The Green Witch and the Red Lion – Chapter 1

1

Spring 1538

“Stay close to me, Agnes; these woods can be treacherous to people who’ve never been here before.”

“Aye, daddy.”

The eight-year-old girl was moving cautiously through the dense forest, following her father’s steps. It was a fine, warm, and sunny day. That same morning, to Agnes’ delight, her father decided she was to start her training as a healer to follow the family’s legacy. First and foremost, she had to learn the various plant essences needed to prepare the potions and powders he used to heal his patients. And so began the first day of her apprenticeship; in the lush forest surrounding the Yester estate, southeast of Gifford.

“Agnes, come here, lassie.”

“Aye, daddy.”

“All right. Let’s find out what you’ve already learned from my teachings at home. We’ll start with something simple today. Do you recognise this?” he asked, pointing to long tall shrubs with bright green leaves.

“That’s deanntag!” she answered proudly.

“Very good. In Latin, it is known as Urtica dioica. Remembering Latin names is essential in our art if you want to be a prominent herbalist and healer. And it helps to make a good impression on ordinary people and the gentry. We are the Bothwicks, an established lineage of Master Healers. It comes with reputation and status.”

“Aye!”

“What should you be aware of when collecting them?”

“They sting and burn. So, make sure you don’t touch them directly.”

“Exactly. Although, getting stung is not such a bad thing, as it protects you from faery mischief. Now, what if you get pricked?”

“You rub the sting with this!” She showed to a smaller plant with larger leaves. “Copag! Or Rumex obtusifolius. You rub it with the leaf to calm the fire.”

“I’m impressed! Someone did pay attention to my teaching, indeed.”

She smiled at him with pride.

“So, how should deanntag be prepared and used?”

“First, let the plant wither so it doesn’t sting anymore. Then it can be used as a tea to reduce fever or to ease pain and urinary disturbances. Mixed with beaten egg white, it helps to sleep, while with porridge, it purifies the blood and helps with indigestion. Finally, when used in a poultice, it stops bleeding.”

“Excellent, child! Gee! We shall transform you into a Master Healer in no time. Come here and give me a hug.”

William Borthwick took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly upon her forehead. He looked at his young daughter’s fair face, sprinkled with freckles. It was still round, but he could see the first signs of the woman she was about to become in a few years. Her deep green eyes reminded him of his late wife, taken too early by a nasty fever, two years after Agnes’ birth. While her long bright red hair cascading down her shoulders, like a flow of lava, was inherited from his side. The ‘Borthwick’s mark’, an uncommon feature in a region where most people had dark or brown hair. The “witch mark,” others would say. But this was mostly heard by people envious of their hereditary proficiency in healing. You’ll be a beautiful witch, my lassie, he thought, and I’m sure you’ll bewitch many heads in the years to come…

“All right, let’s move on. Your task for today is gathering as many deanntag shoots as possible. It’s a bit late in the year, but they still haven’t started to bloom yet. So, we should be good. Use your pladd to store them and, as you remembered well, try not to sting your hands as much as possible. Anyway, at worst, there’s enough copag growing around to soothe any sting…”

“Father?”

Her eyes were staring at a tall fortified tower emerging from a cluster of trees on top of a hill in the distance.

“Aye?”

“What’s this castle other there?”

“That’s Yester Castle, child, the ancestral home of the Hay of Yester family. Lord John, the present owner, is a benevolent patron who has kindly given me access to his lands for my gatherings.”

“It looks quite scary from here.”

“That, lassie, is because, three centuries ago, it was built by Sir Hugh de Giffard the Younger. The man was a powerful necromancer, capable of summoning an army of hobgoblins to do his deed. Folks say the fortress has never been captured since.”

“Is… is the necromancer dead?”

“He’s long gone. But locals say that his cursed soul still haunts the forest, cursed to roam this land forever, and forbidden from entering Hell, as even the Devil himself fears his power…” His voice died out in a murmur into his daughter’s ear.

