Justric

The Witch Trials

Ebenezer let her go on, too weary to put any halt to her questions while also finding her concern charming. It had been a long afternoon and a longer evening, one with results that he should have expected but feared all the same. He summoned up a calm smile for his new bride as he did his best to explain.

"I took them to the body," he began carefully, "so they might see for themselves what was wrought. Even showed them where some strands of your hair were tied about the root as further evidence. Most of them were much inclined to believe our story at face value. Enoch had... few friends willing to speak up for him in his death, and so his sins in life have caught up with him to skew any possible claim to his innocence. Judge Mayhew, however... still demand an inquest and trial. A judge shall be brought up from one of the other towns to preside, although who is not known yet. The magistrate insists that this is all just formality, that I should have nothing to worry about and in time this will all be behind us. My father... seems less than sure of that. He's moving himself to his cousins' house, the Chandlers, until this has all blown over. In the meantime, while not in chains I am to consider myself under house arrest. It is upon my honor that I remain here unless otherwise summoned by the court until the matter is settled, save for church attendance, for if I attempt to flee then my guilt in this is as sure as a confession to murder."

"There was little mention of you in any of this," he reassured Mirabella, "and you are not bound by the same restrictions as I. Keep you to your silence and we should weather this storm well enough."

Raising his hand gently, he cupped her cheek in his palm to gaze at her with both attraction and... guilt? "I am sorry, you know. That I forced you into this. Only it's for the best for us both, you see. Once we're out of our current dilemma, at any rate. I wish I could have given you at least a proper wedding night, not one where we must fearfully await the dawn to see what the new day might bring us. Beautiful Mirebella.... Married as we are now, what is there for us to do?"

The Witch Trials

Ebenezer returned late and with a weary tread. Goody was full of questions, but knew the man well enough to know by his expression ( a look that mirrored his father's own in such times) to leave off for now. The old woman advised his wife to have gone abed and then left to tend to her own brood. After the dame had left, Ebenezer stop in the kitchen of his house and looked about as though seeing it for the first time. It had been such a... strange, unworldly day! And now?

Taking care to move without noise, he eased himself into his... their... bedroom and carefully settled himself upon the edge of the bed. The sight of Mirabella slumbering innocently stirred his heart somewhat, and he felt all the more guilt for forcing her into this over hasty marriage. He was using her to hide from the sins of his past and her outstanding physical charms were not without temptation either. Only why had he rushed her so into it?? She might have come to actually love him before their marriage was recorded, it was possible. He should have dragged it out, created the illusion that they had been courting for at least a few weeks first instead of their marriage being an overnight whirlwind that surprised all. Was it fear for himself that drove him to have the matter over and done with? Or had it been the knowledge that however rash he might be, Enoch was far the worse and the more brutal; a long lead up to the marriage, even if coerced, could have given the brute more time to interfere. It also would have given Mirabella more time to find a way out of it, he admitted with self-recrimination. Or had it been pity for Mirabella? All the same, even tempered by the tribulations that had sprouted so quickly up around their wedding, he found himself glad in the having of her as his wife.

With great care, Ebenezer reached out to lightly take one of her slender hands in his own, calling out to her in a lullaby voice. "Mirabella? Mirabella? Time to wake. There are... things we need to discuss."

The Orphan's Wedding

Feather answered quickly although from an unexpected direction: the stairs. She was already washed and dressed for the day, a simple blue country dress and white apron about her slender body. Bright eyes and smiling, it was clear the farm girl had been up for some time already and was ready to do whatever was asked of her. "Yes, mistress?"

Only at the sight of Kijani's distress, her mouth formed a small 'o' of surprise. "Why, Mistress Kijani! You look all done in! Was your sleep not restful? Mother told me that sometimes sleeping in a new place can be hard at first, but I think I slept better than I ever might have before! It was a little colder than sleeping with someone else in the bed, but it was nice not to have Granny's snoring in my ears all night long! I have breakfast laid out for you below if that's to your liking? Bacon, sausage, sour bread and apple butter, a nice thick porridge, hashed tubers fried in salted lard. And there's tea and juice for the drinking, an it please you. Master Vinegar was already up when I arose. He did some chores outside and then laid down again. I did some cleaning and other chores while you both rested." Feather paused in thought, her staccato way of speaking halting as a notion came to her. "Come to think of it, he looked rather done in as well. I hope you both aren't coming down ill. But if you are coming down ill, I know lots of remedies for almost anything thanks to my Granny."

The Highwayman Came Riding

Normally I do not overly worry about timeframes. Sometimes good writing comes when it comes, and of course there is always the harsh reality of that which we call real life to be dealt with. Only...

