The Cult of Kishpu
Page 33
Anne didn’t want to stop fighting, but the only lives she wanted to see live life to the fullest was Simon and her beloved children. She sighed as she put her arms up ready for surrender.
* * *
Anne watched unhappily as the wooden prisoner carrier holding her and her family, all who were in handcuffs, was being dragged through the town of Guildford. Seeing the boring, dirty, gloomy buildings instead of the beautiful and clean Surrey Hills was bad enough, but the population of the town cursing and throwing rotten fruit and vegetables at her and her family made everything worst. A carrot even stabbed Henrietta’s left eye.
Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worst, Anne was getting the cold shoulder from her entire family. Even little Henrietta wouldn’t let her attend to her poorly eye. She sighed. “Look, I always wanted to tell you about who I truly am. I really did. But you know these people. They always get the wrong idea and –”
Then the door of the carrier opened and the Dunburys were thrown out. They saw that they were in the large Guildford Square. The whole population were cursing again and throwing more rotten food at them. They would have charged and beaten the family up if the soldiers did not hold them back.
Then trumpets blew.
The Dunburys were helped on their feet and each had a spear at their throat.
“All hail his Majesty, King Charles of England,” announced Captain Tarton.
He moved out of the way to reveal King Charles himself. Everyone bowed before the king, including the Dunburys.
The king surveyed the prisoners and approached Anne. “You are Anne Dunbury, are you not?” he said to her.
Anne nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You stand accused by many of the people of Guildford that you are a witch,” said King Charles.
“On which facts?” Simon demanded. He charged for the king, but was pushed down by the guards. Swords were pointed at his neck.
King Charles smiled and clicked his fingers. Anne saw three guards bringing in three peasants. She quickly recognised them. They were former patients of hers.
King Charles moved to the first one, a royal scruffy scullery maid with blue eyes and ginger hair. “Is this the woman who healed your baby’s fever?” he asked, pointing to Anne.
“Yes, sire,” replied the maid.
“And what could she do that my royal doctor could not have done?”
“No disrespect, sire, but when your doctor tried to repay his debt to me for serving him all the wine he needed during one night, he tried everything on my baby and said there was nothing more he could do with her after he was done. Then one day I went to collect your bread from the baker’s wife over there.”
King Charles looked at where the maid was pointing to. It was the second peasant who was in rags.
“And she told about Anne curing her baby and how she could be the only one to save mine,” the maid continued.
The king moved to the baker’s wife. “Is what she said true?”
“Every single word, sire.”
Anne was very angry. All the good she has done for them and now they made her out to be the most suspicious and dangerous person in the country.
“Also she cured my cows and my horses from an unexplained illness, Your Majesty,” said the third peasant, who was a blond, blue eyed male in farmer’s clothes.
“Is that so?” asked King Charles. Then he faced his public. “What test has she not had yet? Oh, I know. She and her family have not had the challenge to escape death.”
As the crowd cheered and applauded at this horrendous idea, Anne was getting very worried. She knew that if she or any one of her family vanished into thin air again to avoid being burnt, King Charles and his soldiers and people would only prove she is powerful and they would hunt them down for the rest of their lives. The same would happen to them if she sent them to anywhere out of England. They couldn’t win their way out of this risky challenge.
King Charles turned to Tarton. “Captain, ready some stakes, bays of straw and flaming torches.”
“No!” shouted Anne. “I have no powers! And my husband has done nothing, but worked very hard driving your people around –”
“Shut up!” The soldier nearest her kicked her face.
Simon ignored the swords at his necks and tried to help his wife, but that was the last foolish thing he ever did.
Anne and her children were shocked to see Simon with his slit neck lying in a puddle of blood. She felt she was already dead as she lost the only man she had ever truly loved and risked hiding her powers for. The children broke into tears as they were being dragged away along with their heartbroken mother.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Anna and her three oldest children were tied onto some stakes with straw lying beneath her feet. Baby Matthew was in a new wooden cot and was surrounded by straw.
