Eventually we had to look for a new witch to earn our living from. We found ourselves standing before of a town noticeboard in Dessau looking for any suggestions of possible witch hunts

‘We’re in luck,’ Godke said, and despite the ache in my chest I smiled. If we had not found any, we would probably have had to return to Metz and wait for word through one of Godke’s usual contacts. I was not sure that we would have been in a financially viable situation in the latter circumstance. Thankfully, I was not forced to face such a reality as help was sought in purging a witch in a nearby city called Magdeburg.

‘We can be there by sundown,’ Godke said. I was not familiar with the eastern German region in which we were located but it was scarcely midday so I trusted his judgement.

We returned to our horses and mounted them immediately, as we had nothing new to saddle them with. As we left the town, I looked back to see if Heine would try and call us back but the road out of the city was devoid of life. I had half-expected to see Jaromil watching us leave, and was relieved when I recalled that that difficult chapter of my life had come to an end at the sharp tip of Joyeuse.

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It was perhaps due to the fact that we arrived in Magdeburg mere hours after the call for assistance was sent that made it different to the other witch hunts. We passed through the city quickly as most of the citizens seemed to be gathered in the town square. We followed the sounds of the crowd to the city centre where we saw hundreds of people assembled before a wooden stage upon which stood a witch and two men. The witch had yet to be placed in irons, and for once Godke and I arrived in time to witness these events.

The Archbishop of Magdeburg, a man by the name of Christian Wilhelm of Brandenburg according to the royal announcer, was stating the evidence before the witch. Unlike any other species of legal trial, the witch trial was taking place in the city square before a huge crowd of eager spectators. I’d never seen such a big crowd before. It was clear that Christian Wilhelm intended to create a spectacle with this witch trial.

Godke and I arrived halfway through the trial after stabling our mounts. We approached through one of the gaps in the sparse but attentive crowd and that was when I saw her.

Elisabeth Roht. Or Elisabeth the witch, as she was called by the royal announcer. A biased introduction for sure, but I scarcely even noticed the continuing trial for I was so captured by her beauty. Despite the fact that her life had clearly been uprooted by her arrest, she maintained an elegant grace as she stood on the far side of the stage from Christian Wilhelm. Her silky golden hair blew in the wind and entranced me as if –

As if by means of witchcraft, I thought.

I attempted to recapture control of my senses, despite her unarguable magnetism. If I had seen her before Cologne perhaps I would have suspected that she had put a spell on me, but I knew at nineteen years of age that she was simply very beautiful.

Some sort of magistrate was reading the evidence against her and I made sure to listen. Having a list of evidence would certainly have helped earlier in the day at Dessau, after all. ‘The good farmer Brandt,’ he said, motioning to a middle-aged man surrounded by his wife and four children, ‘witnessed Elisabeth the witch walk through his property two days before today. The very next day, the Brandt’s family dog dropped dead for no apparent reason.’ The crowd jeered in response to that, but the magistrate was not done. ‘Even worse, the Brandt’s went to milk their livestock that same day and one of their beast’s milk had soured.’

The jeers increased in volume and intensity. I was again struck by Elisabeth’s poise; her ability to act as if she were unperturbed by the public hatred directed against her. She wasn’t oblivious or blind or stupid, she simply acted as if she were above such petty disputes. I felt that if she were executed, no matter how the act was carried out, she would die with more dignity than most people lived.

Elisabeth was not given a chance to speak for herself. The evidence was read and the Archbishop Christian Wilhelm stood, tidied his brown hair, and asked the farmer and his wife and four children to swear that what they said was true. They swore it and the Archbishop said that Elisabeth would be sent to the witch house until such a time as she confessed to the act of witchcraft.

I knew that she was done for. After all there had been six witnesses, even if four of them were children and all six were from the same family. Most of the time town officials made do with two or three and often those were drunkards or beggars.

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Two soldiers escorted Elisabeth the witch to the witch house. I considered following her, but I was determined not to let my conscience or my attraction to the witch affect the performance of the hunt as I had at Dessau. I doubted if Godke would abide another delay. My purse certainly wouldn’t.

We approached the Archbishop together. I noticed that he was not styled as Prince-Archbishop and I later learnt that his election as Prince had not been confirmed by the Emperor, probably because he and his townsfolk were mostly Lutheran.

