“Two?” said Richard in alarm, scrambling to his feet.
“Ah, yes, you didn't get in. In addition to Lavinia Ashmore - a most beautiful creature by the way, her erstwhile sister, Catherine is with her. Unfortunately, she is not there against her will. Quite the contrary in fact. Now, please drink. It will restore your strength, and believe me, you'll need it.” When Richard still hesitated, Hewitt moved to his right and extracted a long glittering object lying in the undergrowth. “Your sword,” he said holding it out.
Richard sheathed it back in his belt and drank the water-like contents of the goblet. Instantly, his blood seemed to pump twice as fast. He was warm, brave, and invincible. “Let's get the hag,” he snarled, and turned to face the tower.
“No,” said Hewitt firmly. “Rashness has led many good men to destruction. Your course lies in another direction.”
“But Lavinia…”
“…will be safe if you do exactly as I tell you. Now, where is your horse? I think he also needs a little restorative.”
“He’s over there.” Richard pointed in the direction of the trees.
“My son,” said Hewitt as they walked towards the horse, “before we set forth, I must advise you that we will be facing a Being of unimaginable power, and I'm not referring to Mistress Dymock. I have seen things that no person, living or dead, should see. A man was boiled alive in a vat of oil simply for saying the word 'god'. A woman was raped for two days by a fiend. She was literally eaten alive as the creature devoured his own sperm. Her crime was to ask for water. The mortal conception of evil and what I will loosely term, Hell, falls way wide of the mark. Evil can never be defeated, however, under certain circumstances and with God's help, it can be thwarted, and that's precisely what we're going to do tonight.”
Merlin had no hesitation in drinking the water, and like Richard, seemed re-charged with energy and vigour. In fact, Richard had never seen him look so good.
“He thinks he’s a colt again,” he said as he mounted. “What did you give us?”
“Holy water – what else?” Hewitt smiled. “Now, go to the ‘devil’s bowl’ and wait. Ensure Merlin is safely out of sight and then conceal yourself near the rim. Please, do not act rashly when you see Lavinia. You will know in your heart when the time is right.”
“Where will you be?”
“Oh, I’ll be there, just not in my current form.”
“Invisible?”
“Yes.”
Richard had taken a great liking to the monk. Nevertheless, he hesitated before asking, “Will I see you again after tonight?”
“Hmm… an interesting question. On the whole I should say not, at least not in a mortal sense. My destiny, if I may use the term, lies in a different direction.”
***
Meanwhile, Alice and Mistress Craddock were still at the hut, impatiently awaiting the return of Percy. “What took you so long?” demanded Fanny when the familiar finally returned. She took in his cadaverous appearance. “And why are you disguised thus?”
“The errand proved not straight-forward as expected. I have had a busy time of it, I assure you. Upon arriving at the manor, I found it surrounded by Thomas Metcalf and a host of armed men. Their purpose was two- fold. Firstly, to release Knowles and Twissleton. Have you ever seen a man look more like an ape?”
“Yes, yes, get on with it,” said Fanny testily.
“The second reason,” and here Percy looked at Alice with glittering eyes, “was to seize you. Metcalf however, met with considerable opposition headed by Master Nicholas and a band of equally determined men. I judged it imprudent to remain as Richard Faulkner, so changed persona thus, and spoke to that blithering idiot, Henry Dowrimple.”
“Henry?” said Alice in surprise. “He sided with Metcalf?”
“He’s Metcalf’s spy, and anyone else’s who’ll pay him.”
“The bastard,” said Alice bitterly.
“I pretended that you had damaged my throat, hence I only spoke in short rough whispers and hand gestures, but he understood my meaning alright. He couldn’t wait to give the information to Metcalf.”
“And Nicholas? Did you manage to tell him also?”
“I didn’t need to. He was standing at the gate and overheard everything.”
“You acted your part to perfection,” crooned Fanny. “No witch had a better familiar.”
“Your praises make me blush,” rejoined Percy.
Alice was in no mood for sickly sentiment. “What happened next?” she asked impatiently.
