Farid slumped down onto the bare ground, unable to tear his gaze from the flames. His mind strangely empty. His sister had been part of his world since before he’d been born. Even when she wasn’t near him, he’d always held a loose connection to her. Just so he knew she was safe and well.
Not yet 15 she’d barely lived at all. Looking up he saw his father standing beside him staring into the fire. Most of the Villagers had left now, the spectacle having been far more horrible than any of them had imagined.
“Pa we need to go!” Farid suggested. Falcon didn’t reply he just stood motionless, till the young boy stood up beside him “Pa come on we need to go!” he urged again.
Falcon shook his head “Im not leaving her” he replied “She needs a proper burial”
Farid went silent, this was not the time to point out that no church in Grimstead would give an accused witch a burial than involved anything more than a crossroads and a lump of iron. “Ok Pa i’ll stay with you” he whispered softly resting his head on his father’s shoulder, though he could not have told you for whom the comfort was for.
They must have stood there for quite some time; the flames had begun to die when a rider entered the square. Looking up they recognised Tarik as he leapt from his horse “Where is she?” Tarik asked panic evident in his voice.
Falcon couldn’t answer tears rolling down his face he simply motioned to the bonfire.
“They accused her of witchcraft” Farid explained his voice barely audible over the crackling flames.
Tarik stared trying to take in the scene; his eye’s flicking from the rig that had once held her to the fire that still burned brightly. “Who did this?” he demanded.
“The priest” Farid replied motioning to the church.
“Get your father home” Tarik ordered.
“No…. “ Falcon protest “I can’t leave her”
“Take him home, I’ll bring your sister I promise” Tarik replied solemnly, stalking towards the church.
The door’s of the church burst open “Priest!!!!” Tarik roared wandering though the foyer and into the nave of the church looking towards the alter he saw the priest before it.
“Priest it is not your god you need to kneel before” Tarik growled “Your God can no-longer save you!”
“King Tarik is that you” the priest mumbled straining in the darkness “what is the matter?” he asked not understanding.
“You killed the wrong girl this night priest!”
“What.. i don’t understand.. She was a witch. It was god’s work” he replied nervously.
Tarik didn’t say a word, but picked up his speed, thundering down the centre of the church towards the priest grabbing him roughly by the tunic he threw him up onto the alter his head bouncing off it with a crack.
“It was God’s will” the Priest muttered his eye’s wide, blood trickling out of the wound dripping down the pure white marble of the alter “Gods Will”
Standing over him Tarik looked down “she was my daughter!!!” he growled.
“I didn’t know!” the priest mumbled “I didn’t know.. i thought.. she was the tavern keepers girl”
Tarik cut him off “Enough!” he roared. “Is this what your god deems? Is this what he asks of you priest killing innocent girls!!!”
“She was a witch” Father Mathew replied, with panic but truly believing his own words “She was Evil”
“EVIL!” Tarik thundered “If you thought that innocent girl evil, then you really aren’t going to know what to make of me!” Father Mathew’s eye’s widened in horror as he watch Tarik’s eye’s turned black.