Chapter 17: Something Wicked This Way Runs
Author's note: Two updates in a week! Don't expect me to be this productive all the time, but I was really excited to get this chapter out for you guys. Thank you so much for all of your reviews from last chapter; apparently a lot of you had been hoping I'd write a continuation with the gargoyle story and I was happy to deliver something you seemed to enjoy.
This latest adventure is set in Colonial America, where a brave, stubborn Caroline refuses to blindly conform to her village's religious beliefs and makes it her mission to rescue an innocent man accused of witchcraft. Of course, the dimples and charming smile had nothing to do with her selfless act...
"Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,—
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble."
― Macbeth, William Shakespeare
Caroline carefully gathered the rough sack from under her small bed, wincing as the toe of her cracked leather shoe caught on the worn knot of her oak-paneled floor, causing a loud creak to echo throughout her bedroom and no doubt reach the ears of her sleeping father. She bit her lip, crouching in the darkness as she listened carefully for the telltale sounds of her father awakening. She allowed precious minutes to pass by, knowing that each moment she was in her home was one less she could spend to help the latest poor soul to run afoul of her village's leaders and their foolish but deadly obsession with persecuting those accused of witchcraft.
Steeling her nerves, she stood up silently, breathing a sigh of relief when her house remained still in the cold night air. She was dressed to face the chill of the late autumn evening, but tightened the strings on her wool cape nonetheless as she mentally calculated the list of items she held in the sack to aid her in this night's dangerous task. Satisfied she hadn't forgotten anything, she nodded to herself as she quietly opened her bedroom door, pleased that she had remembered to grease the rusted hinges with goose fat to help dampen the noise as she made her escape.
Heart pounding, she finally slipped out of her house undetected and kept to the long shadows far away from the torchlights of the guard posts near the four corners of the village. As she edged past the market square, she couldn't help but glance at the sight of the imposing whipping post that was purposely erected in the center of the village. Her lips curled in disdain as she thought back to this morning when she watched poor Niklaus Mikaelson, the village's apothecary, tied down and beaten with a whip after he was accused of being a demon who practiced witchcraft on his neighbors. Even now, she shuddered as she recalled the darkness she spied upon Governor Mikaelson's face as he watched the pale skin of his son's back split open again and again by the braided leather until the ground was stained red with blood.
The governor had moved with his son to the New Haven Colony several years ago, right after the death of his wife. He had ordered the meetinghouse to be converted into a home for them, as he declared it to be the largest and finest structure the village had to offer a man of his station. Few people argued as they could see his power in every confident tilt of his head, every curt word and, of course, his letters of introduction from respected leaders of the surrounding colonies.
It was Mikael's eyes that had frightened Caroline upon seeing him for the first time at the church where the village now held their meetings. They were nearly black, but it was more than that — they were empty, devoid of all humanity, except perhaps rage. On more than one occasion, she had witnessed him spew vitriol and even strike his servants and his son indiscriminately. Under the close scrutiny of the public eye, she hadn't dared to speak out, lest she draw attention to herself. With too many prying eyes upon her as it was, she was powerless before them. But, creeping about in the shadows, she found her power at last, and would not hesitate to help those in need.
Caroline quickly darted down the muddy pathway toward the jail, pausing to crouch behind the small smokehouse to wait for the watchmen to change shifts. She remembered how Niklaus had intrigued her from the start, with his dark blonde curls and merry blue eyes, but it was the way he would smile shyly at her, revealing innocent dimples, that made her blush prettily and look away quickly lest her father catch her acting unseemly.
She watched with quiet interest the past few years as he had grown into a handsome, learned man, and when he opened his shop, she suddenly felt the need to seek out his remedies for various twinges she and her father seemed to be plagued with. He likely thought she and her father were nearly at death's door, considering the frequency with which she would visit, but he always aided her with whatever herbal concoctions he created, a welcome smile upon his handsome face.
Caroline sighed quietly as she ventured a peek from around the small shed. Matthew was slumbering, and she entertained the reckless notion of taking advantage of the situation and attempting to rescue Niklaus now, but she knew that Jeremiah would be along shortly to start his shift as a guard. As she inhaled the night air tinged with old smoke, she was reminded of the upcoming harvest celebration, and how the village would gather to celebrate nature's bounty and begin the arduous task of preparing to smoke meats for winter. She looked forward to these occasions because it was a rare opportunity to interact with Niklaus outside of his shop without being accused of unseemly behavior.
