A Nameless Witch

8

The settlement buzzed byearly evening at the arrival of a genuine White Knight. While performing my daily rounds, I listened and learned. Everyone knew of the White Knights though none had ever seen one in the flesh. They were an order of heroes dedicated to vanquishing evil in all its forms. They slew unruly monsters, deposed mad kings, put down illegitimate rebellions, and labored to make the world a better place. They were most famous for their virtue that rendered them invulnerable so long as they kept themselves pure.

I suspected this might be true to a degree. But his invincibility was as much due to the invisible brand on his forehead as his pure heart, and true invulnerability is beyond magic. Any enchantment, however well aided by a virtuous soul, has a flaw somewhere.

Everyone was interested in this White Knight. Even Sunrise, which surprised me. I didn't think her the type to swoon over a man she hadn't even seen. She'd been working on his arrival and hadn't gotten a glimpse before he'd disappeared into the fort.

She threw question after question at me while sitting in my tent.

"What did he look like? Was he handsome? He must have been handsome." She didn't squeal, but she came very close.

"He was attractive," I replied, "but handsome, I think not. His ears were too large. Not in an arresting way, but noteworthy."

"And tall? Was he tall?"

"He seemed tall, but he was sitting on a horse. It was hard to tell."

"But he must have been fair skinned with shimmering locks of gold."

"He was darker than any man I've ever seen."

"So, he is a not quite handsome, possibly tall or not, dark man."

I nodded.

"I won't say I'm not disappointed. Although there is a certain romance to the darkness."

"Legends are always better from afar," I said. "He was truly pure of heart. He made Newt sick. And he had the most handsome, deep black eyes."

Sunrise tapped her teacup. "You're smitten."

"Am I?"

"Very much so."

I believed her. On matters of love and lust, I trusted Sunrise as I had Ghastly Edna on witchly subjects. To be sure, she tested me.

"When you speak of him, you smile, and you are very spare with your smiles."

I felt the slight grin on my lips. "Is that all there is to it?"

"Not all. When you think of him, do you feel a flutter inside?"

I paid attention to my body and found, if not a flutter, then a flittering in my stomach.

"Flittering is even worse," she said. "Do you find yourself wanting to be near him, to kiss him?"

"I want to eat his face."

"And if, while eating his face, your lips should happen to touch his ..."

The flittering in my stomach moved lower and tingled softly in places that had never tingled before. I smiled, and realizing my smiling, I blushed.

"Most definitely smitten." Sunrise patted my hand to comfort me in much the same way Ghastly Edna had on occasion. "It's nothing to be embarrassed by. It's perfectly natural."

Newt chuckled. "Didn't you hear her? She wants to eat his face. There's nothing natural about that."

"Oh, be quiet. This is a good thing. You should be happy for her."

"Have you ever devoured a man?" I asked.

"No. But I'm a mortal woman. You're a witch, and cursed, and undead. So I think the ghoulish impulses are perfectly healthy."

This was logical, and I pushed aside my embarrassment. "Do you really think this is a good thing?"

"I see nothing wrong with it. It just shows that you're more human than you thought."

"Can I really love him?"

Sunrise laughed sweetly. "I said nothing about love. I said smitten. It can lead to love, but more often than not, it is merely a temporary infatuation."

"How do I know which it is?"

"You'll find out in due course."

Newt scowled. "She can't be smitten. He's a White Knight."

"Which only makes him more dashing and romantic."

"But she's a witch. Witches and White Knights don't mix."

"Who's to say?"

"You didn't sense his virtue. It's an abomination. Unnatural, I tell you. Not a speck of sin at all."

"Not even a speck?" Sunrise asked.

"Perhaps a speck. He is a mortal man, after all. But not nearly as much as would be healthy. I suspect he's never known a woman. Nor can such desire dwell in his heart."

Silently, I agreed. The White Knight was a poor choice, and I felt foolish. But Sunrise explained that no one chooses to be smitten. It just happens, and I felt better.

"You could have picked an easier man, but with my help and your considerable unwitchly assets, he might be yours."

"No. I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it isn't right. I can't kill a good man."

"Perhaps if you had a large dinner before . .."

"You heard her," Newt barked. "She isn't interested. Although if she did consume him in her passion ..." He grinned in demonic fashion.

