“Erick has her hidden. She will be safe with him.”
Stefan dragged the jailer into Mia’s cell. He deposited the man on the filthy floor. The jail was silent except for Stefan’s movements.
“He’ll wake within the hour, I think,” Stefan said, loud enough so all the jailed women could hear him. “It would be better if you were gone when he came to.”
Dame Alice stood, lifting Mia up, helping her to the door.
Stefan followed and locked it behind them. The women were in the corridor of the jail, all out of their cells, confused and anxious. Stefan counted eight women.
“My friends,” he said. He began to speak but broke off. There was no other sound. Mia looked at all their filthy faces streaked with blood and dirt. She could tell them apart more by the skirts they wore than their faces.
Stefan coughed to free the words. “The church. It’s your best hope. The law cannot touch you once you are inside. When I open the door to the jail, those of you who can run, do. If you can help one another, do that. But we must be fast. I cannot protect you if you are not in the church. Are you ready?”
“But where is Bastion?” Dame Alice asked. “He will stop us if he can.”
The women glanced at each other, nodding.
“He is asleep in the dormitory, and for a long time. Once you are inside the church, he can do nothing to you.”
Mia’s face looked pale and drawn; she would be too weak to get across to the church in her own power. Dame Alice did not appear much better. Stefan walked to Mia, his arms extended. Dame Alice began releasing her grip on Mia. Mia’s chin began trembling as Father Stefan wrapped one arm around her shoulders and one around the back of her knees, carrying her like a child.
Stefan nodded at Dame Alice and took a deep breath.
“Open the doors.”
The women and Stefan ran from the jail, startling people in the square. Shock froze their faces. Not one of them would move in time to stop them. His legs pounded the earth, making the world shake in his vision as he ran with Mia in his arms.
Stefan could see Erick move to the doors from the window where he had been standing as soon as he saw Stefan and the women running. He threw the doors open. They made it to the steps before the townspeople could get their bearings and attempt to detain the group. Stefan was last to enter the church. He stumbled across the threshold, collapsing onto the floor near Mia. Erick slammed the doors on the approaching crowd. Stefan had seen how the men were furious. They gnashed their teeth and called down curses.
Stefan scanned the women, counting quickly. They had all made it, every last one. He looked up at Erick and began laughing as tears welled up in his eyes. Mia reached up for Stefan’s face, turning him to look at her.
“Why are you so happy?”
Stefan smiled, peace flooding through his soul faster than the adrenaline could drown it. He exhaled and softened his grip on her.
“This is a sanctuary, Mia. Once inside the church, the law has no more power over you. You are safe from condemnation. You will not die.”
The women looked at each other, reaching for each other’s hands, embracing, weeping. Erick bowed his head in prayer, and Stefan gave thanks as he sighed, trying to catch his breath.
Stefan waited for Erick to lift his head before speaking.
“There is a story. I found it in a book.” Stefan smirked, catching himself still afraid to admit that one secret. “I have a Bible. One of the forbidden ones. A Tyndale.”
“You never told me,” Erick said.
“A man left it here, long ago. I never found out his name.”
Stefan saw Mia trying to sit up and listen.
“There is a story about a grain of wheat, a seed of what could become a harvest, food for many hungry people. But it was only a seed when our story opens. The seed must choose between life and death. Is it better to remain whole and avoid death? Or is it better to allow the farmer to cast it to the ground, to force it under the earth, where it will be subject to heat, and flood, and the pain of its hard outer shell splitting?”
Erick frowned. “The answer depends on who is listening to the story. If someone is hungry, they want a harvest.”
Stefan nodded and wiped his brow. Although the room was cold, heat was creeping up from his chest, making his cheeks burn. “And the seed has no reason to desire its own death. Unless it desires a harvest that others will eat more than its own life.”
Erick shook his head. “I do not understand.”
“Neither did I. You will, in time. But run now, and bring Alma to Mia. We still have work to do.”