But what had happened to Miss Laffay? With me temporarily incapacitated by whatever she had done to me, Nico must have arrested her and taken her to the castle with the others.
I needed to get back and begin the interrogation. But first, I couldn’t leave the little girl lying there alone, and I couldn’t bring her back to the castle. How would I explain her death? I may not have killed her, but it was on my command that we had come here and Peter had made his fatal mistake.
Whether or not the youngster had been a witch could not be confirmed, and so I did what I thought was right. I picked up aspade and dug a shallow grave, laying the girl’s limp, blanket-wrapped body down inside the hole. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and said a blessing in Latin before covering her with earth. Then I went inside the cottage and took the kindling from the fireplace and a tinderbox from the mantelpiece, using it to light a fire on one of the straw-stuffed mattresses in the only bedroom.
I sneezed. The black cat had followed me inside and now hissed and yowled until I chased it out. I stood on the garden path, watching until the fire caught and flames licked at the thatched roof. Now, the witch Morgaine Laffay would have nowhere to return to, nowhere to hide. It wouldn’t be long before she was caught and brought to the dungeons in irons. I wiped my damp forehead on my sleeve and set off back to Kings Clipstone.
I had almost reachedthe castle when I sighted my guards and the two witches on their way to the dungeons.
A strange light-headedness came over me the closer I got to them. I called out but my voice barely rose above a croak. I dragged myself to the stables, where they had gone to return the horses, and finally collapsed on the cobbles, staring up at a brutal grey sky.
“Stefano?” Nico knelt beside me, his worried face blocking out the weak sunlight. “I thought you were dead,amico. I was going to ride back for your body once the witches were locked in the dungeon.”
I gulped down air, panic rising, fingers clawing at my chest. What was happening to me? I saw Nico’s eyes travel down to the collar of my jerkin and widen in surprise. He tore my shirt aside and breathed out sharply.
I heard a gasp and looked up to see the brothers holding the two witches as they all looked down at me. The younger, red-headed witch blurted, “The bond,” before the older one hissed at her to be quiet.
“Get them to the dungeons, now!” I could tell from Nico’s tone he was concerned about what they had seen and what they may say about it, especially if it might get them out of being tortured and executed. Edward and Peter dragged the witches away and Nico helped me up, pulling my shirt carefully over the witch’s mark. He lowered his voice and spoke into my ear. “Let’s get you inside and check you over before we worry about that mark.”
I felt my stomach drop to my feet. I had never heard my best friend’s voice so cold and stern—not when directed at me. A trickle of icy fear slid down my spine. Whatever that witch had done to me, she would answer for it.
Once inside my room, Nico helped me out of my jerkin and onto the bed. I lay there, eyes struggling to focus, breath coming in short pants.
“What did she do to you?”
I passed a hand over my damp face. “I don’t know. Some spell. All I remember is her hand on my chest, and then I passed out. I woke up not long after you had left, and she was gone.” I gasped as pain radiated from the mark over my heart, almost pulsating. I lifted my shirt to see the redness had spread; it definitely had not been this large before. Dread flooded me, and I looked to Nico for reassurance, but his expression only made me more fearful.
“I’ll fetch a healer.” He left me alone to think about the consequences of what had happened. If word got out about the mark, it wouldn’t be long before I was forced to leave my post as High Sheriff. The fear of witchcraft, so entrenched as it was, would drive the people of Sherwood to suspect me of collusion,and Prince John wouldn’t be able to convince them otherwise. Staying would only put me in line for the gallows.
I shifted, wincing at the pain in my chest. I had come across many witches in my time, and some of them very skilled in the craft. But none quite as powerful or awe-inspiring as Morgaine Laffay. The way her eyes had glowed, the soft hazel turning to a preternatural shade of green as she used her magic on me. I had felt it, the lightning in my veins as she’d worked her spell. It had been intoxicating.
Until it had almost killed me.
But she had pulled back, chosen to let me live. I knew what it felt like to have that kind of power in your hands, and she had wielded it with mercy and magnanimity. I wasn’t sure I deserved it.
A knock came at the door then, and when it opened I expected to see a healer; perhaps a grey-haired, bearded man with wise yet kind eyes. Instead, my betrothed stepped into the room and closed the door quietly behind her.
I attempted to sit up, but the magic had stolen my strength, so I leant on my elbows and nodded at Lady Gwyn-Marie. “My lady. Do accept my apologies, I was not expecting you.” My voice came out low and hoarse.
She dipped her head. “No apologies necessary, my lord. I only came to see how you are. I overheard word about the attack on you and your guards and hoped to find you well.” My fiancée’s eyes roved over me, drinking in my appearance, lingering at the collar of my shirt. I almost blushed. She appeared keen for answers, a curiosity I hadn’t previously noticed in her gaze. I admired her boldness, perhaps she wouldn’t be as timid and boring as I’d first thought.
“I am quite well, there is nothing to concern yourself over, my lady. It is a hazard of the job. Happily, my men and I were able to arrest two of the witches, and they will be held in thedungeons until they can be questioned.” I forced my features into a reassuring smile, despite my discomfort.
Surprise lit Lady Gwyn’s face. “There were more?”
I hesitated. Perhaps I should have kept Morgaine’s escape quiet and claimed the mission had been a complete success. But I had already underestimated my future bride once, I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. She was more intelligent than I had imagined, and lying to her so soon would risk starting our married life off on the wrong foot. Or worse, she could tell her father of my duplicitousness and refuse to marry me at all.
And yet, I found I couldn’t bring myself to mention the young girl who had been killed. Lady Gwyn would think me a monster if she knew.
I bowed my head in a show of contrition. “Yes. There was another, a Miss Laffay. She attacked me with magic and absconded into the forest. But my men and I will hunt her down, mark my words, and when we find her she will be executed for assaulting the High Sheriff. Please don’t worry, my lady. There is no danger I won’t protect you from.”
Lady Gwyn’s hands had flown to her mouth when I spoke of being attacked. She peeled them away from her face now and moved to my side, eyes soft with sympathy. “Is there anything I can do, my lord? I have had some training in healing treatments, I could?—”
A bang made us both jump as the door opened, swinging into the side table, and a short, brown-haired woman with grey at the temples bustled in. “Your Highness,” she said, bobbing a quick curtsy. “Your father would like to see you, my lady.” She set about opening a large leather bag with a metal clasp, the contents clinking and clattering.
Lady Gwyn nodded and thanked the healer. She turned to me, a tight smile on her lips, and bowed her head, before disappearing through the door in a swish of satin skirts. Iwatched her go, brow furrowed, a niggling feeling that I couldn’t quite identify.
“Now then,” said the portly woman as she riffled through her medicine bag. “Show me where the witch touched you.”
