The Maid, the Witch and the Cruel Queen (5 page)

Father Walton nodded again. “Best thing for a witch. Fire.”

“The bush was dry...”

“It hasn't rained for weeks.”

“Exactly, so the bush began to crackle and the gold flames took hold. Then the door began to smoulder – its ancient wood was as dry as the dust on the daisies in Old Nan's garden. The woman screamed as the door burned through.

“We stepped back to keep from being roasted alive. They saw the woman's figure, head down, burst out through the charcoal ruins of the door.”

“So, you set the dogs after her? They love to hunt a running animal. They tore her into fifty pieces, I'll bet,” Father Walton crooned and licked his thin lips.

“Ah, no,” Sir James groaned. “That's when she used the witchcraft, isn't it?”

Chapter Six
The Flying Witch

Sir James Marley gripped his beer mug tight as he told his tale.

“Old Nan was fast as any hare. She had a start on the dogs. We lost sight of her as she ran up to the hill top. The dogs seemed too fat and full of flesh to chase her hard!”

I smiled as I listened. I'd fed those dogs well the night before.

“Then Old Nan stopped on the crest of a hill and looked back down at us. She dropped out of sight. Then the strangest thing happened. We heard a cry. ‘Leave me alone!' a woman screamed. But the sound didn't come from over the hill.

We looked back at the smoking ruin of Old Nan's house. And there she stood beside the doorway!”

“Witchcraft,” Father Walton groaned and crossed himself again. “What did you do?”

“We lumbered back down the hill to the cottage, of course. The dogs' noses told them she was over the top of the hill. Their eyes told them she was running downhill from the house. They ran round in circles then followed us back down the hill.”

“But did they catch her?”

“I'm coming to that,” Sir James said and supped his ale. “The woman disappeared into a small clump of trees. When we reached it she wasn't in sight. Then we heard her cry again...”

“You had her trapped in the wood,” the priest smirked.

“No! The voice came from behind us. She was at the top of the hill again! She couldn't have run! She must have flown. We set off back up the hill and she ran. It was a struggle but when we got to the top … she'd gone.

“We heard her cry, ‘Leave me alone!' and there she was – at the edge of the wood.

“All morning we chased her. When we thought she was in the wood, she was on the hill top. When we thought she was on the hill top, she was down in the wood.”

“Didn't the dogs catch her?” Father Walton asked.

“I'll swear at one time they did. I saw them race up to her on the top of the hill. There was sweat in my eyes but I swear they got to her. She just stretched out a hand and patted them! They wagged their miserable tails!”

The priest moaned. “You cannot fight the Devil!”

Of course, I knew they hadn't been fighting the Devil.

I knew they had been chasing two women – Old Nan was one. I was the other. We'd made a white wig from sheep's wool for me to wear. The hunters never got close enough to see who was really on top of the hill. Nan just stayed near the wood.

We took it in turns to cry “Leave me alone!”, and we watched the men run up and down the hill all the hot summer morning.

When the dogs caught me, of course they let me pat them! I was the maid that fed them!

“But that wasn't the worst,” Sir James said and held his mug out for more ale. I filled it and smiled.

Chapter Seven
Old Nan's New Guard

I knew the worst. At last Sir James Marley of Roughsike and Lord Scuggate had stumbled back to Bewcastle that morning.

Nan and I came together at the smouldering ruin of her cottage.

We heard the church clock strike a quarter to twelve and we heard his Lordship yell, “The queen! She'll be here soon!”

“No parade! No witch-burning!” Sir James wailed.

Nan and I watched as the two men rushed to the bridge together and, in their panic, crashed into one another and fell into the river. It's lucky the river was low after the hot summer weather or they'd have drowned.