Sabina was tired of being called a witch. Sure, she didn’t choose to immediately marry. But that was only because she would die rather than marry any of the dimwits from the village. One of the lads even threatened her, said she would be burned by next week if she didn’t marry him, a real charmer he was. Just because she held off on marriage and lived by herself in the woods she was a witch? The men were most likely jealous that they couldn’t hunt half as well as her.
Sabina’s musings were interrupted by abrupt knocks on her door. Oh gods… Did the men come to complain again? She yanked her cleaver from a recently hunt carcass and stormed to the door. Sabina pulled the door open with such fury the walls of the cabin shook. It was one thing to publicly denounce her in the market, but harassing her during the night?
“What! Come to laugh at the witch-
A young priest robed in the finest cloth she had ever laid eyes upon stood outside. His fair skin and wheat blond hair, hallmarks of a Vantis noble, signified he was of finer breeding. His features oddly made her feel self conscious about her own dark, tanned skin and her thick black curls.
“Good day… May my companion and I take refuge from the rain in your abode?”
Good lord, even his way of talking was fancy. She knew that inviting him in would probably lead to trouble but she couldn’t just reject a priest at her doorstep. Wait? Companion… Upon close inspection she noticed a knight cloaked in a dark, fur mantle. Just the mantle itself would probably cost her an entire decade’s worth of savings. Not to mention the exquisitely engraved armor he donned. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed the sword by his waist. The priest’s words brought her back to reality.
“You have no reason to fear us, we simply require shelter. We will compensate you accordingly.”
“Even more silver if you have some food for us!” The knight mirthfully chortled from behind the priest. The priest elbowed him in response. The priest’s reaction provoked a broad smile from the knight. They don’t seem like malicious people Sabina thought.
“Come in, you made it just in time for some dinner.” Sabina grinned. Although she put on a relaxed front she was quite worried. Although Sabina did indeed spend most of her life alone, she was no naive girl that could be taken advantage of.
“You leave the weapons outside. You can come in for some warm food but not with that man slayer on your waist.” She said coyly. “You can hit the road if you have any problems with that… But the next village is an hour’s travel from here.”
“Well we have no choice then… Sieg, can you put your sword up? Take my dagger too.”
“Huh. A thief’s blade, that’s no weapon for a man of God to be carrying.” Sabina scoffed. “Weren’t your weapons supposed to be the Holy Scriptures? Or did I miss the part where God told all the priests to become armed militants?”
“Well I believe I’m quite unique among priests. You certainly aren’t an ordinary woman either. What’s an easterner like you doing so far west? I’m sure you’d rather live among your own people right?”
“There were… circumstances. I’ll get your food ready. You can pay however much you want.”
“Hey! We have a problem!” The knight’s voice bellowed from outside her cabin.
A mob of villagers led by a priest surrounded her cabin. It used to be that she would never get any visitors she dryly thought. The “visitors” were most likely up to no good judging from their torches and pitchforks. One of the villagers even carried a spear she bemusedly thought. Perhaps she really would meet her end today like the boor had said last week.
“Come out Sabina and repent. The good villagers of Lint have informed me of your sin.” The lead priest sneered. “But don’t worry… We’ll burn the witch right out of you.”
“You wouldn’t know sin if it crawled right up your ass!” She countered snappily. “Why don’t you do me a favor and piss off!”
“Nay, I’m staying right here until I see your bloody ashes.”
“I’m sure your God loves watching you burn little girls. Must make you feel real good doesn’t it?”
“I work in the light of God himself, and he wants you to burn.” He paused momentarily. “Yeah… and as a matter of fact it does.”
“Hold up!” The young priest shouted from the threshold of her cabin. “You can’t just burn girls… You need a trial for that.”
So the priest has finally showed his true colors she mused. It appears that she really would burn today. If the afterlife really exists she swore to haunt the blond priest and the village idiot who reported her.
“I’m a priest… I can just hold it myself, don’t but in kid.” The older priest sneered. “A greenhorn like you can’t identify a witch. Just leave it to your seniors.”
“Well you can’t burn a witch without an inquisitor, I happen to be one. She gets a trial, or are you defying the higher power… priest?”
Were the men really fighting over who got to burn her? The stupidity of men in power never ceased to amaze her.
“So how will you conduct this trial? Shall we stuff her in a barrel and stab her? Perhaps see if she drowns in water like a mortal?” The older priest sneered. “Or perhaps you’ve fell to the witch’s seduction young priest?”
“Send your witnesses forward.” The blond priest answered, unaffected by the priest’s taunts. “Have some class. You can’t just burn women without evidence.”
“John!” The priest shrilled. “Get out here and tell the inquisitor about yesterday, and how the bitch cut you!”
Oh balls. Sabina recognized the dimwit that the priest pulled from the crowd. John was the amalgamation of all the worst possible traits a man could have. Sabina was sure he was dropped one too many few times as an infant.
