Captain Potter grabbed the chair, shoved it against the pantry door and backed away. He reconsidered and instead moved the entire table in front of the door. In a flustered and sleep-deprived panic, he rotated the couch around to face the door. Finally, he dragged the small table beside the couch and lay his flintlock upon it.

With candles lit, Mr Potter lay on the couch. Now watching the pantry door, he whispered: “Come out, I dare you.” The door seemed to bulge in the darkness. That meagre candlelight wasn’t enough to penetrate the umbra of the manor house. Fierce angular architecture defended its dark nooks from exploring light.

David was kept awake by the upcoming trial that would blight this already tortured village. Revelations of past sins would be laid bare like Jezebel for waiting adulterers. Perhaps they would vie for his blood as he did for Alius’.

Fatigue took over David, and his troubles could no longer bear the strain of keeping him awake. He clutched the garlic in his pocket and retrieved it to place it on the table beside his flintlock. His eyes flickered. Then he fell asleep.

***

“Good morning, David.”

David’s eyes flickered and cleared away the sleepy blur. Elizabeth stood across the couch before the pantry door with her hands behind her back. The sound of chirping birds and a cockerel crow chattered from outside. It was morning. He sat up quickly and looked around.

“You were busy rearranging last night? You made quite the noise.”

“Sorry, Elizabeth. I heard some things and was ensuring we were safe.”

She tilted her head and looked at the flintlock accompanied by the garlic on the little table. “Enjoy the smell of garlic and gunpowder?”

He chuckled and rubbed the side of his head. “Not quite.”

“I think I mentioned how and why I dislike garlic.” Elizabeth had taken on a stern tone that took David by surprise. “Please dispose of it. Promptly.” She raised both eyebrows. “Then you should fetch food from the village. I’ll cook you breakfast.”

David pursed his lips and hesitantly gathered the garlic from the dining table. He placed it in a box. “I’m not hungry.”

“Don’t tell me fibs, Captain.” She smirked. “You have a big day ahead of you. So do I.”

“I’ll dispose of this garlic on my way to the village.”

“Thank you.”

Captain Potter left the manor and trudged down the garden path with the box of garlic under one arm. He looked around and decided to hide the box in an unused planter. He turned and looked up at the manor house. A shadow moved in the upstairs window. He shuddered and continued into the village.

The centre was alive with business and trade. The clinking of the smithy hammer, children playing, and the general chatter of the population was a welcome ambience.

Jimethy and Greg approached and gave him a wave. “By the lord, you look dreadful, David.”

“Thank you, Jim.” Said the Captain, rubbing his baggy, bloodshot eyes. He was pale and seemed to walk with a dazed skip.

“How was your sleep?” Jim smirked.

“Dreadful. That house is a nuisance.”

“Oh?”

“Doors slamming, furniture moving…”

Greg gave Jimethy a sideways glance. “Furniture moving?”

“Aye.” The Captain yawned and rubbed his face. “I moved a chair to stop the pantry door slamming and it ended up tucked back under the dining room table.”

“The wind, perhaps?” Asked Greg.

David shook his head. “No, perhaps Elizabeth.”

Jimethy raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I think she’s been turned somewhat batty by this whole experience. It’s like living with a cat that talks.” At that, David looked back at the looming manor house. The curtains in the top window fell closed. He shivered. “I need to get some food for the house.”

“The trial will be today, yes?” Jimethy inclined his head.

“It will.”

“Who will be presiding? You said it’d be you.”

Mr Potter nodded a few times, “I perhaps said that in great haste. I believe old Graveson would be best.”

“He’s a smart man,” said Greg.

“We need a jury too. Six should do.” Added Jimethy.

“Can I entrust you with that task, Jim?”

“Sure, what time will it happen?”

“Three.” Jimethy bowed his head and turned away. Greg made to follow, but the captain stopped him. “Greg.”

“Yes?”

“Help the prisoners clean up best you can.”

“Alright.”

“Bring Samuel and Terrence, take no chances.”

Greg smirked and jogged away to catch up to Jimethy.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

The Captain looked around the village. People were looking at him, talking about him and most likely eager to listen to what he to say. He sighed and stood on the centre edging surrounding the old Willow tree. “People!”

The villagers stopped and quietened, but they didn’t move.

“Right.” The Captain clapped his hands. This announcement was the first he’d made, and he was, for some reason, a little nervous. What if the people did not accept the nature of this trial? “As you’re all aware, we have two prisoners. Their trial will occur today. It will be a local affair.”

“No outside officiating, then?”

“Not necessary.” The Captain raised his chin. “We can deal with this ourselves as a village.”

The villagers gathered around and listened to Mr Potter explain the agenda. He was confident it would go well, which showed through in his delivery.

Old man Graveson would take priority over breakfast. The Captain ventured to Gravesons’ shack. It was within the outer rim of the woods surrounding the village and sat beside the old gardens planted upon the village's founding. Old man Graveson had managed the garden. He took considerable pride in their upkeep, though they did not receive as many visitors nowadays.

Captain Potter knocked on the shack door, rattling vigorously.

The door clattered and wobbled after a few minutes. Old man Graveson stood in the doorway. He was tall with a long grey beard that covered most of his face. A pair of round spectacles balanced precariously on the edge of his bulbous nose. “Aye?” He eyed Captain Potter as he leaned on his gnarled cane.

