The Witch Hunter's Tale (21 page)

The prosecutor nodded in satisfaction. “And what do you think those teats were?”

“They were wholly unnatural,” Rebecca said. “They could only be the teats from which her familiars suckled.”

“And what did Mother Lee say when she was confronted with this evidence?”

“At first she denied it. She claimed that they were hemorrhoids and that she’d suffered from them for many years.”

“What did you say to this?”

“I told her that they were no hemorrhoids, that she’d had traffic with Satan’s imps. She denied it, but I pressed her further and again. I told her that such marks could only have come from the devil and that she must tell the truth. It took many hours and much pressing, but she soon saw that I spoke the truth. She told me that the imps must have come to her in her sleep and suckled then. It was the only way she could have gotten such teats.”

“So she confessed to you that she is a witch?”

Rebecca nodded emphatically. “Yes, my lord, she did.”

The prosecutor smiled, clearly pleased to have regained control of the trial. “Thank you, Mrs. Hooke.”

The last witness was Mother Lee. The bailiffs led her to the front of the hall and left her there. She looked around the room at her neighbors, the women who had just condemned her to death. I saw no sign that she hated them for it.

The prosecutor stepped to the middle of the room and placed his hands on his hips. He sensed that victory was near and was enjoying the moment.

“When did Satan first come to you?” he asked.

“Some years ago,” she replied. “Six or seven. It was about a year after my husband died. My son had gone to London in search of work.”

The prosecutor strode forward and looked into Mother Lee’s eyes. “And you lay with the devil when he came to you. You let that infernal creature have carnal knowledge of your body.” It was less a question than a statement.

Mother Lee held his gaze. “Why do you want to know that?”

“We must have the truth,” the prosecutor responded. “Tell me—did the devil have use of your body?”

“Aye,” Mother Lee said at last. “He promised he would protect me, and send his imps to act as my servants. My house was in such disorder, and food was so dear. So I lay with him.”

The prosecutor smiled. Mother Lee was as good as hanged. “What was the devil like? What form did he take?”

“He was tall and handsome with black hair. He was a proper gentleman, more proper than you are.”

The prosecutor’s smile faded for a moment as the jurymen enjoyed a laugh at his expense. Rather than risk further humiliation, the prosecutor turned to the judge and announced that he had finished. The judge nodded—or perhaps fell to napping—and the bailiff led Mother Lee from the room. The prosecutor then announced the name of the next woman to be tried. Martha and I edged toward the door and slipped into the Castle yard.

“They will find her guilty,” Martha said as we hurried to the gate.

“Aye, with her confession there can be no doubt of that.”

“Will all the women hang? There are so many…”

“It will depend on how strong they are and how far they were pressed. If they confess before the jury, they are finished to be sure.”

“What are we going to do about Will?” Martha asked. “If they try him in that sort of court, he will receive the same sort of justice.”

“I have been trying to find a solution.…” My voice trailed off.

Martha’s laugh had a bitter edge. “And have you discovered a lawful escape for him?”

I shook my head. “The law is set against him, and there is no lawful thing we can do to oppose it.”

“What?” Martha cried, fury visible on her face. “So we let him try his fortune in court? Have you gone mad?” Martha made no effort to hide her anger, and passersby looked shocked that a maid would address her mistress in such a fashion. I could only image the gossip that would run through the markets after such a show.

“Of course not,” I replied, taking her arm. “We will smuggle him out of the city. With a good horse and a full purse he’ll have no trouble making his way to my estates in Hereford. Joseph’s writ won’t run so far as that. Eventually we can join him, or—if Joseph falls from power—he can safely return to York.” I could see the tension run from Martha’s body at my words. “Surely you didn’t think I’d let him hang, did you?”

Martha thought for a moment before answering. “I know you favor the law above all else. You’ve caused bastard-bearers to be whipped, sent ravishers to the gallows, and felt no sorrow along the way. You love the part you play in keeping order—it is why you sided with the King even as your kin chose Parliament. Last summer you stood ready to see a murderer walk free because the law could not act.”

She paused once again, perhaps wondering how far she could go. I nodded for her to continue.

