Posts Tagged ‘fairy tale’

Once upon a time, in a land far from where I write to you, existed two kingdoms headed by two great rulers. The kingdoms of Elgany and Navaria bordered on each other. Elgany, a kingdom of wealth and culture lay to the temperate south. The kingdom of Navaria, a land of harsh landscape and strong people lay to the cold north.

King Roman of Navaria and King Benjamin of Elgany were the closest of allies and the greatest of friends. Benjamin’s queen, Manon, was the sister in law to Roman’s cousin which made them relations of sorts. In all of their years as friends King Roman’s family had never hosted Benjamin at their home, Castle Kroestov. Benjamin rarely left Mardaux Palace in Elgany so it came as something of a surprise when Roman received a letter from him stating that his arrival in Navaria was imminent.

So what is the king like?” Roman’s wife, Francesca, had asked having never met Benjamin.

Roman smiled as he considered the thousand adjectives that would befit his friend. Burly, friendly, loud, excitable; all of them would not suffice. Benjamin had an overwhelming presence. He treated all as though they were his family. His visit made for an unexpected delight.

Roman waited in the entrance of Castle Kroestov as the convoy of golden carriages carrying the pale blue and yellow flags of Elgany drew nearer. The Navarian king was accompanied by his two sons, James the elder and Edward the younger. Both of them were in the throws of early adolescence. The king’s only daughter, Charlotte, waited at her father’s side. She was unsure of what to expect.

The Navarian guards – dressed in the black and red of their own flag – opened the doors to allow entry for their regal visitors. In a parade of noise and commotion, King Benjamin came bounding in. His large smile wide and bright. He abstained from respectful bows to his fellow king and instead gripped Roman in a tight embrace. Behind Benjamin marched a very pretty queen with long golden hair. Her neck was completely covered in glittering pearls. Her fingers were laced with diamonds. She wore a gown of rich purple with emeralds sown into the bodice. Queen Manon was a great deal younger than her husband. She was a youthful woman who shone radiant amongst the finery. Four girls ushered in behind their mother in order of height. Behind them a nanny carried Ben’s only son, the infant Prince Julian.

You brought the whole family!” Roman cheered. “I’m so happy to see you all.”

Manon gave a polite curtsey to the Navarian king. Her daughters followed suit.

Benjamin approached Edward and tousled his ebony curls. “Your sons are grown now Roman. What strong young men they are.” He drew a small sickle bladed dagger from the pocket of his black travelling cloak. The handle was studded with diamonds. He handed it to the young prince.

Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Edward in receipt to the gift. His eyes were drawn to the beautiful weapon.

Ben, you shouldn’t have,” Roman interceded.

Nonsense! Every well bred boy in Elgany has one, Eddy should too,” said Benjamin. He smiled at Edward before turning his attention to James. “And you must be James.” This time he shook the boy’s hand with reserved respect. “Future ruler of this wonderful land.” He drew a golden seal with the emblem of Elgany etched on it from his other pocket. “This jewel has never left the confines of Mardaux. Keep it safe.”

James shook his head. “Your Majesty is too generous. I cannot accept this.”

Benjamin shrugged his shoulders. “Of course you can. It is mine to gift as I please. Perhaps when you are king you will remember this and look to Elgany with kindness. Long may the friendship between our two kingdoms continue.”

Before any more objections could be made, Benjamin lifted Princess Charlotte into his arms. A little girl of fewer years than her brothers, Charlotte giggled as she was spun around like a ragdoll and placed on Benjamin’s shoulders. “I have always had a keen eye for precious things and I think I may have found the most precious of them all!”

Roman laughed, “My little princess is not for sale.”

Pity,” was Benjamin’s retort. He leaned forward still carrying the child on his shoulders he kissed Francesca on both cheeks. “My belle, introductions are not necessary for you. Roman speaks of you so often I feel I know you as well as I would my own sister.”

Francesca curtseyed. “I could say very much the same. It is a pleasure to have you here with us.”

Roman drew Benjamin aside. He lowered his voice to a more solemn tone. “I am pleased that you have come to visit us but I must ask, is there another purpose?”

Benjamin’s large brown eyes clouded with solemnity much unlike him. He drew Charlotte from his shoulders and down his back. “We should speak alone.” He addressed the child, “Charlotte, my Madeleine would very much like to meet you. Will you show her around?”

At the king’s request, Charlotte made to introduce herself to the Elganite princesses.

So what is wrong?” Roman asked.