"I'm doing nothing of the sort. These feelings will go away, won't they?"

"Eventually," she said. "It's your choice, but should you change your mind, feel free to come to me with any questions you might have."

I thanked her for the offer, but on this, I was inflexible. Ghastly Edna had warned me of my curse. Now I understood what she'd meant. To desire a man was to hunger for his flesh. This might not have been a problem except that as I was a very picky eater, I was also a very picky lover. I couldn't eat a good man, and I didn't want a bad one. I resigned myself to eternal virginity.

"I wonder why he's come?" Sunrise pondered.

"Gwurm says the White Knights wander the world, trust ing fate to take them to wrongs needing righting. Most likely, he's just passing through. I can't think of any wrong righting required here."

"If he were just passing through, I don't think he would have stopped and talked to the soldiers."

"If you'd really like to know, I can find out." There was more to the offer than a friendly favor. I wanted to see the dark White Knight, even if seeing him was all I could ever do.

"Newt, I need your body."

My familiar balked. "I'm using it right now."

"Only for moping."

I threw him a disapproving glare, and he walked to my side. I bent down and kissed his bill. Switching bodies with my familiar was a small magic. I thrust my mind into him. His jumped from his body and fell into mine for easy storage. My skin could have been an immobile prison for him, but I allowed him to move in it as a polite gesture.

I looked into my emerald green eyes. All the grime on my face did little to hide my beauty Fortunate for me so few looked below the surface.

Newt glowered with my mouth. He set me down on the table where I mixed medicines.

He spoke with my voice. "Egad, what a form." He felt my lips and the teeth. He pulled at the ears and ran his hands up and down my body. He squeezed my left breast and patted my bottom. Then ran fingers down my stomach to my thigh and back to . ..

"Would you please stop fondling my flesh?"

"Sorry." He stood, but my body swayed almost off its feet. He flapped my arms to regain his balance. They weren't wings, and it didn't help. Sunrise caught him before he could topple over. "The weight distribution is a little tricky." He sat. "All in all not a bad form. I'm not sure I care for all the bare skin or the feet. But I've always wanted teeth and what fine teeth they are. Sharp and deadly I bet you could crack bones with these." He chomped the air and gnashed my teeth.

"You can crack bones with your bill," I reminded.

"It's not the same."

"There's some fresh pheasants over there. Crack their bones all you like while I'm away"

He picked one bird from the small collection and ground my teeth enthusiastically.

I hopped off the table. I'd borrowed animal forms before as part of my education. Ghastly Edna had taught me to listen to the body. "Tell it where you want to go, dear, and it will tell you how to get there." Newt's body moved easily. His odd walk, programmed into the flesh by his years of uninterrupted use, remained part of it.

Sunrise parted the tent flap for me, and we stepped outside.

Gwurm, who made a habit of sitting outside my tent should I need him, raised his head. He was short an eye and rolling something from cheek to cheek. "Leaving so soon?"

I explained my switch with Newt and how I was off to the fort to check on the White Knight.

He spit out his missing eye and licked it to a lustrous, saliva-coated shine before popping it back into its socket. "How does being a duck who can't fly help?"

"Newt can fly. He's just forgotten, but my mistress taught me so I could take full advantage of a bird's body. It's very basic. Jump in the air, flap your wings, and mind the ground."

I stretched out my wings to loosen them. Sunrise and Gwurm wished me luck, and I was off. It took a few hops, but soon I was flying. It was a lurching, ungraceful spectacle, but better than any flight Newt had taken. I soared over the settlement in wide circles until I'd gotten the hang of it.

I banked to a flying pattern over the fort proper. I'd never seen it from this angle. It was a square of stone walls with only one gate. Smaller buildings of wood and stone had been built within. Lanterns and moonlight lit the large open areas. There weren't many soldiers. Most were in the barracks, attending the financial needs of prostitutes, or spending time with their families. One duck slipped past the night guard with very little trouble.

Finding the Knight was also easy. Half of Newt's demon essence belonged to his mind, but the other half rested in his body. I walked a few minutes, and let my uneasy stomach guide me to the Captain's office, which was a logical place to go anyway. The window was too high for me to look through. I hid in the shadows and listened.

