The Condemned (Echoes from the Past Book 6)

by Shapiro, Irina

  “I’ve seen him in Jamestown.” Mary’s voice sounded flat, disinterested. She didn’t want anyone to think Walker had meant something to her. It was none of their business.

  “Master Forrester, if you have no objection, Dr. Paulson will examine your wife,” Marshal Craddock said. “We must be certain that she was indeed attacked, as she claims. If this Indian slaughtered three men with no provocation, there will be retribution.”

  Mary stared at the marshal, unable to believe what she was hearing. Not only did the men question her claim of being attacked on the road, they believed Walker had ambushed the men as they walked and had killed them savagely without any reason.

  “Now see here, Craddock. Those men had sacks filled with corn and grain. They’d been thieving, which is a crime punishable by death,” Hunt interjected.

  “And we would have dealt with them in our own fashion. If this Indian killed our men, the crime will not go unpunished. Master Forrester?” The marshal turned to John, his tone indicating that asking John for his permission to examine his wife was a mere courtesy. John would be a fool to refuse.

  “I have no objection,” John replied. No one had asked Mary if she objected to an examination. No one cared that she’d been attacked, frightened out of her wits, and forced to watch the man she loved butchered. Mary folded her hands in her lap and bowed her head in abject misery.

  “Gentlemen, if you’d all step outside,” Dr. Paulson suggested as he took a step toward Mary. Marshal Craddock opened his mouth to protest, but Dr. Paulson held up his hand to forestall him. “I will examine Mistress Forrester most carefully and report back to you in a few minutes. Now, please, step outside, Marshal.”

  He waited until the men left, then turned to Mary. “Will you please lie down for me, Mary? I won’t hurt you. You have my word.”

  Mary nodded and reclined on the bed, lying as still as an effigy while Dr. Paulson examined her. He was gentle and kind, and his sympathy nearly undid her. She bit her lip hard, so as not to howl with grief.

  The men trooped back in after the doctor completed his examination. “It’s as she says. Mistress Forrester has bruises on her wrists and thighs. Her cheek is swollen where she was struck, and one of her teeth is loose. The blood on her bodice corroborates her story of the man being struck with a tomahawk while he was atop her.”

  “There’s no proof she was assaulted by an Englishman,” Marshal Craddock argued. “She might have just as easily been attacked by the Indian. For all we know, the men came to her aid, instead of the other way around.”

  “That’s not consistent with the wounds inflicted on the men,” the doctor pointed out. “If the Indian had Mistress Forrester pinned down, he could hardly loose an arrow or split someone’s skull. Besides, the handle was pointed away from the face. The tomahawk had been thrown from behind.”

  “There you have it, Craddock,” the secretary chimed in. “It’s as she says. There’s no call for retaliation.”

  “And why did this Indian feel the need to come to your aid?” Marshal Craddock asked. “Why should this savage care if you were attacked?”

  Mary slowly raised her head and looked up at Marshal Craddock. Hatred for this belligerent and ignorant man pulsed through her veins. “He came to my aid because he was a man of honor.”

  “That’s preposterous!” the marshal exclaimed. “The Indians have no honor. He saw an opportunity to give in to his savagery and availed himself of it.”

  “Secretary, may I have a word outside?” Travesty asked, surprising everyone into silence. She’d been sent up to her loft while the men questioned Mary, but she’d come back down unnoticed.

  “If you have something to say, say it, woman,” Marshal Craddock barked.

  “Secretary?” Travesty continued, as if Craddock hadn’t spoken.

  “Very well.”

  While Secretary Hunt spoke to Travesty outside, Craddock’s men helped themselves to ale. They were restless, their blood up, and their good sense overpowered by the desire to act and inflict the maximum amount of damage. Mary shrank against the wall, wishing she could disappear. She looked at John, but he kept his face averted, his eyes fixed on something beyond the window. Simon leaned against the wall by the hearth, his eyes warm with sympathy when his gaze met hers. He gave Mary a watery smile, but she didn’t return it.

