Philippa Carr - Witch from the Sea

“That’s not true.”

“You can’t see yourself. All adoration and submissiveness! Asking him all the time to marry you.”

“I’m going to sleep.”

“You’re not,” she said.

“If we are to be fresh tomorrow we must sleep. It’s a long way to Trystan.”

“There’s a change in your voice when you mention the house, even. Confess, you are longing to be mistress of it.”

“I refuse to discuss such nonsense.”

“Nonsense it is. Listen to me, Tamsyn Casvellyn. You are not going to marry him. I’ll marry him myself rather. That would be fun, wouldn’t it? Suppose I married him instead of you? I will go to Trystan Priory. I will be the mistress there and poor Tamsyn will stay behind in Castle Paling until she is old and crabbed and filled with bitter envy because her blood-sister Senara married the hero of her dreams and lives happily ever after at Trystan Priory with her ten children and her handsome husband whom she has turned into the most attractive man on earth, for she is a witch, remember.”

“Good night, Senara.”

“I will not be dismissed.”

“Will you not? Then go rambling on for I intend to sleep.”

She went on talking and I pretended not to listen, and after a while she was quiet.

The next morning early the pack-horses were loaded with our baggage which contained our wedding finery, and in a big party at the head of which rode my father and my stepmother we set out for Trystan Priory.

What sad news awaited me there! Fenn had been called to Plymouth where he must join his ship. He had wanted to remain to see his sister married but that was not possible. He had to take his ship on a venture from which he hoped to return in six months’ time.

Senara looked at me mischievously.

“I arranged it,” she whispered.

I turned away impatiently.

“When our Queen came from Denmark,” she went on, “the witches of Scotland and Norway raised storms so that she was almost lost at sea. If they could do that why should not someone be sent to sea?”

“You talk such nonsense,” I said shortly.

“You call it that because you don’t understand. Is witchcraft nonsense?”

“Why will you continually harp on witchcraft, Senara? Don’t you see it’s playing with fire.”

“One of the most exciting things in the world, my good blood-sister, is playing with fire.”

“If you don’t get burned,” I snapped, my disappointment over Fenn’s absence robbing me of my usual easy temper.

“Nay, ’tis others who will get burned,” she said enigmatically.

I was uneasy about her, but she had always loved to tease people. She teased Merry about Jan Leward and Jennet about her lovers; but this attitude towards me and Fenn was beginning to upset me.

The wedding was celebrated two days after our arrival. Melanie made a beautiful bride with her blonde hair falling about her shoulders and her gown of fine silk and her kirtle decorated with threads of gold; two of her boy cousins led her to the church; they looked very charming with bride laces and rosemary tied to their sleeves. Connell was already there, led in by two young men who must be unmarried to perform this duty and each of these had bride lace on branches of broom tied to his arms. Carried before Melanie was the bride cup on which was more rosemary, gilded and tied with ribbons of many colours. The Priory musicians followed them into the chapel and all the young girls including myself and Senara followed. Senara and I being closely related to the bridegroom carried big bride cakes.

It was impressive as such ceremonies always were and Melanie looked radiantly happy and Connell well pleased. It would have been a wonderful day for me if only Fenn had been there.

Senara whispered to me as the pair were repeating their vows: “Whose turn next. Yours? Don’t be too sure of that, Tamsyn Casvellyn. It might be mine.”

I ignored her.

The ceremony over, the feasting began; it went on during the day and then we put the couple to bed with a certain amount of ribaldry. My father cried that he hoped they would give him grandsons and “without delay”, he added.

Connell looked a little sheepish and I was amazed by Melanie’s tranquility.

Senara said afterwards that she had come to the marriage bed in absolute ignorance. Within three days we were riding back to Castle Paling, my father, stepmother, my brother and his new bride at the head of the party.

Having Melanie in the house made very little difference. She was so quiet no one noticed her very much. A nonentity was Senara’s verdict. Connell took very little notice of her. He scarcely saw her during the day but shared her bed every night.

“Once she is pregnant,” commented Senara, “he will find his pleasure elsewhere.”

“You are coarse,” I told her.

“My dear Tamsyn, I am not as innocent as you.”

“I trust you are innocent.”

Senara shrieked with laughter. “You would like to know, would you not?”

“I do know.”

“You know nothing. You are blind to what is going on. You are another Melanie. You don’t gossip enough, that’s your trouble. Servants are the best informants. They rarely fail. Then of course I have my special powers.”

“I don’t want to hear about them,” I said, “because I know they do not exist.”

“One of these days the truth will be brought home to you.” She looked mysterious. “Now I am going to brew a spell. Your Fenn is on the sea somewhere. What if I brew up a storm as the witches of Scotland did? What then, eh?”

I felt sick with fear suddenly and Senara went off into peals of laughter.

“You see, you do believe. It’s all very well to pretend you don’t when the result doesn’t matter.”

“Please, Senara, stop this talk of spells and suchlike. Servants overhear. I tell you it is dangerous.” I took her by the shoulders suddenly. She had really frightened me when she had talked of Fenn. “If there should be a scare throughout the neighbourhood, if there should be such a noise about witches and witchfinders came down here, do you not see that you would be suspected … you and …”

She finished for me. “My mother.” She smiled then and her mood changed suddenly. It was soft and loving. “You do care for me, don’t you Tamsyn?”

“You are as my sister.”

“No matter what I do.”

“It would appear so,” I said.

Then she threw her arms about me in the impulsive, lovable manner which I knew so well.

“I taunt you because we belong together. I could never endure to lose you, Tamsyn.”

“Nor shall you,” I promised.

After that she was gentle for a while and when she was in that mood no one could be more charming or loving than Senara. If only she would always be so. She told me once: “There are two sides to my nature, Tamsyn, and on one of them is the witch.”

We had been back from the wedding for a week or so. The sun had shone almost unceasingly for four weeks without a drop of rain, which was unusual for Cornwall. I decided that I would water the plants on the graves for the earth was so dry it was cracking in places.

Since that night when the stone had been found few people went near the burial ground. They were certain that that stone had been placed there by some ghostly hand. Sailors who were drowned at sea often could not rest. It was said that at night one could hear cries coming from the Devil’s Teeth where many a ship had foundered. The fishermen coming in at dusk always avoided that stretch of water, not only because it was dangerous—they did not fear this because they knew those rocks so well—but because they believed it to be haunted.

I took my watering-can and, entering the graveyard, went to that spot where the three graves were. I saw it immediately. I stared and knelt by my mother’s grave. The stone which my father had hurled into the bushes on that night had been discovered. It had now been planted on my mother’s grave.