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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

A quiet figure among the revelry finally drew Sorcha’s eye. Nudging Nettie, she jerked her chin towards it. He may have his head covered and be draped in a black cloak, but they knew him for what and who he was. Once more, the reverend gazed upon his handiwork. Was he horrified to see what he’d incited? What he’d given birth to?

‘God, don’t forgive them,’ whispered Sorcha, ‘for they know exactly what they do.’

‘Amen,’ said Nettie softly.

It wasn’t until the cart was wheeled away and the door finally removed from Janet, allowing the crowd to see she was indeed dead, that people, mostly subdued, started to disperse. Even then, there were those who prised her off the road and held her broken, bloody body up for Sorcha and Nettie to see.

It’s not Janet. It’s not Janet. Sorcha kept the mantra going. She had to, she had to believe it. This bent, malleable form was not human. It was a scarecrow divested of its stuffing, a skin without contents. Janet was with God now. Her God.

Annoyed that Sorcha, Nettie and the others appeared unmoved, the men shouted they would be next. Sorcha simply stared through the glass. When the remaining guards hefted weapons in their direction, the men’s bold pronouncements faded.

‘To the Tolbooth!’ shouted one of them. ‘There be more witches there!’ The cry was taken up.

Scooping Janet’s body up, as if she were a great catch brought to land, they swiftly departed, taking her corpse with them. As dawn broke across the Weem, sending the winking, blinking stars to bed and shedding a pale mauve light over the town, the horde marched through the streets, singing, drinking, celebrating, torches raised high.

Sorcha could hear them. For ages, their voices continued to ring. Finally, after all this time, they had their justice. They’d protected the Weem, each other, their homes, their families — and from what?

An old fishwife whose greatest sin was to speak the truth.

Fifty-Two

FIFTY-TWO

image

Dummy wunnae lee.

(Here is visible evidence, so you need not argue.)

‘You said they wouldn’t harm her further, that they’d bring her to the Tolbooth,’ blared Bailie Cook, shoving his face into the reverend’s before beginning to pace again. ‘Well, fuck that. What are we supposed to do now?’ The question was directed at Bailie Vernour.

Having returned from the Tolbooth, where they’d ordered a group of soldiers guarding the door to find Janet Cornfoot, the Pittenweem council were reconvened in Cook’s dining room. The remnants of their earlier meal as well as the odours of whisky and tobacco mingled with the men’s sweat and trepidation at what they’d just learned — their concern not so much what had happened to Janet Cornfoot, but what her demise portended for them. Their faces were red, their words clipped and angry.