You last post. I had trouble formulating a response to it. I kept thinking a number of different ways I might respond or how I could take the story in this direction or that... Only your post was so completely and utterly amazing. You made me envious as a fellow writer! I thought it was so beautifully written that I wrestled with how I could match it! I know I had originally envisioned the Captain's wife only as a side character to the bizarre love triangle of Officer-Bess-Highwayman, but you have breathed such life into her as to make me blush! The expression of her thoughts and her maturing as she realizes the extent of her husband's debilitations... I found it so artistically done that I find myself in anticipation of her next appearance in our story! And whatever else might happen in our tale, I would hope that Diana might find a happy ending.

The Highwayman Came Riding

"Damn, damn, DAMN!" It was a blasphemous mantra, uttered again and again under muttered breath as he wound his way between the trees and carefully avoided crashing through the underbrush. Pursuit could not be far behind, he knew. He had botched the job to a degree he could not have imagined, and now flight was his only choice. When word of the opportunity had reached his ears, he had quietly smiled to himself: a coach, traveling through the night and it belonging to a wealthy patron of the arts? How could he resist such a temptation? Then again, how could he have known that the coach had an escort that had fallen behind?! What sort of guards trailed at a distance?! The conveyance halted, coachman and passengers surrendering with bitter grumbles and recriminations, jewelry and coin jingling in the black velvet bag... and then there came two riders up and over the hill behind them, each at full charge! And there he was, on foot, with his own mount secured deep within the wood. The horse was still fairly young and untrained, and he had feared its nervousness would have given him away too early. The two bodyguards would have easily skewered him where he stood, but never fear! He raised his one flintlock to shoot down the first of them... only to have the bloody thing misfire! The odds were suddenly not in his favor as he saw the glint of setting moonlight upon their upraised sabers, the cavalrymen quickly closing the gap when, of all the be damnable things, the coachman pulls forth a blunderbuss pistol, a dragon, and brings it to bear! The highwayman had little choice but to draw the second of his two pistols and shoot the fellow directly. The body crumpling from the driver's seat, he then turned to flee. If he hadn't had to waste his second shot, he might still have taken out one of the escort and had a chance. Too much had gone wrong too quickly, and flight was the optimal option.

So it was into the gloom of the false dawn he ran, cloak snapping behind him as he dove into the hedge brush and through the forest... to then realize that his bag of plunder was still in the hands of the last victim! All of that work, all of that planning! And what had he to show for it? Almost nothing. It hadn't been a total loss, granted, the simple gold ring he had personally snatched off the hand of one of the men rested snuggly in his vest pocket; a plain band of yellow with no distinct markings? Difficult to identify and easy to pawn. Still... it had hardly been the heist envisioned over his ale cup.

He pulled the velvet cloak of claret closer around himself as he made his way, cocked hat pulled low over his head and head bent to help hide the lace at his throat. He must to horse before the sun rose! For as dramatic and fine as his coat and deerskin breeches may have been, accented by the intricate guard of his rapier, they were not the best attire in which to hide in the green wood. The highwayman could only hope his lithe figure, slender if strong, would make it easier to hide within the darkness thickened by trees.

It was then he heard the singing, the splashing, the high and light laughter of a young woman. Beneath the eye mask of black leather, his lips twitched into a frown as he softly drew closer. The shadows of the great trees hid him well as he crept further and further closer until he might hear the trickle of the stream as well, and then to espy the woman, the sight of whom brought him up short in astonishment. What was this?? Alone, she lay and roll in the moss giggling and laughing. Was she a mad woman? What strange leisure was this? Had she not been so beautiful, the faint dawn illuminating her shape and nature, the scene may not have come across as so surreal to him. [i]She is beautiful, isn't she?[/] he distantly thought, and the sight of her distracted his mind from thoughts of pursuit. He found a fae attraction in simply watching her at her play, admiring not only her physical charms but the very lightness of spirit that exuded from the dark haired lass. It was a demonstration that was both wonderfully innocent and wickedly decadent at the same time...

A branch distantly snapping behind him broke his reverie, causing him to glance over his shoulder. Had he heard voices? Were they so bold as to chase this long after him into the darkness? If they had heard the girl's merriment and were following the sound of it as well...

It happened without planning or forethought. Panic, cold cunning, desire to remain at large combined with fascination spurred him onward. His mask he tucked deeply into his waistcoats, his tri-corn pulled further down over his eyes to help hide his youthful face. And then he was at the steam's bank, falling next to her and wrapping a kid-gloved hand about her mouth and another about her waist from behind. The startled movement of her rump against him as he pulled her close was pleasantly distracting, only he had no time for such distractions at the moment. He hissed into her little ear. "Forgive the boldness, fair one," he jibed in a pleasant tenor, "but seeing as how you have drawn my hunters close to me, I think it only fair that you help me put them off my scent! I'll not harm you or take unfair advantage, so long as you play your part in this. Those who hound me will not think to look for me in the arms of a lover. Help me to fool them, and I shall vouchsafe your maidenhead and reward you greatly as well." Then, in far more sincere tones he added, "I will treat you fairly, maiden."

