Chapter 12 – Mallus Maleficarum – The Hammer of Witches
Mark me with Fear and Trembling,
Send someone else instead.
I know my world is ending,
I can't repay my debt.
Can I carry such a heavy burden?
Can I move when I am paralyzed?
I see a fire behind a heavy curtain,
I lean in closer and I close my eyes.
Kiss the coals; breathe in smoke,
And I say, "Here I am, send me."
Lifts my soul, free and so unafraid.
"Here I am, send me, send me."
Free and so unafraid
"Here I am, send me."
Mark me with fire and send me,
Among the living dead.
They cannot comprehend me;
I watch the sickness spread.
How can they hear me when their hearts are hardened?
How can they see me when they close their eyes?
So they can tell that I'm an easy target
A wooden saw is quite a way to die
Kiss the coals; breathe in smoke
And I say, "Here I am, send me."
Lifts my soul, free and so unafraid
"Here I am, send me, send me."
Free and so unafraid
"Here I am, send me."
– The Messenger by Thrice
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An early Thursday morning, when Buffy was still fast asleep on her makeshift bed of straw and hadn’t woken from her dreams of past memories yet, found Lord Rayne pacing restlessly in his chambers.
His mind felt more like a wild tangles of thoughts, spinning around uncontrolled and completely indefinable, rather than a neat form of facts he usually managed to make out of it all. He tried to catch the slippery buggers to connect them, but they flew out of reach every time they were almost at his grasp. It drove him crazy, to put it mildly.
So he paced, and paced, as though his steps could help his mind to assort things any by way of rhythmical movement.
He had so many things on his mind to sort out, facts to put in the right order, thus making any sense of them. The evidences, suspects…, all of those were pulling in too many different directions instead of just to the logical one… The hut and the abandoned church in the woods had been cleared of the bodies after his inspection, but none of it made any sense, when he tried to fit the girl, currently residing in his dungeon, into it all.
Those two were not the only bodies they had found lying around in the past few months. The only difference was, that they were found indoors, when all the others were found hidden in the forests around Sunnydale town, chanced by some poor sods stumbling upon them.
At first there was at least one thing that connected all of the previous murders, and that was the status in society of the deceased – they were all of the unfortunates, the poor, their bodies weak looking and half starved, bad teeth in their mouth, if there were any at all… and they were all girls and young women. But all of it changed, when they found the first body of an upper classman, clumsily stabbed in the abdomen and left to bleed out in the forest.
William remembered how he had ridden like the wind to the latest scene, baffled by the discovery once he got there. The murdered was young and quite well muscled, indicating the strong health and fine physical condition. The fair amount of blood was pooled on the leaf covered floor, half soaked into the soil, belying the amount of it.
Young Lord Rayne believed at first, no, he hoped it, that the murder was only the result of a badly executed robbery. His hopes were immediately crushed as soon as he got closer still, to see all of the jewelry still intact on the body. Robbers would not go into so much trouble as to murder someone, only to leave those fine jeweled rings and robes behind.
Still, there was no connection between this one and the other murders, until the next day when some woman stumbled upon the similar looking corpse while moss picking in the other part of the woods.
Similar in the fact, that the victim was one of the upper classman as well.
This time it was a woman. A young woman lying on the forest floor, her perfect pale skin covered in nothing but cuts, dirt, and dried autumn leaves. There was no indication of her status in society, almost like the murderer intentionally wanted to cover that fact up by undressing her and removing any sign of who she was.
But William wasn’t fooled. Where her skin wasn’t covered in lacerations it was perfect and unmarred by the sunlight, when the girl of a lesser status, one who used to work on the fields, would have her unguarded skin hardened and darkened. And not only had it been like that, but the hair of the dead woman was distinctly perfumed, the already faint scent tickling his nose and those of the guards that escorted him on the place she was found.
While the murders continued, young women and girls continued to disappear, only to be found dead a few days later. There were no more doubts about it.
Lord William Rayne was dealing with a madman who desires to kill repeatedly.
Then there was a breakthrough a few days back, when the information from the local tavern led him to the young blonde woman, Buffy Summers.
He knew it now, that that lead way in fact to a dead end, and that he should start to find new ones, like pursuing that all too knowing stranger from the tavern, but sadly for him, all he could think about was the girl in his dungeon.
