I couldn’t look at Ma. I’d gasped when I first saw her on the box. She looked so tiny standing up there. Her dress was grimy, her hair was a tangled mess, and her face was so pale she looked like a spirit. Her eyes were sunk deep in their sockets, with dark shadows underneath. I couldn’t believe she’d only been with Malcolm Black for one night. What cruelty must he be capable of? I shuddered to think.
With Davey and Christy behind me, I pushed my way through the silent crowd, as Malcolm Black read out the charges against my mother.
‘Who do you think you are, intruding on this trial?’ he said to me, turning his cold stare on me. I did not let myself flinch away from him but instead I pulled my shoulders back and looked him in the eye.
‘I am Alice Seton,’ I said. ‘And I have something to say.’
I felt a little hand in mine and glanced down to see Christy Kincaid gripping my fingers.
He nudged me and I took the book he’d given me out from under my cloak.
‘You may speak,’ Malcolm Black said.
‘Thank you,’ I said. I glanced at Christy and he nodded reassuringly.
‘Alice?’ Ma’s voice was croaky. ‘Do not speak, Alice.’
Behind me I felt Davey’s hand on my back. It was warm and fatherly and I felt stronger knowing he was there with me. He and Christy. I took a deep breath.
‘My mother – Widow Seton – is a good woman. She is no witch.’
I felt everyone in the room take a gasp of air as I spoke. But undeterred, I went on. ‘These accusations are false. And they have been made by Gregor Kincaid because he is greedy.’
Gregor’s face was red with rage, while Malcolm’s was white. His anger was icy cold.
‘You are an insolent, ill-mannered girl,’ he said. He sounded quite pleased about it. ‘May I remind you that speaking out in favour of a witch can be seen as a confession of witchcraft?’
I looked up at Malcolm. ‘I understand that,’ I said. ‘And yet, here I am, speaking out in favour of Widow Seton.’
‘You will burn,’ Malcolm said.
There was a murmur of fear through the crowd. I raised my voice so I would be heard and brandished Christy’s book.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I will not burn. Because I have here a report of a witch-hunt in East Gullane, just last year, where the townspeople all spoke out for the accused. All of them.’
I felt Malcolm’s eyes boring into me and tried not to let his hatred make me lose my resolve. ‘Actually, in that case, it wasn’t the woman who burned, it was someone else. Now where did I read it?’ I ran my finger down the page and pretended to look for the name. ‘Ah yes,’ I said in triumph. ‘Here it is.’ I looked up at Malcolm and gave him a wide smile. ‘It was the witch finder who burned.’
Beside me, Christy punched the air. ‘Yes!’ he shouted. ‘The witch finder.’
‘Christy Kincaid, that is enough from you.’ Gregor stood up from his chair at the front of the hall. ‘You foolish boy.’ He turned to Malcolm. ‘He has been ill, Mr Black, and Widow Seton treated him.’
I could see Gregor was scared Malcolm would turn his wrath on his nephew. But I didn’t care. I knew we were right.
‘Widow Seton must have addled his brain with her potions,’ Gregor added, quite desperately.
‘No.’ This time Davey spoke up. ‘On the contrary, Widow Seton gave Christy back his health and allowed him to read the – rather dry, in my opinion – court reports he so enjoys.’ He ruffled his son’s hair. ‘I think he will be a man of the law one day, don’t you, Gregor?’
Malcolm Black was ignoring the Kincaid brothers hissing and spitting at one another like fighting cats and, instead, focused on me. He gave me a thin-lipped smile. ‘I have not heard the details of this case,’ he said. ‘Which is strange.’
‘Perhaps you are not as well connected as you believe?’ Davey said. ‘I have heard it talked about from several different sources.’
Malcolm nodded, and I crossed my fingers and hoped that his pride would not allow him to admit he had heard nothing whatsoever of this witch-hunt that I had dreamt up when I was hidden beneath the goat shed. It was rooted in truth, of course. There had been cases of townsfolk standing against witch finders; I’d read the reports in Christy’s book. But those cases hadn’t happened recently and they hadn’t happened here. I just hoped Malcolm was as self-aggrandising as I suspected. There was a pause and then he tapped his chin with his finger.
‘East Gullane, you say?’
‘That’s right,’ Christy put in eagerly. I rested my hand on his shoulder. This was my fight, not his.
‘And every townsperson spoke up for the accused?’
‘That’s right.’ This time it was me who agreed.
‘Everyone?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, everyone.’
‘And that has not happened here.’
I grinned. ‘Not yet.’
With a wink at Christy, I stepped to one side and behind me was Mackenzie from the harbour, flanked by the other fishermen.
‘I am Mackenzie White and I speak out for Widow Seton,’ Mackenzie said. ‘I speak against Gregor Kincaid.’
One by one the fishermen all filed to the front of the room, their broad shoulders nudging each other as they said their names and added their support for Ma. With each man that spoke, Ma’s back got straighter. I knew most of them, but there were others whose names weren’t known to me. A man with orange hair spoke out, saying Ma had delivered his baby safely when his wife was too weak to carry on. And there was Lachlan Murdoch, adding his voice to the group. I flushed as I saw him walk by me, remembering the last time I’d seen him. He tipped his hat to me, looking sheepish.
And then, behind the fishermen, came the women. Ebba White spoke, saying Ma had saved her little girl and called to Ma as she came, saying: ‘She’s grown so much in just these last few weeks, Honor. Thanks to you.’
Mary, the midwife who called on Ma when she had a difficult delivery, was there, talking of the good Ma had done.
