She stared at me in shock. “You talk differently than any other woman I know. You’re not just telling a story, are you?” she asked.
“No, I’m not. But I can’t leave this room because I'm afraid someone might realize I’m not supposed to be here.”
“They would think you’re a witch,” she finished my sentence for me. “Especially if they hear you talk. You sound smarter than most of the men I know. Some of the things you say don’t make sense either.”
“Exactly. I can’t hide who I am.”
“I don’t think my secret is as bad as yours,” she said. “But if he finds out I told someone; I’ll be hung as a witch.” Tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill over. She took a ragged breath and exhaled sharply.
I took her hand in mine and she squeezed my fingers back. “Who is ‘he,’ Elizabeth? What did this person do to you?”
“I don’t want to say who it was. But I’ll tell you what happened.”
Much to my shock and disgust she went on to tell me about how she had been raped the night before by a guest in this inn. I understood from my studies about this time period that there wasn’t anything she could do but remain silent and hope it didn’t happen again. The act was made that much more vulgar in my mind when she informed me that she had been a virgin prior to the event. I believed she was right about what would happen if she told. The man responsible would turn it around and blame her. He would say she seduced him to steal his vitality or his soul and everyone would believe him. No one would give her story a second thought. It was painful to think that this is the kind of place I was now stuck in. Where anything could happen to me, and there would be no one to care, no justice to be had. It made me very much afraid for my own safety.
“I am still bleeding,” she told me. “And it still hurts.”
There was no doubt in my mind that he had torn her, and she was probably very bruised from the encounter. “It was your first time, and he was not gentle with you. It will hurt for a few days, but I promise you will go back to normal.” I didn’t add that physically, she would go back to normal, but maybe not mentally.
I pulled her into a hug, and she clung to me. She cried in earnest now and I knew she hadn’t been able to really grieve over what had happened to her until this moment. I wrapped my arms around her and held her while she sobbed making small circles on her back with my hand. When she had cried herself out, she released me and wiped the wetness away with the back of her hands.
“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me,” I told her.
“But what are you going to do?” She held both of my hands in hers and leaned towards me. “Are you going to try to go back?”
I shrugged. “I really don’t know how to go about it. A witch sent me here, so I assume I need a witch to go back. But I don’t know how to find a real witch, and if I could find one, how would I ask her to send me back to my time?” That question had been weighing on me since I had woken up in this room.
I wondered if Sam and the professor were looking for me. I had gone to the bathroom and there were no exits between our table and the bathroom. If I had left, or been abducted, I would have had to pass the table again to get out of the restaurant. I wondered how long it would have taken before they realized that I had vanished. Did they put two and two together and realize the woman who had been staring at me, the one who was at my lecture, had something to do with it? I really hoped I would see them both again.
I bet Sam was ugly crying right now. No doubt she had already called my parents and they probably had my face plastered all over New Hampshire and Massachusetts by now. My father was a very prestigious lawyer, and had close friends in local law enforcement, so every cop probably has my picture in their car as well. It hurt my heart to think they may never know what happened to their only child.
“Are you ok?” she asked me.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about how much I miss my family. I know I’ve only been gone a day, but I feel so far away from them. Actually, I guess this is as far away as I can possibly get from them,” I smiled sadly at the irony.
“I will pray for you, that you get back to your family,” she said.
“Thanks,” I hugged her again.
She stood back up, brushed her skirt out, and tightened her apron strings behind her back. “Can I come back and talk to you again?”
“Of course, you can. I have nothing but time on my hands now.”
“May I offer some advice, Taryn?” she asked as she made her way to the door. “Be very careful with Matthew.” Her eyes narrowed at me.
I raised my hand to my mouth. “Oh God, he isn’t the one who hurt you is he?”
“No Ma’am! But he is the Witch Hunter General. He gets paid to find witches, if you catch my meaning. They will find witches where there are none and line their pockets handsomely. Be careful what you tell him, or you could become his next day's wages.” She meant every word.
“Matthew has been very kind to me,” I rose and met her in the doorway.
She shook her head slowly. “He may be kind to you, but what of his assistant? He goes everywhere Mr. Hopkins goes and is privy to much of his personal business. Don’t tell Mr. Hopkins anything you don’t want Mr. Stearne to know.”
That was a very valid point. Especially since John had shown no interest in me, no concern, not even curiosity after they found me. A normal person would at least want to know what was going on. He was just, empty, like there was nothing there at all. I made a mental note not to trust him and to keep my mouth shut when he was around.
“I will be back in a few hours with a fresh tray of food for lunch. Please let me know if there is anything else I can do for you, Miss Taryn. Anything at all.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth.”
She gave a little curtsey to me as she shut the door. I stepped forward and slid the bolt behind her. I put my back against the door and thought about what we had discussed. It was very reasonable to assume that I may never get back to my own time. I would have to learn to fit in while I was here as best I could, while I tried to figure out a way to go home. Elizabeth may be my best shot at learning to pass as a woman who belongs to the 1600’s.
