Philippa Carr: Witch from the Sea

“He be at the Teeth,” said Jack Emms, a dark-haired man with battered features.

“Why should he go there?” cried Fenn. “There’s no wreck. He’s been merciful of late. There has been no disaster there for the last two months to my knowledge.”

“There he be gone, Master.”

Fenn had the man by the throat. I had not known he was capable of such violence. It was born of anger which came from the love of his father. He could not forget that but for this man, his father would have been alive today.

“Tell me where he is. I will know,” he said, “or it will be the worse for you.”

I saw then that Fenn was a man with the strength of my father. I had thought him gentle and so he would be—gentle and tender; but he was an idealist as his father had been and now he was full of righteous anger.

“He be gone, Master, with Jan Leward. There always be cargo that stays in the foundered ships. We go out now and then to recover it.”

“I am going out there,” said Fenn. “I am going to catch him at his evil trade.”

“Nay, Master.”

“But yes,” cried Fenn. “Yes, yes!”

I was terrified. I pictured my father out there at the Teeth, with the howling wind whipping the waves to fury. And Fenn there … in the midst of his enemies.

I wanted to cry: “Don’t go. Jack Emms is your enemy. All these men are your enemies. They will destroy you because you have come among them like an avenging angel. You are trying to destroy their lucrative business. Fenn, don’t go.”

It would be to plead in vain. He was going to confront my father. He was going to accuse him of the murder of his father; and I knew he planned to kill him. He would not take the cowardly way out, to go away with me and live far away from Castle Paling. He was right, for neither of us could do this. I knew too that when the wind howled and the storms raged we should be thinking of sailors in peril near the Devil’s Teeth; and the cries of drowning men would haunt us through the years.

But if he was going out there, I was going with him. I leaped into the boat.

“No, Tamsyn,” shouted Fenn.

“If you go,” I retorted, “I am coming with you.”

Fenn looked at me and his fear for me overcame his fury against my father.

I said: “My father is a murderer. He has been responsible for the deaths of thousands.” I was thinking of my mother. He had not killed her but he had connived at her murder and married her murderess. And since her death he had not been a happy man. Fenn must not suffer a murderer’s remorse. I must save him from that. “Fenn,” I went on, “I beg of you, do not have his death on your conscience.”

His face hardened. “He killed my father.”

“I know … I know. But it is not for you to kill him. If you do the memory will haunt you all your life. Fenn, we have found each other. Let us think of that.”

But I could see he was remembering the father whom he had loved—gentle Fennimore Landor, who had never sought to harm anyone and who had dreamed idealistic dreams of bringing prosperity to his country.

We had reached the Devil’s Teeth. How malevolent they looked with a tetchy sea swirling threateningly about them!

A wooden chest with iron bands had been caught in the rocks and it was this which my father was trying to salvage.

“Colum Casvellyn,” shouted Fenn. “You killed my father and I’m going to kill you.”

My father turned sharply to look at him and as he did so the boat rocked dangerously. He stared at us for a few seconds in amazement, then he cried: “You fools. Go back. There’s danger here. What do you know of these rocks?”

“I know this,” answered Fenn. “You lured my father to death on them.”

“Go away, you oaf! Take yourself out of my affairs.”

Fenn had stood up and I cried out in fear: “Fenn, be careful.”

I heard my father’s derisive laughter.

“Yes, be careful. Go away, you … trader. You don’t understand this business. It’s too dangerous for you, boy.”

At that moment my father’s boat tipped suddenly and he was pitched forward. The boat turned over and he was in the water. I heard him give a cry of agony as he threw up his hands and sank. He emerged a few seconds later. The water was up to his neck.

“I’ll get him,” cried Fenn.

“It’s too dangerous,” I warned, but Fenn was out of our boat swimming cautiously to that spot where my father was.

“Go away,” shouted my father. “I’m caught. The Teeth have got me. Can’t pull myself free. You’ll kill yourself, you fool.”

Fenn ignored him.

Minutes passed while I watched in terror. The water was stained red and I thought: They will both be lost.

“Fenn, Fenn,” I cried. “It’s no good. There’s nothing you can do.”

But he did not listen to me.

It seemed a long time before I helped him pull my father’s mangled body into the boat.

He lay on his bed, my bold cruel father. The physician had seen him. Both his legs were injured. He had prided himself that he knew the Devil’s Teeth better than any living man, but they had caught him in the end. The eddies about the rocks were notoriously dangerous and when he had fallen into the sea he had been immediately sucked under. Strong swimmer that he was, he could do nothing against such odds, for he had fallen between the two rocks known as the Canines, the most dangerous of them all. And Fenn had saved his life. That is what makes me so proud. He had intended to kill him and in that moment when my father lay helpless and all Fenn would have had to do was leave him to his fate, he had risked his own life to save that which a short while before he had threatened to take.

So Fenn brought home my father’s poor mangled body and we did not need the physician to tell us that he would never walk again.

Melanie was there, cool and efficient. Dear good Melanie, we all had reason to be grateful that she belonged to our family, then—and more so in the years to come.

So my father lived—not the same man. How could he be? He who had been so active would never walk again. This was retribution. The Devil’s Teeth which he had used as his murder weapon on so many were turned against him. And the punishment he must suffer must be greater than death, for he was not a man lightly to endure inactivity.

Fenn came to me when the physician had gone.

We did not speak. We just looked at each other and then he put his arms round me and I knew that we should never leave each other again.

It was the next morning when we found my stepmother’s cloak on the shore. It was in that very spot where my mother had discovered her. There was nothing else but her cloak.

The inference was that she had walked into the sea.

There was a great deal of talk in the castle. The servants whispered together. Change was everywhere. The master had been struck by avenging providence. He would never stalk through the castle again. And the mistress had gone, the way she had come.

They had always known she was a witch.

Fenn wanted me to go to my grandmother until we could be married, but I said I must stay awhile. I must be with Melanie who was now pregnant and had taken my father under her care.

My stepmother had gone; my father was crippled. It was a stricken house; but the danger had disappeared.

Senara came to my room, her eyes wild. “Everything has changed, so quickly,” she said. “You’ve got your Fenn after all. Who would have believed it? He now knows what a fool he was to think that you could ever have stood quietly by and watched your father’s business. And you know what a noble gentleman he is. He sets out to kill and then saves. Now with free conscience and hearts beating as one you can begin to live happily ever after.”