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The Witch Hunter's Tale(29)

By:Sam Thomas


Of course Martha rejected all such arguments, and I could see that she wanted nothing more than to dispute them with George. But this was hardly the time or place for her to contest the finer points of theology with a gentleman. I might tolerate—or even welcome—such tussles, but serious men such as George never would.

When we made our way into the dining hall I marveled at the wealth it displayed. The chair coverings and tablecloth were of a rich red silk, and the golden candle-branch held a dozen or more tapers, which set the room to glowing. The servants refilled our glasses with red wine and we settled into a marvelous meal of roast fowl, beef, and other spiced meats. As we ate, I asked George how the Council meeting had gone.

A sly smile spread across his lips, and he nodded triumphantly. “I was going to save the sweetest news for dessert, but you have forced my hand. We have won, I think. I have bested both your brother Joseph and that harpy Rebecca Hooke. We have nothing to fear from them.”

The three of us stared at George in amazement.

“How is this possible?” I managed at last. “This is wonderful. What did you do?”

George settled back in his chair, clearly pleased by our reaction and enjoying his moment as cock of all the city. “Well, it cost me more money and favors than I’d care to recount, but I convinced a majority of the Aldermen to support a measure against Joseph.”

“What do you mean?” Will seemed no less shocked than I. Could our problems have been solved by a few well-placed bribes?

“I simply offered a new motion to the Council. I agreed that the city faced a dire threat from witches, but pointed out that until we discovered Hester Jackson, neither Joseph nor Rebecca had ever interrogated a witch.” George stopped and smiled beatifically.

“And?” I demanded.

“I suggested that we look outside the city for someone with more experience hunting witches. I convinced the Council to send for a man named Matthew Hopkins. He has led the witch-hunts in the south, and had great success.”

“So Joseph will not oversee the search?” I asked. “And Rebecca is no longer Searcher?” My heart thrilled at the news.

“Aye,” George replied. “And there is more. I had them name you as the city’s Chief Witch Searcher. When Mr. Hopkins arrives, you will be his assistant. You will search the city’s women for the Witch’s Mark.”

Silence settled across the table as George smiled broadly and awaited further praise. Martha and Will looked at me awaiting my reaction. After a moment George’s smile faded and his triumph turned to puzzlement.

“What is it?” he asked. “I should have thought you’d welcome the change.”

“You had me named the city’s Chief Witch Searcher—whatever that is—and you did not see fit to consult me beforehand?” Anger rose within me as I spoke.

“Well, yes,” he said. “But…”

“But nothing. I did not want the position before and I do not want it now. What is more, I do not want you acting on my behalf without consulting me!”

“I did not think you’d object.”

“Obviously not,” I said through clenched teeth. “Obviously you did not think about my wishes at all. Why would I want to become involved in such a bloody business? I am a midwife, George, my work is to bring young souls into the world. I did not learn the art and mystery of that craft so that I could see a gaggle of old women hanged.”

“But you’ve done it before,” George objected.

“No, I haven’t,” I cried. “I questioned Hester Jackson after she’d been convicted. And there is many a mile between talking to a lone witch who cursed her neighbor, and the slaughter that Joseph has proposed. Do you really believe that the city has been overrun by witches? Or that hanging a few dozen old women will convince the Lord to welcome us back into His good graces?”

George stared at me in astonishment. “But you were worried about Joseph and Rebecca.” he said. “And with one shot I felled them both from their perches. I thought you would be grateful.” He said the last of these words with the petulance of child unused to reprimand.

“Grateful that you purchased me a terrible office, George?” I asked. I felt my anger turning to exasperation. “Have I not earned my place in the city through honest work as a midwife? Have I ever traded on my name in such a blatant fashion? Have I ever said that I wanted to be a part of such a hunt?”

George said nothing, choosing instead to stare at the candlelight refracting in crimson through the crystal of his glass.

At that moment I became aware that Martha and Will had witnessed the entire conversation, and I found them staring at us, aghast and unable to speak. We sat in silence for far too long, each of us in desperate search of words that might temper the embarrassment I’d just caused.