I am not witness to how the calamity unfolds the following day. I see only its aftermath. It occurs in the early morning, while I am stirring the scullery coals to life. By the time I run down to the pier, all I see is the blood and the panic on everyone’s faces. After speaking to those who had witnessed the incident, I can stitch together something close to a narrative of the bloodbath.

The fishermen had returned to their skiffs and sloops in the morning light. They had mended their nets and repaired their wooden traps, each man eager to make up for yesterday’s lack of catch. Eight boats left the pier that morning. Only five would return. A few of the fishermen were wary of venturing out since the mermaid had been spotted again. A mermaid would scare all the fish away, they said. These men changed their tunes when they saw Gunther the Brave climb into his sloop with sharpened harpoons, coils of new rope, and two oarsmen to propel his craft. He told the men that he was not fishing today. Nay, this morning, he was hunting mermaid. Emboldened, the reluctant fishermen cast off and rowed out into the bay after him.

Hugo’s boat was the first to be struck. He had let the oars rest to light his pipe when his vessel was hit from below, throwing him to the keel. His pipe was knocked overboard. Looking at the bow, he saw seawater spewing in from a break in the hull. He was sinking.

One of the fishermen—it is unclear who—hollered at his fellows, pointing to something in the water. “Look! Yonder, she breaks!”

The fishermen on the bay and the people on the pier all saw the creature break the surface, its long, eel-like tail arcing up out of the waves.

Gunther was already on its scent, roaring at his crew to row as he readied a harpoon. When the sail of the mermaid sprang from the sea, he hurled his spear with the ferocity of Torgrim wielding his flaming sword. He missed. Cursing in the language of all sailors, he scrambled to reel the weapon back for another strike.

Bjarni’s skiff was struck next, rammed with such force that it capsized. Thrown overboard, the red-haired fisherman flailed about in the chop, calling for help.

Gunther’s voice was heard echoing over the bay. “Come about, lads! Starboard now. Row, you cockless bastards!”

Sligo sang out when he saw the mermaid breaking again. With her fin slicing the water, her trajectory compassed straight to the floundering man. Those on shore heard his screams, but the fishermen saw the carnage with their own eyes. Bjarni was shaken to and fro in the manner of a shark attack and the water frothed with his blood. Brom said the man was dead before the monster pulled him under.