Excerpt from A wish in time
Excerpt from “A Wish in Time” by Laurel Bradley
Copyright 2008 Laurel Bradley
In the spring of 1718 in Kirkinwall, Scotland, Auld Annie is accused of witchcraft and thrown into a filthy pit to await the arrival of the religious examiners. Magda McClellan, a young wife eight months pregnant with her first child, doesn't believe in witches. Knowing that Annie is innocent, Magda has concealed a bundle of food beneath her skirts with the intention of dropping it anonymously into the prison-hole. When she reaches the prison hole, she finds that it has collapsed and Annie, now covered with filth, is locked in the pub’s storeroom. Madga is sent by the parish priest, her uncle, to give aid to Annie under the guise of searching for the “devil’s mark."
The fiscal tugged open the door, swollen with humidity, wrinkling his nose at the smell of rotten food and human waste that greeted him. The pit had been used as a garbage heap and toilet when it wasn’t being used to house inmates.
“Witch,” he said, addressing the gray-haired wretch that huddled miserably between two kegs and a pile of boxes. “We’re checking ye fer the devil’s mark. I’ve a good God-fearing woman willing to do it out of Christian mercy and a group of men who’ll gladly take over if ye give her a moment’s trouble. Which will it be?”
“The woman,” Annie croaked through a raspy throat.
The fiscal nodded to Magda.
“We’ll say a prayer first,” Father Toddy instructed, bowing his head.
Magda bowed her head as well and recited the words.
The witch didn’t flinch or make a sound.
Dawin and the serving girl returned with the washtub and water. Two boxes had to be taken from the room and put in the hallway to make room for Magda and the washtub.
Finally, Magda was alone in the cramped room with Auld Annie. She placed a torn shift, cast-off gown, a sliver of harsh lye soap and the stained bar towels for washing and drying on a box before loosing the string that held her hidden bundle in place.
“I’ve come to help ye,” Magda told the old woman.
“Why?” The woman, who had stood when Dawin carried in the tub and buckets of cold water, now sank to the floor.
“Because I know ye dinna curse Lady Gwen.”
Auld Annie shrugged. “It hardly matters.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll be hanged or drowned, burned or buried alive, whatever it is ye do to witches in this town.”
“No,” Magda protested. “Not if yer innocent.”
“Are ye that naïve, girl, or are ye daft? Surely ye know that accused is guilty in cases of witchcraft.”
Magda avoided meeting Auld Annie’s eyes by bending to pick up the bundle from beneath her skirts.
The woman watched Magda untie the cord and lay out the food. “I was wrong,” she finally said. “Yer just a kind thing, aren’t ye?” She grabbed the chunk of bread and ripped at it with crooked teeth. She snatched up the cheese with her other hand and crammed it into her mouth, chewing hungrily.
Magda busied herself setting out the towels and soap while the old woman ate.
When Annie had finished her meal, she tugged off layers of soiled garments and piled them in a filthy heap until she stood in her ruined shift. It had been a serviceable one made of coarse linen that now held scents and stains that would never come clean. She undid what remained of her once neat bun and laid a coil of thick gray hair over her left shoulder before wrenching off the clinging shift. The hair covered her left breast, but the pendulous right one hung like an empty flask.
Magda averted her eyes, wanting to give the woman some measure of privacy.
“This bath and change of clothes will be yer idea, yes?” Annie said, drawing Magda’s attention, if not her eyes.
“I just couldna...” Magda began, but didn’t continue.
“Yer a good soul.” Annie stepped into the shallow tub and wet herself with the cool water, shivering despite the stuffy heat of the storeroom. “I’ll give ye a wish.”
“Then I wish ye were found innocent and freed,” Magda said, looking the woman in the eye.
Annie nodded, smiling to herself. “A rare good soul.” She poured water over herself. Tiny rivers of water left tracks in the grime as they coursed their way down her flaccid stomach and bony legs. “I’ll be found guilty, girl.” She held out her hand for the soap. “What is yer name?”
Magda placed the bar in the old woman’s hand. “Magda.”
Annie nodded. “I’ll be found guilty, Magda. It’ll come out that I made summat for this one or that to prevent the bairn or cure a wart. And ye’ll report this birthmark.” She moved the coil of hair to reveal a penny-sized red mark on her left breast that would have been called a stork-bite on anyone not accused of witchcraft.
“I willna,” Magda insisted, aghast.
“It willna matter if ye don’t, except if they find out later. Then they’ll say I bewitched ye, and they’ll make you and yer bairn pay.” She soaped her body. “No, Magda. Give me a minute more to hear yer wish and then scream that I’ve a mark. Have yer uncle bless ye in front of the whole tavern and say a Patre Noster loud and clear. That’ll save ye sure.”