What I have to tell you is of grave importance,” Benjamin began. “My kingdom is in danger.”


As Roman and Benjamin drew away to talk alone, Manon left her ladies in waiting behind and was escorted by Francesca to a study. It was a cerebral room, filled with polished mahogany furniture and shelves filled with books. A fire was lit. The cold snow and icy winds outside contrasted the cosy warmth of the study. It was a room that Francesca kept exclusively for her own use. Even the servants of the castle dared not to enter.

You have a beautiful home, Your Majesty,” Manon commented with politeness.

It’s draughty and very grey but it is home. Not as lovely as Mardaux I hear.”

Manon smiled coyly. “My husband enjoys the finer things.”

Francesca poured them a glass of deep red wine each in crystal goblets. Like al of her children, she had raven hair and a pale complexion. She was a striking woman with the brightest blue eyes.

You like the finer things too from what I see hanging around your neck,” Francesca commented, handing a glass to the Elganite queen.

Manon clasped the glass in both hands. She shied away from eye contact with Francesca. “I’m glad I have the opportunity to speak to you alone.”

Francesca seated herself on the sofa opposite. She lay one arm over the back, the other holding her wine. “Really?” she enquired. “Might I ask why?”

Manon took a deep breath. “There is talk, rumours of what you are capable of.” Francesca narrowed her gaze. She already knew what Manon referred to but she wanted to draw it from her like venom from a snake bite. “They say you are a witch of tremendous power.”

Francesca betrayed no emotion. “The say a lot of things,” she answered.

My little boy, Julien, is a sick infant. Benjamin has hopes of him succeeding him one day but I fear he won’t see his next birthday.”

Isn’t that what doctors are for?” Francesca dismissed.

We’ve had the best doctors that money can buy. It is no use. Please, Your Majesty, if the rumours are true you can help my little Prince Julien.”

Francesca darted a glance at the door before leaning forward. “My twin, who is no longer with us, was also named Julien. He would not have liked to see any suffering in his name sake. I will help your little boy but there is something you have to do.”

Anything! I am at your mercy. No price is too great.”

Francesca raised her hand to hush her. “Firstly, calm yourself down. I can’t have anyone overhear what I am about to do. Secondly, my husband can know nothing of this. He would worry that his people wouldn’t look too kindly on witchcraft, no matter its intention.”

Manon breathed a sigh of relief. “I am eternally in your debt. Your Majesty is too kind.”

Francesca shook her head. “Hold your applause,” she said. “There is a great penalty attached to giving life, even to one so small. It can’t be conjured from nowhere. It has to be taken from something.”

Manon wiped the tear that was forming in the corner of her eye. “I’ll pay with my own life.”

Francesca stood. She went to a cabinet by the window in an almost gliding step. From a drawer she removed a straw figure in the crude shape of a person. “I can see to it that your little boy never falls to ill health. It can’t come from a parent because that is where the life springs.”

Manon’s upset was beginning to grow. “What can I do?”

Francesca clasped the poppet tightly in her right hand. “If your baby boy means so much to you, choose one of your daughters to be replaced.”


Princess Madeleine of Elgany, the youngest of Benjamin’s daughters was making a game of hiding and seeking with Princess Charlotte of Navaria. Charlotte had the advantage of knowing Castle Kroestov as home so she hid and Madeleine went in search of her. Madeleine’s excitement for the game grew when she wandered into the kitchens and found Charlotte stowed away underneath one of the counters. Charlotte cried out and ran, almost knocking the chef onto his backside. Madeleine chased after her, both girls alight with laughter.

The Elgany princess lost her Navarian counterpart somewhere along the third floor so she was searching from room to room. Her heart beating a little faster with the thrill and anticipation of the game. One of the doors lay ajar. Madeleine assumed Charlotte had hid in there so she boldly charged inside. She almost crashed into a man larger in presence than her father. He wore a military uniform but not like that of the guards at the entrance of the castle. He was an officer.

And who might you be?” he asked. His grin stretching in maliciousness from ear to ear. His mouth filled with pearly white teeth.

Madeleine hesitated. She stepped back towards the doorway. “I’m looking for Her Highness, Princess Charlotte.”

The officer bore down on her like the jaws of a great monster. “Little girls shouldn’t be in here,” he said. His voice was husky but polite with underlying tones of danger.

Madeleine’s eyes were drawn to a table behind him. Spread across it was a map of Navaria with red pins in ever widening circles around Castle Kroestov. The officer noticed her gaze and challenged it. Still smiling his dark eyes blazed like a fierce forest predator. The sheepskin fur forming part of his uniform seeming much too soft for such a marauding creature.

