The Witch's Tower by Tamara Grantham (top novels .txt) 📕

Checking my coin purse, I counted my money. Seventy-five shekels. I could buy a cask of flour and a few apples, enough to last a week, but that wouldn’t do. I’d need more than that if we wanted to survive through winter. This wasn’t going how I’d planned.

I walked down the lane, hoping a different spot would attract some new customers. My stomach rumbled as I walked, and I realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day. I blamed my coin purse.

A shadow loomed over me, and I stopped, staring up into the dark eyes of a man with deep bronze skin.

“Gothel?” he asked.

I eyed him. “You know me?”

“Yes, we met last night. Don’t you remember?”

“Last night?” I studied him. Was he an Outlander? No one in Willow Wood had such dark skin, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen an Outlander here. I wasn’t even sure there were any left. I thought they’d all been killed.

“Were you the man with the prince?” I asked.

He nodded.

“You hurt my arm!”

“Did I?”

“Yes! You almost bruised me.”

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention. I was only trying to protect the prince.”

“Against me?”

“I had no idea who you were. Plus, it was dark. You could’ve been anyone.”

“Fine. What do you want?”

“I need your help. You must return with me to the tower immediately.”

“Why?”

“Because something happened to the prince.”

My heart sank. The prince had failed. I wished I was surprised, but I was beginning to believe that a noble-hearted prince didn’t exist.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Yes, I told him he needed to stop and think before he climbed into the tower, but he never listens to me. I’m only his squire, anyway. And now something has happened to him and I need your help.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

“No, you have to. Don’t you see? It’s the prince. If something happens to him, I lose my head. I’m supposed to be his protector. And I’m not a Sir, by the way. I’m merely a squire. My name is Raj Talmund.”

“Raj?”

He nodded. With a name like that, he had to be an Outlander.

“Raj, I’m very sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. I warned the prince not to enter the tower unless he had a noble heart. If he never returned from the tower, then he must’ve fallen under the spell. If that happened, then there’s nothing I can do to help him.”

“Nothing at all?”

“I’m sorry, no.”

His face fell. “Then what am I to do?”

“The spell most likely put him to sleep. If that’s the case, then he’ll wake in a week or two. I would suggest bringing his body back to the king and explaining what happened. It was the high sorcerer who locked his own daughter inside that cursed tower. If the king wants to be angry with someone, it should be with the sorcerer. Now, if you will please excuse me, I’ve got a million herbs to sell before I can buy my supplies and leave this village.”

I brushed past him. He grabbed my arm. Again. In the very same spot where he’d grabbed me last night. This was a habit I was hoping he’d break.

“Release me,” I said, hoping he heard the steel in my voice.

“There has to be a way. I can’t wait a week or two. Please, if you’re to earn money, then let me help. I’ve more than enough to buy all your supplies. Let me buy your evening meal. There’s a tavern down the way that serves the best honeyed baguettes you’ve ever tasted.”

“I know of the baguettes. I’ve lived near Willow Wood for a few years, you know. Word gets around. And I’m shocked that you want to buy my supplies and my meal? How desperate are you?”

“I will do whatever it takes to restore the prince. There must be something you can do for him.”

I pondered his offer. If it meant I got my supplies and a meal, wouldn’t I be a fool to pass up such an opportunity—especially with the lure of honeyed baguettes involved? But it wouldn’t be right, and I knew it.

“I wish I could take you up on your offer, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be fair. I wish you would understand that I’m powerless to help the prince. I can’t take your money.”

He flexed his jaw as he glanced at the sun sinking toward the horizon.

“You live in that tower?” he asked.

I nodded.

“The high sorcerer put you there?”

“Yes. I’m bound to the tower and the princess. I can only leave if an emergency arises, such as when we’re starving—and we are.”

“Then let me buy your evening meal and your supplies. It’s not right what the high sorcerer does to people. If I can help you in any way, then I feel I must do this, especially if you’re starving as you say.”

I grumbled under my breath, wishing I’d never brought up the state of my empty stomach.

“Fine,” I relented, “but only if you let go of my arm.”

“Oh.” He released it quickly, as if he’d forgotten he was still holding it. I wasn’t sure if he realized what a strong grip he had.

“Come, let me escort you to the tavern.”

“You have no need to escort me. I know the way.”

“Nonsense. I’m a knight in training. It’s my duty to escort you.” He held out his arm, and I looked at it. No one had ever paid me any attention since I’d come to Willow Wood, and certainly hadn’t thought to lend me their arm. I had half a mind to refuse him, as I knew he was only trying to get my help, but I wasn’t a complete imbecile. If it meant I got a free meal, I wouldn’t turn him down.

I took his arm, and he led me through the village. We walked past the fountain shaped as a Pegasus, the sounds of trickling water following us. Horses and carts passed us by, their wheels squeaking over the cobbled lanes. We stopped when we reached a tall building with a thatched roof and red shutters that reflected the evening sunlight.

As we entered, the heavenly scent of baked bread washed over me, bringing back memories from my childhood, when I’d been a scrawny kid running through the castle halls, scrounging up morsels of bread to take home to Mother.

“Shall we sit here?” Raj asked, motioning to a table near an open window where a breeze rushed through.

“Yes, that’s fine.”

I took a seat across from him. He smiled at me, revealing dimples in his cheeks I hadn’t noticed before. I’d never seen such a genuine smile, his white teeth contrasting his smooth, bronzed skin. His dark, exotic eyes were attractive, yet held a calculated intelligence. My heart gave a slight flutter, confusing me. Surely, I couldn’t be attracted to him. He’d hurt me!

I straightened the napkin on my lap and dodged his bewitching smile. The last thing I needed was to be distracted by a squire—the king’s son’s squire—no less. What would High Sorcerer Varlocke say to that?

I’d be flayed.

A woman placed a basket of baguettes and a tumbler of honey on the table, then ambled away. I wanted to keep my composure. Looking desperate at a time like this wouldn’t be prudent, but my hunger won out, and I grabbed a piece of bread, drowned it in honey, and took a bite.

My taste buds danced at the flavors of soft bread and sweet honey. Why did starvation make food taste so heavenly?

Raj cleared his throat as he watched me eat.

“Tell me,” he said. “How is it you came to live in the tower?”

“It was because of a fight between my mother and the high sorcerer. It was a stupid argument. Long story. You probably don’t want to hear it.”

“We have time.”

Did we? I glanced out the window. Assuming I could buy all my supplies tonight, and assuming I was able to get a cart to carry them in, I would be able to make it back to the tower tonight and be there before morning. I supposed I had nothing better to do than sit around and talk about my harrowing past. At least it made a good story.

“All right,” I said, “but it’s a depressing tale. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Before I was born, my mother lived in a cottage near the castle. Her name was Aethel. She grew things in her garden, and she was very skilled at it. In fact, her radishes were said to be magical—they could make a person invincible.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, the then King Varlocke found out about her radishes. He started stealing them from her. After that, he did something he hadn’t been able to do before, he started vanquishing all the outlying villages around him, and then the other kingdoms. It’s how he became high sorcerer.”

“With magical radishes?”

I nodded.

He rested his fisted hands on the table. When he looked away from me, I saw the pain in his eyes. “Most of my