Chapter 1
April 18th, 1633
Somewhere near Versailles, France
“That is the last time you go to the market alone,” Anne shouted from the stone steps of their small cottage neatly tucked away in the heart of the forest. Long curly, red hair glistened in the sunlight as it bounced around her rosy cheeks. Her pale green eyes flashed with a sense of mischief. She stepped down and folded her arms across her chest while shaking her head in exasperation. A thin smirk pulled at her lips as she saw her close friend strolling up the dirt path between the oak and beech trees with a small goat at her side, leading her with a rope.
Sarah smiled wide as she drew closer to their lovely tiny home. She admired it with its thatched roof and windows with their boxes full of spring flowers and herbs. It was uncommon for two young women to live on their own and especially out in the forest where no other townsperson dared to enter. They found refuge in their haven and were at peace with their independence.
Sarah and Anne ran a lucrative barter in the nearby towns where they were able to have more than enough food, water, and supplies. A small creek ran near their cottage, where they had their expansive vegetable garden and fruit orchard. Anne was a skilled huntress and leather craftsman. She would sell her cured meats and armor at the market while Sarah took care of their inventory of herbs and oils. They both cared for the herbal garden and created their own teas and tinctures to aid in the healing of any illness. Since the townspeople were too afraid to travel into the forest, Sarah and Anne would travel to them twice a week to the market to set up shop, much to their competitors’ disdain.
Sarah flipped her brown hair back from her hazel eyes as she made her way closer to the cottage. She was petite in stature and appeared frail, but she was as strong as an ox having had assisted Anne in building their home. The hard labor they had endured together was evident in their rough hands.
“I knew you would say that, but I thought we could use the milk and cheese she provides. Isn’t she adorable?” Sarah questioned while teasing Anne.
Anne glanced over at the black and white creature.
“So now we’ll be selling milk and cheese? I’m sure Lord Cartier will be thrilled that we’ll be even more of a threat to his great village.” Anne rolled her eyes as the little goat bleated. It stirred her heart and made her smile.
“Lord Cartier can kiss my foot. I’m not afraid of that awful man. Maybe he wouldn’t be so hated by his subjects if he would just give them their dues for all the hard work they put into his land. The townspeople are considered nothing more than slaves to him, and he definitely deserves what’s coming to him as soon as I milk this goat and use it to curse him,” replied Sarah.
“Wait a second...what kind of curse are we doing here? You and I both know that the only thing that would hurt him would also hurt his people. We need to think about this seriously and make sure there are no holes in this plan. I don’t want it to backfire on his subjects.” Anne paused as she contemplated Sarah’s words. “You sure did pick the most opportune time for this. Tonight is a full moon, after all. You’ve been planning this for a while, haven’t you?”
“Well, I mean, I was going to tell you eventually.” Sarah looked down at her new goat. “Don’t look at me that way.”
Sarah walked around to the side of the house where a wooden fence had been built. Housed inside the area were a few wandering hens and a rooster. She opened the gate to release the goat as Anne followed behind to continue the conversation.
“Sarah, we promised each other that we wouldn’t try to right any injustices until this whole witch hunt blew over. We are dead in the center of this madness, and we can’t call any undue attention. Do you know how many enemies we have just for being able to take care of ourselves? Lord Cartier would love to see us burned at the stake. Please, let’s just bide our time with this. He’ll get what he deserves without us interfering; I’m sure of it,” Anne stated, positive she was right.
Sarah sighed, taking in Anne’s points, and responded with a grumble.
“As usual, you’re right.” She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “I don’t like sitting back while someone so vile takes advantage of others, and they call us monsters.”
“I don’t like it either, but we can’t help anyone if we’re both dead.” Anne nudged Sarah’s shoulder. “Don’t be down. You want me to shoot him with a stray arrow?”
Laughing, Sarah leaned back and threw her hair over her shoulder.
“No, that won’t be necessary. Soon enough, he’ll get what’s coming to him. Disappointing that we can’t hasten it, but life goes on.” She sighed, reaching down to pick the goat up, stroking her fur as she cooed, “You’re a sweet baby, aren’t you?”
Anne opened the gate to let herself out.
“We have to prepare. I have all the herbs set out on the kitchen table. Was there anything else we needed?” Anne asked as she headed back up the stone steps to the old wooden front door.
