Breen shouted his outrage into the crowd but it was swallowed up by the mob as they surged forward onto the platform and swept Marcie off her feet.
The Barman dragged his family to the side and shielded them from the villagers, shoving anyone who dared get too close away while his children cried.
Breen tried to get to Marcie but he found himself restrained by many angry hands. He shouted into the faces of who held him but only blank cruel stares answered him.
A booming voice was heard over the noise, it was the voice of the Black smith.
"The people have spoken Roor! Let her be burned for her crimes against your people! Let my son be avenged!"
Other voices joined his, until the cry of "Burn her" became a chant. Fists were raised in the air and the hall rang with the words.
Roor, who had been shoved to one side, looked across the platform to the accused.
Marcie's bravado had faded and her expression was slowly turning to panic.
A villager grabbed her hair, twisting the braid around his fist and yanking her head back, he held a short yet sharp knife to her exposed throat and screamed hoarsely,
"Why not slit er throat right now! Ill do it I tell ya!"
The crowd roared, pushing and shoving.
"No!" Kena cried, she was standing on Roor's vacated chair so she could be seen by all,
"It would be too merciful a death for one such as she!" she stared at Marcie's terrified eyes as she tried hard not too breath too much with the knife pressed against her flesh and grinned triumphantly,
"No-" she barely stifled a giggle, "-let us see if she truly can withstand the flames of judgement! Take her too her fathers freshly prepared pyre and test her before The Goddess!"
She turned with a flourish to where Roor stood and addressed him directly,
"Pass your judgement leader Roor, with your people and The Goddess as your witnesses!"
Silence fell over the villagers. Those who loved Marcie watched him with tears in their eyes, most watched him with anger and violence in theirs. A few watched him with uncertainty.
Marcie watched him, the whites of her eyes showing around her freak green irises, her throat still exposed by the villager.
He did not believe her to be guilty, he had seen no sign of her possessing any power. He had always been wary of her, a woman, half an outsider, abandoned by mother, father and brother, a skilled hunter and secretive.
He could not say that he believed the terrified child in front of him was the monster Kena wished her to be.
And yet...as he looked into the faces of those he led. He remembered his duty. A duty bestowed upon him by the people, who voted for his election after Leader Varjay passed, and clarified by The Witch Dafne, who visited him the night after the election, as he wondered how on earth he had allowed himself to be talked into this position.
She had told him the truth of the village he was born into. Of her magic and communion with the great tree that gave the forest fruit and of her own role as his ancestor.
She had told him all this as he sat stunned behind the desk in his new office then she leaned towards him and said fiercely,
"This ere is my village, ya hear? My people. An you will do well ta remember that. That means you keep em safe. Even from emselves if need be. Keep em happy and content, listen to them and remember; majority always wins"
Then she silenced him with magic, so he could not tell another soul of what he had learned.
He wished the miserable old bat was here now to cast her own judgement on the proceedings. But she was absent and he bowed his head. Majority always wins.
Roor raised his staff. It felt as though it weighed as much as a house, his arm ached and the ache quickly spread to his chest, he could hear the pounding of blood in his veins.
He cleared his throat and said hoarsely,
"Marcie No Ones bride"
The villager removed his knife and released her hair. Marcie slumped forward, her head hanging low, her hair falling around her face, obscuring it.
"For the crime of witchcraft-" Roor found it very hard to speak suddenly and cleared his throat again, "I find you..." he looked away from Marcie's inert form and instead stared at the ceiling of the hall,
"Guilty"
He brought the staff down with a thump on the wooden floor.
Then his eyes rolled in his head and he collapsed to the floor, his hand clutching at his chest.