“Hey John… How’s your night been? Your finger any better?” She gingerly asked. “I wasn’t aiming for your finger on purpose. I swear.”
“Don’t worry honey, ya gone and chopped the whole damn thing off.” He said, his words seeped in bitterness. “You see… ya chopped off me finger, so I’m gonna watch you burn up on that stake.”
“Hardly fair in my opinion, it’s not like you ever used it. I’ve never seen you work a day in your life. Hasn’t been a single moment when you weren’t drinking or courting a sheep.”
“What!” He roared. “I don’t sleep with sheep, take that back you wrench!”
“Calm down everyone. Tell me your story John. Why did she cut you?”
“Err… Well me and me mates were drinking down at Betsy’s tap house. When that witch gone and lost it. She just swung that huntin knife of hers and cut me finger straight off. Hurt like hell that did.”
“So she just swung her knife out of nowhere? No stimuli involved.”
“Well I don’t know what this stimuli is, but me mate Jeff dared me to cop a feel on that wench. Course I gots the courage of a dragon I just went and squeezed the damn thing.”
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“What thing?” The young priest asked curiously.
“Yeah I cut your bloody finger off! Maybe you should just keep your hands to yourself next time. Then you won’t have to lose anymore fingers you retard!” Sabine retorted.
“What thing? What did he touch?” It was obvious the young priest was still uneducated on… certain matters.
“Let’s move on.” The knight interrupted hastily seeing his young charges obvious confusion. “You can’t just humiliate a woman and not expect any retribution.”
“Ah yes! She’s not guilty, which means you won’t be burning anyone today.” The priest concluded.
It was an unexpected twist but a welcome one. Dying at but a mere twenty years of age would be unfortunate, especially by flames. However a matter still concerned her deeply. When the young priest leaves there would be no guarantee that mob wouldn’t burn her. Although there was no particular attachment to her cabin, it still saddened her to be on the move again.
“We can’t accept that. It appears that the witch has corrupted your heat. She will burn, and then you will be freed of her influence. You’ll thank me later.”
Why was the priest so dead set on burning her? It made no sense, doesn’t he have better things to do like extorting money from the villagers.
“The inquisitor said I’m innocent, leave me alone you old coot.” She sneered.
“I can’t accept that.” He whispered.
Was he demented or something, even the villagers had started to notice that the priest was acting oddly.
“No… no, she must die. Yes! She must die and my sins will be forgiven. Yes this is a mission from the Holiness himself. She must die!”
“Father Lorenz, Losing me finger ain’t all that bad. Least I still got nine others.” Even John seemed reluctant to pursue the matter any further.
“Stand down priest. Inquisitor Volta has made his judgment. Failure to comply will be seen as insubordination.” The knight warned. “Calm yourself, you seem a little unhinged.”
“Yes. You’re right. I’m calm now. Let me-
The priest rushed forward, a gleaming knife hidden underneath his long sleeves. Surprisingly it was John who was the first to try to stop the old priest. The mad priest swung wildly at John’s outstretched hands.
John let loose a hoarse shriek as he slumped over clutching his… eight fingers. The knight reached for his waist forgetting momentarily that he stored his sword in the cart. Sabine slipped away back to her cabin while the men fought outside. Her bow and quiver was right where she always left it, just above the cabins door.
She nocked an arrow and drew back the string with dexterity born from her years of hunting. A single arrow was probably all it would take to put the priest to the ground.
“Calm yourself!” The knight shouted, it was too no avail. The priest erratically swung his knife at the knight.
“ARRRGHHHH!” The priest slumped to the ground clutching his arm.
“Ma- my… m- My arm! Father Lorenz shrieked.
The mob trembled at the sight of Sabina and her bow. The villagers were no strangers to Sabina’s skill in archery.
“Help… the village… bandits…” A villager ran through the crowd huffing and panting. Arrows could be seen protruding from his back. It likely took the last vestiges of his life in order to warn the mob.
“Sieg! The wagon! We’re leaving now!” The young priest hollered to his knight. The knight stared reluctantly at the panicking villagers.
Nevertheless he still followed the young priest’s orders. He bolted to the side of her cabin, likely where the wagon had been stored. Sabina ran back inside the cabin to gather her belongings. She pulled her life savings underneath her bed. A pouch of silver coins she had accumulated over the years.
By the time she had gathered the essentials the mob had dispersed. Likely fleeing the area from fear or returning to the village for their families. Not that it mattered to Sabina. She was not so naive as to show sympathy for the people that tried to burn her.
“Hey priest! I’m coming with you!” Sabina exclaimed to the priest. He hesitated momentarily before nodding in affirmation.
Screams could be heard from the village. Thick smoke had started to rise from its directions. The bandits had most likely started killing and looting by now. With her bow and quiver slung over her coat, she jumped onto the wagon bed.
The knight took the reins. He urged the horse into a gallop. Luckily her cabin had been situated right next to the main road. It didn’t take much time before they left the burning village far behind them. The light of the full moon illuminated the road. They would have no problems with the dark tonight.
