Accusations Part Six
Rated: PG

It was not long before Emily fell stricken to the disturbing symptoms of Ergot poisoning herself, leaving her severely ill and bedridden. MacGyver and William kept vigil over her as she convulsed and moaned nonsense, her face creased in continual pain and distress.

“I…do not understand how this could have happened,” William said sadly, his facial muscles quivering as he fought to suppress the tears and emotions that threatened to surface.

MacGyver stroked her sweaty face in a comforting gesture. “It must have been her exposure to the fungus while she was trying to help me,” he said.

“Remove your hands from the girl,” Thomas said, entering the room, glaring at MacGyver with complete distrust and contempt.

“What is this impudence?” William asked. “How dare you intrude upon my private residence!”

“I offer you my sincerest apologies, William. However, I come on official business of the utmost importance,” Thomas said, leering.

MacGyver noticed that he was holding Emily’s doll and one of his improvised kitchen contraptions. A great feeling of unease and disquiet filled him as he realized the purpose behind Thomas’s unexpected visit. He was planning on holding an impromptu trial, William’s home serving as the courthouse, the items in his hands evidence, and Thomas himself the judge and jury, prepared to convict him without the slightest modicum of impartiality.

Another man entered the room. He was small in stature but compactly and powerfully built, barrel-chested and with broad, rounded shoulders, resembling a bulldog in appearance not just in body structure but in his face as well, heavy jowls sagging and drooping his skin. He projected strength and authority, his intense dark eyes piercing, his expression brooding and threatening, almost hostile and savage.

“Governor Danforth,” William said, bowing his head in reverence at the formidable, imposing figure of the man. “My apologies. You are most welcome in my home.”

The governor didn’t acknowledge his greeting, instead scrutinizing MacGyver with his stern, flinty eyes, his demeanor remaining cold, his jowly face severe and expressionless. “Is this the man for whom I issued a pardon for the crime of sorcery?” He asked, his voice gruff.

“The very one,” Thomas said, his voice filled with hatred as he continued to glare at MacGyver.

The governor’s basilisk eyes shifted icily towards Emily, watching her as she writhed and moaned, once again revealing no emotion. “This girl appears to be among the afflicted,” he said.

“It is all his doing!” Thomas shouted, pointing at MacGyver. “He hath bewitched her, just as he did to the others similarly afflicted!”

“Now, wait just a minute…” MacGyver said.

“Something in our grain is the cause of all this misery and sorrow, not the work of the devil,” William said, picking up a sample of the infected grain. “See for yourselves.”

Skeptical, Thomas nevertheless snatched the grain sample from William’s hands, examining it closely along with the governor, noticing the dark, discolored blotches.

“You…you have cursed us with this blight!” Thomas shouted, glaring suspiciously once again at MacGyver. “You concocted a potion to bewitch our people using this,” he said, producing the improvised gadget, shaking it angrily, his hands trembling with heated emotion, the object rattling with the force of his movements.

“He has only been trying to help rid us of the toxin,” William said. “He has caused no harm.”

Thomas sneered. “Believe what you will, but he has blinded you to his true intentions with the spell he has cast upon you,” he said, shaking his head. “You disappoint me, William. I would have thought a man in your position could resist the devil’s power, but now I see that he has you within in his grasp. Are you truly so naďve and gullible as to believe his lies? Your own daughter has fallen victim to his evil, yet you still defend him? Why, just a mere few days ago hath I witnessed that sorcerer scheming to ruin her, to tarnish her innocence, forcing her to do his bidding against some poor, tormented soul in the village using this doll as his instrument!” He produced the doll, waving it just as dramatically as he had the improvised gadget, the cloth limbs flopping limply. “Who were you tormenting? I demand to know!”

“No one,” MacGyver said. “I was showing her how to revive someone.”

“Using the spell that you cast on her to return her to life!”

“It’s not a spell!”

William looked at MacGyver, aghast. “When did you do this?” He asked.

“The other night,” MacGyver said.

“I…would not have permitted such a thing.”

“Why? It’s a valuable skill to learn. It could save lives.”

“Do not listen to him! He is attempting to deceive you again, to lead you astray with the seductive promise of knowledge just as Satan tempted Eve with the forbidden fruit that lead to mankind’s downfall in original sin!”

