Clarissa cackled as she watched me slurp at the meagre food. "You'll want some water," she sneered. My throat burned, I tried to lap at the pitcher of water. Clarissa kicked me in the back, and I knocked over the pitcher, spilling the water over the dirt floor.
Clarissa howled with laughter as I bent my head under the lip of the pitcher, trying to catch what I can. "Oh," she cried. "This is too delicious."
Tears streamed down my face. I tried to sit up, but she pressed her boot into the back of my head, forcing my face down into the damp earth. "Why are you doing this?" I cried, spluttering as I swallowed a clump of dirt. "Did Ulrich send you to torture me?"
"Ulrich?" she screeched his name. "Don't you speak of him, harpy. I've worked long and hard to win his heart, but one glance at you and he's forgotten me completely. He hasn't been the same since you entered the dungeon, and he just sits up there all day and night, staring at the rack with a haunted look on his face. He doesn't take water or wine. He doesn't eat. I strut around him naked, and he can't even bear to look at me. All he does is pace around his dungeon and mutter your name."
"He … he does?"
But if Clarissa heard the surprise in my voice, she didn't acknowledge it. "Oh, you're not the first to fall for him. The things he does in that dungeon … it’s hard to go back to an ordinary man after knowing that kind of pleasure. There was a tart in the Rhine valley, and a horsey-looking girl in Rothenberg, but he cared not one whit for any of them. It's me who puts her life on the line every time, so that he can make good his little oath and play the hero. It's me who cleans his executioner’s cloak and sharpens his sword. It's me whose arms he falls into at night when he can no longer bear the weight of his sins. And I'll not have some witch come in casting enchantments on him and making him forget it!"
"I didn't cast anything–"
"Don't lie. I am a gypsy, and I come from a long line of spell casters and fortune tellers. I know an enchantment when I see one. Ulrich would never act this way, unless he truly did love you. Which he doesn't, because he loves me. Do you understand? He loves me!"
I screamed as she stomped down hard on my neck. Red welts appeared in front of my eyes, and my head spun.
Clarissa continued, pressing her foot down harder. "If he wills it, I will save you, as I have done so many before. But don't think for a second that you'll be free to sink your claws into him as soon as you're let down off that stake. If you do anything to steal Ulrich away from me, I'll stab your heart out, roast it over a fire, and eat it. Do you understand?"
She rammed my head against the dirt with her boot, rubbing her heel into my cheek. I sobbed as my head exploded with pain.
"I said, do you understand?"
"I do!" I sobbed. With one final kick, Clarissa withdrew her leg, and I heard her footsteps ascending the stairs. I lay with my cheek against the ground, my head pounding and my hands still shackled to the door.
Of course, Clarissa was in love with Ulrich. That was why she had done this, she saw me as a threat. If what she said was true, then he was still thinking of me, as I still thought of him. He still planned to save me. He still planned to set me free.
Ulrich hadn't forsaken me, even though he believed I had enchanted him. For the first time in two days, my heart swelled with hope.
Ulrich
“Is that wall particularly interesting?” Tjard asked, his voice light.
I grunted in reply. I didn’t need him to remind me that I was cracking up. I had been staring at the same spot on the dungeon wall for three straight days. It had ceased to have any meaning. Every stone had morphed in my mind into a vision of Ada’s face, some of them meeting my eyes with intense longing, others morphing into cruel, twisted crones.
Despite these visions, I hadn’t set eyes upon Ada again. I couldn’t bear the thought of bringing her back to the dungeon, not knowing what I might do to her in my rage, so I had commanded Clarissa and Tjard to bring her food and water. Instead, I had sat and stared at the wall and tried to make some sense of my thoughts.
My mind was clouded with conflicting thoughts and emotions. As a sceptical man, I’d never paid much heed to the church dogma and folk stories about witches. Men like my father used those stories for their own cruel ends. I would be different. I would be rational, even if that meant I was secretly guilty of heresy.