Drenisov?” barked the little Princess Charlotte.

The officer – Drenisov – looked past Madeleine to the Navarian princess and offered her a most congenial bow. “Your Highness, this young lady appeared to be lost. I was merely directing her onto the proper path.” He gracefully moved back towards the table and folded the map away.

This young lady is Her Highness, Princess Madeleine. She is also my friend. You will show her the proper respect.” Charlotte took Madeleine’s hand and pulled her away. Drenisov watched them with a growl until they were out of the line of view before closing the door and locking it.


Benjamin paced the room. Roman watched his restlessness from an armchair by the fire. At the Navarian king’s request they had been left alone.

There are whispers of my people overthrowing me. They no longer believe in my right as a ruler granted to me from the Lords above,” Benjamin was explaining.

How can you be so certain?” Roman asked.

Benjamin shook his head. “My life has been in danger for some time. I can’t even trust my own people. They are looking for my head.”

I never thought I would see the day where a rebellion would rise in Elgany.” King Roman was flabbergasted. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Benjamin affixed his usual light air again. “My Minister, Antoinie Lubek, has been a tremendous help. He is keeping the people appeased until we can find the source of this upset.”

Navaria will always be your friend and ally,” Roman assured him.

Benjamin gripped his arm. “I don’t fear for myself. As a King my life has always been forfeit to a higher purpose. It is my young boy Julien that warrants my concern. Should anything happen to me they will make an example of him as heir to my throne. They will tear him apart or worse, they will make him a puppet to their whims.” Roman listened to his friends concerns with silent horror. “The reason I came here – aside from seeing your lovely home – was to ask you a personal favour.”

Roman urged him to continue. “Should there be an uprising in Elgany, will you provide safe passage and refuge for Julien?”

Of course,” said Roman immediately without having to give any thought to the matter.

I don’t ask you this as a king and ally. I ask you this as a friend and a father.”

Roman had already decided. He too had a strong paternal instinct. Roman’s first dedication was to his children. This was a bond that he and Benjamin shared. “Of course I will assure that Julien is safe here but what about you? What about your girls?”

Benjamin itched his nose like he did most often when he was feeling nervous. “Nothing is certain yet. I just want to be cautious. I have to return to Elgany. If there is to be a revolution then my leaving will only fan the flames. My girls will be safe enough. Manon can take them as far as Hagen Moor if she needs to and they will not be disturbed. They will be of no consequence to the rebels. However, they will bay for Julien’s blood and so I need to know he will be somewhere he can be protected until he is old enough to return to Elgany and resume his throne.”

You needn’t fear. For as long as I live your family will always be kept safe…”


Princess Marie, the eldest of King Benjamin’s children, had taken quite a shine to Prince James of Navaria. She had watched as he finished talking with his young brother and began to make his way to the third floor. She followed him in the hope of being able to elicit a conversation. Marie was blossoming into a beautiful young woman. As an Elganite of noble birth she took great pride in her appearance. She was dressed often in pale blue as it matched the soft tone of her eyes and lemon because it highlighted the warmth of her golden tresses. She watched as James made his way along a long corridor on the third floor engrossed in his own thoughts. He quickly turned, having forgotten something and made his way back towards her. Marie turned to the painting on the wall at her side. She focused on the artists attention to detail and the brush strokes that had been given so much thought. She couldn’t really be sure of what she was looking at because she felt James close beside her. Her heart began to beat a little faster.

Are you lost?” James asked politely.

Marie turned to him, hoping she seemed nonchalant. “I was just admiring this painting. There is so much beautiful art work around the castle. It must be thrilling to be able to look upon it every day.”

James too looked at the painting. It was an image of Castle Kroestov painted generations previous to theirs. “Well as thrilling as it can be looking at a picture of a the castle every day whilst in that castle everyday …” Marie shied away. James laughed. “I’m sure Mardaux Palace must be brimming with art work.”

It is but the art there seems so … superficial. When there is so much of it, it begins to become less special. What you have here is genuine.”

Prince James had a handsome smile. He had the finely sculpted features of his mother and the charm of his father. His raven hair was thick and well presented. He was not overly indulged in jewels or finery. His simple refinement echoed the strength of his people. “I’m very glad you like it. You are Princess Marie aren’t you?”

Marie offered a polite curtsey. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said.

