“Yes. Yes, it is. A pleasure to meet you, Captain.”
Casrian started up the stairs. “Come along then. Let’s discuss this witch of yours.”
Casrian had hopedfor a short visit—a simple consultation before he sought out the witch. It wasn’t that easy. A visit from an official witch hunter was often turned into a spectacle in these backwater villages.
He knew within a few minutes that this was going to be one of those investigations. Mayor Harlec sent for the priest before Casrian was seated in the library. The priest brought along his assistant, a young novice. Several of the town elders joined them, prepared to give testimony, and the mayor’s wife and daughter kept finding excuses to pop in.
By the time he’d explained several times over that he wasn’t conducting a trial and only needed to speak to the mayor, an hour had passed. In the end, he ordered his men to clear the room and set Daris to guard the door.
“Tell me about your witch,” Casrian said, taking a seat across from the mayor and opening his journal.
Harlec sipped at his drink. “The woman is a widow. Her husband was a soldier, a local boy whose mother owned a house on the edge of town. After the war, he brought his new wife and infant daughter home to live. That first spring, the grandmother and son caught the red fever and passed on.” Harlec shrugged away that unpleasant memory and gestured toward the window. “Mistress Yahl and the girl have lived here since.”
“How does she support herself and the child?”
“Her husband had a pension from some injury he’d received from his soldiering days. They lived on that for a while, but now that the money’s run out she’s turned to selling other services. She’s a beauty who’s too proud for honest work. I warned her it would come to this.”
“You’ve spoken with her about your concerns?”
“Aye. She wasn’t grateful for my interference, I can tell you that. I even offered her a position in my very own household, and she turned me out of her house as if I were the beggar.”
“Did she?” He didn’t like the glint in the mayor’s eyes. There was something unhealthy in it. “She has no family?”
“No one knows much about her family. Rumor says they had money and cast her off for marrying below her station. I don’tknow about that, but she certainly has a prideful way about her.” He snorted. “Who knows? Maybe her family did offer her help and she turned them down too. The fact is she doesn’t have money now. I don’t know how she’ll manage the fines.”
The mayor didn’t look particularly concerned about the predicament the widow faced. In fact, he looked almost glad of it.
“What services specifically is she offering?” Casrian asked carefully. It wouldn’t be the first time leaders tried to drive a whore out of town on charges of witchcraft. Most left willingly. It got tricky when they wanted to stay.
“She mixes herbs. Sells teas and salves. You know…” The mayor leaned forward and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Potions.”
He tapped his pen on his journal. “You mentioned a child.”
“She has a daughter, about twelve years old,” the mayor said. “The girl’s the spitting image of her mother.”
He’d need to question the child too, though he hated that part of the job. But witches often trained their children young. A warning about the dangers of following in her mother’s footsteps should do.
“Thank you for your assistance.” He stood, wanting to get this done as quickly as possible. “Where can I find this witch?”
“Surely you can stay awhile,” the mayor objected. “My wife is looking forward to hearing news from the capital. She’s had our cook prepare a feast.”
He hadn’t come to gossip about the court. “I’d prefer to get started immediately before word of our arrival reaches the witch. Where does she live?”
The mayor opened his mouth, correctly read the determined expression on his face, and sat back with a resigned air. “Follow the main road out of town. It’s the last house before you reach the woods.”
Casrian leftthe mayor’s house with his patience strained to the limit. He pushed through the crowd of people who’d gathered outside. He set Aren and Fen in the street to keep the crowd from following. The last thing he wanted was a mob.
Usually by the time they arrived at a town, things were further gone than this. False alarms weren’t uncommon. His old captain had loved them, treating them as easy jobs that balanced the awful ones they were called to address. Casrian hated them. He’d rather face a fully gone witch. If he wanted politics and flattery, he’d have stayed in the capital.
Daris fell into pace beside him. “What do you think?”
“This is bullshit,” he said bluntly. “The mayor’s wasting our time.”
Daris laughed. “Don’t be too hard on the man. His daughter is pretty, and he offered you a room in his house. We could stay a few days before we begin the long trek home. We’re bound to pass through here again on patrol at some point. We might as well foster good relations.”
Casrian wasn’t interested in fostering any kind of relations with the mayor or his daughter.
“She’s a soldier’s widow,” he said. “She deserves better than this. The mayor said he offered her a room in his house. I suspect it didn’t come without strings attached.”
