The Silver Witch

‘About who it is they are digging up. Though I can’t imagine they’ll do much in the snow.’


‘Ah, you might be wrong about that,’ says the professor, polishing off the last of his tea. ‘The ground is actually less frozen now than it was a few days ago, when it was actually too cold to snow. My guess is, they might actually make some progress today.’

‘They could finally be removing the remains?’ Tilda asks.

‘It’s possible.’

‘I’ll come with you.’ Dylan walks with her as she heads for the door. Tilda cannot quite decide if she feels pleased or put off by how keen he is to spend more time with her. As if sensing this, he adds, ‘If things are moving again at the dig they might want to put me to use. The snow doesn’t settle on the lake, after all.’

When they reach the site they find that the professor was right. There is a buzz of excitement and activity around the opened grave. A 4x4 vehicle is parked close to it, with a smart trailer attached, boxes of soil and samples already stacked in front of it. Around the dig site, three tall metal gantries hold powerful floodlights aloft—the kind used to illuminate football pitches. Molly and several of the other archeologists are carefully packing things into crates, which are then lifted into the trailer. Lucas is directing operations with much arm waving and a fair bit of snapping at people. He does not look pleased to see Dylan, whom he all but ignores, but he does at least pause to greet Tilda.

‘You’ve certainly got a knack for choosing the right moment to turn up,’ he says. ‘We are about to remove the top skeleton and then lift the coffin and its contents. You can’t rush these things, you know. In the wrong conditions, one hasty move, and something that has survived for centuries can be destroyed.’

‘But you can work in the snow,’ Tilda says. ‘Because the ground is not so frozen?’

‘That’s right. The snow acts as a sort of insulation. We had the lights set up a couple of days ago in case we have to work through the night. Once we get started, there’s no turning back. We have to get everything, all the contents of the trench, lifted, packed, and moved into the trailer.’

‘I’m surprised I haven’t noticed the lights,’ says Tilda. ‘I can see the dig from my cottage.’

‘We haven’t used them yet. Tonight will be the first time. Or actually, this afternoon, the way the light is fading. We’ve got a bigger generator in specially.’ He indicates a large metal box on wheels parked up by the main tent. ‘You’ll probably be able to hear that from your house when it’s going, too.’

‘Have you found out any more about the identity of the people in the grave?’ she asks.

‘Various theories have been put forward.’ Lucas walks as he talks, picking up a discarded trowel and handing it to someone, tidying a loose coil of cable and generally fussing. ‘We’ll know more once we can open the coffin and see what grave goods are with the body. That the uppermost remains are those of someone convicted of a crime of some sort seems to be the most likely explanation, but there is another factor that we are looking into.’

‘Something to do with the way they were executed, or who they were?’

‘Both, in effect. Turns out pinning victims of burials in place—whether they were alive at the time or not—was not the only reason tenth-century lake dwellers might have dropped such a huge flat stone on top of them. It was common practice—so Molly assures me, and I’ve never yet had cause to doubt her research—in the burial of a witch.’

Tilda feels a shiver that has nothing to do with the snow chase down the length of her spine. Without really knowing she is doing it, she takes hold of the bracelet nestled in her coat pocket. She catches Dylan’s eye. He looks serious for once.