and allowed the heat from his hearth to wash over us.
George and Will stood when we entered, and George crossed the room to embrace me. Over his shoulder, I could see Will and Martha looking into each other’s eyes, and they clasped hands briefly. George called for spiced wine, and soon the cold had been banished from our bones.
For a time we talked of the smaller news of the city and nation, avoiding the darker developments that plagued York of late. Of course the brutal winter was near the top of everyone’s concerns.
“This afternoon a boy walked across the Ouse,” Will said. “He went all the way from the King’s Staith to the Queen’s. He said he heard the ice crack once, but it held firm.”
George nodded. “And I heard the Thames has frozen as well. You should think such happenings would warn the Parliament-men that the Lord does not own their cause. The closer they come to overthrowing His Majesty, the more terrible God’s wrath becomes.”
I could tell from the expression on her face that Martha was about to argue the point, and I shook my head slightly. Such arguments could be found in both of our warring factions, as both the King’s men and Parliament’s believed God had a hand in everyday affairs. The victor in every battle took it as proof that God fought on their side. Strangely enough, the losers never interpreted defeat as God’s rejection of their cause: They simply claimed that the Lord was testing them as He had tested Israel.
Of course Martha rejected all such arguments, and I could see that she wanted nothing more than to dispute them with George. But this was hardly the time or place for her to contest the finer points of theology with a gentleman. I might tolerate—or even welcome—such tussles, but serious men such as George never would.
When we made our way into the dining hall I marveled at the wealth it displayed. The chair coverings and tablecloth were of a rich red silk, and the golden candle-branch held a dozen or more tapers, which set the room to glowing. The servants refilled our glasses with red wine and we settled into a marvelous meal of roast fowl, beef, and other spiced meats. As we ate, I asked George how the Council meeting had gone.
A sly smile spread across his lips, and he nodded triumphantly. “I was going to save the sweetest news for dessert, but you have forced my hand. We have won, I think. I have bested both your brother Joseph and that harpy Rebecca Hooke. We have nothing to fear from them.”
The three of us stared at George in amazement.
“How is this possible?” I managed at last. “This is wonderful. What did you do?”
George settled back in his chair, clearly pleased by our reaction and enjoying his moment as cock of all the city. “Well, it cost me more money and favors than I’d care to recount, but I convinced a majority of the Aldermen to support a measure against Joseph.”
“What do you mean?” Will seemed no less shocked than I. Could our problems have been solved by a few well-placed bribes?
“I simply offered a new motion to the Council. I agreed that the city faced a dire threat from witches, but pointed out that until we discovered Hester Jackson, neither Joseph nor Rebecca had ever interrogated a witch.” George stopped and smiled beatifically.
“And?” I demanded.
“I suggested that we look outside the city for someone with more experience hunting witches. I convinced the Council to send for a man named Matthew Hopkins. He has led the witch-hunts in the south, and had great success.”
“So Joseph will not oversee the search?” I asked. “And Rebecca is no longer Searcher?” My heart thrilled at the news.
“Aye,” George replied. “And there is more. I had them name you as the city’s Chief Witch Searcher. When Mr. Hopkins arrives, you will be his assistant. You will search the city’s women for the Witch’s Mark.”
Silence settled across the table as George smiled broadly and awaited further praise.
George and Will stood when we entered, and George crossed the room to embrace me. Over his shoulder, I could see Will and Martha looking into each other’s eyes, and they clasped hands briefly. George called for spiced wine, and soon the cold had been banished from our bones.
For a time we talked of the smaller news of the city and nation, avoiding the darker developments that plagued York of late. Of course the brutal winter was near the top of everyone’s concerns.
“This afternoon a boy walked across the Ouse,” Will said. “He went all the way from the King’s Staith to the Queen’s. He said he heard the ice crack once, but it held firm.”
George nodded. “And I heard the Thames has frozen as well. You should think such happenings would warn the Parliament-men that the Lord does not own their cause. The closer they come to overthrowing His Majesty, the more terrible God’s wrath becomes.”
I could tell from the expression on her face that Martha was about to argue the point, and I shook my head slightly. Such arguments could be found in both of our warring factions, as both the King’s men and Parliament’s believed God had a hand in everyday affairs. The victor in every battle took it as proof that God fought on their side. Strangely enough, the losers never interpreted defeat as God’s rejection of their cause: They simply claimed that the Lord was testing them as He had tested Israel.
Of course Martha rejected all such arguments, and I could see that she wanted nothing more than to dispute them with George. But this was hardly the time or place for her to contest the finer points of theology with a gentleman. I might tolerate—or even welcome—such tussles, but serious men such as George never would.
When we made our way into the dining hall I marveled at the wealth it displayed. The chair coverings and tablecloth were of a rich red silk, and the golden candle-branch held a dozen or more tapers, which set the room to glowing. The servants refilled our glasses with red wine and we settled into a marvelous meal of roast fowl, beef, and other spiced meats. As we ate, I asked George how the Council meeting had gone.
A sly smile spread across his lips, and he nodded triumphantly. “I was going to save the sweetest news for dessert, but you have forced my hand. We have won, I think. I have bested both your brother Joseph and that harpy Rebecca Hooke. We have nothing to fear from them.”
The three of us stared at George in amazement.
“How is this possible?” I managed at last. “This is wonderful. What did you do?”
George settled back in his chair, clearly pleased by our reaction and enjoying his moment as cock of all the city. “Well, it cost me more money and favors than I’d care to recount, but I convinced a majority of the Aldermen to support a measure against Joseph.”
“What do you mean?” Will seemed no less shocked than I. Could our problems have been solved by a few well-placed bribes?
“I simply offered a new motion to the Council. I agreed that the city faced a dire threat from witches, but pointed out that until we discovered Hester Jackson, neither Joseph nor Rebecca had ever interrogated a witch.” George stopped and smiled beatifically.
“And?” I demanded.
“I suggested that we look outside the city for someone with more experience hunting witches. I convinced the Council to send for a man named Matthew Hopkins. He has led the witch-hunts in the south, and had great success.”
“So Joseph will not oversee the search?” I asked. “And Rebecca is no longer Searcher?” My heart thrilled at the news.
“Aye,” George replied. “And there is more. I had them name you as the city’s Chief Witch Searcher. When Mr. Hopkins arrives, you will be his assistant. You will search the city’s women for the Witch’s Mark.”
Silence settled across the table as George smiled broadly and awaited further praise.
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