Accusations Part Five
Rated: PG

The town doctors refused to treat MacGyver, still believing him to be a sorcerer in league with the devil despite the official pardon issued by the governor. Emily took it upon herself to tend to him, bathing him and cleansing his wounds, dressing the inflamed, raw red gashes on his back with poultices as he lay face down on the bed, barely clinging to consciousness, her actions helping to slow and reduce infection. She stared in fierce anger at the brand permanently scarring his back, the brand of the devil, wishing she could rub it out of existence.

“How is he?” William asked, entering the room where they were keeping him, noticing the basin of water beside the bed, stained dark crimson from MacGyver’s blood, a sick, helpless feeling overcoming him.

Emily placed her hand on MacGyver’s sweaty forehead, pushing back his damp, matted hair. “A fever burns within him,” she said sadly.

“Pete,” MacGyver said weakly, stirring and moaning, his eyes still closed. He uttered incoherent gibberish and once again became still, his breathing labored, shallow, and erratic, causing great concern and alarm.

“He is suffering from delirium,” William said.

“I do not know how he could remain alive after the flogging he received,” Emily said, sighing, dabbing away his sweat with a cloth and then returning to carefully and gently arranging the poultices on his shredded back.

William thought about what she had said, about how surviving such an ordeal could further indict the man, providing further evidence of his powers as a sorcerer.

“He is strong indeed,” he said, dismissing any notions of the man’s guilt, reminding himself that he had been pardoned and was now free from being subjected to any further harm or interrogation. “He will recover, due to your efforts,” he said, smiling proudly at his daughter. “You would have excelled in the healing profession.”

Emily nodded, understanding what he meant, even though he didn’t say it. If she had been a man, it would have been perfectly respectable for her to take up medicine, but as it was, she was a woman, and she was forbidden, denied access to that world lest she be accused of being a witch for practicing it. “Yes father,” she said, focusing her attentions on her patient, continuing to apply the healing balm to his back.

“There can be no doubt that despite his strength, he is but still merely a man,” William said. “No one capable of sorcery would allow themselves to be injured so, or even to be imprisoned. Their powers would simply be too great to be harnessed by man alone. The will of God would have to intervene to stop them. We have done a grave injustice to him, my child, along with the scores of others who have been falsely accused. I have…I have considered resigning my commission due to the events I hath witnessed.”

“But you cannot,” Emily said, looking up at him in shock. “You are the only magistrate willing to listen, willing to offer leniency.” She looked down at MacGyver. “You helped him,” she said. “Suppose another like him stands accused. You can do something.”

William shook his head. “There is only so much I can do, only so many pardons the governor will issue before he begins to find them suspect and refuses to grant them any longer. I can no longer bear to live with the knowledge that I have sentenced the innocent to their deaths. I must now answer to God’s judgment for what I have allowed to transpire. I must do penance for my guilt. I am only sorry that you must also bear the burden of my shame and disgrace.”

“But the poisoned grain…” Emily said, watching MacGyver. “Surely when his health improves he will do what he promised and find a solution and end this reign of terror.”

William sighed and nodded sadly. “I can only hope so,” he said.

MacGyver stirred and moaned again. “Pete,” he whispered, his breathing harsh, raspy, and strained.

“It’s all right,” Emily said soothingly, stroking his hot cheek. “You are safe now. No further harm shall befall you.” He grew still again, and Emily looked up at her father. “He hath mentioned that name on several occasions now,” she said. “What does it mean?”

“It is related to something he told me while in prison,” William said. “He claims he is from a future time, possessing knowledge we do not yet have that could help us. This man named Pete is someone he knows from that time, someone he told me resembles me in appearance.”

Emily stroked MacGyver’s cheek again, her small, pale hand tracing his hairline, brushing locks of it back, feeling the downy, silken soft texture of the individual strands glide smoothly between her slender fingers. She would never openly admit it to her father, but she found herself attracted to the handsome stranger. “So he really is a traveler from afar—not from heaven or hell, just a different time,” she said.

“So he claims,” William said. “He told me he does not know how he arrived here, nor does he know how to return. All he wants now is to help us if he is to now live among us instead of in his former time. I tell you, child, it was the most extraordinary account I had ever heard, but I found myself believing in the sincerity of his words, believing that he had indeed saved your life, that he was of a generous and magnanimous nature. That is what convinced me to plead his case to the governor, and why he yet lives, spared from the gallows. Now it is time to see if he will deliver on what he hath promised. Daily, our fellow citizens still stand accused and are sentenced to execution for the crime of witchcraft. If he can mercifully put an end to it, then…”

“He can,” Emily said, smiling down at MacGyver’s still, battered form. “I know he can. He will. You shall see.”

