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'Nay, me lord,' replied Richard. 'Did me accuser say who it is that I robbed?'
'It does nay matter, a thief is a thief,' said the alderman loudly. Then turning to the guards, he said, 'Away with this man. The rack will get the truth.'
'Nay, me lord. I beg you to summon Lord Darby. 'e will put all straight.'
'Lord Darby? Why wuld I summon Lord Darby?'
''e knows of me innocence, me lord and 'e will nay approve of the rack.'
The alderman looked down at the papers before him and hesitated. 'Very well. 'arm can nay comb of waiting for Lord Darby. Take this man back to 'is cell.'
With that, Richard was led back down the dark, stone staircase and into his cell. When the door was shut, he was surprised at his relief to be in the cell. The rack was far worse than the cell, he would not likely have survived the rack.
It was after dark when John Darby's coach rolled into Stamford and he went straight to the almshouse. He gently lifted the old woman from the coach and carried her up the stairs.  He was surprised at how light she was and how frail. He left her with the caregivers who had been hired with the generous endowment that John had made to the house.
'Lord Darby, it is gud that you are arrived safely,' said the caregiver. 'much 'as 'appened in Stamford since you took your leave.'
'Aye, and whot 'as 'appened?' queried John.
The caregiver told him about the incident with James.
'The Bishop of Lincoln was 'ere in Stamford?' asked John.
'Aye and 'e may yet be in Stamford. Per'aps at the priory where they took James.'
'I go at once,' replied John and left the almshouse. The sheriff recognized John's coach and greeted him at the bottom of the stairs.
'Lord Darby,' said the sheriff, 'I beg you comb to the dungeon, we have a thief there.'
'You 'ave an accused thief there,' retorted John.
'Aye, an accused thief,' the sheriff corrected himself. 'The other aldermen will nay 'ear 'is case. It is waiting for you.'
'I will see 'im tomorrow,' replied John. 'I go now to Saint Leonard's.'
'They may use the rack on 'im before tomorrow,' said the sheriff.
'You tell the guards that they will answer to me if the rack is used.'
Aye, me Lord,' responded the sheriff.
John ordered the coach to the priory. At the priory, he inquired as to James' condition.
'The 'eretic is well,' replied the prior. 'We have nay laid 'ands on 'im,' asserted the prior.
'I shuld like to see 'im.'
'Lord Darby, do nay get involved in this thing,' warned the prior. 'It can only turn oot poorly for you.'
'I shuld like to see the prisoner,' insisted John.
'Very well then,' replied the prior and he summoned a monk to escort John.
The monk led John down a series of dark, narrow hallways to the light of a single candle. At the cell, the monk lit another candle and handed it to John and opened the door. After opening the door, John looked at the monk as though to encourage him to leave and the monk backed away several paces.
John stepped into the cell and the candlelight illuminated James laying on the mattress without any bedding.
'Lord Darby!' exclaimed James and he leapt to his feet. 'I am so grateful that you 'ave comb.'
'Aye, I comb as quickly as I 'eard. 'ave they mistreated you?'
'Nay, I am well.'
'I do nay know whot I can do to 'elp you James,' replied John.
'There is no need, Lord Darby,' said James. 'I am prepared to meet the fate of the Maiden.'
'Do nay give yourself up as a martyr just yet,' urged John. 'I will speak with the prior.'
'Do nay implicate yourself in this, me Lord.'
The monk returned and asked John to leave the cell. 'I will do whot I can,' promised John.
John returned and spoke with the prior.
'There is nuthing that you can do, Lord Darby,' said the prior.
'When will you move 'im to the Stamford dungeon?'
'At the first light of dee,' replied the prior. And then sensing that John may try something to free James, he added, 'Do nay attempt to free 'im. It wuld turn oot badly for you. We 'ave guards enuf and we will also post our guards at the dungeon. '
'I am nay going free 'im by force, boot per'aps we can speak of other arrangements.'
'Other arrangements?' asked the prior.
'Aye, I know that this priory is far in debt and 'as been for years. Wuld you nay like to be free of those debts?' asked John.
'Aye. Comb back tomorrow and we will discuss it.'
John turned to leave and the prior stood to show him out. 'Do nay bother, I will show meself oot,' said John.
John went straight home to Agnes where she was very excited to greet him.

'John, me luv. I am so 'appy. I 'ave missed you so,' she said as she ran into his arms.

'It is gud to be 'ome and told 'old you again, me luv,' said John as he held her tightly and kissed her lips.

