Wolves Among Us(37)

Stefan did not answer. Mia prayed for him to say something. There had never been a burning in this village. Mia thought she had escaped the burning days. Never did she think there could be a burning here, and never that Rose would die in one. Mia stared at Father Stefan, trying to catch his eye. She was tormented. How could Rose be the witch? Mia desired justice—without pause, she desired for a clean home and good and righteous life—but Rose had been her friend. How could she support burning the widow?

Mia could tell that Father Stefan avoided looking at Mia or Alma. “Yes, that is my office,” Stefan said.

“Then look upon her, Father Stefan.” Bastion grabbed the widow by the chin, forcing her face up in the bonfire’s light. Mia saw her eyes blinking only at strange, slow intervals. Her lip looked swollen and purple. Blood matted the hair along her forehead. Mia looked around to see if any of the women would come forward and offer to clean her face. Rose would not want people seeing her like this. She had always been so beautiful, so much more delicate than Mia.

Bastion spoke to Stefan in a voice the crowd could hear. “Have mercy, Father Stefan, on this poor woman. Would you leave her in the Devil’s bosom? Would you leave her to wallow in her filth, to return like a dog to its vomit? Is that mercy?”

Stefan shook his head.

“You may begin, Bjorn,” Bastion said. Looking back at the woman, Bastion spit. “May God have mercy on your soul.”

Mia looked at the faces of her townspeople. Would they stand and watch? Mia could not. She turned to run.

“Mia.”

Rose had called her name.

Mia turned her attention back to Rose, her eyes clear and fierce as the woman screamed at Mia.

“He’ll do this to you, too. Flee. Flee tonight.”

Mia saw Bjorn raise the whip as she scooped up little Alma and ran, as best she could, finding the dark path home.

She heard Dame Alice’s voice calling to her from the darkness. “Mia, come this way! Please!” A group of women huddled around Dame Alice, their eyes cold.

Mia ran with Alma, alone.



Mia ran as far into the forest as she could with Alma, but the child grew too heavy. Mia sat her down under a huge tree and leaned against it to catch her breath.

“You think I am a monster.”

Mia cried out in fear, whirling to find the source of the voice. Bastion stood, not far from her tree, and began walking with his hands extended in peace.

“I did not mean to frighten you, Mia. May I call you Mia? I never asked permission, and I should have. I am sorry.”

“You may.”

“I do not care for titles. I have several of my own and find them all a distraction.”

“How did you get here so fast?”

Bastion shrugged, dropping his hands. “’Tis not hard to be fast when you do not carry a child. Would you like me to carry her for you?”

She took a step back to shield Alma from his eyes. “Leave her. She needs sleep.”

“You’re upset about the scourging.”

“Scourging? If she was guilty, she deserved it, I suppose. But to burn her …”

“I wonder what you think of me. A gentle woman like yourself must think I am a monster.”

“Why does it matter what I think?”

“Because I have so few friends. I would like to consider you a friend.”

“Rose. I knew her. It doesn’t seem right.” She had to know what sort of man could do that before she pursued a pleasant conversation.

“You think I do not suffer on nights like this? You think I take pleasure in a death? I feel pain. I do not show it, but I feel it. My work takes a great toll on my spirit. And I have no family, no wife to comfort me when I have done the Lord’s will. I am the disciple Christ wrote of, the hunted animal with nowhere to lay its head at night, loved by no one.”

“You forget God.”

“What?”

“You forget that God loves His servants. You are not unloved.” She would not respond as perhaps he hoped. His remark sounded more like bait than true conversation.

“Listen to me, burdening a good woman with my sorrows,” Bastion said with a laugh. “Yes, of course, God loves all His servants. Please forgive me. I am not always a strong man like your husband. You are a lucky woman to be so loved.”

Bastion looked on the brink of tears. He had promised her healing for Alma, and Alma had been healed. If Bastion had delivered the healing, Mia should be grateful. She knew she should push her heart to open to him. Even Bjorn thought so. Mia bit her lip.

“No, please forgive me, sir. I should offer you what comforts I have.”

“And what comforts are those?’ he asked. Her knees felt weak as he moved closer.

“None, save my ears,” Mia said, aware of what a fool she sounded like. “I can listen as well as any woman. Though I have little wisdom to make comment. But you can talk. I can offer a listening ear.”

A woman’s scream broke the moment, making them both turn their heads back toward the town. Howls from the forest echoed her scream all around them. Mia knew she was unsafe, but she could not be sure the wolves were the only beasts to fear.

“Bjorn has taken to my teaching quite quickly,” he said. “He wasted no time setting to work. He will be tired when he returns tonight. I wonder what you will do to pass your evening?”