Chapter Thirteen
“Malachi,” I said. “I’m glad you’re here, I found—”
A guard punched me in the stomach; I doubled over in pain and fell to the floor. “Shut up, witch,” the guard said, and kicked me in the side.
“Stop,” said Malachi. “There is no need for that. He needs to be in good shape when we burn him at the stake for witchcraft.” He knelt down near my ear and added, “And his daughter with him.”
The two guards pulled me to my feet and dragged me out of the room.
“The king is in the Great Hall,” said Malachi. “Take him there.”
Struggling to breathe, nausea filled my stomach as I stumbled down the hallway with them. We entered the Great Hall; hundreds of people were there finishing their supper. The sound of conversation and laughter filled the air; I could smell roasted lamb and fresh-baked bread. The king sat at the royal table near the front of the dining room, finished with his evening meal.
Malachi strode to the front. “Your Majesty,” he said in a loud voice, and the Great Hall became silent. “You have appointed me to investigate witchcraft at Hampton Court Palace, and I am honored to tell you that my search has been fruitful. By the authority invested in me by God and the Crown, I hereby accuse William Shakespeare of the high crime of witchcraft.”
The guards flung me to the floor in front of the king. He looked shocked and stared hard at me for a moment. Catching my breath, I stood to face him.
“What’s the meaning of this?” the king asked Malachi. “I personally picked this man to be our Witchfinder General.”
“He fooled all of us, my lord,” said Malachi. “Or at least most of us.”
“What evidence do you have?” asked the king. “I demand answers.”
“Your Majesty, these two noble palace guards and I caught William Shakespeare in the act of practicing black magic.”
“Is this true?” the king asked the guards.
“Yes, sire,” said the guard who had hit me.
“Or at least,” said the other guard, “we found him in a room with cursed items.”
“And where are these ‘cursed items’ now?”
“Here, Your Majesty.” Malachi held up the book I had found in the room. “It’s a witch’s book of spells.” Malachi turned and faced the crowd, holding up the book for all to see.
“A Book of Shadows,” said the king, stroking his beard.
“Yes,” said Malachi. “And there was a pentagram on the floor surrounded by candles.”
“Witch!” a voice in the crowd bellowed.
“Sorcerer!” screamed another.
“Quiet!” said the king. He then turned to me. “How do you defend yourself?”
“Sire,” I replied. “While investigating on your behalf, I found the room that Malachi described. I discovered the spell book and pentagram there.”
The king nodded. “Is there any other evidence against this man?”
“Yes,” said Malachi. “Your Majesty, I call as a witness the chief servant, Myles Lewis.”
Myles Lewis was standing in back and looked shocked to hear his name. Malachi waved for him to come forward. Myles straightened his serving jacket and walked to the front.
“Yes sir,” said Myles to Malachi.
“Tell the king what you found,” said Malachi.
“Found, sir?”
“Don’t play games with us,” demanded Malachi. “I order you to testify to this court.”
Myles looked at me and said, “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Sorry for what?” I asked.
“Your Majesty,” Myles said to King James. “Malachi Hunter ordered me to go into Master Shakespeare’s room and search for evidence of witchcraft.”
“And what did you find there?” asked the king.
“This is awkward, Your Majesty,” said Myles.
“I understand,” said the king, “but please continue.”
“Forgive me, sir,” Myles said to me.
“You will address the king and not the criminal,” ordered Malachi.
Myles cleared his throat. “I found several items of witchcraft, such as a wand, pentacle, and an athame.”
“What’s an athame?” I asked.
“A ceremonial blade used by witches,” said the king.
“Yes sire, and also a boline,” said Myles. He then looked at me and gave a definition, “Another witch blade, a white-handled knife with a curved blade shaped like a crescent moon.”
“But you missed an important piece of evidence,” said Malachi. “Shakespeare himself showed me a witch’s poppet that he had in his room.”
“Why would he show that to you if he is a witch?” asked the king.
Malachi laughed. “He claimed that he found it in his own room. And with a stroke of evil genius, he even made the poppet to look like him. But I could not be so easily fooled.”
“Of course,” said King James. “Is that all?”
“No,” said Malachi. “There is one more thing, Your Highness.”
“Yes?”
Malachi reached into his pocket, pulled out a necklace with a star-shaped pendant, and showed it to the crowd. “A witch’s pendant.”
The crowd gasped and began murmuring.
“Where did you get that?” asked the king.
Malachi looked at me and smiled. “I took it off of William Shakespeare myself when we arrested him.”
“You liar!” I said and sprang towards him, but the guards caught me and held me tight.
“A witch’s amulet!” screamed a young woman.
“That proves it!” said an older man. “The king’s witchfinder is a witch himself!”
“He’s a witch!” said voices in the crowd.
“Silence!” King James stood and raised his right hand to quiet the crowd. “This is terrible news, my friends. I had no idea that witchcraft had climbed so high in the royal palace. I am afraid I am left with no choice but to deal with this crime with extreme prejudice.”
The king stroked his beard for a moment and looked at me. Then he spoke out in a loud voice.
