The Mammoth Book of Celtic Myths and Legends (60 page)

So Marec began to earn a reputation as the most powerful wizard in all Cornwall and he became a figure of fear. Everyone began to avoid Castle Pengersick. It was recalled that his mother had
been the daughter of a druid, and this was why he had taken so obsessively to his enchantments.

It came about that a thief from Germoe, not far from Pengersick, who was reinforced by drink, one day tried to steal a sheep from the castle lands. Marec saw the thief taking the sheep, by means
of his magic crystal, and with his formidable knowledge he transported the thief onto Praa Sands, where he could not move and he was forced to remain there all night with the incoming tide washing
around him and coming to his bottom lip, so the man was in fear of drowning. Marec released him from the spell the next morning and gave him the very sheep the man had sought to steal, with the
admonition never to covet the goods of the lord of Pengersick again.

As Marec’s reputation grew, an old antagonist heard of him – Venna, who had once dallied with Marec on Praa Sands under the influence of the love potion she had administered and also
tasted. When she heard about Marec, she found there was still some emotion in her heart for him. She now dwelt at St Hillary Downs. Like Marec, she had learnt the secret of immortality, but by a
different means.

She enticed young women to the cave in which she dwelt and, by means of her wicked craft, she drew their life’s vigour into her body. They withered and died while she grew ever
younger.

Now people went to Marec and told him of this. He was basically a good man, in spite of his changing character. So he challenged Venna to meet him in a magical conflict. One night when she was
brewing her hell-broth, by which she intended to poison Marec, and with the flames rising higher and higher under the cauldron, Marec caused her door and windows to be sealed by magic means so that
she could not escape. Then he caused a clod of turf to fly up onto her chimney pot. The infernal vapour from her hell-fire caused her to choke to death.

Local people started to be alarmed by Marec’s growing reputation. They heard he conjured spirits in unknown tongues, that he commanded unruly spirits who did his will
and sometimes appeared in explosive clouds of smoke with pungent, fiery vapours. Several times, the people came to Skentoleth and asked her to intervene with her husband and subdue the fiery demons
or play her
telyn
, as she had in the old days, and drive away their evil power by the beauty of her music.

Many years passed. The people grew old and died but the lord of Pengersick and his wife and Utar and his wife remained ever young. They had a great and numerous family. Their children spread
throughout the world to seek their fortunes. When their children had children of their own, and their children had children of their own, the lady Skentoleth grew tired of an existence in the world
in which all she had known was long dead and gone. She turned to Marec and begged him not to keep prolonging their life – for, every twenty-one years, they had to drink his elixir, the
eva
hep deweth
. But the lord of Pengersick, while still young and virile to outward appearances, had grown old and ill-tempered and frightened of death. He refused.

So Skentoleth, with great regret for leaving him, pretended to take the elixir at the next appointed time but did not. Within a day, she lay under the sod and her soul went on its long-delayed
journey to the Otherworld.

Marec mourned a while, but returned anew to his enchantments.

A prince of Dyfed, hearing of the magician’s renown, arrived at Pengersick to seek Marec’s advice on a certain matter. While this prince was at Pengersick, he fell in love and
married the beautiful great-granddaughter of Marec, whose name was Lamorna. It was this prince of Dyfed who was to be the instrument of the destruction of Marec, lord of Pengersick. For the prince
had brought with him a quantity of black stones which were to be found in no other place than Dyfed.

Marec had been seeking the stone for years. He, by means of his alchemy, was able to extract a liquid dark fire from the stones. But he had over-reached himself for, by some
accident, in the handling of the liquid fire he placed a wrong vessel for its containment. The fire burst the vessel and instantly a great fire roared through Castle Pengersick. It
consumed Marec, it consumed the faithful Utar and his lady, and all the rare books of forbidden knowledge within the castle. No one else was harmed nor hurt by it. But Castle Pengersick became the
ruin which you see today.

This is why Marec was the last lord of Pengersick, why the castle has been abandoned and why no one from Germoe to Praa Sands ever ventures in the castle grounds after dark.

