Hilda - The Challenge

by Paul Kater

  The gathering made space for them to mount their brooms, and they took off, leaving the village behind.

  Once they were airborne and without a doubt out of hearing range, Hilda almost jumped William: "Suck an elf, William, how did you do that? How did you know that?"

  "Do you believe me when I say I don't really know?"

  "Hmmf. In your case I'll have to," she said, not happy with the reply. "That was one magnificent action, William. If you had done that in full control of magic, I would have been terribly proud of you."

  "Oh, thank you very much," he grinned.

  "Oh, shush you, I'm now just averagely proud of you, live with it." Her shrieking laughter sounded almost nice in his ears.

  William then asked Hilda what she had mean with the 'I smell a rat' phrase. "It does not make any sense to me."

  "Oh, that. Just petty stuff really. By the evening these two men will be smelling bad. And I mean really bad. Nothing like a small token of my not appreciation for what they tried to do. It is highly insulting if an ordinary tries to damage or take away the property of magical people, William, and don't forget that."

  "Uhm, I think that there somehow is that awareness inside me. Not sure where it comes from, but when I noticed what they had in mind, I reacted before I could think. As if the wand was directing me."

  "That, my sweet man, is impossible. A good wand will amplify you, but not direct you. The wand you have was Gerdundula's, and she would not let a wand direct her. What happened came from you, take my word for that."

  "Hilda. I believe you. I have not doubted you so far, and there is no reason for me to begin now." William looked at Hilda and seriously wondered about something.

  "What is it, William?" Hilda startled William slightly. She had sensed his unease through the link and reacted to it.

  "The feeling that came over me. The thing I reacted to back in the village. Is that something brought about by magic?"

  Hilda thought about the question. She had never wondered about things like that one, it had always been a part of her. "Maybe it is coming to your surface because of magic. I'm not really sure."

  As they were going over possibilities and improbabilities that way, they were approaching the new slope where the shepherds were herding their flock of sheep.

  Hilda brought the brooms to a halt. "I have to tell you my plan for them for the day. They always expect me, us now, to launch some kind of attack. They're always waiting for it, even if they soil their pants about each one. I have a different tactic for today, shake them up in a different way..."

  She shared her plan with William, who couldn't help but love it. "That is so wicked, Hilda."

  "Isn't it?" Her face radiated her being thrilled with the plan. "Give it your best, sweet man, I'll love you extra for it."

  William pulled the hood over his head, with his hand this time. Then they slowly flew over the last hill-top that separated them from the sheep and their managers.

  The sheep were all gathered near the bottom of the shallow valley. The shepherds and their dogs were having a moment to relax and drink something as they saw the two shapes slowly approach. As they did not anticipate anything happening fast, they were not in a rush to get on their feet. In fact, they knew that whatever they'd do, it would probably have minimal impact on the actions of the witch and her uncanny wizard companion.

  Hilda and William slowly and silently circled the herd. They were rather high up and moved so slowly that hardly any of the animals reacted to their presence, and the ones that did just looked up and let out an annoyed baahhhh.

  They came close to the group of people who were sitting near a small fire over which the kettle with tea hung from a rugged chain supported by an iron tripod. The men and women looked at the mysterious couple in silence. Some of the dogs jumped up and barked at the strange flying apparitions. One of them even walked along with them, looking up as if it was expecting something.

  The shepherds talked among themselves. This was not the way the witch acted. Would there be something wrong? Or perhaps it was an effect of the wizard that was with her?

  As the group was indulging in their guessing and discussing, William and Hilda completed their round along the herd of sheep. In silence they hung in the air, exactly opposite the camp of the shepherds that tried to be very inconspicuous about keeping an eye on them.

  Hilda turned to William. "Let's go make pretty colours, my sweet man."

  William grinned and felt mischief bubbling up inside him, something he had not felt for ages. He let his mind slide into a mood, envisioned something happen.

  Hilda watched William's face and was delighted to see his grin slowly change into a wicked smile. "Oh, yes, that is the attitude," she whispered. Coloured smoke appeared behind their brooms, and she made them move over the herd of sheep.

  In a slow slalom they passed over the sheep, William creating the coloured smoke and Hilda directing their course. The shepherds were now conspicuously watching the two, eyeing the smoke that spread out over the herd and not knowing what to make of that. Their surprise would come later.

  After flying over the herd just once, the two brooms pulled up, the smoke stopped coming from the ends, and then the witch and the wizard left the valley.

  The shepherds walked into the herd. To their shock they found that the smoke had not only been smoke. They had many sheep now with purple and yellow wool.

  Hilda shrieked with laughter as they sped over the trees on the way back to the house. "Are you sure that the colour will go away again in a few days?"

  "Hey, I'm still in training, I'm sure of nothing," William grinned. "I did have the intent for that. Maybe we can go back in a few days and have a look."

  "Bad plan, William," the witch said. "It would make us look curious. It's better to have a look through the mirror and see if it worked."

