a simple silver ring set with a solitary cube of the purest amber, and asked her to be my wife. Through tears of joy she had cried, 'Yes, yes, yes!'
I quickly tuned up and continued working, working on the reel that would one day be our wedding dance. From out the ether, pegged on a lilting line of Mary's sweet clear voice, words assailed me, words that spoke of a simpler, happier time, a time before this bloody war had torn us apart. I sawed the tune and sang the words and watched the sun set behind the rolling green hills, while in the east, a full moon rose like a pale ghost. A cold muzzle suddenly pressed to my back. A coarse voice issued an irresistible order.
'Danny, fucking shut up your caterwauling or I'll blow your fucking heart out.'
I curled under a tree, cradled the fiddle in my arms like a lover, and drifted into sleep, the words of the song still turning circles in my sleepy head.
*
Give me a box, a box of wood, to snare the wind, to cry and sing
And I'll give thee a box, a box of gold, to catch the sun as day's begun
In the silent darkness, there is suddenly music and singing. A full moon rises, turning rolling hills to liquid silver. My lover holds me, holds me in his strong arms, caresses me with his rough warm hands. He sings to me, over and over, round and round, a song of giving and catching and snaring, of loving and living and sharing. The pain is too great and I cry again, hot acid tears that freeze in their icy ducts. I am cold, unbearably cold, can barely recall what it is to be warm, to feel the sun on my face. Come, my love! Be quick, for I can endure this hell no longer.
*
The wind was high and the sea was wild. Many a sorry soldier spewed his bread and stew into the Irish Sea and I was amongst them. My stomach curled into a fist and punched the remnants of my bile over the side.
'A couple of hours, lad, just a couple more hours. Play me that song. You know? The one you were playing last night. Go on! It'll take your mind off it.'
I sat up against the rail, clutched my guts to save them from a salty grave, and squeezed the words out between dry biblical heaves.
'You've changed your tune, Billy. You were all for silencing me forever last night.'
A huge hand slapped my shoulder.
'That were last night. This is now. How'd it go again? A box to cry and sing? To catch the sun when day's begun? I liked it.' Chuckling, he stood and danced a surprisingly dainty jig. 'Can't get it out my fucking head!'
The wind whipped the sails and sang through the ropes. Again I heard her voice, as an echo of an echo cast from afar, reminding me of how, while I shaped the stones for our new home, she would bring me bread wrapped in rags and a pitcher of water, then sit and sing me songs, beautiful songs of her own making.
'Listen!'
Billy ceased his dance and cupped a hand to his ear.
'What?'
'Do you not hear the singing?'
'Singing?' He shook his head. 'I hear retching and splashing, hear timbers creaking and sails flapping, but there's no singing, Danny boy, only in your fucking stupid head!'
Muttering to himself, he stepped gingerly away, clinging to the rail for support while doing his best to avoid the swirling river of spray and puke that snaked back and forth across the heaving deck. The wind turned again, the ropes sang again, and this time I caught the words, chewed and swallowed them, and held them fast inside me.
*
Make me a box of skin and bone, for to sing the soul is my life's goal
And I'll build thee a box of slate and stone, to keep thee warm and safe from harm
I hear them. Growing nearer; gnawing nearer. I know what they are, know where I am, but cannot face it, submerge it, subdue it, douse my fear to preserve what precious air there is left. The teeth grow closer, the end grows closer, and yet, but for an occasional fluttering eyelid, I cannot move a muscle. Quick, my love! Hear my song that you will hurry home and save me from this terrible, terrible fate.
*
With her words stowed safely in my gut, I fell into a fitful sleep. The storm abated and the sea settled, rocking me gently while cradling me in her loving arms. I followed the music, down, down into the depths, where my beloved waited for me. Her outstretched arms snared me. Anguished words implored me.
'Danny! Oh, Danny! I thought you would never come! Quick, my love, while we still have time together.'
I kissed her, held her to me, squeezed her till she could barely breathe.
'You are cold, my love, so cold. Let me warm you.'
Taking her in my arms, I carried her to a bed of crimson linen, tore open her shift and gazed at her delicious body. Despite her deathly pallor, her embarrassment was palpable. My hungry eyes always caused her a rush of discomfort and, as always, she squirmed.
'Please don't stare so!'
'I cannot help it, my love. I have missed you more than you would ever believe.'
Reaching out, she closed frigid digits around my boiling flesh, squeezed me till I could barely contain myself.
'I believe...'
With those whispered words, she guided me between her thighs, slid my tip along her fragrant slippery lips and, with a sigh, allowed me inside her. Our flesh came together. Our mouths came together.
