Echoes From the Mist (21 page)

Bridget’s yell startled Will so badly that he lost his balance and stumbled over his own two feet, ending up on his butt in the snow. "Ouch," he complained belatedly, in a flat voice.

"Damn." Bridget’s covered her face with her hand and laughed mirthlessly. After a moment, she took a deep breath and walked to the side wall where she violently tore open a shutter, tearing it off the wall in the process. Gray light poured into the room and with her heart in her throat she stared at the last stall, seeing clearly what had only been outlined in shadows before.

A saddle and set of tack hanging from a hook on the wall.

"Sweet Mother." She nearly sank to her knees in relief.

Will looked on in wonder, having no earthly idea what had just happened. He stood up and rubbed his backside, his eyes following Bridget as she crossed the room. "I can’t believe they’d leave valuable goods like that."

"I can," Bridget answered absently as she plucked a note from between the leather folds of the saddle and began to read.

Dearest Aunt Bridget,
After the shock wore off, I realized that you are far too stubborn to ever truly give up on anything. Especially yourself. As surely as my own heart beats, however, I know that you are alive but that I shall never lay eyes upon you again. Of Faylinn’s ultimate fate, I am less certain. If God is truly merciful and good then Faylinn is with you, wherever that may be.
I pray that someday you are able to forgive Elizabeth the darkness that dwells within her. It is a part of her as surely as good was, is, a part of you. She cannot change that. Yet I have faith that in time and with love she will learn to temper it. There IS good inside her.
No doubt you are here for Apollo. Rest assured that he lives and that I refused to surrender him to the Royal Navy. He could only ever have one master. He has been set free.
As you have.
The ship and my twin await, so I must close. Be well, Auntie.
In love and eternal respect,
Judith Redding
January 2, 1691

Bridget neatly folded the note and slid it into a pocket of her trousers. "Stubborn?" She laughed weakly and closed her eyes.
Thank you, Judith. Goodbye and be well.

"Bridget?

Her back to Will, Bridget opened her eyes as she straightened, resettling her cloak on her shoulders. "He’s here." She turned and smiled. "We need only find him."

Will smiled back, responding instinctively to the enthusiasm on Bridget’s face. "Where do we start?"

Bridget walked past him and back outside. She thought of her long time confidant, who, for most of her time here, was her only real friend. "C’mon. It’s a fair walk but I have an idea."

She began leading Will to the far side of the island and as they progressed the man decided to ask something he’d been wondering about for weeks. "Bridget?"

"Hmm?" She carefully stepped around a jagged stump.

"How is it you survived execution?"

Her step faltered, but she got hold of herself quickly and kept going. "Why haven’t you asked me sooner, Will?" She had seen the question on his face many times, heard his thoughts as he debated whether or not to voice them.

He let out a long breath, sending a pillar of fog from his mouth. "Because of Faylinn. Katie asked her once and she burst into tears." His heavy brow furrowed. "I thought it a subject best saved for when I was away from her company."

"Thank you," Bridget said softly, well aware that the subject of her execution was still too raw for Faylinn to speak about.

"Does she know?"

Bridget slowed her pace until Will was walking directly alongside her. "Does she know what?"

"How you survived."

"Ahh…" Bridget’s face grew serious. "Yes, she knows. We spoke of it once, when we first came to stay with you. It—" She paused, trying to find the right words. "It’s… hard for her, I suppose. She was there that night and truly believed, like everyone else, that I was dead. "

"If you don’t want to—"

Bridget shook her head. "No, Will, I’ll tell you." She cracked a smile. "Though the simple truth is probably less dramatic than you’ve imagined." To Bridget’s surprise, Will burst out laughing. In all the time she’d known him it was something she’d only seen once or twice.

"You don’t
want
to know what I’ve imagined."

Bridget smiled wryly and pointed to the left. "Pretty ridiculous, huh?"

Will filed in behind her as she began walking in the direction she’d pointed. "Tell me what happened and I’ll be the judge of whether or not it was ridiculous."

"Fair enough." Their trek began slanting upward and Bridget picked up a long stick as she walked, swinging it aimlessly as she recounted the events of that night.

"It was raining. No," she shook her head, "that’s not quite right. It wasn’t
just
raining. It was storming as though the heavens themselves were falling down around us. Lightning pierced the sky and thunder shook the entire island. Waves broke against the shore like great walls crashing down and hail pounded us when the rain finally gave way to the cold."

"I remember that night. We were holed up at home, afraid the world was coming to an end. I’ve never seen a storm like that."

"I was taken to the cliffs to be burned at the stake."

"In the pouring rain?"

Bridget and Will both snorted and indulged in a bit of gallows humor. "I never claimed my brother was clever."

"Poor Faylinn."

"Indeed. Anyway, the men of the Royal Navy, who were there to perform the execution, couldn’t even keep their torches lit; they decided that hanging would suit their purpose just as well. What they didn’t plan on was Faylinn. Cyril hadn’t told her what was to take place, but somehow she found out. She arrived at my execution scene atop Apollo amid the flashes of lightning. It was like something from a book and I had never seen her look so magnificent. She tried to reason with my brother before it was too late."

"Stop this madness before it’s too late. She is your sister for God’s sake. This will be an error you can never undo!"

Bridget’s lips formed a thin line. "But he would not be dissuaded and became hysterical with jealously. ‘Hang the witch!’ he shouted as he glared at me with eyes as cold and stony as a tomb." Now Bridget smiled. "He and I both got the surprise of our lives when Faylinn turned on her heels and flew into my arms with such force she nearly knocked me over." Bridget stopped her story and glanced back at Will uncertainly. "Will," she began hesitantly, "before I go on, I need to make certain that you understand—"

"That Faylinn loves you? And you her?" he answered casually.

