WandaCKeesey

WHICH WITCH IS WHICH
By Wanda C. Keesey

      "Rebecca, are you sure. . ."
      "They will love you as much as I do, Albert." Patting her companion's hand, Rebecca returned to her needlework. She tried to concentrate on the stitches, but found herself stealing glances at the handsome man next to her. "Stop worrying. When I wrote to Aunt Anna, she responded that she would arrange a party to celebrate our engagement."
     "But they haven’t met me. How do you know. . . "
     Dropping her hands into her lap, Rebecca turned slightly to face Albert. She smiled at his concern.
     Lord knows he's not the smartest man in the world. But he is the handsomest, turning the heads of women wherever he goes. Working at an anvil and bellows has developed his body into that of a God. His wavy black hair fell below his shoulders framing his broad face and strong chin. He doesn’t hide behind a beard and mustache as many men of the day, but kept his face cleanly shaven.
     "I have disturbed your sewing." His voice, husky and soft as a breeze reached out and stroked Rebecca, arousing her suppressed sexual desires. She watched his full moist lips move, inviting her. . .
     "No, Albert.   The movement of the train disturbs me. You never can, my love."
     His full lashes lifted to reveal the deep green pools that were his eyes.   The light of the rising sun flashed in their depths. With a sigh Rebecca tried to turn her attentions back to the work in her lap.
     He's a virgin. She knew this without asking. She could smell the energy of his imprisoned seed. A heavy musk scent. She too kept her body chaste for this one ceremony. She would give herself to him only once, but it would be enough.

     Albert watched with fascination as "his" Rebecca played her little game of "mouse got the cat".   She is beautiful and will be a fitting subject. That is most important. He put his head back against the hard wood seat. He would not sleep. He could not. Instead he watched her through eyes almost closed, but not quite. She will know I am watching and will take delight in it. That is good. She would be ready when the time came.
     Her black hair will look magnificent flowing freely down her bare back. From the size of the bundled braid, Albert guessed it would reach below her hips. Her velvet skin, unblemished by age or the acts of man would sing to the masses the wisdom of his selection. When he stared into her black/brown eyes, the whirlpools of light that swam there threatened to carry him away. But they never could. His own will was many times stronger that than that of any mere witch. Even a virgin-queen witch looking for a man to sire an heir to her coven's throne.
     Oh, yes, my dear Rebecca, I know what you are about. Your conceit has blinded you to my true purpose and that will be your downfall.
     With deliberate design, Albert shifted his body on the narrow seat. His arm brushed against Rebecca. He watched her hands stop their work. The fingers trembling for a scant second before she regained control. He almost laughed aloud at the sheer ease with which he could seduce this woman. With the right inducement, she would fall naked at his feet, unable to control the power of his desire.

     Are you smarter than I supposed, my future? Do you try me? Rebecca renewed her even stitches. It could be, she thought, I must be more vigilant.
     The train would soon arrive in Harold's Grove. A community built when a coven was forced to leave Salem two centuries before. Rebecca was chosen to bear the new Queen. She was beautiful, strong, and clever, and because of her calling, she was a virgin, unspoiled and untouched by man.
     In a week's time, she would plant the seed of the coven's future, her future in the depths of her womb.
     Rebecca's eyes strayed to Albert's leg next to her own. She could feel the muscles forced to press against her thigh by the swaying of the train.   What would it be like to couple with this man? Of course he will be drugged and under a mating spell. It would be the only time either of them would know the force of creating life. After the act, they would both be castrated, never again to feel the desire to fornicate. She and Albert would become slaves to their daughter.
     If she bore a son or was unable to conceive, they, she and Albert, and the male child if there was one, would be sacrificed to the new chosen Queen-Mother. Either way destiny would be fulfilled.
    A small tear formed in her eye. She blinked it away angrily. It is not for me to say this is not the chosen road. The honor of Queen-Mother was given to me as I was being birthed, and it will be mine to my death. My life will be my daughter's life, my death a sacrifice to her. May the powers forgive me in my weakness.
    With the skill of an experienced craftsman, Rebecca slid the needle between the fine warp of the linen and drew the ivory thread through, planning her next stitch as she examined the placement of the last. The cloth had to be ready for the ceremony. It would catch the spent liquids of their mating, and would be burned to preserve the purity of the line.

     Albert closed his eyes and concentrated on the smell and feel of her. She used crushed rose pedals hidden in her garment to cover the odor of sweat. He could smell them both. They excited him. Her thighs were lean and hard under the layers of cloth she wore. He felt their firmness as the train pushed them together. Her full breasts swelled with every breath. Every hair on his body craved to be crushed against the sweet flesh that sat so near. He almost groaned aloud as his body responded to his thoughts.
     The train would be met in Harold's Grove by members of his clan. As the one chosen to lead them, he would prove his dominance and power by presenting a willing slave to his followers.
     He would strip her naked and put a chain of gold links around her neck as the clan watched. After leading his submissive among them to be viewed, he would cause her to perform acts of perversion before he deflowered her. As a reward to his brethren he will then present her to them, to be used at their whim. He would never again see or touch her, nor would she be permitted in his presence under penalty of death.
     Sadness gripped his heart. His leadership as a druid will cost a Queen's ransom, his Queen.

     One more stop before Harold's Grove. The time grew near. Intensely aware of each tie crossed, each mile put asunder, each heart beat spent, the enchanted couple hurried toward their destinies.
     "NEXT STOP, HAROLD'S GROVE." The conductor traveled the aisles of the train.
     Passengers gathered their belongings and said their farewells to new friends.
     The train slowed with a bellow of smoke and the hissing of steam being released as the breaks screamed against the tracks, finally coming to a stop. With a sigh it settled into a low thumping cadence, waiting to be feed, watered and otherwise made ready for the next leg of its journey.
     Expectant relatives and friends on the platform scanned the disembarking passengers in search of their loved ones. One group of four women, all dressed in loosely fitting drab gray dresses, and matching bonnets talked quietly, their brows creased with concern. One of the four boarded the nearly empty train and started to walk through the cars one at a time. The other three followed her movements from the platform.
     The woman on the train stopped, she stared at one of the benches at the end of the third car. Her hand slowly rose to her mouth, before she glanced at her companions. With deliberate care she reached for something on the seat. Using both hands she held up a piece of ivory colored linen.
     "She is gone from us," she told the others through the open window.

      A tall man wearing a cape and carrying a cane, pushed past the woman on the train. He traversed the rest of the cars and disembarked. Two other men joined him.
      "I see no sign of him." He looked around the platform. The only other occupants were a group of women fussing over a piece of material. "Perhaps we missed him. Let us go back to the meeting place and see if he has arrived there." The others nodded in agreement.
     "Yes, that's where he must be." Knowing full well that they were both wrong.