“What’s that?”
“Bastion’s got everyone stirred up, especially the women. Dame Alice nearly pulled my arm off, trying to drag me into her house. The women are all gathered around in there, gossiping. Asking me all kinds of questions. Thought you would want to come talk to them.”
“Where is Bastion?”
Bad enough to be sent for water in front of Mia last night. Bastion might be off doing something important right now, some ritual or ceremony, Stefan thought.
“I don’t know. I didn’t go looking for him.”
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
“Just go. Please.”
Erick shook his head, holding the door open as Stefan exited.
Erick didn’t follow him. “I have to get the church ready,” he said.
Stefan paused, then decided against waiting for him. “Don’t touch the bag.”
The church stood along their right, past the opening to the gardens and the kitchen. Stefan did not see anyone on the church steps. The town square only now began to come alive for the day, with mules dragging loads of goods toward the market. Shutters were still drawn, trying to keep out the cold night air. Inside, most people were just waking, careful to avoid tumbling out of their high beds. Unlike Stefan, they had beds raised high, as high as a bed could be without collapsing. It made the bed warmer in the winter months. Warmth drove every design, all construction.
Stefan rubbed his arms and exhaled to watch the frost. Hard to believe women were already gathered at Dame Alice’s, nervous as hens.
“Is she beautiful?” a voice hissed.
Stefan jumped. He had kept his eyes on the market as he walked, inspecting the day’s beginning. He had not meant to come near the cage, though the dirty thick blanket still covered it.
“Is she?” she asked.
“Is who beautiful?” Stefan replied.
“The witch Bastion caught last night. Tell me of her.”
Stefan grabbed one end of the blanket and tugged. He held his breath as dirt and lice flew through the air.
“Bastion caught a witch? Is she from this town?” he asked her, careful to stay at a safe distance.
The witch stared at him, her head swaying from side to side. She did not reply.
“Where is Bastion now?” he asked.
She began sweeping her hands through the straw, looking for something. Her hands closed around something, and she pulled it to her chest.
“Do you want to see?” she asked. “I was beautiful.”
“No. Where is Bastion? What do you know of this witch?”
“I was beautiful, Father. But I do not cry about that anymore. I’m going to die.”
She thrust her hand through the bars. Stefan jumped back, startled, then saw she held out a tiny portrait to him, painted on a metal pendant. Someone would have worn this. A man—a husband, perhaps.
He did not reach for it, so she threw it at his feet. “Look at it.”
“I just want to know where Bastion is.”
“Look at it and I’ll tell you.”
He picked it up, keeping his eyes focused on her, his body tensing to spring back if she moved. She didn’t. He picked it up, turning it over to look at the portrait. It showed a woman with long gloss-black hair left free and flowing down across her shoulders. She had the skin of a newborn, smooth and perfect in tone, just a little pink in her cheeks and lips, an exquisite face—a woman of such beauty that he had no words to say, no comments he could make that would be proper. He did not know how a woman so beautiful could be brought so low. Only perversion would cage such a beauty. She had first become a monster, surely. How gravely she must have offended the Lord. Stefan tossed the pendant back between the bars and stepped back. He wanted nothing to do with this.
“I looked at it. Where is Bastion?”
“Did you look closely?”
“Where is Bastion?”
“I think that is your sin. You do not look closely at anyone.”
Stefan turned to walk off.
“He went off with the young daughter of the miller. Look closely at her, Father. She is beautiful too.”
“What would he want with Iris?” Stefan asked. Iris had reached all of fifteen years, but she never missed a Mass.
The witch grinned, and Stefan saw she had a perfectly straight set of teeth, which shocked him. They were yellow, but they were all there.
“Do you look closely at anyone? Do you know the mind of men?”
“What does he want with Iris? What has she done?” he asked.
“Nothing yet. But she will. Bastion will convince her to. She will sin because that is who she is, but Bastion will save her.”
“That’s blasphemy.”
“No, Father, Bastion can do it. He is going to save me.”
“You are condemned as a witch living in a filthy cage. You have not been saved.”
“But I will be,” she answered.
“So he taught you of Christ? He promises to lead you to Him?”
“Nay, he taught me of Satan. I will burn one day, and Satan will be expelled from my body. My sins will be atoned for, and I will be free.”