The Witch Hunter

by Candace Adams

  “The guards went back to your ramshackle little hut to see if there was anything worth taking. Can you imagine what they found there in your mess?” I asked her.

  The witch fell silent. She didn’t make a sound or move a muscle, it made me smile. It seems the leverage would work. “Matthew, have we ever tried a child as young as nine for witchcraft?” I asked

  “No. The youngest I have had warrants for has been the little one downstairs, I believe she is thirteen?” Matthew responded above the scared woman on the floor. “I do think that under the circumstances, with a witch for a mother, and no father, we could make a viable argument for her arrest as well though,” he said.

  “No! You will not touch her! Not my Charlotte!” the woman screamed.

  “Your Charlotte?” I asked. “So, the child is yours? Why did you not declare her when we came for you?”

  “Because then you would have taken her too,” she asked. “I told the girl to hide.”

  “Well hide she did. Just not very well,” I laughed. She began crying, mumbling to herself about her only child and never seeing her grow up.

  Matthew backed up against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, watching me work.

  “Bring the girl up here so she can see the woman her mother has become. Better yet bring the ropes and she can suffer right along beside her mother,” I said to the guards.

  “You leave her alone. Please, she is only a child, an innocent. She doesn’t deserve any of this,” she begged.

  I squatted down to her level. “What would you do to keep her safe?” I asked.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Matthew

  The witch had a child, but no husband. Who then did the child belong to? Did she steal the babe? So many questions. There had been no mention of her being married with her warrant. I hurried down the hall to the stairs that took me to the holding cells below. The stairs were made of huge blocks of stone, narrow and cold. Our party took them one after the other with no room to go side by side. John led the group of men.

  At the base of the stairs, we turned right, and the cells lined the walls. They were much nicer than the one large cell below the castle where the witches were being held. In the first cell, the child was seated by herself on a bench against the wall.

  I motioned for everyone to hold back and entered into the tiny space with her alone. “Charlotte?” I called out to her.

  She faced the wall and did not look up to the sound of her name. A large bonnet was on her head and she wore a dress that was far too short for her, as both of her legs showed up to mid-calf with no tights covering them. The child must have grown out of the clothes and the mother was either too poor to purchase new ones or too lazy to sew new dresses herself. Perhaps she was too busy conjuring and cursing to care what the child had upon her body.

  I called out to her again, but it still elicited no response from the girl. One of the men in the hall cleared his throat loudly, “Yes, what is it?” I asked while inching closer to the tiny body resting in front of me. I bent at the waist and tried to see under the bonnet, but I needed to get closer to her to do so.

  “Sir, we believe the child may not be able to hear. We walked right up behind her, but she didn’t turn to us until we touched her arm. Then she was in such a fright that she just screamed for what seemed like hours,” he put his hands on the bars. “We had to give her sweets to quiet her down. But she hasn’t spoken to us at all.”

  John rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “You might have told us that before, you bastard. How would we possibly get her to testify against her mother if she is an invalid?” I understood his frustration. “This is a waste of time. You should have just left that thing where you found it.”

  I crept up on the girl slowly and used a finger to tilt her bonnet up so I could see her face. “Is your name Charlotte?” I asked her, speaking loudly. She watched my mouth as I spoke and nodded her head up and down rapidly. I looked at the men. “She is not an invalid. But she is deaf. She has been taught to read lips.”

  “How is that going to do any good?” John asked.

  “She could still testify if we speak directly to her in a courtroom so she can watch our mouths,” I turned back to the wisp of a girl before me. “Can you speak child?” She slowly moved her head from side to side, dashing my hopes as using her as a witness.

  “Well, fuck,” John muttered. “The child is a mute too.”

  “What are we going to do with her?” I asked. “She is useless to us. If we leave her in here, she will be a drain on our resources as well.” The little girl watched me even though she could not see my lips move while I face the men. She had the strangest color eyes I had ever seen, not quite blue, more of a lavender or periwinkle. They really were quite lovely.

  “I say we throw her in the lake. We will tell the villagers we are swimming her, but she will drown. Oh, well wasn’t a witch, cross that name off the list,” John laughed.

  I sneered at him, “Really? You would kill an innocent child just because she is an inconvenience?”

  “What else could we do with her? What family would take a child that can’t hear or speak?” he asked. “Are you just going to walk her around town, ‘oh hello there, are you interested in adding this child to your family? Just so you know, not only is her mother a witch, but she also can’t hear or speak!’ I think that would go over splendidly,” he said.

  “We will have to leave her here for the night and figure out what to do with her at another time. Guards, can you bring her food and water? Some blankets?” I asked them.

  “Right away, Sir. What about her mother, Sir?” the guard with the damaged face asked me. “She is still tied up on the floor above us.”

  I had forgotten about her somehow. “Throw her back into the cell with the others. I have nothing else to say to her for today. Do untie her first though.”

  The guards looked at each other no doubt silently deciding who would be brave enough to remove her ropes. Neither of them looked like they were up to the task. “Oh, fine. Just throw her in there tied. I'm sure the other prisoners will release her. She is less likely to injure them in any event,” I said.

