The Lady of Secrets Read Free Page B

witches’ coven gathering at the kirk, weaving their foul spells. What man would not want vengeance against those who had threatened the life of his young wife?
    But the king was said to be a scholar, a man of vast intelligence and knowledge. He was likened to the great King Solomon. No matter what old Tam claimed she had whispered in the king’s ear, could any man so wise truly believe in her nonsense? Could the king look upon Rob’s childlike sister and imagine Maidred possessed of an evil power to brew storms and sink ships?
    Rob’s head swam as he weighed the possibilities, balancing reason against his own desperate wishes. The scales of his mind teetered, leaving him torn between hope and despair.
    Lost in his thoughts, he was taken unaware when the crowd fell back, nearly knocking him off his feet. Righting himself, he saw the cause of the commotion. A horse and cart had emerged from the castle, two women tied in the back.
    “Witch! Witch! Devil’s strumpet!” The cries went up.
    As the wagon lumbered past, the prisoners were pelted with clumps of mud and rotting cabbages. Rob tried to put a stop to it, but there were far too many in the crowd hurling abuse.
    Rob’s only comfort was that most of it was aimed at Tamsin,although he was astonished to see that there was someone who cared about the crone’s fate as well.
    Two slatternly-looking wenches with red hair trotted alongside the cart and stretched out their hands to the old woman. “Granddam! Granddam!” they wailed.
    Rob supposed he should have felt some pity for the two girls when the guards drove them back. But his jaw hardened. Tamsin had had no compunction about luring his innocent sister into danger, but obviously the wily old woman had taken care that none of her own kin should be put at risk. Those two strumpets had not been among those arrested at the church, but surely they must be as steeped in witchcraft as their grandmother. If there were any justice, they should have been bound with Tamsin in the cart instead of Rob’s sweet sister.
    Like Tamsin, Maidred had been stripped down to her shift, and her hair … those wayward silky curls that Rob had oft tugged at and teased his sister for being so vain. That golden brown mane had been shaved to a stubble, leaving Maidred looking like a shorn lamb. So young, so scared and lost.
    Thrusting himself forward, Rob waved his arm so that she might see him, know he was there. Her lips curved into such a brave little smile, it nigh broke his heart. She touched the front of her shift where the pouch he had given her was concealed. Despite the hope Tamsin offered, he had insisted Maidred wear it and his sister had not resisted, believing it to be magic.
    Rob felt sick. What kind of man did a thing like that? Fastened a lethal dose of gunpowder around his unsuspecting sister’s neck. No man at all, only a boy too weak and ineffectualto do anything but help his sister to a less agonizing death. He should have tried harder, found some way to rescue her even if it cost him his life.
    The king was Maidred’s only hope. As the cart trundled onward, Rob kept pace, trying to keep in her view, a difficult feat with so many people milling about him.
    Caught up in the crowd, Rob followed the cart through the city gates, toward an open stretch of field. He could see the stakes mounted on the rising ground, the faggots heaped and waiting, all a safe distance away, where no stray spark could bring disaster upon the buildings of Edinburgh.
    As the cart was reined to a halt, Rob craned his neck, looking desperately about him. Where was the king? Surely James should have arrived by now. Perhaps he wasn’t even coming.
    Had not Rob also heard that the king had an abhorrence of crowds? Perhaps James had changed his mind about attending. Perhaps the rumors were untrue and there had never been any possibility the king would come.
    Rob watched as his weeping sister was dragged from the back of the cart. He bowed his head,