To Kill A Witch (Holy Warriors Book 1) by Christopher Patterson

Author:Christopher Patterson [Patterson, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780998407043
Publisher: Rabbit Hole Publishing
Published: 2019-09-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

THADDEUS MADE HIS WAY towards William. The King couldn’t even take his eyes off the witch now, so entranced by her. She spoke and giggled, and he laughed along with her, his aunt leaning in on the tall woman all the while, gently patting her hand as she intertwined her arm around the witch’s. Thaddeus dodged dancers and politely bowed and shook his head as several ladies asked him to dance. As he got closer to the king and the witch, it seemed the crowd thickened, and he found himself pushing his way past people. One man even turned and puffed out his chest at Thaddeus.

“Watch yourself,” the man said, glaring at Thaddeus with drunk eyes.

“My extreme apologies,” Thaddeus said with a bow.

The man just grumbled and turned, stumbling about as he attempted to dance.

Thaddeus finally made his way to the small dais on which the king and the witch stood in front of their chairs, now pulled into a small triangle that worked to stop others approach the king. At first, their conversation seemed more small talk than anything else. The witch spoke of Flanders and the drollness of the French court. The king also spoke of the boring nature of the French court and giggled, almost child-like, when the witch touched his arm.

“France is so boring,” the witch said. Her voice was smooth and melodic, and Thaddeus couldn’t help sensing a seductive quality to it, like a woman trying to coax her lover into bed. “Let us talk about something more exciting.”

“What could be more exciting than talking about defeating my brother Robert in battle and reclaiming my French lands?” the king exclaimed. He was ever the student of war. “Even if my aunt doesn’t think I should.”

The witch patted the old woman’s hand.

“I have begun to change my mind, nephew,” Adelaide said in a croaking, shaky voice. “I think I was wrong about your brother Robert.”

“Truly?” the king asked with a smile.

But Thaddeus noticed, as the old woman spoke, the witch’s lips moved as if she was speaking with her. The witch patted Adelaide’s hand again, and the old woman simply stared at William with a fragile smile on her face.

“What is more exciting than France?” the witch said with a soft moan, putting a finger to her lips as if thinking, but kissing her finger.

She giggled a bit and bit her fingernail, childish at first, but then her smile disappeared, her eyelids closed halfway, and she moaned, ever so slightly as she inserted the finger into her mouth and closed her lips over it. The king shifted uneasily.

“How about the Scots?” the witch asked. “This King Malcolm?”

“Bah,” the king said, waving a hand. For a moment, the trance he had been in seemed to break. “A backward king leading a backward people.”

“An exciting people, though,” the witch said. “They run about naked, painting their bodies. When they fight, it is with passion. And all those …”

The witch seemed to shudder with excitement, even crossing her legs momentarily.

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