Vultures

Vultures – Chapter 2

Vultures – Chapter 3

Vultures – Chapter 4

Retribution

In spirit form, Nell lingered unseen and unheard while Vesta gathered willow bark for her benefactor.  She listened somewhat bemused as her apprentice invoked the ‘Power of Three’ then hurled words like poisonous darts from her mouth; words which were aimed at the Preacher.  Vesta and Amarelle were both still her students – even though neither could see her while she was in spirit form; Nell could guide them.  Her protégés, Vesta and Amarelle had both taken an oath.  They had sworn not to use their ‘powers’ to cause fear or harm.  However, Amarelle did deserve justice.  Perhaps, just this one time, she could let Vesta’s slip-up pass.  In a way, she wished she’d used such ingenuity for Amarelle’s justice.  Perhaps, this faux pas was more of a spell than a curse and one that she agreed was for the “good of the whole!”  As Nell faded away into the ethos she realized that Karma alone would decide the positive or negative results of this spell on Vesta and the Preacher.

His name was Xheng but no one could pronounce it properly.  They just referred to him as ‘Chin.’

Xheng was a sensei; a teacher but he had not yet achieved status of senpai – master of the healing arts as he had been taken hostage by pirates who invaded the shores of his homeland seeking slaves to sell.  When Captain Smith came upon the pirate ship called Black Betty, they’d done battle.  Xheng was one of the few survivors of the sunken Black Betty. He had been hauled aboard the rescuing ship by none other than the Captain himself.  Xheng had always been a fast learner.  He could speak some broken English.  “You heppa me?” he’d questioned the intrigued Captain.

Captain Smith was a scholar and gentleman.  Xheng dubbed ‘Chin,’ and Captain Smith became friends and colleagues on their voyage toward the America’s where they sailed to colonize a new land. That is how he’d come to be here, in this settlement entrusted with the care of a hostel while Captain Smith returned to his homeland for more settlers.  The Captain had been gone for three years nigh – this a year longer than his anticipated return.  He would be disturbed to see what had happened to the hostel.  The Preacher took charge of the colony before the sails of Captain Smith’s ship disappeared over the horizon.  Feigning ignorance of Xheng’s responsibility for the hostel; the Preacher turned it into a bawdy house disguised as a launderette.

The Preacher often visited the ‘launderette’ to interrogate and torture young women who were traded or stolen from neighboring colonies since they had been accused of sorcery. These accused women held as prisoners in the ‘launderette,’ were unusually pretty.  They were used as concubines.  And, the Preacher visited them often.

The Preacher was disgusted by Xheng.

“Chin… you useless bag of bones.  Heat more water for these filthy sheets and get my robes cleaned and delivered to the rectory before I beat the heathen out of you!”

Preacher thought Xheng was an Indian from a different tribe than the locals; a mere slave to Captain Smith.  He considered all natives to be witches in league with the Devil because their homes were in the wilds of the wilderness. In the Captains absence, the Preacher had declared war on all witches.  Xheng had to tread carefully around the Preacher because his life was in danger. The Preacher however, was terrified of Captain Smith and his own demise at the Captain’s hands should Xheng be missing upon his return.  Xheng did his best to stay in the shadows when the Preacher was near but his healing prowess was much sought after by the visitors of the bawdy even the Preacher.

“I feel as if hundreds of porcupine quills are embedded in my scrotum,” the sweat covered, red faced Preacher bellowed.  Xheng could almost see smoke billowing from the man’s nostrils like an enraged bull.

Xheng examined Preacher’s private area; erosions, pustules and discharge – it was obvious to the trained eye what Preacher’s problem was.  Xheng smiled at such divine punishment!  Preacher had venereal disease.

He knew a tincture to soothe the man’s pain.

Xheng had often traded healing remedies and herbs with Nell.  She had taught him much.  She gifted him once with a white rose.  She said, “This rose symbolizes the bone and therefore the memory, of all who lived the ways since the time of the beginning.”  Nell was knowledgeable about the healing arts.  She had also traded and learned, ‘healer’s secrets’ from natives who took seasonal homes in villages nearby, which she’d also shared with him.  Yes, Nell was sorely missed.

