Gerts had come that morning to apologize for drugging her and to tell her the execution was planned for sundown. A guard in the hallway had laughed and said the hour was chosen because witch burnings should never be witnessed on a full stomach.
Gerts threw a fit that would make a berserker proud and had the man replaced. Then, in one last attempt to save Brigid pain, she’d offered her a small vial of concentrated hensbane.
Brigid had declined.
Now, with the gloaming nearly upon her, a tray of food sat untouched on the table. They'd provided her with roasted goose, warm bread, plump berries of every sort, and honey cakes. A condemned woman's last meal. But she wanted something else entirely.
Flanders?
His response came immediately. They’d been talking like this all day.
I'm here, love.
They've brought me food. How can they expect me to eat?
Try. For strength alone, aye?
Fine. I will try,she lied.
She closed her eyes, weary of fighting off the dread. Wickham had promised to save her, to reunite her with Bella. But as the day slipped through her fingers, doubt gnawed at her.
What if it was all a lie? What if he'd never saved Bella? After all, she'd been there, in the crowd at Gallabrae, watching the horror on her sister's face until everything was consumed in sudden flames.
Then again, why would Wickham lie? Why had he come at all, if not to help her?
Oh, but she was tired…
The door opened and a priest entered, his face solemn beneath his cowl. He carried a large Bible and a rosary. Its cross wagged back and forth like the tail of a happy puppy, pleased to be of use.
"I've come to hear yer confession, child."
"I have nothing to confess," she replied.
The priest sighed. "Then perhaps I can offer comfort? Laird Leesborn would want that at least."
A friend of Flanders? She nodded and allowed him to pray over her, though the Latin washed off her like water off stone, meaningful only to him. When he finished, he pressed the rosary into her hand.
"Keep this," he whispered. "It may bring ye peace."
She shook her head and handed it back. “Only more fodder for the fire, Father. It would be a pity to burn something so beautiful.”
“Aye, so it would, so it would.” His eyes were wet when he turned away.
Once he was gone, she reached out again.A priest came. He was surprisingly kind to a woman accused of witchcraft.
Brigid! I have news! The Regent has granted my request. I am to be released to attend... to witness. Ye see? I told ye I would get out of here. Take heart! I will find my way to ye. Ye will not die this day! I swear it!
His sudden confidence made her cry. Hope was beyond her, though she couldn’t tell him that. But she could at least pretend, for his sake.
Are ye certain?
Aye! Moray owed me a debt from Stirling Bridge. He's honoring it now.
A pity it wasn’t a debt large enough to gain her freedom.
I’m leaving now. It shan’t be long, love. Don’t lose heart!
She waited for Wickham to come, to offer final reassurances about the plan, but the minutes passed and the corner of the room remained vacant.
