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It was spring. Nature was in the process of throwing off the cloak of winter and reaching out to the first invigorating rays of spring sunshine. The trees were still quite bare, only the buds adorned their branches. On the ground, the meadows were dotted with crocuses and other early bloomers and the first small rodents were awakening from their hibernation. The air was still clear and cold, but it already felt like life and the smell of awakening was in it.

Her family had built the little house here generations ago. They had chosen this location because it gave them direct access to everything they needed. The lush meadows that stretched out in front of the house offered all sorts of opportunities for growing crops and the forest behind the house provided a rich supply of produce to compliment the treasures from the garden. The nearby stream provided fresh, running water. Unlike in the nearby villages where everyone was crammed together and there was almost no air, especially in winter, here they were unhindered and could spread out. Nevertheless, they were still close enough to the small settlements to visit the markets and buy what they didn't have themselves and offer what they had in abundance in return.

It had worked wonderfully over the years. The people in the villages were always happy when they came to the market and offered their herbs or mushrooms and other small specialties that they could not produce themselves. A proven symbiosis had developed and had been nurtured over many years. Each new generation took over where the old one had left off and continued the relationship.

She stood in her kitchen and chopped up herbs to make a tincture together with a few other ingredients, which was always bought by the people in the village in spring, as it had an anti-inflammatory effect and in spring there were many small injuries that quickly became inflamed and then required much more serious measures. She hummed happily to herself and occasionally looked out of the window to watch her son playing in the meadow. He was her angel, her everything. It had not been easy to accompany him through the first years of his life. The winters were hard out here. But they had made it and now he was big and strong enough. Out of the woods, as they said.

She smiled and concentrated on her work again. The herbs had to be cut very finely. She used a small but very sharp knife. She didn't want to crush the fine leaves and stems, she wanted to cut them. She had already learned this from her grandmother and later refined her technique with her mother. She was still not as fast as her mother had been in her prime. She would need a few more years of practice and experience. But that wasn't a bad thing. If there was one thing they had out here, it was time.

She heard her husband's heavy footsteps as he brought the heavy basket of bottles up from the cellar. She was glad he was there. He wasn't much help in the kitchen, his hands weren't skilled enough for that. He had other qualities. And anyway, as her mother and grandmother had already taught her: men have no place in the herb kitchen. Their minds are too raw for this work. She had never believed them until she met her husband. He was a loving man, and he read her every wish from her eyes, but he was clumsy and impatient. She had tried to show him how to pick the herbs, but his clumsy hands couldn't handle the delicate plants. She had tried a few other things but gave up in the end. He took on other tasks and she had the herb kitchen to herself, as it had been intended from the beginning.

He carefully placed the heavy basket on one of the large tables and approached her from behind. His big, strong arms wrapped themselves tenderly around her and his hands rested on her stomach. He kissed her neck gently and whispered.

“What do you think about giving our son a sibling? I know you'd like a daughter to pass on your legacy.”

He murmured and underlined his statement with another kiss. His hands stroked her belly tenderly. She leaned her head against his and enjoyed the contact with him.

“Hmmm I wouldn't be averse to trying it. But not now. If we try now, she'd be born in the middle of winter, that wouldn't be good. Let's wait a bit.”

She replied and pulled his arms tighter around her.

“But there's nothing wrong with having a little fun together.”

She added in a meaningful tone. His rough laugh, which she loved so much about him, filled the room and he pressed her a little tighter against him.

“Hmmm I'm completely satisfied with that. Later my angel.”

He said softly and kissed her again before letting go. She smiled and continued to cut the herbs while he placed the bottles on the table. The soothing sound of chopping and the soft clink of glass was all that could be heard. When he was finished, he took the basket back and looked over at her.

“Is there anything else you need?”

She thought, but decided she had everything she needed for the moment.

“No, I should have everything.”

She replied calmly and intently as she cut up the rest of the bundle of herbs.

“Good, I'll go to the forest and get some more wood.”

