Thick black clouds hung low in the sky overhead, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. Reggie glanced over his shoulder. His heart ached when he saw that several plumes of smoke were still rising to the sky from over the horizon. It had been two days since they left Four Fields. It had been the first evening since their departure. A red haze had been visible over the town, and he feared that the entire town would be reduced to ash.
“The autumn rains have arrived at last,” he remarked, knowing that no amount of worrying could affect the fate of those he had left behind, but finding himself unable to do so anyway.
Cal grunted absently. His attention was focused on the large town on both banks of a river that sat at the base of a valley up ahead. The road they were on meandered lazily down and around a gentle slope before crossing a wooden bridge that spanned the broad river that divided the town in two.
“Do you think there will be work there?” Reggie ventured.
“I hope so,” Cal replied.
Reggie blinked in surprise. This was the first time Cal had said more than two words to him since they’d left the town. The boy quickly decided that this was as good a time as any to pick the witch hunter’s brain a little.
“You know, I’ve been feeling this sense of loss since we left,” Reggie remarked, trying to sound off hand. “Like part of me is missing. I don’t think it’s just homesickness.”
Cal gave the boy a sideways glance before replying. “It’s not. You were a witch’s Chosen. Luckily, you weren’t under her power for very long. It is not uncommon for Chosen to die when their mistress does.”
Reggie swallowed. “I felt so lucky when she treated me special out of all the men and boys in town… but why single me out?”
A wry grin twisted Cal’s lips. “Witches reproduce every eight hundred and eighty months.”
The young man paused, and his grin grew broader. “Have you learned about the birds and the bees, boy?”
Reggie felt his cheeks colour but managed an indignant response. “Of course I have. Also, you’re only five years older than me, so you have no right to call me boy.”
Cal smirked. “Witches take boys and groom them to become their mates when they turn eighteen.”
Reggie’s eyes went wide. “She wanted me to father her child?”
Cal nodded. “Impregnating a witch involves more than just your seed. The act would have drained you of all your life force, killing you and leaving only a shrivelled husk behind.”
Reggie shuddered as he recalled Peggy Danton’s body, sitting listlessly in the cage. It hadn’t seemed right, leaving her there, but the cottage had already caught fire, and his mother decided that their priority should be to the living.
“Will this feeling of loss go away?” he asked.
“In time, you will make a full recovery,” Cal said and let out a melancholic sigh. “Your witch was young and therefore weak. It was probably her first mating cycle…”
Reggie frowned. “So she was eight hundred and eighty months old? That’s almost…”
“She was grooming you for when you turned eighteen. She was likely to have been around sixty nine years old,” Cal said. “Young for a witch. Scarcely an adolescent.”
Reggie nodded thoughtfully before asking. “Have you been hunting them for long?”
“For around a year,” he replied. “I’m still a novice, all things considered.”
Cal turned around and Reggie followed his gaze and saw a wagon rounding the corner behind them. It was pulled by a pair of tired, underfed horses and driven by an equally decrepit old man who looked surprised to see other travellers on the road.
“Headed to Baldrick’s Crossing?” he asked as he brought his wagon alongside the pair.
“If that’s the name of that town, then yes,” Reggie replied.
“Would you like a lift?”
“No, we’re alright,” Cal replied brusquely.
“If it’s payment you’re concerned about, you needn’t worry,” the man said as he waved his hand in front of his face. “I’ve been on the road four days now with no one to talk to but these two horses. You’d be helping me preserve my sanity.”
“Thank you but…” Cal began until he was interrupted by Reggie, who said cheerfully. “A lift would be lovely, thank you.”
Reggie was already clambering onto the wagon before Cal could protest, and the boy flashed him a grin. “Come on, the last thing we want is to be caught out in the open when it begins to pour.”
Cal looked sourly down the valley before turning to the wagon driver, whose face was split by a broad smile. “You’re welcome to sit anywhere.”
