I felt foolish. Foolish and ashamed and angry, and more than a little frightened. Alice was very sweet and didn’t say that she’d warned me that Davey wasn’t on our side, or remind me of all the times she’d told me not to trust him. Instead she held my hand as we hurried home through the cold evening air and deadlocked the door behind us.
‘What should we do?’ she said in a very small voice, once we were barricaded inside.
‘We need to go.’
‘But the cats …’
I pulled her close to me and held her tightly. ‘We need to go. Tonight.’
‘Where will we go?’
I was at a loss. Once upon a time the fishermen would have taken me where I needed to go – up the coast to Leith or even as far as Arbroath or Montrose. But I didn’t want to ask them. If Malcolm Black was here for me – and I was sure he was – then anyone who associated with me would be guilty too. I thought of Davey denying me in the meeting and shuddered. I couldn’t blame him for saving himself. Little Christy needed his father, and I would never expect Davey to sacrifice himself because we’d kissed once. It still stung, though.
‘Ma?’ Alice said again. ‘Where will we go?’
‘North,’ I said, making my mind up on the spot. ‘We’ll try to get to Edinburgh as fast as we can. Walk tonight and perhaps hitch a lift with a farmer in the morning.’
‘Is Edinburgh safe?’
I knew the witch-hunts were rife in the city, with women being tortured in the castle and their bodies thrown into St Margaret’s Loch. But I also knew the narrow, cobbled streets and crowded town would be a good place to hide. I nodded. ‘We can stay there a night or two and then move on.’
‘I don’t want to.’
I pulled her tighter to me again. ‘I know.’ I stroked her hair like I’d done when she was a tiny girl. ‘But I need you to trust me and I need you to do as I say.’
Alice didn’t speak.
‘Alice?’ I said. ‘Will you do as I say?’
She raised her eyes to mine and, reluctantly, she nodded. ‘I will.’
‘Good girl. Now, come. We need to pack. Not too much because we need to carry our bags ourselves and too much weight will slow us down.’
I tugged her arm and she followed me upstairs. I took out the loose floorboard and chose some of my records and phials to take with us, leaving the rest with genuine regret. We took a few clothes and tied them into our spare cloaks so we could hang them from our backs.
‘We can leave food for the animals,’ I said. ‘And set them free so they can go elsewhere when they’re hungry.’
Alice was quiet. ‘Alice, I know you’re sad about leaving the cats, but they will be fine,’ I said, tucking the ends of my cloak under each other and tying them securely. ‘Cats are independent creatures.’
Again Alice didn’t speak. I looked at her where she was kneeling on the floor, holding her own package in her arms. She was very still, her head cocked like she was listening, and her eyes were glazed as though she was looking at something far away.
‘Someone’s coming,’ she said.
‘No one’s coming,’ I assured her. ‘It’s quiet, listen.’
‘Shhh,’ Alice said forcefully. ‘They’re coming.’
I strained my ears, but I could hear nothing. Alice was still sitting, stock still, gripping her package. So I scrambled to my feet and went to the window. I lifted the latch and opened the small glass panel and leaned out. And there, over the wind and the crashing of the waves in the distance, I heard horses’ hooves.
‘They’re coming,’ Alice said again, more quietly this time.
I shut the window with a bang. ‘Alice,’ I said, rushing to her and holding her by the shoulders. ‘Alice.’
She focused on me, looking for all the world like she’d just woken up. ‘What?’
‘They’re coming,’ I said urgently. ‘You need to hide.’
‘No.’
‘You promised you would do as I asked,’ I said desperately. ‘You promised and now I’m asking.’
‘Come with me.’ She was crying now. ‘Come with me, Ma. We can both hide.’
I took her face in my hands and wiped away her tears with my thumbs. ‘If I come, they will look for us both. If you can hide tonight, you can leave before it gets light. Try to get on a cart – you’re so slight you can easily secrete yourself in the back.’
‘No,’ Alice said again. ‘I don’t want to.’
The pounding of the hooves was getting louder. ‘Alice Seton, you listen to me,’ I said sternly. ‘You need to go and hide immediately.’
Alice clung to me for a second. And then she got to her feet, still crying.
‘Wait,’ I said as she turned to go. ‘Take this.’ I thrust my own package at her. ‘Take the records. You might need them. Hurry.’
‘Ma,’ she said.
‘I know, my girl. I know.’ I pressed my lips to her temple and then gave her a gentle push. ‘You understand where to go?’