He paused briefly in his step to ponder the thought. No, she was not a girl. A young woman, his Buffy was. Not really a mere girl.
A flash of her form appeared – yet again – in his mind’s eye, all feminine softness and youthful innocence. Even dirty and starved as she was – her collar bone highly pronounced and her breasts smaller but perky enough, to put any other woman who presented them proudly, to shame – she caught his attention. And that was proof enough for him that she was, in fact, a young woman…, and beautifully curved at that. He only had to feed her properly, to show the world what he saw in her.
Lord William felt his lips curve into a smile…until a previous thought suddenly stood out against all others.
His Buffy?
She’s not your anything, the reasonable voice inside told him, and the smile was quickly wiped off. But at the same time that stealthy undercurrent layer of his mind chimed in with a steady ‘Mine… Mine… Mine …’
The expression on the blonde man’s face turned into an angry grimace.
‘’Damn it all, you bleedin’…! ‘’ William would have gladly roared out loud the rest, but God must not be in his favor too much lately, if the seriousness of the whole damn situation could tell anything, so he swallowed and choked down the rest of his words. No good reason to anger Him even more, was there?
So he settled for gritting his teeth and balling his hands into hard fists.
No, he reprimanded his mind for the hundredth time this morning like a father to a stubborn child, when he calmed down finally. Not your Buffy, he reasoned with himself slowly. She is a captive. Apparently wrongfully accused one, but nonetheless, she is not his anything. Only a captive…
He had to remind himself that fact daily, ever since he first saw her, but now, knowing of her innocence, he had to be twice as strong. Was it not enough that he dreamt of her every night ever since she was brought here? She was making him daydream, for Christ sakes, and about the possibilities he knew were impossible to be made, even. She was making him feel again… a sensation he hadn’t been familiar with for far too long to make any sense of it now. He buried that part of himself in the past, all for his own good, and never unearthed it again…
A twinge of pain shot through his chest at the faraway memory that disobediently tried to push itself at the front of all other things in his mind, replacing briefly the image of golden-haired Buffy in his head with someone other…
…Darker locks of hair… pale skin tinged with dark hues he knew very well were vicious bruises… and even her name by now, was almost a tangible taste in his mouth…
… He quickly repressed it down to bury it once more in the past, before the two images, one of the past and one of the present, bled into one.
William noticed his breathing had sped out, and the sweat broke out onto his skin. He wiped at his gleaming face quickly with the back of his hand. No good in losing his mind over that, he mused.
It was Buffy’s fault, he concluded; she made him feel all this again and all these feelings were not welcomed. They hurt, and brought forward uninvited reminders of the events that happened years ago, the ones he tried so hard to replace by new ones, less dangerous for his sanity.
He hadn’t wanted to think about them now, so he forced another image in his mind to replace them, and it was really no surprise that the face he imagined belonged to the blonde woman again, the one locked away in one of his cells, down in the dungeon.
So far and yet so close at the same time, Buffy was… and God… her lips… her eyes…
Exasperatedly he noticed where his mind went again so he purposefully stopped it from getting it on that path any further. William refused to see Buffy for a whole day yesterday for that same purpose. He tried to distance himself from her, to think things out clearly, but alas, no luck with that thus far.
She was all he could bloody well think about, dream about…
He worked himself up good and proper into an obsession, lusting after forbidden fruit in the shape of one Buffy Summers, Biblically spoken. He had to distance himself from her, gather realistic and hard evidence that would help her case, or the Church Council would suspect him of being under the influence of her witchcraft if he was to be shown too eager in her defense once they came for her.
However, he called away the guards from the dungeon, hopefully making the girl notice that he really meant what he said the other night, and that he trusted her words, believed her that she was innocent. He hoped she would not imagine him feeling ill of her by not showing up in the dungeons to see her. He also realized that the action would leave her to her lonesome, so he allowed Tara to keep her the occasional company.
William was relieved to see that the kind woman hadn’t doubted his words concerning the captive, when he approached Tara early yesterday morning; she even looked relieved if he was not mistaken by reading the look on her face just then. He hadn’t questioned the oddity of it, and was just pleased to see her do it; the other woman, below in the dungeons, needed the change for the better.
