Chapter 393: Endure and You’re Innocent

Andreas was skeptical about the existence of witches. Accusations of witchcraft can be filed even without a victim, but aside from that period forty years ago, most special trials have ended in acquittal.

"Guilty verdicts come down when the accused is a heathen or when the evidence is solid. There have been almost no convictions resting on nothing but rumor, as in this case."

"Then how exactly does Father Nikolaus plan to prove it?"

"Outrageously, that priest, who isn’t even a trained torturer, was poring over texts on torture!"

"Don’t tell me he means to torture her in the middle of the trial..."

Torture was a common method of interrogation in the medieval era, but using it at a public trial like this was rare. Torturing someone to death at the execution grounds, maybe, but this?

When Andreas confronted him, demanding to know why they should be studying texts on torture, Father Nikolaus insisted that torture was an excellent means of quickly separating truth from lies.

What a piece of work.

The classic attitude of a fanatical inquisitor.

"I hear that discussions about witch hunts are actively underway at the College of Cardinals."

"Surely the papacy in Rome isn’t about to make witch hunting official?"

"It hasn’t reached that stage yet. But the problem is that their method of interrogating witches begins with torture! Endure the torture and you’re innocent; break under it and you’re guilty. Where is the sense in that! Oh, Lord!"

Andreas crossed himself, appalled by the whole approach.

It truly was an interrogation method that defied all common sense.

The problem was that at the height of the witch hunts, that method became the standard everywhere. Fortunately, the current pope’s passions lay in literature, art, and architecture, so he reportedly had little interest in witch hunts.

He was, however, extremely zealous about the Crusades. He apparently even planned a Crusade once, though it failed. But why would a priest from the Bishopric of Lanseh take such an interest in witch hunting?

"The College of Cardinals has been favorable toward witch hunts, so he must believe His Holiness will approve them someday. And with His Holiness’s relatives occupying the cardinals’ seats as they do..."

"The pope is quite a worldly man, isn’t he? Come to think of it, I’ve never heard a single good rumor about him."

"Regrettably, that’s true. Which is why the voices calling for reform have grown rather loud."

Andreas had merely expressed regret, but I already knew he leaned toward the reformist camp. His being pushed out to the Feuzen church after once serving under the Archbishop of Breisburg was probably no coincidence.

In the end, I told Andreas everything that had happened with Norman.

"So the witch accusation was a false charge after all. Those foolish wretches! How could they commit such an outrageous sin! Just as you say, my lord, I will do my part to ensure no poor soul is framed as a witch."

"Thank you, Father. Father Nikolaus plans to move on to Tyrol once this trial ends. He clearly sees it as nothing more than a credential for becoming an inquisitor."

"Oh, Lord! The Bishopric of Lanseh has clearly been stained by worldliness."

Since this was meant to be a proceeding to expose the people who slandered an innocent woman as a witch, Andreas and I found common ground and agreed to keep the trial from going the way Nikolaus wanted.

Things had gotten more tangled than I expected.

I’d intended to wrap this up as a special trial with nothing special about it. But of all people, the man the Lanseh inquisition sent turned out to be an aspiring inquisitor burning with witch-hunt fever. Is this going to be okay?

"First, let’s head to the jail."

"Pardon? You’re going to the jail?"

I figured I’d better explain the situation to the widowed seamstress locked up on witchcraft charges, so she wouldn’t faint at the sight of an acting judge who reaches straight for torture. At the very least, we needed to get our stories straight.

The jail beneath the manor is actually quite sanitary and comfortable. When I became lord of Feuzen, I was horrified by the filthy state of the jail and ordered a massive cleanup to clear out all the muck.

There’s a reason for the saying that a long stay in jail means dying of disease. In this era, the very concept of cleaning a jail simply didn’t exist. So the seamstress currently locked up was staying in relative comfort.

"Erich, my son is doing all right without his mother, isn’t he?"

"You don’t need to worry. The missus is taking good care of him."

"Thank you so much for looking after my son, Erich. Sob."

Someone was in the jail talking with the seamstress. The flustered jailer moved to stop him, but I held the jailer back and let the conversation go on. The man appeared to be Norman’s younger brother.

So I eavesdropped on the two of them.

"How am I supposed to live now? Once you’ve been branded a witch, there’s no going back to the way things were!"

"Don’t lose heart, Erika. My brother said it would be all right."

"...My beloved Erich, please look after my son."

"I can’t do that. If things truly go wrong, I’ll risk my life to take you out of this hell, even if I have to run. Let’s go somewhere far away with Oliver, somewhere no one knows us."

"Don’t risk your life for a woman like me, Erich!"

"I can’t even dream of a world without you. Even if a violent end awaits us, I will be with you. For all eternity."

Is this a comedy or a tragedy?

And why am I hiding here?

One thing I know for certain: their love runs deep.

My eyes met Ferke’s, then my men’s. Everyone turned their heads away in embarrassment. Ferke sighed and said that eavesdropping on a pair of lovers was a truly nasty hobby.

"Baron, just how long do you intend to keep spying on them?"

"Damn it, I think I missed my chance to step in."

"Your chance? What is that supposed to mean?"

We must have been too loud, because Erich and Erika noticed us. Startled, Erich the gunner drew his dagger. The jailer quickly stepped forward and calmed him down.

"Erich! You’re in the lord’s presence! Show some respect!"

"Huh? M-my lord? I’m so sorry!"

Sheathing his dagger, Erich snapped to attention, displaying the discipline of a well-trained gunner. With an awkward smile, I walked past the visibly flustered Erich and stood before the cell where Erika was being held.

"I understand your love for each other now. If a Boeven settler and a Feuzen villager are joined together, the distance between the two communities will shrink that much more, so if you two wish to marry, I will grant my permission."

"M-marriage? B-but I’m locked up here on witchcraft charges..."

"You needn’t worry about the trial. I can hardly let a precious villager who’ll be making our new-style military uniforms die over a witchcraft charge. The star of this special trial isn’t you. It’s Dressel."

"My lord! You mean to clear Erika of the witchcraft charges?"

Unlike the bewildered Erika, Erich seemed to have caught on. I gave a light pat on the shoulder to Erich, who had found his hope again. Consolation from a lord as lofty as the heavens would give him boundless courage.

"I’ve seen your courage, and your resolve to lay down your life for the woman you love. So trust me and wait. Father Andreas and I will help you, and the trial will end in an acquittal."

"Ahh, my lord! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

Leaving the two of them weeping and pouring out their gratitude, we left the jail. Hmm, lovers who cherish each other that much and have that kind of courage are a heartwarming sight all on their own.

What Norman wished for was the happiness of those two.

Which is why this special trial must not be twisted into a witch hunt.

"Sir Ferke. Love is a magnificent thing, is it not?"

"My apologies, but I was mortified. For a noble to go peeping like that..."

"Tsk, tsk. Spoken like a true German noble without an ounce of fun in him."

Ferke’s indignant eyes said it all.

Aren’t you a German noble too?