After the kiss, Agnes said, 'John, I 'ave sent a man to Lambley to fetch James' mother.'
'Lambley, by Not'ing'am?'
'Aye, that is the same.'
'A gud long way, that,' replied John as he reached down to remove his boots.
'Aye, boot 'is mum shuld be 'ere, do you agree?'
'Aye, you did well.'

'There is sumething else also,' Agnes said. Her tone and expression concerned John and he looked up into her eyes again.

'Whot is it then, me luv?' asked John and he took her in his arms.

'It is Richard. 'e 'as nay been seen for several dees.'

'Whot? 'e 'as nay been 'ere to see 'is lad?'

'Nay, and I am worried. Whot culd 'ave becomb of 'im?'

'I do nay know. I will luk for 'im tomorrow. Per'aps 'e is at Easton-on-the-'ill.'

'Nay, I 'ave sent a man there to check and 'e is nay there.'

'I will find 'im tomorrow, me luv,' promised John.

The priory did not wait for first light to transfer James to the dungeon in Stamford, but they transferred him in the middle of the night, fearing an attempt to free him.

Chapter Twenty-six

February 1459

Stamford

 

A heavy cloak of dampness filled the air inside the cold, dark room where Richard was confined. The musky smell of moist stone made each breath seem heavy. He was beginning to wonder whether John Darby would ever come to his aid. The guards had grown increasingly restless about the prisoner and anxious to strap him to the rack.
Midway through the night, Richard heard the heavy door creak open and there was a faint light coming down the stairway. After being alone for the last few days, Richard was happy to have someone to talk to. He wondered though why this person was being brought to the dungeon in the middle of the night.
The guards were at the door of the cell now and Richard backed away into the corner. The guards shoved the person inside and closed the door. It was so dark that Richard could not make out any details of the stranger, so his fear of the unknown returned and he stayed quiet in the corner.
It had been a long night for James already and sleep had escaped him. His mind had been racing, recalculating the injustice that had been dealt him. Thoughts of revenge began to boil over and over in his mind. Such thoughts were completely contrary to his nature and he fought to replace them.
He felt around and found a bed of stone and a small woolen blanket. The blanket would provide little relief from the chill coming from the slit of a window above him. He felt something bite on his boot and he jerked with a start. Then he realized that it must be a rat. He hated rats and imagined the rat crawling up his leg, on the flesh beneath his trousers. A shiver ran up his spine and he drew the blanket more tightly around himself.
The rat scampered now across the room looking for a morsel that couldn’t be found. Suddenly there was a swift movement in the darkness and the rat hit the wall near His head. The force of the impact killed the rat and it fell onto his chest. He quickly flung his arms and the blanket sent the lifeless rat into the air and away from himself. With that, there was a chuckle from the corner of the cell.
James asked, 'Who are you, sir?'
Richard recognized James' voice and excitedly stated, 'It is I, Richard Easton.'
'Richard? Whot are you doing 'ere?' asked James.
'I shuld ask you the same,' replied Richard. 'I am accused unjustly of thievery.'
'And I of 'eresy,' replied James.
''eresy!' Richard repeated with a gasp. 'Whot will becomb of you?'
'Aye, you know whot they do with 'eretics.'
'Tell me whot 'appened, I 'ave been 'ere since Sat'urdee last,' urged Richard.
James repeated to him the story of his trial and sentencing and when he finished, Richard didn't say a word for a time, then all he said was 'I am soory.'
Outside a light snow had been falling most of the night. The thin blanket of snow muted most sounds that would normally be familiar to the night. The prisoners could still hear the sound of dogs in the distance and an occasional disturbance from the public house across the narrow roadway.
James was nervous and he started humming a tune to relax. When Richard heard the tune, he asked, 'Whot is that tune you hum? It sounds faintly familiar.'
James stopped humming and said, 'It is a song that me mum wuld sing for me as a lit'le lad.' And then he continued the song, but with the words,
"Faire Maiden, "Flower of Youth", From whence forth springth thy charm?
Commanding attention. Over none thou doth loom, But, mighty ones are disarmed.
Thy voice, as sweet as all arias sung, Calms the most covetous clamor."
Richard had been listening intently and then, of a sudden, he remembered the song and joined.
"A pavilion of grace to which all may come, Thy presence a delicious nectar.
How canst thou forgive this gargoyle face? Loveliness escaped me at birth.
But, I can offer thee in its place A loyalty that is beyond worth."
Richard stood excitedly and asked, 'Your mum sang that song to you as a wee lad?'
James was surprised that a song could elicit such excitement. 'Aye,' James said. 'It is the only song I remember from me youth.'
Richard reached out to James in the darkness. With great emotion in his voice, he exclaimed, 'I am the one who penned that song. Who was your mum?'
James was bewildered, but replied, ''er name is Elizabeth.'
Richard was overcome with joy and fell to the ground on his knees. 'Praise be to God!' he cried.
'I do nay understand,' said James.
'Who was your father, James?' asked Richard.
'Me father was Thomas, the baker.'
'Do you resemble 'im?' asked Richard.
James thought for a moment and said, 'Nay, 'e was much shorter and portly.'
Richard tried to contain his excitement, knowing that this was difficult for James to understand in an instance. 'James,' said Richard in a serious tone that belied his excitement, 'I penned that song for your mum.'
''ow culd you 'ave penned this song for me mum?' asked James.
'James, whot I am aboot to share with you is absolutely true. I 'ave waited so long.' Richard then told James about his marriage to Elizabeth and about their accidental separation. He told him of his travels in search of her. 'James, I searched for your mum for many munths and she culd nay be found. She thought me deed.'
James didn't know what to think and he sat in silence. Richard broke the silence with a question. 'James, do you luk more like Thomas, or meself?'
Even in the darkness, James knew the answer to that question. 'I luk most like you,' replied James. It took James a few more moments to comprehend all that he had been told, when he did, he reached out into the darkness and embraced Richard and said, 'Father.'

