The Witch Hunter

by Candace Adams

  “What exactly should we call you?” I asked the fellow.

  “My mother called me Henry,” he said while wiping his nose on his soiled sleeve. The horses snorted and stomped their pretty hooves on the ground, he clicked his tongue at them.

  “Have you rope on the carriage Henry?” John asked.

  “Yes Sir. All you asked for is inside.” He grunted. “Where to first?”

  John opened the rolled-up documents. “First name we have is Mary Winthrop.”

  “I know where the woman resides,” Henry replied.

  John rolled the papers back up and safely tucked them inside his jacket before opening the door, holding it as I ducked my head and climbed inside. He stepped in behind me and latched the door. He had barely sat before we heard the whip crack and the carriage lurched forward.

  “How long do you think it will take to break this one?” John asked while checking the lengths of rope beneath the seat.

  He ran the thick cord through his fingers and pulled it taunt, testing its strength. There were several hundred more feet coiled beneath our boots and we would need it all to transport our prisoners to jail. Satisfied, he pushed it back under his seat.

  The carriage dipped with the deep ruts in the road creating a gentle rhythm while I contemplated, “I suppose that will depend on how badly she wants to redeem herself and be allowed access to heaven.”

  I leaned my head back and attempted to doze for the hour or so it would take to reach the farmhouse. The horses kept their steady pace and behind my eyelids I could envision their silky manes blowing in the breeze as the clip clop of their hooves lured me to sleep.

  As I drifted off, a woman with the face of an angel took over my dream. She was smiling at me and beckoning me closer. I had never seen a face more lovely than hers and I stretched my fingers to her, desperate to feel her long brown hair flow through them. Her eyes were the softest shade of brown and I could see tiny flecks of green around the irises, reminding me of the smallest buds on tree limbs in spring. Her lips were succulent, and I had a driving desire to cover them with my own.

  I felt as if I knew her, recollection washed over me. Her presence brought peace to my soul and a longing in my body I had never experienced while awake. My eyes traveled down her jaw and lovely white throat to the edge of her gown, revealing just a hint of the bosom beneath. I placed my hands on her tiny waist, lacing my fingers at the small of her back and slowly pulled her towards me. Her eyelashes brushed her cheeks and she tilted her face up towards mine.

  I took her mouth on mine, parting her rose-colored lips. So familiar. Why is she so familiar? She moaned and I tightened my grip on her waist. Her hands came up to my face, running down my cheeks. Mine. This is my woman. But where did that thought come from?

  I trailed my mouth down her slender throat. Her head rolled back, and she whispered my name. She knows me too. But how?

  “Matthew, I love you,” she whispered alluringly into my hair.

  “But who are you?” I didn’t bring my mouth away from her throat. Her scent was too intoxicating. “How do I know you?”

  “You have always known me. You will always be my love.”

  A large bump in the road jolted me awake. I was sweating profusely. My body had reacted to her and my breeches were unbearably tight. I immediately removed my hat and sat it upon my lap to hide my erection. Oddly, I could still taste her on my mouth. Her eyes still smoldered in my mind.

  My colleague had fallen asleep in his seat in front of me. Praise be, he never would have let me live that down. I took a few deep breaths and attempted to calm down. If only she were real. If only I could hold her now and taste that kiss again.

  “Whoa,” I heard the driver as the carriage came to a graceful stop. It leaned to the left signaling the driver had left his perch. A moment later the door opened. “We have arrived at the farm, gentlemen,” Henry informed us.

  John stirred awake. “It's about time,” he said while gathering his rope, draping it across one shoulder.

  “You didn’t enjoy your nap?” I asked.

  “Made my neck hurt.” He retorted.

  We started our walk up the dirt path to the front of the home. Chickens were running free at our feet and there was a cow tied to a small structure beside the place. The door opened and a man stepped out looking us over with a suspicious look. “If you’re here about the money, we don’t have it yet. We just need one more week.”

  “We’ve no need for your money. We’re here about your wife.” His gaze shifted to the rope John was carrying, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest, defensively.

  “Mary?” He asked. “What has she done?”

  “Mr. Winthrop, are you aware that your wife has been communing with Satan?” I asked.

  His jaw dropped open and I saw his mouth had but two black teeth inside. I imagined that his breath must have been quite rancid.

  “She most certainly does not. My Mary helps people. Just yesterday she made a salve of herbs from the garden to help Mr. Giles with his busted leg. No one communing with the devil would care to help a mean old man like him.”

  The door behind him began to open and he grabbed the knob and held it closed in a panic.

  “Please,” he said. “Please I beg you to leave her. She is all I have in this world. Our boy died when he was only a babe and God never blessed us with any other children. I don’t have anyone else.”

  He held tight to the knob while someone inside tried again in vane to open the door from within.

  “You stay in there and don’t you dare come out!” he hollered.

  John and I looked at each other.

  “Mr. Winthrop, you realize we have a warrant for your wife’s arrest. She is being charged as a witch. You will either release her to us, or we will go through you. The former will be much more pleasant, I assure you.” John pulled the papers out of his jacket as he spoke and removed the top page that had her name scrawled across the top.

