Father Garsea stared long and hard at Eda. ‘I was told there is nothing physically wrong with her.’ He paused. ‘It seems the devil has hold of her tongue—and now she does his work.’
Blake stepped forwards, but one look from Harlan pinned her in place. She had made him a promise. Her breathing sped up as her mother cried behind her.
‘Perhaps she could write her apology,’ Harlan suggested.
‘I doubt very much a note will release her from the devil’s clutch,’ the priest replied, turning to face the warden. ‘I suggest ten lashes to relieve her poor soul.’
Lashes.
‘No weapons. No emotional displays. No heroics.’
Blake’s shoulders fell a few inches, her mother’s crying growing louder.
‘Get it done,’ Shapur said to the defenders nearby.
Harlan ran a hand down his face. ‘Her inability to speak has nothing to do with the devil.’
Father Garsea waved him off. ‘We wish her freed from the hand of Satan.’ He turned back to the crowd. ‘Let us pray for this young woman.’
Blake thought she was going to be sick.
‘No,’ Candace cried behind her.
Blake turned. ‘Keep her quiet.’
Lyndal nodded and pulled her mother to her before squeezing her eyes closed.
It was Blake who watched as her sister’s hands were tied to a post near the wall, Blake who flinched as Eda’s dress was torn open at the back.
‘I’ll do it,’ Harlan said, walking up to the defender holding the whip and snatching it from his hands.
Blake flinched again.What is he doing?
‘Let the man do his job,’ Shapur said, glaring at Harlan.
Harlan stared at the defender still standing in his way and looking confused. ‘Move.’
He was supposed to intervene, to protect, not join in the torture. As he turned his back to the crowd, to Blake, she told herself he had a plan. But then he was standing behind Eda, flicking the whip.
Blake’s hand shook violently as adrenaline coursed through her. Her eyes met Eda’s for a moment, and she wanted to scream, run to her, cut the throat of anyone who dared stand between them.
‘Interference only puts you and the rest of your family at risk.’
Harlan’s words from the night before stopped her.
‘Trust me.’
Did she trust him?
Eda continued to watch Blake with a broken expression. Swallowing, Blake raised her hands and signed,Stand tall and strong, warrior.
Eda’s tears stopped, and she gritted her teeth.
‘God, be merciful,’ the priest said, addressing the crowd. ‘Because of your constant love. Because of your great mercy. Strip away her sins.’
Eda closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she stared straight ahead with a stoic expression. Harlan looked down at Eda’s delicate back, skin, and ribs, like every other merchant. No meat or fat to protect her from the harsh leather. He would not dare lift a whip to her sister. Blake was sure of it. He had asked her to trust him, to leave her weapon at home, to remain silent.
And she had obeyed.