A normally reserved man, he always kept his gaze respectful, but the small smiles she occasionally caught would cause her heart to flutter. The past planting season, he had taken to seeking her out in the market square where she would sell her needlepoint, and would spend his time carefully perusing her wares while engaging in polite conversation. At first, she had thought that he might pursue her, but she quickly quelled that foolish thought when she recalled his elevated station as the governor's son and her own dismal status now that her family's reputation was in tatters ever since her mother...
Enough of that. Caroline angrily shook her head, willing away her tears. Allowing those terrible memories to invade her thoughts during this mission would cause nothing but heartache and distraction. Squaring her shoulders, she ventured another glimpse at the front of the jail and tensed when she noticed Jeremiah join Matthew. Several agonizing moments later, Matthew finally left, and beetle-headed Jeremiah's face broke into a lazy smile at the sound of light footsteps behind him. Matthew's flirtatious sister, Victoria, stepped out of the shadows, giggling as she pulled Jeremiah toward the other side of the building.
Caroline rolled her eyes, vexed that a guard could be so easily swayed from his post. It certainly made her question the safety of her village, but for now, she should be thankful for small favors. Covertly sliding out from her hiding place, she soundlessly moved to the heavy wooden outer door, carefully easing the iron latch to the side. From the tasteless grunting coming from the other side of the jail, she was confident that Jeremiah would be occupied a bit longer.
The dirt floor muffled her movements as she swiftly made her way into the moldy cell where Niklaus sat, his curly head bowed in defeat. Startled at her whispered greeting, he looked up immediately, his blue eyes appearing to stare right through her in the dim light of the torches. Breathing a sigh of relief that the village council hadn't begun cruelly torturing out his confession, she quickly crossed the length of his cell to crouch by his side.
"Mistress Forbes," Klaus croaked in a small voice tinged with awe.
The rustling of his manacles clanged about the cramped room, causing her to wince. "Shh. All is well, Master Mikaelson." At his stunned expression, she favored him with a soft smile, adding, "But since I am here to rescue thee, perhaps we should dispense with the formalities and call each other by our Christian names?"
"Caroline," he said in a hoarse whisper, drawing out her name slowly as though savoring the taste of the syllables. "What are — how did thee —" he stuttered uncertainly, clearly confused by her unexpected appearance.
"Thou needed my help," she answered gently, touching the cold iron that encircled his wrists and had rubbed the pale skin nearly raw. The barbaric metal caused her fingers to tremble as the flood of unwelcome memories overcame her.
The sour earth of the jail cell assaulted her nostrils, making her retch. At 13, Caroline was able to squeeze her slender body through the loose rocks lining the foundation. She raced to her mother's side, barely recognizing the broken woman in soiled rags and skin covered in lacerations and open sores. Elizabeth Forbes, along with her dear friend, Abigail Bennet, and Abigail's daughter, Bonnie, had been accused of witchcraft.
The women had been dragged from their homes by the village elders along with Reverend Atticus Shane and Johnathan Gilbert leading the charge as they hurled foolhardy accusations against the women from claiming to see them transform into geese to blaming them for unleashing a sweating sickness upon the Gilbert family.
Caroline had tried to be brave as she wielded the heavy tool she had stolen from the blacksmith to break the chains of her mother and the other prisoners. Elizabeth stubbornly refused to be released first, demanding that Caroline instead see to Bonnie's chains. Only a year older than Caroline, the poor girl's cracked and bleeding lips trembled as she mumbled her thanks. Once Bonnie was free, Caroline raced back to her mother, but the guards' voices suddenly appeared right outside the door. Alarmed, Abigail hissed to the girls to flee, realizing that both were thin enough to slip through the loose rocks in the flooring along the edge.
Always a willful child, Caroline shook her head furiously, silent tears running down her cheeks as she embraced her mother for the last time. "My brave, beautiful girl. Pray carry all my love with thee. Forever," Elizabeth whispered in her ear, before shoving her away, the fierceness in her eyes burning with an almost feral quality as she watched Caroline and Bonnie make their escape.
"Are thou well," Klaus' worried tone jarred her from her dark thoughts.
"I — yes. My apologies," she said, shaking her blonde head as her hood fell back to her shoulders. She tugged gently at his calloused hands, helping him to stand. "We must leave while we can."
Klaus nodded in agreement, clearly disbelieving his good fortune. "I bid thee remove my chains with haste," he entreated, his brow furrowed in worry.
Caroline quickly shook her head, leading him toward the small door she had pried open by a carefully placed tap upon the hinges using a stolen hammer and chisel. "We cannot tarry any longer. Please trust me with this knowledge, Niklaus — once we hath ensured thy freedom, thy bonds shall be released."
He tilted his curly head in her direction curiously, the dim light catching the streaks of dirt upon his face. While he noted the faltering in her voice that was clearly troubled by disturbing memories, his only reply was, "I trust thee, Caroline."