But I’d just discovered that I was wrong. Witches were real, demons did exist, and I was now ensnared by a powerful magic of the heart. I was madly in love with Ada, and yet I hated her, too. My thoughts went round and round in circles, throbbing against my temples.
“Ulrich?” Tjard asked. He sounded worried.
“Go away,” I growled.
“I … I will, but I wanted to bring you this.” A folded parchment landed on my lap. “It just arrived in the village, addressed to you. It’s from Lord Benedict.”
I heard the door creak shut, and I was alone once more. Eager for something to occupy my mind and distract me from thoughts of Ada, I broke the seal and unfolded the letter. A few lines were written in elaborate, cursive script.
Ulrich of Donau-Ries
It appears that the incident you’re investigating is not an isolated case. Signs of witchcraft are cropping up from one end of the valley to the other. I can’t have this unholy scourge infecting my lands. I have consulted Bishop Keppler, and we have decided on a course of action - a large-scale, co-ordinated Witch Hunt. I’m recalling you to Rotstrom castle to perform your duties at the court here. With several witch hunters working together, we will soon eradicate the foul demon from our lands. I’ve already ordered a block of trees to be felled for the pyres. Your father will be joining us from Rothenberg, and will be leading the hunt.
I look forward to your attendance within the week.
Lord Benedict
I felt numb, stunned into feeling nothing. My father. I hadn’t seen nor heard from him for five years, ever since I had left his service and began to travel the country on my own. To face his drawn face and cruel eyes once more ...
The numbness started to fade, replaced by a cold, clammy fear that clung to my skin like a wet cloak. The letter fell from my hand, sliding across the floor and coming to a stop beneath the rack. I didn’t move to pick it up. I was frozen by my fear.
How can I face him? How can I work beneath him, knowing what he will force me to do? I’ve come so close to atoning for the sins he forced on me, and now, he will heap a hundredfold sins upon my soul.
I buried my face in my hands. What would I do? As if Ada’s presence wasn’t enough of a torment.
I needed to clear my head. I needed to be rid of the spell Ada cast on me, so that I could think clearly and come up with a plan. I had already asked Clarissa about the spell, but she had shook her head. “I told you, I don’t have any kind of power like that,” she said. “You would need a powerful witch to undo a spell like that. In my lands, if a woman had done this to you against your will, you would kill her, cut off her head, and burn it so that she could never come back to haunt you.”
“I’m not going to kill her,” I growled, my stomach tying in knots at the thought of it. “Not until I have my own mind back, at least.”
I needed a witch, and I couldn’t go to Ada. It wasn’t safe for me. But luckily, I knew where two witches lived.
Elder Ernust happily gave me directions to Ada’s aunts’ cabin. He seemed to think I’d be bringing both of them back in chains to be tried along with their niece. I didn’t bother to correct him. I saddled up Willow and rode out into the woods. The trees, now dotted with snow, raced by in a blur.
Finally, just as I was starting to think I’d gone too far, I spotted a fire puffing above the line of trees in the distance. I rode in that direction, and within minutes I had found the clearing. The cottage was larger than I expected, at least three rooms had been added at various stages, giving it the appearance of many houses stacked on top of each other. Bright-coloured curtains hung in the windows, and a blackened horseshoe adorned the do
or. It appeared homely, inviting. I wondered if that was an enchantment, too.
I banged on the door of the cottage. “Open up!” I yelled. “Or I will burn this cottage to the ground, you abominable demons!”
The door opened a crack. A woman’s face poked out, her features drawn back into a vicious scowl. “Who are you to come out here threatening destruction?”
“I am Ulrich of Donau-Ries. I’d be very careful what you say to me, witch.”
“Oh, you think I’m a witch?” she sneered. “You’re the one coming out into the forest crying about fires and demons.”
“Oh, Bernadine, let him in!” A voice came from further in the house.
“You stay out of this!” Bernadine yelled behind her.
Another woman opened the door, her face was round and kind. “You have our Ada in your dungeon, Scharfrichter. What makes you think we want to help you with anything?”
