A Witch's Tale (2 page)

“Relax, Alastair, we’ll arrive in time to
make the lists, have no fear,” Gavin called over his shoulder with a dismissive
wave of his hand. “I think this situation merits our interference.”

“Gavin, it isn’t our business to interfere in
such matters.” Alastair spurred his mount forward and caught up to him. “The
wench is being put to the torch for her wickedness! Let it be!” 

“You know I can’t resist a wicked wench in
need, Alastair,” Gavin replied warmly. He grew closer to the platform, seeing
the way her dark, red hair glowed like molten flames in the morning sunshine.
Its glory blinded him for a moment. “Is she not spectacular, my friend?”

“Aye, if you forget for a moment she’s a
bloody witch, for pity’s sake!”

“Saint’s preserve us. She must be a witch for
certain, Alastair. She’s cast her spell upon me,” Gavin vowed softly under his
breath, eyes never leaving the wooden pyre. His emerald eyes traced the ivory
perfection of her features as they picked their way through the crowd. “I can
truthfully say that being cursed by one so fair could hardly be unpleasant.
Damnation would be far more delightful with her there for entertainment.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you when the wench boils
you in oil, plucks out your eyeballs and entrails, or turns you into a bloody
toad for your trouble!” Alastair predicted sharply as he followed him.

Gavin threw his dark head back and chuckled
in obvious delight, eyes crinkling in mirth. “Why is it witches always turn one
into a toad, I wonder?” Gavin asked in a teasing tone. “Why not some well
endowed steed like our Cyrian here?” He gestured to his huge, black Destrier
beneath him with a mocking look. “You must remind me to ask our fair witch
before she does her worst to me.”

“Gavin, need I remind you that we are only
six in number?” Alastair informed him pointedly. “Should this mob turn upon us,
we’re sadly outnumbered. I would question whether your passion for your
flame-haired enchantress is worth our being bloodied to a pulp with their
clubs!”

“Do you see how she winds me around her
finger already, Alastair?” Gavin mused with a wide, gleaming smile. “Pure
sorcery is at play here. I have no doubt of it.”

“A tumble with the witch is hardly worth us
being pummeled to death!” Alastair protested, already knowing nothing he could
say would dissuade Gavin from his present course.

As they neared the scaffold, the villagers
stepped aside to allow them to pass. The people were eyeing them all curiously.
They were not used to seeing so many heavily-armed knights within their humble
midst.

“Look at the girl, Alastair,” Gavin directed,
whistling under his breath. “A mere tumble would never be enough with that
one.”

Gavin was intent to stop the burning of the
witch, if only to enjoy her favors. It was one thing to run interference with
an angry husband. This was unprecedented, he knew. The things he did for
passion. To incite an angry mob just to woo the woman was more than foolhardy.
The villagers stood here all morning to see the witch put to death. They would
not be happy to be denied.

“May I remind you that Lady Blythe awaits you
at court?” Alastair fumed in frustration, determined to talk him out of it. He
saw Gavin reach for his sword hilt and he sighed in resignation. “A pity, but
she will be lonely. I do so like brunettes,” Alastair said wistfully and
reached for his own sword.

“She is yours to pursue, my friend. I go to
court for the tournament, not for her. Try to recall she is married, and to
Lord Strathmore, no less.”

“Have you any plan to rescue our lovely
witch? Or do we just wing the matter as we usually do?” Alastair asked
pleasantly. He signaled to the other men behind him.

“No plan at all. Just follow my lead and be
ready for anything,” Gavin warned as he stopped his horse before the platform.

The knights behind them, four in all, looked
suddenly alert with Alastair’s signal. Their eyes slid over the crowd for signs
of a threat.

Alastair grinned as he swung himself off his
mount. “Let us hope the witch can cast some spell to reverse this damned
stupidity of yours. This is not how I saw my day unfolding, my lord.”

“I am no lord yet, my friend,” Gavin reminded
him and gazed up at the priest with a scowl. The man was now addressing the
crowd, spittle flying from his mouth, eyes blazing.

