An eerie wailing echoed among the rocks of Kern Hill. Located a half-mile from the nearest village, this hill was the ideal location to dump unwanted newborns. Zeera, the old crone, was haunting it. The eerie wailing followed her around the towering piles of rock and deep shadows; keeping all the villagers locked in their homes from dusk until dawn. She preferred it that way.
She was late today. Zeera shifted a mammoth sized basket on her arm as she checked every inch of the hill. The air was chilly and promised an early death for any newborn left exposed.
"Imbecilic idiots without any regard for life," Zeera grumbled. Twice a day she came to gather the abandoned babies. Villagers believed she ate them. Wild animals snatched the ones she missed or left dead. Zeera fretted among the piles of memorial stones. She was late, it was cold, and the sun was nearly spent.
"Ah," she mourned. Twin girls in the open air were cold and dead already. Most of the babies were "useless" girls who could provide little wealth or labor in return for being another mouth to feed. Boys would be heirs or soldiers and help with chores - earning their right to live. "Foolishness!" Zeera cried as she found another newborn she could not save.
Her shout echoed among the rocks, eliciting the cries of one yet living. Zeera's heart lifted with some hope, but she did not rush or deviate from her path. Past experience taught her to be methodical and thorough among the rocks or she would miss a quiet babe, fail to locate one by sound, or knock over a pile of the stones... No, Zeera's path of methodical searching did not change.
The stars twinkled into sight as the last of her haunting was complete. Zeera had saved three newborns tonight; carrying them in her mammoth basket. It was time to take them to her cottage and see to their needs.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Suddenly, there was a commotion from the village. Zeera froze to watch as the scene unfolded.
A woman was screaming, crying and begging. Spilling forth from a building, she dragged the three men holding her. A fourth man held her squalling infant and marched determinedly toward Kern Hill. The woman was unable to shrug off her captors though she certainly tried. Eventually, one smacked her hard enough to cause a faint echo around Zeera. The woman fell and did not rise again.
Zeera carefully set down her basket and prepared to confront the angry villager approaching the hill. She fingered the herbs in her pockets and pulled out a short staff. Obviously, the man approaching could not see her in the shadows.
"Cursed wench! Three years worth try'na have a son! I've no time to waste on 'er. Useless waste!" The villager puffed angrily to the base of the hill, negligently tossed the still-squalling infant, and turned back the way he came.
Zeera was standing before him! He froze in sudden fear. Stories of her witch powers, evil curses, and cannabalism rushed through his mind. But he was still angry with the wench and old-crone Zeera was not enough of a threat to dampen that emotion.
"Oi you! Outta my way!"
Zeera smiled eerily and began to cackle softly. The infant was still squalling.
"You've naught to do with this!" He made as if to walk around the crone but discovered he was unable to move.
Zeera pointed her finger at him; chanting words he could not hear. The babe stopped screaming. Now the villager was frightened. He struggled to move, but in vain.
"Stop! You won't get away with this! You have no right!"
Something hit his face in the darkness. He screamed. Doors in the village opened at the sound.
"No!" He panicked. "You can't do this! Someone! Help! It's Zeera!" He screamed again, but no help was coming. All the doors in the village slammed and locked shut at her name. All fires and lights were extinguished. Everyone knew better than to cross Zeera after sundown.
The man's screams echoed around the rock piles. Eventually, they became whimpers. At the end, silence returned to Kern Hill.