  “We will take care of her, Sir,” they rushed off towards the stairs.

  “Matthew, we can't be responsible for a child. I can barely remember to feed myself some nights,” John said. His arms were crossed again as he was apt to do when he was annoyed. “We can't very well bring her back to the inn with us, and she can't stay here forever.”

  “I know that. But I don’t feel like we have any better options right now.” Let's just sleep on it, shall we?”

  The ride back to the inn felt much longer than it really was. The child was weighing heavily on my mind and I really didn’t know what the solution to this problem was. I was the thinker in our group, I made the big decisions and worked out all the kinks, but this threw a wrench in everything. As John said, we couldn’t walk her door to door and ask people to take her in like she was a stray dog. We also couldn’t in a clear conscience just return her to the cabin on the outskirts of town and just expect her to survive on her own. Especially with her disabilities.

  What to do, what to do. The steady foot falls from our mounts were calming to my mind and helped me think.

  Arriving back at the inn, I was greeted by a beautiful woman with long flowing brown hair and a wonderful new velvet dress. It was my Taryn. She flew into my arms putting her arms around my neck. I lifted her off her feet in a tight embrace. “I had so much fun today, thank you so much for everything,” she said into my ear.

  “You look very lovely in your new dress, but you look just as lovely wearing nothing at all,” I whispered back. She pulled back and there was a secret smile on her face along with the hint of a blush.

  “Do you like it?” she asked, doing a spin. “I’ve never worn something so gorgeous in my life.”

  I chuckled, “Yes, it suits you.” I smiled at her fondly. “I hope you got more than one though, I can’t
have you wearing the same gown every day.”

  Elizabeth joined us outside, “She got three, Sir. We also got the pearls you see on her throat, shoes, and bonnets. And we had a lovely time seeing the countryside on our way to and from town.”

  “That’s fantastic, Elizabeth. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself as well.”

  John dismounted beside me, “Well fancy you actually clothed this time.” I glared at him and he shrunk in on himself. “Elizabeth, how are you today?”

  The girl blushed and looked at her feet. She was usually very outspoken and fearless. I had never seen her react like this before. “I am well today Mr. Stearne.” She gave him a forced smile and he sneered back until he saw me looking at him. He dropped his gaze and looked away as if he weren’t interested. But I caught it. What was he up to?

  “I need an ale,” John said. He turned and entered the inn saying goodbye to no one.

  “I should really get to work. I’ve been out all day so poor Harold has been on his own.” Elizabeth turned and took her leave as well. Her long skirts swished behind her as she walked showing just a bit of her slippers beneath.

  “That leaves just you and me,” I said to Taryn.

  A man standing outside the inn took notice of us. He was a wrinkled old thing with a shabby looking cloak and holes in his boots. He leaned against the building smoking a pipe and running a hand through his stringy white hair. “Brought your witch out to mingle today, huh?” he asked casually.

  “How dare you, Sir. She is a very dear friend of my family,” I pressed Taryn behind me to confront the man’s rudeness.

  He twisted a lock of hair around his long bony finger. “Your lies won’t work on me. I’m old, I’ve seen the world, and I know a story when I hear one. She is a pretty witch, though, isn’t she?”

  “I am not a witch!” Taryn protested stomping her foot. “Why would you think such a thing?”

  The old man laughed, “My lady, I’ve seen things, some I wish to remember, some I wish to forget. But I will never forget the sight of the great Witch Hunter General himself carrying the naked body of the witch he found lying on the side of the road. A witch that he seemingly fell in love with from the moment he laid eyes on. You must be a very powerful enchantress to have pulled off a love charm that strong.”

  Taryn pursed her lips together tightly, “I did no such thing. There is no such thing as witches. Just hysteria bought into by a crowd that spreads through fear and ignorance. People like you, who throw around accusations casually as if there are no consequences for them, you cause it all.

  “I am neither afraid, nor ignorant Ma'am, but evil does exist in this world. Witches do exist,” his eyes narrowed as he spoke. “The Devil is real, and his reach is great, and I am on to you.”

  I had enough of his banter, “That is enough, you old fool. Threaten her again and I will have you strung up in the city courtyard for everyone to see you take your last breath. Am I clear?”

  “Very clear, Sir. Just remember though, your reputation is on the line. If you continue to spend your time with a woman of questionable origins…..” he looked Taryn over from head to toe with his mouth slightly ajar, “then the good people will be less likely to take your word on matters. In fact, you may find yourself under scrutiny.”

  “Are you now threatening me?” I brought my face within an inch of his.

  He stepped back, “No, Sir. Just a friendly warning from an old man. Nothing more. Good day to you both,” He smiled and nodded to us. Flipping his cloak over his bent shoulders, he sauntered away leaning heavily on a cane and whistling a tune I had never heard before.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Taryn, I took both of her shoulders in my hands and gazed into her beautiful brown eyes. They were glossy, and she blinked repeatedly to prevent the tears from falling.

  Her voice cracked when she spoke, “I’m fine.”