“I ask you all, good people of this village.
If one among you has just cause to not ask for this witch’s life in penance;
you may speak it now!” the priest thundered as he held his bible aloft.

“I must disagree!” Gavin called out loudly.
He urged his mount forward. “I see no cause to put the girl to death for bread
that fails to rise. How can she also be blamed for a man who also fails too?”
he asked in disgust. Some guffaws of amusement from the crowd ensued at his
sarcastic words. “Would you blame the wench for everything that is wrong in the
world this day, just to satisfy your need for bloodletting?”

“You are a stranger here!” the priest
muttered angrily. “You do not know what wickedness lives in this one’s heart!”

“To the contrary, one can clearly see the
girl’s wickedness.” Gavin’s gaze slid appreciatively over the one they
discussed. His eyes lingered upon the lush form hardly disguised in the ragged,
brown wool gown. He met her infuriated look with a mischievous smile. Her deep
blue eyes met his, glinting in warning. “One look at her and I was lead to both
torment of the mind and body. I fear I have seen it with my own eyes.”

“Then you will agree, Sir Knight?” the priest
demanded stoutly. “The witch needs to be cleansed by fire.”

“I do not agree.” Gavin smiled wider and
shook his head. “The crime would be to put such beauty to the torch; a travesty
with such little proof.”

“There is more than enough proof of her
crimes! She is indeed a witch!” the priest declared piously. The priest’s face
fell in dismay as he noted the five riders dismounted at the bottom of the
stairs. They were standing ready, swords drawn, eyeing the villagers with grim
looks. The leader of the small group of knights seemed determined to stop the
proceeding. The priest showed a sense of keen disappointment.

“Where is your proof? Produce it, if you have
it. I would see such before I allow you to kill an innocent woman!”

“She has cast a dreadful curse upon the
baron’s son! It is no small matter to render a man impotent!” The priest nearly
shouted now.

“I can say I have no wish to see that proof,
Father,” Gavin said in a joking manner. The crowd laughed along in amusement.
“I shall take your word for it, but it appears the baron’s son blames his own
failings upon her without cause.” He stated this with distaste evident in his
gaze. “He would not be the first man to find his mighty snake reduced to a
wriggling worm, nor the last. Am I not right, good women of Valmont?” And he
looked about for agreement from the crowd.

The women all giggled at that, young and old
alike. They eyed him dreamily, blushing and nodding in ascent, noting the
knight’s dark handsomeness. His chain mail and bronze armor caught and held
blindingly in the sun. He dismounted and stood at the bottom of the stairs.

“She has been condemned this day to die by
fire for her crimes,” Father Belsay snarled at the man who dared interrupt.
“You would impede the will of God and our new sovereign in this matter?”

“Aye, I do, and I will. Do you recognize the
pennant we ride under, Father? Take a good look, for it is in the service of
the good King James that I am about this day,” Gavin replied with menacing
intent. He unsheathed and brandished his sword. He heard many gasps as he began
striding up the wooden stairs, two at a time, to reach the top.

He approached where the girl was tied with an
angry frown marring his handsome face. “This is no work of God or king!” he
snarled as he sawed quickly through her bonds with the tip of his sword. He
freed her and glared out over the crowd. “There is nothing but pure spite at
work here! Is there any here among you who would wish to challenge my freeing
the girl? If so, get you a sword and meet mine!”

Mumbles and angry mutterings ensued. None
rushed to stop the freeing of the accused witch. Gavin sheathed his sword. The
girl rubbed her wrists as she removed the ropes, stepping down from the
kindling pile gingerly. She eyed the man with gratitude as she removed the gag.

Gavin could see his men had the situation
well in hand. Alastair and the others held the villagers at bay with swords
drawn at the foot of the stairs. None of the villagers seemed eager to take on
the half dozen warriors. Two finely-dressed men pushed through the crowd. The
elder of the two was frowning as he approached the scaffold.

“Who are you to interfere? This matter does
not concern you, Sir Knight,” Baron de Valmont groused as he eyed the younger
man and frowned.