James took her hand and kissed it. “The pleasure is all mine I assure you.” Marie bowed her head and smiled coyly. “It is getting a little stuffy in here. I was going to walk in the gardens for a little while. Would you like to join me?”

Marie became giddy. “I would love to.”

The snow had ceased. The sun sat high in the sky as James and Marie made their way through the well tended gardens of Castle Kroestov. They saw little snow in the South so Marie was enjoying the glittering sparkle that lay across the deep red of the rose bushes.

They were discussing matters that brought them far from their regal parentage.

I enjoy sailing,” Marie was explaining. “I have my own little boat which I take up and down the Chessy River.”

James was intrigued. He had heard much of the Elganite way of life but had never witnessed it first hand. “I was on a boat once when I was a small child. The rocking motions made me sick the entire time. I have never been back on one since. My little sister, Charlotte, loves boats. So what is your boat’s name?”

Promise you won’t laugh?”

James raised his hands. “I promise…”

Alice,” Marie admitted.

James shrugged his shoulders. “That’s a fine name for a boat.”

Marie explained, “I had an invisible friend as a child. We went on all sorts of adventures. The boat is named after her.”

James chuckled. “Now that is just adorable.”

Marie laughed too. She slapped James’ arm playfully. “I warned you it was silly.”

James shook his head. “Not at all. I’m sure Alice is the finest vessel in all of Elgany.”

As they made their way to the furtherest end of the gardens they passed a large crooked tree. It was old and withered. Amidst the winter splendour the crooked tree stood brazenly against the beauty. It was not inviting, it was not life giving. The withered hands of the branches reached out like it threatened to throttle passers by.

Marie began to feel dizzy. James noticed her steps lurch so he gripped her arm. “I’m feeling a little faint,” she said.

Do you want to sit down?” James asked with genuine concern.

No I will be fine. It will pass.”

Marie’s delicate frame became a dead weight. With a sudden pull she slipped from James’ grasp and tumbled at the foot of the crooked tree. Blood spilled from her mouth onto the fresh white snow. She was gone. The doctors claimed her heart had failed her as though it had been crushed under a vice-like grip. Francesca watched from the window as attendants and a distraught king and queen saw to their daughter.

Fear, panic and horror would quickly spread and the two great kingdoms of Navaria and Elgany would fall to ruins.

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My dearest uncle,

I beseech you. I have written thrice before and have yet had no response. I hear that your kingdom is in turmoil. I long to help you bring the traitors to justice but if I leave my post they will hang me for desertion.

Three days ago, in the early morning, I was given a notice that I am accused of treason. This suggestion that I have led the rebellious forces against you was signed by your own hand. I have spent my life being nothing but loyal to you as my uncle and as my king. Just say the word and let me return home safely. I will find the ones spitting poison in your ears and I will have their heads.

Should you decide that my death is necessary just remember, my mother loved you. She took her own life because she couldn’t be with you. The idea of the separation was too much for her.

I hear that the one they call Annabelle now rules beside you. Be wary of her, for she has the eyes of a hawk and the tongue of a viper. A darkness follows her, the likes of which I have never seen.

Should I never see you again please know that I went to my death continuing to proclaim my innocence.

Your loving and devoted nephew.


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The bells had been filling the night air for hours with their tormenting knell. The castle wept for the death of the much beloved King Roman.

There’s going to be quite a few changes around here,” General Drenisov commented as a young boy was dragged down the dungeon corridor, a guard on each arm. Drenisov followed them.

Let me go!” screamed the teenager as he pulled himself away from his captors. His thick black hair was in disarray. His bright blue eyes sparked under the low lighting.

The general closed in on his captive, several years his junior. The boy had been badly beaten. His lips and teeth were stained with blood.

Let me go and I will forget any of this happened,” said the younger.

This drew a wide grin from the general. The guards gripped the prisoner tighter. “You don’t make those decisions. You murdered the king. Any chances you had of ever seeing daylight again died with him.”

The prisoner shook his head. “You can’t do this!”

Drenisov crossed his arms over his chest. “I think you will find I can. You are a murderer and you will suffer the same fate as all murderers in this Kingdom do.”

The prisoner snarled. “The king did not die at my hand.”

Drenisov was unrelenting. “He was a defenceless, sick, old man. You have stolen our beloved king and for what? Your own selfish ambition?”

The prisoner pursed his lips and spat on the general, spoiling his red and gold uniform.

Take him away!” Drenisov ordered.