"This is terrible!" moaned the Captain. "Horrible! This is supposed to be a quiet region. Nothing ever happens here."

"Exactly why I believe they are coming this way," the Knight replied. Even just his voice put a smile on my bill even as my nausea increased. "They intend to push their way up into the kingdom, past an unguarded border. You were fortunate to put this fort up when you did."

"Fortunate." The Captain grunted the word as one might a curse. "Yes, fortunate."

Then came silence. Not true silence, but whispered mutterings I assumed to be coming from the Captain.

I spotted a crawling beetle nearby.

"You, come here." I spoke softly in the language of insects.

Controlling insects is very basic magic. All one has to do is speak, providing a talent for talking to bugs, and they'll re spond to any suggestion without hesitation. They're too simple to know their own wishes from another's.

"I need your eyes." I would have been polite, but politeness would only confuse the beetle. I cast a minor spell attuning my vision to the bug's. "Fly to the window, and see what's going on."

The beetle did so in due haste. I learned that a bug's eyes are made for a bug's world, and in a bug's world, everything fits into three categories: Things you can eat, Things that can eat you, and Everything else. The Captain and the Knight were monstrous blurs. I couldn't tell one from the other or the furniture. Another spell rectified the problem, and the world became clear.

The dark White Knight was better-looking than I remembered. His ears did stick out, even more than I'd first noticed, but it just made them easier to nibble on. He was taller than I remembered too. Glimpsing him through a bug's eyes was probably the reason for that. I watched him a minute, studying the lines of his body without hearing the conversation. Then the Captain finally said something that caught my attention.

"I've heard tales but didn't think them true."

"It's true. I've seen it with my own eyes."

"But goblings don't amass in hordes. It's unheard of." The Captain leaned over the table to pour himself a glass of wine. "Exactly how many goblings are in a horde?"

"I didn't perform an exact count. Just take the largest number you can imagine and double it. Then double that for good measure."

The Captain frowned, gulped down his wine, performed the mental calculations, and frowned deeper. "I'll organize an evacuation immediately."

"Very good. And I've already formulated some battle strategies that should help. I'll begin drilling your men in the morning."

The Captain squinted. "Perhaps you misunderstand. I'm talking about a complete evacuation. Soldiers included."

"The soldiers will be staying." The White Knight spoke with quiet authority. It was not a command so much as a fact shared with the unenlightened Captain.

"Surely, you can see that this is a small fort. We aren't a match for such a force. I've got only five companies."

"Five hundred will have to suffice." Again, he said it as an indisputable truth.

"Not these five hundred. These are the five hundred worst soldiers in the kingdom. Most of them haven't seen a battle. Those that have are alive only because the death maidens weren't paying close enough attention. That's why Fort Stalwart was commissioned in the first place. It's not a fort. It's a dumping ground for all those soldiers barely competent enough to avoid dishonorable discharges. It was deliberately put here because this is where nothing ever happens."

The Knight said nothing. He stood tall. His face betrayed not a hint of despair or fear.

"You see my point?" the Captain asked.

The Knight still said nothing.

"This is a horde. A gobling horde. This requires the best men available. Or at least not the very worst."

"Those men are not here," the White Knight observed.

"We'll send for them."

"By then, it will be too late. The goblings will have pushed deeper into the realm, and once the horde is entrenched, it will be nearly impossible to get rid of. I fear the damage they'd inflict in the meantime."

"I fear the damage these men might inflict on themselves with their own swords."

"Five hundred men will be enough," the White Knight said. "I've seen the destruction this horde has wrought on the ravaged countryside. I've been tracking it for months, always too late to mount a defense. Now that I finally have the opportunity, I won't throw it away. I have pledged my honor that the rampage ends here."

The mark on the Knight's forehead shimmered. A wisp of magic glowed around the Captain's heart, where a man's courage is found. The fear fell from his face though it didn't disappear entirely.

"I'll talk to the men in the morning. There won't be a soldier within twenty miles by the afternoon, I can assure you."

"I shall speak with them. They'll see the importance of standing up to this threat." The White Knight smiled. "I can assure you. Good evening, Captain."

Looking very tired, the Captain slumped into a chair. "Good evening."

