THE DROWNED SAILOR

In a hamlet that had become deserted, one cottage was still inhabited. It was on a small hill that overlooked a graveyard on a cliff above the Atlantic Ocean. The people of the hamlet had left long ago in fear of two sisters, Griselda and Bevil, who dwelt in the cottage. Their dark demeanour would have been enough to cause fear but there had been many disturbing events, not least amongst them the disappearance of babies.

On the night of the Autumn Equinox, when the tides run high, whatever the weather, these sisters had a plan and they were working upon it. They intended to raise the dead in the graveyard. What their ultimate intention was in this I quail to think but certainly they needed slaves for some dark purpose.

”What does the Book say we need more Sister?” asked Bevil ”We have the cat’s skin, the belladonna, the vinegar and hawk feather.”

”We need the most exciting ingredient of all dear Sister, the heart of a drowned sailor. Oh! what a thrill to arrange for the getting of that!” Griselda grinned. ”This tide is perfect for it.”

”It’s time to raise a storm sister!” said Bevil.

They went out onto the cliff beside the graveyard, which looked down into a bay and a rocky shore. The shore was almost covered, and many rocks were already hidden under the waves. They faced the moonlit sea and began to chant. It was a chant that started quietly and followed the beat of the waves and it rose in volume and rhythm gradually until it became a howling frenzy and they danced and screamed. The wind got up stronger and the sea increased. The waves were high and ran in cross currents and smashed against the cliffs.

After a time, a ship came in view and was in great trouble. It was then that the sisters lit their beacon and signalled ‘safe harbour’ with lanterns. They watched with delight as the ship struggled to turn and reach the bay. It hit on the hidden rocks and began to capsize. The sisters squealed with glee as they saw men leap overboard trying to save their lives. Then they noticed amongst them a strong swimmer strike out for land.

”He is ours!!!” they shouted and rushed down the path to the rocks that remained below. They let the wind drop and watched the swimmer draw near. When he neared them, they stretched out their arms as if to save him. His strength and youth excited them when they saw him close.

”Let’s keep him a while and play with him” said Bevil, licking her lips.

”No time for that tonight sister, he must die and quickly while we still have the moon.”

Bevil looked peeved but agreed.

The young man reached the rocks and he grabbed their hands, near to exhaustion. As if helping him they pulled him toward them but then both leapt on him and pushed him under. He put up a great fight, thrashing about like a trapped fish in a net. He gasped, swallowing water. It took the strength of them both to drown him, despite his exhaustion. The will to live is strong in a drowning man.

When he ceased to fight, and they felt him heavy and limp in the water they dragged him onto a rock on his back with his arms and legs stretched out. His clothes were in tatters, but they stripped off what remained. Griselda and Bevil began to chant again.

Bevil took out a knife. It was shaped like a scimitar and had designs on the blade. It flashed in the moonlight just before Bevil thrust it into his chest and made a mighty gash. She cut in the shape of a cross. Tossing her knife aside she plunged her hands into his chest and tore his heart out. She held it up above her viscous face, letting blood drip into her mouth and down her neck, ecstatic at her triumph.

”Come sister, quickly, bring the heart to the cauldron” said Griselda.

They ran back to the cottage and completed their spell with many long, dark incantations and the burning of noxious incense.

At this time two things began to happen at once.

Out in the graveyard earth began to move and tombstones began to lean. At first this was a slight, slow, barely discernable movement. If you had been walking close by on such a stormy night you might not have noticed it, until the lid of a tombstone made a loud grinding noise and slid back.

Movement increased and the witches came out of their cottage to watch. They knew that their dead slaves were on their way and they watched as they came.

At first just a hand or an arm appeared here and there but soon the dead were crawling out of their graves in all their many forms and stages of decomposition. Some were skeletons, five hundred years old. There were the remains of men and women and children. The most recently buried still had parts of faces that looked like slick mud, hair and the remains of clothing and shrouds that still clung to them.

The dead stood stretching themselves and gravestones cracked and collapsed. The statue of an angel toppled and fell into the sea below.