“Couldna ye say a Patre Noster and save yerself?”
“Nay, lass. I’m old. A few more seasons, and I’d be good as dead anyway. Let them have their fun. Death isna hard. It’s over in an instant. Willna bother me in the least.”
“But there must be something I can do?”
The old woman soaped her hair.
“Aye, and ye’ve done it. I’ll grant ye a wish fer yerself then. Surely there’s something ye be wanting?”
Magda shook her head.
“To be tall and fair-haired?”
Magda shook her head again. The poor woman was surely daft to think she could make Magda tall and fair-haired.
“There’s nothing I want, but your freedom. I’m happy with me life.” Magda used a bucket of clean water to help Auld Annie rinse off.
“Then ye’ll keep the wish for later.” Annie squeezed out her long gray hair and took the towel from Magda’s hand. “Ye best hide yer bundle behind the box and then scream. It’s time ye saw the mark.”
Seeing the wisdom of concealing the food against sudden intrusion, Magda wrapped it back up and placed the bundle between two boxes, but she didn't scream. She wouldn’t scream. She was here to help, not condemn the woman.
Annie seemed to understand. “Do it for yer bairn, Magda. Do it for me. I’ll not get a chance to give ye yer wish if they burn ye alongside me.”
Tears filled Magda’s eyes. Annie was a sweet old woman who didn’t deserve what was happening to her. “I canna.”
She wouldn’t be the one to seal Annie’s fate.
Annie put a damp hand on her sleeve. “Scream.”
“Witch!” Magda screamed, shocking herself. “Witch!” The word erupted from her throat again, unbidden, like a compulsion. She stared uncomprehendingly at the smiling woman. “Witch!”
Annie nodded, pleased, as the storeroom door sprang open. The entire population of the pub was outside the door craning their necks to see around Dawin, Father Toddy and the fiscal. Davy and the rest of the guard heard Magda and rushed into the pub.
Magda shouted “Witch!” once more before she regained control of her voice. As the compulsion left, she sagged against the wall, horrified by what she’d done. She huddled in a shivering heap, finally able to remain silent now that the damage was done. She couldn’t look at Auld Annie. She felt ashamed as if she’d chosen this course. There was nothing she could say or do to help the old woman now.
Copyright 2008 Laurel Bradley
Copyright 2008 Laurel Bradley
In the spring of 1718 in Kirkinwall, Scotland, Auld Annie is accused of witchcraft and thrown into a filthy pit to await the arrival of the religious examiners. Magda McClellan, a young wife eight months pregnant with her first child, doesn't believe in witches. Knowing that Annie is innocent, Magda has concealed a bundle of food beneath her skirts with the intention of dropping it anonymously into the prison-hole. When she reaches the prison hole, she finds that it has collapsed and Annie, now covered with filth, is locked in the pub’s storeroom. Madga is sent by the parish priest, her uncle, to give aid to Annie under the guise of searching for the “devil’s mark."
The fiscal tugged open the door, swollen with humidity, wrinkling his nose at the smell of rotten food and human waste that greeted him. The pit had been used as a garbage heap and toilet when it wasn’t being used to house inmates.
“Witch,” he said, addressing the gray-haired wretch that huddled miserably between two kegs and a pile of boxes. “We’re checking ye fer the devil’s mark. I’ve a good God-fearing woman willing to do it out of Christian mercy and a group of men who’ll gladly take over if ye give her a moment’s trouble. Which will it be?”
“The woman,” Annie croaked through a raspy throat.
The fiscal nodded to Magda.
“We’ll say a prayer first,” Father Toddy instructed, bowing his head.
Magda bowed her head as well and recited the words.
The witch didn’t flinch or make a sound.
Dawin and the serving girl returned with the washtub and water. Two boxes had to be taken from the room and put in the hallway to make room for Magda and the washtub.
Finally, Magda was alone in the cramped room with Auld Annie. She placed a torn shift, cast-off gown, a sliver of harsh lye soap and the stained bar towels for washing and drying on a box before loosing the string that held her hidden bundle in place.
“I’ve come to help ye,” Magda told the old woman.
“Why?” The woman, who had stood when Dawin carried in the tub and buckets of cold water, now sank to the floor.
“Because I know ye dinna curse Lady Gwen.”
Auld Annie shrugged. “It hardly matters.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll be hanged or drowned, burned or buried alive, whatever it is ye do to witches in this town.”
“No,” Magda protested. “Not if yer innocent.”
“Are ye that naïve, girl, or are ye daft? Surely ye know that accused is guilty in cases of witchcraft.”
