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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

‘Sorcha! Sorcha!’ chanted the crowd. ‘Long live justice! Long live the Weem!’

The men twirled her about, forcing her to grab the creel so she didn’t slide off. She began to laugh too. It was once the men stopped spinning her about and the sea, sky and land became still again that she spied him.

The laughter died in her throat as she saw Reverend Cowper standing at the far end of the harbour wall, his hands hanging by his sides, his face stern but unreadable. Behind him a large crowd had gathered, looking equally foreboding as they crossed their arms and regarded what was happening upon the shore with silent disapproval.

Sorcha leapt off the creel, landing on her knees in the sand. As she was helped to her feet, calls rang out to head to the tavern once work was finished, but she couldn’t help but feel that somehow what had just happened was an omen.

The triumph her friends felt, the quiet sense that proper legal processes had been set in motion, was temporary, a mirage that would dissolve faster than frost beneath the sun. Sorcha and her deed may have risen, but the heights were short-lived as she was flung onto her knees.

Onto her knees before a man who, she knew in her heart, wouldn’t forgive her.

It wasn’t that she’d brought the lairds to the Weem or that they’d ordered a trial for the murder of Janet Cornfoot and forced the council to answer for their part in it that would earn his wrath. It was because in doing that, she’d not only undermined his authority, but worse, made a right galoot of him and all he stood for.

Fifty-Six

FIFTY-SIX

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We are perswaded [sic] the government will examine this affair to the bottom, and lay little stress upon what the magistrates or the minister of Pittenweem will say to smooth over the matter…

— A Letter From a Gentleman of Fife to his Friend in Edinburgh, 1705

‘Now,’ said Bailie William Bell, drawing together the documents spread out on the table in the council room on the top floor of the Tolbooth, ‘we need to discuss how we’re going to afford this.’ He shook the paper he plucked from the pile. ‘This latest directive from the lairds in Edinburgh demands that the men we arrested be taken to the city for trial as soon as possible.’

Bailie Robert Cook’s head slumped into his hands and he clutched what remained of his hair. ‘Just when we’ve some funds to continue repairs to the pier.’ He raised his chin and, reaching for the letter, took it from William and scanned it quickly. ‘It’s not just the cost of transporting the prisoners. They expect us to pay for their upkeep while they await trial in the city as well. The cheek!’