The Witching of the King

by Greg Hoover

  Myles reached over and lowered the hood that was hiding the face of the witch. It was a man. His face was pale and his expression was blank. His eyes stared straight ahead. He looked familiar.

  “Martin Page!” I said, shocked. “You’re alive!”

  “He is not alive, and he is not dead,” said Myles. “He is in between. He cannot talk. He cannot think on his own. He must obey orders. He must do my bidding.”

  “Oh, my Lord,” I muttered, gazing in horror at the undead body of Father Page. I remembered that King James wrote about this in his book, Demonology. He described a type of undead human he called “the most curious sort.” I assumed it was just a Scottish superstition. But there he stood before me.

  “That’s impossible,” I said, struggling to understand.

  “Your own Bible speaks of it,” said Myles. “And the graves were opened, and many bodies of the saints which slept arose, and came out of their graves after the resurrection, and went into the holy city and appeared to many.”

  “That’s not what it means,” I protested. “It can’t be.”

  “Who are you to lecture me about matters of the spirit?” asked Myles. “The witch cult is the ancient religion of this land. We have been here for centuries, worshiping the horned god and the triple goddess. Dancing at night before the full moon. Until your kind came.”

  “What you have done is unnatural,” I said. “You have trapped his spirit here in the mortal plane. His soul longs for heaven.”

  “Enough talk,” said Myles. “You need not worry. We will not keep your soul here on earth for a moment longer.”

  “Wait!” I said.

  “Martin, bring me the boline,” said Myles.

  The undead body of Martin Page lumbered out of my view. He returned a moment later with a white-handled knife. It had a curved blade shaped like a crescent moon. He placed it into Myles’ waiting hand.

  The chanting resumed. The robed witches proceeded walking in a circle around the stone table upon which I was tied.

  Astarte, Isis, Diana,

  Demeter, Hecate, Kali, Inanna.

  Astarte, Isis, Diana,

  Demeter, Hecate, Kali, Inanna.

  “Help!” I screamed. “Please, someone help me!”

  The witches continued circling the table, chanting. My head continued to swim. The walls changed colors and swirled in strange patterns. Sick to my stomach, I felt like I was going to pass out. “Help me!” I screamed in desperation.

  Myles stopped on my left side and moved close to the table. The witches stopped and stood silently in the outer circle. He held the knife high in the air and the curved blade shone in the candlelight. He prayed aloud in a language I had never heard, holding the boline above my heart. “William Shakespeare,” said Myles in English. “In the name of the great horned god, I send you to the other side!”

  His hand tightened as he plunged the knife down towards my waiting chest. A deafening explosion rang out, and the room filled with smoke. Blood dripped from Myles’s mouth as he fell upon me, the knife dropping from his hand and clattering on the floor. Myles’s lifeless body lay upon me. The witch who was standing behind Myles pulled him off of me. He was holding the wheel-lock pistol I had stashed in my clothes and was standing in a cloud of smoke. He pulled back his hood. The last thing I saw before passing out was my rescuer’s face.

  It was Edward.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “The mind is a funny thing,” said Doctor Butler, checking my eyes. “It can do strange things when it’s under duress. You have no memories of how you got to my examination room?”

  “I’m afraid not,” I said, shaking my head. I glanced at Judith, her eyes heavy with worry. “Thank you for sending for my daughter.”

  Doctor Butler nodded. He walked over to a water basin, washed his hands, and dried them on a white towel. He seemed lost in thought. After a moment, he returned to the examination table.

  “Well,” he said, “from the look of you, it’s obvious they drugged you. That may explain some things.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Judith.

  “Certain medicines can make the mind see things that aren’t there.”

  “Like the walls dripping?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Doctor Butler.

  “Or Martin Page being undead?” asked Judith.

  “Perhaps,” said the physician. “But there’s one thing I can tell you from practicing medicine for so many years. The world is both stranger than we know, and stranger than we can know.”

  A knock came at the door and Doctor Butler answered. After a moment, Oliver Fletcher and Samantha Winston came into the room.

  “Oh, my friends,” I said. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Judith sent word to us,” said Samantha. “We came as soon as we heard.”

  “We’re so glad you’re all right,” said Oliver.

  “I’ve been better,” I said, and grinned. “But thank you.”

  “May I give you some good news?” Samantha said, her eyes shining.

  “I’d love some good news.”

  She glanced at Oliver and smiled. “We’re going to be married.”

  “That is exciting news,” I said, smiling back at them. “What’s next for you two?”

  “John Reynolds asked Oliver to help him work on a new English translation of the Bible. With King James’ permission, of course. After that, we will go back to Oliver’s parish,” said Samantha. “We will work together to bring healing to both sides of this religious struggle.”

