Forbidden Fables, page 15
I still leave my body, and I’m not sorry.
I had become a powerful woman with magical powers because of those travels, and I will do it all again, given the choice. I craved the blood sometimes, the soul sacrifice that only seemed to add to my magical gifts.
I have my watchdog now, and he will never allow my vulnerable, sleeping form to come to any harm.
“What now, of the boy? Whoever Thomas has with him is hidden well. There are many small towns around the outskirts of these woods.”
Garm bellows as he enters the garden gate, now standing in front of me with his arms crossed over his barrel chest.
I stare down at my blackened fingertips, a stark contrast to the silver and jeweled rings I wore on my fingers. “Do not fret, he will come. The Mother commands it, and so it will be.”
Chapter 7
Charity
“We must keep a clean cunny if we want to stay closer to God,” Clarise mocks Thomas’ words behind me as we walk up the hill and toward the community garden. Of course, he will never, ever say that word, but Clarise mocks him with it.
I roll my eyes and lift the hem of my dress so I don’t trip. The garden looks overgrown and dull, with not many vegetables viable enough for food. The few herbs in the upper right corner have done well, mostly because they are mine. I watered them daily and spoke kind words to them before I took my leave, sharing stories from my days…and nights.
“He didn’t really say that Clarise. He said, ‘Clean mind, closer to God.’”
“Perhaps that’s what you heard, but I heard different. I bet that man has the vilest thoughts of all, his guilt projected onto all of us—the young ones.”
I giggle. “Clarise!”
She sits beside a small patch of daisies, taking a soft roll of bread and cheese wrapped in a towel from her dress pocket.
“You didn’t,” I chide, both hands on my hips looking down over her petite frame.
She cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, I certainly did. Sit.”
I do as she tells me, my belly too empty to argue.
“Breaking all of the rules…you better ask for forgiveness,” I said, raising one eyebrow and breaking a small piece of cheese from the lump.
Clarise lets out a puff of air through her thin lips, shoving a piece of bread far too big to fit into her mouth.
“Afternoon, ladies!” a sweet, lilting voice calls from behind us.
I look over my shoulder, hardly believing my eyes.
Tris sprints up the hill, her skirts ruffled in her hands, her lush thighs peeking out from beneath.
As if she hadn’t betrayed me just the night before.
The wind moves her sun-kissed hair gently in the breeze, and she’s wearing a new corset under her tightly hugging dress. I can tell just because her tits spill triumphantly over the top in a way I have never seen before.
My sister gives me a long stare, but I turn away, cheerily waving over my friend.
I truly suffer a weakness for her, and I pray to God silently to take it away.
When Tris is seated, I stare at the plump mounds spilling over her low neckline, and I can feel my lips twitch and my mouth begin to water.
What I will give to see one released, so I might capture it in my mouth.
I snap my eyes back to her face, and she is smiling sweetly at Clarise.
Clarise gives a generous sigh and begins to stand.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it…” she eyes us both but keeps her eyes locked with mine as she smooths her skirts to stand.
I’m not sure if she knows about us, but I have an inkling she knows my feelings.
“Good morning, Charity.”
“Good morning, Tris.” I smile, looking around her shoulder to make sure my sister has disappeared down the hill.
I reach for her, eager to feel her mouth on mine, but she pulls away.
“I need to talk with you…and I know this isn’t going to be easy to say,” she says, her blue eyes shining brightly through her thick lashes.
“Easy? What do you mean? Do you not want to be my friend anymore?” I ask in a panic.
“It’s not that…I…I’m engaged to be married, and this cannot continue.” She scootches back a little on the grass, and I look down at her small hands, a gold band with a pin-pricked gem at the top, sitting on her left ring finger.
My voice catches in my throat, and I blink back tears. I know how foolish my reaction is; these illicit acts only began between us over the last year. But it takes the air from my lungs to think of her absence—no more stolen kisses or gossiping during chores. No more quiet walks through the garden complaining about all life lacked. The thought of not being with her every day made me feel as if I am falling.
Falling with nothing to catch me.
I smooth my skirts with my hands, unable to make eye contact with her. I am afraid I will break under her gaze, and I do not want her to know how much this is breaking me.
“Oh…okay. I understand. It must be the will of our Lord.” I smile, taking her ringed hand. “I’m happy for you.”
She smiles awkwardly and says, “I did…enjoy our time. I just think…it was sort of like practice for me. Do you know what I mean?”
I cringed slightly at the word practice.
If there is a sharp dagger between my breasts, she just turned it slowly, and now the ache begins to burn.
“Me too.” It is all I can manage.
Tris stands, a sigh of relief leaving her chest. “I’m so glad you understand, Cher. I’ll see you around.”
She turns, running down the hill, a freedom in her step I didn’t recognize. I hold back tears as the wind picks up.
If it is Tris’ fate to be married off, I am sure I willn’t be far behind her. I have a feeling Thomas has already secured an arrangement with her father, the Doctor.
If I am to be married to her brother, seeing her every day without being able to touch her is surely a punishment at the hands of God.
