The Green Witch

Chapter Twenty Six

     Tala staggered in fear and almost fell. She spun around and searched the leafy canopy above her and there she was; the ghostly outline of the ancient woman she'd seen in the cottage. She tried to back away but found herself frozen to the spot. The Crone was using a Compulsion against her.

     <My man Bronn is on his way,> the ancient witch added. <He's pretty angry with your Knight for the death of his dad. He's looking forward to paying him back for that. And when he's done that he's going to collect you and bring you back to me. The circles are still here, waiting for you. All they need is a little more blood to freshen them up.>

     Tala almost didn't hear her words, though. She was too busy trying to move, to get away. Her limbs refused to obey her, though, and she could only stand there as if waiting patiently for a friend to arrive. Somewhere nearby she heard Gareth chasing after her but then all sounds of motion from that direction ceased to be replaced by the sounds of a man walking across a carpet of fallen leaves. Bronn, Tala knew. And Gareth was hiding from him. He knew he wouldn't stand a chance against the witch's servant in his present condition so he was lying flat on the ground, hoping that the scant undergrowth would hide him from the other man's sight. It was only a fool's hope, though, as the Knight must have known. It was only a matter of time before he was found.

     And then Bronn would come for her. He would blindfold her as she stood paralysed by the Crone's Compulsion and tie her hands with a thin strip of leather, making sure it was too tight for her invisible hands to undo. And then he would lead her helplessly back to the cottage where the Crone would resume her interrupted ceremony, this time with no-one to save her.

     Panic tried to take control of her. She wanted to beg and plead for her life, even though she knew it would be useless. She sensed sympathy from the Crone, which terrified her even more. The older witch clearly felt that her soul was as good as in the younger woman's body already and that there was nothing left to do but wait for her manservant to avenge his father's death.

     Something within Tala rebelled, though. She wouldn't just give up. It wasn't within her to do so. The witch was more powerful than she was, it was true, but she was also old. Was it possible that her ancient heart wouldn't be up to a strenuous effort? Might she just drop dead if the effort proved to he too much? It was a small hope but it was all she had. She took a moment to gather her strength, therefore, and then tried to move with all her might.

     It was hopeless. It was as if her limbs were made of stone, and she sensed that it would be the same no matter how much strength she had. <That's right,> the Crone confirmed as if sensing her thoughts. <The strength of the body is useless against the strength of the spirit. Struggle all you want. I can hold you here for as long as I need to.>

     Tala felt a bright burst of new hope, though, as the Crone's words gave her an idea. She had strength of the spirit too. She was also a witch, just like the Crone. She looked upwards at where the Crone's astral form still hovered above her and opened her Eyes that Bite.

     She hadn't known whether the Eyes would work against a purely spiritual opponent, but to her delight the Crone drew back in shock and surprise. She recovered quickly, though, and rushed forward again. <You dare?> she hissed, suddenly angry, but Tala imagined that there was a trace of fear in there as well. <You think you can use your green Eyes against me? Against me?>

     The Crone's Compulsion vanished, to be replaced by invisible hands that wrapped around the younger woman like a snake, making her feel as if she were being crushed by a giant fist. She ignored the pain and intensified her own attack, putting more force into her eyes than she ever had before. The Crone gasped in pain and fury. <You fool!> she said, her ephemeral eyes blazing with anger. <I can crush the life out of you with the slightest effort.>