Hawthorn blinked. “You didn’t seem to mind it last night when you scoffed down me stew.”
“I-I thought that was vegetable stew.”
“It was. Vegetable with bits of chicken scattered about.”
Rowena’s belly lurched.
“Come on. A mouthful of bread every now and then isn’t enough to keep a young woman going.” Hawthorn grinned. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll cook a big meal and you can decide if you want to eat it.”
Rowena nodded. “At least let me help.”
Hawthorn took a very sharp knife out of the leather sheath that hung from her belt. “Since you like vegetables so much, how about you chop em up.
Hawthorn diced the rabbits and plopped them into a bubbling cauldron along with onions, carrots, and herbs. A delicious aroma drifted from the stew and filled the room.
Rowena sat at the table and watched as Hawthorn continued to throw ingredients in the pot. “Do you know where they are taking the women from my village?” she asked.
Hawthorn stopped and sighed. “I expect they will be taken to the city.”
“What happens there?”
“They will be put into prisons then put on trial.”
“Like my mother?” Rowena looked down at her lap.
“Yes, my child.” Hawthorn wise black eyes locked onto Rowena’s green ones,
and Rowena saw something in those eyes she’d never seen before. Raw grief.
Rowena’s eyes drifted towards the ornate book sitting on the table. Hawthorn followed her gaze.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” said Hawthorn, reading Rowena’s thoughts.
“Yes. I’m quite taken by it. There’s something other than its beauty. It’s…”
“Magical.” Hawthorn finished Rowena’s sentence for her.
“It is. May I read it?”
“One day you will read it.” Hawthorn stirred the rabbit stew. “Rowena, I don’t know if you realize it yet, but there is a very long journey ahead of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“The villagers that were taken last night. They need your help. You cannot imagine what is happening to them.”
“What’s happening to them?” Rowena's throat tightened.
“First, they will be tortured until they admit they are witches. If they admit it, they will be burnt at the stake.” Hawthorn lowered her head, closed her eyes.
Rowena wondered what type of beast could do a thing like that to another person. “What if they don’t admit to being a witch?” she asked.
“They are still burnt at the stake. If they don’t die first from the torture.”
Rowena’s hands tingled. She felt like she might lose the use of her limbs at any moment. “What do I have to do?”
“There’s nothing we can do to save these women. Not their bodies anyway.” Hawthorn mixed dough in a bowl. “But what I want you to do is to travel to Witches Hill and try to make the last terrifying days of these women bearable. They need to know they will be looked after.” They sat in silence while the stew steamed up the room. When it was done, Hawthorn scooped two servings into bowls. Rowena stared down at the stew. Then she thought of her friend Isabel sitting in some pit somewhere, going through who knew what.
“Eat up, Rowena. You are going to need it.”
Rowena nodded. She picked up the bowl and sipped the hot broth slowly. The tasty liquid slid down her throat and filled her with calm. Appetite satisfied, she looked back at Hawthorn who was clearing the bowls from the table.
“Rowena you must be strong through all of this. You are going to see some terrible sights.”
“I know.”
“After you have warned the villagers of Oakwood to get as far away as possible, ask their messenger to relay the message to the surrounding villages. You will meet a man called Jonathon in Oakwood. He is known to the hunters and they trust him. However, he secretly does not approve of what they do and has promised me he will help in any way he can. He will take you to his home and look after you, then travel to CHECK! where the trials will take place.”
Rowena listened attentively as Hawthorn continued. “You will then be disguised as the sister of Jonathon’s friend, Ronan, and taken to the city where you will be given a job of feeding the women and children who were so cruelly taken.”
“They will let me go to the prisons and feed them?”
“Jonathon is going to set you up as a prison maid.”
Rowena shivered. She didn’t know how she was going to act around the people who intended to burn her friends alive. “When do I leave?” she asked.
“It is too dangerous to leave in the daylight. The hunters will still be looking for survivors. You should get some rest now because you leave at sundown.”
Rowena watched through the small window as the sun lowered, leaving a shadowy presence in the forest. Rest seemed impossible as she tossed and turned on the straw mattress, thinking about the journey ahead. Ants marched in her insides, yet at the same time, she was eager to leave. She must have dozed off at some point. When she rose, Hawthorn was nowhere to be seen. Yelling and crashing outside the door startled her. It was Hawthorn’s voice. Rowena rushed to the door, pulled it open and found her yelling at a stubborn looking mule. She laughed, and Hawthorn spun around. Her hair was even more wild than earlier. This time it was adorned with straw.
“I woke you, didn’t I?”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
“Well, you should be able to get some sleep with Jonathon tonight.”
“Hawthorn! Surely we’ll be in separate sleeping quarters.”
Rowena smiled, wondering what this Jonathon even looked like.
“He’s very good looking, my dear,” Hawthorn said, again reading Rowena’s mind. “Anyway, I think some introductions are in order. This is old Buttercup the mule.” Hawthorn turned to Buttercup. “This is Rowena, Buttercup.”
Rowena laughed and walked toward the old mule and stroked her mane.
“Hello, girl” Rowena whispered in Buttercup’s ear.
Hawthorn had finished stocking Buttercup’s saddlebags with food and water. There was enough dried meat, bread, cheese, and mead to last a few days at least. Rowena had plaited her waist-length black hair and was dressed warmly in a long woolen forest green tunic dress, a long grey cloak, and stockings with fur-lined knee-high boots.
“Are you ready, child?” Hawthorn took a small leather pouch out of her pocket.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good. Take this.” Hawthorn took Rowena’s hand and placed the pouch into her hand. “You are to keep this amulet on you at all times. It is empowered with a protection spell.”
Rowena shook the contents of the pouch on to her palm and saw the most magnificent necklace she had ever seen. A perfect sphere, it shone luminously in her hand. She stared at the moonstone. She swore she could see movement inside.
“It’s beautiful.”
“It is a very special moonstone. You must not lose it.”
“I will guard it with my life.”
“And it will guard yours.” Hawthorn smiled at Rowena. “You know what you must do. The Goddess will be with you.”
Rowena placed the moonstone back into the pouch and hung the pouch around her neck with sinew.