Witch by Finbar Hawkins

Author:Finbar Hawkins [Hawkins, Finbar]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781838935634
Google: NQa9DwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Head of Zeus
Published: 2020-09-30T23:00:00+00:00

‘May I take Henry?’

Anne reached for the babe in Jessica’s arms, his fat fingers clutching for her.

Peter poured for his wife, as she stood looking to me.

‘Are you a witch too now, Aunty?’

Anne laughed. ‘How you have grown, and just look at your strong brother!’ I watched as she breathed his smell of milk and sleep. ‘Here, sit with me, so I might whisper you secrets.’ What a good witch she was.

I looked to Peter’s hand in Jessica’s. They were close, strong, these two. Good people. A good family. And now a witch was among them. But this family had a witching way, I had seen it. For that there was more to say, so I would say it.

‘What do you know to be a witch?’ My voice stirred them from their watching.

‘I know! I know!’ Fay rocked upon Anne’s lap. ‘A witch knows magick and healing spells and speaks to animals!’

‘That is well, little one. And who told you these things?’

‘Mummy did. Didn’t you, Mummy?’

Jessica sat to the table, her husband’s hand still in hers. Did they hold each other for fear of me?

‘When Henry was born, I fell very ill, into fever and there was none that could help. Our priest—’

‘Do not talk of that man!’ Peter growled. ‘Bumbling Catholic fool. Salvation for your soul indeed. I could have boxed his ears!’ He swigged fiercely, muttering a curse.

‘But then, husband,’ her voice soothed him, ‘a woman came to our door. She had heard our trouble.’ Jessica looked me straight. ‘She was not much older than you. She worked to heal me. I could not tell you what I drank, what poultices she made day and night. But my fever passed. She healed me.’

Peter kissed her hand. ‘She did, and it is not God we thank.’ He raised his cup. ‘It is your kind, Eveline.’

Shame crossed my cheeks. I could not do what that young witch had done.

‘I am not like that,’ I said firm. ‘I only seek balance. To right the wrong upon my family. That is all.’

Peter leaned forward. ‘But these men you seek are dangerous. Armed. The trial will be thick with crowds…’ The wine made his words tumble together. ‘Will they not be looking for you? How will you reach them, fight them?’

‘I will find a way!’ My anger blew the candle flames. ‘As I swore it on Mother’s life as they took it! So I swear it now!’ And I reached to my bag, pulled the stone free, and brought it down hard upon the table.

Peter watched the stone roll to rest at the bowl of apples. ‘What is that now?’

‘That, Peter Merchantman, is my mother’s scrying stone…’

‘Oh, it’s so pretty!’ Fay reached for it.

‘No, Fay!’ Jessica swept the bowl from the table, dashed apples about the room.

‘Don’t worry! I will get those naughty apples!’ And the little girl ran to the shadows.

The stone sat upon the golden wood and the flames caught its grains of sparkling light. Jessica had moved so swift, without thought, a mother protecting her young.

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