The Virgin Blue by Tracy Chevalier

cart, looking back at the strange boys. She was never hit by the rocks. Once Hannah was: it was only when Etienne turned to speak to her long after the boys were gone that he saw blood trickling down the side of her face from the top of her head. She continued to stare straight ahead as Isabelle leaned over to dab gently at the blood with a piece of dampened cloth.
Marie began listing everything she could see.
— There's a barn. And there's a crow. And there's a plough. And there's a dog. And there's a church needle. And there's a pile of hay on fire. And there's a fence. And there's a log. And there's an axe. And there's a tree. And there's a man in the tree.
Isabelle looked up when Marie stopped.
The man had been hanged from the branch of a small olive tree that could barely hold his weight. They stopped and stared at the body, naked but for a black hat rammed over his brow. His penis stood out stiffly like a branch. Then Isabelle saw the red hands, looked more closely at the face and drew in her breath sharply.
— It's Monsieur Marcel! she cried before she could stop herself.
Etienne clucked and began to run, pulling the horse with him, and they quickly left the vision behind, the boys glancing back several times until the body was out of sight.
For a few hours afterwards Marie was silent. When she began to list things once more, she avoided mentioning anything made by men. They reached a village and she simply repeated: — And there's the ground. And there's the ground — over and over until they had passed through.
They had halted at a stream to let the horse drink when an old man appeared on the opposite bank.
— Don't stop here, he said abruptly. Don't stop at all until you reach Vienne. It is very bad here. And don't go near St Etienne or Lyons. He disappeared into the woods.
They did not stop that night. The horse plodded on exhausted while Hannah and the children slept in the cart and Etienne and Isabelle took turns leading. They hid during the day in a pine forest. When it was dark Etienne hitched up the horse and led it back onto the road. A moment later a group of men emerged from the trees on either side and surrounded them.
Etienne halted the horse. One of the men lit a torch; Isabelle could see the axes and pitchforks among them. Etienne handed the horse's rope to Isabelle, reached into the cart and pulled out the axe. He set the head carefully on the ground and gripped the end of the handle.
Everyone stood motionless. Only Hannah's lips moved in a silent prayer.
The men seemed unsure how to begin. Isabelle stared at the one who held the torch, watching his Adam's apple dart up and down. Then she felt a tickling at her ear: Marie had moved to the side of the cart and was whispering something.
— What is it? Isabelle murmured, still looking at the man and trying not to move her lips.
— That man with the fire. Tell him about God. Tell him what God wants him to do.
— What does God want him to do?
— To be good and not to sin, she replied firmly. And tell him we are not staying here.
Isabelle licked her lips. Her mouth was dry.
— Monsieur, she began, addressing the man with the torch. Etienne and Hannah jerked their heads at the sound of her voice.
— Monsieur, we are on our way to Geneva. We are not stopping here. Please let us pass.
The men stamped their feet. A few chuckled. The man with the torch stopped swallowing.
— Why should we? he demanded.
— Because God does not want you to sin. Because murder is a sin.
She was shaking and could say nothing more. The man with the torch took a step forward and Isabelle saw the long hunting knife in his belt.
Then Marie spoke, the metal in her voice ringing out through the woods.
— Notre Père qui es aux cieux, ton nom soit sanctifié , she called out.
The man stopped.
— Ton règne vienne, ta volonté soit faite sur la terre comme au ciel .
A pause, then two voices continued.
Donne-nous aujourd'hui notre pain quotidien . Jacob's voice rattled like