***

Gradually, MacGyver’s health improved and his whip slashes healed, forming tender scars that were still sensitive to the slightest touch and would remain that way for awhile until they were fully healed. As his strength continued to return to him, he found himself feeling well and restored enough to take walks among the wheat fields, gathering samples of the pernicious fungus he believed was infecting the grain, finding it difficult to believe that something so harmful and potentially deadly could exist among such a golden, beautiful field. Still, he found plenty of it, yanking the infected stalks from the ground and bringing them back to William and Emily’s house for testing and examination, improvising with their kitchen gadgets, basic cleaning agents, and other household items, attempting to create a crude laboratory.

Emily walked in on him while he was assembling the tools for his own purposes, hard at work and not noticing her presence. She watched him for awhile, observing him. His complexion was ruddy and healthy from being out in the sun, almost tawny, nicely complementing his honey-colored hair, the evidence from his beatings gone, his whip scars covered by a simple work shirt. No longer did his body look frail, weakened and ravaged by starvation, his frame sturdy and robust, his masculine profile strong and sharply defined. She smiled at him, once again finding him attractive, blushing slightly.

“It’s good to see you well,” she said, breaking his intense concentration. “What is it you are working on?” She picked up some of the grain, staring at it. “Is this the grain you believe is tainted and causing those girls to see what they believe to be the work of the devil?”

“Yes it is,” MacGyver said, looking at her and smiling pleasantly.

Emily continued to examine the grain, noticing dark blotches discoloring the otherwise golden spikes. “It looks so strange,” she said.

“I was going to conduct some tests on it to prove my analysis, but I think it’s Ergot,” he said.

“What is that?” Emily asked, handing him the grain.

“It’s the name of the fungus,” MacGyver said. “You see, Ergot poisoning causes hallucinations, irrational behavior, convulsions…just like what those girls are experiencing.”

“Leading them to believe they have been bewitched,” Emily said. “I see.”

“So if I can prove it to the rest of the village, perhaps these trials can stop,” MacGyver said.

“Well, how do we stop this fungus from spreading?”

“There are many things we can try to do to control its spread, improved farming methods for one,” MacGyver said. “Crop rotations, proper irrigation, recognizing, isolating, and destroying the contaminated grains…all of these things should help reduce their proliferation and their chances of ending up in the food supply. It’s all about control and containment, really. I can help your people with that. I can educate them.”

Emily smiled at him. “I continue to be glad that you were spared your life,” she said. “Father made the right decision in seeking your pardon from the governor. Yet, I must warn you, many in the village still do not trust you, considering you to be their enemy. Many still believe you are an agent of evil, that you made a compact with the devil to carry out his destructive work. It will not be easy to convince them, and I am not entirely certain they will take kindly to a stranger…educating them as you call it, telling them how they must tend to their crops.”

“All we can do is try,” MacGyver said. “They listen to and respect your father, and I know he understands what I’m trying to do. Maybe he can help.”

Emily shook her head, sighing sadly. “My father is no longer as venerated as he once was,” she said. “The people blame him for your release, believing you to be guilty and undeserving of a pardon. They feel he harbors a sorcerer in his very home, undermining his authority, weakening his position. They believe you have him under the influence of a spell, forcing him to do your bidding.”

“Well, maybe when the toxic grain is eliminated and the girls stop seeing their terrifying visions, the people will change their mind,” MacGyver said. “I know I am an outsider here and will never fully gain their trust, but surely that would improve their opinion of me.”

“I only pray that you are right,” Emily said, sighing. She looked at the improvised contraptions MacGyver had made, abstract amalgamations of household tools that made little sense to her but she knew they meant something to him. “Father told me you are from a different time,” she said.

“Yes, I am,” MacGyver said.

“That would explain how you know of this. I must confess I do not understand everything it is that you are doing, but I know you are fully competent and capable of producing the desired results. I only hope you are able to find a cure for what ails those girls before it is too late. There is rumor that more people are seeing visions, that the affliction is spreading. More people are being accused of witchcraft, and the prisons are becoming overcrowded. There is great fear and hysteria in the village.”

“I know,” MacGyver said. “I was surprised to find more Ergot in the fields than I expected. It’s going to take a lot of hard work and effort to fully eradicate it.”

“But you can, can you not?”

“It won’t be easy.”

“Oh, but you must,” Emily said. “If this continues…many people already suspect that you are the cause of the increase in sightings of witches, that they are your servants. I do not know how long the pardon will protect you. The governor could reverse his decision at any time if he continues to hear these horrific reports of enchantment in our village. I fear once again for your safety.”

“Emily,” MacGyver said, taking her hand. “Everything will work out fine. We’ll put a stop to this, together. I promise. We already know the cause, the root of the problem. From there, we can begin to solve it.”

Emily saw the strength and conviction in his eyes as he said this, knowing he believed it. She only wished she could be as certain.

***

“Show me how to perform this…CPR you spoke of before,” Emily said later that night after the evening meal, sitting in front of the stove, flames roaring inside it, providing heat and casting a soft orange glow on the walls of the simple dwelling.