“Good morning, Mr Graveson.”

“Potter.”

“That’s me, eh, Captain Potter now.”

“That fool Alius die or something?”

He cleared his throat. “Not quite, he’s actually on trial.”

“Fer what?”

“The recent murders in the village?”

“Not sure about all that.”

“Well. I am Captain now, and I have come to ask your services on behalf of the village.”

“Go on.” Graveson’s voice was tired. He swayed on the spot.

David smiled. “We’d like you to be judge over the proceedings.”

Graveson’s milky eyes narrowed, “I’m an old man. I don’t have the energy for that.”

“It would be good to have someone with your experience be there for the trial.”

The elder pushed out his bottom lip. “Alius, I never could place my finger on him.” He grunted. “Did he ever rebuild the chapel and find a new reverend?”

David tried to hide his impatience. He needed a “yes” so he could be on his way. “No, he did not—”

“It’s been nearly a year!” Graveson wheezed angrily.

“If I remain as Captain, I’ll make it a priority Mr Graves—”

“What do you mean if you’ll remain?”

The captain cleared his throat, “I’m only acting Captain. There are other suitable candidates. I shall hold a vote after the trial.”

Graveson jabbed at Mr Potter with his cane. “How can you make any promises if you don’t know if you’ll even be the Captain? Hm?”

David caught the cane after the third prod and did his best to keep his voice calm. “As I said. If I am made Captain, the Chapel rebuild and replacing the reverend will be my priority.” He pushed the cane to one side.

Graveson nodded a few times and hummed. “Right, and when is this trial?”

“Today, three o'clock.”

“Today! By the Lord, you give an old man little chance.” He shook his head. “Have someone pick me up in a cart. I can’t walk far.”

“No problem. And Mr Graveson.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” Mr Potter smiled and bowed his head.

Mr Graveson slammed his door on him and muttered something untoward.

***

Mr Potter made the arrangements to have old man Graveson collected. Jimethy had gathered a jury and had ushered them into the town hall. The two ladies who worked in the administration room had tidied the rarely used town hall for the coming trial.

Breakfast. It was nearly noon, and Mr Potter hadn’t returned to the house with food for poor Elizabeth. He frantically gathered eggs and bread, then charged back to the manor.

He barged through the door, “Elizabeth.”

She was standing across from him, hands behind her back. “What took you so long? I asked you to fetch breakfast. It’s gone noon.”

David tried to wave her remarks off, “I know, hugely sorry, got caught up in preparation for the trial.” He held up the eggs and bread. “I brought us something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Right, and should you still like to make me a meal.”

“Make it yourself.” Elizabeth snapped and stormed upstairs.

David was left there in confusion. He felt like a husband scorned by a disappointed wife. Worse still, he felt guilty. His tardiness was perfectly reasonable, given the circumstances. He looked at the bread and eggs and shrugged.

Elizabeth approached David while he poached some of the eggs. “David.”

He looked over his shoulder, “Elizabeth, are you well?”

She frowned. “I wish to make amends. I do not like it when we argue like this.”

David turned to face her and nodded with an expression of confusion painted over his face. “Right.”

“You understand why I was upset with you, right, David?”

“Yes. I promised breakfast, instead, I returned at dinner time.”

“Please don’t make promises to me and fail to keep them, David. It’s been very hard for me.”

David pondered the direction Elizabeth had decided to take. She was not interested in giving any quarter. Her recent circumstances made him sympathetic to her misgivings, though it still vexed him. An unpleasant feeling washed over him that caused him to shudder. “Of course, I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t hiding anything else from me? Are you, David?”

“Such as?”

“You promised me that you’d dispose of that vile garlic.”

David began to sweat while his cheeks reddened. “That I did.”

“You fulfilled your promise, right, David?” Elizabeth’s eyes flashed and then narrowed.

David swallowed deeply as that cool gaze pierced him. “I…left them at the end of the garden. He cleared his throat. I mean to give them away.”

“Very good.” Her face returned to the innocent visage he remembered when he freed her from the pantry dungeon. “So. The trial will happen today?”

“Three o’clock in the town hall.” He turned back to his eggs and lifted the pan to stop the water bubbling over. He had instead made hard-boiled eggs. “We should expect to see you at the trial, Elizabeth.”

“Me?”

“You’ll need to give your account of what Alius did like last night.”

Elizabeth sat down at the dining table. “I see. You are quite right, of course. I shall attend the trial. I do fear the prospect of seeing Alius again.”

“I can imagine,” David said as he set the eggs and bread on one plate and sat across from Elizabeth. She eyed his meal. “Did you want some?”

“I already told you, your late return chased my hunger away.”

David nodded. “Of course.” He bit into an egg, well aware of Elizabeth's stare as he tucked in, a sense of creeping guilt reforming at the pit of his stomach.

“You aren’t going to say grace before you eat?” Elizabeth frowned with a quirk of disgust that tugged at her top lip.

David dropped the remaining half of the egg on his table. He was about to scold her but controlled himself. His temple vein trembled. He finished what was in his mouth and cleared his throat. “Of course, how absent-minded of me.” He placed his hands together, closed his eyes and spoke a small prayer of thanks.” When he opened his eyes, Elizabeth had gone.