This caused the priest to give a loud grunt, and he exclaimed, “Bandits! You don’t need to worry about bandits! It is that damn Swamp Witch you have to worry about. She’s a fearsome beast, with red eyes and a sword that looks like fire. You mark my words, it is she you should be concerned about.”
The man’s proclamation brought all the conversation to a halt, and an awkward silence stretched on for almost a minute. The owner of the inn had been quietly moving about, serving everyone tea, and he, once he had finished his chore, said in a soft voice, “But one man’s devil is another man’s angel.”
“That Swamp Witch ain’t no angel,” the priest proclaimed. “She’s a devil and she likes to kill. She’s an old hag who is ancient and who has been around ever since the swamps were formed.”
“I’ve heard of her,” another of the Honakei said. “But I heard she is a young woman.”
Another man spoke, “No, an old, ancient woman. I’ve heard of her too.”
“Maybe she can change her form,” their waggoneer suggested. “Maybe she can be a young woman when she wants and an old woman when she wants.”
“Maybe she can change into an animal when she wants, like the great swamp ape,” another man said.
“There ain’t no great swamp ape,” the priest declared loudly. “That’s just a bunch of made-up stories.”
“Have you seen her?” Perslet asked the priest.
“No. I ain’t seen her. But I’ve heard a lot about her. Like I said, she is a devil and a cold-blooded murderer.”
There was another long silence, then the innkeeper quietly said, “There’s some in this village who have seen her.”
It was one the marines who spoke next. “Who…,” he asked. “Who has seen this witch?”
The old innkeeper hesitated, then he poured himself a cup of tea and sat on one of the thick floor pillows. He spoke in a soft whisper, and in a very sincere voice. “There’s three girls who live here in the village. They’re in their teens and they were kidnapped last spring.” He paused, remembering, then he continued, and it was obvious he was admitting some great guilt. “There are not only bandits about, but there are also slavers. They come at night, unexpected, and they take what they want. They leave a trail of burned buildings and death behind them, and it is mostly young girls they want. They are worth the real money.”
No one spoke for almost a minute, then Odell asked, in a fearful voice that said she already knew the answer. “What happens to them? The young girls?”
“The slavers take them to what they call comfort houses, and they are forced to become prostitutes. And I don’t mean prostitutes that are used once or twice a day, but women that are used over and over again, all day.”
“By who?” Odell asked, clearly very upset.
“There are men who live on the creeks and rivers, and there are men who live in the hills. They are the bandits, and all are users and victim makers. But even them aren’t as bad as the slavers. They’re victim makers of the worst kind.”
“And these girls who were captured? What happened to them?”
“They lived on one of the tributaries about a half day south of here. The slavers came at night. They killed their parents, burned their house… Most of the houses in the swamp are just shacks… Anyway, the slavers hauled off the three girls. They took them to one of their comfort houses up in the hills.”
“But the girls escaped?”
“They did not. They were beaten, they were repeatedly raped, and they were just plain used. They did not escape.”
There was another long pause in the conversation, while everyone considered the horror of this. The old innkeeper took a sip of tea, and then continued, “It was one night… a very dark night… the girls said. There were two guards to prevent anyone from sneaking out or in. The Swamp Witch came, the girls said, unseen and unheard. She killed both guards.”
“How?” Banteen asked. “With a sword of fire?”
“No, the girls said she had a regular sword and that she cut the two guards’ throats. It was pitch black, and the girls said the Swamp Witch could see in the dark. She just walked to the guards, stood next to them, and then slit their throats. Then she moved into the brothel and went from room to room. She moved quiet, real quiet, and it was dark, real dark, and only the Swamp Witch could see. The girls didn’t know how many men the Swamp Witch killed that night, but they thought it might have been as many as five.”
“And then?” This was again Odell.
“There were more than just the three girls there. The Swamp Witch got them all out of there. It’s a jungle up there, and they all hid out until daylight. There were seven girls all told. The Swamp Witch is woods-wise, and fed them with food she found in the jungle. Three of the girls were from a village up in the hills. They said they knew their way home and they left. The three girls from near here also made their way home through the jungle. They came here, and have been living here ever since. The last girl, the girls said, was really small and did not know her way home. She said she had an uncle or an aunt who would take care of her, but didn’t know exactly where they lived. The girls said that the Swamp Witch said she would take that girl home. They left, and that’s the last the girls saw of the Swamp Witch.”
“And then?” one of the marines quietly asked.
“Then the girls came here and we took them in. We tried to make them part of our family, but they’re never going to heal… up here.” The old man pointed to his head.
“What did the girls say this Swamp Witch looks like? Is she old or young?”
“The girls didn’t say her age, but anyone is going to appear old to a youngster—which these girls are.”
“Has anyone seen her since?”
“Not that we know of. But there hasn’t been any kidnappings in a while, so maybe she is just hiding out in the swamp. Maybe she hibernates and sleeps when she is not needed. Maybe she goes to other lands and saves the girls there. No one really knows…”