The Knight exited the office. I wanted the beetle to follow him, but an insect's mind can only hold a thought so long. It flew from the window before I could whisper another command. I ended my spell and returned to looking through my own eyes. Or Newt's own eyes, but they were mine for the moment.

The White Knight stood not ten feet away, and he had quite obviously glimpsed me even hidden away in the shadows.

I'd been caught, and I panicked. I turned and ran right into a wall that I'd forgotten. I lost my balance and my sense of my duck's body and fell over.

Gentle hands righted me. The touch burned the demon in Newt's flesh. They released me to my unsteady webbed feet.

"Easy there, duck. Watch where you're going."

I glanced up at the Knight. He smiled, and I nearly forgot myself and smiled back. Normal ducks couldn't smile, and I caught myself. It helped that I was throwing up.

I felt terrible. My stomach convulsed. My eyes watered. This was only half of what Newt had suffered. I didn't truly puke. I just spit up a mouthful of foul dribble that rolled up my throat and out my bill.

"Still feeling poorly, I see."

I raised my head and glanced into those dark eyes and ears made for nibbling. My nausea grew. I suspected this was quite normal, the kind of nervous stomach one feels when smitten.

"I think we should get you home, duck."

He swept me up in his arms. I felt ill, but not quite as ill as before. Newt's body was developing a tolerance, even if my nervous stomach was still swirling. He held me close, despite the risk of fowl vomit. He was very warm, made to seem even warmer by the chill in the air.

I was a creature made to dwell in darkness. Darkness is cold, and cold is how I preferred to be. A good chill is subtle, comforting without being obnoxious. Heat is rudely invasive, but in the Knight's arms, I discovered the first good warmth I'd known. Even through the flesh of Newt's duck body, it filled my mind with carnal tingles. This could only lead to trouble. Even seeing him, I realized, had been a mistake. I should have jumped from his arms and flown away. I snuggled closer, resting my head against his chest. Wrong or not, I couldn't leave his warmth. I told myself this was a small indulgence, that as long as I was using Newt's body, there couldn't be any lasting harm. I almost believed it too.

The Knight inquired as to my ownership from two passing soldiers.

"That's the witch's duck, sir," the first replied.

"I thought the witch's duck had fangs," said the second.

"Ducks don't have fangs."

"Not normal ducks, but I would think a witch's duck would. And eyes that glow in the night. And claws on the feet."

"Hers doesn't have any of that. I've seen it up close a dozen times. It's just a duck. Snooty little beast, but very normal otherwise."

"How can a bird be snooty?"

"If a bird can have fangs, I have no problem believing it can be haughty."

"So it does have fangs."

"No, it doesn't. Although, thinking about it, I see your argument. A witch has no business associating with a snobbish, normal duck."

The White Knight interrupted to ask where the witch lived. Then he left the soldiers to their discussion of what sort of ducks a witch should associate with.

"At the very least, it should be black," the first observed before we fell out of earshot.

The Knight carried me through the settlement. He stroked my neck and spine. An urge to burrow into his chest and curl up in the damp heat inside his heart came to me. Should I ever actually touch him while I was an accursed woman, I couldn't imagine what I might do.

We arrived at my tent far too soon and not soon enough. The White Knight bowed to Sunrise. Then, much to my pleasant surprise, he bowed to Gwurm. He didn't bow to Penelope, but I think we would have had he known her alive in her fashion.

"Is this the witch's tent?"

Sunrise nodded. "There you are, Newt. We've been looking everywhere for you."

"Is the witch in?"

She hesitated, although she hid this behind a pleasant smile. "One moment. I'll fetch her."

I was too distracted by the Knight's firm, yet soft, embrace to realize this for the mistake it was. Sunrise went into my tent. Whispers were exchanged within. After a very loud grunt from Sunrise that I couldn't quite decipher, they emerged.

Newt scowled. I don't think I'd ever used my face to scowl before, and I made a note to never let it scowl again. It was a shade too hideous. Even a witch should take care to not overdo her ghastliness. It was a horrid expression that cast shadows over my eyes and made my teeth seem terribly pointy and threatening. There were feathers and a spot of blood on my chin.