“Metcalf retreated. He ordered his men back to the mill, presumably to formulate strategy. I then became invisible and followed Nicholas into the house. We went to a room where we found Knowles and Twissleton asleep in chairs and snoring like pigs. Nicholas awakened them and explained the situation. He guaranteed their safety and freedom if they would help him break-up the covenant. They agreed, Master Twissleton declaring that it would compensate him for all his missed chances, especially if he could arrest Mistress Dymock at the same time.”
“I hope he gets his wish,” said Fanny.
“Be careful what you wish for,” said Percy with a laugh. “He declared that his next step would be to arrest you.”
“Arrest me?” she repeated in an outraged tone. “Let him touch me if he dare. My term is not out yet, and with thee, my brave coxswain, to defend and protect me, I have no fear.”
“I have not quite finished. Just as I was leaving, Sir Howarth Faulkner and a party of six men arrived. An explanation from Nicholas put Sir Howarth in possession of the facts, and the squire declared his readiness to accompany the expedition. I am bound to tell you, Mistress Nash, that the squire regards your conduct as deplorable.”
Alice shrugged. “I care not what happens to me if I succeed in rescuing Lavinia.”
“And now, good mistress,” said Percy, “dismiss me. I want to cast off this shape, which is most displeasing, and resume my own. I will return when it is time to depart.”
Fanny waved her hand and the familiar disappeared, and once again Alice’s patience was put to the test. A cup of hot spicy wine and freshly baked oatcakes soothed her nerves, albeit temporarily. She also needed to do something with her clothes. As Fanny candidly pointed out, the black cloak was not enough for complete disguise, and in the moonlight, the fawn dress would stand out like a beacon. Various garments were tried and discarded, and it soon became obvious that nothing would fit.
***
An hour later, and with her clothes now blackened with soot from the fire, Alice, Fanny, and Percy, were standing behind some trees near the rim of the ‘bowl’. The area was wrapped in a swirling black cloud, and Alice could scarcely see a yard in front of her. Percy's eyes however, pierced the gloom with consummate ease.
“We are not alone,” he whispered. “Sir Howarth and Metcalf are positioned either side, and Nicholas has just fallen over Richard Faulkner, who was lying in the grass. Wait… there’s someone else.”
“Who?” asked Fanny anxiously. “Friend or foe?”
“That rather depends on your point of view. It’s Davy Ashmore. Well done, my lad.”
“What has he done?”
“Grabbed Twissleton and dragged him into the trees,” replied Percy, laughing quietly. “Wait… there’s more. Look into the centre of the bowl.”
As he spoke, dark and misshapen figures began flying over their heads, some dropping bundles of brushwood and fagots into the hollow. Clearly a bonfire was being built. This was soon followed by a hubbub of excited voices.
“Why are we brought hither?” It was Willy Worms, the gravedigger.
“It can’t be for a sabot,” said Mistress Remick, “we had one last night.”
“Mistress Dymock would not summon us without good reason,” said another female.
“The more mischief the better,” rejoined Willy with a laugh. “Remy, my dear, suck my cock while we’re waiting.”
“Suck thy uncouth prick yourself,” she shot back, which cau
sed screams of laughter.
A hooded figure approached the group. “You shall have more than enough to satisfy you soon,” said Margaret Dymock.
“Why have ye summoned us?” asked Willy, who, seemingly undeterred by the earlier rebuke, was groping Mistress Remick’s breasts.
“To witness a sacrifice.”
A woman stepped forward and asked with relish, “Who is to be sacrificed? Is it an unbaptised babe snatched from its sleeping mother's breast?” There was a seductive groan and a rustle of skirts. “Oh, the excitement is too much. Someone play with me.”
“Enough!” shouted Margaret irritably. “It is no babe but a full-grown maid - Lavinia Ashmore.”
Still in their hiding place, Alice made to dart forward but Fanny held her back. “No, not yet. The time is not quite right.”
Alice listened as several voices said in surprise, “Thy granddaughter?”
“She is not my granddaughter. She is the spawn of that detestable whore, Alice Nash. Aye,” she responded to the outbreak of muttering. “She is the daughter of Alice Nash. I tried everything to conquer her soul but she was uncommonly resistant, so I will use her virginity to my advantage, and you all know what that means.”