“I don’t think so,” Sarah said, reflecting on the items they already possessed. “We made the candles and have the oils.”
“Perfect! I’m going to collect some water from the stream. The sun is already setting, so we should hurry.” Anne rushed inside to collect the basket she had set out previously on the table.
Sarah sat the goat down on the ground and came inside to help Anne. Their cottage was simple and functional. A spacious living quarter contained their humble furnishings of cupboards, chairs, a sturdy oak table, and a blazing hearth nearby. Over it was a kettle of herbal tea brewing made of lavender, chamomile, and lemongrass. It had been concocted to help Anne sleep at night as she was a skilled lucid dreamer, being able to be awake while in the dream world. She also possessed the impressive skill to dreamscape, a helpful divination technique where she could interpret complex dreams to reveal the future.
The window was a wash area for dishes, vials, and bottles that would always need cleaning as they were mainly used for distilling oils and grinding up herbs for medicines and teas. On the other wall was a large bookcase that housed old worn books about remedies, survival guides, stones, alchemy, astronomy, and any other subject that fancied the girls’ interests. A wooden spiral staircase led up to the second floor where they slept, the area resembling a loft. They shared the room with two twin beds side by side and an altar set up near their window where they devoted themselves to their deities. Underneath a floorboard in the bedroom laid their beloved grimoire where they kept their most precious secrets. Tossed in the corner of the room were Anne’s bow and arrow and her boots which she would carry when she went out hunting and scavenging.
Sarah was a skilled diviner and housed her divination tools in a large chest at the foot of her bed. This chest had a beautiful Celtic knot design carved into it that she would often sit and trace over with her finger while in deep meditation.
Anne scooped up the basket of candles, oils, and herbs for their journey. The meadow was located deeper in the forest and was about a mile from their home. It was in a small grove surrounded by thick foliage where they were sure no one could see them.
Sarah went to the closet to retrieve two black cloaks for each of them to wear. It wasn’t cold outside, but it was easier to be discreet under cover of darkness when they appeared as the night. Secrecy was of the utmost importance; although their craft benefitted most everyone around them, the witch hunts were in full swing, and the craze blinded people to the truth—that their medicines were needed.
Sarah hated hiding her craft, but Anne was right; it was for the best. She knew the danger that lurked around every corner and wouldn’t dare let herself be the cause of endangering her friend. The common folk of the village and neighboring city would not see the beauty—would not understand that they simply worked in cycle with the Earth to bring goals into fruition. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the chance to erase the ignorance to ensure a future without religious persecution because of the hysteria sweeping the nation by storm.
“Are you ready?” Anne asked as she slid on her cloak and put her quiver over her shoulder. “I want to get out there before we have a chance to be seen by any stray passerby.”
Anne and Sarah did not take the road to get to their ritual space. Anne was always cautious about hunters in the woods or royal guards who were out scouting. They would follow the stream, but even that could be just as dangerous as being on the road. Sarah and Anne exited the cottage and strode down the path away from their safe haven.
As they walked, Sarah pulled her hood farther down. She kept a knife sheathed to the outside of her thigh, just in case of danger. She didn’t like resorting to violence, but they could never be too careful. Feeling a slight breeze, Sarah wrapped the cloak tighter around her, embracing the scents of nature carried by the wind.
Anne listened intensely to the forest sounds, searching for any rustle of leaves that could be manmade. Her senses were keen to her surroundings as a huntress, her eyes darting over the landscape for any breach. The pair walked along the stream listening to the water bubble over the rocks. Nightfall was approaching. Anne clutched her bow even tighter in preparation. Feeling a creeping sensation along her spine, Sarah turned to Anne.
“I have a strange feeling…” She trailed off, attempting to put words to the emotions that assaulted her.
“I don’t know what, but I feel as though something’s going to happen tonight.”
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and pray for any information that may be revealed to her. It was as if her deities were trying to communicate something significant.
“It’s not just you,” Anne said as she pulled an arrow from her quiver and drew back her bow. “Something is coming this way.”
Suddenly, Sarah could hear the sounds of hooves beating the earth, and it was getting closer. Anne led Sarah behind some brush away from what Anne thought would be the trail the horses and their riders were coming from. Anne sat the basket down next to Sarah, and they waited, concealed in their forest.