*
As battles go, it was tame, neither side really ever gaining the upper hand. Of the fifty thousand in the field it was said that barely two thousand were killed and even fewer were wounded. The uncharted landscape often thwarted us, forced us to merely sit and stare at the enemy across impenetrable marshland and uncrossable ravines. Cavalries charged and retreated; foot soldiers - many armed with no more than farming implements - momentarily resisted then fled our flashing flintlocks, only to regroup and resist again. When King James unexpectedly fled back to France with his army reportedly still in good shape, a bemused though grateful William claimed a famous Protestant victory and I, proudly counting myself amongst the thousand or so English troops that William had felt able to trust, began the long march home.
At Carrickfergus, we rested our weary legs and took stock while waiting to board the ships home. After a welcome meal of hot salty stew and blackened dripping bread, I took out my battered fiddle and tightened the bow. A present from my beloved, the simple boxwood instrument was my constant companion and reminded me daily of the gorgeous girl I had left behind. In return, I had gifted her a ring, a simple silver ring set with a solitary cube of the purest amber, and asked her to be my wife. Through tears of joy she had cried, 'Yes, yes, yes!'
I quickly tuned up and continued working, working on the reel that would one day be our wedding dance. From out the ether, pegged on a lilting line of Mary's sweet clear voice, words assailed me, words that spoke of a simpler, happier time, a time before this bloody war had torn us apart. I sawed the tune and sang the words and watched the sun set behind the rolling green hills, while in the east, a full moon rose like a pale ghost. A cold muzzle suddenly pressed to my back. A coarse voice issued an irresistible order.
'Danny, fucking shut up your caterwauling or I'll blow your fucking heart out.'
I curled under a tree, cradled the fiddle in my arms like a lover, and drifted into sleep, the words of the song still turning circles in my sleepy head.
*
Give me a box, a box of wood, to snare the wind, to cry and sing
And I'll give thee a box, a box of gold, to catch the sun as day's begun
In the silent darkness, there is suddenly music and singing. A full moon rises, turning rolling hills to liquid silver. My lover holds me, holds me in his strong arms, caresses me with his rough warm hands. He sings to me, over and over, round and round, a song of giving and catching and snaring, of loving and living and sharing. The pain is too great and I cry again, hot acid tears that freeze in their icy ducts. I am cold, unbearably cold, can barely recall what it is to be warm, to feel the sun on my face. Come, my love! Be quick, for I can endure this hell no longer.
*
The wind was high and the sea was wild. Many a sorry soldier spewed his bread and stew into the Irish Sea and I was amongst them. My stomach curled into a fist and punched the remnants of my bile over the side.
'A couple of hours, lad, just a couple more hours. Play me that song. You know? The one you were playing last night. Go on! It'll take your mind off it.'
I sat up against the rail, clutched my guts to save them from a salty grave, and squeezed the words out between dry biblical heaves.
'You've changed your tune, Billy. You were all for silencing me forever last night.'
A huge hand slapped my shoulder.
'That were last night. This is now. How'd it go again? A box to cry and sing? To catch the sun when day's begun? I liked it.' Chuckling, he stood and danced a surprisingly dainty jig. 'Can't get it out my fucking head!'
The wind whipped the sails and sang through the ropes. Again I heard her voice, as an echo of an echo cast from afar, reminding me of how, while I shaped the stones for our new home, she would bring me bread wrapped in rags and a pitcher of water, then sit and sing me songs, beautiful songs of her own making.
'Listen!'
Billy ceased his dance and cupped a hand to his ear.
'What?'
'Do you not hear the singing?'
'Singing?' He shook his head. 'I hear retching and splashing, hear timbers creaking and sails flapping, but there's no singing, Danny boy, only in your fucking stupid head!'
Muttering to himself, he stepped gingerly away, clinging to the rail for support while doing his best to avoid the swirling river of spray and puke that snaked back and forth across the heaving deck. The wind turned again, the ropes sang again, and this time I caught the words, chewed and swallowed them, and held them fast inside me.
*
Make me a box of skin and bone, for to sing the soul is my life's goal
And I'll build thee a box of slate and stone, to keep thee warm and safe from harm
I hear them. Growing nearer; gnawing nearer. I know what they are, know where I am, but cannot face it, submerge it, subdue it, douse my fear to preserve what precious air there is left. The teeth grow closer, the end grows closer, and yet, but for an occasional fluttering eyelid, I cannot move a muscle. Quick, my love! Hear my song that you will hurry home and save me from this terrible, terrible fate.
*
With her words stowed safely in my gut, I fell into a fitful sleep. The storm abated and the sea settled, rocking me gently while cradling me in her loving arms. I followed the music, down, down into the depths, where my beloved waited for me. Her outstretched arms snared me. Anguished words implored me.