  “A wonderful plan,” I said. “I wish you the best.”

  Samantha came to me and gave me a hug.

  “Thank you,” she said, “for giving me the chance to be an actor. What I learned while acting with the King’s Men will serve me well no matter what I do in life.”

  “I’m sure it will,” I said, smiling. “Over the past few days, I learned that the skills of an actor have a much broader application than I had realized.”

  “Thank you,” said Oliver, shaking my hand. “I’m afraid we must go, but we wanted to check on you. God bless you, my friend.”

  “I need to go too,” I said. “I have to report to the king and finally put this adventure behind me.”

  ***

  Standing in the Great Watching Chamber, I remembered that this was the room where my adventure really began. As I gazed around the chamber, spacious and beautiful, I smiled. King James sat before the fire in a plush velvet chair.

  “Would you like a glass of wine?” asked the king.

  “No thank you, Your Majesty,” I said. “After last night, I don’t suppose I will sample wine for quite some time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I told King James the whole story. He listened attentively and asked for clarification on a few points. He seemed fascinated that Anne had created the role of Ravynna, and how we used it to gain information.

  “Well done, William,” said the king at last. “My guards will take over from here. They will make arrests and seal off the rooms you discovered.” The king shook his head. “I never even suspected Myles. He was a great servant. Very loyal. Very attentive. Too attentive, come to think of it. But his thirst for revenge cost him his life. Yes, well done indeed. I must say, this turned out better than I ever imagined.”

  “Yes, my lord,” I said. “But my heart goes out to the priest, Martin Page. Seeing that kind man reduced to a mindless slave broke my heart.”

  “Yes,” said King James, shaking his head. “It would’ve been better if the poison had killed him. Bringing his
body back without his mind was perhaps the cruelest thing the witch cult did. You can rest assured that he will be well cared for. We owe him that. You did excellent work on this assignment, Will.”

  “I’m glad to be finished with it, Your Majesty,” I said. “By your leave, I will return to my room and sleep.”

  I bowed and walked across the plush carpet to the door. As I turned the doorknob, the king called my name.

  “William,” the king said. “One more thing.”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “I have a meeting to attend,” he said. “And I would like you to come with me.”

  King James stood and walked over to a bookcase. He pulled a book out and there was the sound of a mechanism releasing. He pushed against the right side of the bookcase, and it opened. It was a doorway. Stairs led downward and torches blazed on the walls of the stairwell.

  “Follow me, please.”

  We descended the stairs, and my stomach tightened. The air smelled fresh, not stale like the other underground lairs of the palace. At the bottom of the stairs, the room widened. Several passageways led in various directions. The room was well-lit with torches.

  “Your Majesty, where are we going?”

  “We are almost there,” he said. “This way.”

  We walked down one passageway and came to a heavy wooden door. The king knocked hard three times, followed by two soft knocks, and waited. After a moment, the door opened to a well-lit room. At the center of the room was a large oak table, surrounded by six chairs. Sitting around the table were faces I recognized.

  “Please come in, William,” said Archbishop Whitgift.

  “Thank you, your grace,” I said, entering the room.

  “Please,” said John Reynolds, “have a seat.”

  King James took his seat at the head of the table. I sat on his right and glanced around the room. The anti-puritan, Richard Bancroft, sat across from me. Next to him was the sexton, Alban Braunstone.

  “Alban,” I said, surprised to find him among such distinguished company.

  “Welcome to King Henry’s secret room,” said Alban, and smiled.

  “Alban is our technical advisor,” said the Archbishop.

  “Advisor?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Whitgift. “Alban has picked up a lot of occult information over the years, some of which is quite useful in this line of work.”

  “And some of which is clearly heresy,” said John Reynolds.

  “But useful, nonetheless,” said the king.

  Three loud knocks followed by two quiet ones sounded on the door.

  “Enter,” said the king.

  The door opened, and in walked Edward Wilkerson.

  “Edward,” I said, and stood up. “Your Majesty, arrest that man!”

  “Relax, William,” said the king. “Edward has been a part of our secret society since the beginning.”

  “Secret society?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said the king. “Edward has been working undercover for us. He was already investigating witchcraft at the palace when Myles Lewis tried to kill me. You were merely meant to be a distraction, to keep attention focused away from Edward’s work.”

  “I’m sorry I had to pull my gun on you and Anne,” said Edward. “But when you confessed that you were only pretending that she was the Witch Queen of England, it was my duty to arrest you both.” Edward smiled. “The king frowns on mere mortals usurping his throne.”

  “But why were you following me through the darkness the day before?” I asked.

  “I didn’t know it was you,” said Edward. “I had lost my light while looking for clues. I heard something moving in the darkness, so I went towards it to investigate.”

