Willow Witch

by Patty Jansen

  They might fight over religion if the Church of the Triune appointed a governor. They might fight over rights of inheritance if one of the King’s hated cousins tried to claim Saardam as his.

  Under the king, Saardam had become important as port city. Maybe even Estland or Burovia would try to claim Saardam to stabilise their access to luxury spices and tobacco, which the rich had so come to appreciate.

  Johanna’s thoughts went around and around in circles, and each time she revisited a particular line of thought, the ominousness of it seemed to have exploded until her thoughts were one big black pool of swirling evil magic.

  They had to get away.

  That thought was clear as glass to her. Roald could not fall into the hands of this duke.

  But how? This was a stupid place for trying to escape, far more stupid than the forest of last night. The sand would show every footstep, and would slow them down. They’d spent half a day plodding through the sand, and it would be easy for nimble, able riders and dogs to catch up.

  We could go into the forest.

  She shuddered at the thought, but the bandits might not expect their captives to flee in that direction.

  The saddles were right behind her. They would have to take horses, which were neatly stabled in the pen outside, and then ride until they came to a town. Florisheim, perhaps. That was where the baron had his castle, and the baron would be an enemy of the duke, if Roald’s information was correct. If the baron and his son had survived the fire—and she had to assume that or all would be lost—they would have returned home by now.

  Yes. That was probably their best chance. What was more, Sylvan had not gone outside after dinner, and would not have put his ward around the barn—probably because the people in the village would notice and would refuse to shelter “evil wizards”?

  How to get to Florisheim? Turn west and find the river. Then follow it upstream. It would not be the shortest route, but one the bandits wouldn’t expect them to take. They would expect them to go back to the Lady Sara.

  Johanna rose, carefully, trying not to make any twigs crack.

  Roald still lay as a warm presence next to her. She tapped him on the shoulder until he moved.

  “Wha—?”

  “Shhh.” She whispered at the place where she thought his ear to be, “We escape.”

  “Ohh, I like tha—”

  “Shhh. Be quiet.” Was it possible for him to whisper?

  One of the bandits gave a particularly noisy snore. Johanna held her breath, but his breathing settled again.

  She bent over and whispered in the hollow between Roald’s shoulder and his ear. “Stay here. Grab a saddle behind you. Wait until I say we’re ready to go.”

  Next, she found Nellie, who woke with a gasp. “What?”

  “Shhh. Get up.” Fortunately, Nellie didn’t protest.

  Johanna crawled to Nellie’s other side. “Loesie?” She shook Loesie’s shoulder, disturbed at how bony she felt through her clothes.

  “Hmmmm.”

  “Come. Be quiet.”

  As silently as she could, Johanna gathered up the blankets, draped them over the saddle that she picked up, and crept towards the barn door. The gear was so heavy that her arms were screaming. She had to put the saddle down to lift the wooden bar that locked the door. It creaked when she pushed it open and one of the dogs on the other side gave a warning woof.

  Johanna froze, waiting for the racket of barks that would surely follow. But the dogs only squeaked, sticking their noses through the gap between the door and the doorframe and the saddle.

  She stood still for a long time, but nothing moved. She let the hounds sniff her hand and the familiar smell of the saddle. A tail went thud, thud, thud against the outside of the barn wall.

  Johanna pushed the door open further and wriggled through, coming out in the cooler night air. The night was clear and the whole sky was so bright with stars that she could see the dark shapes of the dogs by starlight. The sky was never as clear as this in the hazy air of the coast. You could see all the constellations against the firmament of stars, a pale white band that arced across the sky. The moon had only just risen over the horizon, and its low light silvered the trees at the edge of the plain. Johanna waited outside the door until the others came through. The dogs crowded around her. She scratched their heads and behind their ears. In return they slobbered all over her hands.

  Roald came out after her, yawning audibly, followed by Nellie. Johanna pushed the door shut after Loesie came out. They walked a little away from the barn, followed by the dogs. The bears were nowhere in sight.

  “Where do we go?” Nellie whispered.

  “Get the horses,” Johanna said.

  “And then? I don’t want to go back through all that sand.”

  “We’re not. We go through the forest. We ride like crazy until we get to Florisheim.”

  “Ghghghghgh!” Loesie said and her voice sounded stressed.

  “We have no choice,” Johanna said. “Quick. Roald, you know how to handle horses.” She hoped he understood, because there wasn’t the time to explain. She hoped Loesie wasn’t going to do anything strange, because they couldn’t afford to slow down.

  The horses stood in the pen near the well, a mass of subtly shifting, breathing darkness. Johanna wondered why they hadn’t been allowed to roam like the previous night. Maybe Sigvald was afraid that they would get stolen, or maybe there was something out there that might eat horses.

  When Johanna came closer to them, one snorted nervously.

  Roald slipped past her, carrying his saddle and blanket.

  “Be careful,” she said. “They’re very big.”

  “I know about horses.”

