Chapter Seventeen

 

The dark room was cold, and the incense was thick. Ravynna the Witch sat on her royal throne, her face drenched in the glowing orange light of the burning embers. Even though I knew the truth, I felt terror rising in my chest. I almost believed that Anne truly was Ravynna the Witch, and I was afraid. The crowd whispered to each other.

“Silence!” thundered the voice of the witch. The room became quiet, and Anne let the tension rise and then hang in the air. After what seemed like an eternity, she spoke.

“Why do you try the patience of your queen? Why do you weary me by having to discipline you like children? Why must I prove my power before you will listen?”

Ravynna raised her right hand slowly. As she did, a lute we placed on the floor to her right rose into the air. The crowd gasped as the lute rose higher until it was about seven feet in the air. When Ravynna stopped raising her right hand, the lute stopped rising and hung in the cold air. Then Ravynna began strumming her fingers, and as she did so, lute music filled the chamber. Even though she was ten feet away from the levitating lute, the haunting melody filled the room.

Everything was working perfectly. Unbeknownst to the audience, stagehands pulled thin strings from behind the scenes, making the lute rise on a pulley. And hidden behind the curtain was a lute player, strumming a melancholy tune. I glanced around at the faces in the crowd; they were transfixed.

Ravynna then raised her left hand, and a flute that we had placed to her left rose into the air. When it reached the same height as the lute, she began fluttering her fingers on her left hand. The flute played, filling the air with eerie music. And all the while, our stagehands were making the real magic and the real music from behind the scenes.

Ravynna dropped her hands, and the music stopped as the two instruments crashed to the floor. She took a small wax doll and held it up for the audience to see. She tied strings to it and displayed it as a marionette.

“You,” she said, pointing at me. “Arise.”

“I will not,” I said.

Ravynna cackled a cruel laugh. She pulled the strings, making the wax marionette stand up. I stood up, as if pulled by invisible strings. She made the doll dance, and I matched the dance exactly, just like we had practiced. She then dropped the strings, and I fell to the floor like a rag doll, dropped by a child who had grown tired of playing with it. I crawled back to my seat. The crowd gasped and began whispering to each other.

“Silence!” Ravynna again addressed the crowd.

“I am not an entertainer, here for your amusement,” she said. “Nor am I a fortune teller, begging for a few coins to reveal your pathetic future. I am Ravynna the Witch, and the veil between the worlds is thin to me. I have done this demonstration for your benefit, so you will know my power and my grace.”

I looked around the room, and everyone looked terrified. I wanted to glance behind me to see the king’s face, but I feared it would break the spell the crowd was under.

“There has been blood spilled in this palace,” Ravynna continued. “And this blood has been taken without my permission. And what is worse, this blood has not been dedicated to my glory. Martin Page, the royal priest, has been murdered while saying Mass in the Royal Chapel. I have no qualms with his murder, except that it was done without my consent. Furthermore, it was done in a bungled attempt to murder the king. And as the High Queen of England, I cannot let this deed pass unpunished.”

“Take heed, you who sit in the Queen’s Chambers,” Richard Burbage said as he entered from behind the audience. He surprised the crowd with his loud voice. “You are here by the order of the Witch Queen, and you will do as you are told. I warn you, Ravynna will find the one who dared spill human blood without her permission. The Witch Queen is not without mercy. But if you make her drag the truth out of you, the punishment for all will be unbearable.”

The crowd was silent. A man made the sign of the cross, and a woman by his side began crying. We had them right where we wanted them. It was time for the questioning to begin.

“You!” Ravynna pointed at Thomas Winter. “Stand and face your queen.”

Thomas sat and stared at Ravynna. His eyes were defiant. Oh no, I thought. She started with Thomas, and he will resist.

“Stand!” she commanded. If Anne was afraid, she wasn’t showing it.

Thomas stood, but still looked defiant.

“Yes,” he said, never blinking. “What does the lady require?” Thomas paused a moment, and then added with a hint of sarcasm, “My queen.”

“I require the truth,” said Ravynna. “Why are you here at Hampton Court Palace?”

“My business is my own,” said Thomas Winter.

“Your business, and the business of everyone in England, exists solely at the pleasure of Ravynna the Witch,” said Richard.

“Whatever you say,” responded Thomas, and sat down.

“How dare you sit when being addressed by your queen?” thundered Ravynna. “I shall strike you dead!”

“Please, Your Majesty,” said Robert Winter, standing. “My brother is not well. I ask your forgiveness for his insolence.”

“And you shall have it,” said Ravynna. “But only if you answer in his proxy.”