Only it should not be shown too obvious. The few strands of itchy straw appeared in his mind. And then Buffy from one night ago, lying on it, when he made an appearance.
Her scared, but determined expression as she stood up to him, tiny but fiery at the same time….
Then the clouded haze of her eyes when he leaned in to kiss her - again…
Then an image of her cowering before him, her eyes tightly shut, her body trembling…
The last image was the one that pulled him out of his daze. William thought of himself being such a fool for not noticing anything until that night, but the revelations he had had about Buffy the last time he saw her were horrifying. The foul and disgusting deed of one man was clearly written on Buffy’s posture and expression that night. And that was the thing that had almost triggered the memory from his past to jump out and assault him once more.
So, still filled with the guilt, he assumed that Buffy would be more comfortable if there was only female company around her for the time being. No men to intimidate or scare her further. And who was better to be trusted in doing it well than the most loyal of his servants, Tara?
Lord William started pacing again.
The blonde servant reported him all that happened yesterday, as soon as he woke from his nightmare earlier this morning and went down into the servant’s quarters to look for her.
After asking her about it, Tara was quick to assure him that she had made Buffy’s cell as comfortable as it was allowed. She had not even questioned the fact that her master had shown up in her room barefoot and dressed only in his night cloak. Now that he thought of it, she had not even blinked. He did, for that matter, and that was only after he strode back to his chambers and started to pace.
The news Tara gave him this morning had pleased and calmed him somewhat. Of course, he knew the blonde servant would do everything just right.
But the dreams he had, those that were at fault for his abrupt wake and restlessness this morning, filled him with dread and the feeling of helplessness even now. These were the two things he loathed to feel the most.
Spike stopped pacing to sit heavily on one of the chairs placed before the blazing hearth, defeated utterly in an attempt to sort out his thoughts. Or at least lead them into the right direction.
He sighed and started to plan his day to the fullest, because he was sure if he were to be idle at some point during the day, he’d be soon too tempted to resist a visit to the dungeon. He knew, without a doubt, that one look at her big mossy eyes, would bring him to his knees, and he’d let her go, all the rest be damned.
That of course would be wrong, and very much so. It was not at all in her favor, nor was it in his.
That is why the distance is in order, he pondered. He had to be patient and strong. The latter was important here, he reminded himself sternly.
Yes, strong. Because if –when -he would manage to help her get out of this mess, he would have to be strong to let her go.
He just desperately hoped he would not manage to become some soft pansy boy in the process, by way his mind was going at this point.
Just as he started to argue with himself, if it would be wise to invite Miss Summers to work in his castle afterwards - just to save her from that dreadful, soon to be collapsing hut - there was a knock on the door.
He bid them to come in, never taking his eyes off the crackling fire before him, still staying so very deep in his thoughts.
‘’Master William?’’
It was Jonathan. William quickly stuffed something that conspicuously resembled a soft speech in his head he was preparing for the young blonde woman, and shoved it to the back of his mind. He straightened up his spine and looked over his shoulder to see the servant who was calmly standing at the door.
Well, at least he appeared to be calm, noted Spike, the little signs on the other man’s face told him that Jonathan was nervous about something.
Bloody… Christ! It wasn’t even a decent mornin’ yet, and something must have already gone to hell, if it made Jonathan twitch.
‘’Yeah? Out with it!’’ Spike snapped irritably, just before it dawned on him what might be going on…
‘’The Church Council has arrived, my Lord,’’ Jonathan quickly blurted out.
…Bugger.
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Buffy stared intently at the winding stares to see who was approaching. She chuckled silently at herself for panicking – it might be just Tara, bringing her breakfast with the usual soft smile on her kind face.
She was about to relax, when her back grew rigid at the first sound of voices. They were male.
Not Tara then, she mused, while a slow tremble of nervousness started rocking her body from the inside.
She firstly noted boots – several of them – descending, followed by long robes of red, purple and white colors, and finally faces of very grave looking men that wore them.
Lord William Rayne, dressed all in black once more, was the only one she recognized in line of many other men that were approaching her.
She did, however, recognize the robes some of those men wore. Excitement and fear were warring inside her at the same time. She stood up quickly from her makeshift straw bed and clenched her hands into tight fists, hoping all those men would not notice her trembling. They might take it as a sign of fear of them, a sign of guilt…
The Church Council finally came to judge her case.
