Tinker, Tailor, Soldier...Slayer
That Moonwater Witch
The reason I wrote this short story has everything to do with my next book, That Moonwater Witch. This is the second book I’ve written that’s not contemporary/realistic fiction; the first one was Rattlesnake. I probably wouldn’t have written either of these if my husband hadn’t become ill. I found that writing them took me out of the reality of hospital rooms and helped me through a difficult time. Tinker, Tailor, Soldier…Slayer is written in the same tone as those books, and I’m posting it to give readers the flavor of both of them. So here goes. I appreciate feedback and, of course, shares!
Tinker, Tailor, Soldier…Slayer
Part 1
The streets of Crofton Village flowed like muddy rivers. Water lapped over the top steps of shops and houses, while rising and falling tides eddied across barn floors with each new storm front.
In the chaos, villagers took to small boats and pulled the drowning to safety until their strength was spent and they couldn’t row against the cross-currents any longer.
As the last boat moved toward high ground, a man’s body floated alongside, and one of the rowers reached out to grab it.
“It’s the Magus!”
“Forget him. Too late anyways.”
The rower released the lifeless arm, but in the next second, he found himself in a vice grip of the Magus, a man everyone feared and avoided, the one who now had the look of death about him.
“Let go,” the man shouted, struggling against being dragged into the swirling water.
The Magus, having the bitter heart of the rejected, stared back through eyes dark with rancour. “If I die…Then you all die. Pestilence and famine…”—he choked—“…within the year.”
His grip loosened enough that the man could pull free and regain safety in the boat. He stared in dread as the body slid out of sight.
The rowers exchanged looks, the smell of their fear spreading through the wet air. The Magus’s curse should not be ignored. In silent agreement, they reached below the surface until they found him and hauled him on board, where he lay without any sign of life.
Later, when the rains had stopped and the floods receded, the men from the boat spoke with the Elders, telling them of the curse. The one the Magus had uttered last year ruined their well for months. He’d restored the water only after all of his demands had been met. Many believed these freakish storms were his work as well, along with the mysterious disappearance of several villagers. This time, the village faced pestilence and famine since they’d failed to save the Magus’s life.
“We cannot survive,” one Elder said.
“Perhaps there is a way,” another said, and all eyes locked onto the tall figure of the Elder known as Tor. “Mistress Mayhew.”
Those gathered around him drew in a sharp collective breath.
“Surely, not the Necromancer.” A murmur, barely audible, but laden with centuries of village superstition, hushed its way throughout the gathering.
Mistress Mayhew was the one people turned to when in dire and immediate need of help. She was also costly, but that was because she never failed to call forth the dead and achieve the results her clients needed.
It was decided that Tor should deliver the message to Mistress Mayhew. It had been his idea, after all, and he was the most prominent Elder in the village.
“Of course,” he said, and, gathering his cloak around his shoulders, he made his way to the Mayhew cottage.
Mistress Mayhew didn’t have clairvoyant powers. She didn’t need them. Crofton Village had a gossip network that outstripped any mind-reading talent. So when Elder Tor arrived, she was prepared to tell him…
“Absolutely, not.”
“But, Mistress, you know what he is capable of. Is there no way—”
“Of course, there is a way, but it is fraught with danger, more danger than any pestilence or famine.”
Tor paced her small cottage, head down, thinking of how to persuade her to work her dark magic. “The village might never recover. We may lose our lives or the lives of those we love. We will starve.” With a flourish and a plunk, he set a fat purse on her table and then spread the coins so they caught the candlelight. “Think of the children.”
“Generous,” she said. “But I will not take this.” She slid the purse toward Elder Tor. “I love this village and its people. You may keep your coins, and I will help you.”
So she did what her common necromancer sense told her not to do. She dragged the Magus’s spirit from the underworld, bound it, used it to reverse the curse, and cast it back into the darkness.
The following summer saw bountiful crops. The villagers grew plump eating fresh bread and butter. The fruit trees bore an abundance of apples, pears, and plums. The laughter of children filled the streets, but Mistress Mayhew didn’t join in the fairs or parties the villagers held to celebrate their good fortune.
If someone had been paying attention, they might have noticed that she was seldom seen anywhere after dark, and, after that business with the Magus, she never walked the path that took her past the graveyard.
Then winter descended, and in the tenth month, the veil between the underworld and the world of the living thinned to breaking.
Part 2, Next Wednesday
AMAZON . BARNES & NOBLE . SMASHWORDS . KOBO
Calista Moonwater is the main character in That Moonwater Witch. When she discovers Amara’s, her great-grandmother's, diary, she sets out to decipher its cryptic messages. They’re important, but she doesn’t have a clue why.
Calista ran her finger over the oddly spelled word, magyk . She was curious about why Amara had written it in this way here. She read on.
Harm no one.
Listen to the earth and her creatures. The earth will guide you onto the right path. Her creatures will counsel you into right action.
The ghosts that cling to it will have needs. Prepare for your part in setting them free from longing and old regrets.
Be true to yourself and honest in your dealings with others.
Be alert to any signs of The Vengeance. It will not be what is foretold.
Calista stopped at that last line. The Vengeance? Surely this didn’t have anything to do with that ridiculous myth about the giant perched atop the mountain ready to swoop down if any dared enter his domain. She wished she understood what this so-called Vengeance was really about.
Unfortunately, she will understand, and that’s only going to put her and everyone she loves in terrible danger.
Hope to see you next Wednesday!
Great story! Can't wait until next Wednesday.
Love the cover of your new book.
Lee, you have a wonderful talent of drawing us in and then leaving us hanging and wanting more! Well done.