“I heard she was the chief witness against the man.”

“Ayup, but how would she know about the witches' sabbath iffen she didn't go to it her own self, will you tell me that?”

“So why do they go to all this trouble? Why don't they just hang her?”

The man looked sharply at Verily. “You looking to stir up trouble, stranger?”

“Not I,” said Verily. “I think they're both innocent as you are, sir. Not only that, but I think you know it, and you're only talking them guilty so no one will suspect that you also have a knack, which you keep well-hidden.”

The man's eyes widened with terror, and without another word he melted away into the crowd.

Verily nodded. It was a safe enough thing to charge, if Alvin was right, and all folks had some kind of hidden power. All had something to hide. All feared the accusers. Therefore it was good to see this accuser charged right along with the man she accused. Hang her before she accuses anybody else. Verity had to count on that fear and aggravate it.

He strode out onto the common. At once a murmur went up– who was the stranger, and how did he dare to go so close to where the witcher was running the witches to wear them down and get a full confession out of them?

“You, sir,” said Verily to the witcher. He spoke loudly, so all could hear. “Where is the officer of the law supervising this interrogation?”

“I'm the officer,” said the witcher. He spoke just as loudly– people usually matched their voices to the loudest speaker, Verily found.

“You're not from this town,” Verily said accusingly. “Where are the tithingmen!”

At once the dozen men who had formed watchful rings around both Alvin and Purity turned, some of them raising their hands.

“Are you men not charged with upholding the law?” demanded Verily. “Interrogation of witnesses in witch trials is to take place under the supervision of officers of the court, duly appointed by the judge or magistrate, precisely to stop torture like this from taking place!”

The word torture was designed to strike like a lash, and it did.

“This is not torture!” the witcher cried. “Where is the rack? The fire? The water?”

Verily turned toward him again, but stepped back, speaking louder than before. “I see you are familiar with all the methods of torture, but running them is one of the cruelest! When a person is worn down enough, they'll confess to… to suicide if it will end the torment and allow them to rest!”

It took a moment for the surrounding crowd to understand the impossibility of a confession of suicide, but he was rewarded with a chuckle. Turn the crowd; everyone who ended up on the jury would know of what was said here today.

Because the tithingmen were looking away, both Alvin and Purity had staggered and dropped to their knees. Now they both knelt on all fours in the grass, panting, heads hanging like worn-out horses.

“Don't let them rest!” the witcher cried frantically. “You'll set the whole interrogation back by hours!”

The tithingmen looked to their rods and switches, which they used to goad the runners, but none moved toward the two victims.

“At last you remember your duty,” said Verily.

“You have no authority here!” cried the witcher. “And I am an officer of the court!”

“Tell me then the name of the magistrate here in Cambridge who appointed you.”

The witcher knew he'd been caught exceeding his authority, since he had none until the local judge called for his services, and so he did not answer Verily's challenge directly. “And who are you?” the witcher demanded. “From your speech you're from England– what authority do you have?”

“I have the authority to demand that you be clapped in irons yourself if you cause these two souls to be tortured for one more moment!” cried Verily. He knew the crowd was spellbound, watching the confrontation. “For I am Alvin Smith's attorney, and by torturing my client without authority, you, sir, have broken the Protection Act of 1694!” He flung out an accusing finger and the witcher visibly wilted under his accusation.

Verily was growing impatient, however, for the plan wasn't to win a petty victory here on the common. Was Purity so tired she couldn't lift her head and see who was speaking here?

He was about to launch into another tirade, during which he would wander closer to Purity and stand her up to face him if need be, but finally she recognized him and eliminated the need.

“That's him!” she cried.

The witcher sensed salvation. “Who? Who is he?”

“The English lawyer who was traveling with Alvin Smith! He's a witch too! He has a knack with wood!”

“So he was also at the witches' sabbath!” cried the witcher. “Of course Satan quotes the law to try to save his minions! Arrest that man!”

Verily immediately turned to the crowd. “See how it goes! Everyone who stands up for my client will be accused of witchcraft! Everyone will be clapped into jail and tried for his life!”

“Silence him!” cried the witcher. “Make him run along with the others!”

But the tithingmen, who reluctantly took Verily by the elbows because he had been accused, had no intention of doing any more running, now that it had been called torture and declared to be illegal. “No more running today, sir,” said one of them. “We'll have to hear from the judge before we let you do such things again.”

As a couple of tithingmen helped Purity stagger toward the courthouse, she whimpered when she came near Verily. “Don't bring me near him,” she said. “He casts spells on me. He wants to come to me as an incubus!”

“Purity, you poor thing,” Verily said. “Hear yourself spout the lies this witcher has taught you to tell.”

“Speak no word to her!” cried the witcher. “Hear him curse her!”

To the tithingmen, Verily wryly muttered, “Did that sound like a curse to you?”

“No muttering! Keep still!” screamed the witcher.

Verily answered the witcher loudly. “All I said was, to a man with a hammer everything looks like a nail!”

Some people understood at once and chuckled. But the witcher was not one for irony. “A satanic utterance! Hammers and nails! What have you cursed me with? Confess your meaning, sir!”

“I mean, sir, that to those who profit from witch trials, every word sounds like a curse!”

“Get him out of here with his filthy lies and innuendoes!”

The tithingmen dragged him and Alvin off to the courthouse, to cells far from each other, but they were near each other several times, and though they didn't speak, they traded glances, and Verily made sure Alvin saw him grinning from ear to ear. This is working exactly as I wanted, Verily was saying.

Alone in his cell, though, Verily lost his smile. Poor Purity, he thought. How deeply had this witcher twisted her mind? Was her integrity so tied up in knots that she was no longer capable of seeing how she was being manipulated? Somewhere along the line, she had to realize that the witcher was using her.

Let it be soon, thought Verily. I don't want Alvin to have to wait long in this jail.

Hezekiah Study had already packed his bag for an extended stay with his niece in Providence when he heard the shouting on the common and leaned out his window to listen. He watched the English lawyer embarrass Micah Quill, manipulating the master manipulator until Hezekiah wanted to cheer. His heart sank when Purity denounced the lawyer– and, indeed, she had spoken of a lawyer in Alvin Smith's party right from the start– but the lawyer managed to plant seeds of doubt in every onlooker's mind all the same. To Hezekiah Study, it was the first time he'd ever seen the early stages of a witch trial without dread and despair seizing his heart. For the English lawyer was grinning like a schoolboy who doesn't mind the punishment because it was worth it to put the rock through the schoolmaster's window.