“Oh please…” MacGyver said, rolling his eyes. He realized there was little he could say in his defense, reasoning with such a man an exercise in futility, completely useless. All he could do now was appeal to William’s sense of justice, hoping that once again he could be spared. “Don’t you see? He’s using fear, superstition, and his own flare for the dramatic to control you, to dictate what you should believe! Many rulers and despots during my time have tried that same tactic, and they usually failed, the will of the people and free thought stronger. Please, sir…” he said, looking imploringly at William. “Do not listen to him. Do not allow his exaggerations and appeals to your emotions to sway your opinion.”

William once again looked at his daughter in pity and sorrow. He sighed deeply. “I do not know any longer what to believe,” he said. “I want to believe that you have come to help us, but now I am not so certain. If you could help, why is it that my poor daughter’s condition worsens? Why is it the hysteria and chaos in the village increases with each passing day?”

“He is the cause of it, of that I am certain!” Thomas shouted. “None of this would have happened had we rid ourselves of his evil presence! Instead, you allowed him to influence you, to help him obtain his freedom, to help him escape justice. Now look at the damage he has caused! It could be irreparable!”

“Please,” William said, looking tearfully at MacGyver. “You claim to be from an era far more advanced than ours, yet you have not rid our grain of the poison. My daughter has fallen ill, and you cannot seem to help her, either. If you are what you claim, and you truly want to help us, why have you not been successful with your efforts?”

“Believe me, sir, no one is more sorry than I am that your daughter is suffering,” MacGyver said, looking at her in sympathy. “But these things take time. I can only do so much with the limited tools I have available to me, but I am trying. You have to believe that. Things will improve, I promise you. We will make progress. Your daughter will get well, as will the others in the village who also ingested the toxic grain. You have to believe me, sir. I have nothing but the best intentions at heart, and I am not what Thomas accuses me of being.” He glanced once again at Emily, and then returned to William, sincerity in his dark eyes. “Your daughter would understand what I’m trying to do,” he said. “I’m asking you to continue to trust me and to help me. Together we can accomplish our aims. I need you. I cannot do this alone. It’s up to us to persuade the village and to help them rid their crops of the grain that is the cause of all this. Please, sir. Listen to me.”

“Enough! He is only trying to cast his spell upon you yet again! You must remain strong, William. You must remain firm in your resolve. Do not allow yourself to be defeated. Do not allow your soul to be corrupted by his false sincerity!” Thomas shouted.

“I do not know any more,” William said, hanging his head in despair. “I do not know from whence you came, or what your true intentions are.”

“William, please…” MacGyver said.

“Perhaps there is one more test he can undergo to determine his innocence or guilt,” the governor said, up until that point listening and observing in silence, staring with his unsettling eyes.

“What kind of test?” MacGyver asked, not trusting the man any more than he trusted the duplicitous Thomas.

“Yes, perhaps that is the only way in which to resolve this matter,” William said.

“You’re agreeing to this?” MacGyver asked.

William looked at him sadly. “It is the only way to settle the doubt, suspicion, and uncertainty so many still harbor towards you,” he said. “I want to believe you, my son. I want to trust you, but perhaps if the others were similarly convinced of your innocence, reaching your goals toward helping our people might become much easier to achieve and attain.”

“We don’t even know what kind of test he’s offering to perform,” MacGyver said.

“We can perform it now,” the governor said, grinning shrewdly. “It would require only the smallest amount of time.”

“No, I’m not doing it,” MacGyver said. “Not until I know more details.”

“Then you will die at the gallows,” Thomas said harshly.

“Are you admitting to your guilt?” The governor asked. “What I ask of you is the simplest of tasks.”

“But why can’t I know what the test entails?”

The governor once again grinned slyly. “If you knew, then you could possibly find a way to sway the results in your favor,” he said. “Come. You must want to protest your innocence, to prove it somehow.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do,” MacGyver said.

“Yes, with a varying and unfavorable outcome thus far, from aught I can tell,” the governor said. “If you wish to absolve yourself of the crime of sorcery, you have no other alternative. You must submit to the final test.”

“But you pardoned me.”

“I have since rescinded that pardon,” the governor said, looking at Thomas. “Thomas convinced me that I had made a grievous error. So you see, you life is in a precarious position at the moment. At any time that suits me, I can have you clapped back in irons awaiting execution by hanging. It is only because of my mercy that I am allowing you one more chance to prove your innocence and clear your name of the crimes for which you are accused. Now, my offer stands. Will you subject yourself to the final test, or will you not? I promise you that if you pass this challenge, you will forever be exonerated. No further judgment shall fall upon you. I will allow you to continue to walk freely among us. What sayest thou?”