Agnes looked fearfully at the forest and the building in the distance, scrutinising each shadow. Her father burst into laughter.

“Come on, lassie! These are old wives’ tales to scare little children like you. And even though there was some truth, we’re in the middle of the day. Spirits only show up at night, as you know. Come on now, let’s start gathering. I’ll be up there, not far. I must find special herbs for a recent order. We’ll study them tonight when we get home. Just be careful on the slopes; they can be tricky. And call for me if anything.”

He left her alone. She opened her plead and carefully started to collect the precious shoots with her right hand covered with a cloth while holding the large piece of woven wool with her left one. After a while, her mind wandered to the thick canopy above, which was braking in some places, allowing patches of sun to pass through, and creating magical circles of light on the forest bed where thin particles of pollen were gently snowing, glittering like faery dust. Insects buzzed frantically from one flower to another while small birds beat and sang cheerfully. Further down the hill, she could hear the enchanting sound of a stream flowing merrily. The glamorous vision made it hard to believe a diabolical being could roam it. Her father was right, old wives’ tales.

“Ouch!”

A burning pain stroked her hand. Lost in her thoughts, she had accidentally touched the thickest portion of a nettle stalk. The thorns there were more painful than those on the tender leaves. She carefully put her plead on the side and began looking for some dock leaves to ease the pain. Fortunately, both plants had the odd habit of growing side by side, and she quickly found one. She picked up three leaves and started to rub them on the red and painful patch forming on her skin, as her father had shown her so many times. After a few seconds, Agnes started to feel the relief of this ancient cure and mocked her silliness. She stopped at the sound of rustling leaves coming from behind. She turned her head and froze instantly. Standing right in front of her was a tall, bulky figure, all dressed in black and wrapped in a large dark hooded cloak. Agnes kept staring at its face, a frightening vision of horror emerging from the shadow of its hood. Its skin was pale like the dead, with a few dark patches on its forehead and cheekbones, cut off by fragile lips. A large scar ran along its left side, only interrupted in its centre by a white and murky eye. The daunting creature was examining her, silent, motionless, like a spectre just released from Hell. The necromancer! she immediately thought. Its mouth started to move mechanically. Still looking straight into her eyes, emotionless, a tenebrous voice asked her, “Where is your father, child?” He’s looking for dad!‘ she thought before she started panicking. He’s here to claim his soul for his army of hobgoblins. I must warn him! She took a deep breath to regain control of her body and slowly backed away, maintaining eye contact and ready to run. But after a few steps, her right foot knocked a large branch, and she fell to the ground. As the spectre moved in her direction, she started to scream hysterically.

“Agnes! Agnes! Stay where you are; I’m coming!” William shouted back.

An instant later, her father arrived, running through the bushes, holding a small dagger and ready to strike at any danger. He discovered his daughter lying on the forest bed at the feet of the statuesque apparition, which remained motionless. He recognised it immediately.

“Robert?”

He took Agnes in his arms. She was shivering and sobbing, babbling, “The necromancer, the necromancer, he came to take you away!”

“It’s all right, lassie, calm down. Don’t fear the man; it’s only Robert, Lord Hay’s closest companion. My apologies, Robert; my daughter has never had the pleasure of meeting you before, and you know how intimidating you can be.”

“There is no need for an apology, Master William. I’m more than familiar with people being scared of me. Some even call me the Devil’s Shadow. It’s God’s chastisement for all the bad deeds I’ve done in my younger years. I never meant any harm.”

Decades before, Robert was a mercenary, and an exceedingly renowned one. He was hired by John Haye, the second Lord of Yester, to fight at his side at the Battle of Flodden. He valiantly engaged the English enemy during the assault. Still, he was eventually severely wounded during the retreat of the Scottish troops while saving the son of his master from the same fate encountered by the father alongside King James IV. To honour his bravery and devotion, the new Lord of Yester offered him to remain in his service after a much younger William had successfully tended his wounds. But the soldier was, sadly, left irreversibly and gravely disfigured.