Magda avoided meeting Auld Annie’s eyes by bending to pick up the bundle from beneath her skirts.
The woman watched Magda untie the cord and lay out the food. “I was wrong,” she finally said. “Yer just a kind thing, aren’t ye?” She grabbed the chunk of bread and ripped at it with crooked teeth. She snatched up the cheese with her other hand and crammed it into her mouth, chewing hungrily.
Magda busied herself setting out the towels and soap while the old woman ate.
When Annie had finished her meal, she tugged off layers of soiled garments and piled them in a filthy heap until she stood in her ruined shift. It had been a serviceable one made of coarse linen that now held scents and stains that would never come clean. She undid what remained of her once neat bun and laid a coil of thick gray hair over her left shoulder before wrenching off the clinging shift. The hair covered her left breast, but the pendulous right one hung like an empty flask.
Magda averted her eyes, wanting to give the woman some measure of privacy.
“This bath and change of clothes will be yer idea, yes?” Annie said, drawing Magda’s attention, if not her eyes.
“I just couldna...” Magda began, but didn’t continue.
“Yer a good soul.” Annie stepped into the shallow tub and wet herself with the cool water, shivering despite the stuffy heat of the storeroom. “I’ll give ye a wish.”
“Then I wish ye were found innocent and freed,” Magda said, looking the woman in the eye.
Annie nodded, smiling to herself. “A rare good soul.” She poured water over herself. Tiny rivers of water left tracks in the grime as they coursed their way down her flaccid stomach and bony legs. “I’ll be found guilty, girl.” She held out her hand for the soap. “What is yer name?”
Magda placed the bar in the old woman’s hand. “Magda.”
Annie nodded. “I’ll be found guilty, Magda. It’ll come out that I made summat for this one or that to prevent the bairn or cure a wart. And ye’ll report this birthmark.” She moved the coil of hair to reveal a penny-sized red mark on her left breast that would have been called a stork-bite on anyone not accused of witchcraft.
“I willna,” Magda insisted, aghast.
“It willna matter if ye don’t, except if they find out later. Then they’ll say I bewitched ye, and they’ll make you and yer bairn pay.” She soaped her body. “No, Magda. Give me a minute more to hear yer wish and then scream that I’ve a mark. Have yer uncle bless ye in front of the whole tavern and say a Patre Noster loud and clear. That’ll save ye sure.”
“Couldna ye say a Patre Noster and save yerself?”
“Nay, lass. I’m old. A few more seasons, and I’d be good as dead anyway. Let them have their fun. Death isna hard. It’s over in an instant. Willna bother me in the least.”
“But there must be something I can do?”
The old woman soaped her hair.
“Aye, and ye’ve done it. I’ll grant ye a wish fer yerself then. Surely there’s something ye be wanting?”
Magda shook her head.
“To be tall and fair-haired?”
Magda shook her head again. The poor woman was surely daft to think she could make Magda tall and fair-haired.
“There’s nothing I want, but your freedom. I’m happy with me life.” Magda used a bucket of clean water to help Auld Annie rinse off.
“Then ye’ll keep the wish for later.” Annie squeezed out her long gray hair and took the towel from Magda’s hand. “Ye best hide yer bundle behind the box and then scream. It’s time ye saw the mark.”
Seeing the wisdom of concealing the food against sudden intrusion, Magda wrapped it back up and placed the bundle between two boxes, but she didn't scream. She wouldn’t scream. She was here to help, not condemn the woman.
Annie seemed to understand. “Do it for yer bairn, Magda. Do it for me. I’ll not get a chance to give ye yer wish if they burn ye alongside me.”
Tears filled Magda’s eyes. Annie was a sweet old woman who didn’t deserve what was happening to her. “I canna.”
She wouldn’t be the one to seal Annie’s fate.
Annie put a damp hand on her sleeve. “Scream.”
“Witch!” Magda screamed, shocking herself. “Witch!” The word erupted from her throat again, unbidden, like a compulsion. She stared uncomprehendingly at the smiling woman. “Witch!”
Annie nodded, pleased, as the storeroom door sprang open. The entire population of the pub was outside the door craning their necks to see around Dawin, Father Toddy and the fiscal. Davy and the rest of the guard heard Magda and rushed into the pub.
Magda shouted “Witch!” once more before she regained control of her voice. As the compulsion left, she sagged against the wall, horrified by what she’d done. She huddled in a shivering heap, finally able to remain silent now that the damage was done. She couldn’t look at Auld Annie. She felt ashamed as if she’d chosen this course. There was nothing she could say or do to help the old woman now.
Copyright 2008 Laurel Bradley