  "Oh, right, the mirr-aaaahh!!!" William had not intended to end his words like that, but his broom swept sharply to the side, shocking him. In a reflex he grabbed the broomstick with both hands and stabilised its flight path by pouring thoughts and directions into it. "Goddammit! What was that?!", he swore as he brought his broom back, next to Hilda's.

  "That, sweet man, was your beloved little witch. And I have to hand it to you that you picked up this little witch-inflicted mishap quite nicely." Hilda grinned and blew him a kiss.

  The man in the black cloak needed a few moments to get the deeper meaning of her words. "You threw my broom off course?"

  "Uhuh!", Hilda nodded, happily smiling. "Was that cool or what?"

  "I almost fell down. That's a new approach to cool," William frowned.

  "But you're still flying, sweet man. Do you think I would have let you fall?"

  "No, you wouldn't. I am sure of that." William nodded.

  "Well, that's good. Come, we're going down." Hilda pulled her broom in a shallow descent, flying ahead of William and landing nice and gentle on the grass in front of the house.

  William landed right behind her. "Thank you, sweetheart."

  "Thank me? For what?"

  "For making the landing a nice one."

  Hilda grinned. And grinned harder, until she stood laughing, her broom bobbing next to her.

  "Did I say something funny? Or do I have cream on my nose?" William wondered what her source of entertainment was.

  Hilda caught her breath again. Still snickering she walked over to the man and hugged him. "You really didn't notice, did you? Since I shook your broom, you were in control of your flight. You also landed the broom yourself."

  "You-... I-... What?" William had put his arms around Hilda and stared into her grinning face.

  "Yes, you I what. Exactly. And you did that so well! Come, we'll fly again and this time you will fly by yourself. You can do it, William." Hilda had her hands on his shoulders, gently shaking him. "I had to shake your magic awake, William. And I will do that again, until you accept it fully as yours."

  The witch sensed his uncertainty.

/>   "Magic awake? But how? I mean, I don't feel any different, Hilda."

  "You shouldn't feel different. That is the magic of it." Hilda frowned a moment, as she considered her choice of words. Then, with a wicked grin, she picked up his broom and pushed it in his hands. "Here. If you can get it up, you get to make love to me tonight." She giggled as she quickly jumped to her broom, hopped on it and scooted up into the air, way out of his reach.

  William considered the object in his hands. One side of his mind was telling him that this was idiocy, that he would not ride a broom ever by himself. The other side though, the one that had experienced the thrill of the flight and longed for more, yelled at him not to listen to the unbeliever in his head, to get on the broom and fly, fly, fly! The unbeliever lost. William got onto the broom, grabbed the stick with one hand and felt the thrill of the lift-off inside him. The broom responded by making the feeling a reality, and he was in the air. Not as gracefully as Hilda managed, but he was in the air. He was sitting on the air-cushion. And he directed his broom to the witch overhead who was watching him come towards her.

  Hilda knew that a gate had opened inside William. He was accepting his magic now. The way he got on the broom, the feeling she sensed inside him, and the relative ease that brought him in the air made her feel good. She waited until he was next to her, as she had a smile waiting for him, and a kiss.

  "You are becoming a wizard, William," she said, after delivering the goods. "Come. We fly." She headed out, in front of him, leading the way.

  Mere seconds later William followed her, not afraid, in control of the broom and the motion, only subconsciously aware of the small currents in the air around them and reacting to them. There was just the flight, the witch that he loved, the air and the wonderful new world below them.

  31. Home improvement

  In the days that followed, William's flying skills improved rapidly. He was also becoming more proficient in the use of magic in other areas, but still Hilda sometimes despaired at the erratic way his progress continued.

  One night, as they had gone to bed, Hilda leaned her elbows on William's chest and looked at his face. His features looked very serene in the candle light, she thought. "I've been thinking," she shared with him.

  "Oh god," he responded.

  She slapped him. "Hey!" She kissed the spot on his cheek where she had hit him. "Maybe it would be the best thing to try and run off when the challenge is about to happen."

  "And you think that will help?" William folded his arms around Hilda and gently pulled her down so her head rested on his chest.

  "No. It won't. But it might buy us some time figuring out what to do about it."

  "We still have over two and a half months to come up with something," William said as he stroked her hair.

  "Moons, William, moons. When will you learn to speak properly- no, don't stop that, at least your hands know what to do. They have understood the magic."

  He smiled as he heard Hilda purr like a kitten under his touch.

  "You know, William, sometimes you scare me. Just a little bit of course," she said.

  William grinned. "Of course." He did not want to hurt her ego nor her feelings.

  "The things you do and say... some of them are very sensible. But some things, important things, it is as if you really can't understand them. The simple magic that you have so many problems with. The challenge and Lamador. They are not games, William. These are serious things." Again she basked in the gentle and simple attention of his hands, his presence and his warm body.

  "I understand that, Hilda. I do, really. But unlike you, I am still new to this world, this life and everything that goes around. Three weeks ago I was selling books, driving around in a truck from town to town. Now I am living with a real live witch who is a wonderful person to me-"

  "Am not. I just keep you because you know how to please me," she interrupted him.