  She hoped he was right. He climbed over the fence and disappeared into that dark mass of animals.

  They waited. The night was breathless and chilly. An eerie birdcall echoed in the still air. Nellie’s teeth chattered.

  “You’re cold?”

  “Yes. Nervous. I really need to visit the outroom.”

  “When we’re out of here.”

  Roald also seemed to have quite good night vision, because not much later, he emerged from the group of horses leading an animal by the reins. He opened the gate to the pen and deposited those reins in her hand. It was one of the smaller packhorses.

  “Here, hold on tight.” He ducked back.

  Johanna held on, but the horse was nervous, jiggling and pulling at the reins. The bears were somewhere around here, too, and if this horse kept going like this, the dogs would start barking and then everyone would come out.

  Roald brought two more horses, giving the reins to Nellie.

  “How are we going to get on their backs,” Nellie said through her chattering. “They’re so big.”

  “We’ll have to walk the horses out and climb on once we get to the forest. We’ll have to walk really slowly, or everyone will hear them.”

  Roald came with the last horse. “I’ll leave the gate open.”

  That was a good idea. If the bandits woke up and discovered the horses loose, it would take them a while to find out that some were missing.

  “Let’s go,” Johanna whispered. She was looking around for the bears but didn’t see them anywhere.

  But the horses saw something. Her horse was snorting and tossing its head. Another horse whickered in the dark.

  Nellie squeaked.

  “Calm down. I’ll take these two.” Roald took the reins from her. He was really quite good at this practical stuff. This place where he had spent the last few years sounded more like a religious farm.

  Johanna turned her horse away from the houses of the village. There was now barel
y enough moonlight to see the outlines of the forest in the distance.

  “They’ll see our tracks in the morning,” Nellie whispered behind her.

  “Yes, but we’ll ride soon. Once we’re in the forest, our tracks will be less easy to see.”

  They walked quietly in single file. Johanna desperately wanted to go faster, but couldn’t, because the horses would make too much noise. They now went up the sand hills and no one had breath for speaking. The horses seemed to have settled and plodded along peacefully.

  Johanna could barely believe it, but it started to look like they had finally escaped.

  Fields with crops stretched out on both sides of the path, probably oats and barley, but it was too dark to see.

  They stopped at the edge of the field where the village was barely visible. The moon had risen over the trees and cast pale light over the world. The forest was a dark wall to their left, silent and brooding. There was not a breath of wind, but Johanna thought she could hear the leaves rustle.

  The ghosts are already talking about us. Johanna shivered. All evil magic came from forests, she was sure about that.

  Roald went around the horses to fasten and check the saddles on all of them. “Eastern saddles,” he said. “I know how they work.” He went back to his horse, and swung himself up.

  Johanna tried to do the same, but oh, that awkward dress, and this horse was absolutely huge. There was no bandit to help her up. Nellie was struggling as well.

  Johanna went to help her first and managed to push Nellie on top of the horse, but it fidgeted, and Johanna had to keep hold of the reins. Nellie was not a rider and might have ridden a pony maybe once or twice. She had to hitch her dress up high and now the horse wouldn’t stand still for Nellie to get used to it.

  “It’s so tall. I’m afraid to fall off. I don’t know that I can ride that well.”

  “Neither can I. Just do the best you can.”

  Just as well Roald had chosen the packhorses. Imagine what those giant black beasts would be like with clumsy riders.

  Roald’s horse didn’t fidget. It stood perfectly still, its ears pricked forward. Roald was a silhouette in the saddle, sitting straight-backed.

  With a lot of effort, Johanna managed to clamber up her own horse. “Ready to go, everyone?”

  Loesie still stood next to the horse, silhouetted in the moonlight. Her hair was a tangled mess and the moonlight made the outline of it glow like silver. Like a ghost.

  Johanna shivered. “Loesie, get on.”

  “Ghghghghghgh.”

  “Hurry up, we need to get out of here.” What was going on with Loesie? Surely she wasn’t afraid of a horse? The horses they’d use on the farm were big, too. She would know how to ride.

  Loesie reached for the horse, but the moment she touched the reins, the animal stiffened. The ears went back. The head jerked up.

  Roald said, “Whoa!”

  Johanna’s horse snorted and sidled sideways, also tossing its head.

  “Calm down, calm down.” She patted the horse’s neck, but felt the muscles strain under the skin.

  Loesie again reached out for the horse’s reins. As she did so, the moonlight hit her bare hand, bathed in a silvery glow stronger than moonlight alone could have made it.

  She yelled, “Wait.”

  Loesie’s horse reared with a scream that echoed over the field. Loesie retreated, holding her arm over her head, away from the horse’s kicking hooves.

  Johanna’s horse shied back. She had to hold on tightly just to stay on. Loesie’s horse broke into a run around the other horses, its tail held high.

  “Loesie, are you hurt?” Johanna reached out her hand to her friend. “Come over here.” But her horse made unhappy noises and shied away from Loesie.

