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  “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.”

  Before daylight on the ninth day, a fat, stinking old woman came bearing a plain white linen sheath for Alyx to wear. Without a protest, calmly, Alyx slipped it on, leaving it loose over her stomach. At the proceedings she’d pleaded for her child’s life, but the men had only given her a blank look, totally uninterested in her. One of the judges told Pagnell to silence her and one slap from him had made Alyx hold her tongue. There was nothing she could say to sway them anyway. They figured they had to burn her now while Raine was still hot for her and the child must also be endangered. Pagnell laughed and said he’d hold Raine and make him watch while Alyx burned.

  With her chin high, using all her strength to control the shaking in her knees, Alyx descended the stairs before the old woman who carried Alyx’s dress over her arm—pay for risking being in the same room with the witch.

  A priest waited at the foot of the stairs, and quickly, Alyx made her confession, denying that she was a witch or that she carried the Devil’s child. With an air of disbelief, he blessed and sent her on her way.

  It must have looked strange, Alyx thought, for someone of her size to be escorted by so many large men: one in front, one in back, two on each side. The clanking of the full armor they wore was the only thing louder than the pounding of her heart as she fixed her eyes on the platform in front of her. A tall stake reached skyward and all around it was a pile of brush and dried grasses.

  The crowd was joyous as they watched her approach, jubilant at the special treat that awaited them. Not many witches were burned nowadays.

  As Alyx climbed the stairs, the guards kept her circled, their backs to her as their eyes scanned the horizon. Involuntarily, Alyx also looked at the landscape. Hope and fear mixed together within her. She feared for Raine’s life should he try to save her, yet she hoped she would not have to die.

  A guard grabbed her arm, pulled her to the stake and tightly tied her wrists behind her.

  Alyx lifted her eyes skyward, fully aware that this would be the last time she’d see the day. The early morning sunlight was just lightening the day and she looked across the high brush and into the crowd. It was bad, very bad, that these were the last faces she’d ever see, that she’d go to Heaven—or Hell—with these faces on her mind.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to picture Raine.

  “Get on with it,” came a voice that made Alyx open her eyes. Voices were life to her; she’d more likely remember a voice than a face or a name. Scanning the crowd, she saw no one she knew. They all seemed to be an especially dirty, scarred lot.

  “Let me light the fire,” came the voice again, and this time Alyx looked into Rosamund’s eyes. A chill went all over her skin, her scalp tightening and a tiny flame of hope surged through her.

  The guards, all around her, were taking their time in lighting the fire as they studied the country around them, looking for some sign of a knight and his men.

  Not sure whether to trust her eyes, she looked at the crowd again.

  “What’re ye waitin’ for?” came a voice Alyx kne