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Fiction » Fantasy » Witchmother font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: Muted Dragon
Fiction Rated: K+ - English - Fantasy/Humor - Reviews: 13 - Published: 01-31-05 - Updated: 03-17-07 - id:1821858
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Witchmother by Muted Dragon

This summer has been one of the hottest known to mortals and immortals. I should have gone north as the other winter witches had, but I still had to tend to my herbs and make certain those in my part of the mountainside were safe before I left. I wish I had left with them, even if some of them are worse than mortals.

I knelt beside a flowing river, not hard to find in the summer. As I reached in, a small fuzzy brown spot entered the corner of my eye as it went over the cliff. I did not notice it until I heard the splash as the river broke its fall. I looked up, a bit annoyed something had destroyed my peace. A bear cub’s head popped out of the water. Its nostrils opened and unleashed a pained call. Whom it called for, I did not know. It stared at me. I felt its heart in mine, pleading and afraid. I looked up to where it had come and noticed the horsemen. Perhaps half a dozen, I could not be sure. The sun was at their back.

“Forget the bear’s hide! We’ve found a witch!” One of them shouted, noticing the spell book at my side. Its encrusted talismans must have caught the sunlight. “We will get a handsome reward for her!”

A soft moan called from my side as I felt a spray of water and bear sweat. The cub stared into me and whimpered. Its dark eyes matched mine. Even its hide matched my hair’s darkness. Its mother could not be alive if the men were already speaking about using her hide. It was an orphan, a victim of the mortals. How alike we were from the moment the journey began…

I enchanted the cub to make him more manageable in weight, and picked it up with one hand, not minding its wetness—much.

With the other hand, I snatched up my spell book, and ran. I would have teleported us, but with my magic awry because of the heat, we could have ended up at the bottom of the sea or in a prison with no way out with my level of magic. I could not risk that, especially with the cub. Alone, I could endure anything, but with something now depending on me, I could not risk its life due to my inexperience. Note to self: practice more…as soon as I get out of this situation.

We ran with the horsemen quickly closing the gap between us. Finally, I could run no more and turned about to face them. My anger was beginning to take hold, calling on my powers to fight. That was when another set of horsemen arrived. They bore the banner of the king in the province, a shield with a spear. Damn war raging mortals, didn’t they have anything better to do? The cub must have sensed my anger as it squirmed out of my arms and landed softly on its paws. It immediately took a protective stance in front of me. It bared its teeth as its upper lip quivered. Its nostrils flared, taking in the horrid mortal stench. Perhaps it already knew about its mother’s death, and it was not going to let me be lost to these men either.

“Orders from the king,” the leader of the royal brigade shouted to the outlaws. He wore an expensive shining metallic armor unlike the outlaws, making him immune to my powers. He rode his horse in front of me. “We will be taking any witch in this area. Leave before you are arrested for trespassing.” The men did not seem intimidated and continued to advance. Several clicking sounds rippled through the forest. The riders became archers in a moment. I could smell the poison that dripped off each arrow tip. The outlaws stopped their progress. Discouraged, they muttered curses and rode away.

“Well, thank you,” I said softly and stepped past the horse. “But I will need to leave to the north with my cub now.” The cub obediently followed at my heels but did not take its eyes off the horsemen.

“No,” the leader said as he reached into his pack. “As I said, we will be taking you, witch.” He threw something at me. I thought he had shot an arrow at my neck. I wielded a shield spell at the tip of my fingers as I reached up to my neck. It was too late. I felt the cold lick of metal. It spread across my neck to form a band. It secured itself, infused to my skin. Curses filled my mind as I realized an arrow would have been easier to deal with.

As the coil tightened around me, I grabbed onto it and tried to free myself, chanting anything that came to mind. Of course, nothing worked. Mortal metal and witch magic never mix. If they do, magic loses. Metal prevents a witch from using her powers against the applier of the band. Broadly speaking, the applier of the band could include those who gave the command, not just the person who placed it on the witch. Damn the mortal who discovered this! I pledge my life to find a counter spell to this blasted thing.

I fell to the ground as the horsemen began to dismount. They approached. The cub growled at them but one of the men kicked it away. It rolled a fair distance from me. I would have had the mortal’s legs for that if I wasn’t enchanted. A horseman knelt beside me. I tried to curse at them but I could barely breathe through the metal band. He grabbed my wrists and bound them behind me. He was careful not to break my skin, as a witch’s blood can be enchanted without the witch’s conscious thought.

I turned around to try to find the cub when a blindfold covered my eyes. I cursed in all the languages I know, which is a lot.

“Easy, easy,” said a deep voice. I turned my head, desperately trying to free myself. The voice’s hand brushed my midnight hair back from my sweat soaked forehead. He is obviously not the leader who knew how to throw the band at a distance. “I wonder how a witch is in bed.” I lunged at his hand and got a finger between my canines. I bit down, hard. I heard him cry out before pulling his bloody finger free. I spat out the blood. Metal restricts magic attacks, not physical.

With a rough order, a crude rag covered my mouth and connected at the base of my neck. It tasted of sweat. I gagged.

A strong hand lifted me onto a horse. Another rider straddled the horse and kicked it into a gallop. I helplessly rode with them. The horse did not listen to my sent thoughts of a promised freedom if it would knock its rider off. I later learned they had stuffed its ears with cotton infused with metal fibers. They were desperate to have me.

“Kill that animal,” the same deep voice ordered. The cub… I lifted a finger and surrounded the cub with a shield. I whispered to the powers and my magic to protect the defenseless. “Damn it, the witch, she’s protecting the bloody thing.” I felt a little better as, at the very least, I could protect the cub; I would have to worry about myself later.

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