THERE IS THE light of a lantern outside my cell.
Hushed voices, a scrape of a key, and Beatriz was with me.
We embraced.
‘I want you to take this.’ She leaned forward to speak quietly in my ear, glancing, as she did so, towards the door. There was a man there, standing in the shadows.
‘What is it?’
She took a tiny bottle from under her habit and withdrew the stopper. A sickly smell filled my nostrils. ‘It’s a calming brew. A mixture of my own devising. Camomile and some other . . . herbs. It will steady your nerves for the morning.’ She held it to my lips. ‘Come now. Zarita. Drink this. If only because it’s the last thing I ask you to do,’ she coaxed me. ‘It will settle your mind and help you through your ordeal.’
I drank the thick syrup down. When I’d finished, Aunt Beatriz drew me close to her. ‘Let me look at you one last time. Your face’ – she reached up to touch my cheek – ‘so beautiful, so beautiful you are, and good too. Never forget that you are beloved and good.’
I reached out for her.
‘Ah, you are trembling. That will soon pass.’ She took off her hooded outer cloak. ‘Put this on. It will keep you warm.’
I shivered and then I giggled. I put my hand to my mouth, scarcely believing I’d done so. ‘It seems amusing,’ I tried to explain, ‘that we should worry that I might catch cold, when in a few hours I am to die by fire.’
‘Hush,’ Beatriz chided me. ‘Not so loud, Zarita. I’d rather you were silent. Can you promise me that, Zarita?’
‘What?’ My words were slurring. The thoughts in my head disjointed.
‘That you will remain silent. Please.’
The nun’s vow to maintain regular periods of silence had always been a problem for me. Again it struck me as a funny thing for her to say. There it was again. Lazy laughter bubbling up inside me as my senses whirled. I felt very faint. I mumbled something but had no idea whether I said the words aloud or not.
Beatriz was struggling with me, trying to edge my arm under the canopy of her cloak.
‘Help me here,’ she whispered hoarsely to the man by the doorway. ‘We have so little time.’