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Magic (part 59)

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magic

Our story began here.

More Trouble with Witches
Katrin felt nauseous as she looked upon her homeland. Timbre was not as she remembered it. Everywhere she could see smoke, palls of it rising in columns on every horizon. The roads too were not the firm clear affairs of memory; those had been used for fast moving travellers and merchants. Now the tracks and lanes of every village were chocked with refugees all fleeing north and east away from the war.

The news was that Motra Mundy had fallen some weeks before, but worse still there were exiles from every town Katrin had ever heard of. Some had determination in their eyes and had resolved to make for the capital Timon, but she could not help agreeing in her heart when an old cynic at the roadside had spat and murmured: “Timon will fall soon enough.”

It was enough to make her wish she hadn’t come. But if the world was to end she would be with Fear. But he was somewhere up ahead on the road to Timon and she despaired of catching him before the coming battle.

Earlier the ship had made landfall on a beach some miles south of Timon and Fear had set out as soon as the hull touched the beach. Amber and the other women had to contact Meredith’s coven and were to follow on. So in the event he had left before Katrin had been discovered in the hold and never suspected that she and Tabitha were stowaways.

“He’s gone,” Katrin wailed.

Meredith looked more bemused than angry but Amber sage had enough wrath for the both of them.

“Yes he had gone,” she said angrily, but she could see the despair of abandonment on Katrin’s face and could not find it in her to scold further.

Later the witches had gathered in a barn some miles from landfall where they had met the rest of the coven caparisoned for war.

The wind had got up and whistled through the old beams of the barn until they creaked and howled with a pain that echoed that of the land about them.

At one end the senior members of Meredith’s regained coven stood in a huddle while half a dozen or more others gathered around the walls and kept their own councils.

Katrin recognised some of them, Hemple, the shape-shifter Peel and the old warlock, Gas-something. She remembered them from her earlier encounter with the coven with Fear when they had tracked the Beast. But most of the others were unknown to her or were just faces she might have seen before. But Katrin adjudged them no great power on account of their exclusion from the knot of leaders conferring with Amber Sage. Or maybe the others were just indifferent.

The only ones not of the coven besides herself were Tabitha and Erin, both of whom stood where they had been bidden since the stowaways’ discovery in the ship’s hold. And for once Katrin decided that both girls’ looked decidedly nervous. Not that Katrin could care now. The fate of Timbre hung in the balance and Fear had gone.

The wind kicked up again, like some great demon without but desperate to get in. Katrin shuddered and thought of the beast. Suddenly without Fear she felt exposed and vulnerable. Did the Wolf know she was here? Did he care? Fear had been right, she should never have come.

At the far end of the barn Katrin saw Amber look at her and then at the other two. She well knew that face and unbidden to her mind came images of devil root and switches. Despite it all Katrin gulped and quickly looked away.

Amber fixed her eyes on the girl and frowned.

“It is as prophesied,” Demdike Runecaster muttered, “I saw it.”

“Yes and did you foresee me blistering their cherry red behinds for a year and a day?” Amber held her anger tightly under her breath.

“Katrin must be reunited with the Black One,” Demdike urged.

Amber shot an anxious glance at Meredith Greydove.

“She means Fear,” Meredith told Amber.

“I thought you had seen that Fear would kill Katrin,” Amber said in disgust.

“Not I,” Demdike said smoothly, “I merely counselled him to do it. But my sight was as then unclear.” The old seer seemed unabashed.

“Maybe you don’t see so clear now either,” Amber snapped back angrily.

Demdike shrugged.

“And what about the other two?” Amber continued under her breath, “I could murder that Erin. She knew they were there, she smuggled them the little witch.”

“Discipline must be maintained I suppose,” Meredith sighed, but she didn’t seem much given over to regret.

“That is meet, for we must have no dissent for what is to come,” Demdike croaked, “But the De Lacy girl must be sent on.”

“I agree, and anyway, I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes when Fear finds out she defied him,” Meredith replied.

The two elder witches looked at Amber who shot another glance at Katrin and then to the younger witches. Then with a sigh she nodded.

“Then all that remains is the other one,” Demdike said.

“Our old friend Draken, yes, can you see what he plans?” Meredith asked the seer.

“That path is clouded for now, but tomorrow I will again cast the runes and…” she shrugged, ignoring Amber’s snort of derision.

“We will be ready come what may and hope it is enough,” Meredith said in the grimmest of voices.