The room was cold, probably not much warmer than the fall air beyond my windowpane. I wished the room had a fireplace so I could at least light a fire to warm myself, but no such luck. So instead, I laid back down on the bed and wrapped the quilt around myself. I thought of home, and I thought of family. I was excited by the prospect of exploring a world I spent a lifetime reading about, but I wasn’t sure the tradeoff was worth it. I wished Sam were here with me.
I felt the heavy feeling of loss in my chest and turned my face into the pillow, silently leaving little wet spots on its surface. Eventually, I fell asleep.
Chapter Ten
Matthew
I followed John down the stairs and as we passed through the tavern. The serving girl, Elizabeth, was filling empty mugs and wiping tables as she went.
“What a lovely piece of ass, that one is,” John said eyeing her backside as she bent over to pick up a discarded mug on the floor. She straightened herself back up and pushed her brown hair back away from her face, making eye contact with me. I saw her eyes were red and her cheeks were flushed. She attempted a smile when she saw me looking but noticed John at my side and immediately frowned, looking away.
“Elizabeth,” I said beckoning to her.
She hesitated to come to me. I didn’t understand her reluctance, I hadn’t been anything but kind to her. I would have to ask her when we had a moment alone if I had offended her in some way.
She looked at the floor as she stood before me, her knuckles white on the handle of the mug.
“Yes, Sir?” Her voice fluttered like a little bird as if she were afraid of me.
My confusion must have shown. She took a deep breath and met my eyes. “I’m sorry sir, it’s been a very hard day so far.”
“No need to apologize girl, I just wanted to remind
you to check in on the lady staying in my room.” I took out my coin purse and handed her a silver coin.
She curtsied, “Of course, Sir. I haven’t forgotten.”
“How are you today, Elizabeth?” John asked, smiling a crooked grin. He always did this in the towns we came to. He would scope out available women and lay the charm on heavy. He never had trouble finding two even three women who would allow him to take them to bed. With his devilish good looks, hair black as night and eyes that were bluer than the skies above, women seemed more than anxious to remove their clothes in his presence. Pair that with a voice that was deep and clear and a well-muscled physique, John was always the talk of town. I preferred to remain unnoticed.
The girl took a breath so sharp she could have impaled herself on it. She turned to go and knocked the mug to the floor and did not bother to retrieve it. She instead fled, all but running to the rooms behind the bar.
“What a strange girl,” John said from beside me.
I looked at him. He had the strangest smile on his face. It was a cross between the cat that got the mouse and something more sinister.
“What did you do to her?” I asked.
“Whatever do you mean?”
I turned my body towards him. “She was very obviously terrified by you. You had to have done something.”
He threw his hands up in a show of innocence. “Not a thing my friend!” he smiled and laughed a low laugh. “Not a single thing.”
I had known this man for years and yet I felt that he was not telling me the whole truth. Something about that strange smile he wore and the gleam in his eye made me feel uneasy.
He stepped towards the door and attached his cape around his shoulders. “Henry acquired a cart to pull behind the carriage. Now we can carry all the witches at once instead of running one at a time at that slow speed. We have seven names left on the list. You think we can get them all today?” he asked.
“I think all we can do is try.”
We walked outside together, and I glanced up and saw Taryn peeking out behind the window cover. When she saw that I had seen her, the cloth moved back in place and she disappeared.
John saw me staring up and asked, “You simply have to tell me how last night went.” He punched my shoulder lightly and I stepped back away from his playful banter.
“What are you talking about?”
“You bedded her right?”
I couldn’t believe he was asking such a thing. I had only just met the girl yesterday. Not to mention, she had been through quite an ordeal and was scared, hungry, and tired.
“What do you take me for?” I looked at him with dismay.
“I thought I took you for a man. You have a cock, right?” he laughed at his own joke. When I didn’t respond, he resumed his march to the carriage. “Well she is still in your room, so you’ll get another chance at her.”
“We are here to do a job, not bed women,” I retorted.
He climbed into the carriage and settled on the right side, I followed sitting on the left. Henry urged the horses into motion with a whip crack and we were on our way.
“So, what’s her story? Where did she come from, and how did she get onto the road naked?” he asked me curiously.
“I don’t know yet. She remained unconscious most of the night,” I lied. I didn’t feel it was appropriate to share her story with him when she had trusted me with it. Something inside of me told me it would be unwise to share with him anyways.
“Hmmm, well fill me in when you find out, huh? It’s quite the mystery.” He pulled our warrants from his cloak pocket to inspect the day’s quarry. “First on the list today is Joan Fern. Says here she resides alone. She has been named because she often comes into town giving townspeople the evil eye. Witnesses say she only has to look at you to curse you, she doesn’t have to say a single word.”
“Would be best round her up quickly then and not let her lay her eyes on us.”
“I brought a kerchief to blindfold the hag to prevent her curses,” he pulled a black slip from his trouser pocket and waved it in the air.
