Felix awoke in his armor. There was no sign of Caesar. His stomach hurt and he had a great thirst. As his mind cleared, he had but one mission—find the honey witch.


    Felix knew that Lorenzo was on his way, and that could lead to a conflict Felix was not prepared for. Between his muddled head and pierced lung, he was not in fighting shape. Felix did have one advantage, though. The pistol, which he had fired back in Rome, was still at his hip. To arm the weapons he would need saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur.


    Felix knew that Haddie, the honey witch so rich with lotions and potions, may have the ingredients he needed. She was his only option.


    Felix stormed into the scullery. Haddie was not there—perhaps fortunate for her sake. The kitchen was in disarray, pots and pans in need of washing and all manner of half-finished projects were spread across its counters. A large glass jar gained Felix’s interest. Within it was a large wax honeycomb from a beehive and what looked like two liters of fresh golden honey—not that honey need be fresh.


    Beside the jar were bouquets of wilting flowers, some crushed into a paste in a stone mortar. The flowers were as Haddie said—yarrow, lavender, and chrysanthemums.


    Felix lifted the pots and pans looking for a different plant. A source of the madness. He could not find a single petal of any plant that may have been the adulterating source of their spiked honey. A fungus, maybe, or a spore, Felix thought.


    He also could not find the saltpeter he needed. But he was able to pilfer a small glass vial of sulfur, which he slipped up his sleeve. The charcoal would be simple to find, as it could be created in any hearth. Felix had another plan to source his saltpeter, but it would take time.


    The castle gate was left open and Felix walked through. The guards were not at their stations, and likely slept in on quiet mornings. It was best to leave guards to their leisure when not needed, as you do not want the men protecting you to grow overworked and bitter.


    Felix walked around the castle and found what he was looking for, a stream. He followed it through the high grasses, swatting away buzzing insects and avoiding the scratching limbs of downed branches. There were flowering plants here, too, fragrant pink orchids and the alien-looking edelweiss that harbored six spiked florets within a wooly star. Both flourished at these high altitudes.


    Felix was nearly ready to give up, but then he found it. Beautiful, he thought, and he allowed himself a quiet gasp. The oleander, also called rosebay, was a delicate, bright pink flower with five petals that rolled inward at their edges


    Their smell was sweet. Sweeter than anything he had ever smelled. But these flowers held a secret. Felix carefully plucked a flower and smelled it. The aroma matched the jar of honey from the night before. He then collected a few of the flowers and their stems as evidence.


    On reaching the rear of the castle he saw rows of upturned straw baskets that harbored the bees. And, beside them, stood Haddie. She wore a loose fitting white outfit that covered her completely. On her head was a shoulder cowl with a long-tailed hood stuffed with a circular wicker mask.


    Felix was furious, and marched towards her holding out the flowers in his hand. It wasn’t until he was a few feet from her that he had learned his error.


    First, he did not look like a powerful prosecutor laying down the most damning of evidence. He looked like a boy smitten with a girl, offering her flowers. That was embarrassing, but not his worst mistake.


    His worst mistake was marching up to a beekeeper who had yet to smoke the bees to calm them down. They were angry, and while Haddie was wearing protection, Felix was ripe for their wrath.


    “I’m flattered. But you really should go or you’ll be stung,” said Haddie behind her flat wicker mask.


    “As I have already been stung by your treachery?”


    “Don’t be dramatic.”


    “You poisoned me, and your lord.”


    “I did no such thing. I saved you.”


    Felix batted away a bee, while another stung him on the cheek. “Blast it!”


    Felix grabbed Haddie by the wrist, and marched her around the castle to the front gate.


    “Witch hunter, release me!” cried Haddie as she was ushered along. The wicker mask fell from her hood and she attempted to grab it, but Felix yanked her away.


    “Be silent, woman!”


    “You don’t know what you’re doing.”


    “I know what I am doing, I am conducting a witch trial, and you!” said Felix pausing to turn to Haddie, to make his point clear, “are most assuredly, a witch!”


    The men at the gates were gone when Felix led Haddie by the wrist into the castle. But the courtyard was not empty. Lorenzo and his men were there, mounted on their horses.


    Lorenzo leaned down on his saddle with crossed arms. “Well, we meet again, DeWinter.”


    Felix and Haddie were led into the banquet hall. Felix thought it prudent not to resist. In this instance, they were on the same side. God’s judgement would be exacted on this witch, and Felix had no objections.


