Prince Bonir Vol. 02

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The Scarlet Witch.
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Part 2 of the 5 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 02/23/2008
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DrSqueaky
DrSqueaky
537 Followers

Chapter #2: The Scarlet Witch

The rustling next to me awakened me. Eve was sitting up, tossing back her long black hair, fumbling around on the ground for her servant's dress. Once an accused witch chained in my dungeon, she was now my concubine—and for all intents and purposes also head of the household, my primary liaison to the castle staff.

"Good morning, my lord," she said, looking over her shoulder. "Sorry to wake you. I wanted to head down to the kitchen to see how the cooks were coming with your breakfast." She was carefully keeping her back to me while putting her clothes back on. She knew that were I to get a good look at her lovely, full breasts I might well end up waylaying her from her task—although I don't think that she realized that I was on to her in this regard. It was fine with it; as it was I partook of her charms nearly every day, sometimes more than once.

"Yes, pray do," I said, "I'm famished."

She nodded in acknowledgement, then cracked open the doors, peeking out and looking both ways. She must have only seen guards, for she quickly darted out of my private chamber and down the corridor. While my lying with Eve was not an uncommon event, her spending the entire night in my bed was. We both did not wish it to be common knowledge about the castle when it happened. Eve knew my mother and sister did not approve of my carnal affairs, and I saw nothing to be gained in showing my surviving gamily any of the overwhelming evidence that when my father had been the Duke he was no less generous with his seed—only perhaps a bit more discrete about it. I felt I had nothing to hide as I was unmarried—although when eventually there was a Duchess of Averic, she would need to accept that there would always be concubines in the household as well.

As for Eve, my first and so far only concubine, I had no complaints, for she understood her standing perfectly. She was there for me when I wished for her. Were it not for me, she would either have been tortured to death as a witch or would have been a destitute citizen of the town, while as one of my, shall we say, favored servants she had a pretty good life in the castle. I knew that deep down, Eve longed to have me for herself, but she understood that this could never be. I think part of her attraction to me was that she admired my zealous attempts to bring the chivalric ideals of justice and fairness to the province. I would also like to think that, in part, it was because I had been part of the king's Elite Guard of knights until becoming Duke just a few weeks before. I was still muscular and lean from constant physical activity whilst wearing heavy armor. I hoped to avoid the portliness that comes of too little activity and too much feasting, such as my father had been.

Most of the time Eve fulfilled her role perfectly, but some times, usually times where she had been particularly reactive to my lovemaking, to the point where I would feel tremors shaking the length of her body, she had a hard time disguising her desire to have me for herself. It was usually at those times that I took pity on her and asked her remain in my bed for the night. By morning, she invariably was able to regain her sense of decorum. Make no mistake, I was quite fond of Eve, but I had by chance fallen into a position that afforded me access to many a fair maiden, and I saw no reason not to make the most of that chance. In exchange, I told Eve that she was free to find a husband for herself, if she so chose, with the one stipulation: so long as she continue to serve in her current capacity, she was to lie with another lover only if employing a sheath. As for myself I usually wore one when having relations with her—but not always.

------------------

When I arrived at breakfast, my sister Elizabeth was lying in wait for me. Without looking up from her plate, she accused "I see you slept with that hussy again last night."

I continued to my seat at the head of the table unmoved. "What I did or didn't do is none of your business, dear sister." I should have known that there was no sense in hiding it; by trusting Eve with many of my most sensitive tasks, I had leapfrogged her over many people in the household pecking order with much more seniority. I had no doubt there were plenty of jealous servants eager to tell the old guard of the castle when her chambers remained vacant for the night.

"You mother is very upset by your...behavior," she replied, knowing mother's voice carried some weight where hers did not.

"Then let her come and tell me so herself," I challenged. Perhaps I was being unfair, but I was not convinced that mother was truly unable to lift herself from her bed since my father passed—she merely chose not to.

Elizabeth made a sour frown, still not looking at me directly. I couldn't tell if she shared my opinion regarding Mother's incapacity or not. "She says you should be looking for a Duchess, not parading around with trollops."

