Page 14 of Damnation (Gallows Hill)

Chapter Eleven

Sarah

A fortnight came and went, but Thomas did not.

On the first day of his expected arrival, I was hopeful and ready.

By the second day, I was concerned something happened to him.

By the third, I was smart enough to understand things clearly.

He wasn’t coming for me. Fear, ignorance, or maybe something in between, has warped his mind, and he has abandoned me, perhaps even forgotten.

The truth of that hurts more than any blow from William’s hand ever could.

More have been arrested and brought here since mine and Osborne’s arrival, and I fear ‘tis only the beginning. When the sound of the door opening echoes throughout this morbid place, I don’t pay too much mind to it.

Until I hear a familiar cry. Leaping to my feet, I press myself against the bars as I see Dorothy in shackles, crying as she is being carried down the hall.

“Dorothy! Dorothy!”

The jailer is carrying her to another cell as I shout for him.

“Please! Please, allow her into here. ‘Tis my child!”

He looks back at me with a sneer, ready to refuse me until his eyes meet my own. I am unsure of what Thomas said to him, but whatever he did, it has afforded me better treatment from the young jailer than most. I suppose I have something to thank him for…only this, though.

Turning, he approaches my cell, opening the door and tossing her inside. I catch her easily, wrapping my arms around her as she sobs into my neck.

“Mama! Is that you?”

“Yes, baby. ‘Tis me. Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head as her beautiful eyes come to mine.

“I missed you, Mama.”

Clutching her tighter to me, I rock us slowly.

“I missed you too. We’re together now. All is well.”

She sniffs hard before resting her hand upon my stomach.

“I missed the baby too.”

Pain runs through my chest, though I do not allow it to show. Nodding my head, she curls up into my lap as we sit there for many moments.

“Mr. Putnam was right.”

I frown as I look down at her.

“About what?”

“When they took you, he promised everything would be as it should. That he would take care of us.”

“Does it look like he has done such, Dorothy? We are in jail. I can only imagine you are here for the same as I. We are in danger, sweetheart.”

She shrugs. “But I am with you, Mama. As it should be.”

Something about my sweet girl’s words warms me, so.

Not enough to thaw to Putnam. Regardless of the words he gave her, I know now he never meant them.

Never intended to keep true to his word.

Even if he did, he’s a coward, and we are better off without him.

At least, that is what I try to tell myself. It helps temper the sting of betrayal.

I’m unsure of the day, what does it matter, honestly?

The rations are abysmal, apart from my own, which I suspect is due to Thomas.

Any extras I receive go to Dorothy, and thankfully, she has kept weight well as with her spirit.

We are playing a game, clapping our hands together, when Joseph Hutchinson and Phillip Lewis appear before us.

Carefully, I tuck Dorothy behind me, concerned they have come for her as the jailer opens the door.

Hutchinson reaches down for me, and I go easily, though I lose my footing for a moment with my growing belly.

Oh, how my body hurts from days of sleeping on this hard dirt floor.

“Stand up,” he snaps before the jailer shuts the door behind us.

“Mama!” Dorothy calls out in a panic.

“‘Tis alright, sweetheart. Come up with another game. I will return shortly.”

Lewis scoffs under his breath as they escort me outside.

“Do not count upon it.”

His words send a chill through me as we approach the two horses. I expect them to throw me upon one as they did in town, but instead, they latch a chain to my shackles as they both mount their horses. I look up at Hutchinson in confusion as he jerks on the chain.

“Make haste, witch! We haven’t all day.”

They expect me to walk? Both ways? ‘Tis ten miles each, at the least, and my feet are but bare.

I resist only for a moment before the chain forces me to comply or risk being dragged.

I wince as we cross a few twigs and sharp bushes; each step forces my feet to ache and burn until eventually, I do not feel them at all.

I never thought I’d feel relief returning to Salem.

Though I imagine I have not been away for longer than a month, with the spring in full bloom, it feels like such a long time ago that I was last here.

My feet barely stop by themselves as we halt outside the courthouse.

I half expected us to return to Ingersoll’s once more.

Though it seems I am being taken in for trial or questioning, I ought not be too sure.