Malcolm stood silently by, listening, but Gregor was getting angry and went to grab Mary’s arm to stop her. Immediately, Davey was there, holding him back.
‘Let them talk,’ he said roughly. Gregor struggled but though he was taller than his brother, Davey was stronger and fitter. ‘You are only laird because they allow you to be. It would do you good to remember that.’
There were servants from the big house, farmers and their wives, shopkeepers, the innkeeper. And the minister, hunched over with fear and shaking as he spoke, saying he’d welcomed Ma into the kirk every week since he’d been minister and had seen no evidence of – his voice trembled – devil worship.
Ma was standing straight upright now, stiff-backed. Even her eyes looked more full of life. Less sunken.
It was Christy’s turn. He spoke up, clearly and confidently, telling the room how Ma had saved his life when he was sick. ‘And my grandmother,’ he added. ‘She saved her too.’
‘And in saving Christy, she saved me,’ Davey added. ‘This assize is a disgrace and it must be ended.’
Gregor grimaced at his brother, but then his expression lightened and he spoke into Malcolm’s ear. Malcolm listened, and then spoke once more.
‘It must be every townsperson,’ Malcolm said. ‘Every person.’ He glowered at me. ‘Is that what it says in your book?’
‘It is,’ I said, hugging the book to my chest like a shield.
‘This is not everyone,’ Gregor said. His voice was strong and tinged with triumph. ‘This is not every person.’
With a lurch of horror, I realized he was right.
We had spent most of the early morning, hurrying round town, telling them what was happening, and urging them to do right by Ma. I’d been scared the people would be too frightened but Christy had grinned at me.
‘Magnus, my tutor, said people follow the crowd.’
I’d shaken my head. ‘But we don’t have a crowd.’
He’d tapped the cover of the book. ‘So we make one,’ he said. ‘If we pretend it’s happened before, people will be more likely to speak out.’
I’d not been convinced, but we went from house to house, and boat to boat, and sure enough, it had worked.
Except we hadn’t thought about the people right under our noses. The people who were missing.
Because old Mrs Kincaid wasn’t there. And nor was Kyla.
I felt my optimism desert me. ‘Ma,’ I said. I went to the box where my mother stood and reached out to take her hands. Gregor tried to stop me but I ducked away from him.
With tears falling down my cheeks, I told Ma I was sorry, that I’d tried my best. And then I looked up at her and to my astonishment, she was smiling. Because there, walking into the meeting hall was Kyla, with old Mrs Kincaid on her arm.
‘Mother, no,’ Gregor said. ‘You are old and frail and you should not be out in this weather.’
‘Oh shush,’ she said. ‘I heard Widow Seton was in trouble and I wanted to help. She saved my life you know.’
Kyla glared at me, and then glared at Ma. I looked back at her. Would she stand by me now, when I needed her most?
I felt my chest tighten with fear. Everything rested on this one woman. The woman I’d always thought to be my friend. Was she going to betray me?
Slowly, Kyla walked towards me. Her eyes were fixed on mine and she didn’t so much as glance towards Malcolm Black.
She came close to me, so we were almost touching. I kept my gaze steady and concentrated on my breathing. And then, to my surprise, Kyla gave a tiny smile and pushed something into my hand. She turned to Malcolm Black.
‘Widow Seton has been nothing but good to me,’ she said clearly. ‘And I treated her badly and I’m sorry.’ She looked back at me. ‘Sorry,’ she said again.
I smiled at her, feeling the round edges of the witch bottle she’d given me in my fingers.
‘I believe,’ Davey said, ‘that’s everyone.’
‘Not quite,’ said Gregor. ‘I am a person of this town, am I not?’
‘Not anymore,’ said Mackenzie White. ‘You stood against one of us for your own ends. I think we can all agree that means you no longer belong here.’ He turned to the fishermen. ‘Isn’t that right, lads?’
They all agreed, loudly and vigorously.
Gregor was spluttering and muttering, knowing he was beaten. Davey went to Ma and helped her down from the box and she leaned against him, still holding my hand.
‘This is an outrage,’ Gregor hissed.
‘No, brother. You are the outrage.’ Davey looked taller and more confident than I’d ever seen him.
Gregor’s face was twisted in anger. ‘You owe me, Davey. I helped you when you needed it.’
‘You did,’ Davey said simply. ‘And I am grateful. But one good deed doesn’t mean you can do as you please forever more. You were wrong, Gregor. Surely you understand that?’
Gregor glanced over to where the fishermen were standing, shoulder to shoulder like a barricade, and clearly thought better than to argue. I saw the fight drain from him. He knew he was beaten.
Davey gave me the ghost of a smile and then turned to his brother once more. ‘You need to apologize to Widow Seton.’
‘What?’ Gregor’s voice was gruff.
‘Apologize.’
The fishermen were a little closer now, moving towards Gregor in a way that managed to appear both protective of my mother, and threatening towards him.
Gregor swallowed. ‘Widow Seton,’ he said, avoiding my mother’s eye. ‘Would you accept my apology? I think things got a little …’ He looked round at the fishermen and the other townspeople crowding the hall. ‘A little out of hand.’
‘Will you dredge the harbour?’ Ma said.
‘I still think it could be a successful idea …’ I couldn’t believe he had the cheek to continue to argue his case. My mother looked shocked and the men came nearer, like the tide creeping up the beach. Gregor swallowed again. ‘I will not dredge the harbour.’
‘Then I accept your apology.’