A Witch's Voyage

By Aimee Oakland-Smith and Bethany Oakland

In 1603 King James I came to the English throne fuelling the nation's violent and obsessive witch hunts. Approximately 500 people were convicted and executed for witchcraft in England, 90% of them being women.

Meanwhile, across the Atlantic Ocean, African's were being delivered from their homeland to the island of Jamaica and enslaved on the Spanish plantations there.

Elizabeth, an outcast peasant girl, is faced with the brutality of human nature both at home and abroad as she tries to escape her heritage. Will she succeed and find peace amongst the maroons in the salvation of the Jamaican jungle?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9781446689950

Book preview

Chapter 1- A Stranger on the Road

Summer 1598

Elizabeth laid still in the long summer grass. It was still a lush green, though it hadn’t rained for at least two weeks now, so the ground was perfectly dry for laying on without dampening her dress. She looked up at the few wispy white clouds as they floated gently through the flawless cerulean sky. The sun was high, warming the flesh of her bare arms and face, and a sweet scent of wild summer flowers filled her with delight, causing her to momentarily forget her reason for being here. That is until the groan in her tummy reminded her that it had been two days since her last meal.

The faint pounding of hooves caught her attention. She lifted her head to see two figures further down the road beside which she laid. Turning onto her front she peered through the long blades of grass, like a tigress stalking her prey, as she watched them draw nearer. A reluctant sigh escaped her as she clambered to her feet, brushing out her long fawn skirt -not that it made much difference, between the mud stains and tatty hems- and picking up her old brown, leather satchel.

On one side of the road, the land stretched out for miles with a vivid purple carpet of heather. On the other side tall grass rippled gently in the breeze; it appeared as though there was nothing but grass and heather right to the point at which the world ended, though she knew better. She knew of gorges and rivers and cliffs nearby, unseen by the unknowing eye.

The figures grew closer. She took a deep breath and stepped out into the middle of the track, stopping to block the way for the travellers. She could now see they were both male, dressed in fine coats and shiny boots. One wore a hat that flopped to one side but the other displayed a thick head of glossy dark hair, trimmed into a tidy arrangement and complementing his neat and trimmed beard. The beast between his thighs was lily white and clearly of high breading; she had no need to come away from this empty handed.

The pounding grew louder as the horses drew nearer, gradually slowing from a canter to a gentle trot.

Woah! the hatless horseman man called as both horses became unsettled of the blockage in the road. Seeming intrigued by her presence, he looked over the top of his mount’s head as he pulled at the reigns to stop it from jolting, but the anxious creature insisted on circling around the other stationary chestnut mare, as his rider fixated his gaze on the long, blonde haired young woman in the road.

The other rider was much older, of a heavier build and looked to Elizabeth with a disgusted wrinkle across his nose.

Do you need some assistance my lady? called the younger man.

I- no! she replied.

Finally, having halted his steed, the dark-haired stranger dismounted and approached the unmoving young woman.

Elizabeth, somewhat lost for words, watched him intently.

I have herbs… to sell! she explained eventually, lifting the flap of her satchel and displaying bundles of assorted wild garlic, fennel, nettle and mint. She watched as he peered into the satchel admiring her collection. His nose was prominent with a high bridge between his dark eyes and the lines of his forehead were damp with perspiration.

Nothing but a bunch of weeds! the older man snarled from his saddle. Get on with you!

The younger man lifted his gaze to meet hers, where they froze but for a moment. Elizabeth softened, her brow creased slightly as she examined his face, looking for the familiarity she’d found in his eyes; did she know this man? Did he know her? She felt as though she should… or maybe it was that one day she would. She wondered if he had felt it too, as he seemed to remain fixated while the older man continued to grumble. Both ignoring him, the younger man now looked over her dishevelled appearance.

I’ll take them all! he said as he returned to his horse, rummaged within the pocket of the saddle bags and pulled out a gold coin she didn’t recognise.

