Briefly, Pagnell told his version of the story, that Alyx had used her voice to entice him. Then, when he’d gotten close, she’d disappeared into thin air. Later, he’d gone looking for her and she’d leapt on him with the force of demons. He showed his uncle the scar on his head. “Could a little thing like that have left such a scar unless she were helped
by the Devil?”
Robert gave a weak laugh, a snort of derision. “It sounds to me like she outsmarted you.”
“She’s a witch, I tell you.”
Robert waved his hand in dismissal. “All women are witches to some extent. What does the girl have to do with Raine Montgomery?”
“I believe she’s spent the last few months in his camp and it’s his child she carries. If we were to let it be known that we mean to burn her as a witch, he’d come after her. And when he does, we’d be ready for him. You could have him, and we could share the King’s reward.”
“Wait a minute, boy,” Robert interrupted. “Look at her! You mean to use that as bait? Raine Montgomery can have his pick of women. No doubt there are lean pickings in the forest and she probably does carry his child, but why would he risk his life to come after that? And why would you spend so much time searching for a flat-chested, hipless, plain-faced child such as her?”
Pagnell gave his uncle a look of contempt before turning to Alyx. “Sing!” he commanded.
“I will not,” she said firmly. “You plan to murder me anyway, so why should I obey you?”
“You will die,” he said evenly, “but the question is whether you will burn before or after the child’s birth. If you disobey me I will see that the child dies with you. Now sing for your child’s life.”
Alyx obeyed him instantly, her hands on her stomach as she lifted her voice in a plea to God for her child’s life.
There was a long silence when she finished, both men watching her intently.
Robert, rubbing away the chills on his forearms, spoke first. “Montgomery will come after her,” he said with conviction.
Pagnell smiled in satisfaction, glad his uncle could see why he’d spent so many months searching for the girl. “In the morning we begin the trial, and when she’s found guilty we will tie her to a stake. Montgomery’ll come for her and we’ll be ready for him.”
“How can you be sure he’ll hear of this in time? And if he does come, are you sure you can take him?”
“I tossed the chit in a cellar for a few hours and let it be known to the pretty boy she was with what I planned to do with her. He rode away like a shot and I’m sure he was headed south toward the forest where Montgomery hides. And as for men, there won’t be time for him to collect them. Now he’s surrounded by criminals and out-of-works. None of them can ride a horse, much less wield a sword.”
Alyx bit her lower lip to keep from defending Raine. It was much better that Pagnell thought Raine defenseless; perhaps then Pagnell would send only a few men to capture Raine.
What was she thinking about? Raine would never come after her after what she’d done to him. She doubted very much if he’d speak to Jocelin. The forest guards reported to Raine whenever someone approached, and all Raine had to do was refuse Joss entrance—which he’d surely do. If Jocelin tried to sneak into the forest, Raine could order the guards to kill him. No! Raine wouldn’t do that, would he? And what if Jocelin did somehow get to Raine? Would Raine believe Joss? Would he care what happened to Alyx?
“He’ll come,” Pagnell repeated. “And when he does, we’ll be ready for him.”
Chapter Fourteen
ALYX LOOKED OUT the window of the small stonewalled room and into the courtyard below, watching with horrified fascination as the carpenters built the gallows for her burning. It had been eight long, terrifying days since she’d been taken by Pagnell, and during that time she’d been subjected to a fiasco of a trial.
The men who ran the trial had been some of Pagnell’s relatives, and he’d easily persuaded them to his views. Alyx listened to it all, for they talked about her as if she weren’t there, and her head echoed with Raine’s words.
Raine and she had argued so many times about the rising middle class. Alyx had always adored King Henry, loved the way he was taking away the power from the nobles, was forcing the nobles to pay wages and no longer own serfs. But Raine said the King was turning the nobles into fat merchants, that if the ruling class had to count pennies they would forget their knightly virtues, would no longer know the meaning of honor. She talked of people being more equal, but Raine asked who would do the fighting if England were attacked. If there weren’t a class of people freed from money making to stay strong and practice warfare, who would protect England?
As Alyx sat through the “trial,” she began to see more clearly what Raine meant. The judges didn’t for a minute believe she was a witch, and Alyx marveled at this because the people in her town believed quite strongly in witches, and had a multitude of ways to protect themselves from evil curses.
All the judges cared about was winning the King’s favor and reaping the rewards that came with the King’s pleasure. Pagnell told them that she carried Raine Montgomery’s child and, like vultures, they jumped on this fact. Raine had been declared a traitor, and with a little more pushing, he could have his lands given to someone else. King Henry loved to create his own nobles, to give out titles to anyone rich enough to buy one. The judges hoped he would give some of the Montgomery lands to them if they delivered Raine—or his head—to the King.
Alyx sat silently through the whole proceedings as they plotted and planned, laughed and argued. At the end, they pushed her into a cart and drove her through the little town—she didn’t even know its name—a man walking before her declaring her to be a witch.
As if she were someone else, Alyx watched the people cross themselves, make crosses of their fingers, turn away lest she look on them with an evil eye, and the bolder ones threw food and offal at her. She wanted to cry out that what was being done to her had nothing to do with witchcraft but greed—the greed of men already rich. But as she looked at the fascinated/scared expressions of the dirty, diseased people, she knew she could not reason with them. She was not going to do away with centuries of ignorance in a few minutes.
When the cart ride was over she was dragged to the ruins of an old stone castle, one tower standing, and pushed up the stairs. Many hours later she was given a small bowl of water and Alyx washed the stench from her body as best she could.
They kept her there for days, guards on the floor below and more on the roof. At night the townspeople gathered to circle the tower and chant exorcisms to guard themselves against her evil. Alyx merely sat in the center of the cold little room and tried to listen to the music that ran through her head. She knew the judges delayed her execution to give Raine time to arrive to rescue her. She prayed with all her might for his safety, pleaded with God to let him realize he was walking into a trap. The judges and Pagnell had been so right when they said that Raine could not go for his own knights. In fact, Pagnell had taken his own men north to Raine’s home to guard that Raine did not ride there first.
Alyx sat and thought over the men in Raine’s camp, what poor soldiers they were, how lazily they trained—and how much they hated her. “Please,” she prayed, “do not let Raine come alone. If he comes, let him have a guard and let the men protect him.”