The Lady Katherine Chronicles, Number 10
Lady Katherine And The Ultimate Sacrifice
By Sazzy
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Codes: |
uber J/7 |
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Rating : |
NC-17 |
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Setting: |
November 1191, Nottinghamshire, England |
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Thanks: |
MercyCroft and Jay
for beta reading this for me :) A special thanks to Mercy for that extra little bit of supernatural inspiration ;) |
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Disclaimer: |
This is a work of fan fiction but uses characters that bear a striking resemblance to those that are copyright of Paramount Pictures. No infringement on their copyright is intended by the author in any way, shape or form - this is just a bit of fun. This story includes an all female relationship, so if you don’t like that then look away now. |
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The chill November air clawed at the face of Lady Katherine Johnson as she was jarred in her saddle, bounced around by the trotting gait of her horse. The iciness stung her eyes, but she forced them open wide, wanting to feel the pain, wanting to feel anything. Yet she couldn’t. Like the air, her heart was cold, numbed by the events she’d witnessed earlier that day.
She forced herself to relive them now, playing them over in her mind time and time again, as if they might make more sense with each retelling.
Again and again she watched as Anne thrust her sword through Mark’s body, crowing gleefully as he fell to the ground at her feet. Again and again she saw the hard, unfeeling look in Anne’s eyes as Katherine told her Mark was dead. Again and again she felt her own heart breaking inside. It was a never-ending torment that only left despair and questions in its wake.
How could Anne do that? Why would she do that? Had Katherine misjudged her completely? Would Katherine ever see her again?
The last question was the real cause of her desolation. Of course she was upset about Mark’s death – you didn’t spend seventeen years of your life with someone and not still care for them in some way. However, she couldn’t avoid the fact that what she was more upset about was the death of her relationship with Anne. Despite the way Anne had been acting the past week the thought that she might never see the young woman again stabbed through her heart as swiftly as Anne’s sword had through Mark.
So she could feel something after all then, she pondered glumly, even if it was heart-wrenching sorrow.
Her mood was matched by the countryside they were crossing on the way back to Markham – bleak, desolate, and barren of life in the fading winter sun. Katherine could almost weep with the irony of her journey. Here she was on the way to resume her position as head of the manor and all she could think about was the part of her she’d left behind in the forest.
As they passed on through the village and up to the manor house, Katherine felt none of the usual warmth and feeling of home that such a path would evoke. Where once the walls of the manor had seemed welcoming, now they appeared dark and foreboding. None of this seemed like home any more.
Her party trotted into the courtyard and up to the front of the house. Katherine noticed a few startled looks from the peasants that were out working in the yard and a small crowd had gathered by the time she clambered down from her mount. They seemed too stunned to say anything though, especially as it wasn’t respectful for a peasant to speak to a noble without being spoken to first. They just watched silently as Mark’s body was taken from the back of one of the horses, having been wrapped in the cloaks of a couple of the guards for his final journey home. Katherine couldn’t bring herself to look in that direction.
Dazedly she made her way through the large oak door to the great hall of the house, where finally a voice broke the oppressive quiet.
“What the hell is going on? What are you doing back here? Where’s Mark?”
The furious stream of questions came from Charles Kirby who was hurrying across the wooden floor towards her. Fortunately Tobias was right behind Katherine and he stepped round to fend off the knight.
“His lordship is dead,” Tobias informed the other man starkly.
Kirby looked thunderstruck, the tattoo above his left eye crinkling in confusion. “Dead? But how? Was this your doing?”
He was looking angrily at Katherine now, but she glanced down to the floor – she really wasn’t in the mood to face anyone right now, let alone Kirby.
“I do not believe that is an appropriate way to address her ladyship,” Tobias continued on her behalf.
“Her ladyship?” he repeated incredulously, “But she’s been living with outlaws! She gave up all right to be called that!”
“I thought she was convalescing from illness at her sister’s? At least that’s what his lordship said,” commented Tobias evenly, though of course he knew full well that it wasn’t true.
Kirby opened and closed his mouth a few times, some frustrated noises emanating from it since he knew he couldn’t say anything lest he wanted to claim that Mark was a liar.
“Ho, very clever,” he finally said scathingly, still directing his comments at Katherine, “Kill off the husband and it’s all yours again!”
Katherine had had enough of the irritating Kirby and gently pushed Tobias to one side so she could face him one on one. Taking a step closer to him, she titled her head up and fixed him with a dark look. “How dare you insinuate that I would kill Mark in order to claim Markham as mine,” she said, her voice low and menacing.
“I’m only stating the truth.”
“The truth?” she shot back, “You wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you on the backside.”
“I know enough. I know that you’ve been running around associating yourself with outlaws, I’m sure they know a few good ways to kill someone.”
“As Tobias said,” she continued in a softly menacing tone, “I have been at my sister’s the last three months.”
Katherine actually found herself relishing this opportunity to spar with Kirby. At least it served as a distraction from more distressing thoughts, and it was somewhere where she was on familiar territory.
“We both know that’s not true!” cried Kirby, his frustration growing.
“Do we? As far as everyone is concerned I’ve been ill for months and now my husband has been brutally murdered. Do you really want to question the word of the late lord of the manor and his grieving widow?”
Kirby huffed and puffed for a few more moments, but he knew as well as she did how hopeless it was.
“Now,” added Katherine, “I suggest you leave before I do something unladylike.”
Kirby had one last go at rescuing something from the situation. “Even if you didn’t do it, I bet that little tart of yours would!”
All Katherine’s anger shot back to the surface in that moment. Her fingers balled into a fist and she punched Kirby resoundingly in the face. She watched in satisfaction as he tumbled backwards onto the floor, clutching at his jaw.
“Now get out!” yelled Katherine as she stood looming over him, “I don’t ever want to see you round here again, either the house or the estate. If you do show your face then I shall have you arrested and thrown in a dank dungeon for a very long time.”
Kirby stumbled to his feet, grumbling under his breath the whole time and still rubbing his jaw.
“And don’t go spreading rumours about me or anyone I associate myself with,” Katherine instructed him, “Or you’ll make yourself look an even bigger fool than you do already.”
Kirby made for the door, pausing in the doorway to fire one last parting shot. “This isn’t over, I’ll get you back for this!” he stated before slamming the door behind him.
…….
At the same time, somewhere deep inside of Sherwood Forest, Anne sat amongst the trees, toying with some loose stones as she watched the wildlife scurrying through the undergrowth. At least, it was the body of Anne that sat there. However, her mind lay deep within, pushed away from conscious control of her own body by the dark witch, Bronwyn.
It was Bronwyn who picked up a stone and weighed it in her hand. It was Bronwyn who watched the squirrel gathering the last of its provisions for winter. It was Bronwyn who hurled the stone at the small animal and let out a satisfied grunt when it hit its target.
All Anne did was watch numbly. She still couldn’t get the images of what had happened earlier out of her mind. Mark’s eyes when the sword had penetrated his stomach would haunt her forever. She had killed people before, but there had always been some sort of justification, at least in her mind. To watch someone dying right in front of you at your hand when you were powerless to stop it was something else altogether. Feelings of guilt swept through her as she wondered if she could have actually done something to stop it, prevented Bronwyn in some way.
And then there was Katherine. Anne’s soul ached to see the other woman, to try and explain what had happened. Katherine had looked so utterly mortified as Mark had died before her, and the subsequent horrified look she had given Anne had chilled the young woman to the core. Anne wanted to scream out that it wasn’t her that had killed him, that it was Bronwyn. Yet it was hopeless – her lips were not her own.
