Winds Requium

She raised her arms and pointed up into the sky; then she began to chant. At first it was hardly more than a sing-song under her breath, but as she began to spin, her voice grew steadily louder.

There had been a wind blowing from the southeast filling the ship’s sails, but now that stopped very suddenly. I watched the sails become limp.

Was that what Alice Deane was trying to accomplish? To use her magic to becalm the ship and prevent it from sailing for Ireland? If so, how long could she hope to maintain such a situation?

‘What are you trying to do, Alice?’ I demanded. There had to be a better way of dealing with our enemies.

But Alice did not reply; she looked rapt, deep in a magical trance, gathering her power.

I need not have concerned myself because, within seconds, everything changed dramatically. The wind sprang up again, but this time from a different direction – from the west, from the sea, driving straight into our faces. It lifted clouds of sand up off the beach and drove spray towards me, stinging my face – which I covered with my hands, peering through my fingers.

I saw the witches and the kretch turn away and cower down on the sands with their backs to the waves; they were much closer to the sea, and the salt spray would be burning them. Salt water is deadly to witches, and those on board the ship would be wearing protective hoods and gloves – maybe knitted face-masks too – and cowering down in the hold. Despite the frantic efforts of the crew, the ship was now turning in the water. Faster and faster she came about, and the surging waves began to move her towards the shore.

Alice was still chanting and spinning, her voice almost lost in the shrill shrieks of the wind. Dark clouds raced in from the sea and the gale drove the ship before it relentlessly. There was no way the crew could turn her round. Soon she would run aground.

B9 C22