'Danny! Oh, Danny! I thought you would never come! Quick, my love, while we still have time together.'
I kissed her, held her to me, squeezed her till she could barely breathe.
'You are cold, my love, so cold. Let me warm you.'
Taking her in my arms, I carried her to a bed of crimson linen, tore open her shift and gazed at her delicious body. Despite her deathly pallor, her embarrassment was palpable. My hungry eyes always caused her a rush of discomfort and, as always, she squirmed.
'Please don't stare so!'
'I cannot help it, my love. I have missed you more than you would ever believe.'
Reaching out, she closed frigid digits around my boiling flesh, squeezed me till I could barely contain myself.
'I believe...'
With those whispered words, she guided me between her thighs, slid my tip along her fragrant slippery lips and, with a sigh, allowed me inside her. Our flesh came together. Our mouths came together.
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I felt her fingers explore a miracle in the making.
We are joined, Daniel. We are one!'
'Aye, lass... and forever!'
'I love you, Daniel.'
'I love you too.'
Slowly, but with an inexorable momentum, our bodies began to move. She wrapped her legs about my waist and levered herself against me till I filled her. Each thrust brought us closer together; each parting allowed me languorous licks of her firm young tits. I paused on the brink, sucked on her nipples in turn then gazed into her eyes.
'I want children, Mary. A boy to take over the farm when I am gone; a girl as beautiful and lovely as her mother.'
Tears filled her eyes. She turned away, no longer able to meet the intensity of my gaze.
'Then cum inside me, Daniel. Cum inside me.'
I kissed her, a kiss so full of love, I feared my heart would burst, then entered her once more. She was clinging to me, simultaneously crying and sighing, her body quaking with earth-shaking sobs. Twisting her long dark hair through my fingers, I slid inside her again and then again, till pleasure threatened to steal my sensibilities. At the last second, I called out.
'A boy. Give me a boy.'
Her own climax took her, her face twisting into an expression resembling intense grief, as though the moment somehow contained a bitterness beyond my understanding. She clenched her teeth, squeezed her eyes tightly closed and cried out.
'Yes, yes! A boy. A boy...'
In the ensuing silence, I heard it. Earth shifting. Wood groaning. Gnawing. Gnawing. Gnawing. I opened my eyes.
Maggots danced in hollow sockets. Fat glossy worms snaked from taut blackened lips. Skin slid from fat. Muscle slid from bone. As I leapt to my feet, clumps of tangled hair came away and clung to my shaking fingers. I retched. Retched again. Spray stung my face. Wind whipped my hair. The words she'd fed me spewed from me, joined the bitter bile I cast into the ship's surging wake.
*
Within our box of love so strong, The Lord will smile and stay a while
Hurry, my love! Please! I beg you! Hurry!
*
Pacing the slimy deck, I watched the sliver of coastline grow till it filled my vision. Unable to wait, I strapped my pack to my back and plunged into the foam, thrashed my arms till pebbles then sand filled my grasping hands. On the outskirts of the town, a half sovereign bought me a sturdy nag and I drove her hard, quickly covering the seven leagues to my village. The horse steamed, her jaws foamed, yet I whipped her on till she stumbled and fell, her old heart apparently burst by her efforts. I covered the last mile on foot then frantically scrambled up the hill to where the old chapel hid amid a copse of trees.
*
Till in a box of wood we're laid and buried deep in peaceful sleep
The air is gone. It succours me not. Fingers curl and lips twitch, yet all other movement is impossible. Help me! Help me!
*
As I stagger into the churchyard, rain begins to fall, gently at first then steadily more heavily. Clouds swirl. Lightning splits the sky and thunder shakes the Earth.
'Help me! Help me!'
Breathless, I cry out, cry out, fall to my knees then sweep away the fading flowers and claw at the soft fragrant earth. The wooden cross topples. Stones tear away my nails. Again I cry out. Feet are running. People are shouting.
'Daniel! For God's sake! Leave her be!'
'He's gone mad!'
'She's dead, man, dead!'
I scream.
'No! She's alive!'
An arm rests around my shoulder.
'The cholera took her. She died painlessly, peacefully...'
'We buried her quick! Buried them all quick! But she was dead, Danny, dead.'
'It's true, boy! I'm sorry...'
Strong hands grab me, but I fight them off like a man possessed. I am filthy, frantic, scratching and scraping at the sodden ground. Once more I free my limbs from their grasp and push them away.
'Leave me be!' With wringing hands and heads bowed, they slowly fall back. I tear my hair and scream again. 'You buried her alive! Fucking buried her alive!'