  At long last, Secretary Hunt and Travesty returned to the cabin. Travesty’s eyes burned with something akin to satisfaction, while Secretary Hunt was white to the roots of his hair.

  “Marshal, arrest Master Forrester, his wife, and his servant.”

  “On what charge?” Marshal Craddock asked, clearly taken aback by this turn of events.

  “On the charge of adultery and sodomy. Have your men spread the word throughout the colony. The trial will be held tomorrow at noon, and I want every plantation owner present.”

  Mary was too overcome with shock to protest as a soldier grabbed her arm and led her outside. The corpses of the three men who had assaulted her had been piled in the wagon, their sightless eyes staring up at the sky. John and Simon had to share the wagon with the dead, while Mary was permitted to sit on the bench next to the driver, on account of her condition. Travesty stood in the doorway, watching as the men mounted their horses and cantered out of the yard.

  Once in Jamestown, Mary and John were locked in a shed that was hardly big enough for the two of them to stand in side by side. Simon was taken to a different location. At least they hadn’t been put in irons. Mary sank to the ground, too weary to stand. She hadn’t eaten since breaking her fast that morning and she was lightheaded. She leaned her head against the rough wood, wishing she could go to sleep and never wake up. John sat down beside her. He was as stiff as a board, his breathing shallow and rapid.

  “Mary, do you know what Travesty said to Secretary Hunt?” he asked at last.

  “I do not.”

  John sighed. “Mary, I—” He hung his head in despair, unable to go on.

  “Don’t, John,” Mary replied, too overwrought to talk. She closed her eyes and tried to distance herself from the tiny, dark space and the sharp smell of John’s fear.

  Chapter 62

  Mary blinked as she was led out of the shed into bright sunlight. She felt lightheaded with hunger, and her mouth was dry as a bone.

  “May I have a drink?” she asked the soldier who pulled her toward the church.

  He didn’t bother to reply, but Patience came alongside her and handed her a cup of ale and a hunk of bread. Mary drank deeply and nodded her thanks before biting into the bread.

  “Don’t worry, Mary. All will be well,” Patience called out. Mary had serious doubts about this farce of a trial turning out well, but all she could do was face whatever was about to come her way.

  John walked behind her, escorted by two of Craddock’s soldiers. He hadn’t said much during the hours they’d been locked in the shed and Mary hadn’t bothered to engage him in conversation. What was there to say? Travesty had made an accusation against all of them, but what Mary couldn’t begin to understand was why. What did Travesty hope to gain by exposing John and Simon? She still had years left on her indenture contract, and if the trial went as Mary suspected it might, Travesty’s contract would simply be sold to another settler, who might not treat her as kindly as John had or might take advantage of her vulnerable position and make free with her. Perhaps that was what she hoped for, but this course of action was a great risk, and Travesty was not a foolish woman. There was something Mary wasn’t seeing. Perhaps it would come to light during the trial.

  The church was full, every pew occupied and dozens of colonists standing against the walls for lack of additional seating. There were no women, save Travesty, who sat in the first pew, her head held high. Governor Yeardley, Marshal Craddock, and Secretary Hunt sat behind a makeshift table erected in front of the pulpit. Reverend Edison sat off to the side, not part of the tribunal, but an important witness to the proceedings. Mary, John, and Simon were made to
stand before the table. John and Simon’s hands were bound, but Mary’s were left untied.

  Secretary Hunt rose to his feet and held up his hand, calling for silence. “Thank you all for coming. Today, we are here to try John Forrester, his wife, Mary Forrester, and their indentured servant, Simon Faraday. The charges are adultery, sodomy, and coercion. Travesty Brown, John Forrester’s indentured servant, has shared vital information with me, at great risk to herself, I might add. I applaud her bravery.”

  There was a general murmur of approval and although Mary couldn’t see Travesty, she could imagine her preening with self-importance.

  “Mistress Brown, will you kindly repeat what you told me in confidence yesterday?” Secretary Hunt asked.

  Mary turned to glare at Travesty, who ignored her accusing stare and got to her feet. She faced the three men and spoke in a clear and confident voice.

