The Assassin and the Sorceress Ch. 08

These men clearly had no idea what they were doing. Quite ironically, any blemishes or moles I might have once carried were now gone without a trace due to the very magic powers they were trying to prove I had.

"How old are you?" Abel asked me after eyeing me up and down for a minute. He was already growing a sizeable bulge from underneath his tunic. The priest glared at me in the same way, though whether a man of his age could be expected to grow a bulge at all was another story.

"Twenty-two years."

"You will address me as Lord Magistrate. And him as Vicar."

"Twenty-two years, Lord Magistrate."

"A woman grown. Then what happened to your pubic hair? Did it fall out from some venereal disease?"

I had been without body hair for so long I was starting to forget I was supposed to have it in the first place. I realized I should have made it grow back before undressing, but it was too late for that now.

"No, Lord Magistrate. Did your vicar's beard fall off from disease?"

Lord Abel slapped me across the face before I could even register what his hand was doing, let alone prepare. It stung, but I had sustained far worse beatings before.

"And you will speak to us with dignity. You will blunt that sharp tongue of yours or I will have Florinius blunt it for you."

"Apologies, Lord Magistrate. What I meant was that I removed it for the same reason some men shave their faces clean: personal preference. Nothing more."

"What kind of personal preference would have you take a razor to your nethers?" scowled the vicar. The loose skin hanging down from his neck almost jiggled as he spoke. "You're unmarried, and should therefore be a virgin, provided you haven't fallen from the path of God. If no man will see your womanhood, what do you care what it looks like?"

"I see my 'womanhood,' when I bathe, Vicar. I thought the hair was disgusting. I hated the look of it, the feel of it, the smell, how they'd fall out and I'd find them in my clothes and bedsheets and everywhere. So, I got rid of it. For me, not for any man."

Lord Abel turned to look at the vicar, briefly, silently seeking his opinion. Neither man seemed to find fault with my explanation, so he moved on.

"What about these lips? And her cleft? They look disproportionately large to me. Could her unholy parts have swollen under the Devil's influence?"

"It's possible. Interesting. Get a closer look."

The Lord Magistrate took a knee to bring his face closer to my crotch. Matthew had done the same to me countless times. But unlike Matthew, who gazed upon those parts with wide-eyed wonder, Lord Abel gazed narrowly looking for any flaw he could find. He pinched my lips between his fingers and pulled them apart to look at what lay beneath.

"Her lips are unusually... swollen. Girl, were you stung by a bee here? Bitten by a snake? What happened to you?"

"Nothing happened there, Lord Magistrate. That's just how I look."

"Don't lie to me, girl. Why is your flesh so swollen there?"

"I'm not lying. That's how I look. Don't men have cocks of widely differing sizes?"

"How would you know that? How many men have you seen undressed, exactly?" sneered the vicar.

"I've overheard boys talking. They're not very good at being discreet."

"True enough," Lord Abel conceded. "But your cleft is large to the point of peculiarity, and the good vicar said peculiarities are what we are looking for."

"And how would you know that, Lord Magistrate?"

He looked up at me, suddenly angry.

"State your meaning," he said, almost daring me to go on.

"I mean, a man as noble as you must certainly be faithful to his wife. How many vulvas have you seen in your life? And this close, no less? And I don't know the ladies to brag about the shapes of their nethers like the boys do."

He didn't answer. The ploy had worked wonderfully; I had trapped him! His brow furrowed in frustrated thought.

"Shall I summon the physician?" he asked the vicar at last. "He'll know the natural range of variation of women's anatomy."

"That senile old barber-surgeon? He's not even a true physician. Never completed his apprenticeship. His testimony tomorrow will suffice. For now, continue with the examination."

And he did. He stuck his finger up my vagina and felt around. It gave me no pleasure. I wasn't wet at all, and it only gave me discomfort. Finding nothing further out of the ordinary, he moved on. He told me to turn around and examined between my glutes. Somehow, this was worse for me than when he examined my vagina. After he was done there, he moved up to look under my armpits, at the back of my neck, and behind and in my ears. He bid me to turn around again. He looked in my mouth, in my eyes, up my nose.