“Thank you,” the young man murmured before reluctantly climbing into the back of the wagon.
“I’m Reggie, by the way,” the boy said brightly as he took the seat next to the driver before offering the old man his hand. “And my unfriendly companion back there is Cal.”
“Niland,” the man said and glanced over his shoulder at Cal before urging his horses forward. “I must say, it’s unusual to see travellers on the road these days. Where are you boys from?”
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“North,” Cal said before Reggie could reply.
“Far enough north that the call to arms hasn’t arrived yet, I’d wager,” Niland remarked as Reggie gave him an apologetic look.
“We’ve received no call to arms,” Cal said brusquely.
“Are you marching off to war then?” the old man asked. “I hope not. At least for your parents’ sake. My son and grandson got whisked off last summer. Not heard from them since. I’m worried sick.”
“We are just travelling south in search of work,” Cal said.
“Say, did you boys see that fire just off the road a day or so ago?” Niland asked. “I wanted to see if I could offer help but I’m overdue and my wife has enough to worry about as it is.”
“We did,” Reggie admitted. “But…”
“You know how it is with rural communities, especially in these times,” Cal interrupted. “If outsiders appear at the same time as a big fire, they’re likely to get blamed, even if it hasn’t rained for weeks.”
“I suppose that’s true enough,” Niland sighed. “Normally folk round these parts are as accommodating as you like, but hard times have made them suspicious of their own kith and kin. It’s a crying shame.”
The old man sighed again and looked up at the sky. “At least the dry spell is over. I only hope we can make it home before the rain arrives.”
“Will there be much work for two young men in town?” Reggie ventured.
The old man’s eyebrows shot up. “But of course. Almost every man of fighting age has been called up over the past two years, and it’s not as though taxes have decreased.”
“Do you know how the war is going?” Reggie asked. “We don’t get much news where we’re from.”
Niland’s lips quivered, and Reggie knew he had struck a nerve. At length, the old man replied. “I’m sure that if our kingdom won even a single victory there would be messengers streaming out of the capital to spread the word. However, we’ve scarcely heard a peep and…”
The old man trembled as he heaved a tired sigh. “I fear you may be swept up in the next round of levies if you linger in our town for too long.”
Niland fell silent as he cast a worried look at the town. Reggie couldn’t help but feel the melancholy that now clung to the old man was his fault. Then, the awkward silence was broken by the sound of Cal sucking in air between his teeth.
“That looks like a nasty wound,” Niland remarked when he turned around to find Cal attempting to pull his overcoat off his forearm which had by now swollen to almost twice its normal size.
The witch hunter gritted his teeth as he forced his arm out of his sleeve before looking up at the old man. “Don’t worry, it’s not contagious.”
“I know it isn’t,” he remarked. “Tangled with a witch, did you?”
Cal narrowed his eyes at the wagon driver. “Maybe I was just careless out in the woods.”
Niland chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve lived up here all my life, spent a lot of time in the wilds. Never in all my years have I encountered a plant that left that sort of mark, save once.”
“Oh?” Cal offered. Reggie’s heart began to race when he saw Cal’s hand drift towards the hilt of his sword.
The mirth vanished from Niland’s face, and Reggie shifted himself away from the old man. “They said a witch had taken up residence deep in the woods close to Nagger’s Hollow, where I grew up. We were told to stay away, but being children, Brandon and I decided to try and catch a glimpse of her. He pricked himself on some thorns close to where her home was supposed to be.”
“What happened to him?” Cal asked evenly.
“First, his arm swelled up like yours,” Niland replied. “The pain was unbearable, and he was screaming constantly. We took him to an apothecary in the next village over who amputated the arm. I don’t know if it was the shock or the poison, but he died. My parents moved us to Baldrick’s Crossing where I’ve lived ever since.”
“You are lucky to be alive,” Cal remarked.