She nodded. She looked at me once more, her eyes huge in her white face, and then she turned and I heard her running down the stairs and out into the back of the cottage. I knew she would go to the goat shed. It was raised up from the ground, and there was space underneath. Impossible to see if you didn’t know it was there, but it had been a good hiding spot when Alice was small and didn’t want to do her chores or learn her letters.
I swallowed a sob, thinking about how perfect she had been as a little girl. How happy we’d been, just the two of us once my own mother had passed away. And how now my precious, clever, funny, quirky daughter would be all alone in the world. I hoped she would be all right. I thought she would because she was quick-witted and sharp, but she was kind – too kind – and people might take advantage.
Through the quiet streets outside I heard the horses come nearer. My heart was pounding in time to the rattling of their hooves.
‘Stay strong,’ I told myself aloud. ‘Stay strong, Honor.’
I shook out my cloak and put it on, then slowly, concentrating on nothing but putting one foot in front of the other, I went downstairs to wait my fate.
I didn’t have to wait long. Just a few minutes had passed when there was a thudding on my door and shouts from outside.
‘Widow Seton,’ a voice called. ‘Open up, Widow Seton.’
I thought about running. I thought about turning tail and haring it out of the back door and across the fields. It was dark and I knew this countryside better than Malcolm Black, who wasn’t even from these parts. I even knew it better than Gregor and Davey Kincaid who had never played outside as children, as I had. But I also knew they would follow with their horses – and their dogs – and I knew they would find me quickly and running would simply make me look guilty.
With supreme effort, I drew back the bolt on the door, and opened it. I expected to see the whole town council, with flaming torches and swords. But instead I simply saw Malcolm Black astride his horse, and Gregor Kincaid, who’d dismounted his own beast and was standing by my door, holding its reins.
‘Widow Seton,’ Gregor said as I opened the door. ‘You are accused of witchcraft.’
I lifted my chin. ‘I am entitled to appear at the assizes.’
On his horse, Malcolm Black tipped his hat up with the tip of his riding crop. I could see his ratty, narrow face in the moonlight. He gave me a nasty, mocking smile.
‘I am authorized by the Privy Council witch-hunting commission to summon an assize,’ he said. He sounded as though he had said these words many times before. ‘The assize will be of no more than forty-five men, and there will be a jury of fifteen.’
‘Men?’ I asked.
Malcolm Black looked down at me, his expression unreadable. ‘Pardon?’
‘Will it be fifteen men?’
‘It will.’
I nodded. As always it seemed it was men making decisions and women suffering for it.
‘We will compile a list of charges, which will be put to you at the assizes. You will have the opportunity to confess.’ He gave me a small, humourless smile. ‘Or to answer the charges put to you. We will also allow you the chance to tell us of any other witches you may know of in the area.’
‘Other witches.’ I felt sick hearing those words. It was clear these men had already found me guilty and no matter what I said now, their opinion would not change.
‘You are entitled to a lawyer,’ Malcolm Black went on. ‘Do you have the means to pay?’
I breathed in. I had never even met a lawyer. I knew fishermen and farmers and fathers and mothers. Not lawyers. ‘I do not.’
‘Very well.’
Something about the way the men were looking at me, as though I was already tortured, tried and convicted and on the way to the gallows, made my fear subside. Instead rage rose inside me.
‘When is my trial to be?’ I said.
Malcolm Black stared at me. ‘Tomorrow.’
‘Morning?’
‘Yes.’
‘Whereabouts?’
Gregor made a frustrated groan but Malcolm Black simply blinked and then said: ‘At the meeting hall.’
‘Then I will bid you goodnight, gentlemen,’ I said. ‘And see you in the morning.’
I made to push the door shut, but Gregor was too fast. He put his foot on the step. ‘You’ll come with us now.’
‘Where to?’
‘The jail.’
‘I am not yet found guilty.’
Malcolm put his riding crop to my cheek. ‘You will do as I say.’
I opened my mouth to argue and – swish – his crop whipped through the air and caught me across the face. Immediately my eyes watered with the sharp pain. I wanted to cry out but I would not give them the satisfaction of knowing I was hurt.
‘Very well,’ I said in a voice that shook more than I liked. ‘I will come with you now.’
Gregor climbed up on his horse and then he leaned down and roughly dragged me up on to the saddle in front of him too, yanking my arm in its socket. This time I did cry out, with surprise and fear and pain. Gregor smacked me on the top of my skull with an open palm, making my head spin. Finally, with all my fight gone, my face bleeding from Malcolm Black’s riding crop, and my vision blurred from the blow to my head, I slumped down onto the horse’s neck. I would accept my fate, I thought. But I would not go quietly.