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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

‘Did you hear that, gentlemen?’ crowed the reverend.

‘I did,’ the men said in chorus. Like they were lads in school. There were more mutterings. ‘Dear God,’ said someone loudly.

Dear God. Dear God. Help me.

‘Tell me, Beatrix,’ whispered the reverend, resuming his position at her feet. ‘Who are your accomplices in this terrible bewitchment?’

Beatrix’s eyes fluttered. Her lips moved.

The reverend came as close as he was able without getting blood upon him. Already the sheet was sticking to her body where Mr Bollard had plunged his needles in and out, in and out.

‘Who, Beatrix, tell me who?’ Behind him hovered the pricker. The needle in his hand caught the light. He was an angel with a flaming sword, waiting to plunge it into her flesh. She could bear it no longer.

Beatrix fixed her eyes on the reverend. Light shone from his blurry face.

‘’Twas all of them, Heavenly Father. ’Twas all of them.’

The reverend made a noise of frustration. He signalled the pricker to start his work again.

‘Nae, please,’ said Beatrix hoarsely.

‘I need names, Beatrix. And I need them now.’

She felt the blunt edge of a long needle against her breast. It broke the skin as it was forced into her pliant, ageing flesh. She screamed. As she did, a slew of names spewed from her mouth. It wasn’t her saying them, the reverend said. It was God. He plucked them from her head. And a few more she’d not thought of besides. He was All-Knowing, All-Powerful. He forgave her.

At some point, the needle was extracted. Blood was wiped from her throbbing breast. She was covered again. Her modesty preserved.

There was a lull as Reverend Cowper stood and stepped away. ‘You heard her. We’ve no time to lose, we’ve already wasted a week.’

His voice had changed. Had God abandoned her already?

‘Round them up,’ snapped the reverend. ‘Every last one, and do what we agreed. Take them to the Morton house and let’s see if the boy can corroborate what the witch says. It’s the least Edinburgh would expect.’

Beatrix heard rather than felt movement. The passing of shadows across her eyelids, the draught as their bodies sped away. Even the pricker left, thanks be to God.

They would all leave her in peace.

That was last night. Alick had untied her and, after washing her wounds, helped her back into her grubby shift. He even left her some food and a blanket before he departed. She’d fallen into the deepest of sleeps.

Now, with the cold light of early morning, the brief peace she’d felt deserted her. There was only dread.

Going over all that had happened, she could recall what that pricker had done, all his accusations. They were mere hurts to her body; to her reputation. It was what she’d said to Reverend Cowper that pained her the most.