“William Shakespeare, you are hereby convicted of the high crime of witchcraft. The penalty is death by burning. You and your daughter shall be burned at the stake, and Samantha Winston shall be burned with you.”
“The end of witchcraft!” shouted a tall man with a long red beard.
“The end of the plague!” said another voice from the crowd. “Hooray!”
“Seize him!” ordered Malachi. Two guards stepped forward and grabbed me by my arms.
A woman’s laughter rang out across the Great Hall, silencing the crowd.
I turned my head towards the wicked laughter, and my blood ran cold. To my great surprise I saw my wife, Anne Hathaway. Clad in a long black gown, her hair flowed behind her as she strode forward from the back of the room. Her eyes were framed in dark; her face pale—almost white—her lips ruby red and twisted into a wicked smile. Taking center stage, she turned and addressed the crowd.
“Fools!” she shrieked. “You fumble around the palace and the countryside looking for witches to burn. You see sorcerers in every shadow, and magicians behind every curtain. And all the while the queen of all witches is right here among you.”
I glanced at Malachi Hunter, who was staring at Anne in horror. She had everyone’s attention, including mine.
“Wax figures and silver daggers are children’s toys. Pentagrams and candles are meaningless in and of themselves. A real witch has no need of such playthings when the power of all existence courses through her veins.”
She turned and glared at me. “William Shakespeare is not a witch. He could never master the witches’ art, even if he wanted to.” A wicked smile spread across her face. “For my amusement, I toyed with the Witchfinder General like a cat with a mouse. While he was out hunting witches, I possessed his wife and stole her identity.”
The crowd gasped and shouts of “No!” rang out across the Great Hall.
“It’s true!” she continued. “I have been playing the role of Anne Hathaway, loyal wife and mother, and he was too stupid to even notice. I explored the palace and made my plans, and the king’s Witchfinder never caught on.”
She looked at King James, his eyes wide with shock.
“It is in Hampton Court Palace that I shall sit on my throne. I will rule over all Britannia, as witches did in the days of old. I am not some poor old widow tortured until she confesses to crimes she couldn’t fathom. I am not a kind midwife whose only crime is to help women bear children. Fools! They are not witches!”
Anne threw back her head and let out a sinister cackle. I glanced at the crowd, and everyone was on their feet, transfixed on Anne.
“Judith and Samantha are only senseless children who love theater,” she continued. “They have no magical power and no interest in the occult. They are just silly girls obsessed with games and dances and pretty dresses. Bah! It sickens me they would ever be accused of being something as grand as a genuine witch. Their arrest bears witness to the foolishness of the Crown.”
The king looked indignant, and one of his guards looked to him for an order. King James glanced at him and shook his head.
“I am ancient,” said the witch. “I have lived for thousands of years, and I shall live thousands of years more. I am birthless and I am deathless. I am known by many names.”
She walked closer to the crowd, and several people shrank back.
“I was Lilith in the Garden of Eden. King Saul knew me as the Witch of Endor. King Arthur called me Morgan le Fey. And I have had many other names. Today, you may call me Ravynna the Witch, Queen of England.”
Palace guards rushed the stage, swords drawn and muskets aimed at the witch. Anne Hathaway—Ravynna—raised her hand, and they stopped in their tracks.
“Fools!” she screeched. “Do you still not understand the power of a genuine witch? I have no need of swords and muskets to fight my battles. I need no magic wands or wax poppets to kill my enemies. If I wanted to turn you to stone, I would simply blink my eyes.”
Voices in the crowd cried out, but the guards stood their ground.
“If I wanted to burn you alive, I would utter a single magic word. If I snapped my fingers,” she held her fingers as if she was going to do so, “you would turn to dust.”
The guards began backing away from her.
“And if I wanted to kill the king,” she looked at King James. The witch outstretched her fingers as if she was going to squeeze her hand tight. “All I would have to do is make a fist and he would burst into flames.”
The king bravely met her gazed and never blinked. If he was afraid, he showed no signs of it. After a long moment, Ravynna the Witch smiled and turned away.
“Today I will let your petty king live, for he may prove useful to me yet.” She looked at the king sternly. “But be warned, King James, that you serve at my pleasure. You live and you die at my command.”
She turned away from him sharply and addressed the crowd. “And to all of you, know this: Ravynna sees all. Ravynna knows all. There are no whispers so quiet that I cannot hear them. There is no room in the palace so private that I cannot see into it. All of your actions, all of your words, and even all of your thoughts, are known to Ravynna the Witch.”
The crowd stood in stunned silence. No one dared to speak or even move. After a long moment, Malachi Hunter moved to the witch’s side. He looked at her for a moment and then knelt before her. He then stood and addressed the crowd in a loud voice.
“Long live Ravynna the Witch!”
Many in the crowd repeated after him, quietly at first, “Long live Ravynna the Witch.”
Malachi said again, “Long live Ravynna the Witch!”
The entire crowd began chanting repeatedly, growing in intensity each time:
“Long live Ravynna the Witch.”
“Long live Ravynna the Witch!”
“LONG LIVE RAVYNNA THE WITCH!”