The Scribe(167)



Theresa wriggled as though she had been bitten by a snake, but Hoos kept laughing. He informed her that, from what they had told him, she would not even have a trial.

“It looks like you’ve really f*cked up. They’ve already prepared the gallows for you.”

As the door opened, Hoos immediately moved away. Alcuin, Wilfred, and Drogo—the missus dominicus—appeared in the room. Wilfred was surprised to see Hoos beside Theresa.

“I wanted to see her alone one last time,” explained the young man. “She and I…”

Alcuin attested to the fact that the couple had been in a rather unchristian relationship. Wilfred nodded and ordered Hoos to leave the room. When he had gone, he urged on the dogs, which pulled him near Theresa. “In the name of God and His son Jesus Christ, for the last time, I exhort you to reveal to us the whereabouts of the document. We know that you understand its significance—so confess, and we will be generous enough to end your suffering. But persist in your attitude and you will feel the torment of fire on your flesh,” he threatened.

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.”

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