King Charles and a few soldiers, each carrying a flaming torch, approached the prisoners.
“Citizens of Guildford,” the king said to his people. “There are many things we do not know out there. There are many people hiding out secrets in the world out. Many dangers out there. And I intend to rid those things before they do any damage for us.
“Many of you have been healed by this woman. And you even claim she is much better than all of my royal doctors. My consuls have hinted me that she is a witch. And I intend to prove it. If she is a witch, she will not let herself or any of her children be burnt to ash.”
He and his soldiers lit the straw with their torches and soon the flames grew as high as the town’s buildings.
Anne was less worried about herself and more for her children who was coughing as the heavy thick smoke filled their lungs up. She knew that even if she so much as tried to lower the flames down, King Charles and his guards would suspect her as a witch and would only have her beheaded or executed in whatever way suited them. As much as she wanted to help her family, she just couldn’t.
She screamed in horror as baby Matthew’s cot was overtaken in flames and poor defenceless Henrietta joined him, followed by innocent George and loyal Victoria.
Feeling as if she was in hell already, Anne closed her eyes and squirmed as the flames below her caught her feet and began to climb up her body.
* * *
After three hours, the Dunburys was full of nothing but white ash. King Charles picked some up and dropped them. Some flew in the air while some landed back on the ground like normal ash. Impressed that the ash was normal, he turned to his people. “The witch and her magical children are finally dead.”
The crowd cheered and applauded.
King Charles approached Captain Tarton. “Pick up this ash and throw it somewhere far away from here, Major,” he ordered.
The newly-promoted major smiled with delight. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He turned to his soldiers. “All right, you morons, you heard the King! Let’s get rid of this ash!”
* * *
The eight wooden barrels of ash were being dragged on a small wooden wagon back to the River Wey.
“Halt!” Tarton ordered.
The driver stopped the horses from moving. Tarton and his six men got off.
“Take the barrels and dump the ash here,” he ordered.
Two soldiers each picked up a barrel and watched the ash soak into the River Wey.
The ash flowed along the rushing river. Then some of it not only reached the river’s surface but left it. It headed up to the clouds.
* * *
High above the Canadian Rockies were dark heavy clouds and heavy raining. But it wasn’t just raining water; it was raining ash as well. The ash pile landed on the Front Range and then it started to climb. It reached to the height of a human being and soon the ash became bone, blood and organic human flesh.
Anne Dunbury had finally escaped the King Charles I of England and found herself on the other side of the world. But she was still not over the unfair deaths of her own husband and four children who never made it to adulthood. She was
angry that she didn’t have enough power to recruit them from the ashes like herself. The rage inside of her kept on building up as she walked naked through the Rockies.
She hid behind a tree when she saw a family of four lumberjacks, one old father and one old mother with their two grownup sons, cutting down some trees. She never wanted to see a human being as long as she breathed. The English betrayal went too far for her to forgive any human at all. Then she saw they had cut down enough trees to make a cottage and that gave her an idea.
Anne pointed to the next tree the lumberjacks was about to cut down and lowered her finger down. Then she lifted her finger up and the blood-stained tree lifted up. She smiled as she saw the deceased lumberjacks with blood leaking out of their smashed heads.
An hour later using her magic, Anne’s new log cottage was finally built. To reward herself for her hard magical work, she treated herself to a nice meal: four roasted lumberjacks. She roasted them on a roasting spit over the fire that was lit with the lumberjacks’ clothes; she kept the mother’s green woolly jumper and pair of black trousers for herself. As she enjoyed her delicious meal in her new shelter, she started to plan her revenge on mankind for their betrayal after all the good she did for them. After seeing the mother’s name tag on her jumper, she decided to use it as she was no longer Anne Dunbury. That soft, weak healer had ceased to be. Now a completely different person with her powers getting stronger as the centuries went by, she was now Petunia Clockson.