“In the past you have been guided by what is lawful rather than what is right. Most often I cannot call this a fault, for I’d see ravishers hanged as soon as you would. But at times you love the law too much. It is the law that whips an unwedded mother, but exacts no such price from the man who fathered the child. There is no justice in this, but you have seen it done and thought it right. I could not help wondering if you would ever oppose the law in so open a fashion. If you help Will escape, you will become an outlaw.”

By the time Martha finished speaking we had drawn to a stop. I took her hands and looked her in the eye. “We live in a world turned upside down,” I said. “Parliament has its foot on his Majesty’s neck, and the true worship of God has been overthrown by plain men and their sermons. Worse, the law has become a weapon for the strong to destroy the weak.”

“It has always been thus with the law. You simply closed your eyes to the truth.”

“No,” I replied. “The times have changed, and we must change as well. We have no choice but to pluck Will from his prison and see him out of the city. I will not let him hang for a murder he did not commit.”

“Perhaps that is where we part ways,” Martha said. “I would not let him hang for a murder he
did
commit.”

*   *   *

Martha and I ate a small dinner of bread and cheese as we talked through our scheme to free Will. The guards at Peter’s Prison were so loose, it would not take us long, and once he escaped, he’d simply have to find his way out of the city. It seemed absurdly easy.

We reached Peter’s Prison, and Martha pounded on the door. A few moments later, one of the jailors opened it and gestured for us to enter.

“Come in, come in, before the wind does,” he urged us.

Inside we found Will, his jailors, and two other prisoners sitting at a table playing at cards. If the coins before them were any measure, he jailors seemed to be doing very well for themselves. I counted this a good decision on Will’s part.

“Martha, Aunt Bridget!” Will smiled when we entered the room. “You’ve rescued me from these conjurors. I’ve no idea how they do it.” The jailors laughed, enjoying their success at gambling and the profits it brought.

“Might I have a word with my nephew?” I asked. “I will return him to his game shortly.”

“So long as he brings his pennies, keep him as long as you want,” cried one of the jailors as he waved us toward Will’s cell. Will helped himself to a lantern and led the way down the stairs. The cell was no less cold than it had been on our previous visit, and I praised God that if all went according to plan Will soon would be free.

“You must escape and flee the city,” Martha whispered as soon as the door shut behind us.

Will looked at us in shock. “What? What has happened? Surely things haven’t become so dire so quickly!”

“I’m afraid they have,” I said. “They intend to try you for Mr. Breary’s murder as soon as the witch-trials are done.”

Will half sat, half fell onto his pallet, his eyes suddenly wide with fear. “They said they would wait until the next Assizes. I thought we had more time. Until March.”

“So did we,” I replied. “But we were wrong, and we must act immediately.”

Will’s eyes flicked between Martha and me. I had never seen him so frightened.

“They’d not rush me to court if they intended a fair trial,” Will said. “If I am tried, I’ll surely be hanged.”

“That is why you must escape,” I said. “That you are here rather than the Castle is a stroke of luck. We’ve already seen that your guards are less attentive than they should be.”

Will nodded. “If we supply them with sack, they’ll drink themselves into a stupor. I could simply walk out the door.”

“Precisely,” I said. “I’ll send them capons, a roast beef, and enough wine to set them spinning for days. Once they are asleep, come to my stable. I’ll leave a bag of clothes and money for you there. Take one of my horses, go south to Micklegate Bar, and leave as soon as they open the gate in the morning. Your guards will still be asleep and will not have raised hue and cry. In the cold, you can cover your face and nobody will think it strange. Then it’s on to Hereford. You will be safe there.”

Will exhaled, and the mist of his breath rose slowly toward the cell’s low ceiling. “And you will join me there?” he asked.

“As soon as we can,” Martha replied.

“Moving a household takes more time,” I said. “But we will come.”

“Very well,” Will said, rising to his feet. “The guards have all my pennies, but if I start losing shillings, they’ll be in a drinking mood to be sure.”

I stepped to Will and held him close. “And we will see you in Hereford.”

Martha and Will locked eyes, and the pain of their impending separation filled the small room.

