He noticed that Theresa wished to speak. He requested that the gag be removed, but Alcuin objected. “If she wanted to, she would have confessed already.” He pulled down her dress to reveal the bloody slashes on her back. “Let us wait until the flames lick at her feet, then we’ll see whether her tongue remains idle.”
Drogo agreed. Alcuin had informed him of everything that had happened, and they decided to burn the young woman following dinner, straight after the None service. Then they left the room, leaving her in the company of a sentry who was instructed to prevent anyone from approaching her.
Izam heard what was happening from Gundrada, a barrel-bellied cook who had confided in Gratz when he had helped with the provisions for the kitchens. In addition to preparing the order for the ship, the woman sent a gourd pie for Izam. While wrapping it, she told Izam that the execution would take place at the fortress, for according to Alcuin, the townspeople would not approve of the execution of a young woman who had been resurrected only a few days earlier.
“I heard the last bit when I hid behind a curtain,” she said with a laugh, pleased with herself, while she added an extra apple. “I for one don’t understand it. If she was such a miracle, how can she now be such a criminal? I like that lass, though of course, all I know about is cooking. Try the pie.” And she laughed again raucously, proud of what she knew.
Izam bit into the pie, which he found to be hard and tasteless. He paid her for the food and calculated the time. Then he prayed that his plan would be better than the cook’s gourd pie.
He left the food in the storehouse and made for the tower, where—according to Urginda—they would burn the young woman. The imposing stone tower sat on a crag at the top of the fortress, making it the last stronghold. From the tower one could see not only Würzburg but also the entrances to the town, the Main Valley, and the ravines in the hills. Once he was at the foot of the tower, he discovered that its age and insufficient maintenance meant that the watchtower was propped up against a great timber beam, the top end of which rested against the inside of the fortress wall.
He grimaced when he saw a pyre in the entrance courtyard. The area was difficult to access, surrounded as it was by a precipice with the fortress moat at the bottom. Izam crouched behind a stack of firewood and waited for the procession to arrive.
It started to rain. He wrapped himself in his cloak and consoled himself with the thought that the water would make lighting the pyre more difficult. Soon the bells rang to signal the end of Vespers. While he waited, he examined the strange tree trunk that shored up the tower, bridging the gap. He thought to himself that one could use it to climb right over the huge hole between the tower and the walls.
After a while Wilfred’s carriage appeared. He was followed by Drogo, Alcuin, and Flavio Diacono, richly attired. Behind them trudged Theresa, who was guarded by a pair of sentries. Izam crouched lower when the dogs pulled the contraption closer to the pyre. The servants assisting Wilfred drove their torches into the ground. The rain continued to grow heavier. At the count’s signal, the guards grabbed Theresa, who seemed half-asleep. They were about to lift her on to the pyre when Izam stood up.
“What in hell’s name!” sputtered Wilfred when he saw him. The sentries took up their weapons, but Drogo stopped them.
“Izam, is that you?” the missus asked in surprise.
The young man bowed to him.
“Magistrate, this young woman is innocent. You cannot allow this.”
When he tried to approach Theresa, the guards blocked his path. Wilfred roused his dogs, who barked as if possessed. Then he ordered his soldiers to light the pyre. But Izam pulled out a dagger and threw it. The weapon cleaved through the air and thumped into the chair directly under Wilfred’s genitals. He took another dagger from his belt and took aim again. “I assure you that if you have a heart, my dagger will find it,” he threatened.
“Izam, don’t be a fool,” the missus warned. “This young woman has stolen a document of vital importance. I don’t know what force is guiding you, but I have already decided that she will pay for her crime with her life.”
“She has not stolen anything. She has been by my side since she left the scriptorium,” the engineer replied without lowering his weapon.
“That is not what Alcuin has told me.”
“Then Alcuin lies,” he emphatically declared.
“Heretic!” bellowed the monk.
The rain continued to pour insistently while the men stood unsure of what would happen next. Izam took a deep breath. It was time for his final ploy. He took a few steps forward, gripped the crucifix that hung from his neck, and fell on his knees before Drogo.
“I call for a trial by ordeal!”
They all fell silent, amazed. A trial by ordeal invariably ended in death.
“If you are trying to save her…” Wilfred warned him.
“I demand it!” He pulled his crucifix from his neck and held it up to the heavens.
Drogo cleared his throat. The missus looked at Wilfred, then Flavio, and finally to Alcuin. The first two shook their heads, but Alcuin argued that it was impossible to survive an ordeal.
“So, you will be judged by God, will you? Approach,” Drogo ordered. “Do you know what you are getting yourself into?”
Izam nodded. He knew that the usual way these trials went was to force the accused to walk barefoot on red-hot bars: If his feet burned, he was guilty, but if by divine mediation they were unharmed, then he would be proclaimed innocent. Or, they might cast him into the river with bound feet and hands: If he floated, he would be absolved of his sins. However, Izam’s plan was to insist on trial by combat, which was a possible option when there were two opponents. He challenged Alcuin.
“But he is not being accused,” Wilfred objected.
“Alcuin claims that Theresa stole from him, but I say that he is lying. In which case, only God can decide who is the lost sheep.”
“What utter nonsense! Have you forgotten that Alcuin is the shepherd and Theresa is the sheep?”
At that moment, Alcuin approached Izam, looked him in the eyes, and snatched the crucifix from him.
“I accept the ordeal.”
After agreeing that they would meet at the pyre at dawn, they all went back inside. Izam returned to the ship having been promised by the missus that nothing would happen to Theresa. Meanwhile Wilfred, Flavio, and Alcuin discussed the ordeal.
“You should not have accepted,” Wilfred repeated, incensed. “There was no reason why you—”
“I know what I’m doing, I promise you. Think about it. In reality, what you believe to be an act of insanity is the perfect way to justify an execution, which, in the eyes of the populace, would be controversial.”
“What do you mean?”
“The masses idolize Theresa. They believe she has come back from the dead. To put her to death now makes no sense, especially if we are accusing her of a crime that we can’t really talk about. A trial by ordeal, on other hand, would mean that God has justified it.”
“But you know nothing of arms. Izam will send you to hell.”