Chapter 58 Innocent Sacrificed

  Men burst into the room. “We have caught her! We have caught the witch!”

  Out in front of the lodge Ivan commanded to continue to throw down kindling. With one hand he held fast to a wailing woman raving in anguish. “I tell you I am innocent! Innocent!” Natasha screamed.

  “Lies what were you doing out in the woods!” Grandmother retorted back at her.

  “I heard the voices of my children out in the woods. My girls they were crying for help, for their mother!” Natasha wailed.

  “Your daughters have gone to Volpi everyone knows this!” Ivan bellowed as he lashed her arms with rope.

  “I heard them! I heard them! Please spare not me just go search for them! The witch may be…” Natasha was not allowed to finish at the approach of a larger party.

  “Here they are Ivan, just as you said the clothes she changed from her demon cloth!” The hunting men cast black clothing over the raising parapet of timber.

  “I knew such things could not be far if she was making sacrifices tonight.” Grandmother nodded giving a severe look at the accused. Poor Grandmother who hated to come out in the cold night due to the aching of her bones had been awakened by a terrible fated nightmare. She had rushed to her loved ones and kin to protect them only to find that her boy had done her bloodline proud.

  “Rose is this hideous face what you saw in my hata.” The Tanner gestured to the boil covered woman trembling with fright. Natasha had never been lovely in any light.

  “I cannot be certain; did you not find any gold or leather?” Rose was mortified. She did not think other people might be wandering in the woods at this hour.

  “The child was confused in the dark and demons can often change their faces especially when they feed. Her constitution wavers because this creature draws her pity.” Ivan showed his disdain spitting upon the head below him.

  “True this must be son.” Babushka spoke and all listened grateful their most powerful healer was here to offer advice. She attacked the bound woman spreading her lips like a farmer inspecting its animals.

  “See here her yellow teeth which could be mistaken for gold in the moonlight.” Natasha began to faint. Grandmother grabbed her by the hair and pulled her upright.

  “See here her black locks cut to look like raven’s feathers!” Grandmother raised her voice for all to hear.

  “I cut my hair in mourning for my children!” sobbed Natasha.

  “See how quickly her tongue changes, her children whom she was hunting for in the woods.” Grandmother said chidingly.

  “Please Rose you must tell them! Tell them it is all a lie!” Natasha begged.

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  “Is this a lie?!” Grandmother pulled from Natasha’s apron a long venomous water snake. “See here the evil creeping shadow my Granddaughter has seen!” She swung around the writhing terror even with her aged limp she spoke with passion. Natasha screamed with an anxious fury tears streaming down her face.

  Rose’s lips were set grimly, she was certain the shadow she saw cast was much thinner and longer than the fat snake before her eyes. As her Grandmother’s shall fluttered when she spun Rose recalled the black hair she had seen go over the sill. This clear memory struck her for she remembered its thickness and strange even separation. It had not been hair. It had been thread, tassels she had seen. The villagers grew louder in cries of astonishment and angry ascent to punishment.

  “You will not speak ill at another child you monster!” The Tanner’s wife lunged forward and slapped and beat at Natasha’s face. “Oh you have ruined him! Ruined our child melted his mind out of him!”

  The Tanner’s teeth set fierce at these words. “What?”

  Ivan tore off his handkerchief gagging her mouth while crying out, “Tie her up and burn her!” Rose began to protest.

  “That is not the shadow I saw! I do not think it was Natasha! Father you told me burning would do no good!” The Tanner looked at her oddly when she said this. She tried drawing attention to the snake. Her Grandmother had already dropped it and it slithered away. The villager’s tied Natasha first to a hitching post and then began to elevate her above the collected debris. “Can’t you see she is not injured?! I cut her! I tell you I cut her!” Rose raised her voice. The adults around her were louder.

  “Devil works!”, “Sorcery!” were among the many shouts of outrage. Rose realized she needed some proof for the way was blocked and no one would listen. It had been long since open blood had been spilt in the village. The darkness that swirled in the shadow of their hearts was heightened by a thirst for entertainment that was long overdue. One person had thrown down their torch to aid in the struggle of placement. Rose took it up swiftly and ran away from the malice, harassments and shouts. She ran toward the truth that might possibly lie within the Tanner’s house still. She needed to find the clue that would free the accused.

  Rose burst through the already ajar door. She looked in every corner, jumping at every shadow and preceded bravely to Emilyan’s room. Once inside her eyes sought diligently for any sign. She shivered at the claw marks on one wall. These would not help her.

  “Where are you? I know you are here.” Rose whispered and then shook her head when she realized she was muttering in the same place the creeper had been. She remembered the rack made of skins and antler, looked to the hanging pelts pushed well aside and her Mother’s sickle glittering from the light of her torch still highlighted with a shining splash of blood. She soon bent down and picked up the murderous tool. A small movement beneath it caught her eye. She used the weapon to pick it up. It was a tuft of hair, not black in hue, silver nearly white. This was the hag’s true hair, cut in the unexpected attack. With a shout of triumph Rose stood only to see that her diminishing torch was no longer what lighted the room. Across the way from the open window the bonfire filled the air with smoke. At the center of it Rose could make out barely the figure of a human being whose head was drooping as flames lapped the entirety of her flesh; new cheers alighted outside whilst music and dancing began.

  Rose walked in a daze looking at the light. Her own torch had fully expired and the sickle trembled in her hands. She wanted to thrust it into herself such was her guilt and despair. Dropping down onto her knee she stuck the sickle down before her Rose placed down the torch and bowed her head in prayer.

  “Natasha, the ridicule you suffered on earth dies with my pride in assuming that no others would be affected by my actions, I am sorry I shall avenge you, just as I shall avenge my mother and little Emilyan…and,” She began to sob gripping the sill before her to steady herself after the sickle clattered to the floor.

  “What am I doing?! Who am I even fighting! What have I done?! What can I do?!” Perhaps right then she might have lost her mind if not for the sudden shock of a hand reaching up and grasping hers.