The Witch of the Glen: The Journey Continues

The girl made her way through the busy town, her thoughts on the reason she had decided to leave Seth McFarland sleeping and hurry on the errand she had assigned herself.

She intended to speak to Jarek Greyling about leasing the small cottage that once had been her domain while she had lived in this place. She noted it was not inhabited upon her arrival to these shores, or it had appeared so from a distance.

Excitement bubbled inside the girl. It would be inappropriate to share Seth’s home from this day forth. It was inappropriate to share his home this day, of course but...well, she did not regret the afternoon at all.

The thought made her blush with a subdued secrecy shared only with Seth McFarland. The very thought of the man caused her blood to heat were she honest with herself. Time in his bed had only heightened the sensation.

She pulled up short, for some rude person having suddenly blocked her path.

She gasped slightly, moving back politely. “...Excuse me.” Her tone implied he was the one who should be issuing such a comment.

Hester made to go around the tall individual, but he stepped yet again, his smirk alerting her to a possible problem on the horizon.

“...Please get out of my way.” She indicated the small stretch of wooden planked sidewalk available for people to use outside the stretch of businesses lining this side of the town. “I wish to be about my business, if you do not mind.”

The man stared oddly down at her, something in his eyes making Hester most uneasy.

To make matters worse, two other men, coming from inside a local establishment, joined the first, surrounding the girl on any and all sides.

Hester sensed from their expressions...she had done something to which they had taken offense. She could not think what but...

“Is there a problem here?” She attempted a forced politeness for once. “M-May I help you with something? I am a healer.”

“That is not all you are.” The first man sneered to his companions. “Not after coming from McFarland’s home.”

That reference...Hester understood.

“What were you doing in there all this time, one could ask.”

“Colin Dilliard, that is none of your concern, surely.” The smaller of the men chastised superficially. “But even so...we can all guess at what she was doing, can we not.”

“Oh, I know well what McFarland does to the women he takes in that place, Sullivan. We all do.” It was pleasantly granted. “Pardon lady, for my crudeness.” He bowed mockingly.

“McBeevy, mayhap we should just allow her go.” The man who spoke now seemed overly nervous and antsy, for he kept continually glancing about. “Come on, Colin. There is more sport to be had at Maude Higgins.”

‘Colin’ shrugged off the guiding hand. “I like...this sport.”

“Yes but, McFarland will not take kindly to...that is to say...”

“McFarland does not frighten me as he seems to you.” Colin Dilliard’s mood turned cold and angry. “Do you want a piece of this...” He motioned to Hester Hughes. “Or not. She is here for the taking, you ass. Why go all the way to Maude Higgins.”

Hester blanched visibly for such a statement.

“Aye and a more delicious morsel there is not to be found anywhere in this stupid place.” McBeevy stroked Hester’s hair affectionately.

The girl moved jerkily away from his touch.

“McFarland, selfish bastard that he is...will always take the choice bits for himself.” Colin agreed, his eyes raking Hester’s form insolently.

Hester swallowed her fear. She had never been confronted by such open hostility before.

Even Angus McGavin, while openly critical and accusing, kept a more civil approach to the girl herself. Accusing more Jarek Greyling, than the ‘witch’, at least to Hester’s face.

The giant was often scowling and upset, true...and he gave Hester pause for thought but...these men!

They were different. They clearly were taking great pleasure in confronting the girl personally, in attacking the foundation of Hester’s moral compass...and the girl herself.

This situation was new, intimidating the girl. But like everything in life, Hester decided to attempt to bluff her way through.

She lifted her head, facing the threat head on. “...Have you nothing better to do than accost innocent females? What sort of men are you?” She disdained. “Make way! I have business to which I must attend.”

“We know what ‘business’ you attended to this afternoon, do we not.” The male known to Hester as Colin Dilliard, sneered his contempt, his breath smelling of stale whiskey and something putrid the girl did not even wish to analyze.

The crude remark garnered salacious snickers from his two companions.

Hester blinked her shock for such torrid accusations spoken so plainly aloud. She flushed heatedly.

“Nor was there anything ‘innocent’ in the doing.”

Cruel laughter rang out as the obvious leader of the pack stepped decidedly closer, his gaze blatantly sexual in nature as it raked Hester’s young body. “You can no longer lay claim to that title after even a few minutes in Seth McFarland’s bed, can she now, lads.”

His friends were consulted with a leering grin.

Hester lowered her eyes, her mind shutting down. She searched the faces of those gathered, watching the scene develop.

Most had stopped their usual activities, the men doing nothing but standing about.

The women were more sympathetic to Hester’s plight, but none wished to antagonize her tormentors more than they already seemed to be.

“Move out of my path you pathetic excuse for what-ever-it-is you are.” Hester’s own temper flared. “I shall inform his Lordship of your transgressions!”

“His Lordship...” The smallest of the group, one Sullivan McBeevy mocked her statement. “Is already aware of ‘your’ transgressions, I dare say. He probably has sampled them himself.”

Hester’s flush darkened.

“No.” A decidedly masculine response halted any further exchange of words.

Hester was never so grateful to see the new arrival that had appeared just now sauntering down the pathway from the Great House on the hill.