The priest steps forward, raindrops falling from his sad old face like a river of tears.
'Daniel! She is with The Lord.'
An outstretched palm pressed to his chest shoves him back into the circle that now surrounds me
'No! Can you not hear her singing? Help me! Help me!' Dropping to my knees, I claw the earth again. 'Mary! I'm here! Mary! Mary!'
'Danny!' A familiar deep voice halts my pathetic excavations. 'Here!'
A shovel fills my hands. I dig. The silent crowd somehow stands firm against the flying clods.
*
And at the final clarion call, He'll search our graves in vain to save
Our souls...
The worms are here! They chomp and chomp, stamp and roar. Slice the soil. Slice and cry. Oh, sweet Lord! That voice! It is him! It is Daniel! Hurry! Please, God, hurry!
*
The shovel strikes a hollow box. A box of wood. I dig and dig and dig some more till muscles ache and breath tears from my lungs in ragged scraps. One, two, three times, the blade strikes the timber. On the fourth, it splinters. Prising the blade into the crack, I make a hole about a finger's width. Now I can concentrate on clearing the clay and loam that traps my lover in her premature grave. I'm standing on the lid now, shovelling with my last reserves.
*
But lo! No box of wood could e'er withstand a lover's hand
A light! At last a light! Even through closed lids it burns, but it's a blissful burn, a beautiful pain.
*
The lid is clear of debris. Faces peer down into the hole. Block the light. Soil rains. The flailing shovel becomes a weapon.
'Get back! Stand back! The sides will collapse! Fucking get away!'
An axe is handed down to me. I chop and twist. Chop and twist till the lid splinters, its timbers cracking like breaking bones. Now my hands can tear at the wood, pull it away in chunks that I hurl away like daggers. A foot. A knee. A naked thigh. I tear some more. Splinters pierce my skin, all but sever a finger, yet I feel nothing. Blood pours, splashes her naked belly, anoints her perfect tits where her shroud has been rent into two. My tears mix with the pounding rain and quickly rinse her clean. A final momentous effort and, with a crack like thunder, the last of the lid comes away in a single piece. I kneel astride her prone body and gaze into her face, her perfect sleeping face, and pray I am not too late.
*
Give me a box, a box of wood, to snare the wind, to cry and sing
I'll give thee a box, a box of gold, to catch the sun as day's begun
Make me a box of skin and bone; to sing the soul is my life's goal
I'll build thee a box of slate and stone, to keep thee warm and safe from harm
Within our box of love so strong, The Lord will smile and stay a while
Till in a box of wood we're laid and buried deep in peaceful sleep
And at the final clarion call, He'll search our graves in vain to save
Our souls. But lo! No box of wood could e'er withstand a lover's hand
So cry thee not, in time we'll be, again as one, my love, as one
*****
We are joined, Daniel. We are one!'
'Aye, lass... and forever!'
'I love you, Daniel.'
'I love you too.'
Slowly, but with an inexorable momentum, our bodies began to move. She wrapped her legs about my waist and levered herself against me till I filled her. Each thrust brought us closer together; each parting allowed me languorous licks of her firm young tits. I paused on the brink, sucked on her nipples in turn then gazed into her eyes.
'I want children, Mary. A boy to take over the farm when I am gone; a girl as beautiful and lovely as her mother.'
Tears filled her eyes. She turned away, no longer able to meet the intensity of my gaze.
'Then cum inside me, Daniel. Cum inside me.'
I kissed her, a kiss so full of love, I feared my heart would burst, then entered her once more. She was clinging to me, simultaneously crying and sighing, her body quaking with earth-shaking sobs. Twisting her long dark hair through my fingers, I slid inside her again and then again, till pleasure threatened to steal my sensibilities. At the last second, I called out.
'A boy. Give me a boy.'
Her own climax took her, her face twisting into an expression resembling intense grief, as though the moment somehow contained a bitterness beyond my understanding. She clenched her teeth, squeezed her eyes tightly closed and cried out.
'Yes, yes! A boy. A boy...'
In the ensuing silence, I heard it. Earth shifting. Wood groaning. Gnawing. Gnawing. Gnawing. I opened my eyes.
Maggots danced in hollow sockets. Fat glossy worms snaked from taut blackened lips. Skin slid from fat. Muscle slid from bone. As I leapt to my feet, clumps of tangled hair came away and clung to my shaking fingers. I retched. Retched again. Spray stung my face. Wind whipped my hair. The words she'd fed me spewed from me, joined the bitter bile I cast into the ship's surging wake.
*
Within our box of love so strong, The Lord will smile and stay a while
Hurry, my love! Please! I beg you! Hurry!
