The Sea Witch Rewaved

by Nickita Dyalhis

spread before me, I told his that regardless of who I might have been in a dim and remote past of which I had no memory, in this present life I was plain Joan Craig, retired professor of anthropology, ethnology and archeology, and living on a very modest income. I explained that while I personally admired him, and he was welcome to remain in my home for ever, yet in the village near by were curious minds, and gossiping tongues, and evil thoughts a-plenty, and if I were to tell the truth of his arrival--

  'But I have nowhere to go, and none save you to befriend me; all I loved or owned is out there.' Again he indicated the general direction of the reef. 'And you say that I may remain here, indefinitely? I will be known as your niece, Heldar, no? Surely, considering the differences in our age and appearance, there can be no slander.'

  His eyes said a thousand things no words could convey. There was eagerness, sadness, and a strange tenderness. . . . I came to an abrupt decision. After all, whose business was it? ...

  'I am alone in the world, as you are,' I said gravely. 'As my niece, Heldar, you shall remain. If you will write out a list of a man's total requirements in wearing-apparel, I will send away as soon as possible and have them shipped here in haste. I am old, as all can see, and I do not think any sensible persons will suspect aught untoward in your making your home with me. And I will think up a plausible story which will satisfy the minds of fools without telling, in reality, anything.'

  Our repast ended, we arose from the table and returned to the living-room. I filled and lighted a nargilyeh, a three-stemmed water-pipe, and settled myself in my armchair. He helped himself to a cigarette from a box on the table, then stretched his long, slender body at full length on my divan, in full relaxation of comfort.

  I told his enough of myself and my forebears to insure his being able to carry out the fiction of being my niece. And in return I learned mighty little about him. But what he did tell me was sufficient. I never was unduly curious about other people's business.

  Unexpectedly, and most impolitely, I yawned. Yet it was natural enough, and it struck me that he needed a rest, if anyone ever did. But before I could speak, he forestalled me.

  With a single graceful movement he rose from his reclining posture and came and stood before me within easy arm's-reach. Two swift motions, and his superb body flashed rosy-white, as nude as when he waded ashore.

  The crimson silken spread he'd worn as regally as any robe was laid at my feet with a single gesture, the black scarf went across my knees, and the glorious creature was kneeling before me in attitude of absolute humility. Before I could remonstrate or bid his arise, his silvery voicerang softly, solemnly, like a muted trumpet:

  'Thus, naked and with empty hands, out of the wintry seas in a twilight gray and cold, on a night of storm I came. And you lighted a beacon for my tired eyes, that I might see my way ashore. You led me up the cliff and to your hospitable hearth, and in your kindly heart you had already given the homeless a home.

  'And now, kneeling naked before you, as I came, I place my hands between your hands—thus-----and all that I am, and such service as I can render, are yours, hand-fasted.'

  I stared, well-nigh incredulous. In effect, in the old Norse manner, he was declaring himself to all intents and purposes my slave! But his silvery voice went on:

  'And now, I rise and cover myself again with the mantle of your bounty, that you may know me, indeed your niece, as Jara Wulf knew Ragnar Wave-Flame!'

  'Truly,' I gasped in amazement when I could catch my breath, 'you are a strange mixture of the ancient days and this modern period. I have known you but for a few hours, yet I feel toward you as that old Jara must have felt toward that other sea-witch, unless indeed you and he are one!'

  'Almost,' he replied a trifle somberly. 'At least, he was my ancestress!' Then he added swiftly: 'Do not misunderstand. Leman to the old Jara he never was. But later, after she went to Valhalla, in the sea-girt isle where he dwelt he mated with a young viking whom Ran had cast ashore sorely wounded and insensible. He nursed her back to life for sake of her beauty, and she made love to him.

  'But she soon tired of his and his warlock ways; wherefore, in wrath he gave her back to Ran—and she was seen no more. Of that mating was born a son, also given to Ran, who pitied his and bore his to an old woman and her husband whose steading was nigh to the mouth of a fjord; and they, being childless, called his Ranhild, and reared his as their son. In course of time, he wed, and bore three tall daughters and a son. . . .

  'That was long and long ago—yet I have dived into Ragnar's hidden sea-cave and talked with Ragnar Wave-Flame face to face. All one night I lay in his arms, and in the dawning he breathed his breath on my brow, lips, and breast; and all that following day he talked and I listened, and much I learned of the wisdom that an elder world termed witchcraft.'