Are you just going to sit there all afternoon, moping?
Bronwyn was speaking to Anne in her mind.
There’s no point thinking about Katherine anymore, she’s long gone, back to the manor. She’s probably forgotten about you already.
Anne didn’t reply, though it seemed Bronwyn had been reading her thoughts again so she really didn’t need to. With her despair it was getting harder and harder to hold Bronwyn at bay from the deeper recesses of her mind. As the days had progressed since Bronwyn’s assault, Anne had felt her mental strength faltering as it was, without this added torment to weaken her fortitude. Anne suspected that it was part of the spell that Bronwyn would eventually take over completely and Anne’s personality, soul and spirit would be gone forever.
Anne had started out so defiantly, determined to do whatever she could to thwart Bronwyn, but now she wondered if there was in fact any point in continuing to battle on – maybe she should just give in and give her whole mind and consciousness over to the other woman. At least she might find some peace for her broken heart in the oblivion that lay there.
But at the same time there was still a small part of her telling her to hold on, to fight the witch to the bitter end. Anne didn’t know what Bronwyn’s grand plan was yet, only that it was to be resolved come the eclipse in three days time. However, she knew enough about the witch to assume that whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be beneficial to anyone but the witch herself. People would no doubt be in danger - people like Katherine. That thought galvanised Anne. It was up to her to try and stop Bronwyn harnessing Anne’s pagan abilities to accomplish whatever evil plans she had. At the same time Anne hoped against hope that if she could just hold on then maybe Katherine would finally discover what had happened. Maybe after reflection she would realise something was terribly wrong with Anne. Maybe Anne could communicate with her in some way to let her know.
I don’t know why you insist on holding out hope, I’m
telling you she won’t be thinking about you, she’ll be thinking about her
precious manor.
Anne had finally had enough, gathering the last of her willpower. You don’t know Katherine at all – she loves me, she’ll rescue me!
Even after this?
I doubt it. As far as she’s
concerned you’re just a cold-hearted murderer.
No, you’re wrong.
Bronwyn made an annoyed sigh. All right, we’ll find out shall we? I can see you’re not going to give in until she tells you herself, so we’ll just have to go see her won’t we.
As Bronwyn clambered up off the ground and started heading for Markham, Anne felt both hopeful and anxious in equal measure. She knew she had to try and hang on that bit longer and then make one supreme effort to do something, anything when she saw Katherine.
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Anne watched through her own eyes in confusion as she tried to recall how she came to be standing by the large tree on the bank of the River Meden. From the height and position of the sun she could tell it was mid-morning, yet the last thing she could remember was going to sleep in her hut the night before. Before that Bronwyn had snuck into Markham Church to see Friar Tuck in order to get him to arrange a meeting with Katherine. There were far too many guards around the house itself after the lord’s murder for Bronwyn to be able to risk attempting to see Katherine there.
With no small alarm, Anne realised that her mind must have become so weak that her consciousness was now being overpowered altogether by Bronwyn’s during certain periods. That meant she was also running out of time to do something. Anne knew she had to try and concentrate, gather her strength.
Searching for something to hold on to, she thought of Katherine and their clandestine meeting back in the spring, by the very tree she now stood by. It hadn’t been long after they had first met. Unlike the biting cold of the present, it had been a warm day then, and Anne’s heart was equally filled with warmth now as she remembered surprising Katherine and causing her to fall in the water. The indignant look on her face as she surfaced wet and bedraggled had only caused Anne to laugh harder. Of course Anne had subsequently been dragged in too, and as she thought of it now she could almost feel the warm rays of sun on her skin as they both lay on the grass drying themselves off.
Anne’s pleasant thoughts were rudely interrupted. You’re back then? I thought perhaps you were gone for good and there was no need for this.
No, I’m still here.
I don’t care what it takes; somehow I’ll stop you.
Brave, but ultimately foolish words. You’ll soon see what Katherine really thinks
of you and then we can get on with our real task.
Which is?
Ah ah. Not
yet. You’ll find out soon enough, but
first things first. I think I see a
horse on the horizon.
Anne followed Bronwyn’s gaze. She had to anyway since Bronwyn had control of her eyes. There was indeed a horse cresting the hill now, the red hair of its rider evident in the light of the late autumn sun. Anne’s heart did a small flip. She knew this was it – her last chance. At least Katherine had come, that meant there was still hope.
As the horse trotted on down towards her, Anne had never been more nervous in her life. It was clear to her that if she couldn’t do something now it would all be over, not only for her and Katherine, but also for whoever else Bronwyn had in her sights.
Katherine didn’t look at Anne as she pulled the horse up by the tree and clambered down to tether it. It was just one of the random stable horses, since Delta was still back at the outlaw camp in the forest. Katherine appeared pensive as she approached, her eyes eventually meeting Anne’s in a wary look of inquisition. Seeing the blue eyes regarding her almost undid Anne, but then she remembered what she was trying to do and started to try and force her will up, push against Bronwyn’s control. It was like there was a barrier in her mind that she was battering upon.
What are you trying to do?
Anne didn’t reply, focussing on Katherine who was looking rather confused at Anne’s continued silence.
Bronwyn laughed. Oh, you’re not trying to take control are you? Dear me, when are you going to learn that won’t work? No, you just sit back and watch the fun.
Anne was straining with all her mental might, but it wasn’t working, the barrier was impenetrable. She knew she needed something to give her that extra push, something to stoke her emotions even more. Bronwyn’s own emotions were filtering through to Anne now, the malicious intent with which she was eyeing up Katherine all too obvious. The predominant emotion Anne felt right then was fear.
If you hurt Katherine I’ll kill you! she said defiantly, trying to build up her anger if nothing else.
And how are you going to do that exactly? Don’t make threats you can’t keep. And anyway, who said anything about hurting
her?
Bronwyn took a step closer to Katherine, curving Anne’s lips into a sly grin. Katherine was too stunned to move as Bronwyn leant in and pulled her into an embrace, melding their lips together as she did.
No, stop! Bronwyn! cried Anne as she could feel Katherine struggling to break the contact. Katherine finally succeeded in getting her hands up onto Anne’s chest and pushing her away enough so that their lips were no longer touching. Bronwyn still kept her arms wrapped round the smaller woman though.
Katherine looked up at Anne in disbelief. “Anne, what in god’s name are you doing?”
“I was just giving you a welcome kiss,” Bronwyn answered, “That’s what lovers do isn’t it?”
Katherine’s looked dumbstruck for a moment before she disentangled herself completely from the arms that enfolded her. “What lovers do…?” she managed incredulously, “Anne - you killed Mark! I hardly think this is the time for kisses do you? I thought you were going to try and explain why you did it, tell me what’s been going on, not pounce on me like some lovesick teenager.”
Bronwyn slinked closer to Katherine again, her voice dropping to a feral whisper. “Do we have to talk about that? There are other things I’d much rather do.”
Anne could sense what Bronwyn was intending now, and her concentration slipped as a sickening sensation swept through her. Please, Bronwyn, she pleaded, I’ll do whatever you want, just stop this now.
It’s too late for that. You thought you could hold me back? But it’s taken most of your strength and for what? Now you’ll see what happens when you try to
resist me.
