Chapter Summary: Things start to get spicey as the Hopeland King refuses to believe that a man alone murdered his nobles, at least not without the aid of a witch. So he then sends out a group of knights to rid of the Kingdom's only witch suspect. Unfortunately for the knights, the witch manages to escape and moves on elsewhere.
Chapter Three
The Witch Hunt Fail
"How did you…?" the witch's jade green eyes had widened in shock at the mysterious man's words, and she stumbled back on her right foot. The only person beside herself that knew of her true identity was the baker, and he wouldn't dare tell someone else. Especially not some thin-clothed stranger dancing over a grave. Nevertheless, the witch chose to brave the mysterious man if he tried to attack her and walked away from the safety of the ruins' edge. "Never mind that now—what are you doing dancing over a grave and riling up the forest animals?" Instead of answering her right away, the man stepped over the heap of dirt and walked around the back of the second stone hedge. Alarmed, the witch jumped backward a few feet and watched for the man to reappear from behind the end of the other stone hedge, poised to attack her. However, this never happened.
"Can you trust me, Witch?" called the mysterious man from somewhere in front of the stone hedges. Daring to peer out again, the witch returned to her previous post and breathed a sigh of relief when the man came into sight. He was standing behind the makeshift cross of the grave now, except he had a thick robe of gold, ruby and sapphire colors on; a heavy hood addition was also worn to conceal his facial features, which only confirmed the witch's hypothesis that he had something to hide.
"If I said yes would you tell me who you are, poltergeist?" Okay, he probably wasn't a poltergeist, but the label he kept referring to her as had started to grate on her nerves and she wanted to throw some kind of comeback at him. If he struck out at her with a rude comment, the witch would make fun of the "poltergeist's" obvious lisp that she would have missed had his last question not been ringing on in her head over and over again.
The sound of his laughter echoing against the stone hedges, the man moved away from the makeshift cross and disappeared from the witch's line of sight since he had walked past the right stone hedge from where she stood in between the two. Worried she'd lose him, the witch headed past the right hedge and inclined her head to see where the man was headed.
However, the man was nowhere to be found.
No time to stop for a proper breakfast or else he'd miss the ferry, Johnathan Egbert pushed past all kinds of citizens that were crowding the market street near the ferry port.
"So sorry, Ma'am!" he had called out to one particular woman who shot him quite the look, pulling her young boy aside and whispering something to him. Oh well, John couldn't afford to waste time apologizing to every person he bumped into. They should understand the minute they see the many scrolls sticking out of his pack, after all. Inconsiderate peasants, the lot of them.
Reaching his second destination for the day (which happened to always be the ferry dock), John nodded to the familiar blonde bobbed woman that stood in front of him. "Guess who?" he said with a barely audible laugh, waving his hands in front of the doctor's face from his stance behind her.
"I don't have to guess when your ink-stained hands are the only thing in sight" the doctor responded in her false falsetto, a small smile gracing her features as she moved her head to look behind her at the silly messenger. He flashed her a wide grin in an instant, revealing his buck teeth. The messenger then walked around the woman, turned around to face her, outstretched his arms on either side of him, and walked backwards down the wooden boards of the dock.
"Hey, at least that means I'm doing my job! What about you, Doctor Lalonde? Save any lives?" John stopped when he was teetering off the edge of the dock and let his hands fall back to his side with a loud smack against his thighs. "How was your night, doctor—filled with adventures?"
There the messenger went off about adventures again, thought the doctor. He should really just invest in an adventure of his own already to get the idea out of his head. Once he realized what risks they entailed, he'd soon move on from the topic.
"First of all, you should know how severe some cases are that I take up. As usual, many die in my care and there is nothing I can do about it. At least I tried, is all I can say to the relatives when they blame me for their loss. On a happier note, I did help a young girl over in Hopeland Kingdom yesterday that had been bleeding profusely from a wound, and she recovering rather remarkably now. How about you share the latest political issue with me now, Sir Egbert" the doctor had gradually walked up to the messenger during her response until she was three inches in front of him. The messenger waggled his brows at her serious face before swiveling on his heels to face the dark waters.