Next, he went back downward and examined my breasts. Here, he lingered for a good while. He felt my nipples, rubbed the bumps around them, and pinched them. He lifted my breasts and looked underneath them. He grabbed them in his large hands and squeezed them. He wasn't gentile, but I did my best to tolerate it. He kept on for several minutes. This had gone far beyond the scope of a medical examination. He had a fascinated look on his face. That bulge that had been building underneath the bottom of his tunic was a full erection now.

I looked over to the vicar to see his reaction to all this. Would a man of God really permit this in the name of justice? Apparently, he would. It was the only time I had ever seen the frightening man smiling, and his grin was about as comforting as a shark's. These were no men of God.

I could have easily obliterated them in an instant. Or I could have slowly tortured them to death, but I did not. I could also have quietly escaped hours ago, but I had not done that either. I had resolved not to use the Oculus to get out of this. More than revenge, more than freedom, I wanted my life back. I had already used my powers too much. The only way back was to be found innocent.

While the Lord Magistrate drooled over every inch of my naked flesh, the vicar began to ask me questions.

"Tell me about your family, girl."

"Vicar, I'm an only child, yet unmarried. I live with my mother and my father."

"And do you love them?"

"I suppose, yes."

"What do you mean you suppose? How do you not know if you love them or not? Do you love your father as the Bible commands? Answer me!"

"Yes, I do."

The vicar wasn't convinced. He kept pressing me, trying to determine why my first answer was so uncertain. I didn't want to tell him how dysfunctional my family was. I considered lying, considered telling him that we were the happiest family that any family could be. But what if he was testing me, asking me questions he already knew the answers to. It was no secret that my father was a drunkard and that my mother used to beat me. And so, I told him the truth about them. I could only afford to tell a few lies, so I would have to make them count.

"And you love them despite all this? Why?"

"Because... well... they're the only mother and father I have. And things have gotten better. My father spends time with me now. A lot, in fact. We get along very well. And my mother hasn't beaten me, or even disparaged me in months. I wouldn't say we get along like Father and I do, but I'm not terrified of her anymore. Those improvements wouldn't have come if I didn't love them."

"Well spoken. Have you ever committed any mortal sins?"

"Everyone sins, Vicar. The Bible says so."

"But some sins are greater than those commonly committed by decent men. What of the sin of wrath? Have you ever intended to harm anyone? Though about murdering someone?"

"Not seriously."

"Explain."

"We all get angry from time to time. After my mother would beat me, don't you imagine I would have some dark thoughts about wanting to get revenge on her? I never did any of these things, of course."

"Very well. And the sin of lust... Have you ever committed adultery? Lain with a man outside of wedlock?"

I gulped. Again, enough of the town knew about my tryst with Joseph that I wasn't willing to risk it. I admitted to what we had done.

"Never married, and already no longer a maiden? Your virginity is gone forever. This is a grave departure from the path of God you will never be able to undo. You are well on your way to the clutches of the Adversary."

"Though it's not uncommon at all among the peasant folk," Lord Abel added, surprisingly coming to my aid. "They're like animals sometimes, following their baser instincts. This, alone, doesn't set her apart enough to accuse her of something like witchcraft."

"Yes... Very true... Hmm..." he pondered. "Have you ever committed any more perverse acts? Bestiality? Masturbation? Homosexuality?"

I paused. My mother worked with the pastor regularly, and I knew the vicar spoke to him from time to time. Was it possible that my mother had passed along my deed with the carrot? I was extremely reluctant to admit to that, or to my strange attraction to other women, but what if he already knew? It was possible. Besides, my pause by now had been tellingly long. I might as well admit to it.

"Um... I've masturbated before. But I never thought that was a worse sin than sex outside of marriage. I can't create a bastard child when I'm by myself, in fact I think it eases the desires that would otherwise tempt me to lay with men."

"It's not your place to decide the gravity of sins," the vicar scolded me, sharply.

"A masturbator! Disgusting!" Abel interjected, though the look on his face showed anything but disgust. "Tell us what you do to yourself. In what ways have you desecrated your own body?"

"Usually just rub myself. And a few times I've..." I swallowed. I didn't want to say this part, but it was possible they already knew. "I used a carrot once. That's what my mother caught me doing when she beat me the last time."

"And how do you rub yourself? Where?" asked Abel.

