Putting a plan in motion

Morning came.

I was used to the birds on my farm singing in the morning light.

Here, there was only silence.

The sunlight streamed in through the window.

I watched a spider spinning a web in a corner of the room. There was a pile of dirt and dust below his web.

Just what I needed.

Our jailer arrived a short time later. He brought more bread and water.

“The judge will see you in an hour,” he snarled, and left.

“Instead of pouring it out, give me the water,” I said, handing Nicholas my little flask.

I took the water and went into the corner.

“What are you doing?” Nicholas asked as he chewed on the stale bread.

“I like to leave behind messages wherever I go,” I said. I smiled at him and shrugged. “It’s one of my quirks.”

“You are a strange man,” he said, smiling. “Carrying on conversations with yourself, throwing your voice, making ink out of dirt and water.”

I chuckled, then started to mix the soil and water in my hand, making a thin, black mud.

When it was the right consistency, I went to the window and began to write on the sill.

“What kind of letters are those?” Nicholas asked, looking over my shoulder.

“Runes,” I said. “I learned them in my travels.”

I didn’t tell him I learned them from the elves.

“No one will understand them,” he said.

“That’s part of the pleasure. It will puzzle them.”

“But might they think they’re wizard letters?”

“Perhaps. But I think we will be free before any of the villagers see it.”

Or, I hoped, none of them would see it – but my elves would.

“What are you writing?” he asked.

“Oh, I think it’s something you’d consider nonsense. But this last one is my name.”

I hoped he wouldn’t keep pressing. Fortunately, we heard the constable returning.

We left the window and went to the door.

The door opened.

“The judge waits.”

We followed him out into the hall. He opened Anna’s cell. Nicholas approached her to hug her. The constable snarled.

“Stay away from the witch.”

“That must still be proven,” I said.

I could see Nicholas getting upset.

“Keep quiet before the judge,” I whispered. “Let me talk.”

“Quiet you two,” the constable snapped.

He led us out of the jail. A small crowd stood waiting.

“There’s the witch!”

“I’ve got fire wood waiting!”

“Let’s not waste time on a trial!”

“We have to do it right,” the constable growled.

We entered the town hall. It was filled.

Sitting in the front of the hall was a tall, thin man. At first, I thought it was the priest, but then I saw the priest enter from a side door with the farmer.

It suddenly dawned on me: the priest, the judge, and the farmer were all relatives.

I looked about the room, and saw several windows, all of them open.

Good.

“Let the trial begin,” the judge said.