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A Novel
by Emilia HartWeaving together the stories of three extraordinary women across five centuries, Emilia Hart's Weyward is an enthralling novel of female resilience and the transformative power of the natural world.
I am a Weyward, and wild inside.
2019: Under cover of darkness, Kate flees London for ramshackle Weyward Cottage, inherited from a great aunt she barely remembers. With its tumbling ivy and overgrown garden, the cottage is worlds away from the abusive partner who tormented Kate. But she begins to suspect that her great aunt had a secret. One that lurks in the bones of the cottage, hidden ever since the witch-hunts of the 17th century.
1619: Altha is awaiting trial for the murder of a local farmer who was stampeded to death by his herd. As a girl, Altha's mother taught her their magic, a kind not rooted in spell casting but in a deep knowledge of the natural world. But unusual women have always been deemed dangerous, and as the evidence for witchcraft is set out against Altha, she knows it will take all of her powers to maintain her freedom.
1942: As World War II rages, Violet is trapped in her family's grand, crumbling estate. Straitjacketed by societal convention, she longs for the robust education her brother receives––and for her mother, long deceased, who was rumored to have gone mad before her death. The only traces Violet has of her are a locket bearing the initial W and the word weyward scratched into the baseboard of her bedroom.
Chapter Seven
ALTHA
The guards took me down a cramped stone staircase to the dungeon. If the castle had swallowed me, now it had me in its bowels; for here it was even darker than where they'd held me in the village.
My gut churned between hunger and sickness, thirst clawing at my throat. My heart hammered at the sight of the heavy wooden door. I was already so weak. I did not know how much longer I would last.
But they gave me provisions, this time, before they locked me away—a thin blanket, a pot, and a pitcher of water. And an old hunk of bread, which I ate slowly, biting off tiny amounts and chewing until the saliva flooded my mouth.
I only took note of my surroundings once I had eaten my fill, my shrunken stomach cramping. They had given me no candle, but there was a small grate set high in the wall, letting in the last embers of the day.
The stone walls felt cold to the touch, and when I took my fingers away, they were damp. A dripping sound came from some- where, ...
One of the most successful aspects of the book is its depiction of the Weyward women's mystical connection to the natural world. Their magical ability to communicate with animals and harness the power of nature comes across with poignant and delicate sensitivity, skillfully avoiding any potential magic-women-at-harmony-with-nature clichés. Weyward is an intelligent, hard-hitting, mesmerizing novel marking the auspicious debut of a talented writer and storyteller...continued
Full Review (620 words)
(Reviewed by Jo-Anne Blanco).
"Witch. The word slithers from the mouth like a serpent, drips from the tongue as thick and black as tar. We never thought of ourselves as witches, my mother and I. For this was a word invented by men, a word that brings power to those who speak it, not those it describes. A word that builds gallows and, turns breathing women into corpses."
Emilia Hart, Weyward
At the opening of Emilia Hart's Weyward, there is a quote from Shakespeare's Macbeth regarding the three witches: "The Weyward Sisters, hand in hand/Posters of the sea and land/Thus do go, about, about/Thrice to thine/Thrice to mine/And thrice again to make up nine./ Peace, the charm's wound up." Following this quote, there is a note, stating: "'Weyward' is used in the First ...
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