    It pained him, though, deep down. Haddie had rendered aid to him without his asking. There was hope for her, he believed. If she begged forgiveness with conviction, maybe she could be saved and receive salvation.


    The two were sat side by side on a long table, and the men in Lorenzo’s charge lit the candles in the dark hall, rekindling the memory of what the great hall once was in better days when men and minstrels may have danced beneath its trusses.


    One of his men returned with bread and jars of honey from the kitchen. He placed it on the table in front of Lorenzo, who kicked his feet up onto the table.


    “Where is my lord?” asked Haddie.


    “He’s proven inadequate for our purposes, especially in the state you’ve put him in. He will be replaced with a more temperate lord. But first, what do we do with the Canis Dei?”


    Felix shot Lorenzo a scolding look. “I have no quarrel here. Get on with your trial of this witch.”


    Lorenzo and his men laughed. “You’re mistaken. We have two witch trials to conduct.”


    Felix looked around, confused.


    “Come here boy,” said Lorenzo, motioning a beckoning arm.


    Ollie appeared shuffling in with a limp. Grimmand held the boy by the shoulders, ushering him towards Lorenzo.


    “Tell everyone what you told me.”


    Ollie looked scared, rifling his hands. “She bewitched our lord. And I asked this man for help. And I saw him in the courtyard, bewitched himself. He was stumbling in an unholy stupor, and I heard him in the tower, communing with a devil.”


    Lorenzo opened his mouth in a mock gasp. “The favorite of the Holy See, communing with a devil!”Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The men around Felix shared the same mocking gasps. They meant to kill him this time. And, in truth, had a solid case to burn them both alive. But Felix was a step ahead.


    Felix placed the flowers he had collected down onto the table for all the men to see. “This is oleander. It is poisonous, and can be deadly, but in low doses can drive men to madness. The bees have been harvesting its nectar and adulterating the honey. The oracles at Delphi have used the same herb for centuries to gain their visions. This is no work of witches. This woman did not know, and is innocent. Its cause is natural.”


    Lorenzo leaned over the table and retrieved the flowers. He studied them halfheartedly, then tossed them over his shoulder.


    “You think this will protect you? Flowers?” Lorenzo’s eyes sharpened. “I sentence you both to death, along with your bewitched lord.”


    One of Lorenzo’s men, the squire turned knight Finoldo, entered the banquet hall from a rear archway, dragging a cackling Siegfried Von Reichter, still in his sleeping gown, across the floor, kicking his legs and protesting in gibberish.


    “Retrieve the serpent from him,” said Lorenzo. “He is of no use to us.”


    Finoldo withdrew a knife.


    Ollie cried out, “No, stop!” But Grimmund placed a hand over the boy’s mouth to silence him.


    “What are you doing?” Haddie said, her eyes wide.


    Finoldo made a wicked grin, meeting Felix’s eyes, then slit the lord’s throat.


    The mad Siegfried Von Reichter clutched at his throat, blood pouring in a waterfall over his white gown. He gargled and spat up blood, then fell to his belly. He tried to crawl, gasping for air, smearing a red swathe across the floor as he did.


    Felix tried to rise, but two men shoved him back down into his seat by the shoulders.


    Finoldo took a knee over the dying lord and plunged his hand into his neck, probing within. The lord shivered and convulsed, gagging and unable to scream. Then, he stopped moving, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.


    Finoldo stood, shaking a bloody hand he wiped with a cloth from his pocket, then looked back to Lorenzo and shook his head.


    Lorenzo slammed his hands on the table. “What did you do, witch?”


    “I cured him,” said Haddie.


    “Impossible!” spat Lorenzo. “Then why keep him like that?”


    “The lord was a bastard. He tormented us. Beat us. Threatened us. We liked him better this way.”


    “You’ve made an expensive mistake. Where is the serpent?”


    “Dead. It fled from him and I burned it.”


    Lorenzo fumed, then leaned back in his chair.


    “We’ve invested much in bringing these border lords into our court. Doing it without fanfare or undue attention,” Lorenzo looked to Felix, these next words were for him, “working our way inwards, towards Rome—until we could be sure we had the necessary numbers to overwhelm the Papal loyalists.”


    “What are you speaking of, Lorenzo? What is this?” asked Felix.