  The man sighed in defeat and released the handle. The door flew open and a little woman nearly a foot shorter than her husband stepped out.

  “Have you come about the rent? Because my husband here gambled it away three nights ago.” She rolled her eyes, setting her gaze on the man. “I’ve been working my fanny off selling my herbs to make it back, but I need more time.”

  “Mrs. Winthrop, we are in possession of a warrant demanding your immediate arrest. If you would please come with us now, we can get this all sorted.” I held my hand out to the woman, beckoning her to join us.

  “Mary,” her husband spoke with tears in his eyes. “Mary, someone has gone and accused you of witchcraft.” His tears made a path down his heavily lined cheeks. A deep sob erupted from his chest and he sagged in defeat. “Why would anyone do this? We’ve never hurt anyone.”

  Mary rushed to her husband's side. He wrapped his arms around her, and she laid her head on his bony chest. She had tears in her eyes too and she held onto him like their love could save her from it all.

  John cleared his throat, utterly unmoved by their affection. “Mary Winthrop, you are hereby under arrest for the ultimate sin against our Father. Witchcraft. You will leave with us now and remain imprisoned until your trial.” He handed the warrant to her husband and took Mary by her thin arm.

  “No!” she screamed. “I don’t want to go!”

  “You should have thought of that before you danced with the devil woman!” He took both her wrists together and wound the rope around them, tighter than I thought was necessary. He pulled her away from her husband and we turned and led her to the carriage where he tied off the other end of the rope.

  “You will walk behind the wagon while we collect your sisters.”

  “I can't walk as fast as the horses!” she protested.

  “Then I suggest you run.”

  On their porch, Mary’s husband fell to his knees sobbing. “It will be ok Mary! Don’t worry love, everything will be ok.” He fell forward putting his forehead to the
ground. His tears were flowing freely now. Mary looked straight ahead hanging on to the little dignity she had left with her chin tilted up defiantly. She couldn’t hide her emotions, however. her cheeks were wet, and her eyes were red.

  John and I climbed back into the relative warmth of the carriage and he laid the remaining warrants on the seat beside him. “That went well,”he said smiling. “She will be a fun one. She has a backbone on her.”

  I felt bad for the man, I really did. I couldn’t imagine the pain he was feeling, knowing that in most cases, if you were arrested as a witch you didn’t survive the ordeal. If only he could understand that it would be far worse to allow the woman to remain in his house.

  Henry urged the horse into motion and the carriage began to move at a quick pace. The rope went taunt between the woman and the back of the coach and I parted the black curtain to watch as she was almost pulled off her feet. Her arms were stretched straight in front of her and she was moving her feet as fast as she could to keep from falling and being dragged. She lost a shoe as she struggled and continued the journey with only one.

  “Do you have enough rope for the rest?” I asked.

  “I believe so.”

  Thirty or so minutes later and Henry called the horses to stop again. I looked out at our prisoner and she was doubled over, breathing hard. She vomited and tried to move her feet out of the way but her wary body could not react in time. The rancid fluid covered her from her thighs down. I winced and wished I could offer her something to clean herself up with. “She’s still standing.” I said to John, closing the curtains back up.

  “Pity,” he retorted.

  “Gentleman, you should probably see this,” Henry yelled out from his seat behind the horses. “There seems to be a girl laying on the road with naught but the skin God gave her.”

  Incredulously, John and I looked at each other.

  I stepped out first and walked around to the road before the carriage. A woman laid on her side with her back to us. She had one arm beneath her body and the other propped up above her head. I looked her over starting at her long brown hair, her fair skin, following the curve of her ass and down shapely legs. The bottom of her feet were clean. How had she gotten there?

  “What the devil?” John whispered.

  “Miss?” I asked loudly. “Miss, can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

  No response. I walked forward slowly. “Miss?” Apprehension prevented me from running to her. It was very probable that this woman was a witch attempting to beguile us with her beauty. I crossed myself and felt for the bits of iron I kept in my pocket to ward off any spells directed at me. Cold metal bit into my palm as I located them and grasped them tightly to strengthen my resolve.

  “Is she dead?” Henry asked.

  “Hush you,” John said. “Let him look first.”

  I walked around the body. Her face was obstructed by her beautiful hair and her arm. There were no obvious marks on her. No blood on the ground or on her person.

  “Miss?” I said again. Still no response or movement.

  I kneeled and placed a hand on the ground to steady myself. With the other hand, I lifted her arm and placed it by her side rolling her onto her back. She was still motionless, but I could not see her face behind the hair tangled around it. I lifted the long locks gently and froze.

  It was her. It was the girl that had been in my dreams not hours before. Everything was the same. The long silky brown hair, her fair face and thick lashes. The girl inhaled sharply, and her chest rose with the breath. Her eyes shot open and found mine. Those glorious brown eyes with the green speckles.

  I reacted quickly and ripped my cloak from my shoulders and covered her nakedness. She rolled and curled her legs under the heavy fabric, realizing that she was fully exposed.

  “How did you get here?” I spoke quickly trying to discern what had occurred. “Did someone do this to you, or are you a witch sent to distract me from my cause?”