“Oh, let me! Let me!” cried Willy, unfastening his hose.
“Touch her and you die where you stand!” Einyon’s voice rang out from the back of the now considerable crowd. Powerful and imposing, a path immediately opened up. “Your puny cock wouldn’t even break her hymen,” he said to Willy as he walked past. “Light the fire!”
“You have the knife?” asked Margaret as a burst of flames shot skywards.
Einyon produced a dagger about six inches long, the hilt comprising of two twisted snakes. “Bring the maid,” he ordered.
Lavinia, her eyes blank and unfocused, was led forward by Catherine, whose own eyes danced in the firelight. Alice, unable to endure the agony any longer, screamed, “My child,” and ran into the hollow, closely followed by Fanny and Percy.
Alice flew to Lavinia, and with indescribable delight, clasped her child to her breast. A moment later, delight turned to terror. Though seemingly alive, Lavinia was stiff and cold.
“She is dead,” exclaimed Alice frantically.
“No,” said Percy, who was now invisible, so that Alice could only hear him. “She’s in a magical trance. I will revive her,” and in the next instant, Lavinia began to show signs of life.
“Where am I?” she asked feebly.
“Oh, my child,” cried Alice through brimming eyes. “I am come to save thee!”
“You will scarce succeed if you tarry here any longer,” said Percy grimly.
“Aye,” shrieked Fanny, seizing Lavinia by the arm. “I rescued her, she is mine now.”
Alice stared at her. “You mean you…? No! No, you can’t have her. Oh, I see through your diabolical plot now. You have the same dark design as Margaret. I would rather die than give her up.”
“Which can easily be arranged,” said Einyon, flipping the dagger in his hand. “And Percy,” he added, “make yourself visible, your true appearance if you please, otherwise it will be a one-sided conversation.”
The familiar was old, ugly, and barely four feet tall. “Mistress, drag the girl away or you will lose her.” Fanny made an attempt to obey him but Alice held on tight.
“Over my dead body!” she yelled.
“Curses on you! She is too strong. Percy, help me.”
“I cannot,” he replied. “I have done all I dare.”
“My sweet imp, you seem to forget that I’m your mistress.”
“I have a master too, and he takes precedence.”
“And he will chastise thee if thou disobey me. I command thee to carry off this girl.”
“No.”
“No?” she repeated, infuriated. “Then defy me at thy peril!”
Percy laughed. “I have done with thee. In helping this witch,” he pointed to Alice, “who thinks to out-wit the master, he has disowned you. Your compact with him is void, but you’re such an evil bitch anyway that he’ll be claiming you soon, though why he wants a shrivelled hag is beyond me.”
“You lie!”
“He doesn’t,” said Einyon calmly. He also pointed to Alice. “Like her, you have no powers. Go on, try it.”
Fanny desperately clicked her fingers and waved her hands. Nothing happened. “Percy, my sweet Percy,” she said saucily, dropping to her knees and fumbling with his clothes. His long black member was disproportionate to his size. “Let me kiss it better. You know how you like that.”
“Now that’s a cock,” said Einyon, looking pointedly at Willy.
“Ooh,” cooed Mistress Remick, “I wouldn’t mind some of that myself.”
“Mother,” said Lavinia weakly, who amidst the badinage seemed to have been forgotten, “I want to go home.”
Before Alice could respond, Percy grasped his elongated member and used it to strike Fanny. The blow was so hard that she might have been hit with an iron bar. “Curses on thee for thy treachery,” she screeched. “Aye, and on thy deceitful master.”
“Lavinia,” said Alice, vainly attempting to shield her from the horror, “have you the strength to walk? We must get out of here.”
“I am too weak to move. Besides, I have been deceived once already. You may be an evil spirit in the likeness of my mother.”
“Oh, no, I am indeed your mother,” said Alice frantically. “Ask Fanny if it is not so.”
“She is a witch herself. I will not trust either of you. You are both in league with Mistress Dymock.”
“We were in league to save thee from her,” said Fanny bitterly, “but look what it has cost.”
