An’ it harm none, do what ye will.
It was the first thing she’d learned, and something he’d never compromised. He had always been a man of law, order and discipline.
Travelling from city to city reuniting the living with their dead was not a crime.
Traheme. By only thinking his name she was thrown into the depths of grief once more. A gust of wind brushed her face; instead of a chill, scorching heat penetrated her pores like small needles. The odor of burnt flesh mixed with the fragrance of smoking aspen logs overwhelmed her senses. Some years had passed since he was burned at the stake, yet she could not forget his harrowing shrieks of pain or how she was forced to watch helplessly as the man she loved succumbed to the flames.