Witch Finder by Witch Finder (epub)

Author:Witch Finder (epub)
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hachette
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Luke woke very early and for a minute he had no idea where he was. He lay in the darkness, listening to the strange sounds – the soft insistent hoot of an owl, the wind in the trees. And the sound of breathing in the bed across the other side of the room – not William, but a stranger.

Then he remembered.

He was at Southing. The man in the bed opposite was another groom and, thank God, an ordinary man like himself. He was not sure he could have borne to sleep in the same room as a witch. And he had just nine days left to complete his task.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Then, with a glance to make sure the man in the bed opposite was sound asleep, he pulled down the neck of his shirt and twisted to look at the scar on his shoulder. It was all but healed and beneath the angry red swelling you could just see the faint shape of a hammer.

He shrugged his shirt back on and then swung his legs out of bed, feeling his head spin with tiredness. The other man had a watch hanging from his bedpost and Luke padded across and looked at it, yawning. Half past five, read the dial. Good.

He ran down the back stairs in his stockinged feet, pulling his boots on at the last moment. The door to the gardens was bolted, but when he pulled back the latch he was relieved to find it was not locked. The country air hit him as he walked out into the pre-dawn gloaming. It smelt so different from London – cold and clear as spring water, the soft aromatic scent of wood smoke in place of the sharpness of coal, the dampness of grass instead of the smell of wet cobbles.

The stable smelt reassuringly the same – of hay and manure and warm horse. The horses were still asleep, and Cherry chuntered crossly and tossed her head as he pulled on the bridle.

‘Hey,’ he whispered. ‘None of your sauce, miss.’ There was a sugar lump in his pocket and he held it out, her soft, whiskery lips gentle on his palm as she took it. She crunched it delicately like a lady as he saddled her up, but he led, rather than rode her out of the yard, choosing the quietest parts of the cobbles, so that the sound of her hooves was muffled by grass and drifts of straw. The maids would be getting up soon and he did not want the household to know what he was about.

Out of the yard he put his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself up. Cherry gave a little whicker of delight, her bad mood forgotten, and Luke patted her neck.

‘You’re a sweetheart, you are, aren’t you.’

She tossed her head, her skin warm and silky beneath his hand and together they quickened their pace to a trot. The dawn light was turning the sky to pink as he turned out of the gate towards the pale glimmer of the rising winter sun.

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