    “It is a gift, DeWinter. It bestows ancient knowledge, forgotten secrets. If you knew what we knew, you wouldn’t protest. But, you are not the temperament for our ilk, and you will not be blessed with the enlightenment of the serpent.”


    “Devilry,” Felix spat under his breath.


    “But this one!” said Lorenzo, rising from his chair and pacing over to Ollie. “How would you like to be the new lord of Schloss Reichter?”


    The boy, still held fast by Grimmand, squirmed. Lorenzo laid his hand on the boy’s head and tousled his hair.


    “Are you of noble birth?”


    The boy shook his head.


    “And crippled, I see… No, mayhaps not.”


    Lorenzo shoved a dagger into the boy’s belly, drawing the knife up until the boy was on the tips of his toes. Ollie was released and fell. He gasped only for a moment before he went still.


    “We will find a new lord, new servants, and new criminals to man it,” said Lorenzo. He pointed the bloody dagger to Felix and Haddie. “Fetch a post. We will burn these two.”


    Felix had enough. He tried to rise to his feet again, but was pinned in place. He looked to Haddie, who the men had woefully underestimated. She moved like lightning, drawing the honey knife hidden beneath her dress, and stabbed one of the men holding Felix in the groin. He cupped his manhood and fell to his knees.


    Felix elbowed the other, then with all his strength, flipped the long table, sending the men across the table backpedaling.


    Felix reached to draw his sword, but Grimmand came up from his flank and landed a heavy blow across his face. Right in the bee sting. Felix winced. Haddie moved to stab him, but he backhanded her with such ferocity that she fell to the ground and dropped her dagger, which clattered as it skid across the stone floor.


    “Fuck it, kill them now,” ordered Lorenzo, whipping his riding cloak around his back and circling the table towards Felix.


    Finoldo and another man made their way around the left side of the upturned table towards Haddie, who lay on the ground, while Grimmand, Lorenzo, and a compatriot approached from his right. They could not overcome these odds.


    Felix thought fast. He had one chance.


    Retrieving the pistol from the pouch on his belt, he held the gun aloft and pointed it at Lorenzo.


    “Tell your men to step back,” commanded Felix.


    Lorenzo looked shocked, and beset with a fear Felix had never seen from him. For a man who had always oozed with an unearned confidence, this was a transformation.


    “Where did you get that?” said Lorenzo, raising his hands in front of him.


    “I took it from Ruprecht,” said Felix.


    The men paused. They looked to Lorenzo. They all knew the name, and they knew to fear the weapon. This conspiracy had deep roots.


    Felix withdrew his sword with his free hand, and held the two weapons out, directing the point of each at the men around him and moving towards Haddie. She rose behind him, and held his arm. They began to back up together, heading for the exit to the courtyard.


    Lorenzo spoke, “we can''t let you leave. Not knowing what you know.” Lorenzo’s sneer turned into a smirk. “And that weapon isn’t even loaded, is it, DeWinter?”


    Grimmand was the first to act. He lunged at Felix, aiming to bat away the blade with his own long sword. Felix countered, and instead of allowing the blades to clash, threw the pistol at his face, staggering him. Felix spun and drove his sword into the other, the blade erupting from his back, and kicking him off the blade with his foot.


    Haddie scrambled backwards as Felix ducked just in time to avoid a sweeping strike from Grimmand’s sword. Felix doubled his hands on the hilt of his smallsword, and using all his strength, met Grimmand’s blade as their hilts locked and forced the oversized veteran back.


    Lorenzo stepped forward to attack Felix’s exposed back with his own blade. Haddie crawled to her knife and retrieved it just in time, hurling it at Lorenzo where it dug deep into his side. Lorenzo spun in shock, and reached uselessly to pull the knife out.


    “Honey bitch!” spat Lorenzo.


    Finoldo, true to form, awkwardly launched himself at Haddie. She grabbed him in return and flipped him onto his back. Green in combat, and fumbling in his own armor, Haddie had no trouble grabbing Finoldo by the hair and smashing the back of his head into the hard stone floor. There was a loud crack. The other soldier grabbed at her shoulder to tear her off, and she bit deep into his skin, drawing blood. The man howled in pain.