"Perhaps you could then dance barefoot at the wedding?" I said snidely. The remark hit its target—I was not a sister, but it was still common practice to marry older children before younger ones. Had I not suddenly become Duke when my father and brother were taken by a plague, I would have been expected to delay marriage until Elizabeth had wed. Having made my point, I diverted the blade: "Besides, so long as mother resides in the Duchess' apartment, there would be no place to put one!" It was of course a silly argument in a castle this size, there could easily be two Duchess' apartments, but Elizabeth did not press the point. She had lost this round, but we both knew it was not the last this topic would come up.

I decided I would be well-served to get Elizabeth more on my side. "Listen, Elizabeth, in all seriousness—you are one of the most important assets of the province. You are young and beautiful and of royal blood; you will make someone an excellent wife, and with it forge a strong blood alliance with another state. The same for when I take a Duchess, and I will. But we can marry but once—it makes no sense to rush into a union with no political advantage when we may need to forge alliances in the future. Our unmarried (to have said "chaste" in this situation would have been hypocritical) status is a powerful tool that must be used wisely and, in frank, tactically. We must save ourselves for Averic's need."

She didn't say anything, but I could see her demeanor change. She liked to feel important, and I reminded her that indeed, she was. I knew that she personally objected to my taking concubines in large part because she knew I would not stop doing so after marriage, and imagined herself likewise having to a future husband that had no intention of remaining faithful to her. This was not the fairy tale picture she had been raised to try to attain. And, since she knew nothing of my father's exploits, she attributed this to a personal fault of mine. Perhaps it was, but it was a fault I was quite satisfied with.

-------------------

After breakfast, it was straight to the grand hall for audiences. I was mediating a dispute between two neighbors involving a field of hay and a goat—for the third time. This sort of thing happened all the time, and besides, ultimately both were my property. But these two men had despised each other for a long time and tried to get the other taken away—and yet neither had take up any of numerous offers to be moved and work a different part of the lands. Both were trying to impress upon me how egregiously they had been wronged, and my patience was wearing thin.

Just then there was commotion at the back of the hall. A group of about six peasants was dragging a frail feminine bundle of rags into the great hall. One of my guards was ostensibly escorting her, but in reality he was watching to try to keep the mini-mob from hurting her—or each other. Leading the way was a shopkeeper that I had already known thought himself very important, bellowing "A thief! This cur is a thief—and a witch! Burn the witch!"

I sighed. Always it was witchcraft this and witchcraft that—it seemed every young woman accused of anything was right away accused of being a witch as well. Superstitious people, my vassals. I quickly disposed of the property dispute and stood to see what was being brought to me.

With a great shove, the mob thrust the bundle of rags towards me, such that she fell at the foot of the stair below me. "What is this commotion that you dare disturb the Court of the Province of Averic?" I demanded.

The shopkeeper bowed low, and assumed the exaggerated obedience with which he always addressed me. "Your Grace, Duke of Averic...this cur was caught stealing..." he droned on for a while... "And if that's not enough, the people of town have seen this demon practicing witchcraft about the town! Look...she even has the mark of the devil upon her." Right on cue, one of the mob pulled on the hood covering the ragamuffin's head. Although mottled and darkened with filth, her hair was unmistakably flame red.

I sighed inside again. Stupid people...in the north, half the population has red hair, and in my experience the fairest maidens to a one bore scarlet locks. But down here red hair was rare, and since the devil's color was red, they concluded that red hair must be mark of the devil. I supposed I shouldn't be too smug, for these folk had never been outside of Averic in their lifetimes.

"Please rise," I said blandly to the lump. Slowly she picked herself up, while the mob backed away, having done its self-appointed job of turning her over to me. But she kept staring straight down at the floor in front of her.

"What is your name?" I asked.

"Arianna," she replied in a barely audible whisper.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" I asked. She continued to stare at the floor.

"What? Have you nothing to say? Are these charges true?" She remained silent and motionless.

"Guards, take her to the dungeon, we will hear what she has to say later." She was likely both shy and petrified; having this angry mob about was not going to help her find her tongue. But this was disappointing to the mob, who was hoping for a spectacle.

"My lord, surely you will not just leave her go..." they said.

