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J Is For Jinxed: The A, B C's of Witchery (Moonbeam Chronicles Book 10) Carolina Mac Full Chapter PDF
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wore the garments that the men did, and there was nothing to show
what they were until one looked close and saw their little breasts and
narrow waists, for their faces were as wild and bold as any young
man’s.
The mother looked at every face, at this one and at that, and
suddenly she saw her own lad. Yes, there he walked, his head down,
and he was tied to a maid, and his hands fast to hers.
Then the mother rushed forward and fell at his feet and clasped
them and gave one loud cry, “My son!”
She looked up into his face, the palest face, his lips white and
earthen and the eyes dull. When he saw his mother he turned paler
still and would have fallen had he not been bound to the maid. For
this maid pulled at him and would not let him fall, nor would she let
him stay, and when she saw the old white-haired woman at his feet
she laughed aloud, the boldest, mirthless laugh and she cried out
high and shrill, “Comrade, remember now you have no mother and
no father, nor any dear to you except our common cause!” And she
pulled him on his way.
Then a guard ran out and picked the mother up and threw her to one
side upon the road and there she lay in the dust. Then the crowd
marched on and out of sight and to that southern gate, and suddenly
a wild song burst from them and they went singing to their death.
At last the two men came and would have lifted up the mother, but
she would not let them. She lay there in the dust a while, moaning
and listening in a daze to that strange song, yet knowing nothing,
only moaning on.
And yet she could not moan long either, for a guard came from the
gaol gate and prodded her most rudely with his gun and roared at
her, “Off with you, old hag—” and the two men grew afraid and
forced the mother to her feet and set her on the ass again and
turned homeward slowly. But before they reached the southern gate
they paused a while beside a wall and waited.
They waited until they heard a great roar go up, and then the two
men looked at each other and at the old mother. But if she heard it or
knew what it was, she made no sign. She sat drooping on the beast,
and staring into the dust beneath its feet.
Then they went on, having heard the cry, and they met the crowd
scattering and shouting this and that. The men said nothing nor did
the old mother seem to hear, but some cried out, “A very merry
death they died, too, and full of courage! Did you see that young bold
maid and how she was singing to the end and when her head rolled
off I swear she sang on a second, did she not?”
And some said, “Saw you that lad whose red blood spurted out so
far it poured upon the headsman’s foot and made him curse?”
And some were laughing and their faces red and some were pale,
and as the two men and the mother passed into the city gate, there
was a young man there whose face was white as clay and he turned
aside and leaned against the wall and vomited.
But if she saw or heard these things the mother said no word. No,
she knew the lad was dead now; dead, and no use silver or
anything; no use reproach, even if she could reprove. She longed
but for one place and it was to get to her home and search out that
old grave and weep there. It came across her heart most bitterly that
not even had she any grave of her own dead to weep upon as other
women had, and she must go and weep on some old unknown grave
to ease her heart. But even this pang passed and she only longed to
weep and ease herself.
When she was before their door again she came down from the ass
and she said pleading to her elder son, “Take me out behind the
hamlet—I must weep a while.”
The cousin’s wife was there and heard it and she said kindly,
shaking her old head and wiping her eyes on her sleeves, “Aye, let
the poor soul weep a while—it is the kindest thing—”
And so in silence the son led his mother to the grave and made a
smooth place in the grass for her to sit upon and pulled some other
grass and made it soft for her. She sat down then and leaned her
head upon the grave and looked at him haggardly and said, “Go
away and leave me for a while and let me weep.” And when he
hesitated she said again most passionately, “Leave me, for if I do not
weep then I must die!”
So he went away saying, “I will come soon to fetch you, mother,” for
he was loath to leave her there alone.
Then did the mother sit and watch the idle day grow bright. She
watched the sun come fresh and golden over all the land as though
no one had died that day. The fields were ripe with late harvest and
the grain was full and yellow in the leaf and the yellow sun poured
over all the fields. And all the time the mother sat and waited for her
sorrow to rise to tears in her and ease her broken heart. She thought
of all her life and all her dead and how little there had been of any
good to lay hold on in her years, and so her sorrow rose. She let it
rise, not angry any more, nor struggling, but letting sorrow come now
as it would and she took her measure full of it. She let herself be
crushed to the very earth and felt her sorrow fill her, accepting it. And
turning her face to the sky she cried in agony, “Is this atonement
now? Am I not punished well?”
And then her tears came gushing and she laid her old head upon the
grave and bent her face into the weeds and so she wept.
On and on she wept through that bright morning. She remembered
every little sorrow and every great one and how her man had
quarreled and gone and how there was no little maid to come and
call her home from weeping now and how her lad looked tied to that
wild maid and so she wept for all her life that day.
But even as she wept her son came running. Yes, he came running
over the sun-strewn land and as he ran he beckoned with his arm
and shouted something to her but she could not hear it quickly out of
all her maze of sorrow. She lifted up her face to hear and then she
heard him say, “Mother—mother—” and then she heard him cry, “My
son is come—your grandson, mother!”
Yes, she heard that cry of his as clear as any call she ever heard her
whole life long. Her tears ceased without her knowing it. She rose
and staggered and then went to meet him, crying, “When—when—”
“But now,” he shouted laughing. “This very moment born—a son—I
never saw a bigger babe and roaring like a lad born a year or two, I
swear!”
She laid her hand upon his arm and began to laugh a little, half
weeping, too. And leaning on him she hurried her old feet and forgot
herself.
Thus the two went to the house and into that room where the new
mother lay upon her bed. The room was full of women from the
hamlet who had come to hear the news and even that old gossip, the
oldest woman of them all now, and very deaf and bent nigh double
with her years, she must come too and when she saw the old mother
she cackled out, “A lucky woman you are, goodwife—I thought the
end of your luck was come, but here it is born again, son’s son, I
swear, and here be I with nothing but my old carcass for my pains—”
But the old mother said not one word and she saw no one. She went
into the room and to the bed and looked down. There the child lay, a
boy, and roaring as his father said he did, his mouth wide open, as
fair and stout a babe as any she had ever seen. She bent and seized
him in her arms and held him and felt him hot and strong against her
with new life.
She looked at him from head to foot and laughed and looked again,
and at last she searched about the room for the cousin’s wife and
there the woman was, a little grandchild or two clinging to her, who
had come to see the sight. Then when she found the face she
sought the old mother held the child for the other one to see and
forgetting all the roomful she cried aloud, laughing as she cried, her
eyes all swelled with her past weeping, “See, cousin! I doubt I was
so full of sin as once I thought I was, cousin—you see my grandson!”
THE
JOHN DAY
COMPANY
INC.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
The cover image for this eBook was created by the
transcriber and is entered into the public domain.
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