Witch Hunt! (short story)

[Vonlanthen]

Another short story attempt. Again, please leave comments

[Vonlanthen]

The loud crack of metal against metal quickly drew attention to itself in the crisp morning air of the village. Villagers – men from the fields, women from the houses – all came to see what had to be the posting of a new proclamation from the monarchs of the land. The messenger, parchment poster successfully nailed to a tree, rode off in the direction of the next village along the road, leaving the villagers (the literate ones, at least) to pore over the message left behind. It didn’t take long for the word to spread, bringing with it both angry mutterings (mostly from the women) and nods of agreement (mostly from the men); the subject was a contentious one.
One woman, however, had formed the beginnings of a plan.

[center]Attention, all people of the kingdom.
On the day of the next full moon, the rightful regents of this land will be holding interviews for a new position in their court.
The new position is that of Chief Witch Hunter, and the person appointed will have responsibility for dealing with the great evil threatening us – the witches.
The person best suited to the post will be appointed.
By order of the King and Queen.[/center]

[center]***[/center]

The trumpeters sounded, the fanfares rang out; the day of applications had arrived. The King and Queen had seated themselves on the raised dais in the centre of the throne-room. The captain of the guards, Tybalt, was watching the crowds carefully for any disturbances. The seats on both sides and the balconies above them were packed to capacity, all persons eager to see which of the prospective witch-hunters would be appointed to the new position. Whoever won would have a sizable job ahead of them; it was said that the commonness of witches was one of the great evils plaguing the kingdom at present.

The first few applicants were led in, more males than females; they each in turn explained how they would best go about the job of finding and catching all of the witches in the kingdom. There were many contenders for the title of chief witch-hunter, and everyone wanted to leave a favourable impression on the minds of the rulers. All had the same theme, however – how they would go about detecting a witch.

The King decided just after midday that it was time for a break; he wanted a meal, and also wanted to discuss the day so far with his wife, the Queen.

[center]***[/center]
“There are so many contenders,” he said, “and all of them at least seem…enthusiastic. But I haven’t yet seen anyone who stands out from the rest, anyone who would bring something new and exciting to help solve our problem!”

“Yes, my husband, that is true. They all have their methods for finding witches, but most of them are just the same things over and over. I am getting tired of hearing about the benefits of a hot fire.”

“Indeed, my dear. And likewise the drowning. But these are the methods we've been using for years, and with little success! Witches still run rampant in our lands, doing untold damage to our people and bringing the wrath of the Church on us. We need something new!”

“Patience, my King. There are many more applicants to come before us yet; perhaps one of them will be what we’re looking for.
[center]***[/center]

The monarchs’ frustration was understandable. Although the traditional methods of detecting a witch – drowning or burning them to see if they died, torturing them until they confessed – were reasonably successful, they wanted something different. Something that preferably didn’t involve killing a significant portion of the women in their country because of false accusations – accusations that were only proven false when the person burned at the stake did die, or the person that was drowned stayed dead. Looking for something more accurate - and possibly less gruesome - was an admirable goal.

The applications continued through the afternoon; the search went on for the person to fill the role of Chief Witch Hunter.

[center]***[/center]
It had been a long walk from the village, and the woman didn’t arrive until well into the afternoon. She knew that the applications would still be going on and that many people would be hopeful of securing the new position in Their Majesties court; she just hoped that she could make more of an impression than anyone else.

She was risking much, Jenna knew, but it would be well worth it if she succeeded. If she didn’t – well, she probably wouldn’t be around for too long afterwards to contemplate the failure. She had been waiting for a chance like this one for a long time. If she was successful, it would change her life and the lives of many others – and she would finally have a chance for revenge on the ones she hated. It would be a sweet revenge.

Steeling herself, she joined the still-sizable queue of contenders. Her preparations had been good; she would succeed.