He said and placed the basket by the exit to the cellar.

“All right my darling, I love you. Take care of yourself.”

She called after him and his:

“I love you more.”

Reached her just before he closed the door. Amused, she shook her head and pushed the finely chopped herbs into a large metal bowl, she put the large chopping board back on her work surface and took the next bunch of herbs. She would be busy for a while yet. She didn't mind. It was her job and she enjoyed doing it. Unlike many other women, she was very satisfied. She had a small but very loving family, a good, tight roof over her head, a job that gave her pleasure on the one hand and on the other provided the family with a small income that they could use to treat themselves to a few comforts from time to time.

The day passed quietly and like any other. She had just finished the last bunch of herbs and was mixing the remaining ingredients for the tincture when she heard her son outside. She looked up and saw him running excitedly across the meadow towards the house. It wasn't unusual for him to run to her or his father to excitedly present his find when he had found something special, but this seemed different. Her maternal instinct kicked in and she went to the door.

She opened the front door just in time to catch him.

“Mama...Mamaaa...”

He shouted, completely out of breath. She welcomed him with a smile and looked down at him attentively.

“Yes, what is it my little angel?”

She asked lovingly and he pressed himself against her before pointing backwards.

“There are people coming mom.”

He said excitedly. She looked over him and to the other end of the meadow. To the path that led to the nearby villages. There was indeed a rider and several figures on foot on the path. The path led nowhere else, so either they were lost, which was unlikely, or they were heading to them, which was much more likely. They rarely received visitors. As a rule, the villagers knew that they came to the market regularly and visited her husband's family in the same breath. So they had to be strangers. She had a bad feeling.

“Honey, go to your chamber to play and close the door.”

She said gently, but with enough emphasis that he didn't ask any questions. He was a good boy and he listened to his mother. He pushed past her and hurried into his room. She heard the door close, then she straightened up and wiped her hands on her apron. She stood in the doorway and waited for the inevitable.

It took a little while. The caravan made no move to hurry her along. Step by step they came closer, like an inevitable end. She could now make out the insignia on the robes. The holy inquisition of his most sacred eclisiarchy. She rolled her eyes. Her grandmother had already warned her. At some point, the minions of the Eclisiarchy would be on the mat, snooping around. She had warned that inquisitors were usually very sneaky characters who would twist your words around in your mouth.

She swallowed but refused to let her uncertainty show. As the caravan approached, she could see that the four figures to the rider's right were heavily armed. Well, she knew very well that the Inquisition was not exactly popular with the people and if they were traveling long distances it was certainly not bad to have a small group of bodyguards with them. The two others on his left looked more like some kind of monk or cleric. The Inquisition was directly subordinate to the Eclisiarchy, so it was not surprising that they had missionaries with them.

They were almost at her side now. The rider raised a hand in greeting. She did the same. Even if she didn't like the idea of contacting the Inquisition, it was an incredibly stupid idea to enrage an Inquisitor before he even arrived. There were easier ways to commit suicide, simpler and far less painful.

He stopped his horse a few meters away from her.

“Greetings. I am Lord Inquisitor Quintus Sargentius.”

His voice sounded firm, determined and he was obviously used to having the last word. She nodded.

“Greetings, Lord Inquisitor. What brings you to my little estate?”

She answered him firmly, in the voice of a mother used to dealing with rebellious men. He smiled and nodded. Slowly he dismounted. The clank of his spurs as the firm heels of his boots hit the ground sounded dangerous. He groaned slightly and moved his legs a little.

“Aaarnnn... This long riding is just not for me. But to answer your question. I was sent to this province to look for... let's say unusual people. It has come to my attention that you make unusual tinctures and potions.”

His voice remained completely calm as he basically accused her of witchcraft in front of his men. She smiled, witchcraft of course. Anything the peasant doesn't understand is witchcraft.