Despite the dreadful circumstances, she felt her cheeks turn scarlet. She quickly moved her dark cloak's hood back over her head, hoping he didn't see her pleasure at his faith in her. She rifled through her sack to withdraw a rough blanket, throwing it over his thin linen shirt to help protect him from the bite of the autumn air. He gave her a grateful smile before lowering his lashes shyly.
They quietly crept down the short hall of the jail, barely breathing as they silently made their way toward his freedom. Pausing briefly at a particularly unchaste groan, the pair did their best to avoid glancing at each other as they patiently waited to ensure the couple outside continued to be distracted.
Finally, Caroline led Klaus out of the jail, melting into the safety of the shadows. They huddled near the edge of the woods, waiting for the figure in the closest guard post to turn his head before they darted into the thick underbrush for cover. They made their way slowly in the dark, carefully weaving through clusters of oak and hickory trees. A heavy silence sat between the two as they traveled, following no obvious trail except the one that Caroline had mapped out in her mind with the confidence of one who had made this troubling journey far too many times during her young life.
Niklaus' fears seemed to lessen the further away they were from the village, and he asked curiously, "Thou do not fear that I am a demon as our kinsmen hath accused?"
She scoffed, ducking under a gnarled branch that was blocking the way. "Thou must think me feeble-minded to believe the foolish nonsense our neighbors hath cried. That thine eyes turn yellow as thou work thy evil will upon the village. 'Tis no witchcraft. No bedevilment." She angrily shook her head, adding, "True demons are found in the dark hearts of men like thy father and the village elders he has led astray."
Niklaus' smile was sad as he jogged to her side once more, his chains jingling at his bound wrists as he tugged on the edges of the dark blanket at his shoulders. "I did not put stock in the foul rumors that plagued thy family's name. But thy noble actions hath shown me that thou performed this act of mercy before."
Caroline sighed heavily, pausing in her brisk pace to stare up at the sky, what little she could see of it through the dense cover of twisted branches. Her hood fell back once more, revealing the faraway look in her weary gaze. She wondered if her mother and Abigail were among the stars now, their light sending her the strength she found to carry on. "Yes. Mere months before thou arrived, several women were accused of witchcraft and brought before our village elders to confess their sins and repent. My mother, her dear friend, Abigail, and a girl not much older than me, refused to admit to such blasphemous falsehoods. They were selfless, simple healers, and nothing more!"
They carried on in silence a bit longer, the weight of Caroline's bitterness coloring the space between them. She found herself at ease in his presence, wishing their lives had afforded them more moments together. "I tried to save them all, but alas, I could only help Abigail's daughter." She took a shaky breath, trying to steel her nerves once more. "My mother and Abigail were hanged the next day. My father and I were denied her remains; we were forbidden from granting her a proper burial."
He bowed his head, troubled blue eyes downcast as he murmured, "Thy loss is great; thou hath my deepest sympathies. But what thou hath wrought in the wake of such tragedy — I am quite amazed." He gasped as though a thought suddenly struck him. "Clever maiden, thou were the reason Mistress Claire mysteriously escaped from her cell a year ago and Mistress Pierce this past spring!"
She warmed under his praise, unused to such flattery. "Fortune favored me upon those nights. Master Saltzman hath grown fond of his drink and slumbered through my rescue and Master Lockwood's gluttony with the rancid quail meat caused him to frequent the necessary house, which aided in the other rescue." She smiled tremulously. "I — I do what I must to save as many as I can...for my mother. To make up for my failings with her."
His firm rebuttal startled the nesting crow nearby. Its rebuking caw pierced the night air. "No! Thou are blameless in this madness, Caroline. The evil that men do, it shall not touch one such as thee."
Her meek smile was her only response as they continued on their way through the thick underbrush. Sometime later, she declared in a low voice, "Nor is the evil that men do upon thee, Niklaus. Thou shall not suffer the noose as long as I can help it. No one shall."
He chuckled, "This fire within thee is a sight to behold. I must admit, thou willful nature captured my interest, but I searched for glimpses of that fire when thou tarried in my shop. I wish thee had allowed this spark to light thy way more often."
Caroline inwardly winced, realizing that the handsome man before her had seen through her simple ruse time and again when she falsely sought him out for remedies. "I did not wish to behave improperly. I merely wanted —" she abruptly stopped speaking, mortified at her boldness.
He seemed to understand that she had revealed more of herself than she meant to, and glanced away, kindly asking, "What is my fate on this night? Where are thou leading me?"