  Roald slid off his horse. He made a grab for the reins of Loesie’s horse, but it reared, kicking its front legs.

  “Watch out!”

  In the distance, the bandits’ other horses replied. Some of them came running through the fields with a thudding of hooves. Men shouted in the village.

  “Quick, get out. Hide.” Johanna flicked the reins. Her horse took off with a speed she had thought impossible for a boring old packhorse.

  ‎

  Chapter 7

  * * *

  THE HORSE tore down a muddy path, throwing up clods of dirt with its hooves, and then plunged into the darkness of the forest. Johanna had to hold on with all her might not to fall off. The horse wouldn’t stop. She had dropped the reins and they dangled somewhere down the sides of the horse’s neck, but she couldn’t get them without letting go of the edge of the saddle and if she did that, she would surely fall off. She had no idea if anyone still followed her. It was too dark between the trees. She thought she heard the sound of hooves behind her, but couldn’t be certain. In fact, the further into the forest the horse went, the less certain she became.

  A quick glance over her shoulder revealed only darkness. No sign of Roald’s horse. No sign of the bandits. She had no idea where Nellie was, or whether Loesie had been left behind or had managed to climb on another horse. She had no idea and no control over where the horse was going. Only that it was going too fast. Distant voices echoed through the forest. Dogs barked. They would probably catch up soon. Or the bears would find her.

  The horse ran and ran. Now they came through a section where it was darker than before, and where prickly branches slapped her sides. The horse’s footfalls sounded muffled here. Trees grew close together here, forcing the horse into a trot and then a walk.

  A scent of pine needles hung in the air.

  Now that she no longer needed to hold on for life, Johanna fished up the reins which still dangled to the sides. The horse’s flanks were wet with sweat. She pulled the reins.

  “Whoa, stop.”

  The horse stopped, panting.

  Johanna looked around. They were in a very dark spot between pine trees that grew so close that the tips of branches pricked through her dress.

  Johanna listened.

  The only sounds came from much further away: the rustling of leaves, the breaking of branches, the footfalls of hooves on the forest floor. No sounds that made it clear if these were bandits or her companions. No barking of dogs either.

  Johanna waited, holding her breath to listen better. Whoever had been following her must also have stopped.

  She let out her breath and held the next one.

  Would Nellie, Roald and Loesie have been recaptured?

  Poor Nellie.

  What had Loesie done when touching the horse? She had ridden with the bandits for the past two days without much trouble. And then a chill: had she done it on purpose? She had done her best to help Loesie, but no one else had trusted her.

  Where was Roald?

  Her hand went to the ring she wore under her dress, which hung heavy against her skin. The key to keeping war out of Saardam and keeping the country together.

  Johanna waited, but the sounds made by other people and horses faded until they were so faint that it was impossible to separate them from the sighing of the wind in the boughs.

  Had they given up looking for her, sure that whatever lived in this forest would finish her off anyway?

  She felt cold.

  The trees whispered to each other in voices she couldn’t hear. Animals scurried up there and talked to each other with little squeaks and squawks. They must be birds or the little long-tailed squirrels that ran up a tree trunk as if it was a horizontal path. Let’s stay calm and not see things where there weren’t any.

  Johanna swung her leg over the horse and let herself slide to the ground. She landed in a carpet of pine needles that was soft and springy. The dense co
ver of pine trees made it so dark here that it was impossible to see the ground, but a bit further shafts of moonlight penetrated the canopy. The trunks of trees stood as silhouettes against the faint glow. They were strange trees, straight with dead branches at lower levels.

  She tied the horse’s reins onto a tree and peered between the foliage. The damp and cold air reached its fingers between the gaps in her clothes.

  What would she do if no one from the group had escaped? Would making her own way through the forest be out of the question?

  She should warn someone in Florisheim.

  But you don’t know where the bandits are going, the little voice that sounded like Nellie said.

  But she knew some of their names, if they were real names.

  Who in Florisheim is going to care about some foreign people when they probably have their own problems to deal with?

  Nellie’s voice was right. Alone, she couldn’t do much, never mind convince a foreign baron to send out men to look for a couple of girls, one of whom was a maid and the other bewitched, and a prince no one wanted to know about—all of them foreigners. Add to that the fact that she’d have to cross the duke’s land first.

  So she waited.

  The biting cold made her shiver. She tried to keep herself warm by snuggling against the horse, but this particular horse was not the snuggling kind. It also refused to lie down and was probably more interested in finding a paddock than keeping a miserable human being warm.

  Very slowly, morning light returned, first weak and blue, then brightening into the soft grey tones of mist. Johanna’s view of the forest expanded with the increasing daylight. In places, the trees stood close to each other, but in other places light reached the forest floor and grass covered the ground. She could see no sign of anyone having passed this way.

  Behind her, the horse pulled at the reins she had tied around a tree. Its ears twitched constantly.