Dragon Witch Series - Dragon Witch Part 15

"'Tis honest soil." The midwife's voice rang out in the silent room. "I am the best midwife in the kingdom. Ask any mother here." Murmurs of a.s.sent buzzed through the crowded hall.

"Clairesse may be correct," William said, trying to protect the woman he loved. "We do not know what causes some women to sicken with fever and die after childbirth."

"But then your child came, Milord, in a great rush of blood and birth waters, and its countenance was horrible to behold,"

said the midwife, wringing her hands.

"Nay!" William's cry of anguish filled the room, for he had yet to learn of the birth of his child.

"'Tis a boy child Milord. But 'twould be a blessing for us all if the child did not survive."

"Nay!" cried Clairesse, touching her belly which was great with child-William's child. "Every babe has a right to live, even if 'tis not perfectly formed."

"But you made a sign of the devil ere the babe entered the world," the midwife cried out in anger. "I saw it, as did every other woman there. You cannot deny that."

"I can deny it," Clairesse retorted. "I wished no harm to the babe. May the G.o.ds bear witness to the truth of what I say."

"Do others here say the same as the midwife?" William's voice was filled with despair. "I will have more testimony."

For he hoped to find someone who would help Clairesse. His mistress. His child. He could not, would not, pa.s.s the judgment that would end their lives.

One by one the women stepped forward to attest to the truth of the midwife's statement. Clairesse held her head high and looked each of her accusers in the eye.

"She made my cow go dry," yelled a man in the back of the room. "She just looked at it, and there has been no milk since."

"My garden withered and died when I refused to sell her

fresh carrots," said another.

A young girl who had been in the birthing chamber fell to the floor and began convulsing. The crowd drew away from her as she foamed at the mouth and babbled in a strange tongue.

A woman began screaming, "I am blind! The witch has taken my sight!"

"Burn the witch!" A voice rang out from the crowd.

Soon others followed suit until the great hall rang with the chant "Burn the witch...Burn the witch...Burn the witch!"

William raised his hands for silence. "I will not condemn a woman great with child," he said when the room had grown quiet. "Her innocent child is not on trial."

"'Tis demonsp.a.w.n she carries," a woman cried out. "I saw her dancing with the devil!"

"Burn the witch! Burn the witch!" The chant began again, filling the courtyard, overflowing the castle walls, reaching toward the heavens. "Burn the witch!"

"What did he do?" Tempest whispered. "Oh, what could he do?"

"He took my advice," Sardon answered, the lie coming easily to his lips as he continued his tale. He remembered how easy it had been to convince a frightened William to follow the plan-the plan that he, Sardon, knew would fail.

"Clairesse du Monterre, you have been accused of witchery," William choked. "You will be taken to the burning post and burned. May G.o.d have mercy upon your soul." His eyes burned into hers in an anguished farewell.

"Take her away." His voice was harsh with pain as he gave the order to his guards.

"My babe!" Clairesse's voice rang out above the clamor of the crowd. "You would burn our child, William?"

The room grew silent, all within waiting for his answer.

"'Tis not my child, woman, but the child of the demon you worship," he parroted, his eyes averted from her beseeching gaze. He rose from his chair and lurched from the room.

"Oh, nay," Tempest's voice choked with emotion. "How could he deny his own child? Had William no feelings?"

"Aye, my dear. He had feelings for the woman. She had

been his mistress for six years, and he truly loved her."

"But he told the guards to burn her." Tempest was pale, her hand clutched the goblet, her fingers white with tension.

"He denied his own child. How could he do such a terrible thing?"

"I told him we could take several days to erect the burning post and collect enough dry wood to burn her. During that time we should be able to come up with a plan to save her and his child. I believe he truly feared the mob his people had become, and I did not disabuse him."

"What happened?" There was hope in Tempest's voice.

Hope for that innocent woman of so long ago. Hope for the unborn child. But Sardon blithely dashed those hopes with his next words.

"We did not reckon with the mood of his people that night."

Sardon watched her closely, gleefully antic.i.p.ating her reaction.

"The whole village joined in. They brought a newly cut post, still green from the forest, secured it deeply in the courtyard; even the little children brought f.a.ggots to throw upon the pyre."

"Even the children?"

"Aye, witchling. Even the children." Sardon closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the memories of seeing William's lover burned, of seeing the agony on William's face as he struggled to free her.

"The pyre was ready within the hour, and Clairesse was dragged from the dungeon. She tried to walk with her head held high, but then something happened."

"Tell me they changed their minds," Tempest whispered.

"Tell me William was able to save her."

"Nay," Sardon answered. "As she walked toward the stake, her birth waters came in a rush, and she suffered the first pangs of birth. She screamed and tried to ease the pain by bending over, but the guards held her fast. Her face was contorted in agony, but still they dragged her inexorably to her death. They tied her tightly to the post, and the ravening beast which the villagers had become saw the way her body writhed as the child tried to force its way into the world.

"Still, the villagers had no sympathy for Clairesse, and

they cheered as the first f.a.ggot was lit."

"But where was William?"

"Locked in his tower." Sardon recalled his own feeling of ecstasy when William heard the tumblers fall into place; remembered how the key had felt as he turned it in the lock; relished the memory of William's anguished cries when he realized he could not save his mistress.