The guards dragged the prisoner away. “I didn’t do it!” he was screaming. “The king was already dead when I got there!”

The prisoner was cast into the dungeons. The door was locked tightly. The only window he had was from a small window. He would have to wait. Someone would help. One day the truth of what happened that night would be discovered.

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Red Snow will be coming soon as a graphic novel series




I get asked quite a lot what inspires a new story. The simple answer is everything. It can come from the events in my life, something profoundly innocent that my nieces or nephews have said to me right down to watching how people interact with each other. Something as simple as becoming frustrated in the supermarket can make way for an intricate plot where war is being waged. Arriving in the beautiful but grey city of Aberdeen as a young, naive, seventeen year old student  was the inspiration for Helena’s arrival in Navaria (Red Snow). My imagination has always been vivid and it has allowed me to see the world in a unique way.

As far as ‘My Silly Little Confessions’ is concerned, it comes primarily from the short story, ‘Confessions of an Anatomist’ which featured in ‘Myths and Tales’ Volume 1. The inspiration for this is my days as an anatomy student. (A great exaggeration of this of course!).

So far the first five chapters have been drafted. They are still to go through a lot of the creative process to get them in the best form they can be but for the most part the story is coming together. So begins the real uphill climb to publication. I have spent a lot of the past few years writing short stories (Rogue Battalion, Dust and Devotion, Myths and Tales, The Grip) but it always a delight to work on a full novel because that is when you really get the chance to delve into characters, what makes them tick and how this effects the plot.

Each author has their own style and way of adapting but for me the early stages are spent taking notes on the characters, their interactions and bringing the skeleton of the story together. That’s when the body count tends start mounting up!

To all the aspiring authors out there, just remember that there are no set rules for these things (grammar, punctuation etc. aside). Readers feed on your own enthusiasm so write the book you would want to read. In the meantime, the January launch date will soon be upon me so time to start working on chapters 1 – 10. Wish me luck…

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mslc blurb announcement


The whole house was bathed in darkness. The heavy, dusty curtains had barely been drawn and the fire place in the main parlour was lit even though a latent heat hung in the air. Furniture was sparse.

It wasn’t me who sent for you,” Julien announced. “It was my twin.” He gestured to a girl seated on the floor by the fire. Her royal blue dress fanned out around her. Her thick coal black hair almost reached the bottom of her back. Like Julien, she had the most piercing shade of blue eyes.

An older man sat in a bottle green sofa chair, staring blankly into the nothingness in front of him. His grey hair still clung onto the youth of its black roots. His beard was full but neatly trimmed.

Annabelle turned her attention to the girl. “Why did you send for me?” she asked. Her attitude at the door with Julien having simmered down to a cold vehemence.

I’m Francesca,” said the girl. “That there in the chair was my father. We are the premier family and we have returned home. Come, I want to show you something.” Francesca took Annabelle’s hand and led her into the next room. It led from the main parlour but it was brighter and airier than the rest of the house. A mongrel dog lay cowering underneath a large dining table.

Come, Savo!” Francesca called to the animal. It drew itself slowly from its hiding place. Its ears dropped, eyes lowered and its tail quivering between its legs. Francesca held her hand out. The dog tipped her fingers with its nose. She smiled and drew her hand softly across the light brown fur. The canine responded with affection. Francesca flashed a smile to Annabelle., filled with radiance and malice in equal measure, before she tapped the dog between the eyes and it fell to the ground in a fit, its leg twitching. White drool gathered at the corner of its mouth.

Annabelle asked, “Why did you do that?”

Francesa shrugged her shoulders. “It amuses me. It also highlights my point.”

Annabelle raised her eyebrows. “So what is your point?”

Francesca smiled. She watched the mongrel convulse on the floor in front of her. “Well, no matter how many times I do this to him he still comes to me whenever I beckon. I open the door so he can flee but he chooses not to.”

He’s just a dumb dog,” said Annabelle.

Perhaps, but people are not so different,” Francesca explained. “People have an inexplicable need to be shown the way by someone or something else. If only they opened their eyes they could see for themselves. As powerful as they think they are the people of Vorelia are no exception. With the magic we possess it is imperative that a guiding hand is laid over their eyes. As the premier I will do what I must.”

So your going to make us all sick for your amusement?” Annabelle groaned, pursing her lips.

Francesca laughed.

Not everyone. All I have heard since I came home was that you are quite strong. You are the one they have turned to whilst your premier was gone. I brought you here because I thought we might be friends.”