'That sounds so gud, me sone,' replied Richard. 'I wuld 'ave liked to 'ave known you as a lad.'

'Thomas was a gud man, Richard' said James. 'I 'ave two gud fathers.'

'I am glad that you were raised by a gud man,' replied Richard. 'Was 'e gud to your mum?'

'Aye, 'e was a gud 'usband as well. She luved 'im very much. It was a sad dee when he deed.' Then a thought suddenly settled on James. 'They 'ave gone to fetch me mum, Richard.'
'Elizabeth will be 'ere in Stamford again?' exclaimed Richard.
'Aye, praise God for 'is gudness,' said James.

'Aye, boot she is combing because you 'ave been arrested. It may nay be gud for 'er to be 'ere.'

With the seriousness of their situation again pressed upon their minds, the men sat in silence, neither desiring to acknowledge further the prospects that the dawning day would bring.
At the first light of day, John Darby went to the court house as promised to hear the case of the accused thief. He reasoned that it wouldn't take long and that he could then see the prior again about James. When he arrived at the court house, it was obvious to him that James must be in the dungeon because of the extra guards that had been posted. John ordered that the accused thief be brought out of the cell and was struck with surprise when Richard entered the room.
'Richard?' he said with surprise, 'are you the accused thief?'
'Aye, me Lord, and I am so pleased to see you.'
'Is it true then?' John asked, but knew that it couldn't be.
'Nay, me Lord. I am accused by the person who tried to rob you on the ship.'
''ow long 'ave you been in the dungeon?'
'sevrule dees, me Lord.'
'Were you mistreated?'
'Nay.'
'Wuld you recognize your accuser if 'e were still in Stamford?'
'Aye, me Lord, as will the sheriff. The thief is intent on a reward.'
'Is James also in the dungeon,' asked John.
'Aye, and I am greatly concerned' replied Richard.
'Aye, there is cause for concern. The man is accused as an 'eretic and 'eretics most often will burn.'
'Lord Darby, the bleakness of 'is situation is compounded as I 'ave learned that 'e is me sone.'
'Your sone? 'ow can this be?' asked John.
To John's amazement, Richard related to him the story of his marriage to Elizabeth and his subsequent searches for her and of the song that James had been singing. When he finished, John said, 'Indeed, 'e must be your sone.'
'Aye, and I may yet find me Elizabeth,' replied Richard with some excitement.
'Boot, the circumstances may be unpleasant,' observed John.
Richard's excitement was dampened at the prospect that faced James. 'Aye, can anything be dune?' asked Richard.
'When I take me leave from 'ere, I will speak with the prior. Per'aps arrangements can be made that are favorable to James,' replied John. 'Boot, you are free to go.'
'I am grateful, me Lord,' said Richard.
When he left the court house, Richard walked around the corner to the small window opening and called quietly, 'James, James.'
James stood on the stone bed and approached the window. 'Aye?'
'Lord Darby is going to speak with the prior todee on your behalf. Per'aps there is sumething that can yet be dune.'
'I wish 'im God's speed, boot I am ready to face me fate as the Maiden did.'
'Do nay give up 'ope. God may yet deliver you,' replied Richard.
'I pray that it will be so,' said James.
Richard stayed at the window for a couple of hours to keep James' spirits up. Eventually, he left to see his wee lad at the Darby estate.
The hours dragged on for James with no word. He watched as the sliver of sunlight from the window crossed the entire cell until it too disappeared and the cell was again dark. He tried to sleep, but sleep escaped him, he was too restless with concern for what the next day might bring.
In the very early hours of the morning he could hear the sound of hooves on the roadway and he peered out the window. Someone out so early must be on an important errand. As the sound drew closer he realized that there was more to the sound than just the hooves. There was also the unmistakable sound of wheels, not even the thin layer of snow that had fallen during the night could muffle the sound. Almost as soon as he realized the nature of the sound, the wagon passed by and as though in recognition of who they were passing, the wheels on the right of the wagon hit a small puddle, spraying freezing water on his face. He pulled back in mixed feelings of shock, surprise and anger. Losing his footing in the process he fell from the stone bed and onto the dirty floor of the room.
He picked himself up from the floor and wiped his face on the thin blanket. Soon, he heard another wagon coming. Exercising greater caution this time, he looked out the slit of a window. The sun had just begun to glow in the eastern sky, but its radiance was muted behind a thick layer of clouds, still
he could make out a load of wood on the wagon and it disturbed him.
