de Joel, smashed against the castle walls. That was the name of the noblewoman who had jumped from the castle roof. Fiona already doubted that she had jumped by herself, not without the help of birds.
Her touch made the body on the pole twitch. The dead man’s eyes fluttered open. They were rotten, but not torn out.
«You are the redheaded spirit!» The dead lips whispered.
«So you are not dead?»
«How could you tell?» The empty eyes, without pupils, were dead for sure.
She wondered if the corpse had come back to life and spoke to her. More like another dream.
«What happened to you all?» She asked. It was foolish to speak to a dead man. She wondered what kind of trouble it would lead to. That it would drag her back to the other world. But she was used to getting into trouble.
«The birds have flown in!» whispered the crucified corpse, whose hands and feet were pinned to the pole with what looked like shards of claws. «They were crowned birds! Run from them! And no, it’s too late to run! You have a mark on your forehead! They’ll find you anyway!»
Fiona touched her forehead. There was blood running down it. The bird’s claw had left a deep wound there. It was strange that the wound had opened now.
«Get the witch!» There was a shrill cry from behind her.
She turned around excitedly, and this time she didn’t think so. A group of men, including uniformed guardsmen and inquisitorial robes, were rushing toward the carriage. She was in trouble.
«Tell them that I am not a witch, but that you yourself have come back to life to denounce the culprits!» She turned to the dead man, but once again he was nothing but a silent corpse. No matter how much she shook him, he wouldn’t make a sound.
And if he had, it might not have saved her. There is a belief in the Inquisition that at the sight of the culprit the corpse may come to life and reveal the name of the murderer. Stop! It was at the sight of the culprit. He did come to life at the sight of her. Of course, she is by no means the culprit of his death, but his gesture can be interpreted in two ways. Suddenly the witnesses did. At their head was a lady in a splendid gown and ermine robe, which only royalty have the right to wear. It was this very lady that Fiona had recently met in a cave high in the mountains and had almost fallen prey to her.
«Seize her like a witch!» Ornella commanded, pointing a finger in a gleaming ring at Fiona. «It is her handiwork.»
Does she believe it herself, or is she still expressing her displeasure that all her brothers have a crush on the village girl. Fiona heard something about not messing with powerful people or they’ll find a way to get even with you. You’ve annoyed them in a trifle you can’t punish, so they’ll accuse you of something serious later, and everyone will be on their side and not yours.
Ornella was clearly proving how true these warnings were. If you can’t feed Fiona to the griffins, you must accuse her of witchcraft.
«I’m not a witch!» Fiona screamed, but her shouts were as useful as the squeak of a caught sparrow. The guardsmen grabbed her tightly.
«Only a witch could have done such a thing,» Ornella nodded eloquently at the disemboweled corpses in the carriage. «We are fortunate that we caught her at the scene of the crime. The entire Marquis de Palette’ family will be avenged, including their unfortunate young apprentice. Look what she’s done to Claretta! She doesn’t even have eyes left.
Ornella unceremoniously tugged at the cassock of one of the inquisitors, obviously the head inquisitor.
«But she has no claws on her hands,» remarked the youngest of the inquisitors judiciously. «Let me examine her. She does not look like a witch. Not unless she’s a heretic.»
«Or a harlot,» added the black-clad companion in disgust. «Look how red her hair is. It is a sign of vice! It is the mark of the devil.»
«Lady Claretta had red hair too,» the young inquisitor intervened again. «That is not yet proof.»
He clearly wanted to help the unfortunate woman who was caught like a rabbit in a trap. Maybe someone close to him had also been the victim of an unjust massacre, which made him sympathetic to others now. But finding sand and earth residue under Fiona’s fingernails, even he suspected something was amiss. And then there was the sickle pendant that sparkled around her neck, catching their attention at just the wrong time.
It is the sign of Satan,» the Inquisitors murmured like a flock of black crows.
«Perhaps she herself has been bewitched,» the young inquisitor tried once more to shield her. Apparently he had a crush on Fiona, though he was ashamed of it. «Look how badly she herself has been cut.»
«Witches often wound themselves to perform a ritual,» Ornella protested bluntly.
«I’ve never heard of such a thing. I have questioned many witches.»
«My servant girl saw her doing witchcraft in the mountains,» Ornella insisted, that is, she lied shamelessly.
«Is it the slave girl?» Someone of the inquisitors raised a doubtful eyebrow.
«Charisi knows all about witch cults.»
«And how did she conjure?» The young inquisitor asked.
«She is dancing in a circle of fire.»
«It is very doubtful.»
«I am in charge here, not you!» Ornella was tired of playing, and she said her final word. After that, she was defied in a moment. The inquisitors were whispering excitedly. Obviously, they were discussing what to do next. Remembering Ornella’s status, they did not want to argue with her. And what was her status? She was definitely royalty, judging by the ermine robe and the jagged crown with rubies, almost lost in the intricate hair of lush auburn curls. Moreover, Ornella reeked of arrogance. Only people from the very top of society behaved like that. The rest of us have to fawn and grovel before them.
She wondered where her brothers were, and would they stand up for Fiona if they knew she was in trouble? Or would they and Ornella have conspired? Then it’s strange why they didn’t come with their sister. Maybe they would have felt sorry for their new girlfriend. But there was no time to ponder. The clear-cut verdict that she was a witch was more jarring to her ears than the claws of a gryphon.
Witch for griffins
«You’ve made a mistake!» Fiona tried to break free, and the gold in her pockets spilled out onto the road.
«How could a simple peasant girl have so much gold?» Ornella triumphed. «She conjured it up. Everyone knows that witches can turn the blood of their victims, tortured under the moon, into gold or silver.»
«She could have just stolen it,» remarked someone sensible. He was so close!
«I found it. It is treasure,» protested Fiona, and Ornella suddenly looked at her with great interest.
«She is a treasure-hunter!» She murmured in amazement. She would have pouted a little more, but the verdict could not be reversed.