"She shall have her day in court," I replied evenly, "but for now, there are other cases that were scheduled to be heard at this time...cases that you have interrupted. And I do not look favorably on interruptions." I called to Jauffrey to bring in the next case; fortunately there was one waiting and my ruse was not apparent. I really just wanted to diffuse the mob situation.

I proceeded with the next case; the mob, grumbling, took its leave. Later in the day, I went to see Arianna in the dungeon. She was chained to the wall in a regular cell, not one of the special witch cells my father—or perhaps his father before him?—had built. I went to talk to her, but she continued to stare at the floor. I could sense her trembling inside, but it was the poison of utter despair that ate her tongue. I gave up, and returned to my chambers. I spent much time that evening trying to decide how I could get this girl to at least speak up on her own behalf.

Unfortunately, time was not on my side. Next morning, the same mob returned, only now twice the size and escorting the Archbishop.

"Your Excellency," I said coldly, rising to my feet.

"Your Grace," he replied disingenuously, bowing as little as decorum would permit.

"To what do I owe the privilege?" I asked with a subtle sarcasm that the mob did not pick up on, but the Archbishop did.

"I understand that you are holding a certain witch in your dungeons," he replied. "Witches are possessed of Satan, and therefore her case is the domain of the church."

"She has been accused of crimes," I returned, "and thus her case is the domain of the state."

"But you refuse to hear her case," he countered. "And the church cannot allow a demon to remain in our midst."

While I had ultimate authority here, it did me no good to wield that hammer and be seen as an enemy of the Church. I was going to have to go ahead with her case, ready or not. "On the contrary," I replied, "I will be hearing her case this very morning. You are welcome to stay if you wish."

"We are very interested to hear the case, yes, thank you," the Archbishop answered hollowly.

I turned and called Eve over. "Take Arianna, and clean her up a little. Put her in some decent clothes and then bring her to me." Eve nodded and set off to fulfill my commands. I had a few little orders of business to attend to; I stalled by asking lots of questions that I already knew the answers to. Finally Eve reappeared at the side door, so I knew Arianna was ready.

"And now let us hear the case of Arianna, accused of thievery and witchcraft." I announced. Two guards led the small figure, made smaller by her hunched posture, before me. But with her red hair washed and combed, falling as it did in natural curls, and in a respectable dress rather than simple rags, she was now downright beautiful. I watched several of the mob doing double takes at the sight, perhaps second-guessing their own actions.

"You are accused of the acts of thievery and witchcraft," I proclaimed, but all the while I was adamantly trying to make eye contact with her. "How do you plead?"

She continued to stare at the floor. Damnation, I thought, how am I going to help you if you will not help yourself!

"See? The devil takes her tongue even now!" the shopkeeper blurted triumphantly. I glared at him, and he immediately shrunk back to his place. My intolerance for outbursts at court was quickly becoming common knowledge.

"If she will not talk now, the inquisitors have ways to make her talk," the Archbishop reminded. That was what I was trying to prevent—but she was not doing anything to help herself. Had I had time I would have tried to reason with her, but this mob hadn't given me the chance.

"If you do not answer, the court will consider that you do not dispute the charges and will act accordingly," I said. "For the last time, what do you have to say for yourself." Still she said nothing, but I could see she could barely keep her composure, and was nearing tears.

Tears! I thought. That's it! Witches aren't supposed to be able to cry! If I can make her cry, I can disprove the accusation of witchcraft—and the Archbishop is right here to verify! Right then and there I decided on a somewhat risky course of action, almost like a game of chicken. But I held out hope that I could succeed in getting her to cry before actually doing her egregious bodily harm.

"Very well!" I announced. "The accused does not contest the charges of thievery and witchcraft. We shall deal with this at once. Guards!" I had never acted like this, but by now my guards trusted that whatever I did I did for a reason. "Fetch the thickest rope you can find—and as many bullwhips as you carry," I said to one. Then sending him off, I said "Come!" and marched off down the center aisle.

