Crazywolf
08-07-2014, 02:15 PM
This is the first post of what I hope will be an on-going story. All c&c welcome. :)
Katrina gazed round helplessly at the cold stone and mortar of the four walls around her. She felt the heavy iron manacles chafing uncomfortably at her slender wrists. Her eyes fixed on the heavy bolted oak door in the wall opposite. Were those scratch-marks in the woodwork? She imagined some desperate condemned soul trying to claw their way out. A brief chill passed down her spine. Never before in her life had she ever felt so lost, alone and scared.
Several hours earlier she had been arrested in the street by a pair of witch-hunters. Arrested on the suspicion of witchcraft and heresy. It was they who had brought her to this place, inside the local courthouse. Following a brief cursory questioning she had been left here in the cell, left alone with her fears and anxieties. Perhaps in hindsight she should have seen this coming. Briefly she thought of her husband Hugh, wondering where he was. Did he even know yet that she was here? Surely someone must have told him.
At that moment she suddenly heard a loud thud as the bolts on the door were drawn back. A second later the door swung outward to reveal a lean-faced guardsman with one of the witch-hunters standing just behind.
“Frau Kessler” the witch-hunter spoke in a flat neutral tone, “if you would come with us.”
In response she rose nervously to her feet. Doing her best to maintain her dignity and composure she stepped across the room to the threshold of the doorway.
“This way” the witch-hunter motioned. The guard took her by the arm and they led her down a short passgeway, past a watch-room and into a second passageway that ended at another door which the witch-hunter pushed open. Inside was a modest size room with high windows and grim iron sconces on the walls. In the middle of the room was a simple desk with two chairs, one positioned either side. The guard steered her to the further seat then took up an impassive position a couple of feet away from the table, his back resting against the wall. The witch-hunter seated himself in the chair opposite. As he sat she felt his eyes upon her watching her every movement.
Finally she found the courage to speak. “Please, I'd like to see my husband. Just to let him see that I'm alright.”
“I'm sorry Frau Kessler but that won't be possible” the witch-hunter replied. For a moment her heart sank but she bit her lip and did her best to maintain her composure. “I wish to ask you some questions” he went on. “You may see me as unjustly cruel but I assure you that is not the case. You should understand*however that it is in your own interest to cooperate.”
She nodded mutely, waiting to see what would come.
“So as I understand it you are married?”
“Yes.”
“And your husband is a roadwarden?”
“Yes.” She wondered how much he already knew about her, how much the questions were merely testing.
“Do you have any children?”
“No.”
“Might I ask why not?”
Her cheeks flushed. “I really don't see how my own private life is anything to do with this.”
His expression hardened. “Frau Kessler” he replied sternly “I will ask whatever questions I see fit so please do not make me repeat myself.”
She flinched back slightly under his veiled warning. It felt she had no option but to give him an answer. “I didn't want to give up my*work after getting married” she said, “at least not straight away, so we both agreed to wait.”
“I see.” Looking at his face she saw the expression was cold, neutral and impassive. “Let's move on to your work” he continued. “I understand you are a herbalist by trade.”
“Yes.”
“And you have been practicing herbalism for a while?”
“Yes, for a number of years.” She was about to add that she had started as a girl helping her mother but she checked herself and bit her lip, there was no need to bring all this down on her mother as well.
The witch-hunter nodded. “I know a little herb-lore myself. Not as much as yourself no doubt, but enough to recognize certain herbs that are used for creating spells. Certain herbs that incidentally we found when we searched inside your house.”
Katrina flinched slightly. “I-I know the ones you mean, but I only use them for creating medicine” she replied. “I've never done any witchcraft with them I swear it.”
“Hmm I see” he replied, his tone was impassive not revealing whether he really believed her. “And is it not true that several people treated by yourself recently died of a strange sickness?”
“There was a sickness in the town yes” she said. “Something I hadn't seen before. I tried to treat those who had it but unfortunately nothing worked and the symptoms got worse.”
“There are those who believe this sickness was in fact the result of a curse” he replied. “That it was you who spread the malady in the first place.”
“That's not true” she protested vehmently. By now she was feeling extremely anxious. “The priestess is the one behind all these lies” she blurted out. “She was the one who called you in wasn't she?”
“I'm sorry Frau Kessler” he frowned “but I cannot divulge the names of your accusers.”
“Don't you see, all her views are wrong” she protested. “She thinks that medicine should only be practiced by the priesthood and them alone. Which is obviously total nonsense, she's just a jealous bigot. But that's why she hates me.”
The witch-hunter frowned slightly. “As I told you already I cannot divulge the names of accusers. Suffice to say all parties with an interest in this case have been questioned and had their evidence cross examined.”
He paused as though weighing things up in his mind, then abruptly he appeared to come to some type of decision. “I don't see a need in dragging this out any further. I will concede that the evidence for and against you is inconclusive, but I'm afraid that in such a case I cannot afford to take any chances. At dawn tomorrow you will be taken out into the courtyard where you will be tied to a stake and burnt.”
