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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

Running fingers through his thinning hair, the reverend stared out the window of his drawing room. Beyond the gravestones in the neighbouring kirkyard, the grey sea roiled. Wisps of mist hovered over the water. In the spaces between the stones he caught glimpses of the fishermen’s boats bobbing, their nets flung wide, their lines unspooled. Gulls hovered above them, cawing and shrieking as the men hauled in their catch. Closer to shore, he could see figures walking along the sands. Some he recognised, more were unfamiliar. That had been an unexpected boon of this witch hunt. The number of strangers who, learning what was afoot, flocked to the Weem to see for themselves.

As word spread across Fife that Pittenweem had imprisoned witches, eight of them — well, seven now — folk travelled to town. These incomers brought much-needed coin. Already he’d heard how the tavern was selling more ale than it had since the war began. Local farms could scarce keep up with the demand for eggs, poultry, milk and cheese. Even the paltry catch was being sold before it landed. The inns were full for the first time in years, so full locals had taken to billeting people — even Anster and St Monan’s were benefiting from the influx. If nothing else, witchcraft was good for business.

The thought aroused a real smile.

But he was wasting time and there was still work to do before the witches were brought to trial. He left the drawing room, almost bowling over a maid waiting to sweep the hearth, and went to his study, where he began to shuffle some papers, anything to take his mind off Thomas Brown, the women in the Tolbooth, the silent, glowering one in St Fillan’s Cave. In the rooms beyond, he could hear his children talking. The low voice of his housekeeper urged them to be quiet because their father was working. They paid her no attention. Who could blame them? What a weak, mousy woman she was. Still, she was a Covenanter like him, godly, even if bedding her was like pounding a half-full sack of grain. He frowned. He shouldn’t think about that. He shouldn’t think about women at all and yet, if he were truthful, over the past couple of months he’d been obsessed by them.