“I am Gavin de Mortaine, my lord,” he
informed him and smiled with little humor, “and I make it my business.” 

“I am the Baron de Valmont. This village is
under my protection,” the older man said as he glared up at the knight. “What
cause do you have to interfere here?”

“Do you intend to stop me, Baron?” Gavin
asked quietly, his eyes narrowed.

The older man assessed the situation grimly.
He took in the six armed and ready knights and sighed. Gavin knew by his
expression he hadn’t the men able to raise arms against them.

“You will cease and desist in this matter, my
lord. I have the ear of the king. He will hear of your petty justice.” Gavin
scowled at the crowd and back at the older man. “Have you nothing better to do
than burn innocent women for the mob’s entertainment?”

The baron flushed in anger to hear titters of
amusement behind him. He was flustered as he stood at the front of the crowd,
his fuming son at his side. The man’s florid countenance grew as did the
mockery at his back.

“This girl has cast a vile curse upon my son!
This is none of your affair, Sir de Mortaine! It is fitting she be burnt for
her evil sins,” the man argued, bristling from the contempt he saw in the
younger man’s eyes at his words.

“I see no evil here,” Gavin pointed out with
a scowl. “You cannot blame his present condition upon her. You strike me as a
man of reason, my lord. Do you really think her responsible for the weather?
For your son’s cock suddenly going soft? You would agree it is ridiculous to
lay the blame upon her?”

The older man reflected Gavin’s words
thoughtfully. He eyed his son with a conceding look. The baron knew his
servants couldn’t stand against six battle-trained knights. He smiled weakly,
trying yet another approach.

“Surely you don’t wish to get involved in
such petty provincial matters as these, de Mortaine?” the Baron de Valmont
argued diplomatically. “The girl was found guilty of witchery by the church.
Her injury to my son is but one of many of her crimes.”

Gavin gazed down at the girl. “Let us see
what the girl says to her own defense, my lord.”

“We should listen to the lies of a witch?” de
Valmont asked harshly, a lace handkerchief going to his nostrils from the foul
odor of the crowd. “She is not likely to admit what she has done.”

“You bring these charges against her, Baron.
Let the girl answer her accusers,” Gavin interjected and smiled down at the
girl. “I believe the floor is yours, Mistress Farrand.”

****  

Madeline swallowed hard as she gazed out over
the crowd. She looked up at her savior discreetly. She was obviously stunned by
his interceding on her behalf. But to the matter at hand; her life was at
stake. She spoke very quickly now.

“They all lie! I did nothing but fend off
this lout’s attentions that day in the woods!” she cried in outrage and pointed
at Hugh. “He attempted to force himself on me! When he couldn’t finish his evil
deed, he fled and told lies!”

“The foul bitch lies, I say!” Hugh raged as
he stormed forward, glaring up at her. “She is a demon who lured me there to
seduce me!”

 “I think even a demon has better taste
than the likes of you!” the girl snarled back. Many in the crowd laughed at
that, making Hugh redden with embarrassment.

Gavin’s lips twitched in amusement at her
words. He raised an eyebrow at Hugh. “What say you? What business had you in
the woods that day, Hugh?”

Hugh sputtered and looked at his father for
guidance. The elder avoided his gaze. The young man looked up at the knight and
drew himself up in a blustering manner

“I was hunting in the fields, and on my way
home. Mistress Farrand was there and cast her evil spell upon me.”

“Wouldn’t the main road have been the easier
course to travel?” Gavin suggested with a knowing smile, seeing Hugh flush
uncomfortably and look away. “Do explain why you would go into the woods, if on
your way home?”

“I don’t need to explain why I took the long
way about,” Hugh sputtered and looked uncomfortable. “I wished a ride, nothing
more.”

“Ah, but you should explain. You bring
serious allegations against Mistress Farrand, with no other witness about,”
Gavin replied and his smile thinned. “Were I to ask how many here shared the
girl’s same experience with you in the woods; what would they say?”