Page 2 of Warrior’s Lady

Her accuser.

The bishop entered the chamber, his ornate cape fluttering to a stop as he filled the open doorway. He bowed his head, bearing its tall triangular hat, in greeting. The man looked more like the harbinger of death than a shepherd to his people.

"Bishop Berwick." Mother Agnes glared at the supposed holy man with burning, reproachful eyes. "Healing the sick has never been an act of witchcraft."

"Good day to you both, Mother Agnes, Lady Lockhart. The charges stand." He signaled for the guard at the door to enter. "Escort Mother Agnes to her horse cart."

The guard clasped the nun's arm. Mother Agnes jerked away. "I will not abandon Clara in her time of need."

The bishop's dark eyes grew stormy. "Stay until she swings if you must. But you will leave us alone while I take the woman's confession."

The guard reached for the nun's arm once more, his grip solid, despite her attempts to break free. Over her objections, he wrestled her from the prison cell.

As Mother Agnes's voice faded in the distance, the bishop's gaze filled with contempt. "Now that your little savior is gone, I'll ask you one last time: Where is the Charm Stone?"

Clara looked away. A long, heavy silence ensued as she struggled with her thoughts. She knew the bishop would never drop the charges of sorcery, that she would face her death whether or not she revealed the location of the Stone. And yet, some part of her hoped, prayed, that he might be merciful.

She inhaled a shaky breath, knowing what her response must be. She met his hard, unyielding gaze. "I can give you no knowledge of the Stone."

"The widow Clarence said in her confession that you healed her phlegmatic chest. She was quite willing to call your work a miracle. But we both know that cannot be true." He narrowed his eyes. "Miracles are not performed by mere commoners. Therefore, you must be a witch. "

"You would violate your sacred privilege in taking a woman's confession for your own personal gain?" Shock caused the words to wedge in her throat.

His gaze hardened. "I'll do what I must to get that Stone. Tell me where it is or I'll be forced to wrest that information from your daughter."

"Leave Violet alone." Anger deepened her voice.

"For the last time, where is the Stone?"

Clara clamped her jaw tight. He'd get nothing from her.

"Fool."

Clara kept her shoulders straight. Her daughter and the Stone would be safe.

The bishop shot her a withering glance. "So be it." He signaled with his hand, and two more guards appeared at the doorway. "Take her to the gallows."

Her anger faded and fear permeated her mind, but she allowed only courage to reflect in her gaze. Clara strode toward the men with grim purpose. At the bishop's side, she hesitated. "I go to my death with a clear conscience and a pure heart. Will the same be said of you?" She caught his gaze with her own. In his eyes, she saw a flicker of fear before rage swamped it.

"Who are you to judge me?" His hand snaked out.

Stinging pain blossomed across her cheek. "An innocent woman."

"God will judge innocence, but here on earth your death will serve as a warning to the clan of Lockhart. One of you will surrender that Stone or all of you will meet a violent end."

Violet.Clara hoped her own sacrifice would be enough to protect her daughter. Let the bishop's threats be hollow.

Clara looked in the man's eyes again, and fought to keep despair from rising anew at the cold determination in his eyes.