Perhaps ‘tis in my favor that it is being done in a formal setting.

Perhaps justice will prevail, and the truth shall be revealed.

Hutchinson yanks on the chain attached to my shackles as he pulls me forward, towards the courthouse.

As soon as Lewis opens the large wooden doors, I’m greeted with a musty odor that is foul to the senses.

My eyes move around the room to see most of the village gathered, many casting scornful looks my way, as I count nine men sitting at the front of the room, all staring at me with watchful eyes.

I recognize Corwin and Hathorne, but the rest are strangers to me.

As I am escorted to the front, I am unable to miss his gaze on me.

As if I can feel it rather than see it. Turning my head, I lock eyes with Thomas.

The instant I do, he drops his head, as if he doesn’t wish to glance my way.

I feel my heart crack inside my chest while his wife rests her hand onto his, sneering at me in disgust. Hurt and anger mix inside me as I face forward.

“Let the record show that I, William Stroughton, Chief Justice of the Court of Oyer and Terminer, hereby appointed by Governor Phips, declare the commencement of this trial against one Sarah Good,” the man in the middle speaks.

“Mrs. Good, how do you plead?” Corwin asks.

“Plead?” I question.

“Art thou guilty or nay?” an older gentleman to the left, who looks particularly unpleasant, snaps.

I shake my head. “Nay!”

“So you are denying that you are indeed not a witch? Thou did not afflict a total of three young girls? That you have not been poisoning the town of Salem through various tonics and tinctures?”

Three? I thought it was just Abigail and Betty that accused me of so? There are more? What for? What have I done to deserve such?

“Nay!” I say with a shake of my head. “I am not what you speak. I have never afflicted nor poisoned a soul in my life.”

“LIAR!” Reverend Parris hisses from behind me.

I turn to look at him, only to find Reverend Noyes attempting to settle him, though he does so while delivering me a chilling glare in return.

“Let her spew her lies, shall deliver her a sooner hanging,” Hathorne says with a shrug.

“So be it,” the Chief Justice speaks.

For the next several hours, I am asked countless questions, all of which I answer truthfully to. I do not have a love for the Devil. I do not work for him. I love God, and I have never hurt another. All answers they do not believe and grow angrier with each word.

Finally, they decide to end the trial for the day, rescheduling me to return at a later date, as they must move to the next, I suppose.

Turning to move out of the courthouse, my eyes meet Thomas’s, and he does not look away this time.

I do. He is not who I thought he was, not the man he claims to be.

He is weak, craven, and I do not wish to waste another minute upon him.

After being led to the horses, Hutchinson mounts his and begins to walk with me as another man on his horse comes riding alongside us.

“Good day, gentlemen. I was sent to journey towards Ipswich and fetch Osborne for questioning,” Thomas says.

“We have more than enough capability, Putnam,” Lewis scoffs.

“I have no doubt of that, but I shall follow all the same,” he says before looking down at me.

“Good, get up onto the horse.”

“Her feet work just as well,” Hutchinson argues.

Thomas narrows his eyes at him as he speaks.

“Do we share an issue, Joseph? Is it time already for myself to collect upon the loan I had lent you?”

He squirms in the seat of his saddle as he looks at Thomas, shaking his head.

“No. My apologies. Do with the witch as you please,” he says, tossing the chain to Thomas.

He winds it into his arms before extending a free one to me. I stare as if ‘tis a snake ready to attack. His patience thins as he rolls his eyes and snaps.

“Now!”

I startle at the harshness of his words before mounting the horse and swinging my leg over.

It takes some balance and adjustment before I am seated in front of Thomas due to my growing belly.

He doesn’t waste a moment to move his mouth close to my ear, whispering words only meant for us two as the others continue on their way.

“I’m so sorry.”

I do not acknowledge his words, instead focusing on the road before me.

“Sarah, please,” he whispers again.

Still, I do not turn.

“I understand you are angry with me. I am angry with myself. I…have no excuses. I only wish this to be over and everything to go back as it was.”

“Before you knew the truth?” I spit towards him.

He furrows his brows. “I thought you have spoken you are not a witch.”