“I will be happy to,” said Robert Winter. “Our business here is intellectual, nothing more.”

“Intellectual?” asked Ravynna. “What do you mean?”

“We are on a fact-finding mission, Your Majesty, and that is all.”

“Are you Puritans?” she asked. “Or Anglicans? Do not lie. Ravynna has her ways of finding the truth.”

“We are neither, Your Majesty,” said Robert. “We represent an overlooked faction in this debate.”

“And what faction is that?” asked King James from the back of the room.

Thomas Winter stood and faced the king. “We are proud to be faithful Roman Catholics, Your Majesty.”

“Roman Catholics have enjoyed tolerance in England since the Elizabethan Settlement,” said Robert Winter.

“That initial tolerance waned, however,” added Thomas, “in the later years of Queen Elizabeth’s reign.”

“You need not labor this point,” said King James. “I was baptized Roman Catholic, but raised Presbyterian.” The king glanced at the Puritans, who seemed pleased that he was raised protestant. And then he added, “At the moment, however, I’m leaning Anglican.”

“Enough,” said Ravynna. “I have no dog in your petty religious fight. Sit down, both of you.”

The Winter brothers glanced at each other and then sat.

Well, I thought. That explains why they are at Hampton Court and why they are so serious and secretive. The religious tensions in England were high, and a tiny spark could set the country ablaze.

“Arise,” Ravynna pointed at Father Jeremiah Talbot. “Stand before your queen.”

Father Talbot stood and faced the witch, his hands clasped behind his back.

“You are ambitious,” said Ravynna. “And you crave advancement in your career.”

“Only if it will allow me to better serve my Lord and my king,” said Talbot. And then he added, “Or my queen, should that be the case.”

“I applaud ambition, and the use of murder to gain a higher rank appeals to my sensibilities,” said Ravynna with a wicked smile. “But only in the service of my agenda. Regicide is troubling to me, now that I have rightfully ascended to my throne.”

“If you are asking if I would kill King James, I most certainly would not,” said Father Talbot. “I believe strongly in the divine right of kings.”

“What do you mean?”

“The king rules by God’s authority, and by God’s authority alone,” said Talbot. “And so, only divine authority can depose a monarch. Man cannot do it,” the young priest paused. “Nor can a witch.”

“How dare you!” thundered Richard Burbage, playing his role as a loyal subject of the Witch Queen to the hilt.

“Stop,” Ravynna raised her hand. “We shall let this slight pass. At least for now. You may be seated.”

Father Talbot sat, and a fellow priest next to him patted him on the back. I was afraid. A few brave souls were challenging the witch. This would embolden others to doubt her powers, and we still needed to gain more information. It was time for the witch to summon the ghost of Janet Wishart.

“The time has come to bring a witness from the other side,” said Ravynna. “The veil between the worlds is thin for Ravynna. I can part the curtains at will and summon spirits to do my bidding. I demand complete silence. I shall go into a trance and you must not disturb me.”

Richard Burbage came forward with a sack filled with ground salt. He began sprinkling it in a circle around Ravynna. When he had completed the circle, he put a handful of dried lavender in each of the three burning pots. Ravynna took a deep breath and summoned the ghost of the witch.

“It is I, the Witch of Eden. It is I, the Witch of Endor. I call to the other world for one of the spirits in prison.”

I glanced around at the crowd. The people were wrapped in awe. Anne was gaining them back, and terror filled their eyes.

“I call for Janet Wishart, the witch of Aberdeen.”

Malachi let out a gasp, his eyes transfixed on the stage.

Ravynna lowered her head and became silent. The incense in the air was very thick now, and it was getting harder to breathe. Smoke filled the air. The glowing light from the coals in the cauldrons created a terrifying atmosphere. Ravynna threw back her head and let out her breath. She shook from head to toe, dropped her head, and became still.

After a moment, there was a thump followed by something scraping against the floor to Anne’s right. The sound continued and was rhythmic and hypnotic. Thump, scrape, thump, scrape, thump, scrape. Out of the darkness stepped the figure of a woman dressed in a long white shroud with a veil. She would take one step, and then drag her other leg behind her. The ghostly figure held her head stiff, and to one side.

Nice touch, Violet. I thought. Janet Wishart was hanged, so her neck must have been broken.

She turned to the crowd and cried out in a raspy voice: “Who dares disturb the ghost of Janet Wishart?”

Very good! I thought. She is a great actor.

Even I almost believed that this truly was the ghost of the witch of Aberdeen. At that moment, I felt cold fingers touch my arm. It startled me, sending an icy shiver up my spine. I glanced over, and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

It was Violet Lewis.