The Witch Hunter

by Candace Adams

  Two guards pulled the heavy gates open for us when they saw our approach from the top of the walls. We rode in and dismounted, giving our reigns over to the castle’s stable master. He led our mares away, patting their velvety noses as he went.

  “Have the witches slept or been fed?” John asked the guard outside the stone staircase that led down to the large, one roomed cell, where the women were being held.

  “No, sir. We followed your orders. We have been banging on the iron bars every fifteen minutes and forcing them to stand when they try to lay down,” he held the door open so we both could pass. “They have been screaming curses at us all night. A lot of the men are spooked, Sir.”

  “They can’t curse you through the iron. Iron blocks their magic,” I told him.

  “The men will be happy to hear that.”

  We reached the bottom of the staircase and all eight women looked up at us, hopefully. Their eyes were tired and bloodshot. They leaned on each other to keep from falling to the floor. There was nothing in the cell except a large pot in the corner for them to relieve themselves in. I could smell the rank odor of urine and feces emanating from it.

  “Please Sir, I beg you for some water! Just a little drink or I should die right here!” Mary was the first to speak. The rest joined her, desperately wanting water, their voices meshed, and I couldn’t tell one from another.

  John kicked the bars before him, and they all squealed and fell silent.

  “Shut your mouths, whores, or I will shut them all for you.” The terrified woman huddled together afraid to speak. “This is what is going to happen. We are going to take you all, one at a time, and we are going to search your bodies for your witch’s marks. You are not going to fight us. You are going to follow orders, or we will force you to do so,” he paced the bars as he spoke. “You, the little one, you’re going first.”

  “I have a name, and I am not a witch!” the other women gasped as she stood, unafraid, before John.

  I stepped forward, “What is your name, child. I don’t recall it from our warrant.”

  “My name is Anne, Sir,” she kept her chin high and her voice level. She was easily the bravest of the eight women at the tender age of thirteen.

  “Well Anne, step to the door please. You are going first.”

  Her eyes went wide. She lifted her skirts and stepped to the iron gate. The master jailer pulled her through the opening roughly and slammed it shut behind again. He tugged her along roughly and placed her before me.

  “Where are we conducting the searches?” I asked him calmly.

  “The rooms above, Sir. Only one way in or out and no windows. A guard will be posted outside in case they try anything,” he said.

  “Very well. Let’s go.”

  “You’re joining us?” John asked me. “You usually leave this part to my discretion.”

  “From this point forward, I would like to be present each time to women are questioned.”

  “Why?” he asked me. He seemed very disturbed by my change of habit. “It’s your little witch isn’t it? Has she been getting in your head, old friend?”

  “Watch your words, John. You may be my oldest friend, but I will not tolerate you speaking negatively of her.”

  “You don’t even know her. But have it your way.”

  The jailor looked back and forth between the two of us and turned once he was sure we were done. John followed closely behind him, and the girl followed. I was behind by only a few feet. She never lowered her chin. She stood straight and she walked as if she hadn’t a care in the world. I both admired her strength and was afraid of it. Her evil would have to be rooted out quickly before it could be given a chance to mature. A witch with her courage could grow to be a mighty opposition.

  We were led to a room that had a long wooden table on one side and a crude bench against the wall. There was nothing else at all. No window, no tapestry of any kind. The table however, had paper and a quill with an ink bowl, a pair of shears, and a large paddle. John’s blade lay off to the side by itself and I crossed the room, taking the cold steel into the palm of my hand. I felt the heat from John’s gaze as I turned the dagger each way inspecting it carefully.

  “What is so interesting? You’ve seen me use that thing a number of times and you’ve never shown interest before,” he said flatly.

  I turned to him, “Actually, I’ve never been in the room when your methods have been deployed. I was just curious that’s all.” I pressed the tip into my fingertip and was relieved when blood pooled up around where it penetrated me. “It’s very sharp.”

  “Well of course it is!” he rolled his eyes at me. “How would I prove anything with a dull blade?”

  I sat the thing back down upon the table, satisfied.

  “Get in the room, girl,” the jailer pushed Anne from behind and she stumbled forward, catching herself before falling.

  She straightened and brushed her dirty dress down smoothing it like it wasn’t covered in mess and tattered around the hem.

  John leaned against the backside of the door and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  “Hurry up and take her clothes off. I haven’t seen the flesh of a woman this young in a while.” I looked at him in vile disgust. This wasn’t a woman’s flesh. Just a girl not yet ripe with maidenhood.

  “She is still a child, John,” I said to him.

  “I can see the roundness of breast beneath that dress just the same as you, my friend. She is more woman than child. Have you bled yet, girl?” he asked her.

  She blushed; the first emotion other than anger she had shown since we took her from her home, “I have.”

  “There you have it,” he said. “She is a woman, a small one, but still a woman"

  “Come here,” I said to her.

