Coven of Swords

Chapter 2 Gift of Faith

Chatty and lively, the man started talking to my husband, word by word, extracting our story from him. Enoch didn't seem to care that the story we created to avoid talking about the black death was wobbly.

Atti was often contradicting his own words. It was painful to hear how he tried to come up with the reason we were looking for a new home in the middle of winter. But I pushed away any thought of interrupting or intruding in the conversation.

I only noticed that I was copying the other woman's behavior when we stopped. The old looking house was almost at the opposite end of the settlement. The change was very subtle, but I was following my husband one step behind and stopped at the same time as the men did.

Over the years, I moved a lot. Growing disapproval of witches forced me out of my hometown ten years ago, after my mom died. Since then, I met Atti, got two kids and had to move six times. Sudden death of a cow, unknown disease of the local sweetheart, chicken stopped nesting, the list goes on and on,- somehow it was all my fault. Bit by bit I learned to fit in, disguise.

Enoch was showing us the inside of the abandoned kitchen. Many items, like an oven fork, old cutlery and linen, were still in place, as if owners left in a rush.

"Ok, let's leave them to their staff," Enoch nodded at me and the women-still-to-be-introduced, "I'll show you the smithery."

"Ok, settle in, my dove. I'll be back to help soon."

Atti nodded, and I caught a disapproving gaze of Enoch. What's his problem?

As men left, I put my heavy bags on the dirty but solid looking table and helped Arlene to get on the bench. She was blinking slower and slower, and would fall asleep at any moment now. We left the previous village weeks ago. But she was still so used to her mid-day naps.

Looking around, I realized that Atti took Art with him. That boy needed his rest, too.

My eyes stumbled upon Enoch's wife. The woman was still as a statue, frozen in the middle of the room where Enoch left her. Blank expression made her youthful face look even younger, almost childlike. Cold gust from the open door waved the fabric of her dress and sent shivers down hands.

I swallowed, clearing my throat. Would she even reply if I talk to her? Maybe she was numb?

"Hi, my name is Airic. What's yours?"

"I am Elisa," she drawled, as if awakening from a sleep. "I will explain to you the schedule: wake up early, men and kids should be fed at sunrise. Pastor expects them at the prayer every Sunday. Kids four to twelve should be at school after prayer ends. You have no food put aside for the winter, so Enoch will send you to the houses that need help. They will share food with you. Shops are on Clower street, left from the plaza. Laundry once a week, at the river house. I will come and get you in when it's time..."

This was the first time I heard someone talk this way. Short, stubby phrases and not a sign of emotion, no opinions, just... instruction? She was so... dead inside. I would suspect that she was a golem if her skin wouldn't be so human looking. It did look weird, though. But I wasn't in the mood for investigation. Especially when I had to keep my magic at bay, so the pastor wouldn't feel it.

"I am very grateful that you are hosting us in the time of hardship, Elisa. Is there anything that I should know about the settlement? How is life here? Are there any unspoken rules? Any interesting gossip?"

"Pastor is very kind. Obey his word, and you will become a valuable part of the Sun Congregation."

We stood for a moment in silence. Then she looked around, as if trying to remember where she was. Then she started helping me to clean the house. The woman swept the floors while I brought some water from the well at the end of the street. Together, we washed the windows, tables and floors removing the thick layer of dust. I kept glancing at Elisa. She was working tirelessly.