[center]***[/center]

“May I announce Jenna, the next applicant,” the Herald announced in a bored voice. The ceremonies were dragging on and on; it was now approaching darkness, and the line was finally growing short. Jenna was one of the last applicants. The King and Queen were almost in despair; no-one had been suitable so far, and it seemed unlikely that a promising person would emerge from the last few prospective witch hunters. Still, they carried on.

Jenna bowed low to the monarchs, then rose and looked up.
“Your Highnesses, I’m sure that you’ve heard many things today about how best to catch a witch. I’m also sure that it was all of the usual things, like burning at a stake or drowning. I, however, won’t explain to you my methods.”
There was an increase in the murmurings from the crowd.
“But, I will point out to you a male witch in this very hall, right now.”
The mutterings from the audience stopped in mid-mutter. The King and Queen began to take a greater interest in the woman before them.
“Go on,” the King ordered. This was different from normal, he knew; could this woman be what they were looking for?

“Yes, Your Highness. I expect this to be something of a shock, though. The warlock in our midst is…” She paused, as everyone in the hall hung on her every word. Someone would hang on her next one.
“…Captain of the Guards, Tybalt.”

There was a startled grunt from just behind and below the thrones, where the Captain had been standing throughout the day. “Throw that woman in chains!” he shouted; soldiers leapt to do his will.
“Search his room!” Jenna exclaimed. No one could miss the hate-filled glare she had turned on Tybalt.

The King slowly held up his hand for all action to stop. He was curious about this woman, who had proved more interesting than anyone who had come before her. He decided she deserved a chance to prove her words were true, and not just a deception.
“Tybalt’s rooms will be searched,” he said as he directed some soldiers to do just that. Tybalt himself was fuming at the outrage of this woman, even though he knew that a search of his rooms would turn up nothing.

Jenna knew now that her fate was sealed, one way or another. If her accusation proved to be true, she would become the Chief Witch Hunter; on the other hand, if her accusation was false… but it was what she had come to do. She was confident.

The noise from the crowd had grown once more, discussing the probably outcomes of the situation and placing bets. Most of them seemed sure that the woman, Jenna, would be hanged before nightfall; they mightn’t have been wrong.

[center]***[/center]

“Here we have uncovered a deep-rooted evil, a witch, discovered in part because of their own arrogance.” The King was now standing, addressing the assembled crowd.
“But for the Lady Jenna, we may never have discovered that there was a practitioner of the blackest magicks in the very heart of the kingdom, holding no less a position than the Captain of the Guards! This woman has proved her ability beyond doubt; I appoint her to the post of Chief Witch Hunter, guardian against this evil.”

On the outside she accepted gracefully and humbly; on the inside, she was exultant.

[center]***[/center]

She approached the village, still buzzing from the day’s success. She didn’t begin in her new position for two days; time enough to arrange her affairs. Arriving at her cottage she bent down to stroke her cat at the doorstep before moving inside, still thinking on how she had managed to pull it off today. Chief Witch Hunter of the whole kingdom! She could hardly believe it, it was like a dream come true. It was ironic to the extreme, of course, but she was well aware that she was the only one in a position to see the irony.

A grimoire had been discovered in the Captain’s room, effectively sealing his fate. The punishment for possession of a book such as that was death by hanging, a death which he had gone to soon after, still protesting his innocence. It had been relatively easy to put a copy of a well-known grimoire in his room, of course. She was, after all, a witch. A simple transportation of such a magical item as that was of no consequence to someone of her ability and training. Timing had been the only slight difficulty, but with the Captain in the throne room throughout the day…

Needless to say, she felt no remorse for the wrongful death of Tybalt. He had been a vicious enemy of her kind; not a witch, but a witch hunter himself. He had sent many of her compatriots to the stake, but that was now ended. He would not be the first of her enemies to feel her wrath from her now almost-unassailable position.

Leaving the house through the back door, she expertly guided her broomstick into the night sky for a celebratory flight. Her silhouette flitted for an instant against the background of the full moon, and then she was gone.

[center]***The End***[/center]