“No harm done.” The healer put his little girl down. “What brings you here, Robert?”

“I have sought you all morning, Master William. I went to your farm in Humbie, where your son told me that you were wandering around this area. My master asks you to come to the castle immediately. Young master William, his grandson, had been feverish for two days, and their lordships began to worry.”

“I’ll get my horse. Agnes, pick up your pladd. We’ll leave at once.”

***

Half an hour later, they reached the imposing fortress. Its commanding dungeon rose high up towards the sky, surrounded by large fierce walls built with impeccably carved dark stones. It was erected on a strategic position, hard to reach, even on foot, in a way any army would think twice before attempting to besiege it. Agnes looked at the ominous structure, fascinated and frightened. Only dark magic can build something like that, she thought, before crossing herself. They entered through the large vaulted door into the central courtyard. There, the picture was less austere. A small garden with blooming roses stood on one side, climbing along the main tower. On the opposite side were a kitchen, a small stable, a forge and various living quarters for soldiers and servants occupied with their tasks. The keep, however, looked even more daunting than outside. It overlooked the entire place from its height, like a terrible dark giant ready to crush any intruder foolish enough to confront him. Despite this eclectic atmosphere, the people around looked happy and worked enthusiastically, without fear or pressure.

Her father took her out of his horse and, accompanied by Robert, headed towards the massive tower. At the same time, the wooden door on the first level, on the top of the staircase, opened, and a man in his fifties, wearing plain gentry clothes, rushed to them. It was John Hay, third Lord of Yester.

“Holy Mother of God!” he said with a cracking voice, “Master Borthwick, you are here! I am so glad Robert finally found you. We were getting so worried.”

“Your Lordship may rely on my help whenever he needs it,” replied William with reverence.

The old man hugged him.

“Thank you, thank you for coming so quickly.”

He turned to his trusty servant.

“And you, Robert, thank you for locating our valuable healer in such a short time. I am indebted to you, as usual,”

“Serving you is my only reward, your lordship,” replied the colossus.

“But who do we have here? Who is this charming young lady accompanying you, William?”

“This is my daughter Agnes, your lordship. I began training her as a healer today. And she’s very promising. I have high hopes about her abilities.”

“With a father like you, I have no doubt she is destined to achieve wonders.”

“Come on, lassie. What are you waiting for?”

Agnes gave the older man a clumsy curtsy.

“Your… Lordship…” she said faintly.

“I’m afraid my daughter had a bit of a fright after her first encounter with Robert, Lord Hay, and is still a little shaken.”

“The poor child. Unfortunately, our Robert rarely makes a good first impression, whereas occasionally, it may be very convenient. But he is a kind man with a noble heart. You have nothing to fear from him, young lady. And to allay your worries, I will get a cook to bring you some cookies to comfort you.”

“Thank you, your lordship,” replied Agnes before offering another curtsy.”

“But enough with the civilities. Master Borthwick, your skills are desperately required. My grandson, born three months ago, has had a bad fever and an ugly cough for two days, affecting his sleep. We seem to be at a loss for options. You are my last hope. But before we head upstairs, I need to give you a little warning. My son is away in Edinburgh, on the King’s command, and there is only my daughter-in-law Margaret and my wife Elizabeth with me. My son’s wife, who is of a delicate emotional condition, spent the night in tears, claiming one of her servants saw death lurking in the woods. You know what an impressionable woman she can be. And, since this morning, spends her time in prayer, begging God to save her son. Meanwhile, Lady Yester, who, as you know, was born a Douglas, and whose family, I am afraid, has not taken the time to teach her the tact and sensitivity necessary to deal diplomatically with this type of situation, festers her with constant admonitions. So, I would say it is a little heated up there…”

“Do not worry, your lordship. I am familiar with the disposition of Lady Elizabeth. I will handle it just fine.”