Shadowy figures were just beginning to be visible in the glow of the rising sun and it appeared to him that an occasional woman hurried to the village well for water and then returned bearing the heavy load.
James sat down on the bed and wondered whether John would have any success at all at the priory. He knew that time was not on his side.
Occasionally, he would stand and peer out the window as if doing so would help to gain him release. Just looking out of the window seemed to calm him. There were more people outside now. Some were already on their way to their daily labors. Most slowed or stopped when another wagon went by. They spoke quietly to each other, and motioned in the direction of the dungeon, then continued on their way.
'These are simple people,' he thought, 'ignorant to the ways of the world.' To them his fate was nothing more than a temporary diversion from the unremarkable drudgery of their lives. Most of them were teetering on the brink between survival and death themselves.
He sat back on the stone bed and waited. Soon, he felt a sharp pain in the middle of his back. As a rock fell to the floor he jumped with a start and whirled around to see two small boys through the slit above him. He wanted to lunge at the window to take hold of a leg if he could. But he was not fast enough. The boys ran away yelling taunts over their shoulders. He surely did not deserve such wretched treatment, but was in little position to restrain it. He decided to exercise more caution and not sit directly beneath the window.
As the boys ran off, James noticed that there was considerably more traffic on the narrow roadway now than he had expected. Some women, fortunate enough to have the means, darted in and out of shoppes buying provisions and bread for their families, but most people were making their way to the village square.
The square was to the right of the window. The most prominent feature of the stone-cobbled square was St. Mary's Church. James did not have a full view of the square nor the church, but he could see that at least one man was bent on the task of stacking wood in the square near the base of the church spire.
'So this is the reason for the wagons,' he exclaimed half to himself and half aloud. His heart began to pound within his breast. Of all the ways to die, he thought, this was surely the worst; excruciating in its pain, insulting in its spectacle. 'Am I ready to dee?' he asked out loud.
Just then he heard the door at the top of the stairs creak open on their massive hinges. He stood at the door of the cell and through its small window-like opening he could see the glow of candles as two men descended the steps from above. The men cast larger-than-life shadows on the walls as they came down the stairs. They walked briskly to his cell. Thoughts of fighting them off and escaping crossed his mind. He knew however that such thoughts were useless. Even if he were able to get out of the cell, how might he get past the guards beyond the top of the stairs?
Now the soldiers were at the door and it was thrown open and two guards stepped inside and grabbed James by the arms and dragged him from the cell. He gave a momentary struggle, but it was useless, the men had a firm grip. One of them withdrew a double-sided dagger and threatened to slit his throat right there if he made any further attempts to flee.
At the top of the stairs they bound his hands behind his back and led, or pushed, him out into the street. A light snow continued to fall and the gentle breeze was chilling, but he did not notice either. The crowds of faces seemed a blur as he was led past the throng. People filled the roadway from one side to the other and they almost stumbled over themselves to get out of the way of the soldiers.
On past the dungeon he was marched, toward St. Mary’s and the village square. Twice he stumbled on cobblestone and was jerked to his feet by the soldiers. He entered the village square to cries of, ‘Burn 'im! Burn the 'eretic!’
The pile of wood was in the middle of the square. Surrounding the square were houses of wealthy people. Most of them two and three stories with balconies. Each balcony was filled now. Some people were crying, others acted as though it were a day of celebration. Some mothers were busy rounding up their little ones and rushing them away from the scene.
The soldiers forced James to the top of the woodpile and he was tied to an upright beam that stood in the middle of the pile. He was then bound hand and foot. The bands were so tight that his extremities were already beginning to turn purple and they ached. His hands were tied above his head so that the ropes would not inadvertently burn and allow him to escape the flames.
A man came forward and placed a lighted torch to the bottom of the pile. The flames started small, but quickly spread along the bottom pieces of wood.