‘We will force the Devil out of the witch and extract a confession,’ Godke said to the Archbishop after the initial introductions were complete. ‘For a reasonable price.’

‘You will be paid,’ he said. ‘I do not abide heretics.’

‘Then you will be satisfied by our services,’ Godke said. He was showing me how to sell ourselves to a client by behaving exactly the opposite of how I’d acted in Dessau.

‘Ensure that you seek my permission before executing the witch. It is important that the people of Magdeburg be given the opportunity to witness her execution. I should like to put posters up around the city to help with attendance.’

‘Absolutely, we’ll just extract the confession and then find you,’ Godke said. I felt that he was laying it on a bit thick but Christian Wilhelm seemed to like it.

He wished us luck and gave us the key to Elisabeth’s manacles, which we used almost immediately upon arriving at the witch house. Beforehand, however, Godke stopped me before we entered the building and spoke to me.

‘I know times have been hard,’ he said, ‘but we need to succeed here. We can’t keep going through witches without receiving any money. The reward that Christian Wilhelm offers is substantial.’

I nodded and pretended to both Godke and myself that I wouldn’t have any problems with that. In retrospect I knew that it was a promise that I had no control over: Elisabeth’s fair features only served to remind me of my wavering faith in the practice of witch hunting.

She was kneeling in prayer when we entered the witch house. When I uncuffed her she opened her eyes and smiled at me. I smiled back. Godke noticed my distractedness and began the formalities himself.

‘Do you confess to acts of witchcraft?’

Elisabeth turned to him and smiled again. ‘No,’ she said simply.

‘Will you say the Lord’s prayer?’

‘No.’

Godke drew the rosary beads once more.

‘A lovely rosary,’ she said and I was shocked by how casually she was treating the whole ordeal. If Godke had his way she’d be dead in hours and yet Elisabeth was treating the interrogation like a trip to the marketplace.

Godke passed the beads to me and I placed them over her neck. She bowed her head forward to assist and I lifted her long hair and let it fall over the rosary, cherishing its silky touch upon my fingers.

‘Karl, take her clothes and shave her,’ Godke said.

I had the razor in my coat, but I did not draw it. I wondered if Elisabeth would volunteer her own nakedness as Angelika had, but she did not. I feared that I would have to force the issue when a gust of cool air from outside coursed through the witch house. Elisabeth shivered involuntarily and the movement shook a lock of blonde hair aside to reveal a mark on the side of her neck.

‘That won’t be necessary,’ I said to Godke, thankful to God for providing me with an opportunity to hide my distaste at shaving Elisabeth. ‘The Devil’s mark.’

I pointed to what was probably a birthmark, but one of the tricks I had picked up from Thies was that you could just point to any skin blemish and claim that it was the mark of Satan as long as you said it with conviction. If you claimed that it was obviously unnatural then it was unlikely to be questioned, and Godke seemed happy enough to progress to the next stage of the interrogation.

‘Will you confess?’ Godke asked her again.

‘No.’

‘Then we will drive out the Devil with pain,’ he said.

‘You should find lodgings for the night,’ she said. ‘Magdeburg is a big city, the taverns often fill up early in the night.’

‘We will worry about our own lodgings when it is time,’ Godke said, but even as he said it we both knew that it was time to retire for the night. The light had faded from the sky and the witch house was not equipped with lanterns. The temperature was lowering rapidly and there was the threat of rain in the distant thunder. Not only that but it had already been a long day and we had enjoyed no rest since arriving in Dessau earlier in the morning.

I did not have to say anything for Godke manacled Elisabeth himself and handed me the key. We told her that we’d see her again in the morning.

‘I’ll see you then,’ she said. She was looking at me. Her body was long, almost as tall as mine, and my eyes were drawn to the smoothness of her legs and then to the paleness of her cheeks. Unlike Fleur’s freckled visage, Elisabeth’s skin was free from blemish aside from the alleged Devil’s mark. She caught me looking and I quickly turned away to join Godke.

We found shelter for the night at a tavern down the road from the witch house. A feast was prepared for us in the adjacent bar and we enjoyed it for several hours before retiring for the night. Though we talked little that evening Godke did say something which haunted me as I awaited sleep that night.

‘You must extract Elisabeth’s confession to prove to yourself that you can continue the hunt without the others.’