    Felix was still locked with Grimmand, and was swiftly being overpowered. He was a larger man, thick and heavy, a scarred veteran of countless wars. In every way a match for Felix. Grimmand pushed his head forward and bared his teeth, spittle erupting between each rotten tooth. Behind him, Lorenzo pulled back his sword for a powerful thrust. Although this time Felix had no recourse, he could not defend himself locked with Grimmand. He would be skewered.


    And then, like an avenging angel erupting from God knows where, Caesar the goat headbutted Lorenzo and sent him crashing to the ground, his sword falling from his hands. Caesar kicked up onto its back legs and shook its head, displaying its mighty set of spiraling horns.


    “Caesar!” cried Felix. Then he turned to Grimmand, who was momentarily distracted by the scene. Kicking Grimmand in the knee, causing him to stagger, Felix broke from their clash and pierced the veteran in the shoulder near the neck, pushing his sword down through his chest. Grimmand only exhaled in a deep breath as he fell to his knees, and began punching at Felix, refusing to die.


    Felix pulled the sword from the man in a streak of blood, and let him fall. Training the blade on Lorenzo, who had just recovered from Caesar’s attack, Felix moved towards the man.


    Felix shot a glance at Caesar. “Protect Haddie.” And as if it understood, it clopped away in glee to go gore the Italian screaming in pain, still caught in Haddie’s jaw.


    Lorenzo sat back, bleeding from the arm where Haddie’s honey knife had hit its mark.


    “Go on, kill me. It won’t make a difference.”


    “What is the serpent?” Said Felix, his sword held out.


    “Come closer and I’ll tell you….”


    Felix, in a moment of pity for the wounded man on the ground, let his sword drop. Lorenzo took full advantage, and pulling the honey knife from his side, lunged at Felix. But he didn’t have the angle, and he was too slow for Felix. With one sure swing of his sword, Felix sliced the man’s neck, nearly severing his head from his shoulders.


    Lorenzo’s nearly headless body paused for a moment on its knees. In the bloody, bubbling wreckage of his neck slithered a white worm. It was slender and long, the size of a garfish. Its head was flat like an arrowhead, and it had a gasping mouth like a sucking leech. It squirmed in the air, looking for the missing head which flopped back over the shoulders.


    Felix swung his sword, slicing off the worm’s arrow-like head. The creature recoiled, and the rest slithered back into the bloody neck.


    Haddie rushed over to Felix, her mouth bloody—although not her blood. “You have to burn it.”


    Felix looked over to the men Haddie had dispatched. Caesar was still jumping on top of a mangled face, the gored man now a soup of bone and teeth. Beside him, poor Finoldo had succumbed to the first blow. The other man, who Haddie had stabbed in the groin, was dead in a sea of blood. She must have hit an artery. Not bad, thought Felix.


    Haddie retrieved a jar from the floor and captured the head of the white worm, which was still alive. “They grow. Cut them into a million pieces, and you will only have a million more.”


    “What are they?” asked Felix.


    “The hell should I know? They only came and put one in my lord’s head three months ago. They hate the honey, and I was able to expel it. But he would not do it willingly. Hence, the madness.”


    “I knew it was you.”


    “How so?”


    “Oleander has no nectar. Bees do not harvest from them.”


    “So what now? You burn me as a witch?”


    “No. You’re free to go wherever you please.”


    “I told you, already. There is no place for me to go.”


    Caesar walked up behind Haddie, bleating loudly.


    Haddie smiled, the blood still pooling from her lips. “Caesar said I can come with you.”


    “Is that right?” Felix looked to Caesar, its hooves slick with blood.


    Felix smirked. They made quite the pair.


    “Fine,” said Felix, lifting an accusing finger, “but I warn you, betray or poison me again, and I will not stay my hand.”


    Haddie beamed with excitement.


    “But first,” said Haddie. She retrieved her knife from the dead Lorenzo and walked over to the rope holding the corona aloft, and cut it, sending it crashing onto the overturned table and catching fire to the hall, then tossed the glass jar into the flames. “I never liked this place.”


    Felix laughed.


    Haddie chose a horse from among those left in the courtyard by Lorenzo and his men. It was a strong choice, a white Arabian.


    “Where are we going?” asked Haddie.


    “I still have a mission. I’m heading to Normandy.”


    “I hear Paris is beautiful this time of year. Maybe we can visit.”


    “If I can help it,” said Felix, “we will go nowhere near Paris.”


    “A true romantic,” said Haddie with a smile.


    They descended down the mountain path, a curious trio, as the castle blazed.