“Something’s not right,” Sarah whispered, careful to be quiet. “Whoever that is, they didn’t come here with pure intentions.”
Anne’s pale eyes reflected in the moonlight. “No one ever dares to come this deep into the forest, especially at this hour.”
Sarah closed her eyes, trying to divine the best course of action in this situation. As the hooves approached, she crouched over even farther, feeling almost sick from the energy radiating from whoever, or whatever, was coming their way.
“This is not good, Anne.”
She looked to the moon, praying for guidance and blessings.
Anne put her arrow back into her quiver and rummaged through their basket. She pulled out a container of black sea salt, blessed thistle, and other protective herbs she could find. She gave some of the bottles to Sarah to sprinkle around themselves in their hiding place.
Sarah grabbed a small vial of protection oil from her pocket. She always kept it on her; she dabbed some on her forehead, lips, hands, neck, and wrists before passing the potent oil to Anne, motioning for her to do the same. As soon as Anne finished anointing herself, the horses and their riders stopped just before their hiding place.
Sarah gasped. Anne covered Sarah’s mouth to prevent any more sounds from escaping. The men on the horses were royal guards. There were no less than five of them, and they were accompanying Lord Cartier of the nearby village. Confused, Anne didn’t understand why a Lord would be with royal knights who were supposed to be guarding the King of France. Anne’s stomach twisted into knots as she prayed silently.
“Steady now!” one of the guards shouted to his steed as it came to a halt.
The others stepped down from their horses with a thud. They were all dressed in armor with the royal crest upon their chests. Lord Cartier was in his finest robes of black silk with a golden leaf border along the hem. He wore a regal dark hat with a long feather protruding from it in a pretentious fashion. He was short for a man and quite round with a belly full of greed that disgusted the two girls. As he landed on the ground, he pulled his belt up around his trousers and spit beside him.
“What are we stopping for? The forest isn’t a place for a man such as myself at this time of night!” Lord Cartier walked up to two of the guards with a sour look upon his face.
“We’ve stopped so my men can have a drink of water. Would you like for me to have one of them fetch you some as well?” one of the guards spoke up.
Lord Cartier mumbled under his breath as he turned back to his steed to fetch a leather canteen. He promptly shoved the container into the hands of one of the guards shouting, “Well, fetch me that water!”
Anne and Sarah watched as they noticed the guards becoming more anxious and agitated by their foul treatment. Anne sensed that something else far more sinister was about to take place. As an empath, one who could feel others’ emotions and intentions, she was overwhelmed with the feeling of death and treachery. This was not a coincidental meeting or random stop in the woods under the innocent guise of parched tongues. Sarah shifted her position as she grew weary of crouching, and a twig snapped under the pressure of her weight.
All the men directed their gaze towards the brush in the woods where Sarah and Anne were hiding. A few of the men drew their swords at their hip, silver flashing in the moonlight. Their breath caught in their throats as they stopped breathing, hoping that they had not been discovered.
“What was that? Who’s there?” shouted one of the guards.
Lord Cartier began to snicker, which soon turned into wicked laughter.
“You fools, I told you the forest was no place to stop at this time of night. Don’t you know who lives in these woods? Those blasted witches! They’ve probably already cursed us all. How tragic when the king is expecting to see us safely back to his castle.”
The guards slid their swords back into their sheaths and drew closer to Lord Cartier. The main royal guard, who appeared to be giving the orders, stared at the Lord and smiled.
“My orders were not to take you to the castle at all but to leave you here in the forest to pay for your sins against the royal crown.”
Two of the guards closed in on Lord Cartier, seizing him on either side by the arm. The Lord struggled but was unable to free himself from their expert grasp. Not knowing what to do or how to react to this turn of events, Anne and Sarah stayed hidden and silent.
“What are you doing? What are you talking about? Unhand me at once! I am Lord of this land, appointed by the king himself!” Lord Cartier struggled, tiring himself out as he did so.
The main guard stepped forward, and another guard tied a large rope around the Lord’s feet.
“The king sends his condolences to your family. He knows of your treachery and your greed. He knows you are not keeping your promises with your land taxes and thereby are endangering him and France by not providing your share for your country. He also knows of your attempt to persuade noblemen to increase your status. He has appointed a new Lord who may better care for this land, for the king’s wishes, and who may also know his place.”