  For a moment he lapsed into silence. Then he leaned forward, laid his shapely, cool hands on my temples and kissed me on my furrowed old forehead, very solemnly, yet with ineffable gentleness.

  'And now,' he murmured, 'ask me never again aught concerning myself, I pray you; for I have told all I may, and further questioning will drive me back to the sea. And I would not have that happen—yet!'

  Without another word he turned, flung himself at full length again on the divan, and, like any tired child, went instantly to sleep. Decidedly, I thought, this 'niece'of mine was not as are other men; and later I found that he possessed certain abilities it is well for the world that few indeed can wield.She gave me another proof of that belief, by demonstrating his unholy powers, on the night of the next full moon after his arrival.

  It was his custom of an evening to array himself as he had done on his first night—in crimson robe and black sash and naught else, despite the fact that his wardrobe which I had ordered from the great city forty miles away contained all any man's heart could wish for. But I admit I enjoyed seeing his in that semi-barbaric attire.

  At times he would sit on the arm of my chair, often with his smooth cool cheek laid against my rough old face, and his exquisitely modeled arm curved about my leathery old neck. The first time he had done that, I had demanded ironically:

  'Witch, are you making love to me?'

  But his sighing, wistful reply had disarmed me, and likewise had brought a lump into my throat.

  'Nay! Not that, O Jara from of old! But—I never knew a mother.'

  'Nor I a fair son,' I choked. And thereafter, when that mood was upon his I indulged in no more ironies, and we'd sit for hours, neither speaking, engrossed in thoughts for which there are no words. But on the night whereof I write, he pressed his scarlet lips to my cheek, and I asked jestingly:

  'Is there something you want, Heldar?'

  'There is,' he replied gravely. 'Will you get a boat—one with oars and a sail, but no engine? Ran hates those.'

  'But surely you do not want it now, tonight, do you?'

  'Yes, if you will be so kind to me.'

  'You must have a very good reason, or you'd not ask,' I said. 'I'll go and get a centerboard dory and bring it to the beach at the foot of the cliff path. It's clear weather, and the sea is calm, with but a moderate breeze blowing; yet it is colder on the water than you imagine, so you'd best bundle up warmly.'

  'You will hasten,' he implored anxiously.

  'Surely,' I nodded.

  I went out and down to the wharves in the village, where I kept the boat I said

  I'd get. But when I beached the dory at foot of the path I stared, swearing softly under my breath. Not one stitch of apparel did that warlock have on, save the crimson silk robe and black sash he'd worn when I left the cottage!

  'Do you want to freeze?' I was provoked, I admit. 'The very sight of you dressed like that gives me the shivers!'

  'Neither you nor I will be cold this night,' he laughed. 'Isn't it glorious? And this is a good boat you brought. Please, let me sail it, and ask me no questions.'

  He took the tiller, hauled in on the sheet; the sail filled, and he began s
inging, with a queer, wild strain running through his song. That dory fairly flew —and I swear there was not enough wind to drive us at such speed.

  Finally I saw something I didn't admire. No one does, who dwells on that part of the coast.

  'Are you crazy, boy?' I demanded sharply. 'That reef is dead ahead! Can't you see the breakers?'

  'Why, so it is—the reef! And am I to be affrighted by a few puny breakers? Nay, it is in the heart of those breakers that I wish to be! But you—have you fear, O Jara Wulf?'

  I suspected from his tone that the warlock was laughing at me; so I subsided, but fervently wished that I'd not been so indulgent of his whim for a moonlight sail on a cold winter's night.

  Then we hit those breakers—or rather, we didn't! For they seemed to part as the racing dory sped into them, making a smooth clear lane of silvery glinting water over which we glided as easily as if on a calm inland mill-pond!

  'Drop the sail and unstep the mast,' he called suddenly.

  I was beyond argument, and obeyed dumbly, like any boat-carle of the olden days.

  'Now, take to the oars,' he directed, 'and hold the boat just hereabouts for a while,' and even as I slid the oars into the oarlocks he made that swift movement of his and stood nude, the loveliest sight that grim, ship-shattering, life-destroying reef had ever beheld.

  Suddenly he flung up both shapely white arms with a shrill, piercing cry, thrice