  She pulled the cloak up closer around her neck. “Where am I?”

  “Essex,” I told her.

  “Massachusetts?” she asked.

  “No, my name is Matthew,” told her, a bit confused. I had never heard of anyone called Massachusetts. It must be a foreign name.

  She looked perplexed. “Am I in Essex, Massachusetts, or Essex, Connecticut?” I was mesmerized by the way her mouth moved as she spoke, but her words didn’t make sense to me.

  “Essex, England. There is no other Essex.”

  Her eyes got wide.

  “Did you hit your head?”

  Chapter Four

  Samantha

  Taryn had been in the bathroom for a lot longer than it normally took her. She must have been having a serious case of the nerves. I looked towards the door expecting to see her any moment but there was nothing.

  “Homerun!” the professor exclaimed, jumping from his seat triumphantly.

  “I’m going to go check on Taryn,” I said to him, “She doesn’t normally take this long.

  He muttered something I didn’t catch as I slid out of the booth.

  Men moved out of my way easily as I made my way to the bathroom. I smiled at them out of habit. Taryn didn’t like me being too flirty when I was out with her, but she wasn’t out here to see it. Truth be told, I lived for the attention I got from men. I even enjoyed the envious looks I got from other women.

  The door swung open just as I reached it.

  Emerald green eyes locked onto mine. The woman who had been looking at my friend earlier exited with a satisfied smirk on her face.

  “How’s it going?” I asked her politely.

  “Infinitely better now.”

  She walked past me with her head held high, and I realized that all my admirers were now latched onto her as she strolled by them, smiling devilishly. I shivered watching her go. Something about that woman was not right. No wonder she had unnerved Taryn the way she did.

  I heard water running from inside as I pulled the door open. I expected to see my best friend leisurely washing her hands, but the room was empty. The stall doors hung open on their hinges and the spot in front of the sink was vacant.

  “What the fuck?” I whispered under my breath.

  I turned the handle and stopped the flow of water, looking around.

  Definitely no one here. Could I have missed her on my way in? Maybe she was right. Maybe my obsession with attention was causing me to lack situational awareness.

  Outside the bathroom, the sounds of customers enjoying their meals and the baseball game roared in my ears. Everything was too loud and distracting. The professor was still at the table, his eyes glued to the screen with the Red Sox looking larger than life, but the bench seat in front of him was empty.

  “Ok, seriously, what the fuck,” I exclaimed loudly.

  “Can I help you with something, Ma’am?” a server carrying a big tray asked.

  I looked at her, “No, I'm good, thanks.”

  Back at the table I snapped in front of the professor's face. “Would you pull yourself away from that garbage for two seconds please.”

  His eyes adjusted on my face. “What's wrong? Why do you look like that?” he asked.

  “Because Taryn is fucking gone, that’s why.”

  He didn’t seem concerned. “She’s in the bathroom. I'm sure she will be right back. You don’t have to get so worked up.” He shifted his attention back to the screen.

  “I was just in the bathroom. That weird lady was in there, but Taryn wasn’t. Something is wrong, I can feel it. We need to look for her.”

  The server arrived with our food and began placing the dishes in front of us. “Did you see where my friend went?” I asked her before she could walk away again.

  “No, I didn’t. I'm sorry,” she rushed off to another table flagging her down.

  I pushed the plate of food away from me.

  “Maybe her nerves got the best of her and she headed home,” the professor offered. He cut a chunk of his steak off and p
opped it into his mouth, smiling as the flavor hit his tongue. “That's some damn good steak.”

  “We came together. No way she would have left without me.”

  He paused with another big piece of steak poised on his fork. “Maybe she just assumed I would give you a ride home. I wouldn’t be surprised if she bailed. You know she hates crowds and she was front and center tonight. It probably just overwhelmed her, and she didn’t realize it until she got here.”

  Nope, that wasn’t my friend. No matter what was going on with her, she wouldn’t have just abandoned me here. Sisters didn’t do that to each other.

  “I’m going to go check the parking lot and see if the car is still here,” I said.

  He tipped his fork to me, “Good call.”

  “Here, just in case.” I tossed three rolled up twenties to him to cover our portion of the bill.

  He pushed them back towards me, “No, this was my treat tonight.”

  “You can give it back to me later then.”

  The parking lot was only about half as full as it had been when we arrived. Taryn's car was right where we had parked. She had not left the restaurant that way.

  My phone had no missed calls or messages. I dialed her number and waited while it rang. After the fourth ring, her voicemail picked up.

  “This is Taryn, I'm not available, you know what to do.” The beep that followed invited callers to leave a message, but I hung up.

  Instead I texted her, “It’s really fucked up that you would just leave and not say a word. You could have at least told me you were going.”

  I slid the device back into my back pocket, but after thinking about it for a moment, I sent another text, “Please tell me where you are so I know you’re ok.”

  Chapter Five

  Taryn

  I heard voices around me, but I couldn’t make out the words. My body felt like it weighed a million pounds and I couldn’t generate enough strength to lift an eyelid. I was vaguely aware that I was laying in the dirt. I felt so cold. I wished I could wrap my arms around myself, but I couldn’t move those either.