Epilogue to La Justice Gitane and giveaway

Here is a couple of pictures of the Goddess necklace and earring set I made for this giveaway. The pendant is bronze, the chain copper and the pretties are coppery blister pearls. Simply comment on any of the 4 parts, (or all for more chances) and next Friday April 20 I will randomly select the winner. Thank you so much for taking the time to read the tale of Genevieve.

How it began….. or Epilogue of La Justice Gitane


Beau Garcon Sachet Papier had died a rather horrible death, Genevieve had thought as she rode past the hamlet that had for all of Beau’s life been the fount of his evil strength. She had not been near there since she was a mere girl of fourteen.

This was the first time she had allowed herself to come this close to where Beau’s parents had killed her mother or to have this memory in almost 40 years.

Her mother had been called by fate to this place to aid someone else in distress. That is how it worked, their calling. It wasn’t always a person riding up to let them know of an illness or injury, it was in most cases the feelings being transmitted by the universe to them as empaths.

Genevieve’s mother had felt the calling two days prior to their arrival at La Mere du Mal’s homestead. The person in need was an old woman who had fallen down a well and was in terrible condition. The woman had been left by the side of the well and would beg all who came for water for help but La Mere du Mal had left instructions that anyone helping this stupid woman, who had fouled her well, would suffer death themselves. So the woman languished near death, until Genevieve and her mother arrived. They put the woman in their cart and transported her to a nearby cave where they attended to her.

The next day just as the old woman was breathing her last breaths, La Mere du Mal’s husband and henchman Boucher des enfants came to the cave to dole out his wife’s punishment on those that dare to defy her edict. Boucher’s reputation for relishing the meting out of physical punishment preceded him. There was no need for introductions to this creature of pain.

Not wanting to leave the dying woman to this man who obviously had anguish to hand out, they stayed quietly hidden and in control of their own fear at the rear of the cave, hoping that he would not detect them, they held their breath.

Boucher pretended not to see them, looked at the near death woman, stabbed her several times and left. But instead of leaving, he concealed his presence outside the cave and waited.

When Genevieve thought it safe to venture out, she went to retrieve the cart from the woods. He jumped her, had her on the ground and was pushing her skirts up around her throat when her mother came from behind him with a branch in her hand, ready to hit him in the head. He jumped aside, grabbed the branch from her hand, lashed out at the mother and hit her in the head knocking her unconscious. Genevieve had only remembered running further into the forest to hide.

When time had passed, she searched for her mother. She didn’t have to search long before she found her mother. She was lashed facing a tree, her clothes ripped and bloody on the ground. She tenderly untied her mother and saw what this terrible being had done to defile her mother. It was almost impossible to comprehend that all of this butchery at the hands of this evil woman and man had occurred because they had dared to aid another being.

Genevieve got her mother into the cart and pulled it to the next village herself as the donkey begrudgingly followed alongside her making a gravely sound in his throat. It was as though he was crying and protesting all in one sound.

Hysterically, she asked any and all she met for the whereabouts of a healer and was directed to the road ahead that lay to the east.

Sadness, sickness and a growing hatred became what she drank, ate and slept while she waited to have her mother healed, whole and ready to travel again. She kept going over what had happened in her mind. Yes, she and her mother had made the choice to help someone but had not expected such a brutal attack. Yes, they did know the reputation of the landholders but did not expect this heinous behavior. She was young and did not have knowledge of the cruelty of the world.

When her mother ultimately died from her injuries, Genevieve became the gypsy woman, took what she valued most which was her mother’s broach and the donkey and left this district. But she did vow that someday her revenge for the loss of her mother’s sparkling essence and love of life would be exacted on the evil that had reigned that day.

And it had been. This evil had destroyed itself with the help of the power of La Justice Gitane.

Genevieve turned the caravan towards the Duke’s estate where she knew she would spend the rest of her days loving and being loved, which after all is always the sweetest revenge.

I wish to thank Magaly for this challenge to write of a witch who is not sterotypical in the eyes of the world, but in my experience is extraordinarily typical of the loving community of women and men I have met who follow the pagan path. Loving to a fault and caring with everything that they posess and dedicated to striving for excellence in their craft.
I also would like to thank you who have read this tale and taken the time to let me know what you felt as you read the story. I love to weave a story and many of you have given me more insight into my own writing than I otherwise would have. You have blessed me as always.
And I need to thank my family for listening to this story many, many times as I worked out the nuances of the storyline. They are my why.

Don't forget to comment to get a chance on the goddess necklace my lovelies.