It was Annabelle’s turn to smile. “Perhaps.”

Francesca dropped her gaze back onto the dog whose fit was beginning to fade. “Why don’t you start by deciding a path for this beast, before fate decides for him.”

Annabelle tensed her broad shoulders. She reached her hand out, laying it on the dog’s fading heart. Life fell away from him.

You decided death?” Francesca snickered.

Annabelle replied, “Anything that takes such punishment and returns for more isn’t really worthy of life.”

Francesca ran her hand over the canine and it faded into ashes. “Then you should meet Basilio, my father.”

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COMING SOON – The Red Snow graphic novel series.

The people parted and began jeering as a young woman dressed in filthy rags, hiding very little of her nakedness, was brought forth by guards. Her head had been shaved and she was skeletal thin. Her long nose hooked and her chin was pointed. Rotten fruit and vegetables were thrown at her. Children spat on her. A plump woman in the crowd screamed that the vile creature was causing her to itch uncontrollably.

“Burn her!” the crowd cried in agreement.

The condemned woman pursed her lips causing her filthy face to seem all the more despicable and spat back at those who were accusing her. The guards, both young boys in their teens, tied her to the stake. Fire wood was piled up to her waist.

She corrupted my poor boy!” The plump woman told those around her. Her screeching voice rose above the unrest.

Another woman reached her hand up and cried out, “She sacrificed my child to her blood magic!”

The prisoner let out a peal of wicked laughter, revealing she had several teeth missing from her rotting mouth.

“We really must get out of here! I don’t want Hannah to see this!” Helena protested to the driver.

The driver leaned back and replied. “If you can see somewhere for me to go girl, please be my guest and show me.”

An older man, in the same guard uniform but with golden medals on his chest and fine lace on his shoulders, addressed the crowd. He was someone of high importance judging by the respect and admiration he was shown. He had a thick brown beard. A tall and commanding general of the Navarian Guard. They hushed obediently when he held his hands up signalling that he wanted to speak. He was General Drenisov and had long served in Navaria’s battles. He was now acting as the Minister of Justice by order of Queen Annabelle.

“Rebekka Rarikova, you have been found guilty of witchcraft. The penalty is death by burning. Is there anything you wish to say before sentence is carried out?” asked Drenisov. The people became more impatient and more eager to shed blood. They were salivating in their lust like hounds ready to hunt. The snow was starting to fall again. The sky darkened into a deep inky blue.

A fiendish smile spread across Rebekka’s lips. “I curse you all!” she cried. “It is your children who will suffer!” she continued.

Drenisov shook his head in disapproval. “Rarikova, you are a whore. You are a heretic. You are a witch.” The crowd cheered in support of him.

“That wasn’t what you told me last night when you wanted to fuck me?” Rebekka replied. She showed no fear of death as it leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

Drenisov signalled to the boys to bring their flaming torches. “Hurry up and get it done,” he murmured to the young guards.

Hannah stirred from her slumber whining in pain and crying for Helena. Helena lifted the child, holding her close to her chest. She shielded her eyes and ears from the horror they were about to bear witness to.

“You’re all going to die! I curse you all!” Rebekka cried, her final cackle floated into the air like the smoke. The crowd gasped in horror. Mothers began pushing their children away. The wood surrounding Rebekka’s legs was lit. Flames of punishment erupted. The crowd began to sing as they watched the woman die. Rebekka screamed a high pitched shriek of fear and pain that echoed above their song. The flames licked her legs and lit her clothing. There were large gaps between the screams to allow for heavy coughs as the smoke filled her lungs. It was a long and painful wait for her skin to ignite and for Hell to finally consume her. The smell as Rebekka’s flesh burned was unbearable. It reminded Helena of a time her father had killed their pig and was roasting it for supper. Andrew had fallen asleep drunk and the pig flesh burned to an inedible crisp. Their cottage was thick with a sickly stench.

Hannah shook with fear listening to the screams, the chanting, the singing and the death croak as Rebekka became nothing but charred bones. Helena brought Hannah down into the cart beneath the blanket to soothe her until the crowd began to dispel and the horse had room to move again.

“What a horrid place!” Sofya commented. “What kind of barbarians would do such a thing?”

Helena lowered her voice to a whisper. Hannah had closed her eyes with the intention of falling asleep again. “Things are different here in town. We will just have to get used to it.”

“Get used to public murder?” Sofya gasped. The very idea was unimaginable.

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Red Snow graphic novel series will be coming soon.