Taking in a deep breath, the messenger closed his blue eyes and relished in the cool touch of the soft breeze against his skin. "And you should know that I am forbidden to reveal the content of the scrolls to anyone other than who is meant to hear the scripted word. Anyways—here comes our best friend the ferry man!" John laughed and looked back at the doctor with glistening blue eyes. Though he went through some serious verbal treatment from the royals when he was merely a messenger, the boy always managed a smile that he wore proudly in front of them. He refused to let the royals get his spirit down.
"Well if it isn't my, uh, favorite two people…!" The large ferry had come to a halt in front of John, the side of it against the end of the wooden dock and the ferry man smiling over at them like any other given day. "Bright today, isn't it?"
"Indeed it is, ferry man." The doctor had, once again, beat John to entering the boat first even though he was literally right in front of it. Shaking his head at her rude gesture, John forced any snide remark he would have liked to have said to her at that moment with a goofy grin.
"Shame it isn't so over at Hopeland Kindom though" John commented on their conversation as he carefully stepped on into the boat, then wandered over to the first bench to sit next to the doctor. "But I like getting the chance to wear my cool mask over my face, haha!" The doctor shook her head at John's childish remark, though she couldn't say she disliked that side of the messenger; it brought some joy to her depressing life.
"So, uh, Hopeland it is. Uhhh, any objections?" the ferry man had hiccupped in the middle of the word "objection," and was mildly embarrassed about it. "S-sorry."
"What are you apologizing for, ferry man? And to Hopeland it is, as usual" Doctor Lalonde lifted her head and looked on at the hooded man with a raised eyebrow.
"Sorry! I mean, not sorry? Heh heh." The ferry man shifted the long oar and off the boat went, the doctor sighing at the ferry man's response while the messenger next to her hummed a nonsensical tune. Well, whatever made him happy.
"In any case, how was your late night on the job, ferry man?" the doctor asked, feeling the need to fill in the growing awkward silence.
"It was, uh, okay I guess…but always kind of, er, scary." By "scary," he meant the suspicious that characters that often boarded his ferry Tuesday and Thursday nights when he stayed out past midnight. Actually, that night in particular had been a little too frightening for him—especially after he flipped through the book the shady man left behind.
The night had been cool as usual, and a light breeze could just barely be made out against the tan skin beneath the ferry man's thick hood. The jubilant man had dropped the messenger and doctor off a few minutes ago, and was just about to sail off when a familiar hoarse voice shouted after him. He sounded out of breath as well as appeared to be in a hurry to escape Tartaunus. So he forced the long boat to curve backward, wondering what was freaking the man out.
"Hello there, Sir. A-are you alright?" the ferry man asked the small male once he had reached the boat. "Uh, where to?"
"No time for that just go—now!" the short man yelled at the ferry man as he swung his body over the edge rim of the boat, sliding onto the first bench with reddened cheeks and covered head-to-toe in black clothing. There were two sickles in his hand and the right one was suspiciously red. The ferry man did not question him any further.
"U-uuuuhhh, I kind of need to…know the location."
"Brinkman, God! Fucking hurry up man!"
"O-okay, S-sir!" And the ferry man did exactly that, hurried it along the dark waters of Lake Doombreak. The ride was silent, save for the heavy breathing of the short man behind him, but the ferry man could hear his own heart pounding in his ears from fear that the man might try to attack him just for being witness to his…murder weapons? The only other sound was a nail-scratching-on-parchment resonance around him, echoing off of the waters and grating on the ferry man's nerves. Just what was the short man behind him doing? The ferry man didn't dare look, but he figured it out when the boat had stopped in front of the dim Brinkman port light and the man jumped right off of the boat. He didn't even pay the fare! However, he did leave a little something behind: a black leather-bound packet of parchment on the bench. The short man was in such a hurry that he must have forgotten all about it!
Picking up the book now, the ferry man lifted his head and called out to the short man—but he had already crossed out of ear shot.
"Any event in particular bother you last night?" The ferry man snapped out of his reverie when the doctor spoke out again, worry written on her face since the ferry man had gone silent for a while. "You can always tell me, ferry man."
"Here we go with your therapy sessions again..."
"Oh keep quiet, Sir Egbert. You know I only want to help people" the doctor bonked her hand atop the messenger's head, and he laughed at her serious playfulness.
