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Episode 69

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Raji had no difficulty in removing the bulbs from the interior light and made his evacuation from the car as requested as soon it passed through the rise at the top of the hill.

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Mary and Martin continued their journey without interruption, parking the car just prior to entering the road proper when their headlights picked up a small tree and bush lined pathway that ran parallel with the road – then quickly made their way back to the farm on foot.

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Joseph had been right about the mood of the witches.  He had been convinced that the gun Raji had fired would have kept them at bay for as long as he was in the house, and when Raji and the others left, the witches would have had no further interest in them.  He also had calculated that their coven was so small now that they could not afford to have guards outside.  But he also knew that even if they did leave somebody on guard, eventually the time would come when all of the witches needed to be inside to service the Punjaniti in whatever was required of them… and when that time came there would be no stopping them … gun, or no gun.
  There were but seven of them as they marched into the room, smartly decked out in their white robes that covered them from the neck to the point of their toes, and hoods covering their heads down over their shoulders to protect their identity.  A smile suddenly crossed Joseph’s face when, for some unknown reason, they reminded Joseph of the seven dwarfs from Snow White and half expected them to burst out singing ‘Heigh ho, Heigh ho, it’s off to work we go’, but the way that they moved into position so effortlessly convinced Joseph that their minds were in a trance; ‘Under Rangor’s control perhaps?.’  He noted, grateful that they had not seemed to have noticed the plates of glass placed strategically around the room.  His plan had depended on this to be a fact, and he fervently hoped that the Punjaniti would not notice them either.
  He moved quietly and quickly from his hiding position behind the first two mirrors and crept up the passageway to see if they had posted a guard outside.  When he arrived at the door Joseph was pleased to see the door was partly open which gave him the opportunity to peek outside before attempting to open the door and risk bringing attention to himself; and, to his surprise, they had posted a guard.  Three feet away, a solitary white figure guarded the entrance, their back to the door, their eyes scanning the constantly conflicting light and darkness of the woods; the inconsistency, the rise and fall of light over dark, dark over light, a result of the still rising full moon spilling its brilliance over and through the trees in front of it. 
  ‘Not a good way to start the night.  I hope the rest of the night goes according to plan.  We really don’t have a second plan in the waiting.’  Joseph mumbled to himself as he reached into his coat pocket and retrieved the rock he had used to damage the mirrors then slowly opened the door, at the same time reaching into trousers and extracting a coin.  When the door was completely open Joseph threw the coin at the ancient milk cans to the left of the guard, who turned immediately to the scene of the noise.  Joseph moved with the swiftness of a cat, The brick came down with a sickening thump and the guard remained motionless on the ground, blood pouring down from the wound on his head and onto his face.  Joseph regretted having hit the man with so much force, but he knew it had been a life and death situation, and he preferred being the one who survived.
  “Ssssst!”
  Joseph swung around quickly in the direction of this new sound and saw Raji’s face peering out in the moonlight from the far corner of the farmhouse.  Indicating silence with his fingers to his mouth, Joseph motioned for Raji to join him.  Raji moved quickly over to where Joseph was standing, with Mary and Martin hot on his tail, but stopped so quickly when he saw the bleeding body on the ground they almost ran into him.
  “Who’s this, then?”  Ravi whispered,
  “An orphan, lost on the moors.”  Joseph whispered back, “Said he felt the onset of a migraine.  I suggested he took a nap while it passes.
  “Will he be safe out here on his own?
  “I hope so.
  “I have hand cuffs.”  Raji offered.
  Joseph looked at him and rolled his eyes.  “Yes, of course you have.  Well, let’s tie him up.  That should keep his safe enough for his own good.”
  In a flash Ravi had whipped out the handcuffs, pulled the man’s hands together behind his back and connected them.  “That should hold him,” He whispered,  “Mind you, I am uncertain whether or not I have the key in my possession.”
  “We’ll worry about that later.  In the mean time it’s time for us to take our seats for the opening scene.  Come on … let’s go, but very, very quietly.
  Again Joseph indicated complete silence to the group and motioned for them to follow him.  Slowly, quietly, cautiously, Joseph fully opened the front door, then they made their way up the darkened hallway to where their mirrors lay resting quietly out of immediate sight against the wall.
  The room, where the witches were, however, was brilliantly lit by comparison, preventing them from going any further without running the risk of being seen, but Joseph had positioned the spare mirror before he had gone down to the door so that they could see what was happening in the room without being seen themselves.

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One witch stood alone from the group at the edge of the middle of the carpet.  Presumably the coven leader, this one faced the burning carpet splattering small pinches of an unknown substance onto the fire; an action causing flames to erupt even higher as the compound hit the glowing embers.  His voice pitched high and low as he spoke and sung in what appeared to the outsiders to be Latin, though not one of the small group knew for sure what language it really was.  It very well could have been the creature’s own private language for all they knew.  The accompanying chanting by the remainder of the witches who stood in in two lines, one each side of the flames, unexpectedly began to get faster and faster to the point it was became frenzied – and suddenly the lone witch’s voice was raised to almost screaming level.  And it was at this point that Joseph noticed the anomaly … there were now more witches in the room than the seven he had counted, and that was impossible.  No one could have come into the room after the first seven without him seeing them, but before he could assess this situation all hell broke out in the room.  A thick smoke began emerging from out of the wall, and accompanying it a smell, so hideous, so repulsive, it collectively turned the stomachs of Joseph’s crew; a stench so vulgar it threatened their capability to carry out their task to the limit.  
  Then the stench was joined by the emerging appearance of the head and shoulders of the half human – half monster image of Rangor, the Punjaniti.
  At first the strange red and green eyes took in entire room.  Several seconds passed without movement.  The witches froze to the spot, their excitement tempered by their fear. Something seemed wrong.  Then the large head began to slowly scan the room.  Left to right, right to left and back again … as if in search of something expected failing to materialize.  Then the bright red and green eyes began to flicker, the eyes began to emit flame, and then the face looked irritated; extremely irritated and a thick, coarse, voice roared through the rooms.  
  “Where is my statue?” the creature demanded, the volume of its voice so loud that the walls reverberated, and the house threatened to collapse.  “Where is my effigy?”

  Rangor had arrived … and, once again, he was angry.