Blood and Clay

by Dulcinea Norton-Smith

  “Where are you off to by moonlight fair lady’ he said to me. His voice was like Heaven itself. It sang to my very soul and made me want to weep. ‘Off home to my baby’ said I, ’Where are you off to lad?’ ‘Nowhere and everywhere’ said he ’but now I see you I know I have arrived. Follow me my child’.

  Seemed strange him calling me child. I was old enough to be his mam but I followed. I don’t think I could have resisted if I tried but I didn’t want to resist. Not for a second. He led me past through the stone pits to a small graveyard on the other side. ‘Lie down pretty lady’ he said. ‘Let me suckle at your breast, you look full to bursting. Your baby is sleeping; she won’t need a feed until the morning. Let me ease your pain.’”

  I gasped. Though I didn’t not know the workings of men and women and the things they did when alone I did know that this sounded wrong; very wrong in many different ways but none of them that I could find the words for. Gran glared at me with her milky eyes before she started speaking again.

  “Don’t gasp girl. Don’t you look at me like I'm a common whore. He was right. My breasts were hard an sore and the milk had leaked as I walked. It seemed a bit wrong but I soon put that to the back of my mind. Glamour me with his devilish charms he did. Glamoured me into thinking it was alright, and he weren’t a child either. Not even a man; young or old. He were old as time. I'm not telling you this story no more missy. Leave you to your fate on your own I will.”

  “No, no, please tell the story, please Ma.” pleaded Mam who was dribbling from her fetid mouth with the rapture of hearing the story once again.

  Gran sat in silence once again and all I could hear was the creaking of the chair and the sizzle of the fire. Behind me I heard a small breathing noise and a slight creak and I knew that Nettie must be listening through the door. At least I’d have someone to talk to it about later, though quite how much Nettie would understand I didn’t know. Then Gran began to speak again.

  “Once my milk ran dry the boy sank his teeth into my side. Blood came and he licked it away. ‘I am Tibb.’ He said. ‘I’m older than time and more powerful than God himself. Give me your soul and I will give you whatever you bid. Not much use for a soul, you don’t need it, really but imagine what you could do with a bit of power; a bit of magic in your bones.’

  Well I had suffered poverty for far too long and I was ready for a better life for me and my baby.’ Can you get me money?’ asked I. ‘What is money? Just pieces of metal. I can give you better than money. I can give you power. I will do your bidding. You can use your power as you will.’

  ‘How do I give you my soul? How do you take it?’

  ‘Just a small ritual, a slice of flesh, a trickle of blood, then I have your promise that your soul will be mine and you have my promise that I will be but your humble servant.’ So I gave him my promise and when I awoke it was daylight and I was alone.”

  “Tell us more Ma. Tell us about Tibb” said Mam breathing too quickly. I felt uncomfortable at the story and uncomfortable seeing Mam panting in pleasure. It all felt so wrong.

  “Well for five years Tibb would appear to me as the sun was setting. ‘What can I do for you my mistress?’ he would ask. ‘There is nowt I need’ I would say. I was young and stupid and afraid of what might happen if I gave into his temptation. ‘As you wish’ he would say and he would smile and walk away. After five years had passed I saw Tibb again but this time as a brown dog, much in the likeness of your mam’s familiar Ball. ‘Let me do your bidding’ the dog said then he took blood from under my arm, leaving the Devil’s Mark upon me. ‘Aye’, I said ‘Avenge me on the farmer’s boy on yonder farm. He spat at my lass today and sent his dog after her.’ The next day news reached us that the farmer’s boy was lamed, trampled by a cow. From that day on I have been loyal to Tibb and him to me. Never been powerful enough to get riches though but now there are three…”

  “So who’s your familiar then Lizzie? It's not Tibb or Ball; we’d know it. Is it a cat? A lizard? Hahaha; a Lizzie lizard” Mam screeched at her own joke. As always no love shone through for her daughter. Not even now.

  I thought of the black dog that had been with me when the peddler had fallen down and had appeared to follow me ever since. I’d not seen it this morning but as soon as that thought entered my head I heard a scratching at the front door followed by the door swinging open. The black dog walked to me and sat by me on the floor. I leapt up and backed away from the dog. Its presence took on a whole new meaning now. One that scared me and I wanted the dog nowhere near me.

  “A dog; a black dog Ma” screeched Mam in delight.

  “Aye I see Elizabeth” said Gran, once again making me wonder how blind the old woman really was.

  “Aye, a brown dog for the mother and a black dog for the daughter. Just like Tibb’s coat; a black half and a brown half to make a whole. Familiars chosen by Tibb himself. We’ll need to have a naming ceremony to give the dog his voice so he can tell us his name. Gather the family Elizabeth and we’ll start to prepare”

  My breathing grew faster and the room began to spin. I didn’t want this. I ran through the open door and the black dog watched me go, no doubt awaiting my inevitable return.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As Abraham took away the untouched soup from his father’s lap he heaved a sigh. How long had it been now? A week? Nine days? So much waiting and still no change.

