Witchcraft

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Tales of Nightshade: Curse of Job (Part Three)

Posted by LediaR on February 28, 2013
Posted in: Creative Writing, Dark Fantasy, Fantasy, Horror, Ledia Runnels, Magic, Magic Book, Novella Excerpt, Witch Hunter. Tagged: , , , , , . Leave a comment

Full Moon

(Photo found at this site: http://www.stargazing.net/david/moon/moonrise20050917.html)

Druzelle stood in the garden outside the Earl of Campbell’s manor house.  With a swish of her hand, she became the image of Sarah, the Earl’s housekeeper.  Quietly, she made her way into the dwelling.

As Druzelle passed through a hallway, she happened by a rather dusty cupboard.  “Tsk, Tsk what an untidy maidservant you are, Sarah, dear,” she remarked while running a genteel finger through the grime.

Dusting her hands together, Druzelle found herself heading down still another passageway.  Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks as a chill swept up her spine.  Just inside one of the rooms sat the traitorous witch, Yulricka.

Druzelle quickly stepped from view.  “What is she doing here with one who hangs witches?”  Druzelle stood perfectly still, not wanting to continue past the room.  Yulricka was a malcontent in the witch community and possessed a strong telepathic power, though that is about all the witchcraft she did posses; Druzelle feared the other might have the cognizance to see through her disguise.

With quick side steps, Druzelle turned to head down an adjacent passageway.  Then she spied something on the floor.  Reaching down, Druzelle drew up a miniature silver locket.  Crushing the fragile necklace against her chest, she whispered.  “Surely this is the same one that Luena always wears.”

Quickly, Druzelle ducked down the other passage that led to the larder.  There, she surmised would surely be servants from which she could hear the manor tattle and perhaps find out something concerning Luena.

Druzelle stood outside the manor house once again.  “Ignorant peasants!” she howled.  “All they can talk about is how high the bread has risen and if snow will come early to the fields.  Not a one of them has any good gossiping skills.  They are, undoubtedly, the most boring bunch of old crones I have ever seen.  Humph!”  In a flash, the rotund witch vacated the premises.

Druzelle laid the tiny necklace in Brunda’s outstretched hand.  Casting another temporal displacement spell, the two watched the vision of Yulricka jerking the locket from Luena’s neck and tossing it to the floor.  The scene faded as the little girl and her assailant moved away from the necklace.

Brunda’s eyes narrowed to slits.  “I’ll see that witch become jackal tidbits!”

Eagerly, Druzelle put in. “At least now we know who was responsible for Luena’s capture.”

“Yes we do,” Brunda continued to speak in low, sinister intonations. “When I get my hands on that…” Without finishing her words, Brunda strode across to her work table, where sat her sleeping crystal ball.  “I have been trying to find Luena within its depths all day.  It must be Yulricka’s doing that no image of the child can be found.”

Druzelle began to wring her hands ruefully.  “What shall we do now?  How do we avert Yulricka’s magic?”

“I’m not afraid of that traitorous bag o’bones!”  Brunda thundered.  “Once the moon’s golden fingers touch Luena, she will be able to tell us where she is.  We must not underestimate the child’s power, Druzelle!”  Then Brunda chuckled to herself.  “Yes, Yulricka will wish that she had never tangled with us.”

(Continued…  https://creativemusingsoflediar.wordpress.com/2013/03/02/tales-of-nightshade-curse-of-job-part-four/)

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Tales of Nightshade: Curse of Job (Part One)

Posted by LediaR on February 26, 2013
Posted in: Creative Writing, Dark Fantasy, Horror, Magic, Magic Book, Novella Excerpt, Witch. Tagged: , , , , , . Leave a comment

Basket of Herbs

(Photo found at this site:<http://corgyncombecourant.blogspot.com/2011/02/corgyncombe-herbary.html&gt;)

It was one of those crystal mornings.  A crisp, cool breeze fell against Luena’s face and rustled her golden hair as the sky above her shone so blue that it hurt her eyes.  She knew she should not be wasting time daydreaming; Brunda would not approve.  But the day was so glorious; Luena just could not help herself.

Her basket of herbs was not half full, a touch of contrition squeezed at her heart, but that was soon forgotten when the sound of a bird drew her attention.  She found herself following the small cardinal as it flitted from tree branch to tree branch, her task of gathering herbs for the week’s lessons totally forgotten.

