Devil's Rock - Chris Speyer [68]
A sly smile spread across the brute’s face. ‘Crab, get out!’
‘No,’ I said, ‘I can’t show you now. I need to make some preparations and I need to be certain that we will not be disturbed.’
Maunder’s face darkened with suspicion but I stared him out. ‘All right, I’ll give ’ee till tonight. Meet me on the beach.’ He released the hold on my neck and marched out of the house. Crab scuttled after him but paused before leaving. ‘You’ll see what we do to witches,’ he sneered before disappearing.
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So, I was a witch, was I? Then I would make a witch’s brew. As soon as Maunder and Crab were out of sight, I took up Mrs Ball’s basket and set out to collect those leaves and berries I knew to contain deadly poisons. If I could not use the bracelet to rid the world of Maunder, then I would use the secrets Mrs Ball had taught me. As I gathered my ingredients I began to plot how I might persuade Maunder to swallow my medicine. The skull of a sheep, complete with curling horns, lying by the cliff path gave me an idea. Maunder was already half convinced that I was a witch. I might not be able to call up a demon any time I wished, but I could create phantasms: birds, animals, serpents, anything I was capable of imagining I could bring to fleeting life. With a bit of stagecraft and imagination I would become the witch he imagined me to be.
Returning to the cottage, I set my evil brew over the fire while I prepared the properties for my performance. The sheep’s horns would be my drinking vessels, its skull and leg bone would be my drum, and Mrs Ball’s cooking pot would be my cauldron. I mixed wood ash with fat and made a grey paste with which I painted my face in a ghostly mask. With a finger dipped in charcoal I drew black rings around my eyes. I rubbed red earth into my hair and plaited small bones into the ends of the matted tresses. I chewed berries until my mouth turned blue. My clothes were already worn to rags; it took little effort to convert them into a witch-like costume of shreds and tatters.
Mrs Ball’s screamed with horror when she caught sight of me, but I wonder whether this ruse would work on Maunder?
As the sun began to set, I hid my disguise beneath a hooded cloak borrowed from Mrs Ball, placed the sheep’s bones and horns in a bag, took up my cauldron and stepped out to keep my rendezvous. The brave old lady offered to accompany me, but I begged her instead to look after my sister. As I made my way down the hill into the darkness of the valley, I wondered if I should have told Una of my plan.
Approaching the beach, I saw a cluster of shadowy figures out on the pale sand, some holding lanterns. Drawing nearer, I saw others held unlit torches made from timbers dipped in pitch. To my dismay, Maunder had brought a group of his vile henchmen with him. ‘Who are these people and why are they here?’ I demanded with as bold a voice as I could muster.
‘Some friends o’ mine.’ Maunder replied. And I recognised Crab’s evil snigger from amongst the gathering.
‘I said we were to be alone!’
‘Follow me,’ was all the answer I received.
I was now very much afraid that my masquerade was all for nothing and felt like a silly little girl who dresses up to play-act for the amusement of adults.
The tide was out and Maunder led us across the estuary’s sandy floor. My steps faltered as the realisation struck me; we were headed for Devil’s Rock! Was I, like that poor unfortunate who attempted to shoot Maunder, to be thrown to my death from the rock’s black summit? Two of the party were carrying spades. Maybe they intended to bury me in Stapleton’s field. I chased these morbid thoughts from my mind. No – Maunder wanted to know the secret of my powers. He was not about to kill me before he had gained what he wanted to know.
Reaching the opposite side of the empty estuary, we stopped by a low, seaweed-covered cliff. Half a waning moon peered through the branches of the trees on the hill above and the long ribbons of kelp that hung from the rocks glistened in its thin light.