Chapter 5 #3
I had grown up away from my parents and barely knew my father, but my mother had made a point of travelling to Norway to visit me and her family every couple of years, determined we should remain close.
Having been back almost six months now, spending more time with my father than I ever had, I soon realised that, despite his professed loyalty to my mother, he could be cruel to her.
It became more obvious to me that her reason for sending me, at the age of twelve, to be brought up by her brother and his wife, only returning when I was a grown man, had been to shield me from my father’s harshness; and that she had only agreed to me returning once I was a grown man and physically able to defend myself against him, should the necessity arise.
I learnt early that my family’s reputation was important to my mother.
I doubted anyone other than me knew that my father had hit her.
She refused to believe, publicly at least, that he was anything other than just towards villagers.
As much as I had questioned his actions since my return, I felt obliged to do as he asked of me while I carried out my role and discovered for myself whether my father warranted the respect he was given by most villagers.
It was my turn now to reciprocate her unselfish act of love, giving me that freedom for all those years.
I missed my life in Norway with my aunt, uncle and two cousins, but this was my lot now and I knew that training to be my father’s assistant kept him happy and in turn made my mother’s life much easier.
‘Theo, stop daydreaming and focus on the matter in hand.’
I snapped out of my reverie and walked to the door, deciding that if I was destined to work as the Witchfinder’s assistant then I would do my best to seek fairness for this Rue Underwood and any other accused witches I came across.
Growing up in Norway I had only overheard an occasional conversation between my aunt and uncle about my father’s work.
But I had learnt far more since I had been back on the island, and knew that if Rue was a witch, then there would be little I could do to help her, especially if she had cavorted with the Devil, and carried out despicable acts such as casting spells to ruin, hurt or humiliate other islanders.
If that was the case, and I hoped fervently that it wasn’t, then I believed her to be the scourge of the community.
Even if I did not agree with the severity of witches’ punishment, I had promised to protect the innocent of our community and that’s what I intended doing.
As I left my father, my mind returned to the girl I had danced with. At least my investigation of this woman would give me time away from my father to keep looking for her.
I untied Warrior and once in the saddle tried to think who had run the stall on previous occasions because, now I thought of it, I had noticed someone else selling packets and jars that looked similar to those the girl had on display.
I asked an elderly man and discovered that the woman I had occasionally seen at the stall was called Sorrel Norman.
‘Is she related to the girl who was there earlier, do you know?’
He gave me a suspicious look. ‘Why would you be asking?’
‘No reason,’ I lied. ‘Only that we spoke once before and I don’t recall her name.’
‘You don’t know, or she refused to tell you?’ he asked his eyes glancing from side to side shiftily.
I widened my eyes slightly hoping to appear as innocent as possible. ‘I forgot to ask,’ I said giving a shrug and rolling my eyes.
He stared at me clearly thinking me a fool. ‘I will tell you that the pair are related but I know little more than that.’
I could tell he was lying but I was relieved to have some information to go on.
I assumed the Norman woman must be her mother and approached other villagers in an attempt to discreetly find out more about the girl.
I wasn’t sure what it was about her but, although several people appeared to want to help me, none offered any information.
For now, she was going to have to remain a beautiful mystery.
As I rode Warrior back through the market, I remembered why I had come to Thistlebury.
I was on a mission for my father; my search for the girl who had captured my heart would need to wait until I had at least made some headway with the task my father had entrusted to me.
I hoped it wasn’t true that, just because the girl’s mother was a witch, she had followed in her footsteps and practised witchcraft too.
That might be the case if her mother had lived and brought her up to follow the same path, but the woman had died years before, and as my father hadn’t accused others in the household of any crime, at least not to my knowledge, then I wondered why he was determined to find this suspected witch Rue Underwood.
I hoped that when I did bring her before him, he would not be too harsh in his treatment of her.
It was one thing to do my job but another entirely to know I had the power, just by following my father’s orders, to ruin someone’s life.