A patch of clover spread out in the field before Luena.  She stopped in her pursuit and knelt beside the pungent herbs and reached out to caress the diminutive pink blossoms that grew among them.

A sudden pandemonium broke the tranquillity of the morning causing Luena’s small head to rise.  Within moments, she was surrounded by a band of horsemen.  Before she could give a cry of alarm, one of the hulking brutes reached down and clasped his dirty hand across her mouth.

Hot tears sprang to Luena’s eyes and instinctively, she sank her teeth into the meaty palm.  With his free hand, the man delivered the child a stinging slap across the face.  Luena crumpled, her small body racked with sobs…

Brunda peered out the window.  This was the third time in a week that Luena had been late completing her chores.  “Why did I ever believe I had the patience to apprentice such a young child, or anyone for that matter?”  The old witch said to Mandrake, who dozed lazily on a wooden chair.  He turned a yellow-green eye in Brunda’s direction, dampened one paw and began stroking his ears.  He paused in mid-stroke to perk up his ears, as if he heard something; then he went back to washing.

“Better go and check on her.  It is getting late and we need to start work on her lessons before the day is gone.”  The old sorceress seized her broom and was out the door with Mandrake close behind.

Brunda flew across the meadow, searching for signs of the little girl.  She soon spied Luena’s gathering basket in a crushed bed of clover and swerved toward it.  Landing her broom, Brunda noticed that the basket lay beyond the invisible wall that hid her land from outsiders.

“Now where has that child gotten to?  Luena!”  The old woman cried in vexation.  She shot a glance toward Mandrake. “Haven’t I told her time and time again not to go beyond the protective barrier?” Steadying herself, Brunda stretched forth her hands, reciting a temporal displacement spell, and waited.

(Continued… https://creativemusingsoflediar.wordpress.com/2013/02/28/tales-of-nightshade-curse-of-job-part-two/)

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Tales of Nightshade: Daughter of the Silvery Moon (Part Three)

Posted by LediaR on February 23, 2013
Posted in: Creative Writing, Dark Fantasy, Fantasy, Horror, Ledia Runnels, Magic, Magic Book, Novella Excerpt, The :Life of a Freelance Writer, Witch. Tagged: , . 1 Comment

Black Bird

“No, she was not really a witch! Have those imbeciles been right even once? And even if she was, she hadn’t done anything to them. I swear they are trying to wipe out the entire village! It has gotten so bad, I have decided to go back to my inn and abandon the whole lot of them!”

Brunda studied her sister while rubbing long fingers across her own knotted chin. “And what of this tyke that you’ve brought to my house? Do you plan on taking her with you when you go?”

Druzelle smiled congenially. “Well, that’s where I need your help, sister dear.”

Brunda’s response was a cutting, “hurumph!”

Undaunted, Druzelle continued. “It will take me several days to set things up at the inn. In the meantime I need to leave Luena somewhere secure. She certainly is not safe back in that town with those bloodthirsty savages running rampant!”

A frown creased Brunda’s face. The look in her green flecked brown eyes was not a welcoming one.

“What am I going to do with the child? I’m not the motherly type and have no wish to be so!”

“Brunda, the poor little thing has no where else to go,” Druzelle spoke beseechingly. “I could take her with me, but until the inn is in order, there is just no place for her there. I’ll be living in a crude, grass hovel and in Luena’s state of mind, I do not think that is the best place for her.”

Luena had heard every word. Brunda’s reluctance to keep her cut at her heart. She would rather stay in the grass hovel with the sweet tempered Druzelle than with the ill-tempered Brunda. But Luena did not voice her misgivings. She merely sighed and gazed down at her hands. Perhaps it didn’t matter where she was; the ache in her heart was so overwhelming the less she did in any capacity, the less she felt.

Luena sat statue-like in the wooden chair where Druzelle had left her hours before. The only sign that the little girl was still alive came from the steady rhythm of her breathing and an occasional blink of her eyes. She stared toward a bowl of porridge that Brunda had sat in front of her for lunch and watched, as it became ice cold. Her stomach rumbled terribly, but Luena did not have the strength of will to reach out and pick up the spoon.