The snapping of branches was closer now...

The Highwayman Came Riding

I apologize for the delay. It has been a "fun". I'm rather glad you didn't pack Bess back off to the kitchen yet, actually! It gives me a chance to introduce our Highwayman!

With luck, I should have a post up by later tonight.

The Orphan's Wedding

If it isn't there? Well, then, I might just you a story to bring a smile to your face! (grins)

The Orphan's Wedding

*plops down next to you, back against the tree and legs straight out with ankles crossed.*

Sorry to hear about your mother, although I'm glad to hear that she's better now. As for the writing, don't worry about it. You have had other things to deal with, and the last thing you need is a writing partner bothering you all the time. Post when you can. A few days, a week, once a month... You are a talented writer, I will think no less of you for taking what time as you need. All I ask? Just that we stay in touch as fellow writers regardless of how our current story is progressing.

The Bonny Black Hare

That is quite alright. Truth be told, I've been falling behind a bit myself this week, so you are not alone!

The Witch Trials

<<Time Lapse>>

Ebenezer was glad she understood his need to see the magistrate immediately. The truth, or at least a version of it, had best be outed for all to hear and see if they had any hope of remaining free and alive. The colony laws were fair in judgement but harsh in sentencing, and Ebenezer had no desire to see himself stretched at the end of a rope with his heels kicking before the crowd. He'd seen too many hangings and had no desire to be a part of one ever again! But it was Mirabella's tenderness that caught him off guard at that moment, not the fear of the noose. The way she begged him to return as soon as allowed, the tightening of her hand upon his, the look in those all too blue eyes... The preacher's son felt his heart skip a beat. Was she falling in love with him? Or was this merely a reaction to the fact that he had been her savior, the man who blackmailed her into marriage also being the one to come to her rescue against a far more heinous crime? Worse... was he falling in love with her? He shunted that aside for the moment as he kissed her forehead once more and then reluctantly departed.

Goody was home, thankfully. A stout, roly-poly woman of some sixty years with no living husband and three daughters, she was a no nonsense soul that all the same would do anything for a friend. Or in this case, a deceased friend's family. While displeased to have her baking interrupted at Ebenezer's sudden arrival, the hastily imparted information that Tace Stone's son had just gotten married that morning and his wife had been attacked before luncheon that same day calmed her ire. She took charge, a natural element for her actually. With daughters directed to carry on the baking, the old woman bustled quickly out the door to the Stones' house to see what aide she might render. Ebenezer's somber thanks followed her out the door, himself a moment after to head towards the courthouse.

Even before he burst in, he could hear men talking inside the courthouse regarding the matters of the day. His arrival drew stares of clerks and townsfolk all at their business, not only for the manner in which he had slammed open the doors but in how he huffed from exertion, his face red from running. Gulping a large breathe, he called out, "Magistrate! Magistrate Willford!"

So presumptuously summoned out of his office, the beefy man appeared with a frown to stare at the young man as he gasped for air. Ebenezer was glad to see his father, Reverend Stone, follow Willford out of the room and into the hall. Less fortuitous was the appearance of Judge Mayhew. Ebenezer had hoped to lay the matter before everyone... except the dead man's father. This was not going to be pretty, only there was no way around it.

"Magistrate Willford," he said in a slightly calmer voice. "God's mercy. Enoch Mayhew is dead." There was a sudden uproar of questions, questions, questions from all around him, startled declarations and demands for clarification from every man within ear shot as they converged upon him in concern and outrage; only the three old men held both ground and tongue until the matter was laid out before them. If only all three: magistrate, judge and preacher.... if only all three did not look so grim. Ebenezer did his best to speak above the crowd until they began to settle. "After my newly wedded wife and I left her, I escorted her back to my father's house and bid her bar the door until either I or my father returned. I went then to see Goodman Kuyper to settle some matters of account, a debt paid to him. Upon my return, I found the door into the house had been forced! Mirabella was missing! Fearing savages, I took up a wheel lock pistol and gave chase in the most likely direction: the woods."

He raised his head to stare Judge Mayhew in the eyes. Ebenezer had no quarrel with the Judge, but given the day's events and Mirabella's past beatings, he felt there should at least be some shame in the old man's heart for his son's character. "Some ways in I found Enoch Stone and my wife. He had abducted her and tied her hair to a root branch so as to keep her pinned, her clothes askew and him poised above her. I arrived in time to stop him before the act could be committed, only he charged at me with breeches half down. So murderous was his intent, that I shot him dead in protection of myself and my wife, Mirabella."

The courthouse had become deathly quiet as each man thought on what they had just heard. Ebenezer knew he had to keep going, that he had to hammer in his version of what had happened before any of them might recover from their shock. "Enoch Mayhew abducted my wife against her will for his own carnal pleasure, attacked her and attempted to attack me, leaving me no choice but to shoot him dead. And may God have mercy on my soul for it."