“I will see you soon,” Will said. “I promise.”

Martha nodded, and we started up the stairs. When we reached the main room, I announced my plans to send over a feast worthy of the Lord Mayor himself, and the guards cheered heartily.

“Your nephew is a welcome guest indeed,” cried out one guard, clapping Will on the back. I regretted the trouble the guards would suffer for allowing Will to escape—Joseph’s wrath would be tremendous indeed—but we had few options.

Martha and I had not yet reached the door when a pounding echoed through the room.

“God’s blood, is someone trying to break
in
to the prison?” one of the guards shouted as he crossed to the door. “What is it? What is it?”

As soon as he pulled back the bar, the door burst open and half a dozen members of the Town Watch charged into the room. At least two had been with the squad who took Will from my house, and they still bore the marks of that skirmish. The one Will had battered the worst crossed the room and drove the butt of his musket into Will’s stomach. Will crumpled to the floor without a sound. I cried out in shock, and Martha hurled herself at Will’s assailant, ready to do battle. Another of the watchmen, this one bearing scratches across his face, lashed out with his fist, striking Martha on the side of her head. She joined Will on the floor.

“Sergeant, what is the meaning of this?” I shouted. “By what right do you act in such a lawless fashion?”

“By order of the Lord Mayor. And before you ask, yes, we have a warrant to take your nephew.” His voice dripped with disdain. As Will struggled for breath, two of the soldiers rolled him onto his stomach and bound his hands behind him. Martha rolled onto her back and struggled to rise, but the same soldier who had struck her placed his boot on her chest. She looked at me, her eyes begging me to act. My mind raced for some way to turn the situation to our favor, for I knew that if they took Will we’d have a devil of a time getting him back.

“Good work, sergeant,” a voice called out. I turned to find Mark Preston standing in the doorway. A smile crossed his lupine features when he saw me.

“There you are, my lady,” he said. He did not bother to bow. “Mr. Hodgson wondered where you had gone when you left the Castle in such a hurry. He hoped you might stay to hear the witch’s sentencing. She is to be hanged, of course.”

“Where are you taking him?” I demanded.

“Mr. Hodgson has made room for his brother in the Ouse Bridge gaol, and he has even arranged for a special guard. We think he will be more secure there.”

My heart sank. I knew that Joseph could not have discovered our plan to sneak Will out of the city, but he had foiled it all the same.

Preston saw the look on my face, and his smile widened. “Why so sad, my lady?” he asked. “Surely one cell is as good as another. Or have we interrupted some sort of scheme?”

I said nothing.

“In any event, it does not matter what you planned,” Preston continued. “Mr. Hodgson will have his trial. And then his hanging. Bring him along!”

Chapter 17

Martha fought back her tears as we hurried home. The wind had risen while we were inside, rendering useless any words of comfort that might have occurred to me. We needed time and peace in order to think of a way to save Will. Unfortunately, we had neither. By the time we slammed the front door behind us, Martha had transformed her anguish into fury.

“That son of a whore kept us at the Castle so he could summon soldiers to move Will,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’ll kill him myself. And that half-handed monster leading the soldiers, I’ll kill him, too.”

I looked closely at her face to see if she spoke in earnest or merely anger. I knew all too well that when Martha made such a threat I should take her seriously.

“If you did such a thing, you and Will would simply be hanged from the same gallows,” I said. “We will find another way.”

“What way?” Martha asked.

I could see the despair in her eyes, and I longed to take her in my arms as I would Elizabeth, and my daughter Birdy before her. I wanted to tell her that I would keep her safe from all harm. But while Elizabeth might still believe such lies, Martha had seen too much of the world to be so easily gulled.

Martha started up the stairs toward her chamber but stopped and turned to face me. “This is what I meant when I said you had too much faith in the law. Now that we cannot so easily manage Will’s escape, you will spend the night finding some way to free him by proving his innocence in court. But the truth is that the law is a blind whore. She comes when powerful men call, and then lies back while they use her as they see fit. And if you cannot see this, Will is going to hang.” With that, she turned and disappeared up the stairs.