The sun began to crest over the horizon and cast its warmth upon the small village of Torridon. Yet the sun’s warmth went unfelt by the two women who shivered side by side in a jail cell. It was the beginning of winter and frost had claimed the land some time ago. With no fire or candlelight, they’d had no warmth, so they huddled together and wept during the night. Crystals of ice clung to their lashes and their noses were bright pink from the cold. 

 

   What were their crimes? For the young woman, the only crime that condemned her to this place was her own foolishness. And for the elder? Simply for being the young one's mother. For their crimes, these two women were accused of witchcraft at the hands of a vindictive young girl.

 

   Saoirse had a naïve heart, and she’d been captivated by a handsome young man named Duncan who lived in the village. Once, he’d broken his arm in an accident while helping a neighbor build a house, and Saoirse’s Pa instructed her to tend to him. Their family were healers, and her parents were training her in their trade. After that, Duncan would keep finding excuses to have Saoirse tend him; either to help with some pain from his arm, or from some mysterious ailment after it had already healed. They were growing closer, and soon, they were often finding excuses to see each other.

 

   This hadn’t gone unnoticed by Saoirse's friend, Maisri. She was another girl in Torridon who had such feelings for Duncan, and now that Saoirse was spending so much time with him, she became filled with envy. So, when their pregnant neighbor whom Saoirse’s Ma had been caring for suffered a miscarriage, Maisri took the opportunity to get the young healer out of her way.

 

   After she saw how distraught some of their neighbors became as a result of their loss, Maisri told the authorities that Saoirse confessed to her that they’d used witchcraft to make that woman miscarry. The healer’s home was searched for any signs of witchcraft, as well as their bodies. Their scars and Saoirse’s birthmark on her hip were used as evidence of their contract with the devil, and their knowledge of the drying wild herbs hanging in their window was taken as knowledge of the dark arts. Lastly, it was the admission by the youngest of their family, Carrick, that sealed their fate. After being pressured by the village officials, he admitted that he’d witnessed his Ma give the woman some tea a couple of days before her miscarriage.

 

   Now, all the witch hunters wanted was a confession from the women. They’d been left to freeze overnight in that jail cell in hopes that they’d make their confession in exchange for food and warmth by morning. Yet, when neither woman confessed, the sheriff decided to apply further pressure by more gruesome means. Saoirse’s Ma was dragged from their cell and taken to the docks, where they tied her into the ducking chair.

 

   Saoirse heard it all from her jail cell. Her mother’s wailing was only interrupted by the sound of sloshing water and silence as she was repeatedly dunked into the harbor while bound to that chair. She pleaded as the sheriff interrogated her, only to be lowered back down when she would not confess.

 

   The December waters were so cold. ‘It’s my fault’, Saoirse thought as she wept alone in that frozen jail cell. ‘Maisri did this because of me. My Ma is drownin’, an’ it’s all my fault.’

 

   That’s when the sound of a scuffle drew her attention. She looked up to see her older brother, Ramsey, fighting with the guard. He was armed with nothing but a dagger, and after a punch to the jaw, the guard was knocked out. “Ramsey! What are ye doin’ here? Have ye gone mad?” Saoirse cried as she rose from where she sat. “I’ve come to get ye out of here,” he quickly explained as he crouched to take the keyring from the unconscious guard’s belt. 

 

   “No, ye cannae! They’ll put ye in here with me. Leave me! Go an’ save Ma, they’re killin’ her!” Her brother looked at her with wide eyes as he rose and approached her cell. As he jammed the key into the lock and twisted, he said, “I cannae save Ma, there are too many watchin’... All I can do now is hope she can distract ‘em long enough for me to get ye out of here.”

 

   This can’t be. Not Ma. Saoirse looked at her brother with denial in her eyes, and when he glanced up and saw her expression, he said, “I cannae save ye both, but Ma would want ye to live. Go on an’ live for her.”

 

   At last, the lock on her cell sprung open and the redhead flew into her brother’s arms. Their embrace was brief, because Saoirse pulled back and said, “Come on, we’ve got to run!” 

 

   “Ye go ahead,” he instructed her, and she stopped to furrow her brows and shake her head. She was about to argue and insist that he come along with her, and remind him that it was too dangerous to stay behind, but Ramsey didn’t give her the chance. Before her lips could part to speak, he said, “The guard can wake up at any second an’ tell the others that we’ve gone. Ye run ahead, I will stay to lock him up and buy ye time. Dinnae fash, I’ll catch up to ye. Run!”

 

  When her older brother practically shoved her out the door, adrenaline took over and Saoirse fled. Her feet carried her across the frozen ground as she quickly and cautiously navigated her way through the village. When she finally made it to the treeline, the healer ran through the forest and towards her freedom with nothing more than the clothes on her back.