by Mark Hockley
about her. "No blame can be attached to a Mother for a Husband's transgression."
"And yet," the other woman countered, "she chose him, did she not?"
"I vouch for her. I assume that is enough for you," Rosemary said, her eyes blazing.
Isobel's tone was dismissive when she replied. "Time will reveal the wisdom of such assurances, but this is not our only concern. Your new Mother," she addressed this now to Margaret, "surely she cannot be trusted. She does not recognise our heritage."
"I will be the judge of that," the elder witch said with force. "She is of my House now and therefore my Sister. Do not interfere in matters that are beyond your authority."
Isobel's face coloured with suppressed rage. "I am merely voicing what others are thinking"
Margaret showed little sign of emotion when she responded. "Indeed? Well, I will be sure to consider these thoughts when I am managing the affairs of my House."
There was a brief silence among them and tension crackled in the quiet.
It was Abigail who eventually spoke once more, her focus back on the proceedings. "Let us return now and think on what we have spoken about. Many things have happened and it is true there may be consequences that are as yet unforeseen. This makes it all more essential that the Covens work together. For the good of Witch Town." She looked at each in turn.
And then in one voice they all agreed. "For the good of Witch Town."
15
If I'm ever going to get out of Witch Town I need to learn everything I can about being a witch. I know, it sounds weird when I hear myself say it, but I guess it is what I am. Not the kind who rides a broomstick or waves a magic wand, but someone who can use words to control people, hurt them or maybe even worse things that I haven't found out about yet. But whatever I might discover in the future I know I have to be careful not to end up believing being like them is a good thing. Because it's not. I'm still the same person inside that I was before I came here. I'm still Ellie. Nothing will ever change that.
"She is due any time now," the woman said, "so she will need to be watched over. Is this a task that you can manage, girl?"
Beth's expression betrayed exasperation, but she held her tongue. "I did my best with the sewing," she explained, "but I was never any good at that kind of stuff."
The witch wore a white scarf, but the girl didn't know her name. She was just another of the many who attended the Coven and saw her as nothing more than a dogsbody to be ordered here, there and everywhere. "Obviously not."
The truth was Beth knew that she had really messed up. The white cloak she had been given to repair now resembled a rag. She was useless as a domestic and there was no arguing about it. Even the cleaning she had done wasn't up to scratch according to the boys who worked alongside her. They considered her to a liability and shunned her now. Joshua had all but disowned her, Beth's performance so poor in his opinion that he obviously believed she had disgraced him.
So now, almost as a last resort it seemed, she was going to be nursemaid to a heavily pregnant witch who was expected to give birth at any moment.
What did Beth know about babies? She didn't even have any brothers or sisters. And worse than that, she found babies annoying with their crying and all of that disgusting nappy changing.
All in all, Beth just wasn't really housewife material.
"You will attend to Joan and see to her needs. She will know when it is time and tell you to call for me. Is that clear?"
The girl nodded dumbly, realising there was no point trying to explain how unsuitable she was for this task. But then, maybe it would be easier and less unpleasant than some of the jobs she had been asked to undertake over the last couple of days.
The witch called Joan was resting in a bed within a small room on the second floor of the White Coven House and Beth found it difficult not to stare at her enormous stomach. She wondered just how huge this child must be to cause the woman's belly to expand so much.
"Can I do anything for you?" she offered in the friendliest tone she could manage.
Joan just gazed back at her with a pained expression. She looked to be in her early twenties and was propped up by several cushions behind her back. "A glass of water would be welcome."
Beth was glad to oblige and poured her some from a porcelain jug on a side table. "Is it bad?" the girl enquired as she carefully handed it over.
Taking a few sips, Joan tried to smile, but it was overtaken by a grimace. "Uncomfortable."
At least this one spoke to her as if she were human and Beth warmed to her a little. But also she subconsciously vowed that she would never let herself get into this state. It was gross. She glanced once more at the swollen stomach. Beth just couldn't see any way it was worth such a disfigurement!
"Is this your first baby?" she asked more to make conversation than because she was really interested. The witch nodded, shifting her weight to find a more comfortable position. "What do you want?" Beth continued, "a boy or a girl?"
Joan visibly started at this and her expression became stern. "Do you hope to insult me?"
Beth hesitated before answering, trying to understand why the woman had taken offence. "No, of course not. Did I say something wrong?"
The witch gave her a long, penetrating look, as if deciding whether the girl was feigning ignorance. "Only a girl will honour me, do you not understand that? Anything other than that would bring nothing but shame."
This made no sense at all to Beth. "Shame?" she questioned, "just because you have a boy? Don't you need boys just as much as girls?"
"Need them?" Joan said just as a spasm of pain hit her and the words came out as a hiss. "They are a necessity, but no more than that. Only through a girl child will we ever reclaim our rightful place. It is my heartfelt wish that my baby will one day become a Mother. May she be one of the elect of Witch Town."
The girl didn't really know what to say to this and when she did reply it sounded pretty lame. "Well I hope you get what you want."
Joan closed her eyes. "Only a girl," she breathed and there was a desperate note in the words that left Beth feeling troubled.
Something just felt very wrong and she was left to ponder the differences between the attitudes of the world she had grown up in towards men and woman and the way things worked here. It was hard for her to come to terms with. And she felt confused.
But for now she knew that she had to concentrate on the needs of this woman, who despite being one of the witches who held her captive, was about to bring a new life into the world. Whether it be a boy or a girl Beth took the responsibility seriously, so settled herself to wait for it to begin and help in whatever way she could.
Cows needed milking, chickens feeding and eggs collected. There was grain to store, butter to churn and vegetables to be pulled from the earth. And that was just the start of it.
Zack and Luke were getting a crash course in farming and they hated every second.
The dirt under Luke's nails annoyed him just as much as the hard labour. And when he walked into an impressively large cowpat, the resulting burst of colourful language was as much about how he felt about the entire wretched experience as it was about what was now clinging to his boot.
Zack meanwhile had other things playing on his mind, trying his best to adjust to the idea that Luke and his sister were man and wife. Obviously his rational brain kept telling him that it was all just stupid and meant nothing except in the deluded minds of the witches, but he found it disturbing nonetheless.
As was customary now, Leonie and Allana accompanied them everywhere they went, keeping close watch on them. Although both young women said very little while the boys were working, during their breaks they had become more talkative and seemed willing to answer questions, just as long as the topics were reasonably general and not considered subversive. It had been Allana who had first used that particular word when Luke had wanted to know why the men were expected to work so relentlessly, while the women seemed to just sit around admiring themselve
s. This had not gone down well with the witch from the White Coven and she had given the boy a lecture on his ignorance, the proper place of men in their community and how his subversive nature would be his undoing if he did not watch his step.
Although Zack had found it all quite amusing at the time, especially Luke's look of utter astonishment, he had since considered the implications and it had occurred to him that these women would not tolerate either their refusal to conform or them inciting the other men with what they considered to be dangerous attitudes from the outside world. They would need to be careful.
A little later he was given even more cause for concern when Allana, in another show of irritation with Luke who found it almost impossible to keep his mouth shut, had said in passing that his friend was following in the unfortunate footsteps of Leonie's husband and would meet the same fate if he did not change his ways. Zack had seen the strained expression on the other witch's face when she heard this said and he wondered exactly what had happened in the past. He stored it away, but was determined to find out more if he could.
With a stack of books taken from the library in her arms, Ellie made her way towards a meadow adjacent to her new home. She looked up at the imposing building where she now resided and experienced a wave of incredulity. It was all so bizarre.
She walked on a little further past hedgerows and saw men toiling in the
