Something Wild (Child of the Winter Moon Book 1)

10: The Witch of Midcopse

Geralt dismounted when he arrived in Midcopse. The villagers largely ignored him, which was fine by him. He could listen to the conversations around him better without someone bothering him. He led Roach through town until he heard two women talking about a woman who had recently arrived that had been helping the village with various problems.

"What's a witch with no grey on her head?" an older woman who was sweeping off her front steps said. "Not much likely to be inside it."

"For one who never sees her," a younger woman scrubbing clothes against a washboard replied. "You seem to know a heap about her."

"I know what they say. Don't care much meself, but when folk talk, I listen."

Geralt approached her as the other woman turned to hang the laundry.

"Should send him back to the witch," she complained. "Might cure him of laziness."

"Greetings, ma'am," Geralt said to gain her attention.

The woman stopped. "Don't hear that much from the young'uns these days."

It was rare for someone to call him young. Many times they would see his white hair and assume he was an old man. Even though he would be considered one by human standards.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Got a matter for your village witch. Know where I can find her?"

"I don't bother with her meself, but ask my man, he'll know. Twerked his back so bad last week he could hardly move. So I sent him to the witch. Came back sprightly as a foul."

"Where is he?"

She motioned around the house. "Pain's gone, but sloth's set in now. Should be huntin' foxberries to feed our young'uns. Marian's lad, now that man, he knows how to provide for his family. Caught some water rats last week, they had food for days."

"Thank you, ma'am." Geralt went around the house to find a man leaning against the fence. "Good day. Heard you know where to find the local witch."

"Who told you that?"

"Your wife."

"Daft wench. Leave me be and don't listen to that natterin' sow. We've not had a witch, shaman, nor cunning wench in ages."

Geralt felt he was protecting her for some reason and cast Axii with practiced fingers. "You sure? Give it a think."

"Won't take no for an answer, will ye? All right. Know the small pond near the village?"

Geralt nodded, having passed it on the way into town.

"Path leads off from it. Follow that until you come to a lone rock. Walk around that, into the woods. Find the old cart, you're there."

"Thanks." Geralt started to turn away.

"It's just... don't hurt her, sir. Word of your kind has reached these parts."

Geralt looked puzzled. "My kind?"

"The witch burning kind."

Geralt realized the villager thought he was a witch hunter. "Witch hunters have been here already?"

"Nay, but we've heard tell of them. So when I spied you coming, swords and all, straightaway I thought tales must be true."

"I'm a Witcher, not a witch hunter."