“What makes you think I want your help?” I narrowed my eyes, covering my shock with bravado. “I could be here to arrest you and throw you in with your niece.”
“I’m a witch, Ulrich.” the woman smiled sweetly. “I can see things others cannot see.”
Bernadine slapped her forehead. “Wonderful. That’s right, Aubrey, you just admit that to a witch hunter. It’s as if you want to join Ada in that jail cell.”
“He’s not here to imprison us,” Aubrey said. “He needs our help.”
I nodded. “I need to you reverse Ada’s spell.”
The short woman snorted. “Now I know he’s baiting us. Ada is a useless witch. She couldn’t cast a spell if her life depended on it.”
“She cast a spell on me,” I said. “She made me fall in love with her. I can’t think straight for want of her. Now I need you to reverse it. It’s the only way I can ensure she receives a fair trial.”
“And why would we help you? You’re nothing but the worst of murderers, a slayer of women.”
Aubrey shook her head. “He’s not. He’s never killed a woman in his life. He did cut one’s hand off, once, though, but he was young and foolish, and it grew back, so there was no harm done.”
I stared at her, this time unable to hide my shock. “How … how did you know all that?”
Aubrey merely nodded in reply. I stared into her piercing green eyes, so much like Ada’s, and knew I could trust her. “What do you plan to do for our Ada?”
“I will set her free, as I have all the others. I will take you all to a safe place, where you can live out your lives free from persecution. And then I will escape into the woods, and you’ll never see me again. But if I don’t get rid of this enchantment …” I sucked in a breath, feeling the tightness across my chest constrict once more. “You don’t understand, it’s driving me insane. Soon I will not know my own mind, and I may well kill her out of my own spite. So will you help me?”
In reply, Aubrey merely shook her head. She looked sad. “Although nothing would please us more than to Ada free, we can’t help you. If Ada has cast a spell, which as Bernadine put it so eloquently is unlikely, then she, and only she, must be the one to reverse it. But beware, Ulrich, your heart is so black with fear and hatred that your feelings for Ada may be the only thing keeping you from breaking your vow. It has been so long since you dared to love someone that your heart is poisoning that love, twisting it into something evil. I see no hope for Ada if she breaks the spell, only death awaits her at your hands. I only hope you haven’t broken her body or her mind so badly that she can do this for you, for it will be her last act of kindness before you burn her.”
And, with that, Aubrey slammed the door in my face, the crash echoing through the silent forest.
I leaned against the wooden frame, and slumped to the ground. The witch had known all of my deepest secrets, and everything she had said was true. Ada had me all twisted around, and I could feel all the rage and hatred bubbling up inside me - rage at my mother, for betraying my love, rage at my sister, for leaving me, and rage at my father, for turning me into this hate-filled man. I buried my face in my hands. If I didn’t get rid of this enchantment, and soon, there was no telling what I would do.
If I wanted to be rid of Ada’s spell, and have my own mind back, then I had to confront her.
Ada
Three more days passed in agony, and no solace came. Every morning and evening, Tjard delivered another bowl of gruel and pitcher of water. At least Clarissa didn’t return to torment me further.
After Tjard had left on the third evening of my imprisonment, I grabbed the bowl and stuffed the gruel into my mouth, mopping up the juices with the stale bread roll. But I sipped the water gingerly, knowing that it would have to last me the night. My stomach clenched from malnutrition, and the curves that Ulrich claimed to love were quickly fading. I leaned against the wall, my head spinning as pain welled behind my eyes. Cramp raced up my legs. A few more days of this and they wouldn't have to burn me at all.
I jumped in fright as the dungeon door slammed open, dropping the empty bowl on the ground. I heard someone shouting on the stairs. The villagers must be back to taunt me some more. I squeezed my eyes shut, and turned my back to the door, covering my head with my hands to protect my face from the villagers' missiles.
"Ada," a stern voice said.
It was Ulrich.