  She slowly walked towards me, watching John from the corner of her eye like she suspected he may pounce on her at any moment. I removed her dress and shoes from her. I tried to be as gentle as possible and whispered words of encouragement to her through the event. She stood before me shivering in the cold room as naked as the day the Lord made her, wrapping her arms around her chest, she shielded her small breasts and nipples from our view and slowly moved a hand to the crevice of her thighs where the start of downy hair was beginning to show as I slipped her dress over her small tapered hips.

  Through this, she remained rigid. Her head held high. “You are going to have to drop your arms. We have to see all of you to inspect your body.” She took a deep breath. One tear ran down her cheek. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  Her arms dropped to her sides.

  “John, are you ready to take my dictation?”

  “Yes Sir,” he said sitting at the desk, opening the ink and getting a page ready.

  I ran my hands up and down her slender arms turning forward and backwards. I then moved to her legs. If I found a freckle or a mole, I announced it to John, and he made note of it upon the page. I moved on to her torso, her chest and small breasts. Down her belly and back. I inspected every inch of her skin between her fingers and toes and the soles of her feet. I then looked through her pubic hair and had to spread her wide to see all her body. When that was complete, I took the shears.

  “I have to remove your hair to see your scalp, Anne.”

  She remained silent. Her tears had ebbed. She looked like she was dead inside and she no longer cared what I did or didn’t do to her. John handed me the shears and I cut her long, dark blond hair, off as close to her scalp as I could manage without hurting her. It fell in piles around her dirty bare feet.

  I ran my fingers over her mostly bare head and found a large dark red patch of skin about two inches wide. “What’s this then, Anne?” I held her head in both hands. John came and inspected the mark.

  “Clever to have had the devil hide his mark in your hair, girl. Too bad for you we are on to the devil’s games.” John made note of the mark and wrote ‘WITCH' in large letters beside her name.

  Anne shook her head
in fear, “No! I'm not a witch. It’s not a devil’s mark, it’s just a birthmark and it’s been there since I was a babe! Mother says it is where I was kissed by angels.”

  “That’s a devil’s mark girl. No angel would put their marks upon a mortal’s body. Admit it! Admit you have a covenant with the devil. Admit you conjure evil and curse the good, God fearing people, and reveal your coven members!” John started screaming at her, circling like a vulture. She had her hands to each side of her head and her eyes squeezed shut tightly.

  “No! No! No! I'll never say it! I'll never say I’m a witch! I'm not a witch!”

  “Tell the truth and tell us who your sisters in sin are. Tell us and save your soul.”

  Anne fell to her knees and put her head against the floor. She was screaming at the top of her lungs.

  The girl lunged forward and wrapped her arms around my leg.

  “Please Witch Hunter General. Please! Surely you can tell the difference between a witch and a woman!”

  I pulled out of her grip and she hit the floor hard. “You bear the mark, and you have been formally accused. You were seen sneaking from your home late at night with scraps and feeding several cats that waited for you in the tree line. Why would you do that if you’re not a witch?” I asked her.

  “No, I'm not a witch! I just felt bad for the hungry creatures!”

  “They were witch’s familiars. Admit to sending them out to do your bidding and collecting them again at night after their jobs were done,” John bent over her and screamed close to her face.

  Her naked body shook with her sobs. The floor was wet beneath her face. I lifted her up by her arm and handed her dirty slip back to her. “Put this on, child. We are done here for the moment.”

  She pulled it over her head and her tears soaked through the fabric.

  “Guard,” I called out.

  The door opened, “Yes Sir?”

  “Take this blasphemous little shit back to the others and bring us the next,” John told him.

  The guard grabbed Anne by the arm and all but dragged her from the room. She was barefoot, all but naked in the thin garment with her hair sticking up in patches where the cut was not even. Her pride was broken, but she maintained her innocence throughout the ordeal. The interrogations would continue for her.

  The next woman was brought in and promptly thrown to the floor. John took over with this one stating that my hand was too soft with the girl. I took up the quill and prepared to take notes on what he found.

  He was indeed much more rough than I. He held the woman down on the floorboards while he ripped her clothes from her thin, pale body. Her mouth bled from the pressure of being forced against the planks. She made mumbling incoherent noises as she could not speak for the pressure in her mouth. Swinging her arms, she caught John in the jaw. He spat blood upon the floor where it mixed with hers.

  “You whore!” he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. His teeth were tinged pink. He sneered at her with a wild look in his eye. “You will pay for that transgression; I promise you that!”

  “Perhaps if you weren’t so rough with them, this might go smoother,” I suggested.

  “Don’t presume to tell me how to do my job. You never cared how rough I was with them before, so why care now?” he wiped his blood on his sleeve, glaring at me, daring me to question him again.

  He pulled her body this way and that, announcing with fervor whatever mark he came upon. When it came time to remove her hair, he was equally as rough with the shears, pulling the hair on her scalp and cutting away pieces of flesh with her locks. He threw the skin and hair to the floor, where it was trampled beneath his boots.

  “You will burn in hell for the way you treat us!” the woman screamed at him.

  Spittle mixed with blood hit John’s mouth. He backhanded the woman hard enough that she fell backwards and hit her head hard on the edge of the bench and was rendered unconscious.