This didn't upset me. Much. It was best to look dreadful before the Knight, given my feelings toward him. Newt had forgotten my hat, and my hair, long and silky and shining even in the faint light, was draped over my shoulder as if on display. It was a lapse I never would have made, but Newt was new to the art of looking witchly.

Newt spit flecks of bone. "I'd wondered where he'd gotten to."

The Knight handed me over. I missed his touch the moment it was taken away. Out of his arms, I had no reason to remain in Newt's feathers. I undid the magic, and our minds returned to their proper bodies. The demon in Newt's mind united with the essence in his flesh, and he instantly threw up. He was kind enough to turn his head away.

"Are you certain he's well?" the Knight asked with genuine concern.

"He's part demon," I said.

"Possessed?"

"No, not possessed. But there is a dab of demon in him. Enough to make him sick in the presence of true virtue." I gave Newt to Gwurm. He strolled away, carrying Newt a comfortable distance from the White Knight's vomit-inducing virtue.

There was no way to gracefully retreat. I disregarded politeness without excusing myself and ducked into my tent. The conversation carried on, but I was too busy tending to my appearance to listen. I tucked my hair under my hat and pulled the brim low as it would go. Then I rubbed dirt over my grimy face. I should've hid until the Knight went away, but I didn't have that much sense. I stepped out, keeping my head down and eyes on the ground.

"My sincerest apologies for your duck, good woman," said the Knight. "I thought I was helping the poor creature."

"It's the thought that counts," Sunrise said. "Might we know your name, good sir?"

"How impolite of me." He took her hand and bowed. "I am Wyst of the West, Defender of the Weak, Destroyer of the Foul, Sworn Champion of Decency, Avowed Foe of Evil." He bent lower to touch his forehead to her hand. "And I am honored to make your acquaintance, miss . . . ?"

"Sunrise. And you've met Newt. The troll is Gwurm."

My broom tapped Sunrise's shoulder.

"Oh, yes. This is Penelope."

I could only see the Knight's boots. They turned in my direction, and the heels clicked together. "And you are?"

"She has no name," Sunrise replied.

I called upon my best mysterious whisper. "Does the wind need a name? Do the stones or the stars or the trees? To name these things is both foolish and unneeded. Putting a name to them doesn't make them be any more than they already are."

I allowed myself a small smile. I sounded very much like Ghastly Edna at that moment.

"How very true." He bowed, but I didn't offer my hand. "And very witchly."

The compliment reddened my cheeks. I turned my back and felt those tingles that seemed only to be growing stronger despite my best efforts.

"Could we reward you with something to eat?" Sunrise asked.

"I eat only bread."

"Some tea then?"

"I drink only water, and I really must get back to the fort. There are grave matters I must attend to."

"Of course."

Wyst of the West, Defender of the Weak, Destroyer of the Foul, Sworn Champion of Decency, Avowed Foe of Evil, bid us a pleasant evening, bowed once more, and started back to the settlement proper at a brisk walk.

"You were right," Sunrise observed. "He isn't exactly handsome. Not in an obvious manner. But the features of his face combine subtly in a very pleasing fashion. It's better than handsome because handsome can fool you. Most anyone can be handsome in the right circumstance, but a pleasing face only gets better the more you look at it."

Penelope twirled and somersaulted through the air in agreement. I was glad to know that this was not merely my imagination.

"Why were you trying to get him to stay?" I said.

"Just trying to help. You may be a very fine witch, but when it comes to romance, you have less experience than most children."

I started to protest, but she had none of that.

"I won't argue the point. You may be privy to forbidden secrets, but I know a few secrets myself. This is greater than both of you. Any notions you entertain otherwise are merely wishful thinking. Now what did you learn?"

I told of the approaching gobling horde and how the White Knight had come here to lead the men of Fort Stalwart against it. My thoughts were elsewhere though. Not on the Knight, but on Sunrise's words. It took a half hour of contemplation before I grasped their true meaning. By then, she'd finished her last cup of tea and was setting off to work.

"Did you say, greater than both of us?" I asked.

"Yes. Couldn't you tell?"

"Tell what?"

"Oh, dear nameless witch, you didn't notice, did you?"

"Notice what?" I felt vaguely annoyed.

She laughed. My embarrassment caused me to blush, something I seemed to be doing often lately.

"Why Wyst of the West, dear. He's smitten with you as well."