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Back The Darkest Shore Save as PDF
Chapters (76)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Also by Karen Brooks
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. EXPLANATORY NOTE
  7. PART ONE
  8. One
  9. Two
  10. Three
  11. Four
  12. Five
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Fourteen
  22. Fifteen
  23. Sixteen
  24. Seventeen
  25. Eighteen
  26. Nineteen
  27. Twenty
  28. Twenty-One
  29. Twenty-Two
  30. Twenty-Three
  31. Twenty-Four
  32. Twenty-Five
  33. Twenty-Six
  34. Twenty-Seven
  35. Twenty-Eight
  36. PART TWO
  37. Twenty-Nine
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-One
  40. Thirty-Two
  41. Thirty-Three
  42. Thirty-Four
  43. Thirty-Five
  44. PART THREE
  45. Thirty-Six
  46. Thirty-Seven
  47. Thirty-Eight
  48. Thirty-Nine
  49. Forty
  50. Forty-One
  51. Forty-Two
  52. Forty-Three
  53. Forty-Four
  54. Forty-Five
  55. Forty-Six
  56. Forty-Seven
  57. Forty-Eight
  58. Forty-Nine
  59. Fifty
  60. Fifty-One
  61. Fifty-Two
  62. PART FOUR
  63. Fifty-Three
  64. Fifty-Four
  65. Fifty-Five
  66. Fifty-Six
  67. Fifty-Seven
  68. Fifty-Eight
  69. Fifty-Nine
  70. Sixty
  71. Sixty-One
  72. Epilogue: Autumn 1706
  73. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  74. GLOSSARY
  75. LIST OF CHARACTERS
  76. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Ashamed of her unclothed body, despite her bold actions of past days, Beatrix had hunched in the chair as best as she could with her hands and feet tied, aware of how pendulous her breasts, how shrivelled her stomach. As she’d stared at her wrinkly knees, she’d tried to think of anything rather than the high-voiced man with the clean-smelling clothes who’d until this moment, apart from playing with his needles like a lover his mistress, mainly threatened her. Now he held up his implements one by one, remarked on the differing thicknesses, the little cross-bar that prevented him from inserting them too deeply into her soft flesh.

In a loud voice he began to explain to the reverend and bailies what he intended to do, how he would proceed. She refused to listen. Rather, she allowed her mind to drift…

The first needle went in. Driving it slowly into her leg, above her ankle, it was the same spot Mr Bollard found yesterday after pressing and pulling her flesh in all sorts of places to get a reaction. Ensuring she was watching as he pushed it in further and further, he waited for a response. She sucked her breath in deeply. She knew she should have felt something, but because it was the exact place she’d injured her leg years earlier, it was most often numb. It was the reason she limped. Even so, it felt as if all he’d done was rest the cold cross-bar against her leg; as if only the very tip had broken the skin.

When it appeared he’d driven it in as far as it would go, he left it there and raised his face towards the bailies.

‘You see, gentlemen. A normal woman would be prone with suffering. I have pushed it into her until it can go no further. What happens? Nothing.’ He gestured with his hand, a showman with an act. ‘A witch has no feeling. Look, this canny one studies the iron like a familiar.’

Too late, Beatrix understood she should have howled the Tolbooth down.

Before she could amend her error, Mr Bollard extracted the needle swiftly. There was a trickle of blood, but not as much as Beatrix expected, not even after he’d done this a few more times.

She should have cried out, struggled against her bindings. But she was too tired, her mind foggier than the Forth in autumn. It was absurd, the whole thing. How had it come to this? She dwelled upon her husband, dear, patient Mr Brown; her daughter and wee granddaughter; her friends, no doubt working down by the sea.