Katherine was backing away, though the huge trunk of the tree was behind her. “Yes, we have to talk about it!” she cried adamantly. She was getting angry now, after her initial shock. “For Christ’s sake, Anne, what’s gotten in to you? You’ve been behaving oddly all week, but this…I want to know what’s going on, or I’m leaving right now!”
“Don’t be like that,” said Bronwyn, softly and seductively.
Katherine had nowhere left to go and as Bronwyn moved closer her back was pressed up against the tree. To show just what her intentions were Bronwyn placed her hands on Katherine’s forearms, pinning her in place against the bark.
Katherine’s eyes were stormy as she glanced up. “Anne, I’m warning you, get off me, now!”
Katherine’s voice was defiant, but Anne could see the tinge of fear that lay behind the blue-grey eyes. Fear caused by her.
“And what are you going to do about it?” sneered Bronwyn. She pushed Anne’s body up against Katherine’s smaller frame, her leg slipping in between Katherine’s. Anne could feel the warmth of Katherine’s body, so familiar…but not like this, never like this!
Bronwyn, no! begged Anne desperately.
……
Katherine shoved against Anne with all her might, succeeding in pushing her away just enough to slip away from the tree. But Anne was quick, latching onto her arm to prevent her going far. As Katherine was spun round she never even saw the other hand until it connected with her face. A harsh backhanded slap snapped her head viciously to the side and she tumbled backwards onto the ground, partly from the shock as much as the force of it. Her hand instinctively flew up to touch her stinging cheek. She couldn’t believe it – Anne had hit her. Anne had actually hit her.
No matter how many times she repeated it she still couldn’t comprehend it. Her eyes flicked to Anne, unsure and not a little scared of what she was going to see. Of all the things she might have imagined, Anne crouched on the ground, holding her head in her hands was not one of them. Katherine could hear the low plaintive moaning coming from the young woman, and Katherine’s confusion only increased. What the hell was going on? First Anne attacked her, now she was seemingly wracked with… what? Guilt? Remorse? Pain? Suddenly Anne’s eyes shot up to her, staring wildly.
“Katherine, please…” the plea sounded like it had been wrenched from Anne’s very soul. Her hand shakily stretched out towards Katherine, though she remained hunched on the grass, gripping at her stomach with her other hand as if she was trying to hold something in.
Katherine was caught in Anne’s piercing stare, pinned in place by the power of it. She didn’t know what to do. Her mind was telling her to get out of there, get away while Anne appeared to be immobilised, but her heart was telling her something else. Despite everything she couldn’t leave Anne.
“Anne, what is it, what’s wrong?” Katherine got up onto her knees, inching closer, but staying just out of reach. She hadn’t completely forgotten what had just happened.
Anne groaned again, dipping her head as her face twisted into a pained grimace. Her outstretched hand fell to the ground, clawing at the dirt. Katherine’s heart was clutching painfully in her chest in response to Anne’s obvious distress, and she couldn’t resist the urge to go closer.
“Anne, what’s happening? Tell me!” Katherine’s hand was on the young woman’s shoulder now and she could feel the tension in it. Anne’s whole body seemed to be trembling from some almighty effort.
Anne titled her head up once more, blue eyes desperately scanning Katherine’s face. “Katherine, oh god…” she managed through clenched teeth, each word forced out, “…You have to go…”
“I don’t understand. What is it? What’s the matter?”
“Please…” begged Anne, “…before she hurts you…”
“She? Who?” asked Katherine glancing round momentarily, “There’s no one else here.”
“She’s here.” Anne stopped again to let out another gasping cry, before dragging some more words past her lips “…Bronwyn…inside me…controlling me…”
Katherine was floored. Bronwyn? She desperately struggled to comprehend what Anne was telling her. “But, how?”
“No time!” cried Anne, her voice suddenly loud, ringing out across the open ground. She took a few ragged breaths. “I can’t hold her back much longer…get away…quick…”
“I can’t leave you like this, there must be something we can do.”
“Yes, yes,” agreed Anne suddenly. Beads of sweat were breaking out on her forehead despite the chill air. “Find a way to stop her…any way…But go, now!”
Anne’s head bowed again, another grunt of effort issuing from her lips. Katherine hesitated. Should she do as Anne was asking? She just couldn’t tear herself away, though, not when Anne was in such pain.
Suddenly Anne’s hands shot up from the ground and grabbed onto Katherine’s arms, her fingers digging sharply into Katherine’s flesh. Katherine’s indecision had left her vulnerable, and Anne’s momentum as she pushed forwards was too much for her too resist. Katherine fell heavily onto her back, her breath being crushed from her body as Anne landed on top of her.
Only of course it wasn’t Anne at all, she now knew – it was Bronwyn. That was why Anne had been acting so strangely the last week - the dark witch had somehow possessed the young woman. Now everything was painfully clear – the arguments, the moods, Will, Mark – it had all been Bronwyn. That knowledge did little to comfort Katherine now as hands roughly pawed at her while she tried frantically to fight them off. She heard the rip of part of her clothing, caught in the tussle between them. Even if it was Bronwyn behind the actions, Katherine still had to look up into the face of her beloved, watch as that face contorted into a look of pure rage and hatred.
“So now you know the truth,” taunted Bronwyn, grabbing for Katherine’s flailing hands, “Little good it will do you.”
“You bitch,” shot back Katherine, “Let Anne go!” Katherine resolutely avoided looking into Anne’s eyes as she spoke, it was the only way she could keep in mind that this was Bronwyn, not Anne doing this to her.
Bronwyn tipped Anne’s head back and laughed, a nasty laugh the like of which Katherine had never heard from the young woman. If she needed any more convincing that this wasn’t Anne, then the hollowness in that evil cackle was proof enough. Just as Bronwyn’s head dipped back down, Katherine, seized her momentary opportunity, lashing out and raking her fingernails across Bronwyn’s cheek.
Bronwyn screamed, reflexively bolting upright over Katherine, her hand shooting up to cover the four gashes in her otherwise flawless skin. Katherine tried to squirm away, but Bronwyn’s still straddled her, pressing down on her torso.
Bronwyn had now recovered from her momentary shock and was glaring furiously down on the wriggling Katherine. “You bloody cow!”
Her right fist drew back ready to fly down at Katherine’s face but then it merely hovered where it was, shaking in mid-air by Bronwyn’s head. A look of confusion spread across Bronwyn’s face and her eyes swivelled to the obstinate hand, as if she couldn’t understand why it wasn’t moving. Katherine was equally confused as she watched the bizarre sight of Bronwyn reaching round and grabbing onto her own hand in an effort to move it.
Katherine suspected that Anne had somehow managed to halt that hand; that she was still furiously resisting Bronwyn in whatever way she could. Knowing this could be the last chance she got, Katherine finally prised herself free of the distracted Bronwyn. As Katherine clambered to her feet, Bronwyn shot her a sneering glance.
“Go on then, run away, coward!” she cried, still wrestling with her hand as she knelt on the floor.
The harsh words stung. Katherine desperately wanted to stay, but she knew she couldn’t do anything to help Anne here and now. She had to retreat, regroup and try and find a way to counter whatever it was Bronwyn had done.
…..
Please, go!
Anne was screaming at Katherine in her mind, wishing she could somehow make the words come past her lips. Katherine was still hovering, though, seemingly unable to turn her back on Anne. Anne didn’t know how much longer she could hold on, it was taking every ounce of her willpower to control her right hand. Gaining full control of her body before had weakened her already depleted reserves, but the threat to Katherine had been more than enough to spark another bout of resistance.
