Joy in the Fire

To the Stake

Edward West sat in a cell, head hung dejectedly. They couldn't kill Elizabeth. He wouldn't let them. Pulling the muscles in his forehead together in the middle, he took a deep breath and exhaled. "Your will be done," he whispered. "Your will be done." He repeated the phrase quietly several times until he was interrupted by a palace guard. "You'll come with me," he ordered. Edward stood weakly, thinking over and over again: Your will be done, Your will be done. The guard unlocked the neighboring cell and it was with both delight and sorrow that Edward saw Elizabeth emerge. He smiled at her before his attention was averted by another girl, whom he surveyed in horror. Her small frame was weak with malnourishment and sickness. Her chin was tilted in stubborn determination and courage. When the guard jerked her elbow, she followed willingly but held her frame in pride. Edward marveled at her bravery and turned his attention to Elizabeth. She caught his glance and smiled weakly. He returned the smile with a strong brave one and inched forward so he walked by her side.

The guard led them down many corridors and up many stairs until they came out into the open air, above a large arena. Elizabeth looked out at the arena. Gallows, guillotine, a burning stake...Elizabeth felt her stomach somersault. They would ask her to recant the faith. If she did, she wouldn't be killed. They were just about to ask now. Life and guilt or death and honor?

"Do you deny that you have abided by the religion of Christianity?" The booming voice asked. Edward opened his mouth to speak, but Elsie stepped forward first and with a voice a thousand times larger and stronger than herself, declared, "I do not deny this."

Edward smiled and stepped forward, laying his bound hands on her thin shoulders. "Neither do I."

Elizabeth weakly joined them with a strong smile. "Nor I."

The man inhaled sternly. "Very well. Do you deny that you have done so since the law was passed forbidding thus?"

This time the voices responded in unison. "We do not."

"Very well. And finally, we shall give you a chance, if you so wish, to recant these beliefs."

This time there was a hesitance.

"What shall you do to us, sir," Elsie asked softly but firmly, "If we do not?"

The man smiled falsely. "We have chosen to burn you. But you will recant, won't you child? You needn't die, just say you're sorry."

Elsie tilted her chin in determination and smiled at the man. "No, sir, I will not recant. For to me to live is Christ and to die is gain." She cocked her head, still smiling. "I suppose you think I'm afraid of you. But In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can man do to me? Kill me? But I do not fear those who kill the body, and after that have nothing more that they can do. Rather I fear him who, after he has killed, has authority to cast into hell. Yes, I tell you, I fear him!"

Edward turned from listening to Elsie back to the interrogator and stood tall, meeting his gaze. Elizabeth held her head high and set her teeth. "Go on," Elsie said with a smile, "Kill us. If it's the Lord's will, he will allow it, and we will soon be with him, never to feel pain again. But He will not allow us to die if He does not wish us to."

"We'll see about that," the man laughed, and the guard jerked at their bonds, leading them away. Elizabeth swallowed. Despite Elsie's encouraging speech, she still felt an awful feeling in her stomach. And Edward—he still had an aunt and uncle he loved, what was he feeling now? She glanced at him, but he had his head held high in stoic determination. Elizabeth smiled a bit then, a true smile, because she realized that Edward would never die weakly. She knew he would clench his teeth and proudly tilt up his chin even when the flames were overpowering and he was nearly dead. She glanced at Elsie and realized the same was true for her. They had the same blood, Edward and Elsie. The same determination and love for the Lord. Elizabeth shook her head and held it high as her back was pressed against the stake. She felt the rough ropes being pulled tight; cutting off the circulation in her bare arms and pressing hard against her stomach. She felt something brush her fingers and shifted her neck to see Edward's fingers reaching for hers. Smiling, she wriggled her arm a bit so that she could reach his hand. The larger, rougher hand swallowed hers up and she suddenly felt as though she could die a hundred times and thrice more if she had Edward to die with her.

The pile at their feet was ignited, and Elizabeth watched as the flames crept towards them. The wind blew the heat into her face, and Edward's grip tightened. She knew one thing was for certain—he would not let go of her hand until she was safe with their Father. The flames crept closer and closer, and the heat grew overpowering...

Edward felt Elizabeth's hand trembling in his and he squeezed it tighter, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the jeers and shouting. Then he heard a frail voice on his left speaking.

"Our Father, Who art in heaven,"

Edward smiled and joined his deeper, louder voice in with Elsie's.

"Hallowed be Thy Name."

Elizabeth trembled and opened her mouth, joining in.

"Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the Evil One, for Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen."

As the last word escaped their lips, the ground trembled beneath them so the very flames of the fire quivered. Then the ground ruptured, and a great stream of water shot into the air. The foaming green torrents ceased their rushing only when every flame was quenched. Edward felt Elizabeth's hand trembling again, and he shouted in his most commanding tone, "UNBIND US!" The executioner stepped forward in fear and slashed through their ropes. Elsie stepped down gracefully, as if nothing had happened. But Elizabeth nearly collapsed, and Edward had to support her. "You'll be alright," He told her quietly.

Somewhere, someone called out, "Witchcraft!" and soon the cry was taken up by the crowd. Edward tightened his grip on Elizabeth's hand and took Elsie's small, grimy one as well. The girl handed a brave smile up to him, and he returned it with one of his own.

After a few moments of confusions, the executioner jerked them towards the guillotine.

"Your water demons can't help you now," He laughed, thought not without a flicker of fear lingering in his eyes. He worked his shoulders and surveyed the three prisoners. "Who first?" He asked with a crooked smiled. "Trust me, you'll want to, unless it pleases you to watch the others and then place your throat on their blood while you stare at their severed heads."

Elizabeth shuddered and choked, and Edward held her for a moment, shaking as he drew away to step forward. But Elsie again was ahead of him, and Elizabeth hardly looked up in time to see her thin frame roughly thrust onto the planks before she let out a cry and buried her face in Edward's shoulder. She wanted to scream. She wanted to stop her ears and flee. She wanted anything but to hear that dreadful sound and be forced to look, and to see—Edward held her tighter, her need for his strength the only thing that kept him standing. But the sound—it never came. There was instead a cry from the executioner, and Elizabeth lifted her face in dread. He was clutching his ankle in pain, and she soon saw the reason why. A serpent was slithering away from him, turning back now and again to hiss and show the fangs still red with his blood. Edward hurriedly gathered Elsie in his arms and then turned to the man.

"I am a doctor. Let us go and I will help you. You will perish if you do not."

There was a moment's silence.

And then, from overhead, came a familiar voice.

"Do not let them go."

Four heads lifted to see, next to the king's throne, the horrid smile of Barnabas Winchester.