It’s large money! the man said seeing Elizabeth’s quizzical expression. Twenty shillings. She couldn’t help but trust him, so she pulled out each of the bundles and handed them over, fumbling as they made the awkward transaction with not enough hands. The man held the bundles pressed against his chest so not to drop them but continued to hold Elizabeth’s gaze as she thanked him, curtsied politely and stepped aside.

He put the bundles into the saddle bags, and in one swift movement he slipped his foot into the stirrup and swung his other leg over the rear of the horse and seated himself comfortably in the saddle.

Farewell! he called, nodding his head, as Elizabeth watched both horses tread past her and continue down the track.

Though the sun was still high in the sky, there was no way she would reach Helmsley, and return before sundown. It would be another meal of whatever could be gathered from the surrounding moorlands to surpass their hunger today, and tomorrow she would walk the half day journey, bringing back bread and grains and whatever else she could with the money she had earned from the generous dark-haired rider.

Chapter 2- No Longer a Stranger

Her feet ached already, and she had so far only travelled one way. She dragged her tired body around the market stalls of Helmsley village, admiring their goods for sale. Wines, furs, jewels, ribbons, silk, bread. A burst of energy drew her across the way towards the stall displaying bread, baked in all shapes and sizes. Some twisted into knots, others sprinkled with poppy seeds. Some small rolls, other large loaves. The warm enticing scent set her taste buds on fire.

I’ll take that large loaf please, she asked the man behind the stall. He was tall, balding, with a dark beard and an off-white apron around his bulging tummy. He looked her up and down disbelievingly.

You got the funds to pay for it?! he questioned abruptly in his broad Yorkshire accent.

Elizabeth reached into her satchel and brought out the coin, yesterday’s customer had given her. She handed it to the baker who stared at it bewildered.

WHERE THE ‘ELL DID THE LIKES OF YOU GET MONEY LIKE THAT?! he bellowed. Heads turned to see the commotion and Elizabeth found herself shrinking into herself.

I earned it, she explained shyly.

YOU BLOODY STOLE IT! the man accused.

No!... I didn’t!... I sold herbs-

NO AMOUNT O’ HERBS COULD MAKE MONEY LIKE THAT!

Frustrated and panicked, Elizabeth felt tears beginning to gather in her lower lids. Not now, she thought, desperate not to show her vulnerability any more than necessary.

’ERE I DON’T WANT STOLEN MONEY ON MY STALL! continued the baker, throwing it back to her. It bounced away on the hardened ground forcing her to chase it, snatching at it but not catching it until a shiny boot finally pinned it to the ground.

Elizabeth followed the coin to her knees waiting for the boot to lift and give her back her earnings, though realising its value was completely useless to her, if she could not purchase so much as a loaf of bread. The boot lifted and she picked up the coin and got to her feet ready to thank the man, silhouetted in the mid-morning sun.

What is going on here? he asked, holding out his hand to support her as she rose to her feet.

He won’t take the money! Elizabeth explained as she met the level of his eyes. It was the same man who had purchased the herbs the day before.

You… you tried to use this to buy a mere loaf of bread?! the man smirked.

Elizabeth’s forehead creased; she was clearly disturbed by his acknowledgement of her inability to understand large currency. He saw the offence she had taken and took a deep breath, releasing it in an irritated fashion.

Come with me! he instructed, holding her by the elbow to guide her.

Excuse me sir, she resisted, pulling her elbow from his grasp. But you don’t even know my name, nor I yours… and I may not be knowledgeable of such things as money, but I know not to go wondering off with strange men no matter how deep their pockets are!

The man raised his eyebrows as he watched her speak and he could see, though she spoke confidently, she was slightly anxious of what his reaction might be to such a tone.

Lord Timothy Cedrick Williams! he held out his hand to shake hers. She stepped back raising her arm in defence, as though expecting his fist.

I was hoping to take you into the dressmakers over there, he gestured to a small shop across the way before returning his hand to the gap between them. I thought we could sort you out with a new dress for that coin… and then you could use the change to buy the bread.

Her eyes flickered between his, the dressmakers and the bread stall. The other people around had gone on with their business now, hurrying around the small town with no regard to her grumbling tummy.

