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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

Chuckling inwardly, the reverend abandoned his sermon and instead wrote ‘brave’, ‘maintains order’, ‘inspires loyalty’, the list of Captain Ross’s qualities growing with each sip of his drink. Let the captain believe his witch was safe; that this battle was over. The sappie-headed jock didn’t understand who or what he was dealing with.

It wasn’t just a small-town cleric the captain was fighting, but the devil himself, the devil in the guise of a woman. A woman who’d bewitched him, just as she did all who came within her ken.

He regarded the lad on the other side of the desk morosely. Just as she had bewitched Peter Morton.

Only now, through God’s good grace and Patrick Cowper, the lad’s eyes were about to be opened.

Thirty-Four

THIRTY-FOUR

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I’ll sowther her ower.

(I’ll calm her down.)

At last it was official. Those Peter Morton had named as witches, who Reverend Cowper and the bailies had arrested, imprisoned and forced to suffer, had been pardoned by the Privy Council in Edinburgh. It had taken until the middle of November, but now Sorcha had the papers to prove it.

She placed the documents safely in her da’s old sea chest, closed the lid and slowly lowered herself upon it, praying she’d never have to look at them again.

Where was the relief she expected to feel now it was all over? Perhaps in her heart she knew it wasn’t finished. As long as Reverend Cowper kept preaching against witches, against those he felt had unjustly escaped his clutches, and as long as folk listened, it never would be.

She leaned back against the wall and thought over what had led to this moment.

Two days earlier, the rest of the accused witches — with the exception of Isobel Adam, who had gone earlier, and Janet Cornfoot, who remained in St Fillan’s Cave pending additional charges (which was really just an excuse to punish her further and keep her locked up) — had travelled to Edinburgh and faced the sheriff, the Earl of Rothes, the advocate and other officials. Nettie overrode the earl’s arrangements for transporting them and insisted on paying extra, hiring a coach for the journey, as if they were grand ladies and not a bunch of recuperating prisoners. Dressed in the best clothing they owned, they still bore the marks of their confinement, albeit much faded. At least Nicolas could now walk unaided.

They were to leave husbands and family at home and undertake the journey with only a couple of constables as outriders representing Weem officialdom and each other for company. It was how they’d endured in the Tolbooth, and how they would face the city authorities.