"Well there was a, um, short angry man that showed up after you both left. He, uh, left a book behind…I added it to my, er, collection over there" the ferry man looked behind him in favor of pointing toward his fantasy book collection he carried with him in case of a lack of passengers.
"Oh yeah, I had nearly forgotten about that little stack you have going on over there," the doctor glanced down at the pile behind the third and last bench underneath the half wooden hood of the boat (for rainy days and complaining nobles).
"It uh, used to be bigger. People like to steal from me…they're sneaky. Especially the, uh, noble women who secretly read." The ferry man would never forget about the green duchess that had made do with one of his books. Too bad for her it was the most boring one.
"So I've heard…anyways, it looks like we're here!" The doctor stood up as the boat neared the wooden dock. John soon joined her with an unbreakable smile even as he pulled the black mask over his mouth and nose. "I shall be seeing you later tonight, and hopefully not past curfew this time. I sincerely apologize for that, ferry man."
"O-oh no need! It was my late night, anyways!" the ferry man forced the long boat to a halt and flashed them his signature smile.
"Heh, bye!" the messenger waved back at him when the doctor had stepped onto the dock, then followed after her. The future passengers that had been waiting bye the bell shook their heads at the two, finding it odd that they actually spoke to the ferry man.
As the ferry man pulled away, the messenger and doctor wandered on down the brick road toward the market area. It was easier for John to reach the castle, passing the multitude of business stands. This time, however, he chose to stop with Doctor Lalonde at the baker's stand since he had missed breakfast that morning.
"Good day, baker. The usual for me, and I don't know about my friend here, but I'm sure he'd love to try your excellent bread" the doctor greeted the baker in a false falsetto (as usual).
"H-hey! I can order for myself!" the messenger dropped his jaw at the doctor's remark, but was aware that it was only a playful inquiry and left it at that. "Yeah, I'll try a slice of your signature bread and maybe a milk bottle."
"Ah, first of the day to want a bottle of milk! You do they come pretty pricey now, right, Sir?" the baker said while wrapping up a couple of cream puffs for the doctor, looking at John with a raised black brow. They were only expensive because he had to go out of his way to obtain them from the farmer a mile away from his personal abode.
"That's fine!" the messenger flashed him a toothy grin and bounced on his toes, his hunger almost taking over him. He could only imagine what it was like to be a starving peasant, ravenous and battling delirium.
"That'll be a quarter of a Euro as usual, Ma'am" the baker winked at her as she produced her cent to pay him; the messenger confused at how he knew her true identity.
"Wha…?" the messenger started, but was completely ignored and had to wait for the baker to help a new customer before he was given what he requested, the doctor leaving his side without saying good-bye. Rude.
"Did I not jus' tell 'er ta stay out a' the matter a' the assassinations?! Gah! Woman never listens, honestly!" A muscular man covered head-to-toe in gold jewelry as well as violet armor glared down at the messenger. He was quite the intimidating character, and John loathed it when he yelled at him. He was only the messenger! "First a' all, tell 'er ta stop meddlin' an' drop it."
"Would you like that to be recorded as your exact words, you majesty?" It took all of John's willpower to refrain from squeaking under the man's menacing stare.
"No, fool! Figure it out! Anyways, yer ta also tell 'er that the witch suspect is ta be finished once an' for all tonight, an' I ain't hearin' nothin' else. It's obvious that she had a hand in it, and I'm sick a' havin' my men investigatin' when it's so blatantly obvious that that there widow of Brinkman is ta one responsible. Now get out of my face, mouse!" the King bellowed out and then laughed in triumph when the messenger cringed, scrambled, and dashed toward the door after bowing to him.
"An' don't forget ta inform the public, either! I want them stormin' 'er place tonight before curfew!"
Nightfall had come quicker than the lady in red would have liked, and she found herself stuck in the middle of the pitch black forest. She thought she had been walking forever when she finally started to recognize her surroundings, the blue exotic woman's home clear as day to her. Red-painted lips turned up into a smile, the widow picked up the pace, pushing stray branches aside on her way.
