Murad walked slowly to the window and stood beside Balibey, his gaze locked on the ominous silhouette of the square. Outside, an unsettling crowd had gathered. Nearly the entire town was present, each person clutching a flickering torch. The square glowed with wavering yellow flames, casting sinister shadows along the walls.
At the center of the crowd, a massive fire burned. Crimson flames stretched toward the sky, and just behind them stood a woman with bound hands. Her dress was torn, her hair disheveled. Beside her, a black-robed priest stood, shouting something in Latin. With every sentence, angry murmurs rose from the crowd.
Murad frowned and, without taking his eyes off the woman, spoke to Balibey.
"Balibey, we're going down. I want to understand what's happening here. What could a woman possibly have done to deserve execution by fire?"
Balibey bowed. "As you command, my Sultan."
Murad turned to Cafer and Kasım. "Stay here. Keep watch over Viki," he ordered, then swiftly exited the room with Balibey.
In the stone-paved entrance of the inn, an old man crouched near the door, watching the square intently. His eyes squinted, his face lined with age. He was the innkeeper.
Murad approached and asked in a firm voice, "What is happening outside? Why are they executing that woman?"
The innkeeper gave them a quick once-over before turning back to the square.
"They say she's a witch, sir. They found various herbs, dried plants, and... some dead animals in her home. Gutted creatures with their insides exposed. When people saw that, they went mad. We used to know her as a healer, but after what they found, they started calling her a witch."
Murad remained silent for a moment, a dark shadow passing over his face. "Is that all it takes to be labeled a witch?"
The innkeeper sighed deeply and lowered his voice.
"And... her hair is red. But she washes it with ash every day to hide it. That terrified people even more."
Murad looked up in disbelief. "Just because her hair is red? That makes someone a witch?"
The innkeeper nodded. "They say red-haired women serve the devil. People cling to their beliefs, even if the truth is right in front of them."
Balibey leaned in and whispered, "My Sultan, this is an ancient superstition in Europe. Red-haired women are seen as cursed, witches by birth. They burn them without evidence, driven by fear alone."
Murad remained quiet, staring at the woman by the fire. A storm of anger rose in his chest, the imbalance of justice knotting tightly in his heart.
He took a deep breath. "We must save her," he said. "In our faith, those who remain silent in the face of injustice are mute devils. I will not be silent in the face of such cruelty."
With those words, he drew his sword. In the darkness, it shimmered with a blue light. Nature's energy surged through him, raising the hairs on his arms. His eyes turned a brilliant blue as the familiar warmth rose in his chest. The energy surrounding his blade shimmered like waves, and Balibey's eyes glowed in response. He too reached for his sword. The innkeeper gasped as the two men transformed before him.
Before he could blink, the two figures vanished.
Murad and Balibey shot forward like arrows, leaping over the square and appearing at the fire in the blink of an eye. As the crowd gasped, Murad slashed the bindings and lifted the woman from the stake. In the same fluid motion, he leapt back into the shadows. The onlookers couldn't even follow with their eyes.
Left behind, Balibey locked eyes with the priest.
"I am certain... If Jesus were alive and saw this, he would call you the devil. Yet you claim to follow him."
The priest stumbled back as Balibey vanished like a shadow. A sharp wind swept through the square, leaving only the fire's roar behind.
After a stunned pause, the priest turned to the crowd, shouting:
"You saw it! The witch's allies came for her! They are cursed like her! Go after them! God's justice must be served! CATCH THEM!"
The mob erupted in fury, torches waving wildly as they charged toward the back alleys. But Murad and Balibey had already vanished into the night.
Murad slipped into the inn carrying the rescued woman. In the blink of an eye, he was inside. He gently laid her down. The young woman trembled, shoulders shaking, eyes staring blankly. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Fear had stolen her voice.
Balibey reappeared just then. As he entered, the noise of the crowd rose again outside. Shouts and bells rang out, echoing from the square to the inn:
"Find them! Don't let them escape! They're the witch's servants!"
Murad stepped toward the window and then turned to Balibey.
"It seems we won't be spending the night here," he said firmly. "Go upstairs. Bring the others down. We can't waste time."
Balibey moved to obey, but before he could climb the stairs, footsteps echoed. Cafer, Viki, and Kasım had already come down, each carrying bundles. They had clearly seen everything and prepared.
Cafer spoke quickly:
"We need to leave, don't we my Sultan. The mob is out of control."
Murad nodded. "Yes. We'll use the back exit. We need horses. But I don't want to kill the townspeople. They're blinded by fear and ignorance. We will not shed blood."
They made for the back door. Using the cover of night, they moved quietly through narrow alleys. A few townspeople passed nearby, but they melted into the shadows.
After checking two or three stables, they found one with four healthy horses. The structure appeared abandoned, but inside were well-kept mounts. Kasım and Cafer quickly saddled the horses.
Once ready, Murad mounted with the rescued woman in his arms. Balibey took Viki behind him. Kasım and Cafer mounted as well. Murad looked to the sky and gave a single command:
"Deh!"
The horses thundered through the cobbled streets. A few tried to block their path with sticks and torches, but they avoided conflict, maneuvering around them with speed and precision. Dust and echoes were all that remained as the group escaped the town.
Under moonlight, they turned their horses south. After riding hard for some time, the sounds of pursuit faded. They finally stopped at a clearing, breathless and soaked in sweat. They decided to camp there for the night.
The rescued woman still trembled, as if she were still at the stake. Her eyes darted around, her body shivering.
Murad knelt beside her and spoke softly:
"Don't be afraid. You're safe now. We won't harm you. We're far from the town."
She looked at him with fear still in her eyes. Her lips trembled. Two words escaped in a whisper:
"...Thank you."
But she was still a mystery. Who was she? Was she truly a healer, or was there more to her story than anyone knew?
The answers remained hidden for now.