28 The Bukkys

L
ong ago, in the town of Carn Kenidjack, there dwelt a man called Tamblyn Trevor. He was a proud man and had a large family, and his pride was that
he could support them all. Not for him was the old Cornish proverb:
Yn Haf, porth cof Gwaf –
in summer, remember winter. For he did not save a penny. He doted on all his children and
gave them anything they wanted; new clothes and gifts. All were taken care of except one child.

Now that child was his eldest daughter. This daughter was called Blamey. Blamey Trevor remained at home, while her brothers and sisters went playing with the other children. She had to help her
mother in the house, with the sewing and with the washing. While all her father’s money went on his younger children, there was not a penny to spare for her. But Blamey did not mind and she
went about her work, singing like a lark.

Blamey Trevor was a good hard-working girl, but she had one fault, and that fault was curiosity. No one had ever been able to keep a secret from her.

It turned out that, one day, a cousin took pity on Blamey and invited her to stay a few days at their house in the next village. It was then that Blamey took a sight of the beautiful dresses and
jewellery for the first time. She went to a dance and saw that others had sweethearts to dance with and good clothes to go courting and fine food to eat, and when her cousin took her to Morvah
Fair, she knew that she was going to be dissatisfied with returning to old Tamblyn Trevor’s home and doing nothing but work.

When she returned, she began to grumble from sun-up to sun-down, and never gave her mother nor father any peace at all, always complaining about the drudgery in the house.
Finally, Tamblyn and his wife agreed that they would allow Blamey to seek her fortune elsewhere and, perhaps, go into the service at the castle of a lord.

Tamblyn and his wife were not bad parents, and so her mother made her new clothes and Tamblyn found a few coins to give the girl. Then the day came for her to depart and Tamblyn warned her never
to go near big cities like Penzance, for there were terrible stories of girls being kidnapped and taken on board ship and sold as slaves beyond the seas. He told her how strange sailors came to
such places and passed on diseases and other evil things.

So Blamey promised she would avoid Penzance and would find a kindly lord with a big rich castle, where she could work as a maid.

Then her father warned her against certain areas of the country where, among the hills, there dwelt evil witches and small people with magic powers. He told her to avoid going there. And she
promised that she would avoid such places and would find a kindly lord with a big rich castle.

Off she went.

But as she climbed the hill overlooking Carn Kenidjack, she felt her heart growing heavy at the idea of leaving home. She looked round at the village and saw the children playing and the smoke
rising from the hearths and saw her own home among them. She walked on up the brow of the hill and paused once again for a final look at her home.

Then emotion overcame her and she sat on a rock on the roadside and started to cry.

In the middle of this, she heard a hollow cough.

Before her stood a kindly looking well-dressed gentleman, who peered at her with great concern.

“
Dew roy deth da dheugh-why
!” he greeted in a kindly voice, using the language of Cornwall. “Why are you weeping, young lady?”

Blamey had never been called “lady” in her life, and she felt flattered.

“
Myttyn da
!” she replied respectfully. “I have just left home, and am on the road looking for a kindly lord’s castle where I might work and
earn my keep.”

The gentleman smiled broadly. “Well, luck may be in our way, for I am looking for a maid-servant. I had been told that there were some good servants to be had in Kenidjack, and had left my
home early this morning to come and seek one.”

Blamey blinked her eyes. Could it be so easy to find a job?

The gentleman sat down on the rock beside the young girl and told her that he had been left a widower with a young baby son to look after. He had an old great-aunt as well, who helped him in the
house but did not live there. There he was in the house, without a maid, but there was only one cow and some poultry to look after, so the work would not be arduous.

“What do you say, Blamey Trevor?” he asked. “Why not come along home with me? You look as fresh as the dew in the morning and it will be nice to have you as a maid. At least
you could come with me and if you don’t like the work, or if another job comes along which you find better, then you can leave my service when you want.”