  Abraham had been fixing the house door latch when he had heard a cart trundling up the street. He had turned to see who was coming, it wasn’t often that any cart came up to the house as the street was quite narrow. As the cart stopped Abraham had been surprised to see that it was being driven by Constable Hargreaves and even more surprised when Constable Hargreaves went to the back of the cart and pulled out the unconscious body of Abraham’s own father, John Law. Abraham ran to help the Constable take the body of his father into the house.

  “What happened Constable Hargreaves? My father is not a drinking man, not before evening anyway. How did he come to be like this?”

  “I don’t know Abe. I didn’t see. When I came upon him he was jittering and a shaking on the floor and no-one was near him but I could a sworn I saw that Device whelp Alizon running away like the hounds of hell were at her heels. It’s witchcraft mark my words. I’ve already sent notice to Master Nowell. He’s down Clitheroe way seeing to some official business but I’ll be betting he’ll visit when he returns. He can’t ignore those witches anymore. Not after this.”

  That was over a week ago and still no visit from Roger Nowell. Abraham had spent every waking hour by his father’s bed and John Law had not moved from it. He was awake now but one half of his face drooped and his mouth worked constantly like a fish gasping for air yet no noise came out. Abraham tried to feed him and give him water but food and drink just slipped out of his mouth every time his lips moved and his father was getting thinner by the day. Just sixty years old he looked more like he was in his hundredth year and Abraham did not know how much longer he would last.

  As he cleaned out the bowl of uneaten soup he inwardly cursed the Device witches. For too long they had held the county in fear with just two of the herb dabbling crones and now the young one seemed to be just as bad. If Master Nowell did not arrive by the end of the week he would take matters into his own hands. There was more than one man of the county who’d be willing to join him in burning that God forsaken Malkin Tower to the ground as the Device family slept inside. There was a knock at the door which broke Abraham’s train of thoughts. There had been many visitors over the last few days. Though he had a quick temper John Law also had many friends in the village and the visits to drop off butter beer, bread and soups had been plentiful. As the week had passed there had been fewer and fewer visitors however. Though quick to pay their respects many remembered being on the wrong side of John Law’s temper and their charity and mild friendships did not extend past one or two uncomfortable bedside visits.

  As Abraham went to the door he wiped his hands on
his woollen breeches which soaked up very little but did dry his hands enough to make a handshake possible. As he opened the door he was surprised to see that the visitor was the long awaited Roger Nowell.

  “Mr Nowell sir, at last. Come in, come in. Can I get you a drink? A spot to eat? You need to see my father. What are you going to do about those witches?”

  “Settle down Abraham. Let me talk to your father before we go any further.”

  “Won’t get anything from him Mr Nowell. He just gapes like he is moonstruck. It was that Alizon Device what did it. Did your Constable not say? Arrest her. Send her to the gallows.”

  “Now Abraham you know I can’t do that. Not without witnesses or a confession. Let me see your father. Let’s take it from there.”

  Grumbling to himself Abraham showed the way to the bedroom and let Roger in. Roger went to the chair beside the bed and sat down.

  “Afternoon John. I have not seen you since last harvest. How are you?”

  John continued to stare blankly out of the window. His mouth worked in intricate patterns, never closing, always moving, and a string of dribble making its way from his bottom lip to his bed shirt.

  “Now John, your son and Constable Hargreaves say that this did not happen on its own, that it may be the forces of evil at play. Is that so?”

  John continued to stare out of the window, his mouth worked faster but still no sound came out.

  “John did the child they call Alizon Device do this to you?”

  John Law suddenly grunted and turned his head, with great effort, to face Roger Nowell and his son. His eyes suddenly changed from the glassy stare to a look of terror.

  “Is that enough for you?” shouted Abraham. “That is the most I have seen in all these days. The first noise he has made, the first time he has stopped staring out of that infernal window. What are you going to do?”

  “Yes Abraham it is enough to know that she was involved but not enough to arrest her. There are no more witnesses, none as can testify in the assizes at any rate” Roger’s eyes moved to look at John in his distant state as he said this. “We need a confession. I will visit Malkin Tower to talk to the girl.”

  “She won’t confess. She won’t tell the truth not even if God himself held her to account. She…”

  Abraham was red in the face and getting more and more agitated when his tirade was interrupted by a knock at the door. Roger sat by the bed and said a prayer for John as he waited for Abraham’s return.

  When Abraham walked back into the room he wasn’t alone. Trying to stay on her feet as she was dragged by the arm was none other than Alizon Device.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I held back the tears which began to prickle my eyes and make my nose run as the peddler’s son grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the house. Gabe followed, shouting at the man to let me go. He grabbed his arm but the man was in a fair fury and just pulled away. I knew, all of a sudden, that this had been a bad idea. Just moments before I had been enjoying my walk, hand in hand, with Gabe. Ready to say sorry and move on and ready for the new life that would follow with Gabe. I had told him Gran’s tale and about Tibb and the black dog but he said it was rubbish. Just Gran’s superstitions. He said we would leave together, that I could live with him and his Mam and Pa until we could afford a place of our own then we could steal Nettie away to live with us. It had been the start of something new and I had felt free for the first time in my life.

