Philippa Carr - Witch from the Sea

My time was fast approaching and my mother had come with Damask to stay with us. She brought Edwina and her little boy with her for it was almost Christmas. My father was on the high seas, so were Carlos and Jacko, who was now married.

They had not returned from the East Indies and my mother told me that so much would depend on the success of that first enterprise.

I was always happy to have her with me. I had been so immersed in preparations for the coming of my child that I had not thought very much about the amulet and the locket. Colum said no more to me about the amulet then and I thought he had forgotten them. He went away from time to time on his business and I did not accompany him.

So it was Christmas again and our thoughts were with the men on the high seas. Edwina I could see was anxious; my mother seemed to have a placid belief in my father’s survival through all conflicts.

She did tell me during her stay that Fennimore’s wife had that September given birth to a son who was named after his father.

My mother and Edwina decorated the castle hall. I was too cumbersome, my confinement being hourly expected.

And on Christmas Day of that year 1590 my child was born.

This time I had a daughter. I think Colum was a little disappointed for he would have preferred another son, but it was only a fleeting displeasure. I was twenty years old and already the mother of two healthy children.

My mother was delighted with the child.

“Daughters can be such a comfort,” she told me and kissed me.

Damask loved the baby and in fact when my mother went back to Lyon Court wanted to stay with us. However that was not possible and they left after the New Year.

For some time I was absorbed in my children. Connell was a lively child. I used to tell myself that this was just how Colum must have been at his age. He was going to be tall and strong, I was sure, and fond of his own way. Colum doted on him and was impatient for him to grow up; and sometimes it seemed that the boy was too, for to us in the castle he appeared to be far in advance of his years.

Mothers I know are supposed to love their children equally but I loved my little daughter with a single-mindedness which I believed I could never feel towards any other child I might have. Perhaps it was because her father showed less interest in her than he did in the boy. Perhaps she seemed more vulnerable than Connell ever had. He had appeared to be born with that self-confidence which he had inherited from his father. We called her Tamsyn, the feminine form of Thomas, the name of Colum’s father, and I added Catherine to that for my mother.

Through the rest of the winter, the spring and the summer I felt cut off from the outside world, so completely absorbed was I in my nursery.

Jennet adored the baby and she and I became more friendly than we had ever been and I was glad my mother had sent her to me.

In the August of that year my mother came to stay with us. She was eager to see the children. Tamsyn was now nearly eight months old and showing a decided character of her own. She was going to be a spirited girl. She had lost that air of helplessness which she had had as a little baby and was beginning to show a lively interest in everything around her.

My mother’s news was a little disturbing. My father with Fennimore and his father, Carlos and Jacko had all returned safely from the expedition to the East Indies. They had brought back rich goods and had started to trade with that part of the world. Alas, the journey had been a hazardous one and not all the ships which had set out had returned. They had mustered a fleet of fifteen vessels. Some had foundered and gone down with all hands; two had been captured by pirates; three had been engaged in an action against foreign ships the identity of which was unknown but clearly they had been some sort of traders. Out of the fifteen only eight had come into harbour, but they had been richly laden with spices, ivory and gold. Therefore the venture could be said to have been profitable.

“I thank God that our men returned safely,” said my mother, “but I pray for those poor souls who have not been so fortunate.”

I nodded and the memory of the San Pedro smashed on the rocks came back to me.

“I sometimes wish,” I said, “that my father and the rest were not seafaring folk. How much better if they pursued a profession ashore.”

“You are fortunate,” replied my mother, “in that Colum is occupied with his lands. I am glad for you, Linnet, that he does not make these long and hazardous journeyings.”

I nodded, and I thought of Colum who left mysteriously now and then and did not tell me where he had been.

My mother stayed until the end of September. I missed her very much after she had gone and a certain restlessness came over me. It was in this mood that the certainty that a great deal went on in Castle Paling of which I was ignorant persisted.

It was October. The evenings were fast drawing in and there was more than a touch of autumn in the air. Soon, I thought, the gales will be with us and my thoughts again went to the San Pedro which I had never quite been able to get out of my mind.

I found myself in the courtyard facing Ysella where I had discovered the amulet, and as I approached the iron-studded door I was aware of something different about it.

Then I realized what it was. The door moved. It was swinging ajar on its hinges.

The impulse was irresistible. I pushed it open and went in.

The first thing that struck me was the smell. It was strange and yet familiar. The place was close of course—little air came in. Then I realized what it was. It was the odour of sea water, seaweed, and a sort of musty dampness.

The door opened on to the hall which was very similar to that of the other towers. It was dark not only because little light came in but because this hall was full of articles. There were great boxes and piled objects of all kinds strewn about the floor. My foot touched something which made me cry out. I thought it was a man lying there trussed up. It was a bale of cloth. I bent over it. The sea smell was strong. It was slightly damp.

I made my way across the hall, stepping carefully round the objects which littered the floor. There were goods of all descriptions. What on earth could it mean? I could not understand it. How long had these things been here and whence had they come?

I went up the stairs. Along the gallery everywhere was permeated by this damp sea smell.

I pushed open a door and went in. I saw a wooden case. I went over it and looked inside. Some trinkets lay in it. They looked like gold and silver. I lifted one. It was a long gold chain. The workmanship reminded me of the chain Colum had given me with the ruby-studded locket.

As I stood there I heard a noise. I felt the hair on my head rise a little. I remembered suddenly that I was in Ysella’s tower, the haunted tower, the tower where Ysella had lived all those years ago in secret.

Almost immediately I overcame my fear. Someone was in the hall below. The door had been opened. Someone must have come in to get something.

I started along the gallery and reached the staircase. There was no one in the hall. Hastily I descended the stairs. A sudden feeling of panic had come over me. It was because the hall seemed darker than it had when I had entered. I saw why. The great iron-studded door which had been open and which I had left open was closed.

I hurried to it. I could not open it. Then I realized that it was locked.

I pulled at the enormous handle, but of course it would not move. The answer was simple. Someone had come in here, had either been in here when I entered and not seen me, or gone out for a while leaving the door unlocked and then returned, and locked the door.