Blamey thought for a moment and wondered how he knew her name, for she had not told him, but other thoughts tumbled into her mind. The gentleman was handsome and spoke kindly and was most
courteous to her, and he offered her a job which was most ideal.

Being an honest girl, however, she explained that she had no experience as a domestic servant, save that which she had received in her parents’ house.

“I am sure you will do well,” he said, apparently not bothered by this fact.

When she told him that she had also often helped with her parents’ garden, he seemed more than delighted.

“Then this is excellent. If you had time to spare, I suppose you would not object to helping me pick fruit or weed my garden?”

“There is nothing I would like better,” she agreed.

“Then let us start for my home,” he said.

So off they went.

On the way, he told her his name was Master Marrack Mayne.

They chatted gaily as they walked and so absorbed did she become that she did not notice the road they took, and only after a while did she realize that she had no recognition of the countryside
at all. The road ran through a beautiful wood, but the flowers were strange to her.

“Why, these trees and flowers are nothing to what you will see soon,” he told her. “Where I dwell, there are many such flowers and trees.”

So on they continued.

“Look, sir!” cried Blamey, spotting a great palace. “Is that where the king dwells?”

Master Marrack Mayne shook his head. “No, no. No king dwells there. There are many such great houses in my land.”

So on they went, until they came to a crossroads, where four roads met. They went straight on and came to a spot where a stream crossed the road. Then Master Marrack Mayne lifted her across the
stream so that she might not wet her feet.

She had lost all sense of time and it seemed that she had been walking forever, yet she was not tired at all. However, she realized that the sun was setting.

“Are we near your house now?” she asked.

“We are all but come to it,” the gentleman assured her.

He helped her over a river, via stepping stones, near the foot of a great towering cairn of grey rocks. Across the river, they went into a beautiful orchard of pears and apples. The trees seemed
to be bent down with the weight of the fruit. Along a winding path, through the blossoming trees, they picked their way and then, without her even noticing they had left the garden, they were in an
arbour. From the arbour, they stepped into a house, which was lined with beautiful plants and flowers.

In the kitchen were pots and pans of pewter which shone like silver and of fiery copper. A fire blazed in the hearth, even though it was summer time. Seated by it, on a high stool, was a sour
looking and primly dressed old woman and she was knitting, her needles going clickity-clack.

“I am home, Aunt Furneth,” cried Master Marrack Mayne. “I have found a new maid for us along the way.”

The old woman’s eyes stared at Blamey in such a way that they seemed to bore right through her. “So I see. Young and silly, no doubt. A girl who will use her tongue more than her
hands.”

“I will not!” cried Blamey indignantly.

“We shall see,” replied the old woman.

“Where is my son?” demanded Master Marrack Mayne.

“Here I am,” cried a little boy, skipping into the room. He leapt into his father’s arms and kissed him. He was no more than three years old.

“I have brought a maid to look after you, Marrack Vyghan; I hope you like her.”

The little boy turned and examined Blamey with a face as cunning as a fox and eyes uncommonly sharp. He examined her as carefully and as critically as the old woman. “Can’t
say,” he said. “Too early.”

“Well,” said Master Marrack Mayne, “we will show her what is to be done after we have had supper.”

Food was brought out and Blamey was invited to sit with them at the table while bread, cheese, apples, honey and many another nice thing was laid out before her. It was the first time that she
had nothing to do in preparing a meal. When they rose, Blamey offered to start work and clean the dishes but Aunt Furneth told her to rest until the milking time.

When the time came for milking, Master Marrack Mayne told Blamey to take a pail and go to the meadow by the orchard.

“Call ‘Festynneugh! Festynneugh!’ and the cow will come to you.”

So Blamey took the pail and went off. She looked around the empty meadow and then, feeling rather silly, she called as she had been instructed. “Festynneugh! Festynneugh!” –
which meant “hurry up!” Immediately a white cow, whose coat was breathtaking, came out of the woods and walked straight to the pail. Without Blamey doing anything, it put its udder over
the pail and showered down the milk so that, in a minute, it was full and almost running over.