His mind was racing. How had his life come to this point? Who would care for his mother in her old age? What would his mother think to have a son who was branded a heretic?
With great effort, James looked among the crowd for his mother. Had word reached her? If she hadn't made it to Stamford prior to now, he hoped that she wasn't here to see his punishment. There were so many faces and the fire was gathering in intensity, that he shut his eyes for a moment and didn't notice Richard.
A tear ran down Richard's face and he lowered his head in shame of a towne that would punish someone in such an awful way. He could no longer bear the scene and turned away to leave. As he started through the crowd, he heard James yell out, 'Mother! Forgive me!'
Richard turned and for the first time in years laid eyes on Elizabeth. He had imagined what it would be like to see her again, but not under these horrible circumstances. 'She must nay see this!' he said to himself and he rushed through the crowd and grabbed her trembling body and turned her away and she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
The heat was now becoming unbearable on James' feet and he could think of nothing else. He tried to lift his feet from the flames, but they were tied to the pole, making his efforts useless. Mixed with the smell of smoke, he could smell an awful odor and realized that it was his shoes.
The smoke was becoming overpowering and he was no longer getting sufficient air. His heavy breaths did little more than fill his lungs with smoke.
He thought of the Maiden. She had died calling out praises to God, could he do the same? He shut his eyes again and tried not to yell out in pain.
Suddenly, a coach drawn by two horses was heard crossing the towne bridge at great speed. The crowd moved out of its path as quickly as possible and the coach stopped just short of the woodpile. Before the coach was stopped, John Darby jumped out yelling, 'Stop! Get the wat'er!' Next, the prior climbed out of the coach and waved his approval to throw water on the flames. With that command, several men who had been standing by with buckets, tossed water on the flames.
'Elizabeth, it is over!' said Richard excitedly. 'John 'as saved 'im!'
Elizabeth looked up and saw steam rising above the woodpile instead of smoke and began to cry with joy. With Richard close behind, she rushed to the woodpile and caught hold of James after he had been cut free.
As she held him tightly and buried her face in his chest, all she could utter was 'James, James.'
Richard stood back and watched the tender scene before him and thought what a difference it was from moments earlier.
John could see that James could no longer stand and lifted him into the coach and covered him with his own cloak.
James expressed gratitude to John and to God for his deliverance. Then, looking just beyond John, he saw his mother and father standing next to each other. 'Mum,' he said, ''ere is me father.' Elizabeth looked for the first time at Richard. She studied his face carefully and then tears filled her eyes.
She reached up and put a hand on either side of his face and said, 'Richard? Richard! Is it really you?'
'Aye, Elizabeth, it is I,' replied Richard and he waited to see what her reaction would be. 'I searched much for you Elizabeth. I am soory that I did nay find you.'
Elizabeth put her arms around Richard and held him close and whispered, 'You 'ave found me now, me luv.'
'I will never leave you,' promised Richard.
John insisted that they all get into the coach and then he directed the coachman to take them to the Darby estate. Cheers went up from most in the crowd as the coach slowly passed through.
Agnes saw them approaching and ran outside with the lad in her arms. She had seen the smoke rising from the village square and had assumed the worst. She was filled with joy to see James safe inside the coach. As Richard stepped from the coach, he took the lad from her arms and handed him to Elizabeth and said, 'Elizabeth, meet John.' Little John hugged her around her neck and a tear flowed down her cheek.
Richard, Elizabeth and James stayed at the Darby estate for the next two days until James had recovered enough to stand.
Early on the third day, Richard approached John and said, 'You 'ave been so kind, Lord Darby. Withoot your 'elp, we wuld nay be a family.'
'It pleases me to see you reunited,' replied John.
'We will leave todee. Elizabeth needs to get back to the bakery.'
'And whot will you do now, Richard?' asked John.
'I am dune traveling. I am a baker now, John,' Richard said with a broad smile.
Elizabeth walked up at that time smiling. She put her arms around Richard and said, 'We will be married again and be bakers together.'

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