Elizabeth, she informed him as she finally slipped her hand into his. He brought her fingers to his lips, not taking his eyes off hers and gave them a gentle kiss. His lips were warm and soft, and she felt a blush begin to redden her cheeks, though she withheld the girlish smile she felt beginning to grow upon her lips and retook her hand, stepping passed him towards the dress makers.

Chapter 3- Outlaw

The pair stepped out of the dressmakers, her in the first new gown she had ever owned. It was nothing special, compared to the fine gowns in the window and worn by the passing ladies; a long-sleeved cream shirt, black bodice -held together by a brown lace that threaded through holes either side of the centre- and a long brown wool skirt. She had even afforded new boots to make her journey back much more comfortable than her bare-footed walk here. Though now a sense of guilt was beginning to rise from her abdomen; she had spent so much of the money on herself, while her family eagerly awaited the food she had come here to buy.

As he pulled the door of the shop closed behind him Timothy saw that her new well, fitted attire showed just how thin she really was. A tiny waist, bony hips and a prominent collar bone peeking from the top of her blouse.

I’m absolutely famished, he announced. I was going to eat at the tavern before heading home. Would you like to join me?

Elizabeth looked to the position of the sun, if she was to make it back before dark she had to leave soon.

Thank you, my lord. You've been most kind, Elizabeth replied suspecting his efforts so not to patronise her. But I have to buy what I came for before setting off home. It’s such a long walk, I must leave soon.

Well, it would be terribly boring to eat alone, he said. If you would do me the pleasure of accompanying me, then we will get the rest of the items on your list, and you can ride home with me… It’s on my way anyway, if it is near where I saw you yesterday.

As though he had commanded it to entice her, the smell of food wafted towards her, and her stomach growled.

It is my treat, said Timothy, seeing her glance to the money in her palm, now smaller in value and much easier for her to judge against the price of the items she needed to buy. She wasn’t usually one for accepting charity, though something told her she had been putting her loved ones first long enough to deserve a hot cooked meal with a beautiful stranger.

Thank you, she said, nodding lightly.

My pleasure, Timothy held out his arm for her to take; having never so much as touched a man that wasn’t of her blood relation, she cautiously accepted, enjoying the warm energy that passed between them.

Inside the tavern, Timothy ordered them hot meat pies with potatoes and vegetables and provided a tankard of ale each.

Are you from this area originally? he asked, hoping it wasn’t the wrong question, clearly, she was not accustomed to travelling far.

Not far away, she replied. Seeing his eyebrows raise in surprise she felt she must continue. York, was all she felt able to say before taking the first sip of her ale, in a bid to delay her explanation.

So how did you come to be living on the further side of Helmsley?... Who do you live with? he pressed.

Elizabeth took another sip of ale. My father… was outlawed, she began, flickering her eyes between his and the surface of the table, wondering if he would cast her aside at this explanation.

Outlawed?

She hung her head shamefully. He was part of the rebellion, against the Queen. She looked up to see Timothy’s thick dark brows raised once more. He didn’t mean to, he was tricked, which is why he wasn’t hung… My brother however, her eyes dropped to the table once more and there was silence as he processed this information.

My father’s injuries mean he can’t leave the ca- house!

Timothy’s eyes widened as he continued to watch her expression. He pressed his lips into a thin line and shifted his gaze around the room. She wondered if he was looking for anyone that might judge him for eating with the daughter of a traitor.

That’s why it’s my job to provide for them, while my mother takes care of the younger ones.

Timothy remained silent as their meals arrived. Steam rose from the crusty surface of the pie and a porcelain jug of thick dark gravy was placed on the table between them. They both reached out for it at the same time and their fingers brushed creating an awkward moment as they each offered the jug to the other first. Elizabeth took her turn and then Timothy, and they both tucked into the delicious food.

Elizabeth ate ravenously, and he could see this was the first proper meal she had eaten in a long time. Even when there was a commotion at the far end of the tavern, nothing could break her attention away from her plate. Being blessed from birth with privileges of wealth, health, and social standing, had somehow given him a natural instinct to want to help those in need. Though he could already tell she would be reluctant to hand-outs.