  Now I felt dread in every bone. My family didn’t know where I was. I wondered if they would even care. They were busy preparing Malkin Tower for the naming ceremony that was planned for my familiar the following night. This had been my last chance to repent and make peace; to try to appease God before my soul was promised to Tibb and his familiars and after that… I didn’t even want to think about it. Either I would have gone the way of Gran and Mam or I would have gone with Gabe but even then, would Nettie have taken my place? Would they have hunted me down? It had been a worry but not so worrying as it was to be dragged into the house by this huge man.

  Just as I felt the tears start to well up to the point of spilling onto my cheeks the peddler’s son dragged then shoved me into a room but we were not alone. I sighed with relief as I saw the Magistrate Roger Nowell. I knew that nothing bad would happen while he was here. Gabe followed me into the room.

  “Uncle Roger! I mean... Mr Nowell, sorry Sir. Stop them. Lizzie didn’t mean no harm.”

  “It’s out of my hands Gabriel. I am sorry my child. Let us just see what young Alizon has to say for herself.”

  Everyone looked at me and I was about to speak and apologise when I looked around the room.

  My relief soon turned to sorrow and guilt as I saw the man in the bed. He looked nothing like the man I’d seen just over a week ago. Gone was the sun brushed face and the ruddy red cheeks and in its place was sallow skin which seemed to be hanging off the bones underneath. He stared at me with watery eyes and one side of his face drooped. I dropped to the floor at the bottom of John Law’s bed and sobbed.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t know how I did it. The dog did something. He does my bidding but I didn’t know. I didn’t want to curse you; didn’t know I could. Now they want me to be a witch. I’m sorry, so sorry.”

  With the final words I began to sob harder until I was gasping for breath and was unable to speak. I heard movement behind me and then Mr Nowell’s hushed whisper. “No Gabriel, not yet.”

  For a while all in the room was silent apart from my sobbing until I suddenly became aware of another voice crying. I looked up in surprise to see that John Law had tears running down his face and a strangled cry was coming from his mouth. He held his hand out to me slightly and gestured for me to come nearer. His left side remained still and floppy but he seemed to have some movement in his right side. The peddler’s son stared at his father in amazement. I approached the head of the bed slowly. As I reached John Law I stopped, my hand resting lightly on the bedspread. The peddler reached out slowly, took my hand and squeezed it then gave a slight nod before drifting off to sleep.

  “He forgives me” I whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

  “She’s bewitched him!” yelled the peddler’s son.

  “No I think your father truly did forgive her Abraham.”

  “But she still did it to him in the first place. She admitted it. You heard her.”

  As the peddler’s son spoke he stood taller and moved towards me, his fists clenched in anger.

  “Yes that is true” said Roger with a hint of a sigh “You had better go and get Constable Hargreaves. He is waiting outside.”

  Abraham left the room at speed, banging the door in its frame as he flung it open. John Law flinched a bit in his sleep. I looked around as I came out of my daze. Gabe was leaning towards me but was held back by his Uncle’s hand on his shoulder. The peddler’s son was gone but I hadn’t noticed when he had left. I hadn’t noticed a thing since John Law had fallen asleep. I could still feel his warm, wrinkled hand in mine and I watched as his chest rose and sank peacefully. He had forgiven me. With his forgiveness and the grace of God maybe I would be strong enough to resist my familiar; the one my kin had begun to call The Black Dog. The naming ceremony required that I accept the spirit into my heart and give my soul willingly. Maybe now I could find the strength to resist. Maybe I would be strong enough to run away to Gabe’s arms and home and to fight Mam and Gran for my Nettie too.

  I smiled at Roger but he didn’t smile back. His face seemed to show equal measures of annoyance and sorrow. Gabe smiled but I still felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. As I was about to ask what bothered Mr Nowell Abraham came back into the room. This time he was followed by Constable Hargreaves who was carrying his trusty leather strap and a length of rope.

  “Am I to get a flogging?” I asked nervously. Though I didn’t want to be at the sore end of that strap I knew that I had somehow caused the peddler’s suffering and was resigned to my punishment.
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  “Would that it was that easy Miss Device” said Roger as he nodded to Constable Hargreaves.

  “Hold her hands Abe. Hold em fast, tight.” said the Constable as he advanced on me.

  “No!” Gabe shouted and fought to get to me but Mr Nowell held him back.

  My head whipped from man to man as the Constable and the peddler’s son came towards me while Roger took a few steps backwards. I half crouched, ready to run as soon as there was a gap but before I could move the peddler’s son was holding my hands and Constable Hargreaves had begun wrapping the rope around my wrists. He tied it tight and gave it a hard tug to check the strength of the knots. The tug sent a shot of pain right through my arms from my wrists to my shoulders. The pain made me fall to my knees with a cry but Hargreaves used the remaining length of rope to pull me roughly back to my feet, so hard that for a second I felt as if my arms were going to be ripped from their sockets. Again Gabe shouted and struggled. He was taller and wider than his Uncle and managed to get free but the peddler’s son was larger still. He launched himself at Gabe with his full force and dragged him out of the room.