"Idiot knight..." Zullie whispered to herself as she walked away from the laughing fool. Finally, when out of range from his hysterics, she continued through the gardens. Picking up some ripe apples within her reaching range, she finally reached the valley that led her towards the hut. It took her no longer then five minutes to reach her destination, though Zullie purposely took slow careful steps, to avoid reaching there sooner.
Zullie cursed quietly to herself. She had taken the shorter route. Now the hut was in plain view. "Damn it..." Taking in a sharp breath, she pushed open the vine covered and rotting hut door.
The smell of woodsmoke wafted into Zullie's nose as she entered the small hut. In front of her, three small and decrepit old women sat around an equally small and decrepit table. Lined with spatulas, vials and strange liquid, Zullie guessed, no, knew, that they were poisons. She approached the eldest woman. Shrewd, dark features lined her grooved face, a few teeth lined her blackened gums as she sucked on a piece of something. Dirty finger nails clawed at the lid of a vial. Zullie grimaced as she instead used a tooth to crack the vial open.
The young witch swallowed hard before greeting. "Here are the apples you asked for, Mistress." She said with a curt nod. Not even a grunt of approval was given as the Mistress snatched the basket away with frightening strength.
Zullie did her best to hide her hurt, and sat quietly next to her. She began to assist the others by preparing the poison. First, she ripped the stalk hard, making sure a tiny hole was left at the top. Grasping a vial, she tipped slowly, and carefully, the contents of it. The juices of the apple bubbled and popped. Seeing as how none of the poison secreted out of the apple, she placed it in a different basket, one that already contained some apples with poisoned cores.
"Would young Zullie care to explain why she took so long today?" The Mistress finally croaked, snake eyes boring into Zullie's purple ones. She gulped hard.
"I-I was simply taking my time finding some ripe ones." She stammered. The mistress' eyes brightened as they widened.
"What have I told you about lying, Zullie?" Mistress spat with venom. "Where have you been?" Zullie swallowed again before looking at her feet, and murmured something. "Well, child?"
"...I was, stuck, in a tree." She finally confessed. The witches laughed at her with haggard and wheezing laughs. The Mistress was not one of them.
"And how did you get down?" Mistress questioned.
"Does-Does it matter?"
"Yes! Of Course it matters!" The Mistress screeched. Zullie felt her heart hit the roof of her mouth. "What if he followed you? What if he has found a village and spread the word of three, 'harmless', old women here? What if, What if, What if!?"
Zullie sucked on her lower lip. All eyes were on her. "I never said I was helped..." The Mistress came near her face, blowing her rancid breath into her eyes. Zullie bit her lip to stop it trembling.
"Getting out of trees, child, is not one of your specialities." The Mistress sneered, her words dripped with venom. Zullie forgot to breath.
"A travelling knight helped me down." Zullie finally gave in. The Mistress leaned closer, till her long nose nearly touched Zullie's small one.
"And his name?" she murmured, so only the two of them could hear. Zullie nodded.
"I believe he said Alva."
Recognition was the hardest expression to hide. Not even the Mistress could hide her thoughts on the matter. Her eyes narrowed before she spoke.
"The dog of Serrate is out of his kennel..." Tutting, the other witches joined in with her. "...and right into our hands."
The witches tuts turned to hacking giggles. Zullie looked around in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, Alva is out for a good reason. But, that is also good for us." The Mistress said as she stood, spine creaking loudly. Zullie swayed a little. "This is a opportunity we cannot miss." Reaching for the closet door, The Mistress breathed in with excitement as she unlocked both of the doors. "Now, Zullie, this will be a good opportunity for you."
All the witches breathed in hard as they saw, in the closet, staring blankly at them all, was a suit of armour that extruded evil. By it's side, a gigantic sword, roughly the width of a table and the length of a halberd. It bared no sharp edge or point, in fact, the point was flat and as wide as the rest of the sword. The armour was as black as night, with four eye holes staring forward at nothing.
The Mistress cackled in delight.