  “With any luck, the old bitch is dead, and we can burn her body and be done with it,” he spat again with less blood this time.

  I laid the quill down. “Then you’re content to be a murderer?” I asked him.

  “I do the Lord’s work. I don’t suffer the witches to live,” he motioned to the unmoving body justifying his actions.

  “She has not confessed, nor has she been found guilty. Therefore, if she dies, you will be tried for murder.” He slapped his arms against his sides, sighing heavily at me.

  He put his hands upon his hip, “You know as well as I that if I went to trial, I would be found innocent.”

  “In the court’s eyes,” I said. “But what about in the Lord’s?”

  That silenced him, “We should get back to work.” He bent down and put his ear to the old woman’s mouth. “She’s still breathing. Just knocked out.”

  He finished his inspection of the woman and I called for the jailer to bring her another white shift since John had destroyed hers beyond repair. I dressed her, and the jailor deposited her back into the ten by ten cell with the other seven women who were still barely awake.

  He took his time with the rest, heeding my warning, and we got through the last six harshly, but with no more incidents.

  I was more than ready to be done with today, but the questioning would begin tomorrow and would no doubt be worse than the inspection. God help us all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  John

  I felt the inspections had gone exceptionally well. We identified devils' marks on every one of the women. Their faces when they were stripped down and their heads were shaven, it was glorious. It was getting harder and harder for me to fully realize my potential as a witch interrogator, however, because Matthew's conviction seemed to get weaker and weaker. Indeed, when we began this years ago, Matthew was just as ruthless as I had been at ripping the truth from the demon's mouths at any cost necessary. As time had gone on, I had refined my tactics, and he had regressed. What’s next? Asking them to ‘please' confess?

  I didn’t speak to him on the way back to the tavern after all the witches had been put back in the small cell, which didn’t seem to faze him because he did not attempt conversation with me either. We rode in silence. The only sound was the horse’s hooves against the leaf covered ground, and the steady wind, blowing through the tree branches surrounding us.

  Henry met us at the inn and relieved us of our mounts.

  “Have an ale with me this evening, Henry. On me. My company of late has been severely lacking,” I looked at Matthew while I spoke. He didn’t seem to realize that I was talking about him.

  Henry stroked the pretty black mares’ nose and she nuzzled him affectionately. “Oh, I couldn’t Sir. But thank you. The Mrs. will be waiting for me and she isn’t too happy when I come home smelling like ale, nor when I miss dinner.” He whistled as he led the horses back to the stalls.

  “Its so hard to find good company these days,” I said under my breath. “I assume you’ll be running back to that girl again?” I asked Matthew.

  He turned to me, “About that. I need you to tell everyone who asks that she is the daughter of a good friend who passed away and that I am looking after her. I know you already told people we found her lying on the road, so we have to convince people that it didn’t happen that way. Tell them that she fell asleep in the carriage and I carried her inside to put her to bed.”

  “Why must we lie?” I asked him. “We did find her out there on that road. What difference does it make to you what people do or don’t believe about her?”

  Matthew put his hands up in a pleading manner. “Her life could very well depend on it. People are already talking about the strange circumstances in which she was found and it’s only a matter of time now before someone accuses her of being a witch.”

  “How do we know she isn’t one?”

  Matthew sighed heavily. “Can you just trust me this one time? Like you used to, please?”

  “This girl is ruining our partnership. Can’t you see that? She is corrupting your though
ts and making you soft. You could barely stomach inspecting those whores today. How are you going to handle the interrogations?” I was almost yelling at him. “She is turning you into a sniveling little girl!”

  “Enough!” he spoke over me. “I am still in charge here. I still make the rules. I still make our decisions. I’m telling you, you will put the rumors to rest. Do I make myself clear? If you can no longer follow orders, then you will no longer have a place in our operation.”

  I was shocked by his outburst. I hadn’t seen this much passion from him in weeks, and it was all over some bitch we found in the street left to rot. What was it about her that had him acting so differently?

  “Fine. Since you are not giving me the choice, I’ll lie for you. But just remember, this is the first time you have ever threatened my well-being for a woman. The only time you have ever let anyone come between our friendship. There is no coming back from that, Matthew.”

  “I am sorry, my friend. I just really need this right now. As does she. It is a life or death situation. I wouldn’t ask it of you if it were not.”

  I started walking to the entrance of the tavern. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. As I recall, there should be roasted lamb and potatoes waiting for me, and I’ve been looking forward to that all day. Good evening to you, Matthew.”

  “Good evening, John. I’ll see you on the morrow.” I took a seat close to the large stone fireplace and watched him as he sought out and approached the serving girl, Elizabeth. He handed her a coin and she rushed to the kitchen. She reappeared a moment later with a tray with two plates of food and a jug of wine upon it. Matthew inspected the plates, nodded, and she followed him up the stairs to his lodging.

  Elizabeth avoided me like the plague since our little rendezvous. It was a shame really, for I had really enjoyed it. I thought that after she had some time, she would have sought me out to have another go at it. Rather disappointing that she had not. Maybe I needed to remind her that I could easily have her thrown into a cell with the others.