I nodded woodenly, but his words were not what made me stiffen with terror. An iciness slithered down my spine. Starling seemed so content at their rummaging having yet to yield anything. His patience and pleasant face unnerved me. I thought of the two illegal tools I had hidden in a trunk and wondered, if they found them, would they even know what they were for?
“Too much,” added Bertram. “All because my brother has carried a torch for you since before he had hair on his chest. I am sick with it, watching a woman such as you poison the world around her.”
“Keep looking,” commanded Gerard, beginning to pace a little in the yard. His eyes went to me, a frown on his stern mouth. It was as if he wanted me to know that he knew I housed his former wife, that when he had cast her out, he knew she had run to me.
“Well, there’s all these in there,” said another soldier, coming to the door with a small stack of books.
“Oh my, yes,” crooned Starling. “I did not see the midwife with her herbalisms. I saw her withbooks.”
“No,” I tried to shout, but my voice was hoarse.
“Those are surely all on the list of offenses,” Gerard said. “Gather them all from inside. Don’t leave a one behind.” The captain looked at me with a satisfaction, as if he finally saw something thatpleased him. He looked back towards the gate. “My lord, what would you have us do?”
Torm turned to Starling. “I supposed you would advise the only way to cleanse out such iniquity is by way of our saint’s sacrifice.”
The priest murmured, “You are so devout, my lord. So wise. You know the heart of our saint perhaps better than I.”
“Bring them all out into the yard,” Torm ordered. “Stack them for a fire.”
“No!” I shrieked and made for the house.
I was grabbed from behind by a swift Bertram, who must have dismounted and run for me as soon as I turned. He, like Thane, was tall and well-built, and he pulled my squirming body back into his. As I flailed, he tightened the arm he had about my waist and brought his other arm up around my neck. “I know you’re the reason my wife hasn’t had another babe,” he hissed into my ear. “I don’t know what kind of witchery it is you do on her, but I know you’re the reason why.”
I tried to swing my arms back to hit him, but my blows were weakened by the limited air I was able to take in. I weakly cried out again. “Not my books!”
“Surely evil volumes,” I heard the priest muse. “All about Tintar, now our enemy. Did you know that, Madam Finch? We are at war with Tintar, and here you are with their idols and their blasphemies in your very house.”
“Say it,” Bertram was spitting in my ear. “Say you’re the reason she hasn’t quickened with a child again. I can’t get her to admit it, but godsdamn it, I’ll have you say it to me today, hag.”
“You havethreesons already, my lord,” I gasped. “And your lady wife, like me, nears her fortieth winter. Perhaps her body is just done with children. Perhaps no witchery is needed.”
There was a shout inside the house, and the first soldier came outside holding up a thin volume bound in old, green leather.
When I recognized it, I screamed.
“This is a book of Tintar’s gods,” the guard said. “It says so right on the first page. It’s written by a witch of Tintar.”
From my limited view over Bertram’s forearm, I saw Starling dismount and enter through the gate, his hand extended towards the guard.
The young man met him halfway and held out the book.
Starling took it and opened it, his gaze running down the first page. He looked up and, barely glancing at me, said to Lord Torm, “This is calledThe Life of Una. It is one of the most sacrilegious books ever set to a press. It explains their gods’ history. It says the answers to life’s questions are to be found inside the heart and mind, a heresy no scripture-fearing woman would ever read. Only our saint holds the keys to life’s locks. And those keys are certainly not for a woman to ponder.”
“Burn that one first, then,” Gerard said to the soldier, then looked to me and Bertram. “And, as you are restraining her, my friend, might I ask that you make her wicked eyes watch?”
“As I intended to, Captain,” Bertram laughed in my ear.
I doubled my efforts to escape his grip, kicking him hard in the shin.
Bertram swore and threw me to the dirt, his intention to hold me now thwarted. He kicked me but not with venom, only disinterest—an effort to roll me out of his way—and then marched up to the growing stacks of books in the front yard. He pulled a flask out from under his leather breast plate and poured it on the stack, extending his other hand towards the priest.
Starling gave the younger lord a thin smile and handed the book over.
Bertram flipped openThe Life of Unaand emptied the rest of his flask onto the spread pages. “A candle! Bring me a candle!” he called.
“A candle!” Gerard repeated.
I whined something incoherent.