William had retired to bed early, discouraged and weary. It greatly distressed Emily to see him that way, but after she once again reminded him of MacGyver’s promise to rid them of the poison that was infesting their grain and causing the disturbing visions, he seemed assured and calm once again, relieving her and brightening her spirits.

“Well, I’m going to need a model to demonstrate it on,” MacGyver said, smiling awkwardly.

“I have just what you require,” Emily said, retreating to her bedroom, returning with a cloth doll. “Will this do?” She asked, smiling.

“It’s a little small,” MacGyver said, grinning, “but I’m sure I can make it work.”
He laid the doll on the floor, doing his best not to laugh at the silliness and absurdity of his situation, performing a life-saving maneuver on a doll, an inanimate object, as if he were a child pretending to be a doctor, curing his sick toys. Instead, he tried to treat it seriously, knowing that Emily really wanted to learn, and the doll was all he had available to show her how, and, after all, they did use dummies during training, even though he reminded himself that those had been full-sized, in scale with the actual human body. Still, he did his best to accurately depict how to perform the procedure.

“See, what you do is compress on the chest and breathe into the mouth of the patient,” MacGyver said. “I’ll show you.”

Emily watched with rapt attention, completely engrossed and fascinated as he showed her what to do on her doll.

“And…you say that anyone of us could learn how to revive someone using this technique?” She asked.

“Yes,” MacGyver said. “There’s nothing magic about it. Come on, I’ll show you. You try it now. Follow exactly what I showed you.”

Emily felt a thrill of excitement pass through her as she did what he asked on the doll. “I never realized…you could bring someone back to life in such a manner,” she said. “I always thought it impossible until you showed me.”

“Well, now you know it is possible,” MacGyver said.

Emily stared at him in wonderment. “You truly are our savior,” she said, smiling at him. “I know it to be true. You will help us, and the rest of the village will see that in time. They will understand.”

“I think so too, Emily,” MacGyver said. “It will be difficult, but we’ll get there.”

“I am prepared for the challenge,” Emily said. “Father hath been despairing as of late for his continued role in this madness, but he still believes you as well. We can improve our lives here. You wilt show us how. You will show us the way.”

“I am still just a man, Emily,” MacGyver said. “Of course I will do all I can to help, but you must understand that I am no more an angel than I am a devil. It will take time. Some things might not work as I intended.”

“I know,” Emily said. “I still believe you. I am confident you will do what is best for us all.”

She embraced him, which made him feel uncomfortable, unsure if he was breaking their strict rules of propriety by returning the embrace, by touching her. He didn’t want William to enter the room and see them that way, so he gently released her and smiled at her.

Outside, hidden amongst the brambles and bushes, Thomas had positioned himself, peering through the windows. He knew that traitor William had allowed that vile sorcerer asylum in his home, weakened under the influence of his spell, and he wanted to see what the fiend was plotting now that he had schemed and seduced the governor to grant him a pardon under the guise of being innocent. He saw the bizarre contraptions MacGyver had built, convinced they served some dark purpose, knowing they would be important evidence once he could persuade the governor that he had been duped into freeing a guilty man. Moving stealthily along to the other side of the home, he watched in horror as he saw the sorcerer himself, once again using his powers on William’s daughter to charm her into submission and do his bidding, doing something ghastly to a doll, wondering if that doll was the representation of anyone in the village, suffering helplessly as he transferred his powers from the doll to them, tormenting them from a distance through this devilish instrument. He began to feel some sympathy for William and his family, knowing they too were victims of this sorcerer’s power, sorry that they had been so woefully mislead, tempted into evil as Eve had been tempted by the dark one himself in the garden.

“I like this not,” he whispered.

He would find the means to return the sorcerer where he belonged. Right now, he was powerless, the pardon the governor had issued still standing, but he would change that. He knew he could. He could convince the right people in authority that the pardon had been a mistake, a grave error in judgment. As the days passed more and more villagers were witnessing acts of witchcraft, and more were accused. He knew they were all connected to this man somehow, this stranger. It was all his doing. Incidents, sightings, and reports of witchcraft had only increased with his presence. Thomas knew that if he could permanently rid them of this agent of evil, peace would be restored. He also knew that he had to act swiftly, before they would all be damned eternally to the flames of hell.

To be continued…

Ain't we glad to live in the current times? >_<

I don't like Thomas for what he did to MacGyver, but at the same time I can "see" how the ignorance of the times sort of ruled the way people behaves. He truly believes he's doing the correct thing, but being so "close-minded" meant so much suffering for so many

If they were true Christians, they'd never even dream of doing what they did.

And they'd know how to study.

But true Christians were never the ones who wrote history after Constantine the Great.

--

Good chapter as always

great read.

So very true, Ignus. Some people have taken the Bible out of context for so long, they make real Christians look very bad. Its those so called Christians that are responsible for many people turning away from God.

Thanks again, MacsChick for another great chapter!