Katherine cast one final longing glance in her direction before turning and running for her horse. Having untied it she leapt on its back and galloped away. Anne watched her until she was out of site over the hill, only then relinquishing her control of the hand.
She was so tired now; all she wanted to do was drift off. She tried to hold her consciousness together as best she could against the fatigue.
See, I told you she would abandon you, Bronwyn teased.
She hasn’t abandoned me, Anne replied obstinately,
You’ll see. She’ll be back and then
she’ll stop you. She knows the truth
now.
So what? She
doesn’t know what to do about it does she?
And in three days time it won’t matter what she or anyone else knows
because they’ll all be mine.
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Thoughts of Anne preoccupied Katherine as she flew over the fields back to Markham, spurring her horse on as fast as she could. It had been terrible leaving the young woman, especially now Katherine knew what had really happened and that Anne was trapped in her own body while Bronwyn controlled her actions. A small shiver went down Katherine’s spine as she thought of it. All the previous week the evil witch had been in control of Anne, and Katherine hadn’t even realised. She berated herself for not pressing Anne on her odd behaviour sooner. Katherine had thought she was doing the right thing, leaving Anne to it and giving her some space, but all the while she was playing into the witch’s hands. How could she have been so stupid? She should have known that Anne wouldn’t change so dramatically, that she wouldn’t do those terrible things. It made her skin crawl to think of Bronwyn masquerading as Anne. It was all she could do not to wipe her mouth in disgust as she recalled how she had let the other woman kiss her. At least she could thank god that things hadn’t progressed beyond that.
It was too late for recriminations now, she told herself sternly, what she needed was action. She might have missed the obvious signs of trouble before, but she wouldn’t fail Anne again. The only problem was she knew nothing about pagan magic or how the hell Bronwyn had managed to take over Anne’s body. Which was why she needed to speak to the Friar.
Unfortunately she also had Mark’s hastily arranged funeral to contend with first. It occurred to her that she had almost completely forgotten about him in her worry over Anne, and she would quite happily forget about him now if she didn’t need to be seen to be doing the right thing. The resources available to her as lady of the manor might be crucial in her fight with Bronwyn, so she couldn’t afford to raise suspicions over her intentions. At least the funeral would be conducted by the Friar, allowing her a chance to speak to him afterwards, thus killing two birds with one stone. She made a small grimace to herself at the unfortunate terminology as she galloped on towards the manor house.
…….
Anne slowly drifted into consciousness, realising that she must have lost some time again. It was hardly surprising after the supreme effort of talking to Katherine had drained her; she only hoped she could hang on long enough. At least she had the thought that Katherine now knew what was happening to buoy her.
Anne could see that Bronwyn had brought them out into the forest, though it was an area Anne didn’t immediately recognise. The trees were densely packed and the undergrowth rose high off the ground, Bronwyn having to fight to get through it. Anne could only assume it was still the same day, though she couldn’t see the sun through the thick ceiling of green. Finally the undergrowth started to thin and they came out to a more open area, where there sat four huge standing stones. They stood at the corners of a large square of open ground, in the middle of which Anne could see a couple of figures. As they turned to regard her approach she immediately recognised the sneering face of one of them.
“Hello, Will,” said Bronwyn, coming before him, “You managed to find a suitable test subject then.”
Will was holding onto an old peasant man. He looked terrified as Will roughly grasped his arms, preventing him fleeing.
“Yeah, no one’s going to miss old Peter here,” answered Will, grinning evilly. “Everything fine with you?” he asked looking at her face curiously.
Bronwyn brought her fingers up to touch the gouges left by Katherine’s nails. “Yes, though our mutual friend tried a bout of resistance. She’s all quiet again now though.”
Aren’t you, Anne?
If Anne could have shot Bronwyn a dark look she would have done. Instead she had to settle from remaining stubbornly silent.
“Bring him over to the altar then,” Bronwyn instructed Will. As she passed the outlaw she ran the tips of Anne’s fingers seductively across his cheek. Anne suspected Bronwyn was doing it deliberately to taunt her and she could see the small gleam it brought to Will’s beady eyes. Meanwhile, all Anne wanted to do was form those fingers into a fist and punch him.
Will hauled the old man over the stone alter, the poor peasant struggling feebly and pleading with them not to hurt him the whole way. Both Will and Bronwyn ignored him as Will held the man down. Bronwyn meanwhile picked up a small implement from the end of the altar. It was slightly smaller than a dagger and had two fine points, rather than one. Bronwyn dipped the points into a jar that also sat atop the stone, the weapon coming out with green liquid dripping from it. She took the two-pronged weapon and swiftly jabbed it in the old man’s neck. He let out a howl of pain, bucking in Will’s grasp.
Anne watched, sickened, as the old man’s eyes began to glaze over. Suddenly she felt the weirdest sensation trickling through her mind. It was as if her brain was expanding with new knowledge out of nowhere. Gradually she became aware of memories and feelings that weren’t her own. They were faint at first - thoughts of a family, of children playing, of working in the fields. But the memories kept coming, a deluge now that was swamping her mind with a myriad of places she’d never been to and people she’d never met. A lifetime’s worth of hopes, fears and dreams was sweeping in on her and she could feel herself drowning under the onslaught. Desperately Anne tried to push the thoughts away.
It was already hard enough trying to maintain her sense of self while sharing her mind with Bronwyn, without having anyone else trying to encroach. However, as she concentrated Anne found she could actually subdue the new thoughts to some degree. They weren’t quite like Bronwyn’s, which dominated and were always obvious. As she gathered some sense of calm once more it was like the old man was there in the background, his mind available if necessary but otherwise dormant.
All of a sudden Bronwyn’s voice was speaking in Anne’s head, only it wasn’t directed at her. Instead the witch was ordering the old man, speaking to him via some invisible link, directly into his mind. He continued to stare blankly as Bronwyn instructed him. He was in some sort of hypnotic state, under Bronwyn’s spell and ready and willing to do her bidding.
It was now that Anne started to feel something else, other than the man’s thoughts. She felt a kind of extra energy coursing through her, causing her heart to beat just that little bit faster.
Yes, yes, you feel it too then!
Anne couldn’t deny that she could, the extra power was almost intoxicating in its potency.
And that’s just with one person under my spell. Imagine the amazing power we’ll be able to
harness as more fall under it.
Anne didn’t really understand what she meant until she saw the old man picking up an implement similar to the one Bronwyn had used on him along with a vial of the potion and disappearing off into the trees. With sickening clarity Anne realised that Bronwyn meant to cast the spell on more and more people to increase her power - but why?
I suppose it won’t hurt to tell you now, you’ll
probably sense it soon enough anyway as our minds become closer.
You’re right about
the old man, he’ll go off and infect more people, and each one of those will in
turn infect others until my spell is spreading like a plague through the
countryside. Once we have enough people
under our control we’ll be able to utilise the immense power that generates to
break down the boundaries between the mortal and spirit realms.
Stop saying ‘we’, I have no part in this!
Oh, but you do!
It’s your body that’s allowing us to collect and harness this power,
your innate mystical abilities. Of
course, it would all be for naught if it weren’t for the eclipse in two days
time. That is the final catalyst. The alignment of the moon and sun provide
the perfect disturbance in the fabric of the realms to allow us to perform our
task and open up the gateway.
And to what end are you doing this?
