Anya Bergman

They will have justice. They will show their power. They will not burn.

'Utterly Propulsive' - Kiran Millwood Hargrave, Author of the MERCIES

The Witches of Vardo

Emma Hak-Kovacs

It had been a long time since l had felt such deep chill in my bones as, for the past few years, a fire had always burned in my belly, keeping my extremities warm; some nightsI would awaken in my bedchamber in Bergen, the heat with in me overpowering, as if I were aflame.

My husband Doctor Ambrosius Rhodius is an esteemed individual as you well know. He is an academic and theologian, physician and schoolmaster at Bergen Latin Skole. But did you know all his titles I had acquired for him through my industry, knowledge and skill? Surely you must have surmised it was so, my king. And yet I was viewed a failure by all who knew Doctor Ambrosius Rhodius, because I was a wife with no offspring.

I had always felt safe in a library, as if the books were there to protect me, like a fortress of words, thoughts and learning.

The Dark Lord would hear her mother's laugh. Waiting with patience in the deep black, red eyes glinting with expectation.

'For I believe the only way to protect ourselves is to make them afraid of us.' 

‘Who are they?' Kirsten asked, wide eyed.

This is my battleground, my king. You send your men out to fight for our kingdom, with so many boys slain before they have more than a few chin hairs. But we women fight too, for our war is on the birthing bed. Your soldiers come into the world through their mothers' struggles, and we go into battle willingly because the rewards are great.

My father shared his knowledge with me for in his eyes I was neither boy nor girl, but his heritage, and he considered it his right and duty to educate me. In my father's cabinet of curiosities there was science, but magic and mystery too.

The violence within my own body felt as if a rebellion was upon me.

As I watched them, I mused upon how expendable women are in the world of kings, nay of men, all of us appendages: wives and mistresses, and those not even worth the mention.

I saw my father talking to a group of young nobles, and their glances towards me. My throat tightened with dread, for the idea of being married to a noble and leading a life of idle leisure was not appealing to me, let alone the dangers of childbirth. I desired to have purpose beyond the role designated to me as wife and mother. I wished to leave a mark upon this world, my king, and for my legacy to be more than offspring.

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