*doesnt have a title yet
Ch.1 I woke to the sun shining through my window, and the laughter of my children. My sheets were a tangled mass at the foot of my bed, and the covers had fallen to the floor during the night. Nightmares again. I had been having the same nightmare for the past three weeks, without change. I was in the garden when they came. A cloud passed over the sun, shrouding everything in gray, and a chill skittered down my spine. I spun in slow motion just in time to see my children vanish into darkness, my outstretched hand unable to reach them. I cried out their names, and woke up. I shook the memory of the dream from my head and got up to take a shower. I turned on the faucet to hot and let the warm spray hit my skin. I let the water wash away the nightmare and reached for the soap. �Gawain, Aithne.� I called to my children. The day was perfect, the sun shining, a slight breeze whisking along the scents of the herbs in the garden. I could feel the Goddess around me, protecting my children and I from harm. As I walked along the cobblestone path through our lavish garden, my children playing some childish little game off in the distance, I came upon another crystal. This one was orange, banded with lighter orange lines and giving off an almost ethereal glow. Another agate. This would be good for my protection spells. I thought. Too many good witches had disappeared lately, and although we were well known as devout Christians, it couldn�t hurt to have reassurance. I slipped it into my pouch and continued down the path. As my children sprinted to our quaint little cottage, a cloud passed over the sun, glazing everything in an ominous gray, and sending chills down my spine. When I realized the chills were the result of something else, my eyes widened. �Gawain, take your sister down to the basement.� I managed to whisper as I looked around in alarm for the intruders. �But Mom-� �Now Gawain!� I yelled and pushed them into the house, still searching frantically for danger. As the chills grew stronger and panic blasted through me, I closed my eyes, whispering, �They�re here.� When I opened them again, a man I knew well stood on the cobblestone path, looking at me with an emotion very similar to boredom. He was dressed as a priest would, the white collar reflecting what light there was and blinding me. �Mistress Bayden.� he said with authority. �Yes?� I asked, proud that my voice didn�t reveal my inner turmoil. �You are under arrest for the practice of witchcraft, as are your children. Do you have a plea?� �Surely there must be a mistake, for my children and I are faithful Christians and believe only in the Lord God. We do not worship any devil.� I said, looking him in the eye. �Arrest her.� he said in the same authoritative tone. Three men came out of the bushes, and grabbed me roughly by the arms, spilling the crystals onto the walk. I watched them fall and shatter into pieces and saw my hopes go with them. I did not say another word, for I knew these men would not listen to the pleas of a suspected witch, nor her children. I heard crashes within the house, and Aithne crying. I screamed for my children and struggled to run to them, but it was no use. One of the men hit me over the head and I slumped into darkness. I awoke on a cold hard floor, my head aching and my limbs stiff. I groaned as I rolled over, stretching to feel where it hurt. It seemed to be only my head, and when I touched the bump on my scalp, I winced and what had happened came rushing back to me. I scrambled to my feet, throwing myself at the bars that outlined my cell. I screamed for my children, shouted for them, cried for them until I had no voice left, and slumped, silently sobbing, to the floor. Only the dripping of a distant leak kept me from slipping into fatigued darkness. I studied the cracks in the stone floor for what seemed like an eternity before I heard footsteps approach. I jumped to my feet, wanting to know where my children were and who dared accuse us of witchcraft. A man stepped through the door, his sharp blue eyes shining triumphantly beneath curly blond hair. It was a face I knew well, a face I couldn�t believe I was staring at now. This was a man who had been gentle, kind and loving. A man who had held me closely and had sworn to be mine always and forever. A man whose children I cried for. A man who was supposed to be dead. Ch 2. �Drystan.� I said, shocked. �You�re alive.� �And well.� he said, his familiar voice floating over me, but with an edge or hardness now. �You did this?� I asked, hearing my voice trembling. �Why?� �Because Witchcraft is the work of the devil. I am merely saving you from eternal damnation.� he said, a smirk touching his lips. �I know you don�t believe that. What about all the good we did with magic? The memories we shared? Does none of that matter?� he stared at me and I lowered my head. �Come now, Brigit. Surely you know better than that.� he laughed as he walked slowly closer to my cell. �My name is Mistress Bayden, and you are nothing more than a traitor and a liar.� I said through clenched teeth as my head snapped up, eyes meeting his. �Don�t you mean Widow Bayden? And I see that you kept your maiden name. That hurts, it really does. After all we shared together.� He stepped closer, reaching out to caress my cheek. �Surely you remember the nights we spent together under the stars?� I closed my eyes, chills running down my spine. �You said I was the only one you�d ever love, the one you�d love forever, until you died?� He whispered to me through the bars. �It was you who died.� I said forcefully, lashing out. A line of blood trickled from where my nails dug into his cheek. He put a hand to it and, seeing the blood, anger filled his eyes. �You�ll pay for that, witch.� he spat at me, stalking out. �Not as much as you will.� I murmured after him, slumping back to the floor and curling up. As I cried myself to sleep, my only thoughts were of my children. I awoke to a clatter of metal against rock. When I looked up, there stood the priest with a tray of food. The water bowl he had dropped lay on its side, its contents slowly bleeding out onto the floor. �You�re awake.