“But of course I make extraordinary tinctures and potions. I am an herbalist. Like my mother and her mother before her and 20 generations before that. It runs in the family. But I can assure you that everything is above board here. But I see you are tired from the long journey. Won't you and your men have a cup of tea and we can talk in peace about everything you want to know and I can show you how I prepare my tinctures. Your clerics are welcome to write down the recipe and try it out for themselves. You'll see there's no magic at work here.”

She replied and made her way into her house.

The Inquisitor looked at her with a smile and patted the dust from his clothes.

“Certainly, a cup of tea can't hurt, what do you guys think?”

He asked, his voice a little rough but probably in a good mood. His companions looked as if they were not averse to the offer. She pointed to a large barrel standing at the corner of the house.

“There's water for your horse, it can graze here. It won't bother anyone.”

She said softly and watched as one of the men went to the barrel and took the large bucket next to it to fill it with water. He took a handful and drank from the bucket himself. He was obviously used to traveling in the most adverse conditions. He placed the bucket in front of the horse and then followed his companions and the inquisitor into the house.

“Please go straight into the kitchen, I'll be right behind you.”

She said and turned into the herb kitchen to fetch a small pot. She carried the gem of baked clay in front of her like a treasure. The inquisitor had already taken a seat in the kitchen and stretched with a loud groan. She smiled.

“How far have you traveled just to find me?”

She asked quietly as she placed the pot on the table and took a large, iron teapot from one of the hooks.

“Oh, we've come all the way from Reichsstadt. These things are extremely important to the pontiff, you must know. The safety of the people and, by extension, the empire are at stake.”

The Inquisitor explained. She looked at him with a broad smile. The statement amused her deeply. She took a large spoon and added a few heaping spoonfuls of her own herbal mixture to the pot.

“The safety of the people? Because of a simple herbalist like me?”

She replied, not quite able to suppress a laugh. When she saw the look on the Inquisitor's face, she continued to smile.

“Don't worry, it's a good mix. Fennel, Anise, Sage and Chamomile. All here from the garden.”

She added and closed the pot again. She took the teapot and turned to the stove, there over the fire was a large kettle full of hot water. She looked at the kettle and took the poker. The fire had become too weak. The water was no longer boiling. She stoked the fire a little and threw in another log. It didn't take long for the bubbles to rise in the cauldron again. She waited a moment before taking the large ladle off the hook.

“Yes, the old man can't take a joke when it comes to witchcraft.”

She remained unmoved. Witchcraft. None of what they were doing here was witchcraft. She knew they existed, the weather witches and the herb witches. Who were able to accomplish amazing things with their power over the elements. But she was not one of them. She dipped the ladle into the water and filled the pot with it.

“Lord Inquisitor, I can assure you none of what happens in this house has anything to do with magic. It's all just herbs and mushrooms.”

She said gently and put the ladle back in its place. Then she came back to the table with the pot and put it down. She turned around again and went to one of the shelves on the wall.

It was filled with all kinds of small bowls and cups. She began to take one after the other from the shelf.

“Unfortunately, the Eclisiarchy sees things differently, someone whose tinctures are as effective as yours must be connected to the forces of chaos.”

Again, his voice remained completely calm, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to accuse someone of witchcraft and thus de facto condemn them to death at the stake. She shook her head, but remained calm. She took the last cup from the shelf and came back to the table.

“So, just because I make sure that the quality of my ingredients and their processing meet the highest possible standards and because I go to great lengths to ensure that my recipes meet the requirements of the users, I am now a witch?”

She asked, distributing the cups on the table. She smelled the tea and decided that it needed to steep for a moment longer. She sat down opposite the inquisitor, who just smiled macabrely at her.

“Well, that's how the Eclisiarchy sees it. I am here now to verify this.”

He was so incredibly sure of himself that there was no way he could ever have been wrong in any of these decisions. And even if he had. What was an innocent on the pyre of reason? She shook her head.

“I am not a witch, my mother was not a witch just like the women who came before her. Witchcraft is not necessary for what I do here. Love, patience, care and diligence are the things and qualities needed to make good herbal tinctures. All the rest is just superstition and hogwash.”