Astrid Greyling was on her husband’s arm, looking regally lovely this day.

Hester breathed a sigh of relief, her heart’s rapid beating settling somewhat.

“But...you three are about to ‘sample’ a reckoning long since overdue.” Jarek’s quietly intimidating stare settled on Hester’s antagonists. “I should make m’ peace with m’ maker were I you lot.”

Heads swirled to Greyling’s meaning for Seth McFarland himself was stalking down the middle of the main street, the man’s face etched with a murderous rage.

“Healer...” Jarek held out his hand. “Come to me...now.”

Hester pulled her wide eyes from Seth’s rapidly advancing presence, obediently moving slowly from her tormentor’s vicinity, her gaze sweeping the suddenly ashen faces of those very men.

Seth slowed his steps, taking in the situation with sagely knowledgeable eyes. He scanned Hester’s white pallor, the large stricken gaze.

“I...I am well, Seth.” She forced a smile. “There is no trouble now.” She made to go to the man but Jarek’s gentle hand closed over her forearm. She glanced at its hold.

Seth’s eyes shifted, the icy coldness training on the three individuals across the way. He stepped...closer.

“W-We were just having a bit of a go, that is all.” Sullivan McBeevy was no longer smiling, a nervous energy palpating about the small man. “...twas only a bit of fun we were having. No real harm was meant.”

Seth’s gaze never wavered but it did darken two-fold.

“...There are three of us, McFarland.” Colin Dilliard was not about to back down with the entire village looking on.

The man was well muscled, Hester noted, with a dangerous looking scar running the entire length of his right cheek. It gave him an appearance of what Hester imagined Satan might look like if ever confronted in the dark bowels of Hell.

Seth laughed lowly, a sinister sound which edged along Hester’s body.

“Well, what did you think your actions would bring?” Colin motioned curtly to the young girl standing so gravely quiet beside Greyling and his wife. “What man present does not assume she is fair game to any and all...now...after your handling of the matter.”

“Is that what you assume, you fucking bastard of a fucking whore mother?” Seth moved ever so slowly, edging even closer to the three men, Hester noted with alarm.

“My Lord!” She beseeched Greyling assist somehow.

“He needs no assistance, Lass.” Greyling grinned rather lackadaisically, to Hester’s stunned shock.

“No.” Astrid’s lovely face allowed a cold disdain directed to the men who stood now, having to face the result of their actions. “He does not.”

“Three of us!” Colin moved back, licking nervous lips. “Three!...Against one!”

Seth moved, his arm extending rapidly from his side, the action one of minimal waste of energy.

Hester could not follow the train of events which happened next.

McBeevy’s body seemed to convulse with a sudden jerk and the man staggered back, his eyes wide and fearful. He glanced down, his mouth agape.

Hester gasped audibly as she witnessed the red stain spread out over the man’s chest, his clothing slowly drenched with the flow.

Hester stared in horror as her senses realized what had taken place. She stood, however, immobile, simply...watching matters unfold.

McBeevy clutched the hilt of Seth’s knife in trembling fingers, staring down at the protruding blade which had entered his heart straight on.

The man struggled to pull the object from its snug grip...his eyes wide with shock and dismay.

He sought out Seth McFarland, a stunned, disbelieving gasp escaping his lips before he fell hard to his knees, the blade slipping from his hands, falling into the dirt of the street.

McBeevy uttered an articulate grunt, his entire body slanting backward, his head hitting the walking boards of the sidewalk which neatly lined the businesses behind the developing scene as he fell.

Hester instinctively moved to offer aid but an even larger obstacle stepped leisurely in her path.

She lifted an astonished stare.

“Nay, girl.” Torsten Lindstrom shook his head. “Tis not done yet.”

Hester turned anguished eyes Seth’s way.

“Now...” The man’s attention was elsewhere, however. “...there are...two.”

The ominous statement hung in the still of the air which encompassed the entire village suddenly.

“I dinna mean any disrespect, man!” The man who had remained silent throughout the entire proceedings and who Hester did not know...stepped forward, beseeching Seth to see reason. “I dinna touch her! I was nay a part of it! None of it! You must believe me!”

“You did not stop them either...did you.” Seth stared sullenly at the man, his tone saying it all.

The man approached having sent Colin Dilliard a scathing glance. “You know how he gets when he has had the drink. I would have stopped them had anything serious...”

Seth stepped to meet his advancement, his movements deliberate and calculated.

The large giant of a man grasped his opponent, who cried out for the sudden unexpected action, but the objection was cut short when Seth’s powerful arms encircled the man’s neck, one sure jerk snapping the spinal cord effortlessly.

Seth stepped back, allowing the dead weight to fall from his clutches.

Hester cringed at the horrible sound of bones disconnecting but more so the sickening garble of pain the smaller man had emitted directly before having fallen heavily to the ground by Seth’s feet.

She stared at the still body, which was now crumbled unnaturally in the middle of the street, legs and arms akimbo.

Her body tensed with a shudder of revulsion, but she found, she could not look away

Seth lifted a stony stare. “And then...” The grey eyes settling contentedly on the last remaining man. “...there was...one.”