� He said, gently sliding the tray of food through the tray slot. He set the water bowl upright, and pushed that through as well. As I lunged for the water, he sat back, watching me. �You know,� he said as I gulped down the water. �You could save yourself. If you only confessed to worshipping Satan, then you could live you life in peace, with your children, and in the grace of God.� I didn�t say anything, knowing he would twist my words to mean anything other than their actual meanings. Once I was finished with the water, I slumped back against the wall and stared at him. �Are you not going to touch your food?� he asked with a peculiar glint in his eye. I shook my head, knowing that the food was seasoned with something other than spices or salt. �Are you not going to talk to me then?� he asked, shifting uncomfortably. Once again I did not answer. �Well then I shall talk. Do you know what we found in that broken down shack you call a house? We found the markings of witchcraft in every corner. A cauldron, odd herbs, and gemstones that my informant tells me are used very often in the Dark Arts. That alone is enough for a death sentence. But I believe you know more than you�re letting on. I believe you know who every single witch is in this town. And I intend to find out. Until then, I�ll tell your children how you cry for them. They cry for you too, you know.� At the mention of my children, tears sprang to my eyes and I spoke. �Where are they?� it came out as a hoarse whisper. �They are being kept for questioning as well. You should be more worried about yourself, mistress. Your days here will not be easy ones. The sooner you give me what I want, the sooner you may leave. You may want to remember that.� He walked slowly to the door. Stopping at the door, he turned and said, �I look forward to our next talk, mistress. It should be most�interesting.� And with that he left, closing the door behind him and leaving me to my nightmares. Ch. 3 I rested down in the corner where the darkness pooled, closed my eyes and gently laid my head against the cool stone wall, my head throbbing. �It figures you would go to the darkest corner possible.� Drystan said. �You always were melodramatic.� �I think my situation merits a little drama.� I said, without opening my eyes. �How long did you know I was standing here?� he asked, disappointment leaking into his voice. �You never left, Drystan. And invisibility spells were never your strong suit.� I said. �Yes well, I bet I know something you don�t.� he said with an air of mischief. �And what�s that?� I asked, irritated. I opened my eyes, squinting against the light. He was standing inside of my chamber now, holding something wrapped in a blanket. I lunged at him, my rage blinding me, but something held me back. As I tugged against my mysterious captive, Drystan laughed. �You can�t go anywhere.� He said. �I may not be very good at invisibility spells, but as you may remember, my binding spells were unmatchable, even by you. And anyway, you have nowhere to go. But I do have a present for you.� �And what�s that?� I said venomously. He opened the blanket. At first I thought it was a baby, but then I saw the strawberry blond rope hair that I had stitched into the doll myself. �Aithne.� I whispered, a tear trickling down my cheek. �Yes. She cried when I took this from her, but then she was already crying. Your son tried to attack me like a dog. A pathetic attempt. But of course you�re family always was pathetic wasn�t it?� he smirked at me. I laughed, throwing him off. �You always were bad at insults, Drystan. It was what I loved most about you.� �Loved, past tense? You know you still love me.� He said, cutting off my laughter. �You can�t love a dead man. And you most certainly will be dead.� I said with fire in my eyes. His hand was a blur as he slapped me, hard. �That hurt, Drystan. So this is what you do now, beat women? The man I married couldn�t hurt a mosquito, much less anything else.� He kicked me in the stomach, making me gasp. I tasted blood in my mouth, but continued. �But then again, I guess �man� is too strong a word for you, isn�t it?� Anger radiating from him, he punched me as hard as possible, sending me careening into darkness. I woke on the floor of my cell unbound and with fresh food placed before me. I was reaching for the water bowl when pain in my abdomen made me cry out and contract into a ball. A malicious laugh sounded from the doorway. �Maybe you should be more careful.� Drystan said, leaning against the doorframe. �Well, next time I�ll just have to leave you bound so you don�t hurt yourself.� �Go to hell, Drystan.� I said through gritted teeth. �I thought witches didn�t believe in hell.� He said with a smirk, walking over to press his face against the bars. �And speaking of witches, I looked into some history of the Bayden clan.� He flipped open a notebook and read, ��The Bayden clan is prophesied to produce the most powerful witch in history, a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter.� Now isn�t that interesting. Wasn�t your mother a seventh daughter? And you have six other sisters, correct?� �What�s your point?� I choked out, struggling to rise to my feet. �My point, darling, is that if you are this all powerful witch, why not use your powers to help you? Use them to find your children and go back to your peaceful little life in your peaceful little cottage.� �If I remember correctly, Drystan, you built that peaceful little cottage and loved that peaceful little life to which you so derogatively referred.� I said, painfully crossing my arms and leaning against the wall. �And I don�t have any powers, you know that.� �We�ll see about that. You know, you look like you could use a shower. I�ll have Father Jeremiah set something up; he�s very fond of you, you know.� He strode out; leaving me reposed against the wall, fighting to catch my breath. I slid to the floor, tears trickling down my face as my thoughts went to my children. Gawain would most likely be shouting at the guards, demanding they set him free, and Aithne would be sitting quietly, thinking of a way out. I hoped they would be safe. That night it rained so hard I could feel the thunder match my sobs as I cried myself to sleep.
