The Witch of Black Isle by Keira Montclair

Chapter Twenty-One

Jennet awakened with a headache, the smell of the sea overtaking her. Where was she? Her hands and feet were both bound.

“She’s awake!” Two men stepped to either side of her and yanked her to her feet.

Rows and rows of cruel, unforgiving faces stared at her, many holding torches, the odor nearly as powerful as the smell of the water. Her mind raced, trying to determine what the hell they wanted with her.

They wore the same plaid…she thought they might be Milton plaids, but she wasn’t certain of that. Obviously, she’d been hit over the head, captured, and stolen away. The festival had played an important part in the scheme to get her away from Clan Matheson. As the gates were left open, people came and went freely in the chaos without noticing anything that might be off.

She’d made a huge mistake by going outside to use a garderobe instead of waiting to use the one inside. After the threats she’d heard during the day, she should have stayed inside.

“Kill the witch! Kill the witch!”

The crowd chanted as two men lifted her by her arms, slogging her toward the water. She struggled against them, but with her hands and feet both bound, any movement was difficult. A large platform sat as if floating atop the water. They dragged her to the water’s edge, her slippers tearing on the rough rocks. A path had been cut in the weeds by the water that led to the platform. It was made of wood and carried far out into the water.

A voice came from behind her. “Put this on her.”

She turned around and stared straight into the eyes of an angry woman. “Why are you doing this? What did I do to you?”

“We told you to leave Ethan be. He belongs to Cori, but that is only one offense. You practice your witchery, turning his head when he loves my dearest friend Cori. You’ll not distract him again.” The men forced her into a garment made of burlap, the crowd growing louder with the chants, their temperaments turning irate and more agitated as time went on. Jennet glanced into the eyes of one and saw nothing but hate and a fury unlike she’d ever seen. They were not the least bit kind to her, shoving her, scratching her skin, the garment so rough on her skin that she guessed she’d be bleeding before she was free of it.

“Kill the witch! Kill the witch!”

Others shouted, “Drown her, drown her, drown her!” The crowd consisted mostly of men, but she noticed an occasional lass in the crowd, one with her fist high in the air and screaming with the men.

What had she ever done to that woman? Paralyzed with fear, she could come up with little to say to any of her accusers. The burlap tore at her skin, blood dripping down her arm through the holes.

Perhaps that was the intent. If she bled, she’d attract more fish in the water. The garment had several peculiar pockets sewn into the waist, though she had no idea what the strange compartments were for.

“Enough talking to the prisoner,” a male voice yelled into the crowd, quieting them immediately. The voice was oddly familiar but sounded quite a ways back, so the identity did not come to her.

“Ludan, I told you I would have my say with her.”

“You’ll close your mouth and stay out of this, Alva.” The man strode toward them, pushing against others.

“Brother, I was the one who told you she was here. You’d never know if not for me, so I will have a say in her treatment.”

The crowd parted and two men came forward; two of them she recognized.

Red and Slim—whose true name was Harry.

Red, or Ludan, as she now knew, came close to her and drew his finger down her cheek. “Your time is limited, lass who speaks with the forked-tongue. While I would have liked to taste you, make you understand how women are supposed to act, I don’t tarry with witches.”

“Slap her, Ludan. Make her understand who is in charge.”

Ludan said, “Shut your mouth, Alva. This is an issue to be handled by men. She may have wronged you, but I don’t care about that. She threatened us with a wicked curse, and she must die before she finishes it.”

“She threatened to curse Cori too. Threatened to make all her hair fall out. Don’t allow her to do that to me. Mama said you were to take care of anyone who threatened me, Ludan. Tell Harry to let me take part in this.” Her voice carried the character of a spoiled child.

Ludan moved out to the end of the water platform and tied a rope to a pole that anchored the platform. There were four bricks tied to the end of four lengths of rope already set on the surface.

A prickle traveled down the length of Jennet’s spine when she looked at the rope and the bricks and started putting things together.

It was something that could be tied to her and hold her under water. The bricks were nearly the exact size of the pockets in her garment.

She closed her eyes, said a quick prayer, then thought, Ethan, where are you? Someone would notice her absence soon. She willed Tara to wake up and see her missing, willed her to go down the staircase, to search for her.

Someone had to be looking for her.

But at the moment, she had to depend on her own mind to get her out.

Think, think!

Cori entered the fray and said, “Perhaps this is going too far, Ludan.” Then she whispered as if Jennet couldn’t hear her, “Just scare her. Then she’ll leave Ethan to me.”

Ludan said, “Nay. She’ll pay for what she’s done, and other Ramsay women. I’ve heard about the one who shoots men in their bollocks. She needs to be stopped too. Listen to me, and I’ll tell you all the charges against the lass.”

Ludan stood on a boulder near the water, pompous and ready to make an announcement to the crowd, if she were to guess. “Listen all. This is the trial of one Jennet Ramsay. Once the charges have been proclaimed to a group of her peers in their entirety, she will have one test to pass to prove she is not a witch. If she fails, she’ll be shoved out of a boat with bricks tied to her so she’ll never be seen again.”

“But if she’s a witch, she’ll be able to set herself free.”

“Nay, we have the white stone marked with the sign of the cross that will prevent her witchery from taking place. She’ll wear that to the bottom of the firth. It will burn her flesh on the way down. And we also have another form of protection.” Then Harry called out, “Bring it forward.”

Three men carried a white cross made of wood and pounded it into the ground next to the platform.

“But what if she curses us all?” another voice cried.

“The white cross will protect us.”

“Then get on with it. Get her in the water before she can try to do anything.” A chorus of voices agreed with this person, eventually joining in another chant. “Kill the witch, kill the witch…”

The man named Ludan motioned with his arms to quiet the crowd. “In order to finish this, we must declare all of her crimes first.”

