CONTENT WARNING: Discussions of murder as usual.
A month later into what seems like an endless winter...
Reynold
Things have been quiet of late, but busy.
With the weather getting colder, we've been letting people stay for the afternoon in the monastery after the sermons have ended, to give people a break from the bitter cold. It seems no amount of peace lasts in Henford. Áine and Róisín have been doing a lot of cooking together at home, often making things for Eli and Oskar as well. Eli has been taking Róisín out on horse rides through the woods, and Oskar has kept his focus on helping Eli for the moment. My father has been trying and failing to look for work. I doubt he'll find anything anytime soon. Oskar keeps offering to help him out, but Alistair is even more stubborn than Oskar even is.
A letter I've been dreading for a while appeared on my desk today- from Juniper, asking me to meet her at the cathedral for what she calls 'general discussion'. She's stamped the Eye of Jacob in three different places on the paper.
When I met Julian, despite how poorly it went, I was much more naïve back then. I'd did my best to hold up a polite front to him, regardless of how long that actually lasted for once he'd started going on about the 'witch problem'. With Juniper, I'll have to put my foot down immediately. Julian was misled. Juniper knows she's the one doing the misleading. I'd told Julian not to worry, but the trouble is, Juniper might not just suspect me. If she does, and she sends witchfinders after the monastery- who knows who else she'll accuse? Who knows if she'll even start accusing Peterans just to spite the monastery? Is she really so cruel? Is it bad to have such a low expectation of someone like that?
No, I can't let her find out who I am right now, but eventually, I will have to be more open about it. Before Mother Joyce passed, she told me that, one day, the people closest to me would have to know. I can't let Juniper come after anyone else in the monastery suspecting them of witchcraft. When push comes to shove, I'll have no choice but to show her and everyone else who - and what - I truly am.
If I'm open about my magic, I risk the monastery and my own life, and the people of Henford as a result. If I keep quiet about my magic, I risk the lives of the Peterans, and the people of Henford as a result. In this position, there's no such thing as an easy decision, and there's no such thing as the right decision.
When I arrive at the cathedral, there's a darker air to it than there was before.
Before, there was at least the air of grandeur of the place, and the sensation that you were stepping into hundreds of years' worth of history when you entered. Now, I feel dwarfed by the grey stone, and the intricate stain glass seems to play tricks on my eyes.
Everywhere you look, the Eye of Jacob, and as such, the eye of Juniper and of the Watcher were upon you. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd hung four of them next to the chamberpot alone. There wasn't a single place in the cathedral where you weren't reminded of your wrongdoings and your insignificance. You were reminded that, if you didn't subscribe to whatever version of Jacobism Juniper had concocted to get what she wanted, you wouldn't be spared upon the Eve of Retribution.
The Eye of the Watcher didn't perturb me, no matter how many she'd hung up all around the place.
Once I arrive in her quarters, I notice there are more paintings hung up all around the place, alongside an expensive-looking desk, more old artifacts from other countries, and what even looks like an unearthed skull from a creature long dead. I can't imagine how much of the Jacobans' donation money went on all of this.
"A pleasure, Reynold."
We haven't even met before, and she's already trying to talk down to me. "Juniper."
"I think you're forgetting something, don't you?"
"I don't believe so, Juniper."
She cackles at me, and gives me a smug side-smirk. "You young ones ought to learn to respect your elders, hm? Come, sit with me."
She offers me some tea, which I don't bother to touch. She reaches over, taking a sip from my cup. "See? It's just tea. No need to be so distrusting, dear."
"Why did you call me here, Juniper?" I ask her, firmly. "I have a feeling it wasn't just that you wanted to get to know me."
"Clever boy," she sneers, taking a mouthful of tea. "No, no, Reynold. I think I know enough about you already- much more than almost anyone else knows about you. You see, I have reason to believe that you are hiding a little secret- and not just about how your daughter came about. Though that's hardly a secret, is it?"
"Get to the point."
She chuckles, breaking the awkward silence with the clinking of porcelain. "I remember when Julian spoke of how you were so vehemently against dealing with witches. Of course, not long after he started to become friendly towards you, he was attacked by a witchfinder, and yet he miraculously survived an attack that would have killed any man...had magic not been involved."
"It isn't impossible to survive a wound from a sword, Juniper," I tell her. "Julian and I came to an understanding with one another, and I visited him after he was attacked. We may have not always seen eye to eye, but I didn't want him to die."
"That was the problem with Julian. No push at all. No backbone. I warn you, Reynold, I do not have his lenience. I have no plans to go easy on anyone- especially not those who seek to destroy the natural order with magic."
After that little tirade, now it's my time to throw accusations.
"Did you send witchfinders after Julian and my sister?"
After a short pause, her sick smirk says it all. With Julian, there was always an element to him that suggested he at least felt some level of remorse- as if he didn't always like what he had to do, but did it anyway in fear of the Watcher. With Juniper, there isn't a sliver of empathy.