Brunda quickly lost patience with the child when she would not even try to eat.  The old woman stalked off in a huff to, “be about her business.”  Adding that she hoped Luena wouldn’t just sit there and starve to death.  “Druzelle will not be happy if she comes back to collect a pile of dried up flesh and bones!”

(Continued… https://creativemusingsoflediar.wordpress.com/2013/02/24/tales-of-nightshade-daughter-of-the-silvery-moon-part-four/)

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Tales of Nightshade: Nightshade (Part Two)

Posted by LediaR on February 17, 2013
Posted in: Creative Writing, Dark Fantasy, Fantasy, Horror, Ledia Runnels, Magic, Magic Book, Novel Excerpt, Witch. Tagged: , , , , , . 1 Comment

Black Cat(Photo taken from http://tinyurl.com/cendnw6)

At high moon rise, a cup of grog steamed on the splintered tabletop. Beside it, Brunda gazed passed a massive book of magic that lay opened in front of her. Her eyes fixed on the black nothingness that occupies a mind deep in thought.

“Fie!” she shrieked. “None of these spells will do.” Her fist came down hard against the tabletop. The grog and its cup spun against the wooden floor.

Brunda caught Mandrake up onto her shriveled lap. “Once the deed is done, there must be no clue to draw attention this way. But so far, I have found no methodology that will insure this.”

A sudden rap at her door jerked Brunda’s thoughts awry. A frown creased her withered face. Thin lips tightened grimly as she rose to draw back the latch.

In the golden moonlight stood Magwa, the head witch of the local coven. With a rude gesture, Brunda showed her in. Magwa swept past the other enchantress with a crackle of black linen. Brunda grit her teeth at the hateful sound.

Magwa turned her glacial gaze upon her hostess. “You know, Brunda, I never choose to meddle in your business. But it has come to my attention; all the coven’s request cards for your special herbs are being returned to them, charred to ashes. Can you tell me that not one of our assembly is worthy of receiving your mark of agreement? You know, I am merely concerned that something is … troubling you.”

A cold rod of anger bit through Brunda. You are a busybody from way back, Magwa Witch! She kept her feelings to herself, not from fear of the other’s wrath, but because her business was her own. She said aloud, “It is nothing! I just choose not to be disturbed at this time.”

Magwa’s red eyes narrowed to slits, two flaming orbs that stared sidelong. Grim determination was apparent on her homely face. Her burning curiosity was so blatant that it came as no surprise when Magwa arrogantly chose to challenge Brunda’s power.

“I hear even your own sister received a pile of ashes when she sent out her card.”

An irritated click fell from Brunda’s tongue. “Druzelle has gotten soft living in that village. She spends her time giving out love potions to sad eyed youths and belladonna as a cosmetic to charmless girls. She has forgotten what being a witch is all about. I’ve no time to waste on her!”

“Yes, yes I can see how living too close to Christian folk could prove an undesirable thing.” Magwa reached up to stroke her knotted chin.  “Have you heard about the witch hunts and burnings? It’s not safe to be suspect.”

Brunda guffawed. “Those fools are burning their own kind. Nary a real witch did they catch and put to their ridiculous tests and nary a one will if the witch keeps hers wits!”

Magwa nodded. Her expression was searching, trying to interpret every gesture Brunda made for a clue to what the herb witch was really thinking.

Brunda saw through Magwa like gauze. She clicked her tongue once more in aggravation.

Magwa jerked of her head toward the door. “I’m leaving now, Brunda,” she croaked. “but we shall all see you at the Sabbat, on All Hallows’ Eve.” The head witch’s words were not posed as a question.

The impertinent wretch! Brunda fumed.

A flash of smoke appeared as Magwa turned to go. But an invisible force held her frozen in place.

Brunda’s strident voice cut through. “Don’t forget, Magwa they asked me first to fill the role of head witch and I turned it down.” Brunda’s eyes burned into the other ones. “I shall be at the Sabbat, but only because it suits me.”

The invisible grip released. Magwa found herself sailing pell mell through the opened door. A puff of fowl-smelling, green mist was all that remained of her presence in the herb scented room. A wry grin spread across Brunda’s face as she watched the rank vapors swirl and vanish. With a wave of her hand, she slammed the door shut. She turned toward her table of books and flasks of dried herbs.

(Continued…https://creativemusingsoflediar.wordpress.com/2013/02/18/tales-of-nightshade-nightshade-part-three/)

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