Alterith washed his face, then dressed. Both his shirts were now blood-stained, and his threadbare coat would not keep out the cold. With a heavy heart he threw the satchel over his shoulder and walked downstairs.
Just after mid-morning Galliott the Borderer was summoned to the offices of the Moidart. As he climbed the stairs he saw Huntsekker coming down. The big man nodded to him as they passed, but did not speak. Galliott tapped on the Moidart’s door, heard the command to enter, and walked inside.
The Moidart, dressed all in grey, was sitting at his desk. ‘I see the hills are emptying,’ he said. ‘Clansmen are everywhere.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘I want no riot, Galliott. Our forces are stretched thin.’
‘I have doubled the guard at the execution, lord. One hundred to control the crowd, and twenty musketeers.’
The Moidart rose from his chair, and winced as the unhealed burns upon his body drew tight. ‘There was a despatch last night from Baracum,’ he said, pointing to an opened letter on the desk. ‘Read it.’
Galliott leaned over the table and lifted the document. The writing was small, but beautifully crafted. Holding it at arm’s length Galliott squinted to read it. When he had finished he carefully laid it on the desk. ‘It cannot be,’ he said. ‘It is madness.’
‘Madness or not it is true,’ said the Moidart. ‘The king has fled the capital and is raising an army against Luden Macks and the Covenanters. It is civil war, Galliott. Heaven knows where it will end.’
‘Surely the king will crush them, my lord?’
‘Perhaps – though I doubt it. However, that is not our concern now. Insurrection in the highlands will not – for the foreseeable future – allow us to summon reinforcements from the king. All we have are our own troops. I have sent a rider to order the King’s Regiment to return south. These are dangerous days, Galliott.’
‘Yes, my lord. Might it not be best if the bishop could be prevailed upon to pardon Maev Ring?’
The Moidart’s face darkened. That is a course I urged upon him last night. He is worse than an idiot. He lectured me about the majesty of the Church. Fresh from the bed of his strumpet, and with Jorain Feld’s bribe jangling in his purse, he talks to me of Holy Law. But enough of that. Tell me of your plans for the execution.’
An hour before the execution the crowds were already gathering in force. Galliott stood just in front of the scaffold surrounding the twelve foot high pyre. Maev Ring would be brought out through the cathedral doors and walked to the steps of the scaffold, then up to the narrow platform and tied to the stake. The walk from the cathedral would take less than a minute. Galliott placed twenty-five men to the right of the cathedral doors, some fifty paces from the entrance. ‘Hold the line there,’ he told them.
The stone-flagged cathedral ‘square’ was in fact rectangular, three hundred feet long, two hundred and ten feet wide. There were four entrance points, three from the town of Eldacre itself, and one across a bridge leading out to the Five Fields. Already there were some six hundred people congregating close to the bridge. Forty of Galliott’s men, their six-foot quarterstaffs held across their bodies, were maintaining a line some eighty feet from the scaffold. Twenty-five more beetlebacks were struggling to control the highland crowds emerging from the entrance on the left. More and more were arriving, creating pressure on those in front, inexorably moving them forward against the officers. There was no ill intent, as far as Galliott could see, but the press of the crowd was so great that the beetlebacks were forced back, a step at a time. Galliott issued orders to pull back the line, allowing more room for the newcomers. This eased the pressure for a while.
Sergeant Packard approached him. ‘They just keep coming, sir,’ he said. ‘Reckon there’ll be a damn sight more than two thousand.’
Hundreds more people began to arrive from the Varlish areas. Originally Galliott had planned to keep the crowd at least one hundred feet from the pyre. He had revised it to sixty, and now revised again. Once the fire was lit the heat would drive people back, but until then Galliott was forced to allow the crowd to move closer. Even then his men were struggling to hold the lines. And there was no sign yet of the twenty musketeers. Their presence would certainly help maintain order.