She replied, gesticulating with her hands.

“Hogwash?”

The inquisitor asked curiously.

“Well, you know, hucksterism, quackery.”

Now they both had to laugh. The inquisitor's men also joined in.

“Hogwash... hihihihi... I didn't know that one yet.”

He finally said as he calmed down again. She had already regained her composure and was about to hand out the tea. As she put the pot down again and reached for a cup, the Inquisitor raised his finger.

“Ah...if you please ma'am...”

He stopped her and took her cup, exchanging it for his. She smiled and nodded. Of course she could understand. But if she had wanted to poison him, she would have poisoned all the cups anyway and drank an antidote later. Not that she wouldn't have been able to. She had more than enough poisonous plants in the house. But why would she do that? She had nothing to hide.

“But of course, Lord Inquisitor. In fact, to put her completely at ease, I will drink first.”

She said in a highly amused voice and took a deep sip of the aromatic hot drink. She licked her lips. She loved this mixture. It was round, aromatic but not too strong. It soothed the stomach and the soul and at the same time helped to clear the mind. She breathed a sigh of relief and gently placed the cup back on the table. The Inquisitor nodded approvingly and brought the cup to his mouth, but stopped just before he drank.

“But what if all the cups are poisoned and they only drink an antidote later?”

He asked, glaring at her. She smiled and leaned back.

“Well, you can either trust me for the moment and enjoy a really good cup of tea, or you can do without and miss out on the tea. After the long journey through the cold spring air.”

She replied, completely unimpressed. The inquisitor nodded and drank. His men did the same. It only took a moment for their faces to change as the hot tea began to warm their bodies from the inside. It was really good. None of the men could deny that.

“A really good tea, indeed.”

Complimented the Lord Inquisitor, looking into his cup. She just nodded mutely. He turned the cup slowly back and forth in his hand, looking at the simple cup made of glazed clay.

“So, prove it to me.”

He finally said and she looked at him, completely flabbergasted.

“What do you want me to prove?”

She asked, confused.

“That you're not a witch.”

He said calmly and put on the smile of a predator. She looked at him dumbfounded.

“How am I supposed to prove to you that I'm not a witch? Even if I had magical powers, I wouldn't show them, would I? So how can I prove to them something for which there can be no proof?”

She asked him and he nodded.

“You see, my good woman, that's the crux of this whole dilemma. You can't prove to me that you're not a witch, so how can I believe you that you're not a witch? What would stop you from continuing with your malign techniques and rituals as soon as I leave this house?”

He asked more to himself than to her. She was beginning to believe that he might really think it was true that she was a witch. She shook her head.

“Lord Inquisitor. I assure you, magic has never been practiced here. The inhabitants of the surrounding villages are highly satisfied with the completely natural products I offer them. There has not been a single complaint in 20 generations. Why should we start now?”

Her voice was insistent and she was clearly convinced of herself. The Lord Inquisitor weighed up the information but shook his head nonetheless.

“You don't want to know how many times we've had a warlock put entire regions under hypnosis just so no one would complain about him. But of course, if I were to remove you from this system now, I would also remove these tinctures from the system. Some villagers would probably see that as a disadvantage.”

He replied calmly and sipped his tea once more. One of his men placed his empty cup on the table and absentmindedly she refilled it.

“Of course the villagers wouldn't be happy about losing their herbalist. They'd have to rely on that lackey of a healer and his hogwash again. That hasn't helped anyone yet.”

She threw it at him indignantly and handed the full cup back to the man who had stood next to the stove. The inquisitor had to laugh. There it was again. That hogwash. He nodded.

“And what would your husband and your beloved son say if they found out that their beloved wife and mother was a witch?”

He asked, looking her squarely in the eye. There it was. There was what he had been looking for. It only took a moment, the blink of an eye, and it was gone.

“You'd think you were completely insane. Especially my son.”

