Dragon Bait

I stared out of the window, frightened, as the torch bearing mob slowly made its way to our humble cottage set near the edge of the forest. They trampled through our garden, over which Mother and I had so painstakingly watered and tended for what food we could grow for our table.

"Mother!" I half-spoke, half-shouted, the panic clearly heard. "They're getting closer!"

"I know child, hush," Mother said as she came down the stairs. "There is no need to worry; these people have known us for years. Perhaps they shall listen to reason." She spoke calmly, but I could still detect a glimmer of unease in her green eyes, so similar to mine.

"But Mother - "

"Hush," she said again, setting down a knapsack she had brought from our room upstairs. It looked a little bulky, like Mother had already filled it full of things from upstairs. She quickly grabbed our last loaf of bread and some cheese and placed them inside the knapsack. "Here," she thrust it at me, "Hold this and stay here."

I took it, confused. As I looked at it, the light bulb finally clicked on. I looked back up at her, alarmed, but it was too late. Mother had already strode out the door in her confident way, no sign of fear. I quickly scrambled back to the window and peeked out of it. The mob had stopped in a semicircle, trapping us, making the house our only escape route.

"Good evening, friends," Mother said, projecting her voice so that everyone could clearly hear her. "What brings you here at this late hour?"

An ominous silence fell over the crowd. The new priest from the capital shoved his way forward through the crowd to meet her steady gaze head on. "You have been declared guilty of witchery," he said, the words hanging in the air.

Inside the house I gasped, the sound nearly inaudible.

"On what grounds?" Mother asked, a steely note entering her tone. I could just imagine her face -eyes narrowed, mouth pursed, nose a little ways up in the air; it was the same face she gave to anyone who dared to condescend her or question her morals. A single woman living alone with a daughter at the edge of a forest like this tended to get a lot of snide comments.

The priest shifted a little on his feet as he met her gaze. "We have several witnesses who have testified that they have seen you doing spells and talking to animals."

"That's ridiculous," Mother scoffed. "Everyone talks to their animals. And who here has supposedly seen me doing spells? Let them step forward and tell me so to my face." She swept the crowd with her steely gaze, one eyebrow raised.

No one moved. The priest looked around him angrily at the lack of defiance in this crowd towards the so-called witch, who had belonged to the town for years. Now that the moment had come, no one really felt like being the first to blame her. The priest's gaze fell on someone in the middle, and he waved him forward with jerky movements. Geoffrey, the town baker, stepped forward nervously.

"Well... I - uh, well, I - s-saw her doin' spells and d-dancing naked in the moonlight on the f-full moon," he stuttered, growing a little bolder towards the end of his accusation. A small silence met his statement at first, but it was not to last.

With that one accusation, the floodgates were opened and the rest came pouring through.

"I saw her mumbling something just before Ol' Jimmy uped and kicked the bucket!"

"She made a voodoo doll, I saw it with my own eyes, and she used it on Farmer Fulson! When he wouldn't give her a lower price for the vegetables!"

And more came too. Cries that she was the one single-handedly behind every accident, malady, sickness that had ever visited the town since we had arrived.

Throughout it all my Mother stood tall and proud, never wavering, never showing any expression save for the calm look on her face, even when friends we'd known for years turned their backs on us.

And then came a voice, "Enough!"

At first, I thought that a savior had finally come, and that we'd be saved from this horrible nightmare. But alas, it was. It was the priest that had started all of this, and it looked like he wasn't finished yet either.

He stood in front of the mob, in the no-man's land between us and them. His hands were raised and he was facing them. "Good people of this town, do you think that there is reasonable evidence that this woman here is a witch?"

Everyone nodded vigorously, some even shouting 'Yes!', each betrayal like a stab to the heart. These people were my friends; I had grown up with them, they had seen me grow up. How could they do this to us?

My eyes stayed glued to Mother, wanting for her to do something, anything about what was happening. But she did nothing except stand there, her head held high. Maybe she had realized how futile it was, in front of this crowd that was getting whipped into a frenzy by that dratted priest.

I was scared.

Suddenly the priest stopped and turned back to Mother. Raising a hand and pointing it at her he shouted, "Who will take this woman to be sentenced?"

The crowd surged forward and I let out a scream of terror. Mother turned her head, just enough to see me, and mouthed, "Run."

So I ran. I ran out through the back door, the noises and sounds of the crowd behind me. I could hear shouts of "There's the girl!" and "After her!" behind me, which only served to spur me on faster. I ran straight to the woods, the knapsack bouncing heavily on my back with each step. I paused only once, at the very edge. There I took one quick glance back to see what was going on back at the house and what I saw made my heart stop.

The house was already on fire, Mother was nowhere to be seen, and while part of the mob was heading back to the town, the other part was now coming after me.

So after one last look at my home of the last 15 years, I turned back to the forest and plunged headfirst into its wild and untamed depths.