“No! You can’t do this! I am his relative—”
“His distant relative,” the guard said, exasperated. “String him up. We have to make this look accordingly.”
The main guard snapped his fingers, and the others threw the rope over a branch of a strong tree. They heaved him up by his feet off the ground. One of the guards tied the end of the rope to the tree to make sure Lord Cartier did not escape his fate.
“You won’t get away with this! My guards are just as loyal!” Lord Cartier shouted as the blood rushed to his face. “You may think you’ve won, Ambroise, but I know who you really are! I created you!”
Anne and Sarah didn’t recognize the name, but they noticed it struck a chord with the main guard. The guard, Ambroise, remained silent. He walked up to the struggling Lord and whispered in his ear. As soon as he finished, he pulled out his dagger and slit Lord Cartier’s throat on the spot. Sarah hugged Anne and turned her face away from the sight in horror. She wanted to make the Lord pay for his misdeeds, but not in this way.
Blood flowed over Lord Cartier’s face into his eyes, dripping from his gray hair to the ground below. He gasped for air that he could not seem to inhale as he suffocated on his own blood. They were bleeding him out like a swine.
“Start setting this place up. We need it to look believable,” Ambroise ordered.
The guards began to carve symbols into the tree Lord Cartier was slowly dying in. These symbols appeared to be runic in nature but were slightly different. It was apparent to Sarah and Anne these people were trying to make this murder look like a pagan sacrifice. This would obviously lead to suspicion about the girls since they were the only known people to live out in the forest in those parts.
Animal skulls from deer, cats, mice, and other creatures were tied to twine and were hung around the corpse. Ambroise stood there staring at the body with his dagger still in hand. He held it up to his face to inspect the blood before wiping the blade with a handkerchief and placing it back in its sheath.
“Now, we are even,” Ambroise said almost inaudibly.
“My Lord,” a guard said hesitantly. “It is finished.”
Ambroise turned around to glance at the guard as if disturbed by his deep thoughts. “So it is. Yes, so it is. Right. We need to be on our way to the castle to inform the king of our deeds. Onward.”
The guards and Ambroise mounted their horses and rode off into the night, leaving Lord Cartier hanging by his feet. The animal skulls knocked into the trees and into each other, giving off a hollow and eerie sound. The girls waited for a few more moments after the sounds of the horses disappeared to make sure they weren’t coming back. They finally stepped out of their hiding spot and into the clearing where Lord Cartier was swaying in the breeze.
“This isn’t right,” Sarah said softly. “I wanted to curse him, but I didn’t want him dead.”
Anne approached him and put her hand in front of his mouth to feel for any breath that may still linger. She then felt for a pulse on his neck but alas could feel no beat. She pulled her hand back and saw the blood on her fingertips. His spirit had left his body, and there was nothing left but an empty vessel.
“He’s gone,” Anne said. “They did this intentionally. They did this to implicate us and every other practicing pagan in the region all because of some unpaid taxes!”
Growing more enraged, Anne pulled her hunting knife from its sheath on her side and sliced through the rope wrapped around the tree. He fell to the ground like a sack of grain and laid there cold and stiff. Sarah came forward and knelt by the dead man before her.
“We must bury him. We need to consecrate his body to the earth so that his spirit may be at peace and rest. He deserves that much since he met a cruel and brutal death. Who is that monster, Ambroise? What did he say to him before he killed him—did you hear?” Sarah, as soft-hearted, as she was towards all living creatures, felt tears start to fill her eyes.
Anne remained silent. Her rage and sadness were overwhelming. This could mean death for them both if word spread of this. She began tearing down the animal skulls and scratching out the marks on the trees. She would not let them fall for this.
“Anne? Anne!” Sarah pulled her friend away from the mark on the tree she was trying to erase with her hunting knife. “We must give this man a proper burial!”
“Then what are we going to do?” Anne retaliated, her anger rising. “Hope the grave is never found? Hope no one comes looking for him?”
“I...I don’t know,” Sarah said sullenly. “I don’t know.”
Anne gazed upon her friend, knowing that everything was about to change for them and their little paradise. The witch hunt would be knocking on their door soon, and there wasn’t much she could do to stop it. Anne faced her sister in arms.
“Neither do I.”
