Witch Hunt

Chapter 1


The wind seemed to sneak via the ground in order to jump over every obstacle and then, like a playfully young dog, going further. Six crows whirled down out of the grey sky, making a wide turn and settling on three huge rocks. Two of the rocks stood upright, the third laid across, like a roof, on them. They formed a cave, a beautiful protection against the cold and the rain. Yet, no animal nor human came to take shelter, for when the wind rushed over the plain from Bolted Mear and crept between the rocks, it made a high, howling noise.

The lamentation from two souls in need, said the inhabitants of Soint Herward, a village that 3 miles from that place against the flank from a hill was creeping away. After all, everybody knew the sad story from Clea Greendore and they still tell it at night over and over again.

Beautiful Clea Greendore was a beauty. Everyone thought that, especially her boyfriend Tomo Milicevic. They would have married and the young Milicevic had already started with the structure of a small stone house by the river. Clea helped her mother with the housekeeping, spun and weaved very well and knew how to cook. At the village parties she was always the giggler. Maybe it was at the harvest party that the nobleman Matt, the son of lord Wachter, noticed her.

The lord had built a house in the neighbourhood from Sattlebridge and his son Matt spent most of the year there. Nobleman Matt was soon corrupted by the beautiful red-haired girl with the green eyes. And rich guys get mostly what they want. They have the means for that purpose. At first, Clea was very delighted about the attention that she got from the nobleman and she was quite content when the servant from mylord asked her mother if Clea could come to 'serve'. The girl soon realized which 'services' nobleman Matt expected from her. He called her 'honey' gave her ribbons and even a silver brooch as a present. Clea smiled and showed her white teeth, ogled with her green eyes and found the game amusing.
Until a night...

As the older inhabitants from Soint Herward told this part of the story, they lowered their voices to warning whispers. Then the girls bent their heads and made the sign of the cross.
Until a night...