Free Witchstruck by Victoria Lamb Page B

surprise, he smiled at that. ‘You have courage. I admire that in a woman. But there comes a time when jests must be laid aside, and the sword taken up. And this is such a time.’
    At these words, I glanced at his sword belt and saw that it was no longer there. ‘Why do you wear a sword, anyway?’ I demanded. ‘I thought you were training to be a priest. Why carry a weapon? And all that armour you were wearing when you arrived . . .’
    ‘I am a novice in the Holy Catholic Order of Santiago,’ he said patiently, as though explaining something very simple to a three-year-old. ‘We are a martial order of priests. That means we fight in battle for the honour of Jesus and all the Holy Saints, and are entitled to wear the armour and weapons of a soldier of Christ.’
    ‘So where’s your sword now?’
    Alejandro looked momentarily taken aback. ‘In my bedchamber. I do not wear it
everywhere
.’
    ‘You surprise me.’
    His brows rose once more. ‘
Mi querida
,’ he said drily, ‘I have not yet said what I came here to say, and my five minutes is almost up.’
    ‘What does that mean . . .
mee
. . .
mee cereeda
. . .?’
    ‘It means . . .’ His smile twisted. ‘It means I don’t want to see you hang. Now be quiet for a moment and listen. It will be dawn soon, and your witchfinder will be here to interrogate you—’
    ‘You can leave Marcus Dent to me,’ I exclaimed, then saw the black look on his face and realized I had interrupted him again. ‘Sorry, you were saying?’
    ‘I am going to need a diversion. Can you provide one?’
    I searched his face. ‘What for?’
    ‘I intend to enter the Lady Elizabeth’s bedchamber and tell her what has happened,’ he explained, his tone so confident that I nodded, though I was finding it difficult to concentrate on his words, mesmerized instead by the velvety-dark lilt of his accent. ‘I do not believe she has been told about this accusation of witchcraft, and I think it imperative that she is.’
    ‘Elizabeth’s door is always guarded.’
    ‘Hence the need for a diversion,’ he reminded me gently.
    ‘It won’t work. She’s been sick for days. Blanche would never let you in.’
    ‘The diversion,’ he murmured again, picking straw out of my mattress.
    I frowned, the strange intensity of his presence in my chamber suddenly catching up with me.
    ‘I don’t understand. Why are you helping me? I’m accused of being a witch, of worshipping the Devil. Don’t you want to see me hang for it?’
    His eyes lifted to survey me, serious again. ‘I’ve seen enough Spanish women burned at the stake as witches and heretics to know that hanging is a merciful death. It would be a pity to stretch such a beautiful neck though.’
    I swallowed, and with an effort pushed away that horrific, unwanted image of my last moments.
    He hesitated. ‘Besides, it is not too late to repent.’
    ‘I have nothing to repent.’
    ‘The charge is false? You are not a witch?’
    Oddly, I couldn’t lie to him. ‘I didn’t say that. But what I do is not evil.’
    ‘Witchcraft is against God’s law,’ Alejandro pointed out. ‘
Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live
.’
    ‘Yet Jesus performed magick in God’s name. What else were his miracles but magick?’
    ‘Blasphemy,’ he muttered, clearly shocked.
    ‘The truth,’ I countered. ‘If I were able to walk on water, would you call that a miracle? Or magick?’
    ‘That’s different.’
    ‘Why?’
    He sat back, staring at me. ‘I see you have the makings of a theologian, Meg. Unfortunately, we have no time to debate the holy miracles of Christ. The witchfinder will be here soon. Once he removes you from Woodstock, I will no longer be able to help you. Which I very much wish to do.’
    ‘Thanks,’ I muttered. ‘So you want me to create a diversion that will get Blanche Parry and the guards away from Elizabeth’s chamber door long enough for you to go in and speak to her alone? It will have to be something amazing—’
    This