  “You heard something, and you went towards it,” I said, feeling a twinge of shame. “I heard something, and I went away from it. You are a braver man than I am, sir.”

  “But you turned out to be very good at investigating,” said Edward, smiling. “You did better than I did.”

  “Yes,” said the king. “So good, in fact, that we want you to continue working for us.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “William,” said Alban. “There are powers at work in this world beyond your comprehension.”

  “And there are creatures who prowl the night who would make your blood turn to ice,” said Reynolds.

  “Will,” said King James. “I’ve handpicked this team to oversee the investigation of many dark forces at work in the British Isles.”

  “Dark forces?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said the archbishop. “Witchcraft is only the beginning.”

  “There are men who turn into wolves when the moon is full,” said the king. “And night crawlers who stalk the living.”

  “And in Scotland,” said Reynolds, “there is a water dragon who lives in Loch Ness.”

  “There are necromancers who can raise the dead,” said Bancroft. He looked at the king. “They could turn them into an undead army to take England by force.”

  “Or so they say,” said Alban.

  “Yes,” said Whitgift. “Or so they say.”

  “That’s where we come in,” said Edward.

  “William,” said the king. “You will be our chief investigator of these matters. You will explore these mysteries and many others, and report back.”

  Stunned, I sat in silence for a moment.

  “William,” said the king. “Do you accept your new assignment?”

  “I can’t, Your Majesty,” I said, my mind spinning from all this information. “I have work to do. I have a family to support. I have to earn a living. And we have the play to perform tonight—”

  “Never mind that,” said the king. “Richard Burbage can handle that. And your new job will pay well. You might even become a rich man.”

  “If you live long enough,” said Edward.

  “You will return to London under the pretense of writing one of your plays,” said the king, ignoring Edward’s remark. “Which you will write as a cover to keep your real work a secret. But you will actually be working for me.”

  “But—” I said, but the king cut me off.

  “Will,” said King James, and he stared at me with his penetrating eyes. “I was only asking to be polite. I am your king. This is your new assignment. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” I said. “But what about the plague?”

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” said the king. “Leave tonight for London.”

  “What’s my first assignment?” I asked.

  “There is a group of vampires there who are being murdered,” said the king. “Investigate the murders. Find out who is doing it and why.”

  “And stop them,” said the archbishop, “by any means necessary.”

  “The vampires are being murdered?” I asked, struggling to understand.

  “Alleged vampires,” said Edward.

  “Why does His Majesty care if vampires are being murdered?”

  “William,” said Alban. “Things are not always what they seem.”

  ***

  Richard Burbage helped me load the carriage for my trip. We tied the luggage down, and I told him about my new assignment for the king.

  “And you have to leave tonight?” he asked, tightening a knot.

  “I’m afraid so,” I said. “I tried to talk Anne and Judith into staying here, but they both insisted on coming with me to support me in my work. In fact, Judith seems to love the idea of solving another mystery
.”

  Anne, Judith, and Susanna entered the courtyard. Anne and Judith wore their grey woolen travelling coats and matching bonnets. Dressed in a light-brown frock coat, Susanna linked arms with her sister. Her flaxen hair flowed in the icy winter air.

  “By the way,” I said to Richard, scratching my beard. “I have an idea for a new play. It’s about a Scottish general named Macbeth. Three witches prophesy that he will become king one day. But trouble ensues when his wife encourages him to take matters into his own hands.”

  “I want to play Macbeth!” said Richard, a big smile spreading across his bearded face. “He’s the lead, right?”

  Laughing, I hugged my old friend goodbye. Anne and the girls walked up to us.

  “I’m going to miss you!” said Anne, hugging Susanna tight.

  “I’ll miss you to,” said Susanna. “I’m glad we had a little time together.”

  “You’re staying here?” I asked Susanna.

  “Yes,” she said, grinning. “The palace needs a new herbalist. I’ve convinced them that I am an expert in medicinal matters. Now, I need to research my new role.”

  “Doctor Butler and Alban Braunstone can help you do that,” I said, smiling at both my children.

  “You’re going to miss all the fun,” said Judith, hugging her sister. “We’re going to have another grand adventure!”

  We climbed into the wagon and waved goodbye, ready to leave for London. The coachmen cracked the reins on the backs of the horses, and we were off. We bounced along, and I looked back at Hampton Court Palace. I thought of all of our adventures there, and all the ones to come. I noticed someone watching us from a palace window. Recognizing her, I waved, and she waved back.

  “Who’s that, dear?” asked Anne.

  “Her name is Sybil Penn,” I said, and settled back into my seat.

  Horse hooves clicked against the cobblestone street. Hickory smoke laced the afternoon air. As I ran my fingers through my hair, I noticed Anne looking at me for more information. I shrugged my shoulders.