adnor plucked the petals from one of his mother's purple flowers as Garson tended his wounds nearby. He wiped away his tears and lightly touched the welt on his cheek. He looked up and watched as Garson carefully poured more water on his own bruises and abrasions from their father's fists.
"When will we be old enough to go to the Black Forest, Gar?" asked Radnor quietly. "I don't think he'll let us live much longer. Any of us."
He moved aside his leg as Garson came to sit with him in the hollowed space of the tree. Garson untied the strap from his hair so he could straighten the loose tendrils before tying it at the nape again.
"We almost didn't get out of this one," Radnor continued. "That new priest came just in time."
Garson dabbed at the blood that wouldn't stop spilling from his mouth. He spit out a large red blob and wiped his lips with his dirty black tunic. He'd begun wearing black so his mother wouldn't see the blood from the beatings when she was at the market.
"That new priest is why this happened," Garson replied as he lifted his shirt.
Radnor gulped at the large burn across Garson's chest. He reached out and traced the shape of the cross with his finger hovering in the air above it.
"Father Michael said it will heal when the devil is gone," Radnor said softly and wiped his eyes again.
"’When the devil is gone’?" Garson repeated angrily.
"You know what I mean, Gar," Radnor replied. "I would never say that about you. I know you don't have the devil in you, but most people think that way. That new priest is one of them.
At least Mother wasn't home. She would have stopped them, and Father would have beat her. I don't think this priest will intervene like Father O'Brien, God rest his soul."
"God wouldn't have to rest his soul if Father hadn't killed him," Garson said through an angrily clenched jaw. "Don't look at me like that, brother. You know he did. Everyone knows he did. That priest didn't ride horses. He was scared of even the carriage horses. Father was the only witness to him falling from a horse that didn't even belong to the rectory."
Garson sighed as he looked around and considered the days' events.
"Next year," he said quietly and looked around again to be certain they were alone.
"Next year?" wondered Radnor.
"I'll be fifteen then," Garson replied. "It will be easier to find work and provide for you and Mother."
"Mother's coming with us?" Radnor asked hopefully. "I didn't think she was allowed to leave because she's his wife."
"She can leave with us and no one can stop her," Garson answered with a strong determination in his tone. "Father will be angry but he's only one man. He won't know how to find us. Do you think any of these cowards will help him? They want me gone. They don't care if Mother is with us. They only care about ridding their province of the devil boy."
"I want her to come with us, too, Gar, but what if she doesn't?" Radnor worried. "If she doesn't leave and we disappear, Father will take his anger out on her.
It's bad enough he hurts her when she protects us. It's bad enough he hurts her for another child. He makes her cry every night they're in bed. He keeps saying she'll give him a better child or die trying. He doesn't even wait for her womanly time to be over anymore.
Gar, if we leave her here alone ... "
"Garson! Radnor!" Molly shrieked as she ran through her flowers.
She fell to her knees before them and sobbed at the sight of Charles' abuse.
"I'm so sorry," she cried into her hands. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here to stop this."
Both boys hugged her close and tried to soothe her crying.
"It was good you weren't here, Mother," Garson told her as he rocked her back and forth. "You surely would have tried to stop them, and Father would have hurt you, too."
She felt him wince as she tried to hug him, then the wetness from his clothes. She pushed away and looked down. Before he could stop her, she lifted his tunic and softly screamed.
"What did he do?" she shrieked. "What did that monster do to my son?"
"Mother, stop," Garson said as she started to stand.
They knew from her furious expression that she intended to confront Charles and the priest, who sat down to tea as though he'd done nothing wrong.
"Please, Mother, don't," pleaded Radnor with his arms wrapped tightly around her.
She grabbed his arms and tried shoving him away, but there was little she could do against her two strong boys. Not wanting to hurt either of their injuries, she forced herself to stay.
Shaking her head, she lifted Garson's tunic again and began to cry.
"We're leaving here, Mother," Garson told her and she stared up at him. "Radnor and I already discussed it. I'll be fifteen next year. I can find work and we can live together somewhere Father can't find us."
"The Black Forest," Radnor blurted.
"Anywhere but here," Garson added. "You'll come with us. We won't leave you here with him."
"Your father has hair on his chest," she mumbled without acknowledging what they had said. "I'll do my best to heal this, and what's left will be covered with hair."
Her lip trembled as she tried not to cry, the tears spilling out despite her efforts to stop them.
"Mother," Garson said as he held her hands. "Did you hear us? If we can be strong for another year, we can leave. Not even a year. My birthday was two months ago. Ten months, Mother. If we can hold on for ten months, we'll be fine."
"We can make it nine months since you won't have to find work right away," Radnor reasoned. "It will take us quite a bit to get to the Black Forest or somewhere close by. We can live there for a few weeks on things we hunt and gather, then you can look for a job. I can find work a year after that when I'm fifteen.
We'll be all right, Mother, you'll see," he smiled at her.
She watched them both and saw a light of hope she had never seen. Such an ambitious plan was more difficult than they understood, at least with her in it.
Charles would never allow her to leave, and the Church would take his side if he accused her of stealing his children. She would be arrested and either returned to him for him to punish his way or hanged if he made other accusations.
A woman who stole from her husband and kidnapped his sons had no hope of escape from the Church or the court, even though that whole province would know he was lying. They wanted Garson gone, not just from their town but from existence. To them, he was a demon that needed to be expelled from the earth.
It would be easier if she stayed and quelled the fires of their escape. Charles would kill her for allowing them to leave. She knew it but she didn't care. If he didn't do it, she would take her own life. Death wasn't a frightening thing to a woman like her. She wished she could pray for it every day, but she could never leave her children at the hands of the monster she'd forced upon them.
Without a word of logic that would extinguish their hope, she forced herself to smile and nod. She would let them make their plans, and when the time came, she would find a way to make them leave without her. She must if she was to help them survive.
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