*
Pacing the slimy deck, I watched the sliver of coastline grow till it filled my vision. Unable to wait, I strapped my pack to my back and plunged into the foam, thrashed my arms till pebbles then sand filled my grasping hands. On the outskirts of the town, a half sovereign bought me a sturdy nag and I drove her hard, quickly covering the seven leagues to my village. The horse steamed, her jaws foamed, yet I whipped her on till she stumbled and fell, her old heart apparently burst by her efforts. I covered the last mile on foot then frantically scrambled up the hill to where the old chapel hid amid a copse of trees.
*
Till in a box of wood we're laid and buried deep in peaceful sleep
The air is gone. It succours me not. Fingers curl and lips twitch, yet all other movement is impossible. Help me! Help me!
*
As I stagger into the churchyard, rain begins to fall, gently at first then steadily more heavily. Clouds swirl. Lightning splits the sky and thunder shakes the Earth.
'Help me! Help me!'
Breathless, I cry out, cry out, fall to my knees then sweep away the fading flowers and claw at the soft fragrant earth. The wooden cross topples. Stones tear away my nails. Again I cry out. Feet are running. People are shouting.
'Daniel! For God's sake! Leave her be!'
'He's gone mad!'
'She's dead, man, dead!'
I scream.
'No! She's alive!'
An arm rests around my shoulder.
'The cholera took her. She died painlessly, peacefully...'
'We buried her quick! Buried them all quick! But she was dead, Danny, dead.'
'It's true, boy! I'm sorry...'
Strong hands grab me, but I fight them off like a man possessed. I am filthy, frantic, scratching and scraping at the sodden ground. Once more I free my limbs from their grasp and push them away.
'Leave me be!' With wringing hands and heads bowed, they slowly fall back. I tear my hair and scream again. 'You buried her alive! Fucking buried her alive!'
The priest steps forward, raindrops falling from his sad old face like a river of tears.
'Daniel! She is with The Lord.'
An outstretched palm pressed to his chest shoves him back into the circle that now surrounds me
'No! Can you not hear her singing? Help me! Help me!' Dropping to my knees, I claw the earth again. 'Mary! I'm here! Mary! Mary!'
'Danny!' A familiar deep voice halts my pathetic excavations. 'Here!'
A shovel fills my hands. I dig. The silent crowd somehow stands firm against the flying clods.
*
And at the final clarion call, He'll search our graves in vain to save
Our souls...
The worms are here! They chomp and chomp, stamp and roar. Slice the soil. Slice and cry. Oh, sweet Lord! That voice! It is him! It is Daniel! Hurry! Please, God, hurry!
*
The shovel strikes a hollow box. A box of wood. I dig and dig and dig some more till muscles ache and breath tears from my lungs in ragged scraps. One, two, three times, the blade strikes the timber. On the fourth, it splinters. Prising the blade into the crack, I make a hole about a finger's width. Now I can concentrate on clearing the clay and loam that traps my lover in her premature grave. I'm standing on the lid now, shovelling with my last reserves.
*
But lo! No box of wood could e'er withstand a lover's hand
A light! At last a light! Even through closed lids it burns, but it's a blissful burn, a beautiful pain.
*
The lid is clear of debris. Faces peer down into the hole. Block the light. Soil rains. The flailing shovel becomes a weapon.
'Get back! Stand back! The sides will collapse! Fucking get away!'
An axe is handed down to me. I chop and twist. Chop and twist till the lid splinters, its timbers cracking like breaking bones. Now my hands can tear at the wood, pull it away in chunks that I hurl away like daggers. A foot. A knee. A naked thigh. I tear some more. Splinters pierce my skin, all but sever a finger, yet I feel nothing. Blood pours, splashes her naked belly, anoints her perfect tits where her shroud has been rent into two. My tears mix with the pounding rain and quickly rinse her clean. A final momentous effort and, with a crack like thunder, the last of the lid comes away in a single piece. I kneel astride her prone body and gaze into her face, her perfect sleeping face, and pray I am not too late.
*
Give me a box, a box of wood, to snare the wind, to cry and sing
I'll give thee a box, a box of gold, to catch the sun as day's begun
Make me a box of skin and bone; to sing the soul is my life's goal
I'll build thee a box of slate and stone, to keep thee warm and safe from harm
Within our box of love so strong, The Lord will smile and stay a while
Till in a box of wood we're laid and buried deep in peaceful sleep
And at the final clarion call, He'll search our graves in vain to save
Our souls. But lo! No box of wood could e'er withstand a lover's hand
So cry thee not, in time we'll be, again as one, my love, as one
*****