"Just... with my fingers. Between my legs."

"Show us."

"Vicar?" I asked, looking at him, begging him with my eyes to intercede. His grin only widened.

"You'd best do as your Lord Magistrate commands."

"Yes. Yes. Of course." I looked around for something to sit on, but there was nothing in my cell I was comfortable setting my naked body upon. There was the unidentifiable layer of grime that covered the floor. Even the cot looked like it had been attacked by rats, and I was fairly sure I saw a few lice crawling on its surface. So, I remained standing. I slid my fingers down my crotch and cupped the mound of flesh, massaging it for a few seconds, before burying the ends of my fingers between my lips and stroking my clit.

"It's like that," I said after demonstrating for a few seconds. "There's not really much to it."

"What, are you done?" Abel asked, rhetorically. "Have you brought yourself to ecstasy already?"

"No, Lord Magistrate. It takes me maybe half an hour, but that's all it looks like."

"Then continue. I want to see what this perversion looks like so we can properly judge you."

"I don't think I could, Lord Magistrate. I need to be comfortable."

"Shall I have the cooks bring you a carrot?" he mocked me.

"I wouldn't even be able to get it in right now."

"Then continue."

I did my best. After what must have been five or ten minutes, I had barely been able to produce the slightest tingle of pleasure, and I was still as dry as a bone. The gaze of these old men was really starting to disgust me! I made the mistake of looking at the Magistrate's bulge again, and saw a small wet spot forming.

"Enough," the vicar commanded, after far too long. "This isn't getting us anywhere, and I have more important questions to ask her."

"Very well," he agreed, sighing in disappointment. He stood up, at long last. His face had been inches from the action just now.

"What do you know of the Devil?" the vicar asked.

"He rebelled against God and was cast out of Heaven. Since then, he has been tempting humans to stray from God as he did. They say he was the serpent that tempted Eve. He tried to tempt Job to lose his faith in God. And he tried to temp Jesus."

"Have you ever spoken to him yourself?"

"No."

"Then who taught you to touch yourself like that?"

"What? Nobody did, Vicar. I figured it out myself. It wasn't difficult."

"All this sin you've spoken of... It goes well beyond what most men of God will ever commit. Are you telling me the Devil had no hand in any of it?"

"Not to my knowledge. If he influenced me, he did it more subtly than speaking to me directly.

"Have you ever heard thoughts in your head that were not your own?"

"I certainly don't believe so."

"None? No voices in your head? Demons? Perhaps commanding you to hurt people? Poison their food? Burn things? Commit unspeakable heresies?"

"No, nothing like it."

"You've been accused of witchcraft. Have you ever cursed anyone? Have you brought harm to anyone by supernatural means?"

"No. How would I even go about doing that?"

This line of questioning went on for a long time. At this point, I denied everything, regardless of how close to the truth his questions may have gotten. There was no way he could have known. He was stabbing in the dark at this point. He must have been.

By the end of the interrogation I was shivering from the chill of the dungeon's air on my bare skin. They had never instructed me to put my clothes back on, and I had a strange feeling they would have denied me had I asked. It was fine. I was getting used to it again. Except for the chill, that was.

Eventually, the vicar seemed to run out of questions to ask. As the interrogation ended, Lord Abel called for Florinius to return and lock my cell. Florinius did a double-take when I saw I was naked, flashed an amused smile, but paid me little more mind than that.

"Wait!" I cried as the three of them were turning to leave. They stopped, though Abel looked vexed.

"What are my charges? What am I accused of?"

"Witchcraft," he said simply, and turned to leave again.

"But what have I done? What happened in Ash that people think was witchcraft, and why do you think it was me? Who has accused me?"

"You'll learn all that tomorrow. You'd best pray to the Lord in Heaven to help you."

With that, they left. I looked to the pile of my clothes on the cot, and saw a single louse crawling across my crumpled-up shift. How many more were there hidden in the folds? I looked and listened carefully for a minute to make sure I was truly alone, then allowed myself one small use of my powers to rid my clothes of the lice and cleanse the grimy soles of my feet. I dressed, though I still felt cold.

The question of who had accused me had been bothering me since my arrest. I had been careful, to make sure nothing could positively be traced back to me. Susan had been my boldest attempt. Most likely, it had been her. Yet something made me doubtful. I had done that a while ago, and hadn't seen her since. Why should she only accuse me now?

