Free The Vow by Jody Hedlund

question him, to demand that he explain his presence in my town. But as he made a direct path to the cauldron of bubbling water, I found myself praying he’d succeed where I had failed to bring an end to the torture.
    With a precision and strength that no doubt came from years of training, the knight slashed the halberd’s axe-head into the knotted rope binding the criminal on the ground, freeingfirst one hand then the other. Within seconds, the man was sitting and frantically working to unbind his feet.
    The knight shifted to the bubbling cauldron. Again, he lifted his halberd, and this time swung around the fluke that hooked into the metal chain suspending the pot from the tripod. The knight gave his horse a kick that caused the beast to jolt forward. The swift jerk was all it took for the tripod to tip and then topple to the ground. As the cauldron crashed, boiling water splashed over the fire and onto the bailiff and other townspeople, who jumped back with cries. The poor old man who’d been inside, naked except for the breech cloth at his waist, rolled into a quivering heap.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” the bailiff called, brushing at the splatters of hot water soaking into his hose.
    The knight steered his horse toward the newly freed criminal. The old man pushed himself up and held out shaking hands that were tied together at the wrist. His face was wreathed in gratitude. “Thank you, sir,” he croaked.
    Before the bailiff could protest further, the knight unsheathed his sword and slit the rope at the man’s wrists. Then he reached down, clasped the old man’s arm, and hoisted him onto the horse behind him. Though red and raw, the criminal wrapped his arms around the knight’s armor and clung to him.
    Only then did I dare to take a breath. The old man suffered burns and blisters from his ordeal, but he was free from his torture at last.
    The bailiff pointed his dagger at the knight. “By whose authority are you disrupting this execution of justice?”
    The knight said nothing. Instead he urged his horse away from the bailiff and trotted along the path he’d already made through the crowd. The townspeople were too stunned by his display of strength, just as I was, to utter a word.
    With the pointed tip of his halberd, he caught the cloakof a merchant in passing, lifted the flowing garment, and held it out to the criminal so that the man could shield his unclad body from onlookers.
    The bailiff’s indignation rose in the now silent square. But the knight didn’t stop until he reached the guildhall. Only then did he sidle his horse against the tall stairway and help the criminal dismount so that the old man slid to his knees before me.
    At the sight of me standing at the top of the guildhall steps, gasps wove through the marketplace, and soon every person, young and old, bowed to one knee. From atop his steed, the knight, too, lowered his head.
    “Thank you, my lady,” the criminal spoke through cracked lips. I recognized him as one of the men I’d recently pardoned. He’d been accused of stealing out of the parish coffers so that he could pay his rent and provide food for the numerous orphan children he kept in his care. I’d determined then, as I did now, that he didn’t deserve punishment but rather benevolence.
    I tucked the cloak more securely around his shuddering body before rising to my full height and straightening my shoulders with frustration. Who had dared to override my compassion? And why?
    I narrowed my eyes on the bailiff and constable, who had knelt along with the rest. “Bailiff,” I called. “I shall require an answer for this blatant disregard of my laws.”
    He lifted his head, and fear flashed across his countenance. “I was only carrying out the sheriff’s orders, my lady.”
    My frustration fanned hotter. I should have known. The sheriff hadn’t approved of my leniency among the populace. But with two recent outbreaks of a mysterious illness in outlying areas, the