  “John Forrester and Simon Faraday have been involved in an unnatural clandestine relationship for at least as long as I’ve been a servant at Master Forrester’s house.”

  There was a gasp from the assembly, but Secretary Hunt held up his hand to silence the crowd. “Mistress Brown, when you refer to an unnatural relationship, what exactly do you mean?”

  “I mean sodomy, sir.”

  “And do you wish to make an accusation against Mistress Forrester?” Secretary Hunt asked.

  Mary’s stomach clenched with foreboding. Was Travesty going to accuse her of covering for John? She could hardly have given him up to the authorities. Besides, she could claim ignorance. There was no proof that she had known about John’s relationship with Simon.

  Travesty took her time answering. She made eye contact with each man in turn to make sure she had their full attention before she spoke. “Mistress Forrester has been carrying on an adulterous relationship with a native, meeting him in the woods, and lying with him freely. The child she carries is most likely his, since her husband wasn’t interested in performing his conjugal duties. The savage who killed three colonists yesterday was not there by accident, but by design. It is my belief that Mistress Forrester intended to run away with him in the near future.”

  Mary’s knees buckled as Travesty’s cruel words sank in. She wasn’t just condemning John and Simon, she was including Mary in the charges and ensuring she couldn’t possibly mount a plausible defense in the face of the accusation. What had happened yesterday was enough to give Travesty’s claim validity and imply that Mary was complicit in the deaths of her attackers.

  A soldier grabbed Mary by the shoulders to keep her from falling, but she wasn’t permitted to sit down. As she slumped against the man, welcoming blackness beckoned to her, offering oblivion and temporary peace, but Mary fought to stay alert. She had to hear what was being said. This was her only chance to fight for herself and her baby, and she’d make the most of the opportunity, if she were given one.

  Secretary Hunt turned to John, who stood, head bowed, before the tribunal. “Master Forrester, have you had sexual congress with your servant Simon Faraday?”

  John refused to answer, which was as clear an admission of guilt as if he’d shouted about his couplings with Simon from the rooftops.

  “Master Faraday, is what Mistress Brown says true?”

  Mary turned her head just enough to get a glimpse of Simon’s face. Simon was no fool, and unlike John, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  “Sirs, I’ve been an indentured servant to Master Forrester these three years. During that time, my master has indeed used me to satisfy his unnatural urges. I was not a willing party to his lust, but being wholly in his power, I felt I had no recourse.”

  “Why did you not make a complaint?” Reverend Edison demanded, outraged.

  “I was afraid no one would believe me, and I would have to not only bear the assault on my person, but also suffer punishment for betraying my master.”

  “How many times has Master Forrester made free with your body without your consent?” Governor Yeardley asked.

  “Too many to count, sir.” Simon looked like he was about to weep, and a murmur of sympathy went through the crowd.

  “Has he hurt you?” Governor Yeardley asked.

  “Frequently, sir,” Simon said, his voice trembling. “He used me most brutally.” John threw him a look of pure loathing, but Simon ignored it. “I was entirely at his mercy, good sirs.”

  “And you, Mistress Forrester, were you aware of this relationship between your husband and Master Faraday?” the governor asked.

  “I was not,” Mary lied. She wouldn’t be party to this.

  “Have you had an adulterous relationship with a savage?” the governor asked, watching her with narrowed eyes.

  “I have not,” Mary said. She held her head high and looked directly into the governor’s eyes. She would not cower before these men.

  “Liar!” Travesty called out. “I’ve seen you with him.”

  “I have spoken to the Indian known as Walks Between Worlds on several occasions. He set his traps not far from our cabin. He was courteous and respectful and never made any improper advances toward me,” Mary replied, her voice clear and calm. She didn’t care what happened to her, but she had to protect her baby, and she had to protect Walker’s reputation. She would not give the tribunal any ammunition to hold him responsible for the massacre on the road.

  “Mistress Brown, do you have any proof that Mistress Forrester did indeed engage in an adulterous relationship with this savage?” Secretary Hunt demanded.