Below in the sea the dead sailor with no heart slowly drifted down to the seabed. He rolled as he sank, his chest filling with water. The sea, deeper down, was clear and quiet. His body snagged on rocks and floated like seaweed until it broke free again. Small fish swam near him and followed, waiting for him to settle.

A mermaid was also watching. She has been greatly annoyed and disturbed by what she knew was an unnatural storm and she knew well the ways of storms as her father was the King of the Atlantic Ocean.

The mermaid had watched all the drowned sailors from the ship fight for their lives and knew she could not save them all and had watched them all drift downward too, after their lungs gave out. But she saw that this sailor left a red plume of blood behind him and drawing closer she saw the great hole in his chest, and no heart.

The mermaid, though she looked young and beautiful, was very, very old and wise and well learned and she knew what this lack of a heart in a sailor signified. She knew that this had been taken for a wicked spell and she knew what the spell would achieve.

She swam beside him and took him in her arms.

When the mermaid looked into the sailor’s face, with its blue, blank dead eyes she felt great sorrow because he was young and strong and beautiful. Holding him close she wept, and her tears rose up in bubbles. She was surprised to feel love in her heart.

She spoke aloud saying, ”Oh, fate is unkind that I should fall in love with a sailor drowned with no heart. If he had his heart, I could save him still.”

She sat on the ocean bed, holding the sailor in her arms, sobbing.

Sound carries far under the waves and her father heard her. Some time passed and then she heard her father speak.

”What ails you daughter, why do you weep? This was a bad storm and some sailors drowned but what is that to us? This is the normal way of things. They are now food for the fish that these men also eat whenever they can.”

”No Father,” she said ”This is not the normal way of things as this sailor has his heart cut out and this storm was not raised by you but was done for evil purpose. His heart has been taken to raise the dead.”

”That matters not either” said the King, ”If the whole land is full of walking dead, they may leave the oceans in peace. There is more to your tears than this daughter. Tell me the true cause.”

The mermaid fell silent a moment.

”I have never loved before Father, neither Merman nor man, but I feel a strong love for this sailor. Perhaps his spirit calls to me through his dead eyes. I don’t know the reason but, wise or foolish, I love him. I feel a terrible grief as if it were my heart ripped out and not his.”

”Ah!,” said her father, remembering the strength of the love of mermaids. He let out a huge sigh that turned the Atlantic Ocean tide against the pull of the Moon.

The Mermaid knew that her Father drew near her as she felt him all around her in the movement of the water. He placed a large pearl beside her.

”Take this pearl and replace his heart” he said. ”Mend his wound carefully after and then kiss him. He will awaken from the dead. And those who took his heart will pay for this magic in kind.”

At the moment the mermaid placed the pearl in the sailor’s chest the dead in the graveyard all turned as if one creature. They walked towards the witches who did not fear them, only assuming that the dead came to do their bidding.

The Dead surrounded the Sisters and threw them down in the mud of the graveyard and with a terrible sound, killed them. They tossed the sisters still beating hearts into the sea and their bodies after them as an offering.

The tide of the sea returned to the pull of the moon and the dead turned back to their graves. The sailor awoke in the mermaid’s arms, never to drown again

After a time the people of the village came to hear that their home was no longer troubled and they returned. They found the much-disturbed graveyard and wondered what could have happened. They cleaned it up and put flowers on all the graves and had a priest come and give a blessing.

They had no idea what had become of the sisters and only rejoiced that they were gone. They were not very curious but just wanted to get on with their former lives.

They also never wondered who the beautiful young lovers were who visited the fields by the cliffs, wandered in the woods and sat on the rocks by the sea for seven days each Autumn Equinox when the tides were high.

The villagers remarked that she had the beauty of an angel or mermaid though she was a woman and they praised the young man for his wonderful diving and the strength with which he swam. Beyond that, they raised no interest.

The woman wore a beautiful necklace of shells and the young man had a mermaid tattooed over his heart. They were never seen apart.