Once the boundaries are gone, anyone will be able to
cross the realms. And there are so many
realms you aren’t even aware of, ones with fearsome creatures and demons that
will do my bidding and allow me to conquer this world completely.
You’re mad! It’ll
never work!
Bronwyn merely laughed manically in response.
…….
Katherine carried the candle over to the window, lighting the second one that sat on the table there and setting her one down on the wooden surface. As the flames flickered on the pane, her eyes were drawn to the blackness outside and up to the stars in the night sky. Of course it should really have been a stormy night if it was to truly match how she was feeling, but she supposed darkness would have to do.
Mark’s funeral had been another unwanted trying ordeal, though her mind hadn’t really been focussed on it. The friar’s words had mainly passed her by in a daze. Luckily most people assumed her distraction was because of her grief and not because she was thinking of Anne. Afterwards, Katherine had managed to fob off most of the well-wishers to allow her to finally speak to the friar alone. Not that he’d had much good news for her.
A knock at the door broke Katherine out of her melancholy recollections and she called out to grant entry to whoever it was. She was surprised to see Beatrice standing in the doorway. Though Katherine had sent word that the young maid was welcome back at the manor, she hadn’t expected her quite so soon.
“Beatrice, it’s good to see you,” said Katherine in as warm a voice as she could muster, “Come in. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thank you, m’lady” replied the maid crossing to join her, “But more to the point, how are you?”
Katherine sighed. She supposed she could pretend she was all right or she could admit the truth. Without Anne to talk to, she guessed that Beatrice was her next best option.
“To be honest, I’ve had better days,” Katherine conceded.
“I heard about Mark, I’m sorry,” Beatrice said gently.
“You don’t know the half of it,” said Katherine ruefully, “You better take a seat.”
As they sat on the bed, Katherine launched into an explanation of all that had occurred over the past week, including her discovery that morning that Bronwyn had possessed Anne.
“Oh my god, that’s awful!” cried Beatrice, “Is there nothing you can do?”
“That’s why I needed to speak to the friar this afternoon,” Katherine outlined, “To see if he could shed any light on what happened to Anne. He knows a lot more about magic and paganism than any Christian friar really should.”
“And was he able to help?”
“Not exactly,” Katherine said ruefully shaking her head, “He didn’t know anything offhand, but he’s going to see what he can find out from his books and other sources.”
“It must be frustrating, having to wait,” said Beatrice.
Katherine exhaled slowly and rose from the bed heading back over to the window where she leaned on the stone wall that flanked it. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing on her slender shoulders and she bowed her head under the force. The flames of the candles darted randomly in the slight draft that drifted in from the cold night. How Katherine wished she could be that light and free.
“It is frustrating,” she finally said in response to Beatrice’s comment, swinging round to face the young woman again, “I just feel so powerless. I want to run out and find Anne, help her, but I just don’t know how.”
Beatrice crossed the room too, waiting for a moment when she got to Katherine before she reached out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Katherine realised why she had hesitated; servants weren’t normally allowed to touch those of a higher class without permission. However, in this case she was glad Beatrice had broken protocol. She offered the young maid a small smile to confirm this.
“I’m sure you’ll find a way,” said Beatrice confidently, “If anyone can it’s you.”
“Thank you,” replied Katherine, “I just hope you’re right.”
…….
The voices were the first thing to hit Anne. There were so many voices – talking; shouting; screaming. It was an endless tide of humanity all in her head. She fought back her panic as she struggled through the morass, striving for proper consciousness. She wondered how Bronwyn had managed to enslave so many people so quickly, before it occurred to her that she had no idea how long she had lost her grip of consciousness. Maybe she had been submerged for days? She thought that unlikely though, she wasn’t yet that weak that her periods of time loss were anything more than a few hours.
You’re right, it’s only morning, but my little minions have been busy. I should have more than enough come the eclipse in two days time.
Anne was actually grateful to hear the dark witch’s voice – it gave her something to cling on to, allowing her to haul herself above the sea of other minds drifting through her own.
You’re here just in time actually, continued Bronwyn, One of our drones is at the manor house in Markham. You might catch sight of your beloved if you’re lucky.
Anne couldn’t help the little spark of hope that shot through her, though Bronwyn laughed nastily as she too felt it. Bronwyn had closed her eyes now and she was reaching out to find the person at the house that was under her control, pick them out amongst the many others. Anne started to become aware of something akin to a dream, like she was looking through someone else’s eyes. It was indistinct and somewhat misty but she could see figures. They became clearer as the person who they were riding with got closer, though the faces still remained slightly blurred and out of focus. The voices also sounded as if they were reaching Anne’s ears through some viscous medium, muffled and slurred just a fraction. Anne could just about work out that the person was now entering the hall at Markham. Once inside, no amount of blurring could prevent Anne from recognising the face of the person who stood talking to Beatrice over by the fire. She knew every contour of that face in minute detail. Seeing Katherine, Anne longed to physically be there with her though she knew it was impossible.
……
“How are you feeling this morning?” asked Beatrice as Katherine joined her by the fire. She poked at the wood with a poker, stirring it into life to ward off the chill November air.
“Tired, drained, weary…” began Katherine, running her hand roughly through her auburn hair, “Shall I go on?”
“That good, eh?” remarked Beatrice, eyeing Katherine’s haggard appearance. “Did you get any sleep at all last night?”
“I tried but…”
“Thoughts of someone pre-occupied your mind?” Beatrice finished for her.
“Yes, I’m trying to keep busy as best I can in the daytime with manor duties, but when I’m alone at night with only my thoughts it’s hard to forget that a piece of me is missing, maybe lost forever.”
“That doesn’t sound like the normal Lady Katherine Johnson speaking. Where’s the determination? The refusal to give in?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Katherine with a long sigh, “Maybe it’s just because I have no idea where to begin. I only hope the friar has some good news soon, before the waiting drives me insane. In fact I think I’ll go and check on his progress now.”
……
Anne just had time to watch Katherine heading for the front door before the link was suddenly severed.
Oh well, there’s still time to get her later, noted Bronwyn. Our puppet will be making their way through the servants and before Katherine knows it she’ll be surrounded. Then it’s only a matter of time before she’s one of us!
Anne struggled to keep her fear from overwhelming her. If only she could warn Katherine of the impending danger in some way, but it was hard enough maintaining her own mind let alone attempting anything else that might weaken her further. She felt so helpless, just having to watch as events unfolded.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Katherine paced nervously across the floor of Markham Church, waiting for the friar to emerge. When she’d come to see the man the day before after speaking with Beatrice, he’d had to inform her that he’d made little progress. It wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear and the rest of the day had been difficult to bear, thinking of what Bronwyn might be doing to Anne while Katherine had to sit round at the manor twiddling her thumbs.
That was followed by another practically sleepless night, the bouts of wakefulness only punctuated by periods of fitful dreaming. The dreams had all had the same subject - Katherine frantically searching for and being unable to find Anne. The sickening despair of the nightmares was so potent it still haunted her now she was awake. As soon as it was light she’d come back to the church. She’d been so early she’d caught the friar unawares, and he’d disappeared to search out the texts he’d been perusing, leaving her out in the main room of the small stone building.
Katherine wandered over to the lectern, flicking distractedly through the pages of the ornately illustrated tome that sat there. It was all in Latin and she had to admit that hers was pretty rusty, since there wasn’t much call for it in everyday life. She recalled how her parents had forced her to sit through endless lessons on the subject when all she’d wanted to do was get out in the fields and play. She hadn’t quite grasped at that early age that it wasn’t the done thing for the daughter of the lord to be playing with the normal peasant children. Of course, Katherine had anyway, whenever she’d been able to sneak out.
