Echoes From The Past – Episode 55

While Petrus took on the task of checking Thomas’s injuries, there was time for Mirin to talk in subdued tones to both of them. There was little she needed to say to Thomas – it was as though their mutual understanding was enough. He gripped her hand and looked into her bright blue eyes, and everything between them was understood.

Petrus was harder to read.

“Thank you, Friar Petrus,” she said. “I don’t know what to say to you. I feel I have misjudged you.”

The dark eyes flashed momentarily before he returned to his patient.

“I have been told I’m not an easy man. It’s not given to everyone to have a pleasing manner all the time.”

“But I thought –” Mirin stopped, and blushed.

Again the friar looked up.

“You thought I had accused you of witchcraft?”

She nodded humbly.

“It did cross my mind. I’m sorry, Petrus. The thing is, it was a truly terrifying experience, and I still don’t know who did it. They could do it again.”

“She won’t. Be assured of that.”

Mirin and Thomas both stared. Petrus thought, and made a decision.

“You were betrayed by your kitchen maid.”

Mirin was stunned.


“She confessed to me because she couldn’t find the priest. She heard you reciting your Latin verbs, and thought they were spells, so she told the Provost’s man.” His dark gaze was surprisingly kind. “She’s a simple girl, permanently terrified. Thoughts of Purgatory have unhinged her. She was truly repentant and, from now on, if you can find it in your heart to forgive her, you will have a slave for life.”

Relief washed over Mirin, and she was ready to forgive everyone. It seemed that Fortune was once again smiling on her.

“Of course I forgive her. I have all I need, and Etta has so little.” She turned to Thomas. “So long as –”

He tightened his grip on her hand.

“So long as we’re together.” He refused to dwell on battles ahead, on being English among Scots.

It was Petrus who noticed that the brooch was missing.

“It must have fallen off when we brought you over, but none of us noticed,” Petrus said.

Thomas and Mirin were both aghast, and a search party was instituted to find it. The ground between the hut and the castle door was raked and scoured. But the brooch was never found.

While Petrus was outside, continuing the hunt, they were able to talk freely.

“Perhaps the brooch went down a rabbit hole,” Thomas said. “I’m so sorry.”

“It has fulfilled its promise to us,” Mirin said. “Let’s just be grateful.”

Thomas nodded.

“I am grateful. For everything.” He was sitting up on the makeshift bed, his broken leg straight out in front of him. Mirin had barely left his side since they arrived at the castle, and now held his hand as if scared he would somehow be spirited away.

Thomas looked at her gravely.

“The future is very uncertain, Mirin, and I have little to offer you. But my heart is yours, and always will be. Tell me I have some hope.”

Mirin gave him her radiant smile, tears sparkling in the blue eyes.

“Oh, Thomas. Of course you have hope. I couldn’t bear to leave you now. Whatever happens, I’ll always love you.”

Thomas smiled in reply.

“That’s all I need,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss her.


Lucy Crichton

Fiction Editor Lucy is always on the look-out for the very best short stories, poems and pocket novels. As well as sourcing enjoyable content, she enjoys working with our established contributors, encouraging new talent, and celebrating 155 years of 'Friend' fiction!