"Clementia was my first suspect of witchcraft. Julian and Clementia were almost like father and daughter. At first, I wondered if he'd changed so drastically because-"
"You tried to get her killed because you knew she wouldn't follow you as the Eye of Jacob, didn't you? You kicked a fellow woman out of a position of power in a place where such a thing isn't common. You felt threatened, so you tried to get Julian and Clementia killed."
She won't stop laughing. I try to keep my anger at bay, otherwise I might end up proving to her tonight exactly what I am.
"Threatened? By Clementia? Don't be ridiculous. She was brainwashed by a senile old man into turning her back on the Watcher the same way he did. Either Clementia was a witch, or Julian was trying to defend one. That is the entire truth."
I don't hold back and risk raising my voice. If she isn't holding back, then neither am I.
"Julian was far from senile, and wasn't weak in the slightest. He realised he was wrong and did everything he could to change that around. You just wanted him out so you could take his place, didn't you? You know you're wrong and you don't care- not about a fellow woman's place in the cathedral, and not about the women who are going to die because of your stances on witchcraft!"
She leans back in her chair and looks all around the room, letting out a long sigh. "Strange how you insist that I should join hands and sing with every other woman in Henford when all you men do is kill each other, isn't it?" She chuckles at me, taking a long sip of her tea. "Pardon me, Reynold," she adds, in a high-pitched voice. "Let me go and set up a lovely little tea party for my fellow girls in a frilly floral dress whilst you go and wage another war-"
"I'm not saying you need to be friends with every woman," I retort. "I'm saying that if you turn your back on other women, it doesn't mean the Jacoban men are going to respect you more. They aren't going to spare you from humiliation and distrust."
"And who made you the expert on women, Reynold?"
I take a long drawn out breath through gritted teeth.
She grunts in her throat, nodding her head sideways. "Man, woman, why does it matter what I am? What matters is that I am the Eye of Jacob, and I intend to do what old man Julian couldn't and take a tough stance on the plague of magic. I don't care whether or not the Jacoban men like me or not. I don't care what does or doesn't dangle between the legs of whoever has magic in their blood, Reynold. What I care about is the safety of the lives of people who don't go around meddling with nature whenever they don't get what they want. The only way to deal with that is to eliminate the problem."
"The witch-hunts haven't stopped at magic-folk. Innocent people, mostly women, like yourself, with no magic at all have been hung, burned and drowned- men, women, children. The definition of 'witch' has nothing to do with magic at this point, and if you call for their deaths, then it won't be long until the swords are pointed at your throat."
"That's all well and good, Reynold, but we ought to get off of this tangent, don't you think? Back to what I was saying before you rather rudely changed the direction of the conversation...yes, I initially suspected Clementia was a witch. I had good reason to, after all. I gave her a dagger to defend herself- I gave her a chance to get away- 'fair chase' and all."
So her idea of respecting Clementia...was giving her a dagger to protect herself from the danger she'd sent after her?
"Then I learned that a certain creature of the night protected her and killed one of those witchfinders."
So Julian was right, after all. Juniper is deeply suspicious of me. Either she'll kill me, or she'll suspect one of the Peterans if I deflect the accusation. And if I disagree with her accusation in any way, she'll make it about man and woman, I know she will.
"I know who you are, Reynold," she whispers, in a cheap attempt to intimidate me. She speaks in a slightly louder voice. "I know what you are. You're that dreaded wolf, aren't you?"
"That's quite the accusation, Juniper," I reply, my voice completely free of emotion. "Do you accuse everyone you don't like of witchcraft? What proof do you have of that werewolf being me?"
Juniper growls to herself, lying her cheek on her palm. "You know, I half expected you to be easier to deal with. I thought Peterans were all about peace and love."
"We are," I bite back. "That's precisely why I don't want thousands of people to be culled, and that's precisely why I will do anything to protect my people."
"Anything? Well, that hardly sounds Peteran."
"I don't need a Jacoban telling me how to be a Peteran, Juniper. If you can break the rules, then so can I."
Juniper collects up the tea cups, almost breaking one of them as she carries them all in her arms in one go. "I see we're getting nowhere, so for both our sakes I'll cut this meeting short. The trouble is, Reynold, I have good reason to suspect that you are that dreaded murderous wolf. Julian's sudden change of heart, protecting Clementia, being so stubborn about people's genuine concerns about magic...It all makes sense, doesn't it? So I'll set you a challenge.
Upon the next full moon, I will wait here for you at the cathedral, and you will visit. If I do not see a snarling ball of black fur on the doorstep, then I will admit I am wrong. However, if you do not show, then I know that you are hiding something- if not you, perhaps you are defending one of the Peterans, I wonder?"
I can't go to the cathedral upon the full moon, neither can I miss it and risk her sending witchfinders after the Peterans! I know for a fact that some of the people who rely on us for food and guidance have magic in their blood. I can't risk my own life, and I certainly can't risk ours...
All I can do is be on my guard, and be ready to protect the monastery at any moment. Sooner or later, the entire monastery will know either of my two secrets...