At his words Katrina reeled in shock. His crushing verdict was like a hammer blow. "But-but don't I have a trial" she stammered.
"These proceedings were your trial" he replied. His tone remained controlled and impassive.
Looking into his face she saw naught but grim resolution. Seeing no hope of mercy a feeling of helplessness and despair overwhelmed her. “No, please” she begged knowing it was futile.
"I'm sorry Frau Kessler but the decision is final" the witch-hunter replied. He glanced over toward the second man in the room. "Guard please escort Frau Kessler back to her cell." As the guard stepped forward to lead her away the witch-hunter who remained seated turned his gaze back upon her one final time. "Frau we shall meet again at dawn."
***
The next day it was a cold morning. Katrina shivered slightly at the posse of militia guards led her out into the square. She had nothing to shield her from the chill aside from the simple white dress she had been wearing since the day before. Ahead of her was a pyre piled up with brushwood with a tall stake in the centre. The site of it filled her with dread. Though it was still early a number of passing townfolk had gathered to witness the spectacle, thus forming a modest size crowd of onlookers. As she was led up toward the pyre some looked at her with scorn while others seemed somewhat more awkward and uncomfortable. Just to one side of the pyre there stood the two witch-hunters who had first arrested her, a man and a woman, both their expressions cold and grim.
She tried her best to be brave but on the inside she felt so afraid. Up until this moment she had clung to the faint hope that Hugh would find some means to save her, even though the logical part of her mind told that there was little that one man could do alone. Her eyes scanned the assembled crowd but saw no sign of him. She wondered what could have happened to him and why he wasn't there for her.
Meanwhile the guardsmen led her up onto the pyre and positioned her with her back against the stake. They then untied her wrists so they could bind them to the stake behind her. Briefly she thought of all the people in her life whom she loved, those whom she would never see again or at least not within that same life. As they lit the piles of brushwood around her feet she closed her eyes and prayed to Shallya, beseeching the healing-goddess to save her from the terrible agonies to come. Unfortunately however the goddess did not answer. As the flames rose the heat scorched her legs and she cried out in anguish. The pain was beyond anything she could ever have imagined. She prayed desperately for it to cease but instead it just intensified as the flames got hotter. It was so intense it blanked out everything else in her mind. The only things left in all existence were herself and the fire. It felt as though the continuous agony would never cease, until finally, mercifully, the pain overload on her senses caused her to lose consciousness. At that point her whole world went black and she knew nothing more.
Katrina gazed round helplessly at the cold stone and mortar of the four walls around her. She felt the heavy iron manacles chafing uncomfortably at her slender wrists. Her eyes fixed on the heavy bolted oak door in the wall opposite. Were those scratch-marks in the woodwork? She imagined some desperate condemned soul trying to claw their way out. A brief chill passed down her spine. Never before in her life had she ever felt so lost, alone and scared.
Several hours earlier she had been arrested in the street by a pair of witch-hunters. Arrested on the suspicion of witchcraft and heresy. It was they who had brought her to this place, inside the local courthouse. Following a brief cursory questioning she had been left here in the cell, left alone with her fears and anxieties. Perhaps in hindsight she should have seen this coming. Briefly she thought of her husband Hugh, wondering where he was. Did he even know yet that she was here? Surely someone must have told him.
At that moment she suddenly heard a loud thud as the bolts on the door were drawn back. A second later the door swung outward to reveal a lean-faced guardsman with one of the witch-hunters standing just behind.
“Frau Kessler” the witch-hunter spoke in a flat neutral tone, “if you would come with us.”
In response she rose nervously to her feet. Doing her best to maintain her dignity and composure she stepped across the room to the threshold of the doorway.
“This way” the witch-hunter motioned. The guard took her by the arm and they led her down a short passgeway, past a watch-room and into a second passageway that ended at another door which the witch-hunter pushed open. Inside was a modest size room with high windows and grim iron sconces on the walls. In the middle of the room was a simple desk with two chairs, one positioned either side. The guard steered her to the further seat then took up an impassive position a couple of feet away from the table, his back resting against the wall. The witch-hunter seated himself in the chair opposite. As he sat she felt his eyes upon her watching her every movement.
Finally she found the courage to speak. “Please, I'd like to see my husband. Just to let him see that I'm alright.”
“I'm sorry Frau Kessler but that won't be possible” the witch-hunter replied. For a moment her heart sank but she bit her lip and did her best to maintain her composure. “I wish to ask you some questions” he went on. “You may see me as unjustly cruel but I assure you that is not the case. You should understand*however that it is in your own interest to cooperate.”
She nodded mutely, waiting to see what would come.
“So as I understand it you are married?”
“Yes.”
“And your husband is a roadwarden?”
“Yes.” She wondered how much he already knew about her, how much the questions were merely testing.
“Do you have any children?”
“No.”
“Might I ask why not?”
