The Witch Woman's Prophecy

7 | Yardin |

The chattering crowd had gathered outside the cave mouth in the cliff that formed the back wall of Merthgem. The cliff towered above us, casting a deep blue, early morning shadow over the town and birds sang their dawn greeting to the sun in notes that echoed back from the cliff.

The women, who all wore bright dresses and were adorned with jewellery around their necks and wrists, were laughing and embracing each other. The young woman who held the newborn baby had her hair arranged in an elaborate style on top of her head and wore more jewellery than the rest. Some of the older women gathered around her, cooing and smiling at the tiny baby nestled in the crook of her arm.

The men wore bands of bright red cloth tied around their heads and stood apart from the women. The noise grew louder as they began to joke amongst themselves. Booming laughs greeted a joke at the proud father's expense, and he grinned as he accepted slaps on the back and congratulations at the proof of his manhood.

The double thud-thud of a drum beaten like a heartbeat came from the mouth of the cave and the good humour became a respectful silence. The crowd entered the narrow mouth of the cave in single-file. After a breath or two I followed along behind them, keeping to the shadows and hoping that nobody would notice me.

As I ducked to enter the cave, a whisper of pain began in my head. It was subtle, like the beginnings of a normal headache, but the further I went into the cave the stronger it became.

Torches flamed inside to light the way, their light painted the slick surfaces of the cave walls in dancing shades of yellow and orange. The clammy air chilled my skin and smelled of damp stone. The floor was uneven and slippery, and I placed my feet carefully as I made my way down a long passageway to an open area where more torches made a warm yellow glow. The pain in my head was intense, although not as bad as when I had been inside the metal building on the farm. If I had not been so desperate to find out why Yardin had made her foul prophecy I would have sprinted from the cave, but instead I gritted my teeth and bore it.

The crowd was arranged in a circle with Yardin, the Witch Woman, in the centre. Bowls of herbs smouldered within the circle, scenting the air with a heavy perfume. Feeling dizzy and a little nauseous from the smoke, I clambered silently to the top of a large rock at the back of the cave where the shadows would conceal me and where I was high enough to see what was happening in the circle. From my position I could see that the crowd was happy and engrossed in the ritual of the foretelling, they were not sharing my pain. Why did it only affect me?

Yardin was draped in loose, plain robes that hid her form and I was too far away to see her face clearly. In the flickering light Yardin appeared first tall and then shrank down so that she was tiny. She seemed to be old and then young. Beautiful then ugly. I blinked and squinted, but the distortion continued, it was difficult to focus on her and I wondered if the smoke was confusing me. She held her finger to her lips for silence and began to speak in a quavering voice.

'We are gathered here at the dawn of a new day and the dawn of a new life. Here in the womb of the Earth I will call the spirits. They will come to my call and answer your questions. The spirits know the future for your child. They will guide me so that I may give you advice, advice to tell you the best future for your child. You must heed their words for they are true.'

She gestured to the mother holding the baby who stood on her right. 'Lay your child before me and let it be naked so that the spirits may see its truth.'

The woman knelt down and placed a small jingling pouch by Yardin's feet, then she took off her child's swaddling clothes. The baby made no movement or sound.

Yardin pulled a long knife from her belt, the blade flickered with crimson lights, lights too red to be reflections of the torches. They glittered along the flat of the blade and seemed to move within it by themselves. She held it high above her head with both hands and began to croon in a voice too low for me to hear what she said. The people in the cave respond to her crooning with a song of their own, which continued when she paused. She began to sway like a snake hypnotising its prey. The crowd gasped and flinched as Yardin plunged the knife down towards the baby's heart.