felt bile rise into her mouth. She swallowed hard.
“Isabel!” Rowena shouted.
Jonathon quickly wrapped a hand over her mouth. “Rowena, don’t let them know who you are, or you’ll be put on trial as well,” he said in her ear.
Rowena nodded, unable to stop tears this time. She quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of her dress.
Isabel was dragged inside the courthouse with old wounds leaking blood. Rowena took a deep breath as she followed the trail of Isabel’s blood into the courthouse. Inside was a lifeless cavernous room with wooden chairs situated in front of a large wooden desk. Isobel was walking by herself now but the two guards gripped her arms, blanching her skin. Rowena, Jonathon, and Ronan fought with the crowd for a seat inside. They found seats in the back. More than a couple hundred people had stuffed into the room, most of them standing.
Isabel was made to stand in the middle of the room before three men donning white wigs, sitting at the large desk. They were all portly with scowling faces. A tall man in a black shirt and leggings in the far corner of the room rang a bell, signaling everybody to be quiet. The chattering crowd eventually went silent. The judge who sat in the middle of the desk looked at Isabel who was weeping gently, her head down.
“Are you Isabel Cobham of Village Grove?” His voice was harsh and raspy.
“Yes.” Isabel looked up briefly, showing tear-stained, swollen cheeks. Bruises covered her delicate pale skin and her arms and legs were marred with scratches. The rough shift she wore was filthy and covered in bloodstains, some of them old. Rowena shuddered, wondering how many women had been made to wear that horrible garment before Isabel. Isabel’s long golden hair was tangled with clumps of dirt and blood.
“Speak up!” the middle judge roared, his white wig wobbling on the top of his head.
Isabel took a deep breath and yelled, “Yes!”
“You, Isabel Cobham, have been accused of practicing witchcraft. How do you confess to this horrendous accusation?” The judge’s thin eyes stared coldly at Isabel.
She held her head up high and answered the judge. “Yes. I confess I am a witch and I’m proud of that fact,” she said, each word hitting Rowena’s heart like boulders. The judges didn’t bother to hide their smiles and whispered among each other.
The middle one turned back to Isabel and bellowed, “You confess to charge of practicing witchcraft?”
Isabel nodded and held her head high. “I do.”
The judge gestured to the guards. “Take her away and have her sign a full confession.”
The crowd broke their silence. Cheers erupted. They started throwing stale hunks of bread and fruit at Isobel. Rowena stood up and yelled at them to stop but nobody could hear her over the cacophony. Isabel shielded her face with her bruised arms and cried out.
The judges banged on the desk. “Stop that at once! Not inside the courthouse!”
The throwing stopped but the jeers didn’t. Tears streamed down Rowena’s face as her friend was taken out of sight by the guards. She wiped away the hot sticky tears as the noise died down and the judge surveyed the crowd.
“Let this young woman be an example to all of you. She will be punished accordingly.”
The judge and his two assistants stood up from the high desk and left through the door at the back of the room. The crowd piled out, leaving the three of them sitting alone.
Rowena sat silently staring at the spot where Isabel had been standing moments before.
“Rowena, I know that was horrible to see. But it is going to get worse when we go inside the cells.” Jonathon placed a hand on Rowena’s right shoulder and pulled her close. He passed her a handkerchief and she took it and blew her nose. Ronan had his head bowed.
“She’s like a sister to me,” Rowena said.
“Who, Isabel?”
“We’ve been friends since we were little girls. Our mothers were taken from us. We used to talk about growing up like them, continuing their good work in their honor. Healing the sick and taking food to the hungry, performing a love spell or two for the lonely women.” Rowena looked down at her lap and fiddled with the handkerchief.
“You can still do all of those things.”
“Isabel can’t.” Rowena’s voice wavered.
“We can still help her.” Ronan stood up. “And all your other friends still in the prison.”
Rowena stood beside him. “How come you were sent from the future?” she asked.
“Because women