The King's Three Sons ONC2023

Olbrecht: Witch

Going into the cottage was something else. As a hovel, it was a tightly cramped room, where a massive stove took up one side and two alcoves: one for the witch's bed and the other held a table with benches.

"Sit, boy."

Olbrecht wanted to argue that he was a man well-grown, but the monster towered over him. From her perspective, he was a child.

She sloshed a full bowl down in front of him as he took off his helm—it smelled edible, and like the military-minded man he was, he ate mechanically, not thinking.

A rat crawled up to his knee. After having so many weird creatures help him, he assumed this would be normal behavior until he was free of this accursed realm, so he fed it a bit of meat from his bowl.

The rat bowed and warned him before running away. "Don't take off the armor to sleep. She will crush you if you do."

What would she do, sit on him?

After finishing his meal, the room began to haze over, the old woman cleaning took on even more gargantuan shapes. Shadows danced in her skirts, crackling in harmony with the fire in the ancient stove. It crashed to a halt when the old woman knocked over a jar of oats with her clothes. Shrieking, she hauled Olbrecht to his feet and tossed him at the grains. "Pick it all up!"

Then she fled out the door.

The rat came back out as soon as the door slammed, tisking at the witch's behavior. "I'm surprised she had enough time to throw you in the pile."

"What was that about?" Olbrecht sat up, still trying to process how he went from nearly sleeping to being on the floor.

"Many monsters are cursed to count every single grain that is spilled. She is very strong to have resisted long enough to flee."

"Fuck, I'm going to have to spill grains all around when the time comes, aren't I?"

"It gave the young men before you half an hour, sir. They are still the bones outside. Go ahead back to the bench and let her herbs lull you to sleep. You'll just get in the way down here."

Never in his life did Olbrecht think he'd be seen as useless by a rodent. It was not a pleasant thing.

Still, he did as he was told, for now—putting back on his helmet and pulling the visor down. He passed out without registering that the witch had drugged him.

~~~

Olbrecht woke to the creaking of his suit of armor, putrid breath beating at the slits in his visor. The barest tips of the fingers were making their way in through the crevice. The creature muttered to itself, "Where are all the soft bits? Is it a healthy fleshing or is it skin and bones? Needs fattening? Ah, should have fed it pig, not bear. Damn codpiece is painful to sit on. I'll beat the next blacksmith I find..."

A sickly-sweet stench filled his lungs as she got up off him, and he couldn't remember a thing more until dawn.

~~~

He sat up after hearing the thud of coarse earthenware on the table as she placed a hearty porridge made of oats and cheese in front of him. Not an ideal combination, but he had eaten worse fare in his travels.

That's when he took off his helm again, to ease his discomfort.

"Here, go milk that cow with this sieve." The witch threw the colander at him, nearly knocking over his meal. "I need to make more cheese."

Olbrecht stared at it, not even responding before the creature flounced out of the hut again. As everything she told him to do had been mostly taken care of by animals, he didn't see the point in getting up until he finished. Besides the bowl had holes in it. Did the witch not own a bucket?