Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Today, they would go into the woods and try to summon the witch with an incantation she knew. Her concern was which witch she would summon.
Freyda leaned closer to whisper, “You should know that William speaks against you.”
“I expected it when he warned me to be a good wife and serve my husband not my interest in plants.”
“He continues to accuse you of placing a curse on Declan. He tells the villagers to watch and see how your husband cannot go near you. He warns others to be careful that you might do the same to other men, so their wives should be wary.” Her tone was sharp with disapproval, though not at Aura. “It’s poison in the air, Aura. The kind that spreads fast.”
Before Aura could respond, the door to the hall opened and Declan strode in, his expression like a thundercloud. His gaze swept the room and found her at once. They had yet to speak to each other this morning, keeping their distance so they didn’t feed the gossip, though that was gossip enough since they were usually together.
He crossed the hall in quick, sure strides, pausing only to speak to Hamish in a low tone. Moments later, Hamish hurried out of the hall to return with William in tow.
The cleric stopped before the dais where Declan sat, a pious tone to his voice. “You wished to see me, my lord?”
“I did,” Declan said, his voice hard. “You will take your leave today.”
William’s brows lifted. “For what cause? For speaking the truth? The people have a right to protect themselves.”
“The truth?” Declan stepped closer, his voice strong and firm. “You spread fear like a sickness, casting suspicion on my wife without proof or cause. That ends now.”
William clasped his hands before him. “If my words are false, why does the curse cling to you still? Why can you not go near her?”
“That is no concern of yours,” Declan shot back. “But hear me… there is no witchcraft in my wife. And if you cannot accept that, then you have no place among my people.”
A murmur ran through the few who lingered in the hall, drawn by the tension in the air.
William’s gaze slid to Aura, lingering too long before returning to Declan. “Be sure of what you say, my lord, for consequences have actions.”
“I am sure,” Declan said, each word like a stone dropped in still water. “Now leave us and do not return here.”
William’s mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Very well,” he said, dipping his head in a shallow nod. “I will leave… for now. But remember, my lord, some shadows follow whether you wish them to or not.”
Declan’s gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t fear shadows or the dark.”
“You might want to think again, the shadows hold more than you know.”
The cleric turned and strode from the hall. The low hum of conversation that followed him told Declan his departure wouldn’t silence the gossip.
Aura rose from her seat beside Freyda and called out to her husband. “I have something I must tend to in my work cottage. I will not be long.”
He gave her a short nod, knowing she was preparing for the incantation she would cast. “Meet me in my solar when you are done.”
He waited until the door closed behind her, then he retreated to his solar.
The familiar space greeted him with the faint scent of oak smoke and—he stopped after closing the door and sniffed the air. Pine. Where did that come from? He saw no pine branches lying about, the servants sometimes placing them about to scent the air.
A movement in the corner drew his attention and he stilled.
A woman stood in the dim light, her dark cloak blending into the shadows. Her eyes, sharp and knowing, fixed on him with unsettling calm… the witch.
Aura pushed open the door to her work cottage, leaving gray skies behind her as she was greeted by the familiar scent of dried herbs. She began gathering what she needed for the incantation; small bundles of rosemary and rowan twigs, a smooth river stone she had kept for years, and the hag stone found at the ring of stones, having included it for extra protection. Her movements were quick, practiced, but her thoughts kept slipping to Declan.
What if William’s poison had sunk too deep into the clan? What if they couldn’t break this curse before suspicion turned into something far more dangerous?
She tied the last sprig of rosemary, setting it with the rest, and reached for her leather pouch. If the incantation worked, the witch would appear, hopefully the right witch, or at least a helpful one. It was the reason she hadn’t summoned a witch before now, fearful of who she might call on.
The quiet of the work cottage pressed around her, broken only by the faint crackle of the small fire in the hearth. She should remain focused on her task at hand. But something nagged at her and instead, her mind wandered. The memory of the first cleric crept unbidden into her thoughts, the details clearer now than they had once been.