As if to underscore her words the wind set to howling again and the three witches shuddered. It was a night for demons and for long moments they fell silent like rabbits hiding from the fox.

After a few moments Amber spoke. “Well then, let’s send Katrin on her way and deal with…” she looked at Tabitha and Erin, “…those two. I trust there is no requirement that they can sit down for the battle.”

“I saw no horses in the runes,” Demdike cackled, “and in my experience a good witch works better with a fire in her behind.”

“Perhaps you should spank us all then mother,” Meredith said sourly.

Amber remembered her youth under Meredith’s tutelage and blushed. It had happened she remembered. But the crone Demdike only chuckled.

*
The wind had finally died down and the air had become still and almost oppressive. The night had even become a little warm, which was just as well given what was needful.

Perhaps it was the calm before the storm to end all storms, Amber thought as she looked up at the crystal black and star-speckled sky. It was as if the heavens had been splashed with buckets and buckets of precious gems until there was almost as much colour above as night. Now a million billion eyes looked down like gods holding their breath as the fate of mankind hung in the balance.

A bench had been set up outside the barn doors and Amber had arrayed it with all manner of herbs and branch cuttings until it looked like green grocer’s stall in the market. Most of the fare was for the preparation of medicine, which would be needed later in the coming battles, but some of it had more immediate uses.

Amber looked back at the two young women secured in the pillory set in the middle of the barn. Both were naked and looking very sorry for themselves and dreading what Amber may be preparing for them.

“Come on, this isn’t funny,” Erin Stone wailed.

Tabitha had been spanked often enough now to keep her mouth shut. She was certain that this was going to get very much worse before it got better. Although quite how it could be worse than being bent over at the hips in a pillory she was not sure.

For one thing she hadn’t liked the look of the bundles of twigs on the end of the table. Some of them looked thick enough to use as canes and would certainly make decent switches in their own right. Still others, being slightly thinner, put Tabitha in mind of the makings for a stout birch rod.

Then there was the mortar and pestle that Amber was fussing with. The elder witch had her back turned and it was too dark to see colours beyond the barn, but Tabitha thought she saw some devil root. She felt decided queasy and a tickle of sweat ran down her spine to lose itself in the cleft of her bottom.

Nor was this the only cause of warm dampness and the young witch felt her bud harden in expectation. Down girl she thought, you don’t want this, really you don’t. But the warmth continued to grow and through her mind ran images of Meredith’s firm thighs firm beneath her tummy and a sharp hand on her bottom.

“Hey let me out of this contraption,” Erin wailed again, but no one paid her any mind.

From her position behind the two women Meredith had a good view of their bare bottoms. Not bad, she thought, but decided she ought not to enjoy the show too much. Nevertheless she could not help but make comparisons between the two girls. Oh thy hypocrisy is boundless, ran a mantra through her mind.

Whether conscious or not, Tabitha had kept her legs straight and her back dipped so that her small high-set bottom was well presented. Erin on the other hand was trying and failing to make her slightly larger round bottom less obvious by tucking in at the knees. Although this did not push her bottom up so much, it did thrust it obscenely back so as to make an inviting target.

Meredith shifted slightly on the milking stool she had found and adjusted her thighs. These were Amber’s students not her coven mates, she had no requirement to assist. She licked her lips, but maybe with two of them to deal with Amber might… she didn’t follow the thought. It was unprofessional and tomorrow her coven might go into battle. My mind should be on higher things.

*

Two kings stood side-by-side and looked out into the night. Neither of them spoke, but on this evening they were as brothers. Behind them in the distance was the city of Timon, its curved high walls silver white against the night sky, vast and splendid like some great crown on the land.

Then there over to the east it was just possible to see the mountains as dark on darker; a break in the star-dashed sky like tears on a black paper star chart.

But it was the south that held their attention, although as yet there was no sign of the enemy and one might have supposed that the land was at peace. But all day riders had come and gone with news. The Western Host was on the move and would arrive within three days.

King John towered over his fellow royal, who himself was by no means a short man. But next to the more stolid Peron, John had a slim gaunt look and was older by nearly a decade, a happenstance that had until now had led him to cede leadership of the war to Maelon. He pursed his lips and look back at his capital. In a week would those walls be black like the sky?

Beside him King Peron sighed. John looked down to meet the King of Precips’s eyes as if sizing him up. At least the man found the strength to smile and after a pause and with a great effort the dour John smiled back.

“A beautiful night,” Peron sighed.