  “I saw them together several times,” Travesty persisted.

  “Have you witnessed an act of sexual congress?”

  “I have not,” Travesty admitted.

  “So, what were they doing?” Marshal Craddock snapped. “Making daisy chains?” He looked angry and disappointed. He’d clearly hoped for more.

  “They were talking,” Travesty replied after a slight pause. “But they were too close to each other, their heads bent in a most intimate way.”

  The three judges conferred between themselves, their faces grim as they prepared to pass judgement. Secretary Hunt stood, waiting patiently until the noise died down and he was able to speak uninterrupted.

  “Master Faraday, for allowing yourself to be violated and for not reporting the offense to the governors of this colony, you are to be put in stocks for a period of twelve hours. Once your punishment is complete, you will no longer be bound to Master Forrester. Your indenture contract will revert to the Virginia Company.”

  Simon pretended to look horrified, but Mary saw the relief in his face. He let out a sigh and addressed the court. “Thank you, sirs, for freeing me from this sinful man.”

  Secretary Hunt went on. “Mary Forrester, for the crimes of consorting with a savage, shielding your husband from justice, and for your involvement in the deaths of three colonists, you are to be banished. You will return to England on the next outbound ship. Until that time, you will remain incarcerated.”

  “But I have nothing back in England. I have no home or family to return to,” Mary cried.

  “That is of no concern to us. Only women of good character can be sponsored by the Virginia Company. Were you not with child, we’d consider a more stringent punishment. We have been merciful.”

  Mary began to shake. She hadn’t expected this. “I am a married woman. You cannot separate me from my husband.” It was a feeble attempt to change their minds about banishing her, but Mary had to try. She had nothing to go back to, no means of supporting herself and her baby, and no hope of a different future if she were still married to John.

  “You are about to become a widowed woman,” the governor replied. “Master Forrester, for the crimes of coercion, sodomy, and adultery, you are to be hanged by the neck until you are dead. The sentence will be carried out immediately.”

  John’s head shot up, his eyes pleading for mercy, but the governor had already turned his attention to Travesty. “Mistress Brown, as a reward for your diligence and selflessness in
bringing this matter to our attention, your indenture contract is now fulfilled. You are a free woman. You may remain at the Forrester plantation until you make arrangements for your future.”

  Travesty smiled happily. “Thank you, sir. I’m overcome by your generosity.”

  Numb with shock, Mary watched as John and Simon were removed from the church, Simon to be put in stocks, and John to be hanged. The soldier who’d helped her took her by the arm.

  “Come. Back to the shed with you,” he said, not unkindly. He escorted Mary down the nave and toward the door.

  Travesty was already outside, surrounded by several men who were congratulating her on her good fortune and doing their hardest to ignite a spark of interest. Until the next shipload of women arrived, Travesty was the only marriageable woman in Jamestown, and she was already in high demand. She would receive several offers of marriage by the time John breathed his last.

  You sly witch, Mary thought as she glared at the woman. Travesty had waited for the perfect moment to betray them, and now she would benefit handsomely from her cunning. John shook with fear as two soldiers seized him by the arms and dragged him toward the gate, where one of the marshal’s men was already fashioning a noose. He tossed the rope over the crossbar and it hung there, swinging like a pendulum in the spring breeze.

  “No, please,” John begged as Governor Yeardley approached the place of his execution, but the governor ignored him.

  Mary hoped she’d be spared the horror, but Marshal Craddock called out to the soldier who was about to lock her in the shed. “Bring her here. Faraday too.”

  The soldier turned her around and gave her a gentle shove toward the gate. “Looks like they’re not through with you yet, mistress,” he said softly.

  A crowd had already gathered by the gate, men elbowing each other out of the way, eager to get an unobstructed view of the proceedings. Travesty stood at the edge of the crowd, flanked by several men, her eyes fixed on the noose, her mouth partly open. There was an odd look in her eyes, part satisfaction, part horror at what she’d done. She noticed Mary’s hard stare and turned away.