“If you won’t flee,” said Alice, “then kneel down and pray for deliverance.”
“Now I know you’re my mother,” said Lavinia, as an unnaturally loud roll of thunder wrenched the air.
There were shrieks and screams and Einyon bellowed, “The master is angry.”
Fanny, blood pouring from her nose, took advantage of the momentary chaos to whisper to Alice, “Be on your guard. I will aid you if I can.”
Not quite believing what she’d heard, Alice braced her shoulders just as Einyon handed the dagger to Margaret. “You know what must be done.”
“I certainly do. But first, I have a little business of my own,” and with surprising strength and swiftness, Margaret grabbed Fanny by the throat, hauled her half- way to her feet, and plunged the dagger into her chest.
Blood spurted everywhere as Fanny fell to the ground. “Percy,” she said weakly. “My sweet, sweet Percy.”
Margaret laughed hysterically and then turned the dagger on Alice. “You will witness thy daughter’s sacrifice before you are slaughtered, and if you beg prettily, I might make it quick.”
“Wilt thou accept my life for hers?”
“Surely you jest,” said Margaret scornfully. “Einyon here, my own true father, is looking forward to poking her nice tight cunni on behalf of the master. He doesn’t need a slack flabby sewer. Seize the maid!”
And as three witches moved forward and grabbed Lavinia, there was a tremendous cry of, “Attack!”
Scores of men poured into the hollow, shouting obscenities and with bloodthirsty eyes. Margaret, the gory knife still in her hand, screamed at Einyon, “Do it! Fuck the maid!” but he had already gone. At the same moment, Alice ran forward, punched the old woman in the face, and seized the knife.
“Now it is my turn to threaten,” she said, breathing hard and holding Lavinia in her arms again.
“Ha!” Springing nimbly backwards, Margaret waved her hands. Instantly, Alice and Lavinia became rigid as statues.
“She will die before your eyes,” said Margaret triumphantly, snatching the knife out of Alice’s hand.
There was a puff of black smoke and Percy appeared. “Too late, it’s past one o’clock.”
“What?” exclaimed Margaret in alarm, her face stricken with terror.
“Your reign is
over. The compact has expired. You have performed your last act as a witch. See you down below,” and with a burst of hideous laughter, the familiar sank beneath the ground.
Fanny, though weak and close to death, laughed derisively. “You’re done for, just like me.”
Terrified by the sight of the advancing men, many of the witches had turned and fled, including Nancy Redfern. But at least a dozen were caught and thrown ignominiously to the ground. Richard ran towards Alice and Lavinia, whose inert state had ceased when Percy had vanished.
“Lavinia,” he exclaimed, “thank God you’re safe.”
“Oh, Richard,” she replied, falling into his arms. “How did you get here? Who are all these men?”
“It would take too long to explain it now. Suffice to say that I had divine intervention.” He turned murderous eyes on Margaret. “And you know who I mean.”
Margaret stood in contemplation of the flames. Her hand still grasped the dagger, but it now hung limply by her side. “The monk,” she said quietly.
“He has waited a long time for vengeance, but it has finally arrived.”
“And so has mine!” and with an unexpected burst of energy, Margaret lunged at Lavinia, the dagger flashing in the firelight.
Richard was the quickest to intervene, grabbing the hag’s arm with such force that it almost broke. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t throw you on that fire,” he hissed viciously, wrenching the knife out of her hand.
Margaret opened her mouth to spit out a curse, and then changed her mind. She had seen something the others had not. A man was hauling Catherine Ashmore out of the hollow. She was biting and kicking like a wild animal, but Margaret knew the child would soon be calm. Though his face was obscured by a wide brimmed hat, she would have recognised him anywhere, even in the dark. It was Davy Ashmore.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Second Malediction
Nicholas and his father approached the group. “I think you’d better give that to me,” said Nicholas, taking the dagger from Richard. “You might cut yourself.”
“Alice,” said Sir Howarth sadly, “why do you loiter? I have held back in order to give you chance to escape.”
The Sisterhood:: Curse of Abbot Hewitt Page 21