It was the bright orange and yellow colors that broke the black of the night that had her stopping in her tracks. That was her home on fire! There were shouts from men, cruel and distasteful as they cracked jokes about her witch doctor career. From what she gathered about the event, they had come to kill her.
"Hey, did you hear something chap?"
Heart pounding in her ears, the widow turned on her black flats' heels, running on past the dark trees that looked on at her like demons. Her silky red dress fluttered behind her and she snapped so many twigs but she didn't care; she had to get out of there as fast as she could, and pray that she make it out of the Kingdom alive. She had been running so fast that she forgot the forest was on a slope, and stumbled over a rock she had stubbed her toe on even through her shoe. Hitting the Earth hard, she groaned and rolled on over to lay on her back, her breath coming out in short pants and fogging up above her in the cold night air. Swallowing a huge gulp of air, the widow forced herself to sit back up, though her body ached. Standing now, she wobbled on her feet before she picked up into a run again, male voices not far from behind her. How long had they been following her?!
Dim light not far from her reach now, the widow called out to the ferry boat—it was starting to move away from the port! Running as fast as her skinny out-of-shape body allowed, the widow started waving her hands about in the air and even whistling to get his attention. The two passengers on his boat were the ones that noticed her emergency tactics, and she stopped in front of the bell that hung on a stand in case the ferry man was nearby but not close enough. She wrung the bell even though it was clear that the two passengers were persuading the ferry man to turn around. The widow could never be too careful.
Moving backward in order to effectively pull up against the dock against, the ferry boat rubbed up against the wood and creaked. "Heh heh, sorry about that Ma'am."
Easing herself over the edge and into the large boat, the widow nodded at the hooded man with a small smile, though her eyebrows were creased with worry. Men's shouts could be heard from the woods. She sat down on the front bench, but with good distance between her and the other two passengers. "I don't suppose you could be quick to leave. I am in a hurry, if you couldn't tell" she asked him in soft tone, red-painted lips quivering.
"Might you be the suspected witch?" the feminine-looking male passenger proposed, leaning forward to look on at the widow since the other male passenger was blocking his view.
Lips quirked up into a sheepish smile, the widow leaned forward as well to speak to passenger one more properly, her black tresses falling over her shoulder as she did so. "I may be said witch doctoring widow, but I assure you that I am not an actual witch." She paused for good measure. "They burned down my house, my home. I have nowhere better to go than the opposite Kingdom. Do you think I will be able to take up residence there?"
"Haha, I doubt that!"
"Sir Egbert!" passenger number one bonked passenger number two on the head, and shook "his" head. "Look, I'm sure you can find some way." The doctor leaned back again and tapped her chin, as if contemplating something. "I could probably let you stay with me, but it would be very briefly. You would have to wear something much more 'poor,' of course as well as appear to be ill, though. I have plenty of rags at my place to suit you up in for the time being."
"I would advise you, uh, cut your hair too. The length is…uhh…intimidating?" the ferry man added, however at a loss for the right words. More like he just didn't want to resort to using "witchy."
"Why thank you so much, good Sir! Though may I ask why you would do this for me? I have no way of repaying you, either…but I do plan to do so!" the widow cheered up and looked over at the doctor with glistening eyes. Said doctor chuckled while passenger two waved his arms about to get their attention, annoyed that they had ignored his existence entirely.
"Let's just say I have a little 'predicament' myself going on, hmm. Oh and the ferry man has a point. If you plan to keep those lovely locks of yours, then I apologize but you're going to have to 'rat it up.' As in, tangle your hair so that it looks peasant-like and follow along with the sick act well. It would be bad for you and I say your identity were to be discovered" the doctor said while looking forward at the nearing port. "Almost there, so stop whining Sir Egbert."
"But you're being mean Doctor Lalonde! Humph!" Sir Egbert pouted like a puppy at the doctor, and she shook her head at him in response.
"Well alright: if it saves me for even a little amount of time, I will do as you say and tangle my hair into a frizzy mess. Again, thank you so much for this! How can I ever repay you, Doctor?"
"You can start out by dropping the idea of repayment. Your gratitude is good enough for me. Besides, this is what I like to do: help people. Now rat up that hair already, time is wasting away now."
Oh, the doctor was far too kind.