A barely discernible nod from Wickham gave him hope. But the fact that James still avoided eye contact worried Flanders even more. Moray’s patience was at an end, clearly, so he decided to trust, if only a little.
“Until recently, the matter of harboring a witch wouldn’t have been at issue,” Moray said, to the room at large. “But The Bruce is gone. And Scotland is in a state. We have no choice but to tread carefully here. And we have decided that a price must be paid for the events that have brought us all together. And we believe this will allow the scales to balance.”
He looked into Flanders’ eyes and inhaled deeply.
“Flanders Leesborn, I find ye guilty of harboring a witch and taunting yer neighbor to the point he disrupted our urgent business at court. I hereby sentence ye to two weeks imprisonment in a location yet to be decided. Take him.”
Two of the Regent’s surprised guards hurried forward and cautiously took hold of Flanders’ arms. Another two came from behind with their weapons drawn and tapped him on the back to alert him. Obviously, they were aware of his skills and feared what he might do. Shackles and chains were produced and attached to his wrists.
He blamed a lapse in sanity for his reasoning, hoping that if he went along quietly, Brigid would be spared a similar sentence, though she was guilty of nothing. He realized too late that Moray was purposefully waiting for him to be taken out the rear stairs before finishing his pronouncements. He hadn’t counted on his voice carrying down the spiral steps as clearly as if Flanders stood before him.
“Brigid Muir, ye’re found guilty of witchcraft, and in two days’ time, ye shall be burned at the stake. May God Almighty have mercy on thee.”
The very soul of Flanders Leesborn, the Bright Bear of Todlaw, protested so loudly they say it was heard for a mile in every direction.
Half of Scotland crossed themselves.
33
YE MUSTN’T TELL…
* * *
Deep in the ground, at the base of each turret in the curtain wall, a space was constructed for prisoners. No more than ten men at a time could be kept humanely in such a space, but when creating a fortress like Todlaw, a place many men would covet, James Duncan insisted there would be times when men, enemy or not, would need to be imprisoned for the safety of the community. He called it a jail.
Ten turrets. Ten jails.
The man couldn't have known that the first prisoner to be housed in the jail closest to the tower would be his dearest friend.
Flanders cursed himself for not having the forethought that he might one day need to escape one. But no, there were no weaknesses to be found. He'd torn the meager bench apart trying to pry the metal bars loose, and now he was left with only a cold dirt floor and a torch just inside the stairwell for comfort. But he didn't need comfort. He needed out!
Two days. That bastard Moray had given Brigid two days before her sentence was to be carried out. That gave Flanders less than two days to convince someone to unlock the cell door. That was all he needed. Just one chance. And with everyone in Todlaw loyal to him, it shouldn't be too difficult. No need to despair.
The shackles were already beginning to wear on his wrists, but he couldn't blame his jailors for leaving them on. No man in Scotland, save James Duncan, could rival him in hand-to-hand combat.
Once again, he recalled the look on James' face and couldn't fathom why his friend couldn't look him in the eye...unless he'd known what was coming. But why not warn him?
What possible excuse could James have for not doing so?
James could have helped him escape with Brigid before Moray began. At the very least, he could have feigned ignorance. Why had he not?
James had ever been one to champion women. He'd claimed to have known many witches. And he knew for a fact that Flanders loved Brigid. So why not help them?
It made no sense!
Steady I say. Keep yer wits. And trust us. Moray is with us.
Could the answer lie in Wickham’s words?
Did James not warn him of the danger...because there was no danger? Was there truly a plan? A plan that Moray was party to?
Just what had been discussed during that lengthy conversation? Was a plan made then? And did Moray know Wickham could take James away again in the blink of an eye?
Flanders cursed himself all over again for being a fool. Brigid had seen it—a man wascoming to take her away. Wickham had come to take her away! And there was nothing she could do to stop him.
Getting Brigid far away from the danger was all well and good, but she was going nowhere without him!
Flanders took a drink from the water skin he'd been provided, to soothe his throat, then he resumed his only strategy…