“Having a good read?”
It was the friar, back clutching an armful of books and papers that he deposited on the altar.
“Not really,” she replied, stepping over to join him, “So what have you found out?”
“Right, I’ve been looking through all my pagan texts,” he explained, opening a few of them up, “For references to the dark witch and this sort of possession. From what I understand Bronwyn would somehow have had to lure Anne to the spirit world. Once there she would be able to effectively ride back into Anne’s body with her when she left. Since Bronwyn is much more experienced in this kind of thing, she knows how to override Anne’s control, making Anne a virtual prisoner in her own body. Though her consciousness is still in there, all she can do is watch what Bronwyn does.”
“But I have spoken to Anne herself, since it happened,” Katherine reminded him.
“Indeed, and that’s pretty remarkable from what I can gather. Being able to surface like that takes incredibly strong willpower. I’ve only found a few other examples of anyone else ever managing to circumvent this kind of control, and always it’s only temporarily. Basically what normally happens is that the dark witch takes over and the other person is lost forever. Obviously Anne is proving a more formidable opponent than perhaps Bronwyn anticipated.”
“So she might be able to fight her off completely?” Katherine wondered in hope.
The friar sucked in a slow breath pursing his lips and avoiding Katherine’s gaze.
“What?” pressed Katherine anxiously.
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
“But she managed it once,” Katherine insisted.
“And that’s partly where the problem lies. That kind of resistance doesn’t come easy, and it would have left Anne even weaker than before. We may only have a short time to save her.”
Katherine turned away from the table for a moment, her back to the friar as she took a deep breath. She wondered if they’d already wasted too much time finding out what they had. Was it already too late for Anne? Shaking her head, she pushed those thoughts away; she refused to allow herself to think like that yet.
“If Anne can’t overcome Bronwyn alone, then we’ll just have to force her out somehow,” reasoned Katherine, turning back to the friar, “There must be some way to do that at least?”
“There is,” the friar said slowly.
“Let me guess – it’s not easy.”
“Indeed it is not. Not only is it not easy, it’s also highly dangerous both to Anne and the one who attempts the spell required.”
“Well, you’d better spit it out, since we both know that one will be me.”
The friar sighed, though he must have known that Katherine would volunteer even before he outlined what was required. “The first thing we need to do is get the Stone Of Gaia,” he began, “Since none of us have natural mystical abilities, we need something that does have an innate power. The stone possesses special qualities allowing someone to draw on its powers using their emotions. To do that the emotions must be strong, not a problem in your case where Anne is concerned I’m sure.”
Katherine didn’t reply, merely staring back at him with a fiercely determined look in her eyes to show him that he was right.
“Drawing on the power of the stone the wielder can ward off the evil spirit, by saying the appropriate chant at the right time.”
Katherine nodded her understanding. “It seems you’ll be teaching me a pagan chant then.”
“There is one other thing,” the friar added, “To perform the exorcism you have to actually be physically touching Anne at the time, to allow the energy to flow through to her.”
“I see, so now we’re back to the problem of finding where they are. Have there been any clues in your books as to where the dark witch might be?”
“There have been a few references to various locations with standing stones, I’m just in the process of correlating them all, to see if there’s a pattern or if they’re all meant to be the same place.”
“Well, be quick about it, or we’ll just have to go and try and find them all,” Katherine declared. “Other than that, you think this will work? What happens to Bronwyn once we force her out? Could she just go to another body?”
“She can’t just go to any body, no. If we force her out, she’ll be automatically drawn back to her own body.”
“But once back there, she could still do something against us.”
“True, unless we find her body wherever it is and kill that. But we’d need to do it at the right moment. Too soon and she’d sense it. It needs to be just as you cast the spell.”
“And if we manage this feat of timing?”
“Then Bronwyn will be trapped in the spirit realm forever.”
Katherine nodded, trying to take in all that the friar had told her.
“You don’t have to do this you know,” the friar said slowly as she pondered, “This is just how the dark witch sometimes passes from host to host. We could always let her.”
“What?” cried Katherine furiously, “We could just let her have Anne? I can’t believe you’re even suggesting it!”
“I’m just being Devil’s Advocate, no pun intended” he tried to explain, “From our point of view there’s no difference between Bronwyn in her old body and Bronwyn in Anne’s body, the threat is still the same. But if you do this, you’ll be risking your life too, on a very slender chance.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take!” stated Katherine adamantly.
“I don’t think you realise how dangerous this is, the power from the stone is unstable, especially in the hands of a novice. It could turn back in on you; destroy you. Or it could drain you completely – you might end up saving Anne at the cost of your own life.”
Katherine focussed her gaze on the friar so he would understand that she meant every word of what she was about to say. “If it’s the only way, then I will sacrifice myself to save her.”
……………..
A short time later Katherine entered the hall of the manor house with the friar’s words still rattling around in her brain. Though he wasn’t pleased about it, she still wasn’t going to be deflected from her course - if it came down to it she would gladly surrender herself if it meant Anne could live. Now all that remained was to find Anne.
In her distraction it took her a few seconds to notice that something was amiss in the cavernous room. She was already halfway to the stairs when she suddenly realised that the hall was deserted. She glanced round the empty room in confusion, wondering where all the peasants that usually congregated there were. It was highly unusual for there to be no one around. Normally she would be tripping over the people just to get across the room, since many of them slept in there too.
Katherine decided to investigate the other rooms, opening the door to the kitchen to find a similar story. There wasn’t a soul in the normally bustling room. Katherine took a few steps inside to check, getting increasingly worried. At the far end of the room the large fire was lit as always and a pot sat suspended above it, bubbling away. That made Katherine think that someone had at least been there recently.
As she turned back to the door for the hall she caught a flash of metal out of the corner of her eye. Katherine leant back at the last second as the blade of a cleaver whizzed by a hair’s breadth from her nose. She didn’t have time to think as it flew immediately back at her again, wielded, she could now see, by the head cook.
“What the hell are you doing?” she exclaimed, dodging the latest swipe.
He didn’t reply, continuing his furious attack mutely instead. Though his swipes were vicious, they were also erratic. Katherine managed to stumble backwards down the room as he came at her, swinging wildly. She knew she had criticised the cook’s dishes in the past but she didn’t think it quite justified a physical attack.
Her hands searched out something to defend herself with as she kept her eyes on his flashing blade. She grabbed various items off the kitchen table, flinging them at him in a futile attempt to stall his progress. Half a cabbage, a small copper pot and a handful of wheat all flew in his direction to be batted away.
Then there was no more table to search and just the warmth of the fire behind her, licking at her backside. She just managed to duck under another violent swipe when she saw it. The poker. Quickly grabbing it she bought the metal rod round and down onto the cook’s hands, knocking the cleaver from them. He looked infuriated as his weapon clattered onto the flagstones, snarling up at her. It seemed that was the only communication he was willing or able to offer though. It was then she noticed his eyes. They were glazed over, not really looking at her at all.
Unperturbed at having lost the cleaver, the cook launched himself bodily at Katherine. She felt a small pang of guilt as she bashed him over the head with the poker, but it was obvious he wasn’t himself. As he and the poker crashed to the floor she was suddenly reminded of the similarity with Anne’s situation, making her wonder if there was some connection. Could Bronwyn be responsible for this too?
