The Sorceror's Revenge by Linda Sole

might be able to forgive him though she did not think she could ever love him again.
    ‘I love you, Nicholas,’ she whispered.  ‘If you are living still, forgive me for doubting you.  Take care, my love.  I hope one day that we shall meet again, whether it be this side of the grave or the other.’  She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened.  ‘God give me strength to do what I must.  Let my poor child be found…let her not suffer wherever she is…’
    Melloria tried to imagine the woman who had taken her child.  Was the babe safe and loved or was she suffering at this very minute?
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
    9
     
    Will had been gone for hours.  Marta looked out at the sky, which was gathering with dark clouds.  It looked as if a storm was on its way.  Will had told her he would only be gone a short time.  He had left her with the intent of booking passage for them on a ship bound for France, but he had been away so long that she was beginning to wonder if he had deserted her.
                  ‘Marta…’ the child wailed.  Mary was tired from the incessant travelling, because Will had been frightened to stop anywhere for more than a day.  He was constantly glancing over his shoulder and every time a horse came up behind them he dragged Marta and the child from the road to hide.  ‘Mary want milk…Mary hungry…’
                  ‘Stop your whining, girl,’ Marta snapped, her tone sharper than she would normally use to the child.  ‘I have no milk and no bread neither.  I’m hungry same as you.  Will promised to bring food back for us.  He won’t be long now.’
                  Mary continued to grizzle and complain of being hungry.  In the end Marta reached into the food pouch and took out a piece of hard bacon that was turning rancid.
                  ‘If you are so hungry chew on this but don’t blame me if it makes you sick.’
                  Marta knew she was being harsh.  She would be sorry for it later, but Mary had hardly stopped crying and complaining since they left Winchester.  She demanded to be carried and asked for milk and bread, which were things Marta could not often provide.
                  Looking up at the sky again, she thought that it would soon be dark.  It was not cold but she had grown used to a bed and the thought of sleeping on hard ground was not pleasant, especially in a strange place.  She did not know where to go to find food and shelter, and was afraid to spend the money in her pouch because if Will deserted her she would not know what to do.  Travelling the roads was hard enough but she was too frightened to beg or ask for work, the shadow of murder hanging over her like a dark cloud.  Her guilt and remorse was so strong that she felt folk would see it just by looking at her.
                  Marta imagined the fires of Hell and souls tormented.  She heard the Devil laughing as they writhed in agony in the flames.  It was what the priest preached, and the religious pictures she had seen all portrayed such an end for those who had committed far less evil crimes than theirs.
                  Will said that it would be better when they left England.  No one would know about the murder in France.  There they could relax and be happy again.  If it was possible to relax and forget?  Marta was not certain she would ever put the sight of Todd’s poor head completely out of her mind.
                  She wondered if she should move on, start to look for a place to sleep, but Will had told her she must stay here by the side of the road and she was afraid to move in case he came looking for her.
     

 
     
     
     
    10
     
    Rhoda shivered as the air became cool after the heat of the day.  It had taken longer for her things to be packed than she had imagined and Jonathan had suggested they wait one more night, but