Rushes of angry foreign words as the priest keeps glancing back at me and Jolene before turning his head back to the man who came to the door.
“Jessabel, I don’t like this.” Jolene called to me from the window.
I went across the room to her side, “What’s going on?” I looked out and had to grab the edge of a table to steady myself. “Shit. That’s a lynch mob.” My worst fear has come true.
“Jessa, it gets worse. Look who is leading it.” Jolene pointed to two figures on a brown and white horse. They turned just right so we could see the woman’s face, “Coira.”
“Double shit. I think she is still ticked about the other night and the marriage.” I turned to the priest, fell to my knees and begged for our lives. “Father, please grant us sanctuary. Please. I promise we are not what they think we are.”
He glared back at us, “I know exactly who you are, Witches! I carry the proof!” He held up the battered and stained diary he was just reading to us allowed. “You will get a trial by water, may God have mercy on your souls.”
The gruff man who knocked and a companion from the angry mob rushed forward with lengths of rope. They tied us up and dragged us outside. Jolene’s screams ring in my ears as we are thrown over horses, precariously balancing like teeter-totters, forced to hope we didn’t fall as the riders sped off at a full gallop. The crowd of people jeering and laughing all the way to the pond.