John looked up again as if seeing the sky anew. “Yes,” he said with an appreciative nod. But both were stalling for time and they knew it.

Earlier it had been decided not to accept siege and to meet the western army head on. Many had counselled against it, even Dr Fear and Gort. But this time reinforcements from the fleet and Precips itself had swelled their ranks and they had some weight in numbers. They might yet meet the foe on something like equal terms.

In any case a siege was certain death for them. There were no more allied armies to come, no more wizards who were not already present and Dniester had assured them he knew of no more dragons this time.

“In any case,” Gort the High Hand had told them earlier, “No dragon can stand against the Wolf.”

Dniester had nodded as had Dr Fear.

“We were lucky at Precips, the foe had little magic to counter my friend,” Dniester said quietly. In his heart he still saw the dead laid waste by his will and for the first time in his long, long life he felt old.

Now King John looked over at the line of mages watching the two kings patiently. They had the look of crows in the night sizing up carrion. But it was an unworthy thought, John Armarlon berated himself. They were not crows but hawks come to defend his lands. He looked back at them and smiled. But try as he might, still he saw only feeble crows. Then with a sigh he spoke.

“Come cousin,” he said to Peron, “Let’s have a council of war. We have a battle to win.”

*

Amber had asked Peel, Demdike’s young daughter, to apply cotton oil to the naked witches’ bottoms. Amber had chosen young Peel because having a girl of their own age touching them so would humble them more.  Also from the scowl on Peel’s face throughout the proceedings, she judged that the Runecaster girl had no prurient interest in the shaming.

Not that a prurient interest was bothersome, but cotton oil was a soft sensuous commodity to tenderise and yet toughen the skin. Amber didn’t want to appeal to Erin and Tabitha’s sensitive erotica natures at this time; it would detract from the punishment. But she had judged her girl right and Peel went at her task as if she were rubbing down a horse, drawing gasps and squeals from the two miscreant witches. Then Amber put the last touches to the fire baste for afterwards and set about trimming the devil root for the final part of the punishment.

“Isn’t that going too far?” Hemple whispered at her shoulder.

Hemple was a young witch, little more than a girl herself. She had wild orange hair that hung to a heavy fringe to where dancing green eyes regarded the punitive preparations in awe.

Meredith, Gasgook, the coven’s warlock, and Demdike had spanked her often and sometimes she had been sent to cut switches, but never had she been seared with devil root or other such things.

“Disobedience this close to the time of peril must be quelled,” Meredith assured her.

Her leader too had come close now to watch the arrangements unfold.

“But Demdike said…” Hemple licked her full lips and blinked hard in wonder as she imagined the trials to come.

“It was foretold yes, but that does not mean we are only actors on a stage and all must take responsibility for their choices,” Meredith sighed.

“But…” Hemple began.

“Erin and Tabitha knew what they risked,” Amber said sharply, “Maybe they hoped to slip away to battle before we found out, but they knew.”

Hemple looked as if she might speak again but Meredith warned her with her eyes and the young witch lightly massaged her rear in trepidation.

“Now Meredith, I mean to have them both soundly birched, but can you warm them first? A sound spanking will sting them nicely on their oiled behinds,” Amber suggested.

“My pl… duty,” Meredith said archly.

Amber cast the elder witch a glance and smirked. At least Meredith had the good grace to blush before taking a heavy spatula from the bench. Then with a wry smile she crossed the barn to confront the twin targets. Only once she stood behind Tabitha and Erin did she became stern.

“Stop wriggling,” she said, “and stand up straight, well as straight as you can. I want to see those bottoms.”

Tabitha obeyed at once. It was almost as if she was eager, but Meredith just put it down to her training. Erin on the other hand, bucked her knees even more and had to be told two or three times before she was cajoled into swallowing her pride and abandoning all dignity to stick her bottom out.

“Lovely,” Meredith said sweetly and then let fly with the improvised paddle.

Tabitha squealed, but then managed to stay silent as the spanking continued.

“It is so not fair,” Erin complained.

Her face burned with shame from sticking her bum out like music hall act and she felt like spitting frogs.

Meredith smirked at Erin’s reluctant obedience; it put her in mind of a hound in the slips or a young Amber Sage oh so many years ago. But her main attention was on Tabitha’s pert red oiled bottom as it shone like a ruby in the torch light. Spanking it was a joy.

The witch kept to her task for a few minutes before changing targets to take in Erin.

“Ow, you…” Erin yelped angrily.