You have younger siblings? he asked finally.

Yes, two sisters.

Are they much younger than you?

Mary is 13, Sarah is 6. Mother was pregnant when- she shifted her head to one-side unable to speak much more on the painful subject. She never got to meet our brother. She knows nothing of the life we had before.

After another lengthy silence Timothy finally spoke again.

As a lawyer I cannot possibly be seen assisting an outlaw, he said.

Elizabeth met his eye and instantly dropped her gaze again, preparing herself to be shunned from his presence as she often was by those of high social standing.

But my wife has given me the task of finding a governess. To help raised our children.

Wife, she thought. Clearly, she had misunderstood the connection between them. Of course, he would be married. He was obviously much older than she, at least thirty with fine lines in the corners of his eyes and mouth. He had a presence about him that was mesmerising, an energy that filled the room, who wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity to marry such a man.

"If you are experienced in taking care of children… then maybe you could fill the vacancy."

Now it was her brows that lifted. But my family... they rely on me.

Well, you would have to live in the house with us of course, he explained, immediately vanquishing any consideration she may have had about accepting. But you would earn a substantial amount more than selling herbs at the side of the road. And there would be nothing stopping you from borrowing a horse and delivering your earnings and some food supplies to your family weekly.

Elizabeth sat back to process his words, it would be a whole new life for her, for them all.

I would have to ask my parents.

Of course … We will go and get the rest of the items you need. Then we will stop to deliver them and ask your parents on the way.

Refusing to allow herself to get excited about the prospect she drank back the rest of her ale and nodded, with a slight hint of an involuntary smile on her face. Then they pushed back their chairs -the legs scraping on the wooden floor of the tavern- and left.

Chapter 4- A Delivery

Leaving Lord Williams resting his beautiful white horse near the roadside, Elizabeth trod by the carpets of heather, vanishing as the hill curved, concealing the ravine. Cautious of the rocks, made slippery by the passing river, she edged along the narrow path; to her right was a small but sheer drop towards a rocky riverbed.

Finally, she arrived at the cave that was her family home. Her mother was selecting wood from a large pile of branches, Elizabeth and her sisters had previously collected and left to dry, and adding them to the open fire, above which a black, cast-iron cauldron was hung. Steam rose from the top of it though there was no enticing aroma; it was but water bubbling within.

Her younger sisters, both fair haired as she, were drawing patterns in the dirt with twigs, while her father sat on a boulder at the far side of the cave. His crippled left leg was stretched out before him and a large branch -his only walking aid- to his side. He was slicing into a large silver fish, fresh from the passing river and stinking the whole area before it had even been added to the cooking pot. It was a good size compared to their usual catch, though still not enough to feed the five of them.

Father. Elizabeth spoke gently though the acoustics of the cave amplified her voice, lifting each of the occupant’s heads from their business. They each looked towards her with eager anticipation of the delicious delights she might have brought, but instantly saw the first of her purchases and their expressions contorted, clearly wondering if there would be enough to feed them all in the canvas basket she carried.

Ellie, he said finally. Before he could begin to ask questions, her sisters gathered around her, tugging at her skirt admiringly.

Where did yer get that? said Mary, looking upon her wide eyed.

You look beautiful! admired Sarah, innocently.

D’ yer not think it’s a bit selfish of yer t’ be spending so much on yerself? questioned her father pressing one end of his stick into the ground and pulling himself up. Then continued, limping towards her, without allowing her to answer. I hope yer at least brought back yer old clothes for yer sisters!

I did, she said turning the bag out gently onto the cave floor, exposing her gathered, worn clothes, the loaf of bread wrapped in cloth, cheese wrapped in paper, ten fresh green apples, a turnip and a bag of oats. She watched as their eyes lit up.

My goodness! gasped her mother. How on earth did yer afford all o’ that!

Her father had raised his free hand to the lower half of his bearded face and pulled it downwards as he feasted his eyes upon the goods.