“I am not. Not by your definition, or any other. Though if you want to depict me as such, then I may as well be in your eyes.”

“Sarah,” he whispers pleadingly. “I’m frightened for you, the both of you,” he says, reaching around to touch my belly.

“We will face whatever the court decides, without you by my side. You made sure of that.”

He’s quiet for several moments before he continues.

“The town is in full hysteria. Dozens of people are being accused by the minute. The court appointed cannot keep up. I fear they will begin hangings soon.”

“And that bothers you so?” I sneer.

He forces my face to look upon his, Thomas’s hand gripping my cheeks with tight force.

“Watching you hang at the end of a rope plagues my nightmares. I’d rather hang myself than witness such a sight.”

Fear runs through me at his words, mainly because I know them to be true.

I am not a dull woman. I know the court would never rule me innocent, no matter how hard I plead, no matter what evidence I provide.

Their minds are decided. I am living on borrowed time.

I’ll be damned if I allow them to win, allow them to take my life for their evil plot.

Before I fully know what I am doing, I grip the knife Thomas often keeps at his side as I jump off the horse.

I am able to steady myself with my hands before running through the meadow to the left.

I hear Thomas call for me as the others begin shooting their guns.

Still, I run. I run until I come upon a cliff, nowhere to go but down.

“Sarah!” Thomas shouts as he comes running through the bushes, Hutchinson and Lewis on his tail, both weapons drawn.

“Get down!” Lewis shouts.

I turn to face them as I take a step back and then another until my heels feel the ground come to an end.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Thomas shouts, holding out a hand as if that will stop me.

“Come no closer!” I shout as I lift the knife to my throat.

“Do as she says,” Thomas snarls.

Surprisingly, Hutchinson and Lewis do as he such as they watch me.

“What are you doing?” Thomas asks, holding out his hands as if he means no harm.

I do not realize I am crying until I taste the salty taste of my tears.

“The outcome shall be the same, at least this way I shall be a master of my own fate. I will not fall prey to the sick games of these trials.”

“You know not the outcome of your trial, nor the others. Do not make haste decisions for which you can not undo,” Thomas says, taking another step and another towards me.

“Whether my blood be spilled on this cliff or my neck snapped at Gallows Hill, it shall make no difference. Everyone wishes for my death; they wish to bask in it. I shall not give them such satisfaction,” I say as I dig the knife into my neck deeper.

“Please, please,” Thomas says softly, slowly coming closer. “Think of Dorothy, think of the child that grows in your belly by the day. You want them to live, do you not?”

“Live only for their mother to die?” I ask with a menacing laugh.

“Do not make assumptions. The innocent shall not be slain. If you are as you speak, everything shall be right, shall it not?”

“Aye, let her be, Putnam. If she wants to rid herself, saves us rope!” Hutchinson snarls.

“Silence!” he snaps, turning to face the men for half a second before softening his face to me once more.

“Please, the father of your unborn would never recover from the loss of you two, I can assure it.”

I laugh bitterly at his choice of words, so careful not to allow his true affections show.

“Trust in me, the father does not care for either of us. He has made that known.”

I close my eyes, shaking my head up to the sky as I ready myself to slit my throat when I feel my arm snatched away from my neck.

Thomas grapples for the knife before twisting my arm in an unnatural way.

A scream rips from my chest as my hand releases the knife.

It thunks to the ground hollowly as I begin to weep.

Despite our audience, Thomas whispers reassurances into my ear as his hand rubs my back soothingly.

“It will be alright. Allow me to help you onto the horse. Let us get you back to Dorothy, yes?”

I sniff and nod, another cry escaping me as Thomas lifts me into his arms and carries me back to the horses.

“Should have let her rid herself,” Hutchinson says as Lewis nods his agreement.

Thomas ignores them, setting me upon the horse before climbing up himself.

From there, we ride the rest of the way in silence.

My tears have long dried, but the pain inside me never fades.

Not when we arrive, nor when Thomas’s hand leaves mine, and certainly not when he gives me one last look of longing before shutting the iron barred door, leaving the jail with Sarah Osborne in his custody.