Chapter 8 #2
A grin crossed Ailith’s lips. “Aye.”
Ailith covered her last stem with rich, loamy earth and sat back on her heels, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.
Three locations – Dunnottar, Glenbervie, and now north of Mowtie.
If they took root. She could be doing all of this for nothing, but Ailith had the sense that if she was doing something wrong, her dream-Eladon would have said something.
Wouldn’t she?
In truth, how would Ailith know?
Better to err on the side of caution and plant as many as possible. Then she could say she did everything in her power to keep these tiny plants alive.
They gathered their plants – Teagan had a few of the mushrooms left and wanted to see if they might grow on the shady, north side of her own house, which delighted Ailith – and headed back.
They neared the edge of the narrow clearing of Teagan’s cruck house when the sound of hoofbeats echoed in the air at the bend behind some trees.
Is William back already? Ailith glanced at the sun. It seemed rather early.
“Is that William, do ye think?” Ailith asked Teagan.
The Irishwoman didn’t respond. Her face tightened, and before Ailith could ask another question, she shoved Ailith as hard as she could off the overgrown path. Ailith, surprised by the woman’s attack, stumbled to her side into a bush. Teagan glared at her.
“Stay there,” she said in a loud whisper. “’Tis no’ William.”
Ailith’s chest sank to her stomach, and she crouched behind the full bush. Though the land around Teagan’s croft was not heavily wooded, pockets of trees and bushes clustered here and there, and right now, Ailith was grateful for the cover.
What was so dangerous as to have her hide?
“Halt, woman of Eire,” a demanding voice called out.
Ailith peeked through the leaves. An oak tree partly blocked her view, but from her vantage point, she could make out a cluster of men. Two were on horses, and the rest were walking. Maybe four or five total.
“Alistair Keith. What brings ye to my meager side of Mowtie?” Teagan announced in an overly loud voice with a flip of her curly orange hair.
For my benefit, Ailith realized. So I will know who is with her in case something happens. Ailith ignored the sound of her blood pounding in her chest and focused on Teagan.
“Ye have overstepped, O’Connor,” the man named Alistair barked out.
“More than once, my kin has come to me, accusing ye of pagan witchery. Now the herbalist says ye asked for an herb that only a witch might use. Thank the Lord God above that he did no’ give it to ye.
Who knows what manner of destruction ye might have wrought! ”
Ailith noticed that the men had slowly started to circle Teagan. How did she stand with confidence when obviously something dire was about to happen?
Mayhap that was what she meant when she said she was used to being on her own. Evidently, this type of encounter had occurred in the past.
“Unless the destruction ye are accusing me of is helping cure someone of their cough, ye best be leaving. I’ve done naught to ye or yours, and Callum knows this. Ye are no’ here at his request.”
The circle of men closed in tighter until Ailith could barely see Teagan – only tufts of her hair and kirtle peeking between the men. Ailith held her breath. What were they doing?
“Ye even hold the evidence of it in your hands,” Alistair continued. “The flowers and puddock-stools! Too many have accused ye of witchcraft to let it pass this time. The herbalist was the final straw.”
It was then that Ailith saw the plants still clutched in Teagan’s fist. Ailith had put hers in her sack.
Oh, feck me, Ailith thought. It was obvious where this encounter was going.
“The final straw?” Teagan asked, panic causing her voice to rise an octave. “What do ye mean –”
The men rushed her, followed by a scuffle as Ailith heard Teagan shouting. “Hey! What? Leave me alone!”
Once the scuffling had calmed, the men, Teagan included, made their way back down the road.
“Where are ye taking me?” Teagan shouted – again for Ailith’s benefit. Perhaps she wanted Ailith to follow or find William to help rescue her.
“Ye are to be tried as soon as we reach Stonehaven,” the man declared.
Ailith clutched at a branch. Everything inside her screamed to run out and help her new friend, while the slightly more rational part of her brain told her nothing good would come of that, and she couldn’t do anything for Teagan if she, too, was arrested, or whatever this was.
Witch.
A witch hunt.
Oh my god.
Is that what William worried about, too? That if Ailith said or did the wrong thing, she might be accused of being a witch?
It was hundreds of years yet until the infamous witch trials would occur across western civilization, but Ailith knew from both her studies and her tour research with her father that people, women in particular, had been accused of witchcraft since the understanding of gods in ancient times.
It was the catch-all by the slowly growing Christians for anything that smelled heretical, like the Vikings or ancient Celts, like the fairies and druids.
What did they do to witches in the tenth century? Not burn them, she didn’t think. That was a more modern witch trial outcome – Salem and Joan of Arc. The tenth century, while not executing witches, might as well have.
If Ailith recalled correctly, were Teagan to be found guilty of that or the more common heresy, she would be imprisoned, tortured, banished, or perchance killed if they thought her dangerous enough. But putting one to death was rare in this century.
If she was found guilty.
Ailith moved from the trees and started to follow them, keeping a fine distance and hiding from tree to tree, lest she be seen. Where was William? She could run for him and his aid, but he could be anywhere in the southwestern MacDougal lands. What if she didn’t find him in time?
So it came down to her.
Could a trial happen that fast? If the church wasn’t involved, only angry villagers, perhaps. In her mind’s eye, a film clip of villagers chasing Frankenstein’s monster played in a black-and-white reel.
She did not think they’d throw Teagan bound into a pond or a loch.
Those techniques were more church-driven and didn’t happen until the later Middle Ages and beyond, but the officials running this farce would take testimony against her.
And from what these men had said, they had more than enough to find her guilty.
They were angry and would find any reason to bring Teagan low.
As she followed them down the path, Ailith smiled to herself, a thin, knowing smile.
Ah, but it was beneficial to know history.
Guilt or innocence could also be determined another way if the accused had someone on their side to fight for them.
Literally fight.
In the early Middle Ages, trial by combat was a common way to decide one’s guilt or innocence in criminal, civil, and religious cases. It was simple enough. If the accused’s combatant won, the accused was innocent. If they lost: guilty.
And that combat did not have to be to the death. The winner would be whoever gained the upper hand and could kill the other.
Teagan might not know it, but Ailith wasn’t about to let her new friend be found guilty. Not when she could do something to stop it.
It was as both Master Park and William had told her.
Men always underestimated the fighting abilities of women.