Maybe it was Orson. There was no way he could have proven his blisters were my doing, but he was dumb enough that I doubted he waited for evidence before throwing around outlandish accusations against those he didn't like.

Could it have been Rebecca? She despised me more than anyone in Ash, currently, but she had no knowledge I had been anywhere near her when I had mimicked the symptoms of syphilis in her. I had been extremely careful that time. If she was my accuser, she would have had very little evidence.

But what if it was Esther? I had visited her window every night for a week. Had she somehow suspected me? I had visited her the day after, with hopes of her telling me about the strange thing that had happened to her. She had proven to be highly observant of my character. Had she seen something during that meeting that caused her to suspect it had been my doing? I had felt so guilty about spying on her and toying with her like that, especially after she opened up to me in the first, honest attempt anyone had ever made to help me be more likable. Had my own friend, who I had betrayed, gone on to accuse me? I couldn't bear that thought!

'You'd best pray to the Lord in Heaven,' Abel had said. I prayed to the closest thing to a divine being I knew, begged him to forgive me, and to help me get my old life back. But it was for naught. Neither God nor Verus came to my aid the next day.

...

The trial convened late the next morning. I hadn't slept at all. They shackled me, dragged me out of my cell, and into the great hall of Ash Keep, which was already ablaze with commotion. All of Ash, it seemed, had been invited. I looked around the room to see who was there.

I immediately met the gaze of my father. He looked like he had been crying. And his tears had been my fault, I told myself.

"I love you, Morgana," he mouthed to me, silently. Or perhaps he said those words, for I might not have heard him anyway.

Mother was next to him, but she could hardly bear to look at me. What she was feeling I couldn't even guess at. Denial? Shame? Guilt? Or maybe anger? Did she believe the accusations against her own daughter?

Next to father I saw Rufus and his family. Magdalene looked at me with concern and confusion, as if asking me if I really could have done such things. Matthew looked overcome with grief. Did I catch a hint of guilt? Did he somehow blame himself because of how he had spoken to me last?

Gaius had appeared with Susan. Rebecca was there with Joseph and his family. Esther and her family had appeared. Before I could try to read any of their expressions, the guards threw me down in front of the Lord Magistrate, and shackled my chains to a padeye on the floor. Abel was seated in a wooden throne, as if he fancied himself an emperor. Considering how infrequently Ash interacted with the outside world, he might as well have been.

"THIS COURT WILL BE SILENT!" commanded Lord Abel in the most booming, authoritative voice he could muster. All present obeyed, and the chatter halted in an instant. Lord Abel sat on his throne, wearing aged finery in a poor state of repair. It had clearly been tailored for a younger version of himself, now fitting him poorly. Rips and tears had been mended with obvious seams, and the dye had faded or rubbed off in places. His finery was of a sort beyond the skill of any of the few tailors in Ash, and so its age was apparent. He couldn't do away with his status symbol, even though his clothes only reminded me of the man he may have once been, and the riches he once possessed. Next to him stood the vicar, clearly a man who had his ear. Which one of them truly ruled Ash, I wondered: the representative of the Empire or the representative of the Church?

Abel continued.

"Here commences the trial of Morgana, daughter of John, who stands accused of witchcraft. Due to Ash being under military rule, I, the appointed Lord Magistrate of Ash, shall serve as Praetor of this trial in lieu of an elected judge. The proceedings, the verdicts of all charges, and the punishments for each shall be in accordance with my final word, and mine alone. I shall now list the grievances filed against her, the accused, by the people of Ash."

Among the considerable list of grievances, there were only two of them I had actually caused: Rebecca's syphilis and Orson's boils. The rest were ailments or misfortunes I hadn't even heard about, much less had any hand in. I was blamed for the failure of a plum crop, for a child's seizures which they thought were demons, for the death of a man's ox, for a pox that had spread through the village, making several ill but killing none, for more of a man's chickens being killed by wild animals than usual, and more. Where had all of these allegations come from? How were they pinned on me?

"I will now call the primary witness to the first charge, which began the investigation that uncovered the remainder of the grievances in this trial. Master Barber, approach and be seated."