So much bottom, so little time, Meredith mused.

But Amber was in no hurry and Meredith was able to spank Erin at length until her attitude was very much reined in and tiny tears bubbled in her eyes. Meredith even had time to switch back to Tabitha for a few long minutes before finishing up spanking Erin again. After two rounds of spanking both witches had glossy red bottoms submissively angled back at her in the firelight.

Amber gave her a quizzical look and Meredith realised that she was at liberty to go round again. She should, she knew, they deserved it, but restraint was a virtue.

“I give you two birds, basted and prepared for the cooking,” she beamed.

Amber affected nonchalance and rolled her eyes up at the quip. But she couldn’t help allowing herself a small smile.

*

Gasgook was an old man with wizened white hair that merged with his beard to frame his entire head. The effect was all the more startling as he had no moustache to soften the look. It had been he who had been called upon to discipline the two girls and he took to the task as one who had been put upon and with none of the glee that Meredith had harboured. With one birch rod in his hand and at his feet was a bucket holding three more, he sternly contemplated the two well-presented cherry red bare bottoms.

If could have seen their faces he would see that Tabitha was resigned and focussed. Her eyes a little curious as she wriggled her bottom in the still air of the barn.

Erin, on the other hand, looked pensive and nervous, her eyes scanning back and forth as if she wished she could see behind her. All defiance was gone now and she gulped.

Gasgook waited. The smaller bottom on the left was ready and obviously expected to be first. The other flexed its glutes and bulged back at him as if it might flee. But there was no harm in being obvious, he thought.

The brand of thick twigs swiped across Tabitha’s bare bottom with all the burn of a torch and she gasped. A million little bees tingled and sang in her hinds and each one competed for her soul. The next stroke was worse.

“Nyah,” she grunted and began to duck her head out front, gaping like a fish for some air.

Erin looked sideways in horror at her friend’s face and wished she had never seen a ship.

“Omigosh,” Tabitha shrieked at the next blast of rod.

The pain and relentless assault did not get any better.

Erin tested the frame that held her and then shot a glance at Amber. Okay, I’m sorry, you have had your fun now let me go, she wanted to say, but she was witch enough to know she was in for it.

Tabitha could take it, Erin knew that, this was just another walk in the park for her. My bottom is not like hers, she quailed inwardly. But it seemed from her response, Tabitha couldn’t take it. And if she couldn’t… spanked, I knew I would be spanked, not this, Erin cursed.

Then Tabitha began to shriek and didn’t stop until it was Erin’s turn.

“Please Amber,” Erin sobbed after just three strokes, “I’ll be a good girl.”

And for the first time in her young life she meant it.

*

Both girls had taken two dozen strokes now and there was not a tear between which was the most miserable. They were both crying hard and both had a vivid bubble-rash all over their bottoms. In fact they both looked so raw it was a wonder they didn’t bleed.

“Listen up girls,” Meredith said sharply. “This is military grade discipline; we are no longer playing games. Mark these bottoms well…”

There were nervous giggles at Meredith’s unintended pun and she growled in frustration.

“This is serious,” she shouted and the barn fell silent.

Then she nodded at Gasgook and he took up the next rod.

“Please, please, please, please,” Tabitha muttered at the sound of the scrape at the bucket.

But between her legs, soggy little pussy perked up. You sick little kitten, she chided herself, you deserve this. Then she howled like a banshee while little pussy purred. She hated this, hated it, but like puss she love hating it so much.

“Now come on,” Erin spluttered through her tears, “No more, please, I have learned my lesson really I have.”

Next to her Tabitha rocked and yelled in the pillory, announcing to the world that she had had enough while Erin knew her turn was yet to come.

*
The ooze that Amber applied to Erin’s bottom was like soothing balm at first. She had guessed as much from Tabitha’s cooing next to her. But it was too good to last. By the time the devil root was inserted into the rosebud between her cheeks the drying gunk had already begun to burn.

“Not the root, please,” Erin whimpered.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it out after an hour or two,” Amber said, “Just as soon as you tell us what you did wrong and why you were such a naughty girl.”

Then root and paste sang a discordant harmony in both bottoms and after much gasping and groaning, both girls joined the chorus.

“I won’t smuggle anything anywhere ever,” Hemple whispered earnestly.

“Nor me,” Peel agreed.

Both girls’ eyes were out on stalks, and prayed to the gods in thanks that Amber wasn’t in their coven.

To be continued.



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