Chương 94: A Fine Mesh for a Clean Finish

Bernard didn't see the witch's face at first. Most of them were just trying to enjoy their chunky ale. Bernard generally preferred chunky ale to people. Chunky ale was predictable, you see, and people were not. In fact he would have preferred to be drinking chunky ale at home, or even better, vodka, but unfortunately Gertruda had kicked him out again. It wasn't his fault he'd tried to use her favorite Sunday underdress as a filter for his home-distilled potato spirit, surely she should understand that by now.

A man needs a fine mesh for a clean finish, and it wasn't like she wore it every day. No matter. In a couple of hours she'd have forgotten all about it. Or maybe not, but after a couple of hours of drinking he wouldn't care nearly as much and he would barely be able to feel the sting of her slipper. Two girls came into the bar and were talking to Melchior. At least, he assumed they were both girls.

The small, blonde one looked young, and the slightly taller one with the long dark hair was wearing some sort of mask that reminded him of his mother in law. Bernard shuddered. Gertruda's mother had to be older than Stvora by now, and the only reason he could think of for her to still be alive was that even Stvora was scared of her. When the door creaked open and a bunch of inquisitors walked in, Bernard did what any rational man would do. He made himself small and tried to look as boring as possible.

Alfons did the opposite of what a rational man would do—such was his way—and raised his mug to the only female inquisitor.

"Hey! Y-you got tits under there orrr did the Church tax those too?" He tried to wink, but he just ended up closing both eyes. The woman scowled, then knocked him out with a single strike of her staff. Great. Alfons has pissed them off and now we'll have to suffer for it. Bernard wanted to leave, but was afraid that if he got up now he'd be the next one to get knocked out by that staff. He took another sip of his pleasantly predictable chunky ale and silently cursed Gertruda for kicking him out again.

The inquisitors were talking amongst each other now, but Bernard wasn't paying attention. He was thinking about his vodka. He sighed. He'd have to start over again. Maybe hide it somewhere in the woods this time, somewhere Getruda wouldn't be able to find it. He wondered if he should try to take some of her mother's undergarments to use as a filter next time they were over at their house. You'd be able to filter a massive container with those things.

He quietly chuckled to himself, then glanced over and noticed the female inquisitor had moved. She was now harassing the young girl that had come in with the one with the ugly mask. He wanted to shake his head, but didn't. If Alfons hadn't done what he had done, this poor girl probably would have been left in peace. Bernard looked over just in time to see the one with the ugly mask say "Froggy goes ribbit" and throw a frog at the inquisitor that was standing in front of her. …

Froggy goes — He didn't have time to finish his thought because the frog thrower used a magic spell to blast off the female inquisitor's ear and all hell broke lose. Bernard was certain he was going to die and felt a deep sadness. Not because he was going to die, no, but because he never got to finish his precious vodka. He looked down at his mug. At least I can finish this, he thought as he gulped the thick ale down.

One of the inquisitors launched a flaming boulder at the frog thrower, who got slammed into a wall. What did she think would happen, throwing that frog? And now she's dead. Has everyone in this place gone insane? Only she wasn't dead. When she got back up the mask was gone, and Bernard realized his previous definition of "beautiful" had been a pathetic placeholder. She had shiny, long black hair, olive skin, silver eyes. Probably smelled great, too. She was stunning in a way he hadn't known was possible.

Nothing in his life had prepared him for this woman, and nothing after would compare. She wasn't even looking at him, and he felt like he'd been given an audience with a queen. Like he should bow. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. So he ran. Because Bernard was a rational man, he did what any rational man would do—slip outside while everyone else was distracted by the pretty girl. Outside he noticed her young companion, now surrounded by even more inquisitors.

When had she escaped the inn? A fellow rationalist. Looks like she had been a bit too early, though.

"You! Halt!" one of the inquisitors called out to him. Apparently he was a bit early himself. Dang it.

"Look, mister," Bernard started.

"I haven't done anything wrong. I say my prayers to Stvora daily." Please, Stvora, let me get out of this alive, he thought, and briefly touched two fingers to his forehead.

"What's going on in—" The inquisitor got interrupted by the beautiful lady crashing through the wall of The Tail End. An enormous boulder pinned her to the ground.

"Hecate!" the young girl said.

"Kasia," the pretty lady, who was apparently named Hecate, rasped. Then to Bernard's surprise he heard a loud bang, and the inquisitor's head was gone. He didn't even see how it happened. The next moment she was suddenly behind one of the other inquisitors, and his head also disappeared with a bang. Had Stvora answered his prayer? Had he sent her to save him? He didn't wait for an answer and just started running. He felt the air heat up behind him, but did not look back. He may have screamed a little.

He ran straight back to his house, where Gertruda was waiting outside with a rolling pin. He came to a halt in front of her, panting. She raised it in the air.

"You smell like alcohol. I told you not to—""Please!" he gasped.

"They're fighting inquisitors! At The Tail End."

"You think I'm stupid, Bernard?"

"I swear, kochanie! I wouldn't lie to my little misiu!"

"We'll see about that," she said as she grabbed him by the ear and pulled him back toward The Tail End.

"If you're lying to me, you're sleeping with the dog!" When they got back a crowd had already formed, and Hecate was having a conversation with the lead inquisitor. It appeared that there were only three inquisitors left, the rest lying dead on the ground. Gertruda gasped.

"By Stvora!"

"Hecate, can you just tell us why?" the lead inquisitor said.

"I told you I'd never lie to you!" Bernard said to his wife. Gertruda pulled on his ear.

"Shhh!" Hecate started explaining how she came to Silesia to save its children, because the Church never missed a tithe, but ignored every cry for help. Said she killed the Swamp Devil because the Church refused to. She wiped a tear from her eye, clearly overcome by the Church's betrayal of the people it had sworn to protect.

"She really cares about us!" a woman said. The crowd started getting riled up. Even Gertruda was getting agitated, still holding onto Bernard's ear as she moved from one leg to the other in excitement. He really wished he'd drank more now. His ear was starting to hurt, but he was too afraid of Gertruda to ask her to let go.

"Yeah!" someone whispered.

"They have been taxing us, and for what? They just walk all over us. Let our children die."

"Someone that beautiful must speak the truth," another said.

"I came here for the youth!" Hecate shouted.

"For the babes! Because a wise man once told me that children are the future, and if the Inquisition keeps blowing up all the youngins, there won't be a future! They hate children because children ask too many questions! Questions like: 'Why is that man missing a tooth?' and 'Why does that lady have no ears?'" Gertruda pulled Bernard into her.

"You see that, Bernie? That son of a bitch is missing a tooth! He must hate babies!" Bernard didn't really understand why missing a tooth meant that the man hated babies, but he didn't want to disagree with his wife, especially when she was still holding his ear.

"Yes, dear." Hecate's expression filled with disappointment.

"The Church wants a world without laughter, without joy! They saw me, a humble protector of innocent babes, and they said, 'She's too pretty. Her hair is too nice. She makes the children believe they are allowed to dream! We hate babies! Kill her!'" That really got the crowd going. People were screaming and shouting. Some people cried. Hecate had said what a lot of people had been thinking for a long time, but were too afraid to say out loud. All the Church had done was take and take.

Even when there was nothing left they still tried to take more. And for what? They did not even protect the youngest. The people got nothing in return. The Church had been lying to them all along, and this stranger had come to their village to expose their shameful, disgusting behavior. She fearlessly stood against eight inquisitors and called them out on their lies. This beautiful stranger selflessly put her life at risk to stand up for them, asking nothing in return. The complete opposite of the Church.