Stepping over his prone form she hurried back out into the hall, hoping the cook was the only one affected by the strange malady. She got an answer to her question much sooner than she was expecting. Two peasants stood facing her, the same vacant look on their faces as had been on the cook’s. Katherine put up her hands as they moved towards her menacingly.
“Now, now, there’s no need for violence.”
While backing up she cursed herself for not bringing the poker with her. Before she could berate herself further she suddenly found herself on the floor, her head ringing from the blow she had received to the back of it. Whirling round she saw there was a third peasant, a woman holding a lump of firewood. Then she noticed a fourth and a fifth emerging from the shadows, all heading inexorably in her direction. They had her surrounded and she had no weapon. Clambering to her feet she took up a stance to defend herself as best she could with her bare hands.
The nearest man lunged for her but luckily his attack was as uncoordinated as the cook’s had been. Katherine deftly sidestepped and managed to trip him in the process. However, now the rest were upon her en masse. Two of them grabbed her flailing arms as she desperately tried to hold them off. Meanwhile one of the women was in front of her brandishing a sharp object, bringing it towards Katherine’s neck. Katherine tried to kick out at the woman, but one of the men restraining her brought his own foot into the back of her standing leg. Katherine cried out at the jolt of pain as the limb gave way beneath her. The men held her roughly up as the woman kept coming. Katherine struggled, but she couldn’t shake their grip.
When the woman was only feet away, Katherine watched in surprise as her fingers suddenly dropped the implement, going slack as she pitched forwards, landing face first on the floor with a resounding thump. In the space where she had been standing was Beatrice with a ceramic chamber pot. It appeared that the possessed peasants weren’t the only ones capable of using household objects as weapons. The second woman leapt at the young maid, knocking her to the floor where they rolled around, tussling for supremacy. Meanwhile the two men still held Katherine fast, though neither made a move to pick up the two-pointed weapon that sat invitingly right in front of them.
Katherine could only watch as Beatrice battled with the large peasant woman, the other woman’s bulk eventually telling as she managed to get on top and pin Beatrice’s arms with her knees. She had also managed to wrestle the pot from Beatrice and raised it now, to smash it down on Beatrice’s face. Beatrice’s dark eyes looked up in horror at the heavy object.
Suddenly a whistling noise shot through the room, followed by the telltale thud of an arrow striking flesh. The bolt had lodged itself in the peasant woman’s shoulder and the pot tumbled from her grasp as she too slumped to the floor. Katherine’s eyes shot to the front door to see Tobias and Thomas there, the young guard holding the crossbow that had loosed the arrow. Tobias drew his sword, advancing on the remaining men as Thomas checked on Beatrice.
“Let her ladyship go now, or I will be forced to make you,” he instructed the men.
If they heard or understood his words they gave no indication, their grip still painfully tight on Katherine’s arms. Tobias glanced at her, seeking permission to use force against them. Katherine knew they weren’t in control of their actions, yet at the same time she could see no other way out of the situation. Regretfully she nodded her head.
Tobias was lightning quick, disabling both men with a couple of swift slashes of his blade. Thankfully they were only wounded, rather than dead, though Katherine didn’t know how long they would be able to continue to use such restraint in the face of an enemy that couldn’t see reason.
“Thank you, Tobias,” said Katherine, rubbing at the back of her knee where the man had kicked her. “Do you know what’s happening to everyone?”
“No,” he replied, “Though I believe it may have something to do with this,” he added kneeling down to pick up the double-spiked weapon.
Katherine took it from him, careful to avoid the sharp points. Inspecting it up close she could see what looked like some kind of green liquid on the tips.
“Some sort of potion?” she offered, showing Tobias what she meant.
His dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he studied it. “It would appear so,” he agreed.
“Mmm, and I know one person in particular with an interest in potions.”
“Bronwyn.”
“Yes. Somehow I suspect this is connected to what’s happened to Anne. That makes it even more imperative that we find her, before the whole of Markham ends up like these poor souls.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anne’s consciousness drifted slowly up through her mind. The voices were still there, but there were so many now that they formed a constant drone, the individual thoughts indistinguishable. She had no idea how Bronwyn managed to pinpoint anyone amongst the masses. As she started to sense her body she realised that someone was touching her, their fingers stroking her shoulders, gently kneading them. Though she couldn’t turn round to look, she had little doubt that it was Will who was the owner of the massaging digits.
After a few more moments of this, during which Bronwyn made some pleased groaning noises, she eventually stood up, turning to the person behind her. Anne had guessed correctly, it was Will.
“Thank you,” said Bronwyn in a soft whisper, stroking his cheek seductively as she spoke. Anne cringed inwardly as she felt his flushed skin.
“Is there anything else you’d like me to do?” asked the man, the eagerness to please obvious in his voice. Anne knew exactly what things Will was after and almost wished she hadn’t managed to regain consciousness at this point.
Don’t be like that; Will has been very helpful. I
think it’s only fair we show him our pleasure.
Anne kept forgetting how easily Bronwyn could read her thoughts now. Bronwyn cupped Will’s face in her hands, drawing him towards her while all Anne wanted was to close her eyes and disappear back into oblivion. Unfortunately she didn’t seem to have any control over that either, and had to feel her lips meeting Will’s in a slow, lingering kiss. If she could have vomited, she would.
Eventually Bronwyn released him, Will looking as if he was adrift on a tide of pleasant thoughts.
“Now,” said Bronwyn, snapping him out of it, “It’s time for you to go off and enslave your old friends.”
It took a couple of seconds for her words to register. “You want me to go to the outlaw camp and cast the spell on Robin and the others?” he asked doubtfully.
“Yes, and I want you to retrieve the book from Anne’s hut too. I hope you don’t have a problem betraying your old allies?”
Will grinned nastily. “Absolutely not, it will be my pleasure.”
…………..
Katherine stumbled through the undergrowth trying to stop the brambles snagging on her trailing skirt. She hadn’t had time to change into something more practical before they’d had to flee the manor house. The situation was much worse than they’d initially imagined, with nearly everyone at the house seemingly under the mysterious curse.
They’d had to fight their way out past the clawing peasants, all of them intent on bringing Katherine and her companions into the folds of the enslaved army. Once out in the fields of the estate, they’d found things weren’t much better. With each village they came to it seemed that more and more people were succumbing to the curse, falling to the spell as easily as stalks of wheat, scythed down for the harvest. The spread of the spell seemed as unstoppable as the keen blade of the farmers’ tool too.
In the end Katherine’s group had decided to head into Sherwood Forest, in search of the outlaws, hoping that it hadn’t reached their camp yet. In front of Katherine, Tobias and Thomas hacked the path clear, while behind her came Beatrice and the friar, who they had managed to rescue from the church where he had barricaded himself from the crazed peasants.
“Still think we should leave Bronwyn to it?” Katherine asked the bald man, allowing him to catch her up.
“I never said we should leave her to it,” he replied, “I was merely expressing a possible alternative course of action.”
“Indeed, one that doesn’t look so clever now.” She knew was probably being a bit unfair, but she hadn’t forgotten how he had suggested abandoning Anne to Bronwyn’s tender mercies.
“All right, point taken,” he conceded. “If you’ve finished crowing, you might like to know that I managed to save my research into where Bronwyn might be, I think I’m getting close.”
“Good,” noted Katherine, thinking it was about time they had some good fortune, “When we get to the outlaw camp you can sit down and continue your search.”
