The morning sun painted the ancient town square with a soft, golden glow, illuminating the cobblestone streets and the thatched rooftops. The air had the scent of freshly baked bread wafting from nearby bakeries and the faint tang of woodsmoke from the village hearths. A young girl, no older than twelve, paused in her chore of carrying a pail of water, watching as a commotion grew around the gallows. It is Scotland in 166...