"Why? Who locked him in the tower?"

"He locked himself in, witchling."

"Nay!"

"Aye."

"Please...Tell me no more." Tempest tried to retreat physically and emotionally from the horror of what Sardon had related, but he held her captive with his eyes.

"They watched in silence as the first flames licked at her feet, and Clairesse screamed in agony as the flames and the pains of imminent birth hit her simultaneously. Then a flame caught the hem of her linen shift and crept slowly up her body.

"A small boy ran forward, throwing yet another f.a.ggot upon the inferno, and the flames rose higher and higher until she was engulfed. As the fire roared around her, she screamed and screamed, until finally silence reigned over the courtyard and the watchers heard only the crackle of the huge fire as Clairesse died.

"Then the sounds of William's anguish could be heard as he watched from his tower window. But he stopped his sobbing when the tiny wail of a newborn infant reached his ears. The wail turned into a piercing scream of intolerable pain as Clairesse's babe was also consumed by the flames and he joined his mother in death. William's horrified cries echoed across the courtyard, silencing all who watched."

Tempest jerked to her feet like a marionette, trying to escape the nightmarish vision of the story. Her face white as chalk, her mind spun as she sought sanctuary.

Adrian, her mind and soul whispered.

Adrian, who had been watching Tempest as she listened so intently to what that evil-looking man had been saying, leaped to his feet. In two long strides he was at her side and,

holding her tightly, whispered, "I am here, little Tempest. Fear not."

Tempest escaped the horror of Sardon's tale as she sagged into Adrian's arms, her mind releasing her body into unconsciousness.

The woman paled as she watched the scene in the crystal unfold before her horrified eyes. Even the man beside her was visibly shaken.

"Is there truth to this tale?" she asked, looking at the man beside her. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and slid silently down her wan cheeks.

"I am afraid so, my dear." He patted her hand gently.

"Humans can be very cruel at times."

"I am so glad I am not one of them," she said. "I can only hope that I have never been like them. I cannot believe such cruelty has ever existed."

"It has been ever so since the beginning of time," he spoke wistfully. "I only wish I could remember...."

EIGHTEEN.

"You must put her down, Adrian," Wendall said quietly.

"Miriam will be here soon, and she needs to examine her. She cannot do that if you are holding her."

"Nay." Adrian's jaw was set stubbornly as he sat on the bed, Tempest cradled gently but firmly in his arms. "She needs me to hold her. She is very frightened and I will not release her until she tells me to."

Wendall sighed in exasperation but said no more as he went in search of Miriam. She will be safe with Adrian, he thought.

I believe that young man would battle all the demons of h.e.l.l to protect Tempest. Did I betroth her too soon? he wondered.

Would Adrian have been a better choice? But I know nothing about him. He is a stranger. I know William. 'Tis best to leave things as they are. Tempest will be happy with William.

"Adrian?" Wendall did not hear Tempest's soft cry as he left the room, but to Adrian it sounded like a scream. He felt the fear in her trembling body.

"Tempest?" he gently brushed a stray curl from her cheek.

"I am here. You are safe with me."

"Do not let him burn me, Adrian." Her hands clutched him tightly as she buried her face in his strong neck.

He rubbed her back gently as he spoke. "None will harm you, little witch. I will protect you. Please do not cry, Tempest.

I cannot bear your tears."

"I am not crying." she raised her face to stare into his cobalt eyes. Her face was pale, but there were no tears in her green eyes as she spoke. "I never cry. Witches cannot cry."

"What happened? What has frightened you so?"

"Sardon told me about a witch that William sentenced to be burned many years ago." Her voice was a dull monotone as

she told him the story of William and Clairesse. Her eyes stared, unfocused, as she tried to distance herself from the horror. "How can I marry a man who would condemn his lover to the stake?"

"Do not worry, little one. I will kill William, and you will not have to worry about him any more," he comforted, his strong young arms still holding her tenderly. "I will kill that lizard- man also," he added softly.

"Adrian," she touched his cheek and sighed. "You cannot kill everyone who displeases you."

"William does not displease me, Tempest. I do not even know the man. But that lizard-man is evil and he needs to be killed."

"What do you mean 'lizard-man'? Twice you have mentioned that strange phrase, and I cannot understand of whom you speak" She thought a moment. "Do you mean Sardon di Mercia? He is ugly, but I do not think he looks like a lizard. Although he is a bad man, 'tis not your job to remove all the bad people from the earth. You cannot just go around killing people. And Father would be very angry if you harmed William's advisor. He is a guest, after all."

"Can you not see what your Sardon is, little witch?" Adrian asked. He remembered his shock at her calm acceptance of the man, how his hackles had risen as Sardon had seated himself beside Tempest. He could not understand why others did not see the saturnine features of Sardon di Mercia.

"Do not call him my Sardon. He is cruel, Adrian and only that. Why do you call him a lizard-man?"

"Because when I look at him I see a man in a black robe, but I also see an evil aura which surrounds him. 'Tis as if I see a man, but I also see a...a...dragon," he faltered. "Do you understand what I am telling you?" He needed to make her understand. Somehow she needed to be warned, made aware.