Caroline gestured to a narrow passageway outlined with several boulders. "We hath almost reached the docks. I hath secured thee passage on a ship headed to France. I fear thou shall need to speak falsehoods onboard; I've implied that thou are a part of the fur trading expedition that journeyed down the St. Lawrence."
He laughed softly, clearly stunned by her ingenuity. "However did thou manage such a feat? Perhaps it is thee who dabbles in the black arts," he teased with twinkling blue eyes.
She scoffed, cheeks rosy under his blatant perusal. "My mother 'twas a healer who counted many traders amongst her allies. I hath quietly strengthened those ties where I can to aid in my missions." She wagged her finger mockingly at him. "Keep spinning such nonsensical stories of witchcraft and I shall fear thee touched in the head, Niklaus." She stopped walking when she sensed the salt in the air had become more pronounced. A well-worn trail was merely steps away, winding out of the dense trees and downhill toward the docks.
She set down the heavy burlap sack she had been carrying and began rooting through it to find the blacksmith's hammer and chisel once more. When she straightened to face him, she explained, "While I do not possess coin to spare, I did gather a supply of smoked venison and apples. 'Tis meager at best, but my friends onboard hath kindly agreed to share what they can." She motioned for her companion to place his wrists against the rough bark of a wide hickory trunk.
Niklaus raised his arms, shocking her with his bold caress of her soft cheek. "The kindness thou hath shown upon this night shall not be forgotten, dear Caroline. I shall find a way to properly honor thy selfless deed."
Nearly blushing to her roots, she placed his wrists as far apart as she could upon the trunk as she swung the hammer with surprising precision. The sharp edge of the iron chisel wedged itself between the links of the old metal cuffs, twisting under the pressure she applied until his bonds were severed.
His hoarse victory cry filled her with joy as she bent at the base of the hickory to collect the mangled bits of chain. Her intent was to bury them off in the woods away from her trail to avoid her precious escape route from being discovered. She noticed an odd etching around the bonds, almost like a design. What a peculiar object to display one's craftsmanship, she thought to herself. As she straightened once more, she gripped the mouth of the burlap sack to hand to Niklaus, but it fell from her grasp at what suddenly stood before her.
Niklaus peered down at her inquisitively, his blue eyes suddenly bleeding gold in the night. Even more disturbing, his innocent dimples now framed a cunning grin with sharp fangs. Immediately sensing her terror, he tried to calm her with his velvet voice. "All is well, dear Caroline. Thou hath nothing to fear from me, brave little bird."
He gestured to the useless bits of iron at their feet, running long fingers tipped with claws along the raw skin of his wrists until it healed before her startled eyes. "Thou freed me from those cursed chains that sought to bind my power. I am whole once more," he said fondly, winding a stray blonde lock that had escaped from her hairpins around a pointed claw.
Caroline struggled to keep from shaking as she stared at the creature before her. She couldn't understand how the handsome man she once knew had become this terrifying beast, and she was distraught to find that she her infatuation with Niklaus was inexplicably strengthened by this revelation of his true form. She was intrigued despite his evil visage, and she was filled with questions she felt shameful for thinking. "Niklaus, what on earth...how can thou be...this," she squeaked helplessly, her emotions a jumbled mess.
"Thou would be amazed at what walks this earth, little bird," he hummed, a playful glint in his golden gaze. "Oh, the wonders I shall show thee — one day." He grasped her hand, turning over her bare palm to his hungry stare. Suddenly, a small bronze coin appeared there, nestled between her cold fingers. With a delicate claw, he traced the time-roughened ridges of a peculiar symbol — a circle topped by what appeared to be a horizontal crescent moon.
Caroline gasped at the appearance of the object in her hand, her alarm quelled by the wonder of his power. "I thought magic 'twas but a fool's tale. Never in all of creation would I hath thought to see such a marvelous thing," she confessed breathlessly.
"This is my talisman, dear Caroline. If ever thou are in need, merely call my name while grasping it, and I shall be summoned," he said in a serious tone as he closed her trembling fingers around the ancient coin. He released her hand, bending to pick up the fallen sack at their feet. Casually swinging it over one shoulder, he added, "One day, when thou hath finished thy quest to save everyone around thee, thou shall summon me."
She found herself oddly charmed by his flirtation. "How can thou be so certain? I possess quite the willful nature, after all," she teased.
Tipping her a devilish wink, he replied, "Because I can be a valuable friend to possess; especially to such a willful creature who insists upon leading a reckless, albeit selfless life."
With a soft kiss to her knuckles, Niklaus whispered, "Fare the well, dear Caroline," and disappeared without a trace, leaving behind a stunned Caroline who found herself considering the endless possibilities to be had in such a mysterious world.