  “It’s alright not to be fine,” I told her. “He’s just an old man, he doesn’t know what he is talking about. Don’t worry about him Taryn"

  She stepped out of my grasp, “How can I not? That is how hysteria is born, Matthew. One person makes an allegation, and dozens will buy into it out of fear. All it takes is one person saying the right things, and I’ll be taken in.”

  “Shh.. love. No one will take you in. I’m the person responsible for bringing in accused witches. You think I would arrest you?” In truth, warrants are given to me by city Magistrates. I don’t make them; I only carry them out. But at this moment, I would do or say anything to make her feel better and lessen her worries.

  “Please don’t lie to me, Matthew. You forget I spent my life researching and documenting everything pertaining to the sixteenth century witch trials, and you. Years and years studying every text, every book,” she put a hand up to her forehead. “Please don’t assume I am naïve,” she looked at me from under her long lashes.

  “Your schooling didn’t teach you everything. You said that we used retractable blades to fool people into thinking that witches were not bleeding when we stabbed their witch’s marks,” I said to her.

  “You did, I mean, you do!” she said.

  “No,” I shook my head. “I investigated this claim. I inspected John’s tools myself. I found his blade. I pressed my finger to its tip and the blade was sturdy. It did not so much as wiggle in the hilt, and it drew blood where it pressed into my skin. See?” I held up my hand to her to see the small scab on the tip of my forefinger where the blade had penetrated. “Not everything you read is true. You took the meaning and truths as you wished them to be.”

  “The old man was right about one thing, Taryn. Witches are real. Their evil is as real as you or I. The sooner you come to terms with that the better,” I told her.

  “You were raised to believe that’s true. Your father was a puritan minister, he preached about fire and brimstone, and the evil of witches around every corner.”

  I turned my back to her, “This is madness! How can a woman as intelligent as you, one that has been allowed a better education than nearly any man I know, be so ignorant to the world?”

  She took a deep breath behind me, “So, you think I’m ignorant because I refuse to buy into hysteria?”

  “No. I think you’re ignorant because you’re so focused on it being hysteria that you are not open to the chance that it could be anything other than that. You won’t open your eyes and see there are things in this world you cannot explain away. You believe that because you have read books, that makes you the smartest person in the room, but you’re too hard headed to realize that there is always more to learn.” I regretted my words immediately when I turned to face her and saw her hot salty tears rolling freely down her fair cheeks. I meant every word, but I hated myself for hurting her, even though it needed to be said.

  “How can you be sure I’m not right?” she said, barely above a whisper.

  I tried to move towards her, but she stepped back. “Because I live in this time. I have seen things with my own eyes, not read what other people thought on dusty pages. But you don’t trust me. You only trust your books.”

  My soul was in pain. I felt such guilt for making her feel this way. I wished we had gone inside straight away and never encountered that old bastard. But the damage had been done. The seeds had been sewn. I didn’t know what this would do to what had been blossoming between us, but my heart was heavy. I believed I was falling in love with her, but why would she want me now?

  “Can we just go inside?” she asked me. “It’s cold out here and I’m afraid that man will come back.”

  “No one will hurt you. Not while I’m alive,” I told her. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to warm herself.

  “I should have thought to have Elizabeth purchase you a cloak of your own while you were in town,” I unclipped the gold clasp at my neck and swept the heavy woolen fabric off my shoulders and draped it over her. Pulling it tight across her body, she inhaled deeply.

  “Daisies. You always smell like fresh cut da
isies.”

  “It’s the girl. Elizabeth. I pay her to wash my garments and she always uses daisy petals in the water. I scarcely notice it now,” I told her.

  She smiled, “She is responsible for the petals in the wash basin too then I assume?”

  “I believe so, yes,” She allowed me to come close to her. “Shall we go inside?”

  She didn’t say anything. There was no expression on her face. She turned and opened the heavy door and walked in amidst the loud talking and gay laughing of the men enjoying their evening. She walked past them, not affording them a glance and mounted the stairs to our shared room.

  I hated that she was angry with me. I hated that I couldn’t help her. She was in a strange place with strange people being subjected to strange things and I couldn’t help her get through them or help her escape them and get back to her home. My intense feelings for her made me selfish, I couldn’t stand the thought of her finding a way back to her time, even though I knew in my heart that would be the very best thing for her, but it was not the very best thing for me. In the short time that she had been in my life, she had pulled me out of my own Hell. A Hell where the only thing there was for me, was an intense drive to rid the world of demons. That was still there, but now there was so much more. I was hesitant to let that go.

  Funny thing was, even if I did desire to help her go home, I didn’t have the faintest idea how to do that. I didn’t know how to locate the girl I had released after her mother was found guilty. Who knew if she even had the capability to help Taryn now. She may have learned that ability far later in life. She also was more likely to hurt Taryn than help her, since she sent her here as a punishment to begin with. Who can trust a witch anyways?

  From the time I was a small child, I can remember my father holding sermons on the evil that is in this world. How the power of God had to overcome it, and how witches and demons were Satan’s hand on earth. I had seen so many things that I couldn’t explain in any other way except to be otherworldly. Magic was real.