Excerpt from The Soul of the Witch
(This is a letter from file given to the main character. It is one of many detailing the gift of witchcraft in her family,)
May 1633
My Mistress,
I am but a pitiful man and I throw myself on your mercy and beg your forgiveness. I beg of you to remember the many years of service I have served you as my father did before me, and to judge me as only a man, with a man’s weakness for the flesh.
I came upon Eva Dunne today in the bog. I was making my way to the wood near her cottage and there she was cutting turf for the fire.
I first heard the cry of the baby from his basket and stopped. Eva scurried over to put herself between me and the basket, and looked up me with frightened grey eyes. I bowed and moved past her as if I was going to continue on my way, but the girl called after me, not with a question, but by simply stating that she knew I was the one that watched her.
Mistress, my blood ran cold. I knew that I had never revealed myself to her. I knew then that she was indeed a witch and could see my lies. I looked at her, crouched there on the ground, staring up at me with those smoke colored eyes. I was afraid of her, but thought her very beautiful all the same.
I asked her how she knew that I watched her. She stood and came toward me, slowly, like a cat playing with a mouse. She told me that her grandmother spoke to her about the men that watched over them and warned her to be careful of them.
I wanted to run, but felt a fool for having such a thought. This was only a mere girl, what was there for me to fear?
She stood in before me, a tiny thing she was, and reached up to place her hand on my chest. She asked if it was true, did I mean to harm her?
I told her that I did not. She said I was a liar, but moved even closer. I could almost feel the heat of her skin on my own. I could see the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath and the way her bottom lip was fuller than the top.
Lust overtook me and I pulled her to me and pressed my lips against her throat. I expected her to scream, but instead she fell back against my arms as if that one kiss broke down her resistance. I pulled at dress, unlacing it and letting it fall to her feet.
I looked at her naked body. Her breasts were round with tawny pink nipples, swollen and tender looking, and the hair between her legs was darker, but thin enough I could just see the folds of her flesh through it.
I pulled us both down to the ground, easing her onto her back in the thick sod. I pulled at my priestly robes until I too was naked. She looked up at me, unafraid and waiting. I reached out with one hand and stroked her throat and then with both hands I cupped her breasts. They were full and heavy with milk, her breasts, and I couldn’t help but to lean down and suckle at them.
She moaned softly, but still did not scream as I took some of her sweet milk. I rose up again and moved my hand down her ribs to her stomach and then to the valley between her legs. I cupped her, sliding my finger up into the soft flesh. I felt the wetness come and I felt myself swollen to the point of pain.
I moved between her legs, pushing them apart. When I mounted her, I felt her wrap herself around me and there I was, in the arms of the witch, spilling my seed while I suckled at her breast. Still, she would not release me and I felt myself swelling again and again I spilled my seed into her womb.
We lay there then, in the bog, naked and worn. She told me of her grandmother and the stories of Milicent. She told me that she dreamed of Casey Dunne as her husband and that was the reason she married him. She said that he was to be the father of her son Killian just as I was to be the father of her daughter.
I knew then the terrible error I had made.
Eva looked at me again with those cold grey eyes and said that I had served my purpose and that she would light a candle and pray for my soul after my murder.
My mistress, is that to be my punishment? I beg you for my life. I beg you to remember the years I have given you. I am still your humble servant, but I am only a man with a man’s weaknesses.
Ever your servant, ever watching.
John Gordon
(This is a letter from file given to the main character. It is one of many detailing the gift of witchcraft in her family,)
May 1633
My Mistress,
I am but a pitiful man and I throw myself on your mercy and beg your forgiveness. I beg of you to remember the many years of service I have served you as my father did before me, and to judge me as only a man, with a man’s weakness for the flesh.
I came upon Eva Dunne today in the bog. I was making my way to the wood near her cottage and there she was cutting turf for the fire.
I first heard the cry of the baby from his basket and stopped. Eva scurried over to put herself between me and the basket, and looked up me with frightened grey eyes. I bowed and moved past her as if I was going to continue on my way, but the girl called after me, not with a question, but by simply stating that she knew I was the one that watched her.
Mistress, my blood ran cold. I knew that I had never revealed myself to her. I knew then that she was indeed a witch and could see my lies. I looked at her, crouched there on the ground, staring up at me with those smoke colored eyes. I was afraid of her, but thought her very beautiful all the same.
I asked her how she knew that I watched her. She stood and came toward me, slowly, like a cat playing with a mouse. She told me that her grandmother spoke to her about the men that watched over them and warned her to be careful of them.
I wanted to run, but felt a fool for having such a thought. This was only a mere girl, what was there for me to fear?
She stood in before me, a tiny thing she was, and reached up to place her hand on my chest. She asked if it was true, did I mean to harm her?
I told her that I did not. She said I was a liar, but moved even closer. I could almost feel the heat of her skin on my own. I could see the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath and the way her bottom lip was fuller than the top.
Lust overtook me and I pulled her to me and pressed my lips against her throat. I expected her to scream, but instead she fell back against my arms as if that one kiss broke down her resistance. I pulled at dress, unlacing it and letting it fall to her feet.
I looked at her naked body. Her breasts were round with tawny pink nipples, swollen and tender looking, and the hair between her legs was darker, but thin enough I could just see the folds of her flesh through it.
I pulled us both down to the ground, easing her onto her back in the thick sod. I pulled at my priestly robes until I too was naked. She looked up at me, unafraid and waiting. I reached out with one hand and stroked her throat and then with both hands I cupped her breasts. They were full and heavy with milk, her breasts, and I couldn’t help but to lean down and suckle at them.
She moaned softly, but still did not scream as I took some of her sweet milk. I rose up again and moved my hand down her ribs to her stomach and then to the valley between her legs. I cupped her, sliding my finger up into the soft flesh. I felt the wetness come and I felt myself swollen to the point of pain.
I moved between her legs, pushing them apart. When I mounted her, I felt her wrap herself around me and there I was, in the arms of the witch, spilling my seed while I suckled at her breast. Still, she would not release me and I felt myself swelling again and again I spilled my seed into her womb.
We lay there then, in the bog, naked and worn. She told me of her grandmother and the stories of Milicent. She told me that she dreamed of Casey Dunne as her husband and that was the reason she married him. She said that he was to be the father of her son Killian just as I was to be the father of her daughter.
I knew then the terrible error I had made.
Eva looked at me again with those cold grey eyes and said that I had served my purpose and that she would light a candle and pray for my soul after my murder.
My mistress, is that to be my punishment? I beg you for my life. I beg you to remember the years I have given you. I am still your humble servant, but I am only a man with a man’s weaknesses.
Ever your servant, ever watching.
John Gordon
