“Witch! Bitch! Devil worshiper!”
I walked down the steps, ducking as a rotten cabbage flew by my head to smash into the stone walls of the jail before me.
“HEY! That almost hit my head!” I yelled, glaring at the crowd of blinking faces, “the woman is locked away, I’m just the caretaker.” I lifted the tray with stew I was holding for emphasis.
A middle-aged woman threw her finger forward, waving it towards me, “careful she won’t hex you!”
I frowned at her, raising an eyebrow, “she’ll do no harm. Now off to your houses! It’s no use watching the stone walls for a creature locked away.”
They grumbled at me, tossing the rotten tomatoes they were holding onto the cobbles. I shook my head and closed the jail door, watching them trudge home in the failing light through the bars. Fools.
“It’s all right Miss,” I called down the lines of empty cells, “they won’t bother you for another day.”
“Tha-thankyou sir.” A small voice murmured, “I’m not a bad witch, honest.”
I walked down the corridor towards her, putting the tray on the table in the corner. She sat cross legged on the straw floor, her hair blending in with the dirty stalks. Her small freckled face watched me curiously, green eyes blinking in the half light. She looked like a trapped pup more so than a blood curdling, cattle killing witch.
“It’s Just me Lucy, Tomas.” I said, “and I know you’re no wicked witch, the town is spooked is all.”
She visibly brightened as I came around the corner, settling her shift around her knees. “Wrong time, wrong place.” Lucy sighed, tightly braiding her dirty straw-coloured hair, “my mama did warn me, but here I am. Alone with a boy and about to be hanged.”
I lifted the food hatch on the door and passed the food, pulling a spoon from my pocket. She climbed to her feet and on her tip-toes lifted the bowl from its’ perch, daintily sitting back down. I found myself watching every movement she made, those green eyes, her high cheekbones, her soft skin.
Pulling some fresh bread from my pocket, I gave her half and received a pretty smile.
“Well, you have been here for over three weeks now.” I said, “but the people are pretty spooked. It’ll probably happen at some point.”
“Make a day of it!” she exclaimed around the bread in her mouth, “fly banners, play pin the arrow to the witch, dance naked around a bonfire. I’ll start the first jig!”
“Hope you’re a good dancer.” I said, dodging her spoon as it clattered against the wall an inch from my head.
“It’s like you don’t care!” she said, “I thought we were friends.” She tipped the contents of the bowl into her mouth, the bread already only crumbs.
I leaned closer to the bars, wiping her face with the edge of my tunic, “you know what it took to get this job?” I asked quietly, “what sneaking I did? I was in the cattle guild, not the soldier Lucy. But like I promised when they pulled you away, here I am. Feeding you every night the best I can smuggle in.”
She gripped my hand and pressed it to her cheek, her eyes no longer angry, “I know. Sometimes in the dark, all I can hear are the mice running around my cell. But I trust you.” She looked into my eyes, an inner strength shinning from her, “I have to.”
I curled my fingers along her cheekbone, wiping the tears which tracked through the dust on her face.
“Wrong time, wrong place.” I agreed. But it had been more than that. We had agreed to meet in the fields late one night, a secret date to watch the stars. It was one of many, to lie there. She had been curled into my shoulder, quietly talking of futures and wishes and dreams. Her warmth had seeped into my shirt, the smell of lavender from her herb garden mixed in with her hair. But lights had flashed alight and shouting drove the resting birds to the air. Lucy had pushed me into the haybale nearby, planning to jump in after me when a hand had grabbed her, swinging her around to see her bright emerald green eyes. Her father’s eyes. The eyes of a witchling.
Cattle have been dying, sheep have gone missing. Babies dying before full term. They needed to blame someone. Who better than the daughter of the herbalist?
I pressed my head against the bars. This was my fault. And I would fix it. I pulled out the clothes I had been hiding under my cloak, pulling myself upright.
“Okay. Your mother will be waiting for you at the gate. Put these clothes on and use my key to get out. They’ll think you’re me. We’ll have to cut your hair.”
She nodded as I undid the lock on the cell, throwing the clothes towards her as I pulled out my pocket knife. She sat very still as I gripped the plait of her hair and sawed through the top. It came away in my hands, dirty by soft. I laid it on the cleanest part of the straw and turned my back, giving her privacy to dress. She turned my head with her hands, allowing me to run my hands over her head.
“You’re still beautiful Lucy. To me, to the stars, to the world. You will always be the girl who accepted my flowers and kissed me by the river.”
She blushed, but pulled me closer, kissing me. I hungrily gripped her back, running my lips down her cheeks, across her collarbone. She ran her fingers through my hair, hissing through her teeth when I gently nipped her shoulder.
I pulled back, watching as she subconsciously tried to push a ribbon of non-existent hair behind her ear. She breathed in slowly, calming the anxiety of having no hair. I grabbed my knife and cut a strand of my own jet-black hair, curling it into her palm along with the necklace of a wolf tooth which symbolised my trait of protection.
“Take these and go.” I murmured, ushering her out of the cell, “the dawn guards will be round soon enough, best to be away.”
She pushed back, pressing a hand to my chest, “what about you?”
Flipping the dark hood over her eyes, I pulled her towards the door, “I’ll be causing a distraction.” She leaned in and I kissed her, pulling her body tight against mine before shooing her forward.
“It’ll be alright.” I told her, watching her walk up the corridor, “stop fussing.”
She nodded, turning the corner.
Her head popped back into sight and she eyed me with those emerald eyes, “I love you Tomas.” She whispered, before moving out of sight.
I walked back towards the cell, closing it on me. Slowly I stripped and buried them under the straw, slipping on her dirty shift. I bunched my shoulder length hair into a low pony-tail, connecting the braid of her hair to my own with an extra ribbon. Then I flipped the blanket around my head, allowing her braid to fall down my back and in sight.
Resting my head against the straw with my back towards the bars, I curled in from the cold, grimly holding to the blanket. I imagined dawn peeking behind the barred window, knowing as Lucy hadn’t that the gallows would be erected by now.
And so, I lay there. I remembered Lucy’s laugh, her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she was excited. Her freckles, the way she accidentally shot milk from her nose. Her gentle hands always mending, wrapping bandages, mixing tonics, tending plants. Her sweet singing when she thought no one was watching.
I love you too.
ns 15.158.61.54da2