“Oh don’t I know it,” Niland remarked. “When we came back from the apothecary, we found a tangled nightmare. The bodies were…”
The old man paused and shuddered. “It was horrific…”
Cal eyed the old man carefully and at length, allowed his hand to fall away from his sword to remove a tube from the pouch at his hip. Slowly, and without taking his eyes off the driver, he began to apply salve on his arm.
“You’re a witch hunter,” Niland observed.
“What’s it to you?” Cal asked quietly.
“I left town in search of one,” The old man replied. “It seemed I had to return empty handed until I encountered the two of you.”
Cal’s eyes hardened. “You would have had more luck heading south than north then, wouldn’t you?”
Niland’s eyes widened in surprise briefly. “Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t have heard if you’re living north of us.”
“What is it?” Reggie asked.
“Witch's lives are now protected by the royal decree,” Niland began. “Killing one is a capital offence.”
“So it’s true,” Cal muttered to himself.
“That’s outrageous!” Reggie blurted. “Does that mean that they are free to do as they please?”
Niland shook his head. “No, but anyone suspected of being a witch is to be reported to the closest Crown Office, and they will dispatch a sanctioned witch hunter as quickly as they can. Under no circumstances are the witches to be killed.”
“What in the hells are they playing at?” Cal demanded.
“We can only speculate what the nobles are doing in Kingsgate,” Niland said, shaking his head sadly. “I went north to send word out that we were looking for any witch hunter that could come to our aid in a timely manner. If the capital found out what I was doing, I would likely have been thrown into a dungeon for the rest of my days.”
“Then why risk it?” Reggie asked. “Why not wait for the sanctioned witch hunter to arrive?”
“Because witches are nothing if not petty,” Cal said. “If one knows she’s been discovered, she is likely to go on a rampage before she slips away.”
“Every moment we wait risks unspeakable death and devastation,” Niland added gravely.
“What makes you think you have a witch problem?” Cal ventured.
“Missing children, eerie occurrences after dark, a growing sense of dread amongst the townspeople,” Niland replied.
“Do you have an idea of what kind of witch you’re dealing with?” Cal asked.
A look of confusion crossed the old man’s face. “A witch is a witch.”
“How many types of witches are there?” Reggie blurted.
“Many,” Cal replied. “The ones you and the old man encountered in his youth are Witches of the Thorn, the most common type.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Niland shrugged.
“Then do you know how many children have gone missing and over how long?” Cal asked.
Niland blinked. “Thirteen over the past year.”
Cal clicked his tongue. “That’s one hungry witch. She must be a powerful one. Were the disappearances spread out evenly over time?”
“More or less,” Niland allowed.
Cal nodded. “There’s the first piece of good news.”
“So what’s the plan?” Reggie asked. “Do we swoop in, capture the witch and then ransom her to the crown?”
“Attempting to capture a witch is folly,” Cal spat. “We kill her.”
“Wouldn’t that make us criminals?” Reggie cried, aghast.
Cal’s face twisted into a malicious grin. “Only if we get caught.”
“I like the way you think, young man,” Niland broke into a grin that mirrored Cal’s. “Although I don’t think my neighbours will feel the same way.”
Cal’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why is that? Getting rid of a witch sooner is better than later.”
The old man smirked. “The crown is offering a generous bounty to the people of a town that provides information leading to the live capture of a witch. Many of those who know have already decided how they are going to spend their portion of the reward.”
Cal’s shoulders slumped, and he gasped in disbelief. “Well, that’s just perfect.”
Reggie looked troubled as he pondered what was just said. At length, he spoke. “Does that mean we won’t get paid for this job either?”
Niland turned to Cal and smiled wryly. “Will you take the job?”
“Yes,” the witch hunter said without hesitation.
“But how will we eat?” Reggie asked glumly.
Niland ruffled the boy’s hair. “I can scrape together some form of reward. It won’t be much, but with care, it will be enough for you to live off for a while at least.”