Chapter 8
Charles
“Icannot keep lying this way, even if it is God’s will.” I sit with steepled hands atop the meeting table inside Thomas’ chambers.
“It is not just God’s will. You are one of the chosen, are you not grateful?” Thomas says, tossing back a second chalice of wine.
“With all due respect, it will give me great pleasure to lead the church, but not at the price of a woman’s life.” I glare down at my hands, willing them to stay still and not shake.
“They are not women. They are demons inhabiting a woman’s already extinguished soul. You are doing Him a service!” he yells, slamming down the cup on the small altar. “What you need to be thinking about, Charles, is the larger picture. The life in London, aligned with one of the most powerful men of our flock. willn’t you find pleasure in that?”
I don’t say a thing, only continue to stare at my hands while I give him a small nod.
Charity’s round face and brown eyes come into view, her enchanting laugh and even more enthralling lips. I have an inherent desire to protect her since the very moment we met. Something perhaps unexplainable yet necessary. I will never let anything happen to her, even if it meant sacrificing myself in her place. I didn’t need to be a respected man of the church; I can start a family and live a humble life somewhere else, somewhere far away from Thomas.
“Now, we will announce the lockdown at once, and tell everyone that they need to stay inside before dusk falls. We cannot go calling for witches to be burned if the town is not in anything less than a panic.” He rests his fingertips on his lips, pacing around the small room until he stands in front of me. “Do you know of any…promiscuous, perhaps, curious girls?”
Charity immediately comes to mind, but I refuse to give him any inclination of my knowledge.
His breath is sour, and his face is far too close to mine for my liking. “Promiscuous? Sexually insatiable you mean?” I ask.
He nods, leaning his head back and raising his eyebrows.
Abruptly, I get up from the table, pacing just as he did earlier. My first thought darts back to Charity, all those nights I came to bed late, and I can hear her soft whimpers and moans. I shake my head no, but I don’t meet his eyes.
He grabs me by my collar and shoves me against the back wall, my head slamming into it. “What did you expect to happen when you agreed to be ordinated? Did you think you will only need to sit on your knees and pray?” He seethes into my face, spit trickling down his beard.
Certainly not burning women. Here I thought Domenico is trying to help me.
Call me ambitious, but I wanted to use this opportunity to finance my way into a school for the Arts in France. Hailing from London, the only job that paid well is this one—appointed to me by the man who took me in. According to Domenico, it is an atonement for growing up in a brothel.
I’m shocked that Thomas’ old, weathered body can lift a tall bloke like myself. I hold back the deep urge to push him off me and throw him to the ground.
“I didn’t think it will involve punishment for sexual promiscuity, father.” My voice comes out low and unrecognizable.
Setting me down, he turns, rubbing his mangled right hand with his left.
“Find one. And let me know who she is. Soon. I have debts to pay…a town to save.” He grabs his jacket and leaves, the heavy wooden side door of the church slamming shut.
All I can think about is warning Charity not to sneak out anymore and do whatever vile things she is doing in the dark of the night.
I have seen her sneaking out, and everyone knew nothing righteous happens beyond midnight.
Did I think there were witches hidden among the women of this village?
No.
will I pin the murder of a boy on an innocent person? I can never.
So what is the real reason Thomas wanted these women persecuted and possibly burned?
I have a feeling it is far more personal than holy, and the only one who can shed light on this matter is Domenico.
Chapter 9
Charity
Reading lips has become something of a survival instinct for me, years of putting my nose where it didn’t belong. Call it self-preservation, or maybe it is simply a survival skill.
My mother will scold me, and my father will encourage me. He had always wanted to stay one step ahead of the church and the gossip…always wary of following un-seen forces led by blind faith.
Charles and Thomas have been meeting privately at the church since the attacks, and what puzzles me is what business Charles has in the brethren’s decisions since he is so young.
This is the second night in a row they met late at night, long after the sun has set.
Only the older members were allowed inside the Pastor’s chambers, and since the death of the latest Pastor, the town has been anxiously awaiting a sign for a new leader of the church and the town.
It can’t be Charles; he is far too immature to be named a leader of the church, yet Thomas is too old. Isn’t he?
Surely if they appointed either of them, they were all daft. I already have my doubts, and this decision will only solidify them.
And what will I do if that is the case? Leave? No woman makes it far without the companionship and voice of a man.
I creep up to the side of the church, careful not to kick up any gravel. I lean my ear against the heavy door, jerking back slightly as I find it slightly ajar. I poke my head into the open slot, listening and watching Thomas’ lips move quickly.
“…cannot find out who we are. We must continue to lead and be righteous Champion’s to God. You will tell the people that God has chosen me to be this town’s new pastor as told to you by God Himself.”
I pull back a little, hidden more by the shadow of the small roof, gasping in disbelief at Thomas’ bold lie.
I stare intently now at Charles’ face, waiting for his response.
“…I will not lie. There must be another way. Perhaps we can encourage someone else to say it by way of repayment or an owed debt.”