I spun around, pain pounding against my temples. He stood in the narrow corridor that ran in front of the cells, the shaft of moonlight highlighting his stern features. His face appeared drawn, his eyes sunken, as if he hadn't slept in several days. That makes two of us. My heart pounded against my chest at the sight of him. Why, after how he had treated me, did he still have this effect on me? I stared at him blankly, wondering what he was going to say.
Ulrich glared at me in silence for several moments, his eyes hard. I felt certain he must've been able to hear the thundering of my racing heart as I waited for his judgement.
He sighed. "Many women come to my dungeon, and I have had my fun with them, before setting them free upon the world. This I have told you. What I didn’t tell you is that once I have got them to safety, I forget them completely. They are easy enough to forget. I need to forget them, because I can’t care about someone, the way they deserve to be cared for. That is not within me, not after what happened-” Ulrich snapped his mouth shut before he could finish. Pain flashed in his eyes, I could sense that he was deeply troubled about something, but I was too afraid to ask him what it was.
Ulrich took a deep breath, and continued. “These last few days, I have tried to put you out of my head. I've prayed for relief. I've cleansed my body with holy water. But when I close my eyes, all I see is your face. The thought of you suffering down here makes my chest ache, and if you were to burn …" his voice trailed off, and I noticed his face appeared worn, stricken. "You must be in league with a powerful demon indeed to cast such a spell on me, Ada."
I didn’t reply, my lips frozen. I couldn’t read him, couldn’t figure out if he hated me, or if he wanted me, the way my chest ached for him.
"I know you have done this to me, but you were foolish, for I am your only means for escaping this dungeon and your fiery fate. If you break the spell, Ada, I will ensure your freedom. But if you do not …" his voice trailed off.
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t trust myself to speak.
"Break the spell, witch." Ulrich hissed, his eyes flashing with hatred.
I looked away from him, staring at the grey stone wall. "I cannot." I said.
"Break it, or I will cause you pain like none you've ever known."
I shook my head, watching him from the corner of my eye.
"I don't like being toyed with." Ulrich folded his arms across his broad chest. "I am the one who does the toying."
"I didn't play with you." I sobbed. "You don't understand – my magic cannot have any influence over you. It doesn’t work like that."
"And how does it work?"
"A witch doesn't manipulate people. She doesn't force them down a path
they would not already take. The spell I cast was simply asking the universe to help me to find a man who desired me, because of the curse–"
"What curse?"
I hesitated. I was not supposed to speak of it. But what harm could it do? It wasn’t as if Ulrich was going to show me any mercy. "The women in my family have been under a powerful curse ever since my ancestor spurned the advances of a powerful warlock. Every seven days, a woman of my family must …" I felt my cheeks burning, "… have relations with a man, or else we all lose our powers."
"That sounds …" Ulrich gave a little smile. "… fun."
"Not when you are an undesirable wretch like me. Even my aunts had men who they could call on to help them weather the curse. But not me - no man ever wanted me. They always fancy my friend Rebekah. I am not comely or beguiling or anything a man looks for. That is why I was in the grove. I was asking the Goddess to help me find a man, before we lost our powers forever."
Ulrich stepped closer, his chin jutting through the bars. His eyes bore into mine. The pain I’d seen there earlier was gone, replaced by a wild, dangerous look. "And your goddess brought me."
"You came of your own accord. She just helped you find your way." I took a step toward the bars, reaching out with one finger to stroke Ulrich’s finger. When my skin touched his, a jolt of energy ran through my body, as though lightning passed between us when we touched.
I went to pull back, but Ulrich gripped my finger, pulling at my skin.
"I'd better hear the rest of it," Ulrich sighed. "If you are a witch, what powers do you have? If I cut your hand off, will it grow back?"
What? What a strange question. I hope he’s not thinking of cutting my hand off? I looked up in panic, but Ulrich wasn’t fingering a knife. Instead, he was staring into my face, his brown eyes wide. He looked worried. Then, I remembered the story about the witch and his father.
Witch Hunter: dark medieval paranormal romance (Witches of the Woods Book 1) Page 15