She said, but the tone in her voice was different.

“Why your son in particular?”

The Inquisitor asked, leaning forward. Now it was getting interesting. She glared at him.

“Men are easy to manipulate. You know that better than anyone. A woman always has an easy time with a man, no magic needed. A few glances, a few revealing movements and every man follows them like a good dog. Children are different. Children see the world as it is. They follow no laws, no boundaries. They simply live. And they see with open eyes and an open heart. You don't fool a child. A child knows when things are going badly for them, they know when danger is imminent. If you tell my son that his mom is a witch, he'll tell you to your face that you're lying. He won't even think about it. Do you want to try it out?”

She asked, looking at him blatantly. She withstood his gaze. She was used to worse. With a loving but clumsy husband and a son who liked to see if he could push his mother's boundaries. In the end, the inquisitor shook his head. He looked into his cup and placed it on the table.

“No, my dear, I don't think that will be necessary. I think we are almost finished here. I'd like to have another cup of tea while I do the paperwork. You know what I mean. Eclisiarchy. First come the pyres, then the bureaucracy.”

His voice still sounded completely innocent as one of the clerics stepped forward and handed him a large book. He placed it on the table in front of him while she poured him another drink and finally looked at the others, who all waved her away.

She watched with interest as he went through the pages of the book and finally stopped at a page, opened the book and pulled a pen out of his breast pocket. He traced the lines until he came to the place he was looking for. He crossed something out and pulled out a paper from the end of the book and read through it briefly.

“Just a moment.”

He said and began feverishly writing on the paper. Meanwhile, the second cleric warmed wax over the fire.

“Wax.”

The inquisitor ordered and the cleric rushed over and dripped a blob of sealing wax onto the paper. The inquisitor watched him with satisfaction.

“So, in the name of his most holy eclisiarchy, chosen by the grace of God on whose behalf I have been sent, jada jada jada...”

He pressed his signet ring into the wax and the cleric sprinkled a little sand over it.

“... it is an honor to inform you that you have been absolved of all charges...”

He handed her the paper, but before she could grab it, he pulled it back a little.

“For the time being. It could be that I might get a hankering for such a delicious tea again, then it could be that there are still a few questions I need to clarify with you.”

He said mischievously. She took the paper from his hand and scowled at him. She couldn't read High Gothic. It was all just squiggly lines to her, but she decided to keep the paper somewhere safe. She stood up and put it on the kitchen cupboard first.

“You wait here!”

It was an order. Not a request. He offered no resistance. It was only a short moment before she came back. She had brought one of the small bottles with her and took the tea pot. She opened the lid and filled the small bottle with tea. Then she closed both securely and handed him the bottle.

“For the journey.”

She said and looked around. The inquisitor took the small bottle and looked at the dried contents. He smiled.

“Very obliging my dearest.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Slowly, she herded the Inquisitor's men out in front of her. The Lord Inquisitor stretched once more before slowly rising to his feet. He looked around the kitchen once more.

“What a cozy little home. Makes you want to come back again.”

He said more to himself than to anyone else. He walked slowly along the hallway, past the staircase to the second floor and the cellar. He looked at both staircases with interest. Curiosity tugged at him, but he wouldn't give in to it. Over the years, he had learned when it was worth following his instincts and when it was not. As he passed the herb kitchen, he could hear her working in there. He cautiously stepped through the low door. Around him, ceiling-high shelves had been placed along all the walls. They were all filled to bursting with small bottles, bundles of various herbs and mushrooms. Others contained large bottles of clear liquid. It smelled tart and spicy. She was mixing something in a large bowl, using a large mortar. He watched her quietly and memorized everything she did. She seemed to have just finished mixing, because she placed the heavy stone mortar next to the bowl and blindly took a bottle from the shelf, pulled off the cork and poured the contents into the bowl. When she was happy with the mixing ratio, she put the bottle down and picked up the mortar again. Once again, she mixed the green mixture, which now smelled very strongly of alcohol, thoroughly. She then took one of the small bottles from the table and opened it. She carefully poured some of the mixture into the bottle and closed it again. She used the mortar to press the cork firmly into the bottle. She placed the mortar back on the work surface and turned to face the inquisitor. She was not startled, not even surprised, which disappointed him a little. She smiled and pressed the bottle into his hand.

