It was of little surprise to me that when I arrived at the meeting hall, the men of the town council were already there. Alice had – after some persuasion – come with me but she had stayed silent and sullen by my side as we walked through the streets.
As we approached the hall, we could hear the sound of men’s voices. Not raised in anger, but more rumbling in agreement. It was dark outside, but the hall was lit with lanterns and we could see the glow round the doors and from the windows.
I exchanged a glance with Alice and in quiet agreement we both stepped forward at the same time and pushed open the wooden door.
Everyone in the room turned to look at us and I felt a moment of sheer fright. There were fifteen or twenty men – men I’d known all my life – but right then no one seemed familiar. They all looked at us – Alice and me – with hostility. I felt very strongly that we were intruding, that they didn’t want us there. And once my initial nerves had subsided, that feeling made me more determined.
Alice, who had always been so outspoken and unafraid, shrank down behind me. ‘We should leave,’ she said in a quiet tone, but I shook my head.
‘I am a burgess and this council should not be meeting without me,’ I said. I didn’t speak loudly but my voice seemed to carry over the heads of the men who stared at us.
Davey was there, to the side. He looked up and caught my eye and, remembering the feel of his lips on mine, I felt my face flush, and dropped my gaze. In the far corner of the room was a space at the table – my space. I tugged Alice’s sleeve and I walked slowly, chin lifted, to the chair. Alice stayed where she was, hovering beside the door. She looked as though she was about to bolt and I knew I couldn’t stop her running if she wanted to.
I sat down at the table, the legs of my chair scraping loudly in the quiet room, and looked round at the men. I knew them all. Men who’d fished alongside my John, whose babies I had delivered or whose wives I had helped to nurse a weak child. Men who had known me since I was learning to walk, or who I had known since they were squalling in a crib. Davey, of course. Gregor. The minister from the kirk. And one stranger.
He was sitting beside Gregor at the head of the table. While everyone else was stiffly upright, this man was leaning back in his chair, watching us all with sharp eyes. He was richly attired in a plain black velvet jacket and a soft hat and he looked as though he didn’t belong here. As I watched him, he shifted slightly in his seat and Gregor took that as his cue to carry on speaking.
‘As I was saying,’ Gregor said, looking at me with a defiant expression. ‘There have been some troubling stories told and I would be remiss if I did not investigate further.’
There was a rumbling of agreement as the men all nodded. I looked over to where Alice stood by the door, her eyes wide with fright and I felt my resolve harden.
‘Forgive me,’ I said. ‘I was unaware this meeting was taking place and so I missed you explain the nature of these stories. Could I ask you to elaborate further?’
‘At this point, I cannot,’ said Gregor. ‘I think the people of the town have all heard the whispers, but until we have more proof …’ He emphasized the word ‘more’. ‘We should wait.’
He smiled at me, showing his teeth. Like a wolf baring his teeth at a lamb, I thought. I smiled back, hoping my eyes were as icy cold as his.
‘Wise,’ I said. ‘It is important to be sure.’
Gregor gave me a small nod. ‘Indeed. And to that end, may I introduce my friend, Malcolm Black.’
The velvet-clad man sat up straighter and, unsmiling, nodded a greeting to the room. And in that second I suddenly understood who he was. Because I had heard the name Malcolm Black before. I had heard it in huddled whispers and frightened rumours from travellers who had passed through nearby towns and seen him at work. I swallowed and looked over to Alice, who was slumped against the wall, white-faced, any last remnants of fight gone. She knew too, then. Knew that Malcolm Black was a witch finder. The most determined, pious, and – if the stories were to be believed – the most vicious witch finder in all Scotland.
‘Malcolm Black,’ I breathed.
At the head of the table, Malcolm Black stood up. ‘This pestilence is infecting all of Scotland,’ he said. He sounded as though he was confiding in everyone in the room. Taking them into his confidence, and sharing secrets. ‘But I am here to tell you, you should not fear. For God is mighty and we shall seek these witches and find them.’
His voice was loud without shouting and the men in the room were all gazing at him. The way they looked at him filled me with terror, because I knew they were already in his thrall.
‘The deacons and elders of the kirk will help me in my quest,’ he continued. The minister preened like a peacock and I curled my lip in disgust at his pride. ‘And I call on you burgesses to follow my lead and do what is necessary.’
There was a pause as the men all considered his words and for a second I felt a rush of hope. These were good men. They wouldn’t do this witch finder’s dirty work.
‘I remind you,’ Malcolm Black continued, his voice dripping poison, ‘that in cases as serious as this, it is clear that if you are not working with us, you are working against us and you can find yourself facing the assizes. Therefore I assume you will all follow my lead.’
This time the men all nodded vigorously and I couldn’t help but shake my head, disappointed in how easily they were recruited.
Now Malcolm Black looked directly at me. He put his hand flat on the table in front of him and I noticed how clean his fingernails were. How smooth his skin. I raised my eyes to meet his glare and almost winced when I saw the malevolence there.
‘You are?’
My mouth had gone dry. ‘I am Honor Seton,’ I said. ‘I am a burgess of this town.’
Malcolm Black scoffed. ‘No,’ he said.
‘My husband John …’ I began, but he waved his hand dismissively.
‘No,’ he said again. ‘Did not John Knox warn of the dangers of women holding authority,’ he said, talking to the men now, not me. ‘Did he not say that women who have property or power are a danger to the social order?’
The men all murmured their agreement. I tried to catch Davey’s eye, but he was looking at Gregor.
‘The social order has been created by God,’ Malcom went on. ‘And if we try to change it, we will face his wrath.’
I cleared my throat. ‘Be that as it may,’ I began, ‘I am a burgess.’
‘No longer.’
‘Gregor?’ I said. My voice was shrill. ‘Gregor, who is he to dismiss me?’
Gregor raised his head. ‘He is the guest of the laird.’ He gave me that wolfish smile again. ‘And the laird also dismisses you.’
I looked round at the faces of the men, waiting for someone – anyone – to speak out. To say that I had been a burgess since my John had died. That I had worked hard for the town. But they stayed silent. I looked at Davey and he met my gaze and then dropped his eyes to the table. Weak, I thought. Him and me. I pushed my chair back with a squeak and stood up, knowing I was beaten.
Gregor watched me looking at his brother and like a cat pouncing on a mouse, he saw his chance. ‘Mr Black, there has been talk in the town that Widow Seton is close to my brother, Davey Kincaid,’ he said. The way he said ‘close’ made it sound sordid and sinful. ‘And therefore I believe this is an opportunity to lay these rumours to rest. If Davey is indeed a friend …’ He said ‘friend’ as though it was something amusing. I didn’t think it was funny. ‘If Davey is indeed a friend of Widow Seton then he should leave the meeting too. If not, then he is welcome to stay.’
No one moved. I took a sharp inward breath, hearing my own heart thumping. I had not expected the finger of suspicion to point at Davey so soon. I glanced at Alice, but she simply shook her head. And I waited, as time stretched to breaking point, for Davey to speak.
Eventually, Davey looked up. ‘I know Widow Seton,’ he said clearly. ‘Of course I do. She is known throughout the town. But I am no closer to her than any man here.’
I breathed in again, his words hitting my heart like darts.
Malcolm looked at Davey through narrowed eyes. ‘What is Widow Seton to you?’ he said.
Davey glanced at me briefly. ‘Widow Seton is nothing to me.’
There was a pause and then I pulled my shoulders up and, gathering every bit of courage I had, I walked slowly from where I stood at the table to where Alice stood. I took her hand and together we pushed open the doors from the hall and went out into the cold, dark night. We didn’t look back.