Bridget blinked. Was it that obvious? Neither he nor Katie, who talked incessantly, had ever said a word!

His dark eyes twinkled. "I knew that the first day when Faylinn came pounding on my door and begged us to help you. That girl’s emotions are written all over her face. If you had died I feel certain we would have ended up burying you both. I wasn’t sure you felt the same way until the day I saw you together in the yard and she had her hands on her hips in that scolding way I’ve seen Katie use a million times, insisting it was time for your bandages to be changed and a bath. I heard you mumbling and cursing. But when she held out her hand you stepped forward and grasped it instantly." He winked. "A lamb led to the slaughter, you were."

Bridget felt her cheeks grow hot, chasing away the chill of the wind.

"I suppose that’s about as good a showing of true love as I’ve ever seen." Will leaned against a tree with one hand. "But we can never speak of it, Bridget." He slipped off his hat and ran his hands through his sweaty hair before replacing it firmly. "My Katie is a devout woman and, as much as she cares for you and Faylinn, this is something her faith would never allow her to accept. If it comes down to it, though it would sadden me greatly, I would not ask her to compromise that. I cannot."

Though it wasn’t what Bridget wanted to hear about Katie, she couldn’t help but respect Will’s decision. "You have my word, Will Beynon. The tender feelings Faylinn and I share will never be made clear to your wife."

Will grinned wryly. "I don’t think you’ll have too many problems. She has come to accept even the most… er… ‘intense’ displays of affection between you as the new standard for sisterhood everywhere. I only thank God that Katie has no such sisters or I would be as useful as tits on a boar."

Bridget couldn’t help but chuckle. She slapped Will on the shoulder and grinned broadly, relieved that at least he was willing to take her love for Faylinn in his stride. It was more than she had any right to expect. She made a mental note to explain the situation to Faylinn that evening when she returned.

Their climb grew steeper and she could hear Will’s breathing pick up. "I’ll continue then."

The younger woman crushed her lips against Bridget’s in unrestrained passion, pressing a small, hidden dagger in her love’s hands. "I love you," she whispered fiercely against Bridget’s mouth as she kissed her thoroughly, smiling through the kisses when she heard her words echoed. "Please live," she whispered again as Cyril tore her away from Bridget, and the tall woman tucked the dagger underneath her cloak, out of view.

"Then Cyril began babbling about me enchanting his wife, and the soldiers began to circle me, intent on carrying out the execution even if it meant simply running me through with their blades."

Will shivered, more from the coldness in Bridget’s voice than the chill in the air.

"I fixed my eyes on the first man I would kill, determined not to meet my Maker alone, when I saw…" Her jaw worked for a moment and she swallowed a few times before she could continue. "I saw my pig-assed brother with his sword at Faylinn’s throat, ready to murder her before my eyes." She heard Will’s angry growl behind her and grinned savagely in concert.

"Bastard!" Will spat.

"I’ve always suspected."

Tiny snowflakes began to fall.

"Cyril’s eyes locked with mine and I knew he would kill her if I continued to struggle. I had no choice." Bridget couldn’t tell Will about the look in Faylinn’s eyes when her decision became clear, or the young woman’s desperate cries. They still tore at her soul and haunted her nightmares. Discussing them, even with Will, was out of the question. "So then I did it," she said simply.

Did it?
"Did what?"

The smell of the sea was getting stronger now and Bridget could hear the waves beating against the rocks. Tiny snowflakes landed on her hair and on her face, disappearing as quickly as they touched warm skin. "I jumped."

"Jumped?"

"You’ll see." Her words were prophetic because at that very moment they stepped onto a small, barren plateau. At its edge was a 40-foot high jagged cliff that led to nothing but the sea. Near the edge a wooden post still stood, marking the spot where Bridget was to be burned at the stake.

Will eyes went round as he recognized the post for what it was and took in its location. "You jumped off that?" He edged his way over to the post and beyond, but refused to get too close to the edge. "That… that’s impossible!" he murmured, shocked. He turned disbelieving eyes on Bridget. "You would have hit the rocks below; the water isn’t deep enough to save you. You should be dead!"

"I should," Bridget agreed. "But Faylinn saved my life. The long ropes for my execution were still tied around my neck when I leapt." She pointed to the wooden post. "The other ends were tied to that." Bridget tried to block out the sound of Faylinn’s screams as she recalled the feeling of weightlessness as she plunged through the air. "I grabbed the ropes with one hand as I fell and with a quick turn looped them around my wrist and forearm." She held up her good arm and imitated the motion.

Will nodded quickly.

"I had only one chance and I knew it. If I failed I would either crash to my death on the rocks below. Or my neck would be snapped like a chicken being readied for Sunday dinner.

Will gulped.

She joined Will near but not too close to the edge. "I pulled the knife Faylinn had pressed into my hands from my cloak, and the very second the ropes were taut I slashed them with all my might, and to my amazement they fell away." Bridget unconsciously cradled her disfigured arm. "My timing was far from perfect and while I managed not get my neck broken, for a split second my arm bore the full burden of my fall." Bridget licked her lips. "It snapped in two places so quickly that I didn’t really know what happened. I thought I’d simply torn it from my body." She walked closer to the ledge and gestured Will over.

His pride was the only thing that kept him from outright refusing.

"My angle of descent changed and I slammed into the side of the cliff. I continued to fall until, tearing through those branches," she pointed, "and those rocks," her finger shifted, "I came to rest in a crevice near the bottom."

"By God, you fell almost the entire way?"

Bridget nodded and moved away from the edge. It was making her sick to her stomach.

Will gratefully followed her.

"I woke up the next day, cut, bloodied, broken, the knife still gripped in my useless hand, and freezing, but quite alive."