They finally allowed the bewildered Portuguese to get off their knees and stretch. But when the traders headed for the gate to return to their warm beds, Kit called them back. “My sons, think you that you return to bed now? Lauds must now be read before you may sleep safely in the knowledge that you are saving your souls.”
When the military governor complained bitterly that his men needed to sleep, Kit held up a hand. “Until the matter of these witches is settled and I know that the souls of my new flock are safe from harm, I must ask that you abide by my decree. Kneel, then.”
In the flickering lamplight, dismay showed plainly in swarthy faces. “My sons,” Kit said gently, “too long have you been living ungodly lives. Have you considered that your own wickedness has brought the witches and the devil himself among you?”
Several of the men crossed themselves fearfully. No one else complained as they knelt to hear Lauds. By the time this second service had ended, dawn had begun to creep across the sky. Kit let them go, enjoining them to sleep with prayers upon their lips, then stumbled back to his own wretched bed. Malcolm glanced once at Margo’s prison, then followed. They slept for exactly three hours, then roused the traders at six o’clock and conducted the Prime service. Only then did they allow the traders to eat breakfast. Kit ordered that the poor girl be fed, as well, then faced his uneasy new “flock.”
”I would know what manner of devilish things these witches brought among you. Father Xabat and I will examine the evidence for what we may find of the Evil One’s presence.”