The Maid, the Witch and the Cruel Queen (4 page)

Smack!
^“
Ouch!

Sorry, Queen Bloody...”

Smack!
^“
Ouch!

Sorry...”

The queen turned in her saddle and looked at Scuggate Manor.

“Is this pitiful pile yours?” she asked.

“Yes, Your Queenness,” Lord Scuggate babbled and burbled.

“I will show you who enjoys a good burning!” She turned to her captain. “Burn down his house!”

Before the clock struck quarter past, the stables had been emptied of horses and the hay set alight. The servants fled as the fire spread. The powder in the gun-room exploded and the sky was filled with crimson flames and black smoke.

Queen Mary nodded. She turned her horse and led her followers away from Bewcastle.

A sobbing Lord Scuggate was led away to the stocks to be pelted with rotting fruit.

There is a hill that looks down on the town. A grey-haired woman in a black dress stood on the top and shook her head.

Old Nan.

Chapter Five
Sir James's Terrible Tale

I went to the Cross Keys Inn when the queen had gone and was given a job as a serving maid.

I was invisible, as ever, as I served ale to Sir James Marley and Father Walton later that evening. I sat at a table and listened to the tale Sir James had to tell.

“I'll never go out on those moors again,” he groaned.

Father Walton's nose, sharp as a starling's beak, twitched. “Tell me about it.”

Sir James began and I, the invisible maid, listened and smiled.

“We'd just crossed the stream at Butterburn at dawn when we saw Old Nan. She sat up on the ridge and looked towards the sunrise.

“‘Hag!' we called her. ‘Hag!' and ‘Witch!'

“Lord Scuggate threw stones. They all missed and that just made him angrier. ‘The Devil's wrapped her in his hand. We'll never hit her with a stone,' he said.”

Father Walton made the sign of the cross. “The Devil can do that,” he breathed.

“That's when Scuggate said we'd have to hunt her down just like a fox. He said it would make good sport. We set off through the bracken and heather.

“The sun was getting higher and it was hot work, but we didn't mind. Old Nan looked at us and hurried off over the hill. We followed her.”

Father Walton nodded. “A witch can't fly her broomstick in the daylight.”

“We reached the top of the hill and we could see Old Nan's cottage below us. We slipped the leashes off the dogs. The dogs leapt forwards while the witch lifted up her skirts and ran.

“She reached the battered wooden door a moment before the howling hounds. They crashed against it just as Nan threw in the bolt,” Sir James said, and his eyes glowed with the memory.

“We reached the dogs and pulled them away. I called, ‘Come out, Old Nan! We won't harm you!' and Scuggate hissed, ‘No,
we
won't, but our dogs will tear you flesh from bone.'

“I heard her shout back through the door, ‘If you don't want to harm me, leave me alone!'

“We pulled some bushes from the garden and he piled them up against the door. I took a flint from my pocket and he started up a fire.”