“Lord Inquisitor Guintus, you have little chance of sneaking up on a mother in her own house. I know every floorboard in this house, I know every sound this house makes. No one can approach me unnoticed.”

She explained when she saw his face and then continued.

“Take this with you. It has an anti-inflammatory and healing effect. For humans and animals. For external use.”

He looked at the small bottle and nodded. He would certainly know how to use the tincture on the long journey back to Reichsstadt. She accompanied him outside. His cohort was already waiting for him there. He turned around once more and smiled at her openly.

“Well then, it was a pleasure to visit you. It is not often that we are able to absolve someone completely. I am very glad that this time it was the case. I don't think we'll see each other again soon.”

He declared excitedly and mounted his horse again. His men were still filling their bottles and hoses with fresh water. She nodded gently.

“Don't be angry with me, but I would gladly forego a reunion.”

She replied and crossed her arms in front of her chest. This was more than understandable and the Inquisitor nodded. When his men had finished, he steered his horse back towards the path. His men followed him.

She stood still for a while and watched him go. When they were far enough away, she turned slowly and went into the house. She closed the heavy door and leaned against it. She took a deep breath and then went into the herb kitchen. She reached for a bottle from one of the shelves. She pulled the cork off and took a deep swig and slid down the door frame and remained sitting on the floor. She looked at her hands and tried to get the trembling under control.

Some time later, her husband came out of the woods again. When he opened the door, he found her still sitting there. The bottle was now almost half empty. Astonished, he came to her and crouched down next to her.

“Honey? Honey? What's happened?”

He asked worriedly and she just looked at him with a smile. It took a moment and then she shook her head. He smiled and carefully picked her up from the floor.

“Oh dear... that bad? Come on, I'll take you to the bedroom first and we'll put you in your bed and then you can tell me everything.”

He said good-naturedly and carried her carefully up the stairs to the upper floor. As he came down the corridor with her, his son peeked out of his room.

“Are the men gone?”

He asked and his father just nodded silently.

“Is mom tired?”

His father grinned and nodded again.

“Yes, she's drunk too much of the good herbal liqueur, now mom is tired. What kind of men were those?”

He asked. And his son cautiously came out of his room and followed him.

“I don't know, but mom was really scared, she sent me to my room”

His son admitted truthfully. He nodded gently and pushed open the door to the bedroom.

“Good, go play, dad will look after mom. It's all good.”

His son grinned and retreated again. He looked down at his beloved, who just grinned at him in a silly way. She was completely drunk. He wasn't going to get any more meaningful information out of her today.

“So much for, let's have some fun later...”

He said more to himself than to anyone else as he laid his wife on the bed and brushed her hair out of her face. She was still beautiful, even if she looked at him all drunk an in bliss. He chuckled softly and took of her shoes. He took her feet and softly massaged them. Her soft giggles and humms of aprovement filled the room. He took his time, lütting her adapt and relax under his ministrations. She slowly squirmed in her bed and gave little noises of pleasure from her. He loved her so much for that. Softly he let go of her and cam back to her side. She smiled at him and pursed her lips. He shook his head softly in disbelief but kissed her anyway. She wraped her arms around his neck and held him to herself. They kissed for a while, but in the end her tiredness won and she let got of him. Softly he stroked her once more and covered her up. He would undress her later, if she did not wake up in the Meantime to do it herself. He would try and create something that could be called Dinner for him and his son first.

His scream, roughly 2 minutes later, when he found the Paper from the Inquisitor could be heard to villages down the road.

The End.

Concept and Idea by

El Poyo Diabolo

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El Poyo Diabolo

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El Poyo Diabolo

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