They all went to the second floor and then to the chamber where William found the infant lying in his cradle. Lady Yester stood close by, looking with exasperation at her sobbing daughter-in-law reading her prayer book.

“For God’s sake, Margaret! Stop whining and be the woman you are supposed to be!”

“How can you be… so callous, Mother? My son… your grandson… is dying. And all you find to do… is reprimand me. You are… you are a cruel woman! I wish John were here…”

“Come on, this is just a benign fever, common among infants of this age. It will pass soon. And, anyway, children die, Margaret! I lost two of mine and several of my siblings. Do you see me spending my days mourning them? Get over it! No matter how bad it gets, you are still young. You will have many more.”

As expected, after hearing these words of ‘comfort’, Lady Margaret continued to weep, even more, making Lady Elizabeth raise her eyes to the sky.

“Jesus…”

While Lord Yester and Robert decided it was best to remain behind him, William, standing by the door, cleared his throat. Upon noticing him, Lady Yester made her way to the healer with a big smile.

“Ah! Master Borthwick! You finally made it. I believe my daughter-in-law needs your attention more than my grandson’s childhood fever. I am sure you brought along one of your wonderful potions to calm her nerves.”

“Well, your ladyship, I think I shall begin by examining the child. If only to reassure the mother, with your permission.”

“Indeed, indeed. Please proceed, Master Borthwick.”

William approached the cradle and carefully inspected the baby, touching his head, hearing his pulse and the intensity of his cough.

“Well, I would agree with Your Ladyship. It shows every sign of a mild child fever…”

“Ah!”

“…but that doesn’t mean we should allow it to go on too long. I will prepare a few remedies to improve young William’s condition.”

Lady Margaret rushed to him.

“May the Lord be praised, Maître Borthwick! Can you save my child’s life?”

“Rest assured, his life is in no danger, Lady Margaret. But I do not have with me all the ingredients I require.” He looked at his daughter. “Agnes, I need you to go and fetch my box. The green one. Do you know which one I mean?”

“Aye, father.”

“So, go on, we have no time to waste! While we await your return, I will make a few adjustments in this room.”

“Robert,” Lord Yester suddenly called, “use our best horse and take the girl with you. This will buy us more time. And we want to avoid the risk of her getting lost in the woods or worse.

“At once, my Lord. Please come with me, child.”

***

About an hour later, Agnes quickly approached the fortress, tightly holding Robert’s waist, the precious box firmly attached around hers. They finally reached the yard and swiftly made their way to the second floor of the keep. They found William, aided by a servant, hanging nettle bouquets at specific locations in the room.

“Is all that really necessary, Master Borthwick?” was asking Lord Yester.

“Deanntag protects from evil spirits, your Lordship. Given this castle’s past, that’s no small precaution. And you know how fond faeries are of babies…”

“Here’s your box, father.”

“Ah, Agnes! Just in time. Well-done lass. Can someone bring me some hot water?”

He opened the box and took out several ingredients, placing them on a nearby table. He then mixed them up before putting the mixtures into two different pouches. Lady Elizabeth observed him closely, indulging in her curiosity.

“Are you going to use Wolf’s Bane, Master Borthwick? They say it’s radical when it comes to fever.”

“I won’t recommend it, Your Ladyship, unless you wish your grandson to meet our Lord in Heaven within the hour. A child of this age would never survive, not to the slightest extent…”

“You are not only cruel, but also maleficent!” interrupted her daughter-in-law.

“Margaret, if I wanted your opinion on my affairs, I would ask you. Just concentrate on your prayers; you appear to excel in them.”

“If I may, Lady Elizabeth…”

“My apologies for the interruption, Master Borthwick. Please, carry on.”