She was so nervous that all the faces staring at her as they walked were blurred into a mass of skin colored orbs; she couldn’t concentrate to make herself see the characteristics of each one, like when they were descending. She could only know that there were many.
Was the number of people attending important or not? In her case, was the amount of people here in favor to her, or was it a bad thing?
The only face she could look at and see it clearly, was the one she already knew, so Buffy turned her questioning gaze toward him, hoping to see the encouragement there, or at least…. something pointed her way. She briefly caught the look Lord Rayne tossed her way as she watched him intently, but he broke it off too quickly for her liking. He seemed tense. Not at all a good sign, was it? Why was he so tense?
Panic started to nibble at her mind. Had she done something wrong?
As he and all the rest of the unknown faceless men descended the stairs and assembled themselves in front of her cell, Lord Rayne stood relaxed and devoid of any kind of emotion that would reflect on his face. The tension in him was gone. Poof, just like that.
He leaned on the wall next to her cell, so he was at the front of her doors, and watched her, while occasionally gracing other men with just as equally distanced eyes.
Buffy frowned at his cold behavior, and briefly assessed other men that were gathered before her. At least, as much as she could, given to the fact she couldn’t see their faces due to the almost blinding panic that held her in its clutches.
They were all very obviously men of the Church, dressed in white or red robes… but she already noted the colors before. She saw dangling crosses, brass and gleaming in the torchlight, as they hung from their necks. Some of the necks were thicker than she was used to seeing…
Buffy took a deep breath, hoping to calm herself down a bit. She tried to see their faces now, their lines of noses, mouths and eyes. When the picture of them finally cleared in the dead silence that followed their arrival, she noticed not one of them was smiling.
‘’Ah… that would be her, if I am not mistaken,’’ said the ratty looking man of medium height unpleasantly from the middle of them all.
Buffy almost snorted at that. She felt rigid and her muscles ached from all the tension in her, so she was not surprised that she felt the urge to laugh uncontrollably all of a sudden. The involuntary urge would be most unwelcome though, so she suppressed it down.
It was funny though. She was alone down here for days, and the proud observation the priest made was a bit pointless. However, she hadn’t liked the way he pronounced ‘her’ in the statement. It sounded too much like an accusation, an already made decision about her being guilty of the charges she was yet to hear.
Oh, God…
She darted her eyes toward the only person down here, which was past those accusations. Or at least, Lord William Rayne should be past them… he was when he was the last time down here... wasn’t he? He said so himself that he was…
Buffy wasn’t sure anymore, as she nervously recalled his absence from the dungeon for the past two days. Had the time he spent away from her managed to change his mind? She tried not to look imploringly at him, even as she felt herself helplessly fail in that attempt.
And even if she had looked at him in such a pitiful way, he hadn’t looked in her direction ever since that small man spoke, so she pinned her gaze at the dirty stone floor, right down to the one straw that lay at her bare feet. It was the only thing she knew for certain that would not judge her.
She felt like that lonely straw. Exiled from the rest of the pile, singled out… lost…
She felt cold, her injured feet hurt, but she didn’t try to move onto the straw pile behind her.
Buffy Anne Summers would stand tall in front of them all and prove to them that she was innocent.
She lifted her chin high and settled her eyes on one of the bars that separated her from the freedom, avoiding the cold looks of the men standing behind them.
TBC...
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hello! I'm finally brave enough to start posting again. Had a hard time writing anything these days because it was...well, hard. I split the chapter in two parts, since it would be too long if only just one. This is the easy part (for me). The next part will speed up everything into motion.
I hope you're not angry cause I posted the whole lyrics of this time's song - but I find fitting every single one of those verses and just couldn't decide.
The beautiful banner was made by Vette!! ((Thank you! Thankyouthankyou...))
And yes! This time I have a BETA! Thank you, SpikesGirl so much, for this!
I hope you're not angry cause I posted the whole lyrics of this time's song - but I find fitting every single one of those verses and just couldn't decide.
The beautiful banner was made by Vette!! ((Thank you! Thankyouthankyou...))
And yes! This time I have a BETA! Thank you, SpikesGirl so much, for this!
Chapter End Notes:
Tell me what you think, please, If you still read this story of course. :) Your opinions counts!