“I’m sorry Sieg. We couldn’t have done anything to help.” The young priest muttered to the knight.
“Don’t worry about it. We had no other choice. I don’t blame you for anything.” The priest smiled weakly in response.
“Not to interrupt the moment.” She interjected gingerly. “I should at least know your names right? After all we’re travelling together now.”
“No one said anything about you traveling with us.” The young priest said coolly. “But if you must know. I’m inquisitor Volta, the knight traveling with me is Emery Sieghart.”
“We’re traveling to Monroe’s fiefdom. You can accompany us until-
“Sorry to interrupt again but it looks like we have some company.”
Riders with steel helms chased after the wagon. Their steel helms gleamed sinisterly in the dark. Sabina let loose a few arrows as warning shots to the oddly well equipped bandits. The arrows did not deter them. They closed in onto the wagon, their sabers at the ready.
“Piss off!” She hollered. She opted that the time for warning shots were over. She let loose a barrage of arrows with ruthless efficiency. An arrow managed to find its way to one of the rider’s legs. He tumbled from his horse, shrieking and cursing. The other riders slowed their horses to create more distance. It was safe to say that her skill had unnerved them.
“Nice work!” The knight hollered from the seat. “The horse can’t keep this up any longer. Shoot some more!”
Easier said than done she complained in her mind. It was hard shooting moving riders, even harder shooting on a fast moving wagon. Her quiver was running dangerously low on arrows. She couldn’t keep up shooting wildly any longer.
Two out of the three riders were left. She had four arrows left to take them down. She saw a sack besides her on the wagon bed. The priest noticed her gaze on the bag. He opened it with an impish smile, an expression she had never seen before on a priest. A small staff adorned with metal was pulled out. How could a stick help them? Was it a magic one that could conjure spells? He carefully pointed the staff at the lead rider. BOOM, thunder that shook her to the core erupted from the staff. The rider was flung backwards off his horse. The last veered to the side in fear, she couldn’t blame him after seeing how his fellow bandit was flung apart by magic.
“What… is that thing?” Sabina gingerly asked. “Or is it some sort of church artifact from the days of old?”
“No.” The priest childishly grinned. Like a child showing off his new toy. “It’s a new type of weapon from the far east. This is probably one of the few models left in the west.”
“Wait there used to be other… fire spewing sticks?” She asked, her curiosity growing. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
“Of course not, the Pope and his all knowing council banned the import of firearms.” He sneered, making no attempt to hide his contempt. She had never seen a member of the church, especially a high ranking inquisitor, ever insult the Church.
“Anyway enough questions about the firearms, I’m curious about your background. What’s an easterner doing so far from her homeland?”
“Well you’re only half right. I’m only half eastern. My father was a traveling merchant who had a brief stint with my mother. The tribe shunned my mother and I, we lived in a tent far apart from the main tribe. Which is why we were spared when bandits attacked our tribe, they killed the men and hauled the children and women off. I left the eastern plains after my mother died. Eventually I made my way west, I’ve been traveling all around Vantis since then.”
“Well you’ve had quite an eventful life. Aren’t you sick of traveling?” The knight asked from the front. “I’m sure it can’t be easy for a lone woman to travel the continent.”
“There have been times when I’ve been offered a home, but in the end the life of a vagabond has always suited me best. I’m sure you’ve also had an eventful life.”
“Well I was formerly a merchant affiliated with the Gale Trade Guild. I earned my squi- knighthood by fighting some bandits who were terrorizing a village. I don’t have many tales about war and knighthood, but I do have plenty of trade stories.”
It was obvious that the knight had neglected some parts his past, but she was satisfied with still his story. It showed that Emery trusted Sabina to a modest degree, she was still flattered nevertheless. Emery told her tales from his days as a merchant. Even the usually reserved priest was engrossed in Emery’s storytelling. He told them tales of long deceased saints and heroes he had heard about on his journeys. He also told them about his own perilous travels fraught with the dangers that accompanied trading, running from wolves in the wilderness, evading dissolute mercenaries and brigands who had no qualms about killing and looting from merchants.
They started swapping their own stories acquired from their travels. Volta knew a great deal about foreign continents that Sabina had not even known existed. Emery’s trading tales had a great range of emotions. They felt his sorrow when he spoke about a friend who had been murdered by bandits, felt his bewilderment when tasting a pepper fruit from the far west, his joy when discovering a fellow merchant from Vantis in foreign lands. Sabina’s tales of eastern folklore told by her mother fascinated the priest and knight. Volta was especially engrossed, like a curious schoolboy he asked frequently about the eastern deities. It was a curious, almost childish like questions not like the harsh interrogation of most priests.
Forgetting the mortal peril they were in but an hour ago, they continued to tell tales, some getting more wild and unbelievable by the minute. And so the trio continued to bond over their experiences under the luminous moon.