“Go ahead,” several voiced as the rest quieted.

“Jennet Ramsay, you are accused of using witchery many times in your short life. For each of the following, you will receive one brick in your garment. First, for threatening four innocent men with a fork-tongued snake in the middle of the night. Second, for casting a spell on Ethan Matheson to make him choose you as a wife instead of his betrothed, Cori Milton. Third, for threatening a spell against Cori Milton to make her hair fall out. Fourth, for a deed witnessed by many several years ago, making a man pass out at your command.”

They’d heard about Bearchun.

“What say you, fair people of Clan Milton?”

“Guilty, guilty, guilty!”

Jennet did the only thing she could think to do—she began to chant. She used her own made-up words she’d been practicing since she was young. Every once in a while she’d throw in something the others could understand.

“Fork-tongued serpent.”

“Lose her hair, one strand at a time.”

She continued, her own voice small compared to the crowd’s, but eventually they heard her. Cori yelled, “Stop her, Ludan!”

The crowd became restless, and an uproar started again.

Suddenly another roar sounded, and it came from behind the gathering.

Ethan. Her beloved Ethan came forward. His eyes locked on hers to comfort her, to let her know he was there for her and that it would all be over soon. The crowd parted, allowing Ethan, Marcas, and Shaw down to the water’s edge.

Cori’s face lit up and she said, “Ethan. You came for me.”

“Let her go and I’ll marry you, Cori.”

“Nay, Ethan. You need not do that. Please.” The wave of elation Jennet had felt turned instantly to horror as she processed what Ethan had just said. She did not want her freedom on those terms.

A man joined Cori who had similar bone structure, then stepped forward and said, “You all are witness to this man agreeing to marry my sister.”

“Cori, why are you doing this? Egan,” Marcas said to the man next to her. “There’s no reason to force a marriage. She’d been married before. And this entire situation had nothing to do with Jennet.  She’s done nothing to you. Ethan didn’t wish to marry you and you didn’t care. Your past speaks quite loudly about your relationship.”

“Aye, we would have married if not for Alva and Dunn’s foolish pranks. I’ve changed my mind since then. He’s now a fine man and I wish to take him as my husband.”

Alva cried, “Stop blaming me for your problems. In fact, this is the way we’d prefer to prove that she is a witch.”

“What are you talking about, Alva? She’s not a witch.” Ethan stepped closer, but Ludan stood in front of her.

“Aye, she is, Ethan. She’s the one who placed the spell on you. I heard she cast spells everywhere when she was younger. She’s the one that put the spell on you years ago, preventing you from allowing anyone to touch you. ’Tis all her fault, and I can prove it.”

“You’ve gone daft, Alva. Now set her free or I’ll toss you into the water.” He took a step closer to Jennet, so they were nearly touching.

Jennet didn’t know what was happening. Surrounded by Milton men on her sides, Cori and Alva stood behind her. Ethan, Marcas, and Shaw faced Ludan and his men, fighting for her release, but they were only three men. If she knew what was about to happen, she could possibly come up with an escape, but she had no idea what test they had planned for her. Her understanding of any witch trials in the past had always been impossible tasks. They were designed to fail, guaranteed to put the witch to her death. It was the only result that would satisfy the crowd.

“Stay away from my sister. But if you’re so sure of yourselves, put the witch to Alva’s test. You’ll see the proof of her core. She’s a witch, and you cannot change her.”

“Fine. Jennet will pass the test. She’s not a witch. What’s the test, and what is the proof that the test is real?”

Alva strode forward, her arms crossed, until she stopped in front of the two. “I’m happy to tell you the test, Ethan. Everyone knows that if a witch casts a spell on you, that her touch will burn that person. A spell makes you an untouchable, so let’s all see if the witch can touch you, Ethan.”

Jennet looked at Ethan, her stomach churning in larger somersaults than it had already been doing. It was now doing backflips that made her wish to heave off to the side.

Ethan wrapped his mind around the trap he’d just fallen into. He couldn’t tolerate Jennet’s touch, so if they conducted Alva’s test and Ethan pushed her away, that meant Jennet was a witch who’d cast a spell on him.

And she’d be put to death.

“Take your shirt off, Ethan,” Alva said. Cori came up beside her, her eyes wide in anticipation of the test. Everyone in both clans knew Ethan couldn’t tolerate the touch of a woman. They all expected him to fail.

Would he? Jennet peered up at him as he removed his shirt, willing to put himself and her through this test.

Alva looked from his chest to Jennet. “Now, witch. You must touch his chest with your hand, place it flat against him, and if he flinches or pushes you away, then your fate is sealed. You’ll be taken out in the boat with the bricks in your pockets and tossed overboard.”

Marcas’s hand clasped his brother’s shoulder as an act of encouragement. “You can do this, Ethan.”

“One flinch, Ethan. Of your chest, your face, any movement will tell the truth.”

Ludan took hold of one of Jennet’s wrists and released the rope to free her hand. “Go ahead, witch. Touch him. And you must hold it there for two minutes.”

Jennet looked up at Ethan and took a small step forward. They locked gazes, and she felt a rush of confidence. She trusted him, and he would help her out of this, even if he flinched. Jennet fought the tears that wanted to come to her eyes, refusing to allow Alva or Cori the satisfaction. She lifted her hand and flinched herself at the sudden loud chant of the crowd.

“Touch him, touch him, touch him!” She guessed the crowd probably numbered more than a hundred people, more than Clan Matheson could fight off, so this was indeed the only way out.

Jennet lifted her hand, ready to set her fingers lightly on Ethan’s chest, but at the last moment, Ludan grabbed her hand and slammed it against his skin.

Practically guaranteeing he’d flinch.