Her cheeks flushed. “I really don't see how my own private life is anything to do with this.”
His expression hardened. “Frau Kessler” he replied sternly “I will ask whatever questions I see fit so please do not make me repeat myself.”
She flinched back slightly under his veiled warning. It felt she had no option but to give him an answer. “I didn't want to give up my*work after getting married” she said, “at least not straight away, so we both agreed to wait.”
“I see.” Looking at his face she saw the expression was cold, neutral and impassive. “Let's move on to your work” he continued. “I understand you are a herbalist by trade.”
“Yes.”
“And you have been practicing herbalism for a while?”
“Yes, for a number of years.” She was about to add that she had started as a girl helping her mother but she checked herself and bit her lip, there was no need to bring all this down on her mother as well.
The witch-hunter nodded. “I know a little herb-lore myself. Not as much as yourself no doubt, but enough to recognize certain herbs that are used for creating spells. Certain herbs that incidentally we found when we searched inside your house.”
Katrina flinched slightly. “I-I know the ones you mean, but I only use them for creating medicine” she replied. “I've never done any witchcraft with them I swear it.”
“Hmm I see” he replied, his tone was impassive not revealing whether he really believed her. “And is it not true that several people treated by yourself recently died of a strange sickness?”
“There was a sickness in the town yes” she said. “Something I hadn't seen before. I tried to treat those who had it but unfortunately nothing worked and the symptoms got worse.”
“There are those who believe this sickness was in fact the result of a curse” he replied. “That it was you who spread the malady in the first place.”
“That's not true” she protested vehmently. By now she was feeling extremely anxious. “The priestess is the one behind all these lies” she blurted out. “She was the one who called you in wasn't she?”
“I'm sorry Frau Kessler” he frowned “but I cannot divulge the names of your accusers.”
“Don't you see, all her views are wrong” she protested. “She thinks that medicine should only be practiced by the priesthood and them alone. Which is obviously total nonsense, she's just a jealous bigot. But that's why she hates me.”
The witch-hunter frowned slightly. “As I told you already I cannot divulge the names of accusers. Suffice to say all parties with an interest in this case have been questioned and had their evidence cross examined.”
He paused as though weighing things up in his mind, then abruptly he appeared to come to some type of decision. “I don't see a need in dragging this out any further. I will concede that the evidence for and against you is inconclusive, but I'm afraid that in such a case I cannot afford to take any chances. At dawn tomorrow you will be taken out into the courtyard where you will be tied to a stake and burnt.”
At his words Katrina reeled in shock. His crushing verdict was like a hammer blow. "But-but don't I have a trial" she stammered.
"These proceedings were your trial" he replied. His tone remained controlled and impassive.
Looking into his face she saw naught but grim resolution. Seeing no hope of mercy a feeling of helplessness and despair overwhelmed her. “No, please” she begged knowing it was futile.
"I'm sorry Frau Kessler but the decision is final" the witch-hunter replied. He glanced over toward the second man in the room. "Guard please escort Frau Kessler back to her cell." As the guard stepped forward to lead her away the witch-hunter who remained seated turned his gaze back upon her one final time. "Frau we shall meet again at dawn."
***
The next day it was a cold morning. Katrina shivered slightly at the posse of militia guards led her out into the square. She had nothing to shield her from the chill aside from the simple white dress she had been wearing since the day before. Ahead of her was a pyre piled up with brushwood with a tall stake in the centre. The site of it filled her with dread. Though it was still early a number of passing townfolk had gathered to witness the spectacle, thus forming a modest size crowd of onlookers. As she was led up toward the pyre some looked at her with scorn while others seemed somewhat more awkward and uncomfortable. Just to one side of the pyre there stood the two witch-hunters who had first arrested her, a man and a woman, both their expressions cold and grim.
She tried her best to be brave but on the inside she felt so afraid. Up until this moment she had clung to the faint hope that Hugh would find some means to save her, even though the logical part of her mind told that there was little that one man could do alone. Her eyes scanned the assembled crowd but saw no sign of him. She wondered what could have happened to him and why he wasn't there for her.
Meanwhile the guardsmen led her up onto the pyre and positioned her with her back against the stake. They then untied her wrists so they could bind them to the stake behind her. Briefly she thought of all the people in her life whom she loved, those whom she would never see again or at least not within that same life. As they lit the piles of brushwood around her feet she closed her eyes and prayed to Shallya, beseeching the healing-goddess to save her from the terrible agonies to come. Unfortunately however the goddess did not answer. As the flames rose the heat scorched her legs and she cried out in anguish. The pain was beyond anything she could ever have imagined. She prayed desperately for it to cease but instead it just intensified as the flames got hotter. It was so intense it blanked out everything else in her mind. The only things left in all existence were herself and the fire. It felt as though the continuous agony would never cease, until finally, mercifully, the pain overload on her senses caused her to lose consciousness. At that point her whole world went black and she knew nothing more.