Page 2 of The Noldrin Witch

Prudent as Elise liked to think of herself, she also shared some of her wishes and hopes with a few willing ears, an economy of discretion she would soon come to regret. In a small town between rival territories as Noldrin was, such confidences traveled faster than fire through dry straw.

The whispers reached Lady Patrice at once, and being much averse to confrontation, the wealthy lady resolved to hold her tongue and hasten the preparations for the occasion.

During the months of hushed gossip, Edward visited even more frequently, and people’s imaginations soon began to run wild. With little more to do than prepare meals and tend to their trades, the good folk of the town had no desire to leave any tale untold, and before long, the rumors outpaced the reality of Elise’s situation.

Nevertheless, Elise went into town so rarely that she worried little about any ill will from the good people of Noldrin. She figured she was soon to be betrothed, and any impropriety would be neatly amended in a matter of months.

But happiness is rarely unattended for long, and as is often the case, joy comes only to harden the sting when reality fails to shape our deepest wishes.

As Elise was occupied adding to Edward all the virtues imaginable and painting her future life with the kind of splendor reserved for a romance of the century, her hometown was in a perilous political state.

Noldrin was, by its very nature, a land of quiet tension. Nestled between two powerful kingdoms, Falaine and Bromheim, it was only natural that the people of the town be acquainted with both the virtues and the vices of each realm. Though Noldrin belonged to Falaine by right, Bromheim had long kept a watchful eye upon such fertile lands.

The small town of Noldrin produced more grain and cotton than much of Bromheim itself, and being so near and already familiar with its customs, it was hardly surprising that the kingdom would seek to claim such a modest prize as its own.

Only a wooden bridge separated the two nations, and the shallow river that softened the meadows between them did little to discourage the ambitions of the foreign side.

The blending of traditions proved, at times, more a curse than a blessing. News was treated as currency, and shifting loyalties were no matter to trifle with.

Bromheim was present in Noldrin not only in the architecture of half its dwellings but in the saints invoked within its only chapel. The very cut and fashion of the garments worn about the town square stood as plain signs of Bromheim’s growing influence.

The people of Noldrin had long favored modest dress, yet the allure of Bromheim’s fashion quickly reshaped that centuries-old restraint into something rather more revealing. The men took to wearing leggings so tight that the townsfolk first found them scandalous, only to grow accustomed to them in no time. A woman needed only a single glance to know all she cared to know.

It was during these times that a political council between the King of Falaine and a commander from Bromheim gave rise to a tale that would spark the final cause for conflict.

The commander, Sir Langohr, was a fine fellow known less for valor than for his talent in twisting words. The crafty man visited the king with every intention of coaxing a few explosive remarks about the monarch of Bromheim.

To Sir Langohr’s good fortune, the opportunity was not spoiled, and he ended the meeting with just the right amount of venom to spin a tale of convenient outrage.

The good people of Bromheim, divided as they were by their own stubborn ways, found it impossible to declare war outright, as they were not certain that all the cities of the kingdom would unite in a common cause against Falaine. So the general, Sir Langohr, took it upon himself to see that his tale reached the King of Falaine as well, trusting, with some confidence, that His Majesty would be inclined to begin the proceedings.

The monarch of Falaine, known as a proud man, was quick to announce war upon hearing his words so carefully rearranged, and with that, the King of Bromheim found himself appearing the injured party and able to gather without question the alliance of all the armies in his kingdom.

This marked the series of events that would put Elise’s happiness and comfort to the test and reveal in time the true nature of Edward’s so-called love.

Chapter 2

With the war declared between Falaine and Bromheim, Elise saw how everything in town and at Lady Patrice’s manor swiftly changed. The conflict had brought not only fear, but the sudden prudence of keeping one’s valuables closer at hand.

As troops moved across the kingdom, it soon became common for soldiers to seek lodging in houses that displayed a measure of wealth. The king’s men had an open decree to gather any valuables they saw fit. Even Lady Patrice, ever generous and with a well-stocked larder, was inclined to hide away her paintings, jewels, and other such items the king might find easy to take.

Elise continued her romance with Edward, relieved to notice that his affections appeared entirely unmoved by the political tempest.

Despite her shifting environment, Elise felt safe and in a complete disposition to remain that way.

One night, without wishing to pry, she became aware of the origins of Lady Patrice and her family’s wealth. She was not surprised to learn that the great sum of coin had come from generations of careful keeping, though it seemed that it had not been equally preserved by some of Lady Patrice’s siblings.

Elise came upon this knowledge by overhearing Edward and her protector whispering in the kitchens, lamenting the tragic fate of one of their relatives. Lady Patrice’s brother had moved to Bromheim after gathering his portion of the same inheritance that had allowed his sister to enjoy her present comforts. Much like Lady Patrice, he had been inclined to look among the lower stations for a companion, and in his case, when seeking a wife. The difficulty lay in that his chosen bride, in addition to possessing little education, proved most reckless in matters of trade, and nearly every venture they undertook ended in loss.

With his coin depleted and some pride still clinging to him, the brother had joined the army in hopes of securing a steadier livelihood, and perhaps distinguishing himself enough to restore his family’s standing. That hope, however, did not survive him. He perished in his efforts, leaving behind a widow and two daughters more burdened than before and with little to show for his attempts.

Lady Patrice decided at once to send for these wretched people, setting quill to paper and inviting the unfortunate souls to her estate where she might care for them in her brother’s honor.

None of this afflicted Elise in the slightest. On the contrary, she was more than ready to receive them with the same kindness she had come to show everyone within the manor. Seeing herself as nearly part of the family already, her heart lifted at the thought of extending her future circle of relations.

But soon after Lady Greta and her well-fed daughters, Rebecca and Iness, arrived at the estate, Elise found that the kindness of Lady Patrice’s family had not passed with the marriage.

Lady Greta appeared a humble woman upon first meeting, but within a week her true nature became quite clear. The widow seemed to take pleasure only in leisure, and even the most minuscule task required the assistance of a servant. She claimed Lady Patrice’s brother had spoiled her, and that after years of doing very little, her muscles had grown so weak that the slightest effort confined her to bed for days. By the second week, Lady Greta spent most of her time there, forgetting any arrangements that required her attention. The only thing she never forgot was her meals, for which she requested a bell to keep at her bedside to summon assistance as needed.