“As I was about to say, I shall first use Cù Culainn’s Belt tea for the fever. It is far less powerful yet just as effective. One teaspoon of the contents of this pouch, diluted into one cup of warm water every five hours. You should have enough for five days; by that time, the temperature should have disappeared. Also,” he added, giving her the other pouch, “prepare a càl deanntag with this for the cough. It will strengthen the child’s blood. Be sure to use very soft porridge to facilitate digestion. Do this for one week.”

“I will abide by your instructions. Are you making notes, Margaret?”

“Yes, Mother…”

“One last thing,” William said. From his box, he took out a small wreath made of different twigs and flowers and tied it around the baby’s neck before gently starting to say a prayer:

“All kinds of ill that ever may be, in Christ’s name I conjure thee,

I conjure the baith mare and lesse, with all the virtues of the mass,

And right sa with the nails sa, that nailed Jesus and na ma,

And right sa by the samen bluid that raiked our the truthful ruid,

Furth of the flech and of the bane, and in the eird and the stame,

I conjure thee in God’s name.”

“That will keep any evil spirit away from the child. I recommend that he wear it until he reaches his first year. And lastly,” he showed a small vial, “this is for Lady Margaret. Dissolve a pinch in a cup of warm water just before bedtime. It should help her sleep. All right, my work is done. I’ll be back in five days to ensure everything is fine. You should see some improvement by tomorrow morning.”

Once outside, Lord Hay vigorously shook William’s hand.

“My deepest thanks, Master Borthwick, for your reassuring words and invaluable help. We are grateful for everything you have done for us today.” Then, he looked at Agnes. “And thank you too, young lady. I believe your first day as an apprentice was quite instructive and eventful.”

“It was, indeed, your Lordship. Thank you,” she answered with a big smile.

“Then let us make the day even more memorable. Please, Master William, permit me to give this little token of gratitude to your young helper.”

He presented Agnes with a small leather pouch. Inside, she found a golden brooch shaped like a butterwort flower. The little girl formed a silent “O” with her mouth in surprise.

“My Lord! This is too much! We cannot, respectfully, accept such a precious gift,” said her father.

“Master William, I beg you, let us not end this day in misunderstanding after so many years of good friendship. My wife and I are grateful for your assistance today, and for the many times you have come to offer your services. And we both insist.”

“I meant no offence, my Lord. I am grateful for your generosity. Agnes?”

“Thank you, my Lord!” she answered with sparks in her eyes. “I will treasure it as long as I live!” She threw herself into Lord Hay’s arms and hugged him.

“Agnes!”

“It is all right, Master William. Just take it in good faith, young Agnes. May it protect you from all despite and the ungiven sorrow of love. Though, if I may, I shall ask you for a small gift in exchange.”

“Anything you desire!”

“Ha, ha, ha! Children’s innocence. Make sure, young lady, to turn your tongue seven times in your mouth in the future before giving such an answer. Some people could take advantage of it. But personally, the only thing I require of you is a lock of your beautiful red hair.”

“I shall gladly give it!” She then pulled out a small pocket knife from one of her pockets and cut a generous strand of her sumptuous mane. “There you are, my Lord, graciously offered.”

“I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Mistress Agnes.” The old man moved his right hand into his coat and took out an oval silver locket. He opened it and delicately placed the hair tuft inside before closing it and putting the chain around his neck. I will keep your gift close to my heart as a memorial to this wonderful day. Like your brooch, I am sure it will bring me luck and protection. And when I’m gone, my descendants will continue to wear it. Thank you. Very well. Robert, escort Master Borthwick and his daughter to their home in Humbie. It will soon be dark, and the roads are not always safe during these hours.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Spend the night with us, Robert,” William continued. “I’m sure His Lordship won’t mind sparing you till morning, so you don’t have to travel back in the middle of the night.”

“Of course not!” approved Lord Yester.

After putting her brooch safely into her father’s bag, Agnes approached the man who had scared her a few hours earlier.

“Can I ride with you one more time, Master Robert?”

“It shall be my pleasure, Mistress Agnes.”