faces, blocking the smell. A worse smell, almost inhuman, seeped from the cage Erick drew near. No one wanted to know what could be inside the cage, covered by a thick wool blanket, but no one could turn away. They pressed their clothes harder against their mouths and noses so that only their eyes remained visible on their faces. Stefan could not tell them apart.
Bastion stepped in front of the cage, giving the people something to focus on, an excuse to look away from Catarina’s lovely blonde hair rising up to the moon as it caught fire.
“Search your hearts. Think on Catarina, a seducing witch who caused an innocent man’s death. Consider what evil hides among you. Witches are real, my friends. The Bible teaches their existence and says we must not suffer a witch to live. These witches, what do they want from you? Do you know? Have you guessed? A witch craves what is forbidden, and what is forbidden but carnal knowledge? Witches will drive a good man to do terrible things. And their power in this village may be great.”
“But what of the cage?” Erick asked. “What is inside?”
“No, I can see I have told you all too much tonight. Go home and rest.”
Stefan moved beside Erick. “Where shall I put the cage?” He would secure it somewhere out of sight. Bastion would probably sleep in tomorrow, and everyone would be anxious to attend the first Mass of the day. Stefan would use his most thunderous voice to speak the old Latin words. The people would find great comfort in Stefan—the way a child runs to his mother after a frightful dream in the night.
“Put the cage where it can be secured at all hours, near the church,” Bastion answered. He said it loud enough for several men in the front row to hear. “No one must be allowed near it for fear of their very salvation.”
“What is it?” Stefan asked, ready to kick himself as the words left his mouth. He sounded as eager as Erick.
“I think it’s an animal,” Erick whispered to him. “Smell it.”
Bastion sighed as if exasperated. “Let me relieve your impatience,” he said, then took hold of the corner of the wool blanket. With a violent snap it ripped away. A beast crouched in the corner, thick, tangled hair hanging down past its spreading haunches. It was covered in filth. A handful of yellow teeth broke the dark opening of its mouth; underneath, its eyes were covered with crusts of mucus. As the crowd watched, it picked at a scab.
Stefan studied the beast with the slow realization that it was a woman. Erick ran to the edge of the woods and vomited.
“She, too, once had a name, a home. But the Devil came to her window one night, and she beckoned him in. How handsome he must have looked to her in the moonlight, a seducing serpent. Look upon her, ladies. This is what becomes of the woman who abides with the Devil. See what has become of her beauty. Look upon her and know what it means to be abandoned by mercy. Behold, a witch!”
No woman found the strength to look at her. Their heads were bowed, and they cried into their shawls. Stefan heard little whispers of prayers, as if they could repent right then of every wrong they had done if it would save them from this woman’s fate.
“Go now! Go and pray to be spared!” Bastion called as the people fled into darkness in all directions, through gardens and past homes, trampling the tender green growths of the fresh and innocent spring that had overcome winter.
Chapter Nine
Mia kept her eyes on the ladle, careful to scoop from the sides to get the hottest portion of the stew to please Bjorn. She ladled it into his bowl then pushed the ladle deep into the center of the pot, touching bottom, scraping up thick chunks of the best meat and depositing them in his bowl. She picked a soft leaf of sage from the plate on the table and tore at its edges, dropping the bits in a neat cluster in the center of the stew. Her mouth watered at the thought of her own bowl, and she fantasized about a chance to