I hope you don’t mind me buying the dress, she said sheepishly. The baker wouldn’t accept the coin, but I made sure there was enough to still get what we needed. There’s even a little left over. She handed her father what remained of the money.

Err… no love, her father beamed, reaching out to touch her shoulder lovingly. Her mother was already gathering the items to store them away from the heat of the fire. Yer did good! Yer deserve it... So good in fact that I’m wondering how the five of us are ever going t’ eat all this food before it spoils!

Elizabeth took a deep breath before she spoke. Four! she corrected, shifting her eyes between each of his.

His brows came closer together as his blue eyes focussed on hers. What tha’ sayin’ lass?

I met someone… a man… a Lord.

His face creased further, and the others reverted their attention to the conversation again.

So wha’… yer jus’ gona abandon us?... Yer family?

It’s not like that… he’s offered me a job, a home, a wage!

We need yer here! And we don't need no Lord's charity after how me and yer brother were treated! her father exclaimed.

He's really kind. We would never have afforded all of this without his help!

I SAID NO!

I can bring you food and money!

Without warning the back of his hand struck the side of her face with enough force to knock her sideways and hurtling towards the stone of the cave wall. She rested a moment as she gripped her stinging face.

DON’T BOTHER! he bellowed.

Tears were welling in her eyes once again but this time she couldn’t stop them from falling. She rested her back against the wall as she looked back to her mother and sisters who stood frozen, their faces pleading. She waited for an input from her mother, the woman who had carried her inside her and birthed her into this world; surely, she wanted more for her own flesh and blood than the existence they were currently enduring. But other than a sorrowful glint in her eye she said nothing, and neither did Elizabeth as she slunk around the edge of the wall and disappeared back up the side of the gorge hearing her father’s voice yelling outbursts about fine dining and warm beds.

Chapter 5- Welcome

Elizabeth stirred, realising she had nodded off to sleep resting back against the solid torso of her new employer. The summer sky had darkened, the air had cooled, and she could smell the salt of the nearby North Sea. She tried desperately to force her tired body into motion, to muster just enough energy to take in her new surroundings and show politeness when she was greeted by Lady Williams and the rest of the household. Though as Lord Williams assisted her down from their mount, there was only one figure that greeted them, her path illuminated by the light of a single candle. A new face she would never have believed existed until seeing her with her own eyes; skin so dark she was almost camouflaged against the night sky except for the whites of her eyes and angelic attire.

Elizabeth watched wide eyed as the woman neared and Timothy stabled his horse.

Welcome home sir. The woman spoke excellent English despite clearly being of foreign origin, if not for the colour of her skin, then for the roundness and accentuation of her words. She looked at Elizabeth almost mirroring her stunned expression as she approached.

Elizabeth, this is Afya, our housekeeper. Afya, Elizabeth, the new governess.

Afya’s brows raised as the dark centres of her eyes moved from Timothy to Elizabeth and back again, her thick lips subtly pursed as she took a breath. Eventually she gave a nod of acknowledgement before asking; Would you be taking supper?

No, not for me, Timothy gestured to Elizabeth.

No, thank you, agreed Elizabeth, her eyes fixed on Afya.

I think we are both more tired than hungry. Afya, will you show Elizabeth to her room?

Afya silently nodded again then looked to Elizabeth before turning back towards the house. Elizabeth looked back to Timothy, clearly a little anxious. He gave her a nod, a silent comfort to calm her before tilting his head, in gesture for her to follow the exotic woman and her light.

She had heard her father talk of the savages of Africa, being brought to England and 'tamed' so they could serve the upper class. As the gravel crunched beneath their feet, she admired the dark, tight curls that strayed from Afya’s bonnet and her curvaceous figure.

The entrance hall was dark though she could smell the presence of the fine oak flooring and polished furniture. A board on the first stair creaked as Afya placed her foot upon it and began her ascent. Elizabeth followed close behind.

Where is Lady Williams? Elizabeth whispered in a bid to break the awkwardness between them.

Sleeping, of course, Afya spoke harshly. Lady Williams needs her rest! she explained as they arrived at the door of what Elizabeth hoped would be her bedroom.