After the burning, Xheng watched from the shadows while women of the congregation drug Amarelle into the vestibule of the church while Vesta lay hidden in nearby trees.  As an act of homage to Nell, Xheng retrieved Vesta and kept her safe in his domicile.  Vesta had become his student – a master healer in her own right. She too would know the remedy for this disease.  She would know like he that every plant has a look alike or sister plant, this a valuable lesson taught by Nell.

Uncanny, how two plants can look so similar – take the Pellitory and Stinging Nettle for example. Both have healing properties, yet one enhances the libido while the other causes stinging blisters.  What calamity would follow if you confused them, Xheng wondered.

Yes, he knew the tincture to soothe the man’s pain.  But that man; saw him as an enslaved enemy.  Xheng was not the enemy yet he knew who the enemy was.

“I am more than shadow and bone.  These two plants are so similar; who will find fault with me for the confusion in herbs.”  Xheng took a rather large pinch of nettles and ground it into the salve.

“For those of you wrongly condemned,” he whispered, “and two more pinches – one for Vesta, the other for Amarelle.  May you feel the sting and blister of the Nettle’s fire; Preacher.”

Funny Vesta had not returned from gathering willow bark.  Xheng was sure he’d seen her mottled brown cape trotting through the alley later that afternoon only to disappear.  Maybe, he’d only imagined it to be her.

“Put tincture often,” Xheng bowed while handing the salve to the agonized Preacher.  “Please, more often, fast heal,” Xheng’s head bobbed as he bowed in humble acquiesce.  Preacher jerked the tincture from Xheng’s hand and stomped out the door of the launderette intent on administering his remedy as quickly as possible.

Amarelle removed the golden, protective rock called pyrite from a pocket of Vesta’s brown mottled cape and placed it inside her own before taking off the outer garment and dropping it at the edge of an unknown trail which led into the colony.  Amarelle knew Vesta would emerge here later to fetch it up.  Weak from hunger, she stumbled toward the Preacher’s manse.  So terrified at being discovered outside of the rectory; Amarelle was unaware of a rider observing her.  The rider sat on his mount due south of the colony on a well used wagon trail some distance away.  He was taking a curious interest in the girl and what had motivated her to remove her outer cloak.  The rider also watched in amusement as the Preacher obviously in pain trudged toward the same domicile.

“Interesting,” the rider grimaced as he urged his mount forward toward the lodging.

Vesta arrived at the door mere moments before Preacher.  This would be her undoing of that she was sure.  She started to cower as Preacher bellowed and raised his giant fist to pummel her.

“Halt,” a firm authoritative voice commanded.  The curt sharp command froze Preacher’s arm in mid air and he twisted his neck to see who had the audacity to speak to him such.

“Captain,” he stammered in recognition.

“What goes on with this waif?” Captain Smith demanded as he perused Amarelle’s beaten, bruised face and tattered, charred, blue cape.

“She’s my wife,” Preacher stuttered.

“Is this so?” Captain Smith gazed at Amarelle while he dismounted.

Amarelle’s eyes filled with tears, her mouth moved wordlessly then her knees buckled but the swift Captain caught her in his arms.

“Judging by this response, I believe a wife of yours she is not; Preacher.  She will be coming with me now.  However, I will return tomorrow as we have business to discuss.  I have heard tell of the happenings here, Sir.  And, I am not overjoyed upon the hearing of it.”

Captain Smith lifted Amarelle onto his horse, swung up behind her and rode away from Preacher.

Nell watched the proceedings unseen and unheard by closed minds and blind eyes.  Amarelle was vindicated.  This was for the ‘Good of the Whole’ for when things are meant to be, Karma works swiftly.  As far as Nell could ascertain, Vesta and Xheng’s retribution would be well served upon the Preacher, an incredulously evil man.  For when one dole’s out negativity, it is returned tenfold – this was justice!

“Work your magic porcupine,” Nell giggled and when she did, a murder of crows in a nearby grove erupted into loud accolades.

Preacher cussed obscenities at the birds, grabbed his groin and disappeared into his hovel.         

                   “Must apply salve,” he moaned.