Bishop Julian pored over the documents handed to him by the guards; he rifled through them, the lackey assistant simply awaiting any further instructions from him.<br/><br/>“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be particular about this – but we burn people at stakes … because they use herbs to heal people? That’s it? That’s the crime?” The assistant looked back at him. “If they are using herbs, it must mean they have an apothecary with which to collect it in for possible future spells and bewitchments!” Julian continued.<br/><br/>“And you’ve seen Manuela cast these enchantments?”<br/><br/>“Well, no. But why else would she collect herbs?” The Bishop looked at the assistant in disbelief. “What, Rome can’t produce a few witnesses, even false ones? Never mind, I’ll take care of this.”<br/><br/>“Wait!” the assistant shouted. “You need to be introduced with trumpets and fan fair, your excellency. You can’t just walk out there.” Julian smiled. “Why not, it’s not morning Mass or Vespers. I’m just going out to visit one of the accused.” The lackey didn’t like it when the Bishop had his own mind to conduct business other than the protocol he had seen in other Dioceses. Quickly scrambling, the lackey went in another direction, trying to get royal trumpeters out to the courtyard before Julian could make it there.<br/><br/>Julian stopped and looked at his clothes; he realized he hadn’t changed  into the Bishop’s formal  cassock. He neared the courtyard to his castle when a small child, a beautiful child, pulled on his clerics. A guard noticed and seemed to want to approach him to take care of the situation, but he cued the guard to stop. “Suffer the little children to come unto me, right?” Julian softly whispered. He bent down. “How did you get in here?”<br/><br/>But the child, her pretty blue eyes and long brownish hair and sparkle in her countenance asked, “Don’t you want a friend?” She must have been confused; his eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you my friend, little one?” But the child didn’t look as if she was referring to herself. She pointed out into the crowded yard and said “her?” Julian looked in her direction and saw a woman on the stake; her hair seemed to be the same color, but she looked like she was struggling. She did not look like a witch; she did not look like a sorceress; she looked like a normal woman. Turning back to the child, Julian wanted to explain how difficult adult existence was and how he needed to really think about the matter. But he realized, there was no more child. He looked to the guard who said “Sir, I am sorry. She ran off.”<br/><br/>Julian simply responded, “No worries.” The Bishop walked out and sure enough, a trumpet blared. There was no announcement, so he supposed the lackey was able to get a musician. He approached the stakes where the supposed witches were. He gasped; these were not strange looking persons. He knew witches didn’t necessarily have broomsticks and crooked noses, but he at least expected them to look like an astrologer or perhaps gypsies. Though Julian couldn’t figure out what was wrong with gypsies either.<br/><br/>He walked around the perimeter of the few remaining witches he was supposed to burn; he was not sure which one was Manuela, but he pretty much guessed it was the woman the child pointed out.  Julian turned and called for the guards.<br/><br/>“There will be no burning today” Bishop Julian told them. While the guards would comply as they were told, the lackey assistant, who had caught up to Julian, said, “Oh, your holiness. We must execute them so we can give Rome a good report.”<br/><br/>Julian held his hand up to the roaring crowd; some of them enjoyed such mass executions, but most of them were horrified. “His Excellency, Bishop Julian of the Friar Monastery in the villages of Santa Maria, exclaims there will be no executions today. Everyone is to be returned to the prisons.” He turned his head and caught the eye of one of the witches. She struggled, just like the other; but he was intrigued. The assistant realized he was staring.<br/><br/>“Oh, your holiness. We could release her and she could be your concubine if you wish if you would just kill the others.” Julian turned and glared at him; he could not believe his ears. Even here in these small villages, corruption tried to come into the Bishop’s castle.<br/><br/>The Bishop shouted again. “To Ms. Manuela; if I let you go … what would you do with your freedom?” He expected the answer would help him decide what he should do next.<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="https://usercontent1.hubstatic.com/7112120_f260.jpg">[ img ]</a>