We were a motley parade. I in the lead, striding with exaggerated grandeur. The poor waif trudging behind, pushed by two guards. Then the Archbishop and the rest of the mob, and finally Eve and the rest of my household staff. I marched up to a thickest oak tree in the courtyard. Arianna was marched right up to the tree. As we waited for the implements to arrive, I spoke to her, sounding as mean and cruel as I could muster. "You devil, you think that you can run amok in our towns? In the Province of Averic we do not stand for such evildoing! You shall pay for your wickedness with your very flesh!"

Damnation, she was still too stoic! She was quivering, but still no tears came. Cry, damn you, I thought.

The guard returned with the rope and a number of whips. "Tie her to the tree!" I commanded. Her wrists were seized and wrapped around either side of the tree, then tied together on the other side. Directly into her ear, I said "Now you shall see what we do with witches!" And with that I grabbed her dress and tore it completely asunder down to her buttocks, then tore it to the side so that her entire back was bared. Why don't you cry? I thought. I really didn't want to see this girl get hurt, but she refused to help herself. I had one last chance to break through.

I stood sideways to the girl and grabbed her chin with my hand, forcibly pulling it so that she had no choice but to face me. "Punish this witch," I said, while staring directly into her eyes coldly "whip her, and continue to whip her until her entire back is as crimson as the hair on her head!"

I don't know if it was the fact that she finally had to make eye contact with me, or the very real anticipation of the pain she was about to suffer, but at last her lip trembled and her composure failed. Come on! I thought.

"What...you think you can repent now? You should have thought of that before you committed your crimes!" I yelled. And with that, finally, a tear rolled down her cheek. At last.

"Wait...what is this?" I said suddenly in an altogether different demeanor. "Archbishop?" I said, gesturing for him to come over. Puzzled, he came over to the tree. When he was close enough to see, I scooped up the tear, and tasted it to confirm its saltiness. The Archbishop now saw what I did, and knew what it meant. There were now more tears, so he too captured and tasted one. His frown told me that he knew it was a tear. "Do we agree on what we are seeing?" I asked. He nodded glumly.

"As the Archbishop does attest, the prisoner cries!" I proclaimed loudly. "And as everyone knows, witches are incapable of tears. Thus, while the lady does not speak on her own behalf, we must conclude that the lady is NOT a witch!" Turning to the guard, I said. "Untie her from this tree, then bring her to me in the great hall. She must still answer to the charges of thievery!" And with that I strode away.

The guards would have brought her to me straightaway, but Eve knew that I would not want to see her dressed in the tatters she was in, so she re-outfitted her before bringing her to me. Again she looked down, but was softer this time; what was happening was not following the script she had envisioned.

"You are a tough nut to crack!" I began informally.

She was really not expecting that. She looked up sharply towards me.

"I almost couldn't get you to cry soon enough to prevent your receiving bodily harm. Yes, my entire intent in staging this show was to bring you to tears, not to despoil your flesh. And I almost failed." Arianna's jaw dropped open slightly; it had never have occurred to her that the Duke would NOT want to punish her. "Tell me, why did you not raise your voice in your own defense?"

"I...I was afraid, my lord," she said falteringly.

"I should think so, you very nearly got yourself whipped to death! And still you did not speak!"

"I..." she trailed off.

Suddenly I had an idea. "Where are you from?" I asked her.

"I...I am not from here..." she said sadly, again looking down at the floor. Of course—she was indentured to another landowner. Little wonder she had little to say, and felt she had no standing in the court.

"Why are you not where you belong?" I asked gently.

"I lived with my family in Barcos, but...there was this Captain of the Guard...he kept hounding me, trying to force me to do...unladylike things with him. Then he started arranging so that my family didn't get it's share of food. My whole family was starving because I wouldn't give my chastity to the Captain of the Guard, but I had seen what happened to other maidens who he had taken an eye to once he tired of them. So I decided that in order to save my family, I needed to run away," she explained.

"And so you escaped to Averic," I summarized.

She nodded. "A fortnight's hence. But I soon learned I could not obtain any sort of work without the proper approval of Your Grace, and of course I didn't have that. So I wandered around the town aimlessly. I was so hungry...I saw some bread and fruit out in a vendor's cart. I didn't think, I just dashed over and ran away with some. But they saw me, caught me, and brought me here."

DrSqueaky
DrSqueaky
537 Followers