Kahlan slowly shook her head as she held the skewer over the fire, roasting another piece of meat. “Those aren’t rare occurrences. Birth is a difficult process. Newborn babies don’t always live, and mothers sometimes die in childbirth.”
“True enough, but people refused to see it that way. Once they got it in their heads that it was a witch causing their troubles, there was no changing their minds. It was easy to blame her when there was no way to know the real cause. Soon, everything bad that happened had to be the witch’s fault. There could be no other explanation, and none were sought or tolerated.
“My mother only had kindness in her heart and was horrified by the things they accused her of. She wept in despair. Her whole life, she had worked to show people that as a witch woman, she could be of help to them, that she could be a good part of their lives, that witch women needn’t be feared. She always taught me that as witch women it was our duty to serve the needs of others, that we must devote ourselves to their betterment.
“She didn’t believe it was necessary or much use to argue with people. Quarreling wasn’t in her nature, and besides, she was aware that it would do no good. She had done good and expected her actions to be enough proof of her true nature. When she didn’t wish to argue with people to deny the accusations, they somehow saw that as proof that she was guilty. When she finally did deny some of the more horrific accusations, they somehow saw that as proof of wackiness. Nothing my mother said would dissuade them of their beliefs.”
She fell silent and stared into the flames, into the memories.
“So they burned her alive,” Richard said.
Those words jolted Kahlan. This was where the Seeker had been headed. She just didn’t yet know why.
Shale nodded as she continued to stare into the flames. After a moment she cleared her throat.
“There came an unexpected warm spell that lasted weeks. During that unusual weather people started coming down with a sickness they had never seen before. Some of the weaker people, old people, and infants died in delirium from the fevers. They wouldn’t allow my mother to attend to the sick, saying that she was actually the cause of it. With every death, anger grew.
“In the middle of a dark night, they showed up and dragged my mother and me out of our home.” Shale glanced up. “I was a witch woman, too, after all. I was being trained in the evil ways of a witch by my mother, they said. Everyone was yelling and screaming to kill the witches. I was terrified.
“My mother pleaded with them—calling most by name, as she had healed many of them at one time or another, saved many of their lives before, birthed their children—that she would admit to anything they wanted if they would simply leave me be.
“They were having none of it. They said both of us were witches and we both needed to burn.
“They threw me in a wood box, where firewood was stored, and nailed it shut to make sure I didn’t get away until after they were finished with my mother and could come back for me. The sides had open slats for air circulation, so I could see out. Inside that dark box, crammed in atop the firewood, I watched what they did. I can still remember the smell of that firewood box.
“The men tied my mother to a long wooden rail and made her wait there on the cold, wet ground, helpless, as they built a huge, roaring fire in the center of town. The whole time she called them out by name, begging them to spare her daughter. That was all she cared about. While the men built the fire, women surrounded her, calling her names as they spit on her.
“And then three or four men lifted each end of the wooden rail and walked it over to the roaring fire. As everyone cheered, they heaved that rail with my mother tied helpless to it atop the blaze.
“In my dreams, I still hear her screams.”
Shale stopped then, working to maintain her composure.
“Then, after my mother’s screams finally stopped, they came for me.…”
Shale stopped there, and it seemed she might not go on as she stared into the flames, seeing dark memories. Her face was stone.
“Then,” she finally said, “I taught them why they should fear witches.”
“How many of them did you kill?” Richard asked.
Shale shrugged. “I didn’t keep a count. Once I broke out of that box, with my mother dead, I knew my life had changed forever. Her lessons of kindness had earned the hatred of people and gotten her murdered.
“I first took down the ones who had been guarding me to make sure I didn’t escape. Once I started in on the rest, some managed to run and get away. But I knew who they all were. After I finished with those I caught near the fire, I hunted down every last person who had taken part in murdering my mother. I saw to it that not one of them had an easy death.”
Richard tossed another stick of wood in the fire. “And so that is why you can’t burn a witch, not even one as evil as Michec.”
Shale nodded slowly as she stared into memories. “That is why.”
“What happened when your father finally returned?” Kahlan asked.
Shale huffed. “What do you think happened? He was devastated. He didn’t approve of what I had done, but he understood it. He was a hollow man after that. The life had gone out of him. His wife was dead and his daughter, the witch, had killed half the people in our town.”
“What about everyone else after that?” Richard asked. “Not everyone took part in your mother’s murder. And there were other people in the Northern Waste, other settled places. I presume you had to move, but you continued to live in the Waste.”
Shale looked up at him, fire in her dark eyes. “After that, in the new places we moved to, I continued to help those in need. I healed people as my mother had taught me. I birthed babies. I attended the sick and did what I could when something could be done and comforted those for whom nothing could be done. I proved to people that I had a good side, a kind side.
“But from that day on, everyone in the Northern Waste knew the name Shale. What they hadn’t realized when they burned my mother was that I was more than merely a witch woman, like my mother. I am also a sorceress, and that made me oh so much more dangerous.
“Needless to say, there were no more witch burnings. Those living in the Waste fear to even have that thought. Those in the Waste know that I am a witch in every sense, and more.
“They know that I don’t live by their grace; they live by mine.”
Bitterness soured Shale’s expression. “You just don’t understand what it is like to see your mother burned to death.”
The witch woman stood, then, and walked off into the darkness.
32
Kahlan found Shale a short distance away, standing alone among a stand of birch trees, staring off into the darkness. She put a comforting hand on the witch woman’s shoulder and gave it a gentle jostle.
“I’m sorry for all those terrible things that happened,” Kahlan told her.
With her fingertips, Shale wiped a tear from under each eye. “Thank you. It’s just that he doesn’t understand what it’s like to see your mother, a good woman who never harmed anyone, burned to death.”
Kahlan leaned in and whispered. “Oh but he does.”
Shale shook her head as she looked over at Kahlan. “How could he?”
Kahlan squeezed with the hand on Shale’s shoulder. “When Richard was a boy their house burned down. His mother burned to death inside. Richard couldn’t save her.”
Shale clearly looked shocked. “I had no idea.”
“As with you, it’s not a story one is eager to tell.”