  "-and I am flying around on a broom while all kinds of new stuff is coming to me. The magic, I mean, Baba Yaga, king Walt, and yes, the challenge and Lamador." As he spoke that name, he felt how she twitched, if only slightly. "And I remember seeing him in Gerdundula's garden. Believe me, he scared me also."

  "Oh. Good," the witch muttered against his skin.

  "But I also remember Babs telling you, and me, that there should be a reason that I came here when you asked for help."

  "Not that again, William. Please. She just said that because she felt she had to say something."

  "I will believe that when you do, you witch."

  Hilda leaned up on her arms again. She stared at him with her jet-black eyes. After careful consideration, she said: "I hate you." Then she lay down again. "Now continue pleasing the witch."

  "Yes, my lady," he smiled and resumed his handiwork. It was not long after that he sensed Hilda was asleep. He rested his hands on her back, used magic to slip the covers over them and slowly he nodded off himself.

  "William?"

  It was more the soft warmth against his ear that woke him than hearing his name. "Yes?" His voice sounded broken and crackled from the sleepy state he arose from.

  "I don't hate you."

  A soft kiss on his cheek proved that statement.

  "I'll make breakfast."

  The comforting warm weight of the witch shifted away, then came back for a moment, followed by a kiss on his other cheek. After that Hilda left the bed for real. William wondered a bit about her behaviour, as he so often had done before. And this time too, he told himself to stop that. She was very much her own person: unpredictable, wild at heart and, once you got to know her, amazingly tender at soul.

  The wizard under construction slipped out of the bed and made his wand appear. He thought of a housecoat, dark blue and velvet. It appeared and he smiled. The wand gone again, he put on the housecoat and slowly walked down the stairs.

  "What did you do?", Hilda asked from the kitchen.

  William grinned. He knew that she would know. That link she had with him was amazing. "I made a housecoat to wear before coming down."

  "You did? What colour?!" Hilda came from the kitchen to look at his creation. "Oh!! Pretty!" Then she darted back into the kitchen. "Go sit down, this won't take long."

  'A truer word...', William thought as he was passed by a few plates flying to the table. "Hey, kitchen witch, you are overdoing things!"

  A chiming laughter from the kitchen was his reward. "I'll be right there with the tea."

  William sat down and grinned. She had food done in the blink of an eye and tea was the hard part of breakfast.

  Hilda came to the table, the teapot floating in front of her. "Hot hot, be careful," she warned him. Skillfully she filled the cups and made the pot land on a thick clay coaster.

  Over breakfast, Hilda asked William if he had a problem with staying at home for a change. "I don't want people to think that I am in any way relying on you or so. They have to know that I am a solitary witch who handles her own stuff."

  "Even when you are now living together with me." He winked.

  "Well, you are not a witch, so in that respect I am still a solitary witch," Hilda said, making a point.

  "I'll be fine here, sweetwitch," William nodded. "Just you go out and do the things you are good at. I have books here, and the house to talk to."

  "If the house wants to be talked to," a low voice remarked.

  "Of course, that is a requirement," William grinned.

  Twok.

  Something that was not a sound but more a sensation of discomfort or hindrance seemed to flash through the room momentarily.

  "What was that?", William wondered.

  "The mail," commented the house.

  "I know that, but the feeling right after that?"

  There was no reply, so William shook his head and pushed the issue to the side.

  Hilda was ready to go. "Behave, okay?", she cautioned William, a blue twinkle in her eyes.

  He put his arms around her and patted her behind. "I will. D
on't worry. And you'll know when something is wrong."

  "Yes, this is true," she nodded. "A very reassuring thought." After a last kiss she left the house.

  William saw her speed off into the air, looking through the window. A thought surfaced again, one that had been in his mind for a while already. He went up into the bedroom of the witch and sat down on the bed. The wand appeared in his hand.

  "Okay, house, I think we need to talk. House to man."

  "Do we?", the house asked curiously.

  "Are we having fun?"

  The voice of the witch came from somewhere above him. William opened an eye, encountering darkness still. He lifted the book from his face and saw Hilda hovering over him, looking down. "Ayup, lots of fun, and with you there it's even better," he said.

  "All right. I am convinced you feel the need to explain the change. And what's that thing you are sitting on? Or lying?" The witch landed her broom and curiously eyed the sunchair William occupied.

  He got up from it and explained what the thing was. And also that it had taken him over a dozen tries to get it right as he had never taken a serious interest in the making of sunchairs. "But I think I have the trick down now."

  "That's good," said Hilda who sat down in the chair, "if you make another one you can sit also. And while you are at it, you can tell me what that pole is near the door."

  William already had his wand ready to make a new sunchair. "That is for the house."

  "Oh. For the house." Hilda looked at William as if she assumed him to have gone slightly bonkers.

  "Indeed. We had a good talk, and it told me that it is getting fed up with the arrows being shot into it. So I thought it would be a good idea to put up the pole, so the mail-archers can shoot their arrows in there."

  Hilda stretched herself in the chair. "This chair is a really shiny idea, sweet man, but I am not altogether overwhelmed with the pole. It's in the way for a fantastic broom approach, for one. And are you going out to it when the weather sucks?"