“Now you’re using your noggin, boy. Find out who is sneaking around at night, there is bound to be some pent-up teen with a tiger in his pants. Once you know, I will take care of the rest.”
A carriage drives by, and the words that came next are lost to me at the distraction. I lean in a little further, eager to know what Charles’ response is, but instead, I trip over my untied shoes and fall into the door and inside the room.
I stay like that for a full minute, not wanting to see the shock on their faces.
“Get her out! A woman’s blood will erase every holy aspect of these chambers!” Thomas yells, and Charles is already helping me to my feet before he can finish yelling. Wiping the dirt from my palms, I back up and out the door, Charles firmly gripping my elbow.
“You’re hurting me!” I shout as I jerk my arm from his grasp. He shuts the door gently behind us, and I watch as he brings his finger up to his mouth to shush me.
He walks up the dirt road toward our small home, waving me to him. His tight breeches hug his muscular thighs and I chastise myself for enjoying the view of his rear.
Perhaps I am full of the devil, these sexual thoughts occurring to me more and more since I started touching myself…touching Tris. I am a needy ball of pent-up sexual desire, just waiting to be explored.
I stand in place, scowling at him, but follow anyways since this is the most excitement I’ve had in days.
Stomping up behind him, I hiss, “What lies do you have to tell me, Charles? Or are you the good one and Thomas is the bad one?”
He strides towards me in two quick steps, and my breath catches, unsure of what he will do. Shoving his large hands into his pockets he growls,
“You need to ignore these…urges you have. I know more than you think and see more than you know,” he looks around and behind us as if someone will be interested in this illicit conversation, “because I have them too, sometimes. But Thomas is hell bent on finding evil in this town…and he’s using sex as a reason.”
“Burn women as witches because of sex?” I let out a loud laugh, half out of terror and half out of disbelief.
He stops, a serious look crossing his face. “It’s not funny. It’s quite possible innocent women may lose their lives because of his outlandish beliefs. I’m not even sure the Deacon knows about Thomas’ intentions…”
“The Deacon? So, there is more to this story.”
“Honestly, I probably know as much as you do. I am trying to figure out if the old man is crazy or if he seeks vengeance. His passion over the subject makes me believe the latter.”
I squint my eyes, the sun setting behind the forest. I wonder when Thomas will announce his wild claims and at what cost will come of it.
“Tell me, what urges do you have, brother?” I step closer to him, my heart thudding against my chest, and I swear it beats so loudly that he must be able to hear it too.
With his hands still deep inside his pockets, he takes my hand, his lips once again close to mine, only this time, the velvet in his voice sends chills down my spine. “Bringing pleasure to oneself is a sin, and so is sneaking around after dark to lay with another, unmarried. But this…,” he moves my hand to the hard outline of his cock beneath his breeches, “this is what you do to me…and it is something I must ignore.”
My cheeks burn, and my nipples tighten. He turns from me, but not before dragging his blue eyes down over my lips. My hand slips from the spot, and my palm tingles with the need to stroke it just a little.
“You’re saying we need to stop, then?” I ask, level. Desperately wanting to explore more of him…if only he will stop following the rules all the time.
He stops, turning back to me again. “Well, it seems we both have some things to work on.”
I want to stomp my feet, tell him no, but the well-mannered girl I am always forced to be carries my feet dutifully to the house beyond us.
Everyone is gathered around the front of the modest church the next morning, awaiting the announcement of who will take on the new role of Pastor and town leader.
I wear the best dress I can find, a tattered blue floor-length piece that is cinched at the waist. Though I didn’t have nearly the amount of money it cost for a corset, I have hand-crafted my own from some stretched fabric and twigs, giving me that curvaceous form I have only read about in literature. My pinched waist hid my plump thighs beneath the bell of my dress.
Although I will much rather be laying in front of the warm fire with my nose in a book, I am required to be present, as is everyone else who lives here. Not only did the pastor lead the town but reported directly back to London once every few months.
Becoming the pastor is a coveted role for many, but only those of the male faction.
My family never bothered with politics; my mother nothing but a homemaker, and my father brought home pennies running errands for the wealthier side.
After father became ill, Thomas arrived with a remedy for the sickness. Word has traveled quickly of the black death sweeping the countryside, and Thomas arrived as if sent from Heaven on a sturdy steed. The only catch is the heavy coin attached to the medicine, something my family can not afford.
Thomas took pity on our family and sat with my mother as my father’s body faded away from fever. The comfort he brought to my mother remains still, but now his things were there, and my mother only looked back at me in defeat when I will meet her eyes with questions.
While we are taught as children to respect our elders and never speak out of turn, I will often bite my tongue until it stings. holding back the desire to tell this stranger to get out of our house—a home that has not yet grieved the loss of a husband and father.
“Fucking twat. I hope he chokes on a piece of bread someday with no one around to save him.” Clarise steps up beside me, looking as beautiful as a just-blossomed flower. She smells like vanilla and is one of those girls who squeals over anything with more than four legs.