“Assuming they haven’t all been assimilated by this spell.”
Katherine didn’t even want to contemplate that – they needed everyone they could get if they were going to defeat Bronwyn. It was with no small trepidation that she approached the outlaw camp, praying that they were all right still. She took the lead, since Thomas and Tobias might not be well received by the outlaws unless they realised immediately that Katherine was with them.
Stepping into the clearing in the forest, Katherine spotted Robin straight away, over by one of the fires. His eyes swivelled to her and she heaved a sigh of relief – they were still keen and alert.
He hurried over to greet them. “Katherine, it’s good to see you, we’ve been getting all sorts of strange reports about things happening outside the forest, about peasants turning on one another and talk of a strange spell.”
“All true, I’m afraid,” she confessed, “Come on, I’ll explain everything.”
Katherine and Robin took a seat by the fire, while the others stood watch. The outlaws eyed Katherine’s party suspiciously, not used to seeing soldiers in their midst, at least not live ones. Katherine filled Robin in on the dire situation, explaining how they needed to go and get the stone of Gaia and then find Anne so she could attempt to force the dark witch from her body by using its power. She didn’t tell him about the potential dangers, though it seemed he sensed she was holding something back.
“You make it sound easy,” he remarked, “Why do I think you’re not telling me the whole truth?”
“Because she isn’t!” interjected the friar who had obviously been eavesdropping. He plonked himself down next to them. “What she neglected to mention is that in all likelihood the one attempting the spell will either fail or be killed themselves.”
Robin raised his eyebrows at Katherine. “I should be the one to do this,” he stated, “Anne is my responsibility.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I have to do it.”
“No, you don’t,” cried the friar again, “Robin could do it!”
Katherine shot him a dark look, silencing him immediately. She realised he was just looking out for her, but is interruptions were starting to get annoying.
“Did you not say that the stone draws on the emotions and feelings of the wielder?” she reasoned, “Then it makes sense that the greatest chance of success is for that person to be the one who feels the strongest.”
“And who’s to say that’s you?” queried the friar. “You brought Anne up didn’t you?” he asked Robin, “You love her like a sister?”
“Yes,” responded Robin simply.
“And I know that’s true,” agreed Katherine, “I don’t mean to make light of what you feel for Anne, but I love her more than I think I can express.” She took a couple of moments to compose her thoughts before continuing. “Before I met Anne I don’t think I knew what love was. Of course I’d had feelings for people, for Mark, but nothing when compared to the all-encompassing joy of being with Anne. It’s like she fills my very soul with such wonderful feelings that I feel I could almost leave my body and fly away on their uplifting currents. It’s hard to explain, but I just know we were meant to be together, like it was fate. As soon as I met her I knew deep down that this was the one person I’d been waiting for all my life, the one person who could complete me, inspire me, love me. She means absolutely everything to me; I would give anything for her. And I know she feels the same way. If our positions were reversed I have no doubt whatsoever that she would willingly risk everything to save me, and I will do no less.” She finally stopped, partly because it was getting hard to continue past the large lump forming in her throat. She had to blink away a couple of tears too.
Robin nodded at her words. “Then you shall attempt this spell, though that doesn’t mean we won’t come with you to make sure you get there safely.”
Katherine smiled at him. “I was hoping you would.”
Katherine could see the friar sighing next to them, realising he had lost the argument, though he had the good grace not to say anything more. Instead he got out his papers, so he could get to work finding Bronwyn. Presuming that he was going to discover something soon, Katherine decided that a change of clothes was in order so she would be ready to head off as soon as he did.
She excused herself and disappeared off in the direction of Anne’s hut, noticing that Delta was still tethered outside where she had left him three days ago. She hoped the outlaws had been taking good care of him, stopping for a moment to stroke his nose reassuringly.
As she turned for the hut, Katherine found herself stopping on the threshold for a moment. It was strange, being there without Anne. Wrong somehow. The sense of loss was palpable, being in this place where they had lived together, been so happy together. Katherine had to gather herself before she ducked inside, where the reminders of the young woman were even more powerful. All her belongings were still there, just as she had left them, piled haphazardly in one corner. Katherine felt her eyes drawn to the bed in the centre of the small room where they had slept together night after night, where they had…
Katherine caught herself before her mind wandered too far. If she went down that path she knew she would find it hard to get back, more than likely being consumed by melancholy remembrance. She turned her eyes away from the bed, only to see something else that upset her just as much. She immediately knelt down on the floor, unable to hold back a few tears as she picked up the shredded pieces of the silk shirt. She bit her lip as she ran her fingers over the clean cut, trying desperately to hold back the surge of emotion. Closing her eyes, she could see Anne now – her face lit up with a huge smile as she slipped the shirt on. Katherine instinctively brought the two pieces up to her face, bringing them close to her lips and taking a deep breath through her nose. Anne’s scent was still on the material. Katherine clutched it closer to her, though it offered scant replacement for the real thing.
Trying to gather herself, she recalled what she had come to the hut for – clothes and weapons so she could go off in search of Anne. She had to try and focus on that, on the task ahead rather than wallowing in the past. She quickly changed out of her dress and into some of her other more practical clothes that were still in the hut. Somehow pulling on the outlaw’s clothes made her feel more ready for battle, a feeling reinforced as she attached the sword in its scabbard to her belt. She was just tying the leather laces on her boots when the door suddenly swung open. Katherine shot up in surprise to see Will Scarlet standing in the doorway. He looked equally dumbfounded.
“What do you think you’re doing in here?” Katherine demanded, putting her hands on her hips.
He didn’t reply; his eyes darting round the room searching out something instead. Katherine stepped towards him. “I said,” she reiterated as she blocked his view of the interior with the body, “What are you doing in here?”
His eyes flicked to her in annoyance before he suddenly shoved her roughly to the side. Caught off-guard, Katherine stumbled away, while Will grabbed the book that was sitting on top of the bedclothes in the centre of the room. Katherine recognised it as the one she had brought back from Loughborough on Anne’s behalf.
“Thanks!” he said with a nasty little smile as he ran out the door.
Katherine snatched up her bow and arrows and dashed from the hut after him. Glancing frantically around the clearing, she spotted Will already at the treeline, disappearing amongst the trunks. She sprinted after him, desperate not to lose him in the gloomy forest. It seemed obvious that he had come to get the pagan book for a reason. It was too much of a coincidence for that not to be related to Anne and Bronwyn.
Katherine leapt through the undergrowth of the forest, keeping her eyes on Will’s back the whole time. She ignored the brambles and branches that tugged at her, trying to slow her down. They were inconsequential to her in her determination to catch him.
Only she realised with a sinking sensation that she wasn’t going to. Stopping instead she notched an arrow in her bow, knowing she most likely only had one shot before he got too far away and the trees obscured him. Trying to calm her breathing as best she could she sighted him along the shaft of the arrow. Her hand was shaking, and she closed her eyes for a second, taking one more deep breath. She could feel a single bead of seat tracking down her forehead. Then her eyes flew open and the arrow shot from her grasp. It swept soundlessly through the trees before burying itself in the back of Will’s thigh.
His scream was audible even at Katherine’s distance, and she could see him crashing to the ground, sprawling in the dirt. Katherine ran the remaining way to him, reaching his position just as he was yanking the arrow from his leg.
“You bloody bitch!” he cried seeing her, “I’ll make you pay for that!”