“Good thinking,” I said. “Did you bring the rope as well?”
“Something better,” he said. “Iron shackles. Rumor has it, the iron prevents a witch from being able to cast spells.”
“Is that so?” I was only half invested in what he was saying to me. My mind was still entangled with Taryn and her story. I was torn between desperately wanting to help her get home, and desperately wanting her to stay. I was having a very hard time concentrating on the task at hand.
“How is the witch we brought in yesterday doing?”
John glanced up from his papers. “Still awake. They took turns on her all night, she is delirious, seeing invisible demons dancing on walls before her eyes. I may not get to interrogate her if this keeps up. She may confess on her own,” he laughed. “Oh, come now Matthew! You used to think my jokes were funny.”
I rubbed my eyes, hard. “I’m sorry John. Sleeping on the floor last night didn’t give me much sleep. I think I’m just weary.”
“Well old friend, the solution to your problem is simple. Let the woman repay you for your kindness to her by joining her in that big bed and draining your balls. I swear you’ll feel as good as new. It’s very rejuvenating,” he slapped his thigh.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“You used to be a lot more fun. That girl has got into your veins like poison. She has thoroughly bewitched you.” Those were strong words from a witch hunter, and not words I wanted directed at Taryn.
“She’s no witch, John. Just confused and anxious to get home, as anyone would be.”
John looked out the window. “We are nearing the cabin now.”
I joined him in looking out the window. The small cabin was off in the distance. A plume of smoke rose from the chimney joining the large white clouds drifting by above. Long grass covered the field before us, and it swayed back and forth in the breeze. The evergreen trees to the rear of the cabin had heavy boughs and the forest was dark with no sunlight penetrating the depths. It was a serene landscape that you would never guess was tainted by the presence of one of Satan’s wives. We would remedy the situation and remove her from the picturesque landscape so that it could be pure once more.
I watched a doe raise her head up from where she grazed on the grass and wondered to myself how such an evil entity could live amongst God's beautiful handiwork. The carriage spooked the animal and she leapt gracefully away. I watched her until she disappeared into the woods.
“Whoa, whoa,” Henry called to the horses.
The carriage pulled to a stop only a few mere paces from the sagging door of the cabin. The door was open a few inches but slammed shut before our eyes. The owner of the property must have spied our black carriage through the crack. John and I made our way onto the wooden porch and I rapped on the door with the back of my knuckles.
“Go away!” said a voice from behind the door.
“Miss Fern, would you please come out so we can talk to you?” I spoke close to the door to the woman within.
“No.” she responded shortly.
“Oh, come now, we just want to have a little chat with you,” I tried to coerce her sweetly.
She hit the inside of the door hard with her fists. “Lies! I know who you are, both of you! Damn you both to Hell, I will not be tortured by the Witch Hunter General today!” John and I looked at each other, exchanging a knowing glance.
He counted to three, mouthing the words to me, then slammed his shoulder into the door. It took three hard hits for the thick wooden barrier to break, and then we were inside the cabin.
Joan Fern was nowhere to be seen. The cabin was full of herbs hung upside down from the rafters to dry. We pushed them this way and that as we made our way through the rooms. A screech reverberated from my feet and I looked down to see the tail of an enormous orange cat trapped beneath my boot. The creature twisted and bit at me trying to get himself free. I lifted my f
oot and it darted away quickly.
“The witch’s familiar,” John said, watching the creature make his escape. “There can be no doubt now that the hag is guilty as sin.” I nodded at him and continued the search.
John whistled and pointed towards a dark corner. Behind an old rocker a shape huddled under a blanket. The floorboards squeaked under our feet and the fire in the hearth seemed to burn lower the closer we got. In the time it took us to cross the room, we were plunged into almost complete darkness. The windows were all covered in some sort of fabric that allowed no sunlight to pass through.
We crept up to the chair, one of us on either side of it. John reached out and gripped the monstrosity and launched it into the center of the room with a deafening clatter. The old piece shattered on the impact and shards of wood exploded from it. John leaped on top of the hulking shadow, covered with the blanket and held on tightly as it tried to buck him off. It was the witch, and she seemed to have the strength of ten men. He struggled to keep his grip on her.
I rushed forward to help get a handle on her and her bony hand shot out from beneath the blanket and dug her nails into my calf. My blood left spots on the floor as both of us threw all of our weight on her, finally pinning her to the floor.
John pulled a set of the shackles from his belt and maneuvered them onto her wrists while she continued to try to pull away.
“I don’t think that will be enough to contain her!” I yelled over her curses.
“I have some rope too,” he said.
He grabbed her ankles and wound the rope around them. The remaining length was run up to shackles on her wrists and tied like you would tie a pig for the slaughter. She pulled hard at her bindings but could not get herself free.
“Looks like that will hold her.”
“Damn well better. She is as strong as both of us together!” I exclaimed.
“You better get that blindfold on her quickly before we get outside and she can get a proper look at us.”
The Witch Hunter Page 7