Afya opened the door and looked back to Elizabeth with apologetic eyes. It will be a little dusty. I was not expecting your arrival. Tomorrow, I will clean it. She made her way to a table where an unlit candle was already in its holder and shared her light with its wick.

Elizabeth stepped in, looking around she could see it was not a huge room, though compared to the stone floor of a cave where she had been sleeping for the past six years, she felt nothing but gratitude. The bed looked extremely inviting and through the tiny wooden framed window she could see the silver slither of the new moon and the sparkle of the star lit night.

Afya had already made her way back to the doorway but halted casually and turned to Elizabeth, recognising the look of relief upon her face. Her expression softened then; she knew that look well.

Sure, I cannot be bringing you anything?

Elizabeth fixed her gaze to Afya’s; if they were going to be working together and living together, she might as well make the effort to drop her own boundaries. And looking into the eyes of the sleepy woman before her, in her floppy bonnet and night gown, a shawl around her shoulders, she didn’t appear to be savage at all.

Elizabeth awoke to the morning sun streaming through the tiny window from which she had spent the first hours of her stay, gazing out at the nights sky as inky clouds began to blanket the diamond dusting above. All she had seen of the landscape until now were the silhouettes of trees on the horizon; now there were miles of open green fields stretching out, framed by dry stone walls and thick, lush foliage.

The bed she had slept in was luxurious and sturdy; the mattress tempting her to stay a little longer and pretend she hadn’t heard the clattering of pans and crockery below her or smelled the warm aroma of freshly baked bread and fried fish. But her stomach growled again, and she was yet to meet the mistress of this house and the children whom she was brought here to govern.

She dressed quickly, tidied her hair in the mirror which sat upon a dresser by the window, and set off down the creaky staircase. Chattering and shuffling and clinking of metal on porcelain came from the other side of a door off the entrance hall. It was open a crack allowing a thin streak of light to cross the wooden floor. As she arrived in front of it an anxiety suddenly bubbled inside her; she knew nothing of these people and yet she had abandoned her own family, travelled miles away from her home and nestled herself into their lives. Timothy had seemed very kind, but it didn’t mean he was, it didn’t mean his wife was or that the children wouldn’t hate her. Perhaps they didn’t want a governess.

She herself had been raised by a governess before her father was outlawed. As strict and loveless as the woman had been -ordering her and her siblings around as though their childhood was a matter of duty to be endured- the main reason she had resented her had always been the fact that she was not her own mother. What if the young Williams children hated her for the same reason? No matter how fun and loving she intended to be, could she ever be good enough to pacify that same resentment?

She pushed the door gently, but it creaked as she did so, immediately causing four faces to turn and look at her. Lord Williams was seated at the far end of the rectangular table looking directly at her. Serving food onto his plate, her mahogany skin standing out amongst the others was Afya, watching her with the same sullen stare. To Timothy’s right was an older man wearing rather informal attire; though he was clearly of local heritage, his skin had been reddened in patches by the sun.

Sitting on the end of the table nearest and having twisted in her seat to see her, was a woman not much older than she. She wore a beautiful blue gown with a square neckline, similar to the ones she had seen in the store the previous day. Her dark hair was fastened up into plaits and twisted around the crown of her head and her blue eyes were piercing against her pale complexion.

You must be Elizabeth. She smiled kindly.

Elizabeth, this is my wife, Mildred, Timothy gestured his hand towards his wife as though it wasn’t obvious. And this is Fred, our gardener. You’ve already met Afya.

Elizabeth looked around the faces feeling a little overwhelmed. Pleased to make your acquaintance Ma’am… urm… Mi Lady, Elizabeth said as she gave a gently curtsy.

Lady William’s gave a little giggle before saying, Please, call me Milly. Join us for breakfast, I’m so eager to get to know you.

We want you to be part of the family here Elizabeth, explained Timothy as she edged around the room gazing over the delights set on the table. Afya had already disappeared back into the kitchen and brought out another plate to set before Elizabeth with a large cod laid across it, fried