“It is the only way,” William said.

“But, without having any way of knowing what this test involves, I’m playing right into his hands,” MacGyver said. “He can do anything he wants to me.”

William reached out and clasped his hand strongly, his eyes glistening with tears. “You will survive and endure it, as you have all else, of that I have no doubt,” he said, his voice firm with conviction. “Now, for my sake…for Emily’s sake…please, do it. You must.”

MacGyver was reluctant to agree, but he began to realize his options were decreasing. There was little flexibility allowed in that rigid world, and he knew that the only way to please and satisfy them was to do as they asked, even if it meant more pain, even if it meant death. They would never fully understand what he was trying to do, never believing him, always considering it an act of ill will when it was intended instead to help. Once again he looked at Emily. Her convulsions had ceased, and she had fallen into a disturbed sleep, moaning and whimpering, her face still creased in pain and soaked in sweat.

“All right,” he said quietly, sighing. “I’ll do it.”

***

Somehow, MacGyver knew what he was agreeing to, yet there was no escape, no alternative. He became resigned to his fate. He knew what was about to happen as they stood on the shore of a deep lake, attaching a heavy, leaded ball to the manacles now secured around his ankles. William watched in horror, also knowing what was about to happen, helpless to prevent it. The two men stared at each other for a long time, communicating silently, expressing their regret.

“Now, if you survive, then we shall know you are a sorcerer possessing evil powers,” the governor said. “If you drown, then we shall know you are indeed innocent of the crime as you claim you are.”

“No!” William shouted, unable to contain himself any longer, unable to bear it.

Thomas restrained him. Despite his willowy frame, he was a much stronger man than he first appeared, successfully holding William at bay despite his fiercest struggles.

“Please! I beg of you! What good will this accomplish? It will only lead to his death!”

“Then he will have proved his innocence,” the governor said, shrugging.

“But you will have executed an innocent man! Could you bear to live with that on your conscience? Surely there must be some other way—

“You dare challenge my authority?” the governor roared, showing anger for the first time, his black eyes ablaze. “What is done is done! He will undergo the test!”

“But you said he would be allowed to walk freely among us.”

“Perhaps, one day in the kingdom of heaven.” He nodded at the jailers who had made a reappearance, forging the new manacles around MacGyver’s wrists and ankles and assisting with the test, standing watch in case their unwilling participant chose to run.

MacGyver didn’t want to run. He knew it was impossible, that he would never elude them, never get far without being recaptured, the chains and the added weight slowing and restricting his movements. There was no escape, no tools at his disposal to saw himself free of the heavy, thick chains that now encircled his ankles and wrists. Besides that, he was tired of running. He was tired of trying to prove himself to an intolerant people who refused to listen in a time where he didn’t belong. While the prospect of his impending death should have terrified him, he felt oddly at peace and content, closing his eyes as they draped a black hood over his head.

“No!” He heard William shout, his voice tremulous with emotion. “Please, don’t do this!”

“Throw him in,” the governor ordered the jailers. Nodding, the jailers roughly pushed MacGyver into the water.

As he sank, the weight dragging him farther and farther below the water, the noises of the outside world—the surface world—began to fade, leaving him in almost tranquil silence. Blackness and the unknown surrounded him, water slowly filling his lungs, suffocating him, forcing all oxygen from them. He didn’t struggle, didn’t resist the pull of gravity and the weight, didn’t attempt to swim frantically to the surface, didn’t panic—all fear had left him. He didn’t know what would happen to him after he died, nor did he care. He just continued to allow his body to sink, thinking of Emily, how he had revived her, how she could not return the favor to him, how he was leaving her, leaving William, leaving everything behind…

***

MacGyver awoke with a startled gasp, bolting upright in bed, clutching his sheets tightly in his hands, feeling them saturated with his sweat. Gradually, as he became more aware of his surroundings and regained his bearings, he noticed that he was locked away inside a prison cell again, the bars casting long, ominous shadows across the tiny room where he was being confined.

“No,” he whispered. “It’s not possible, is it? I couldn’t have survived…”

He knew that surviving the ancient test of sorcery that had existed long before the time of the Puritans would only mean certain death. Pacing his cell, breathing deeply, trying to regain full consciousness and make sense of what had happened, he hoped to contact William again, hoped for yet another reprieve that would once again prolong and extend his life.

“William?” He called out, still somewhat dazed and disoriented. “Emily?”

As he paced distractedly, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and bewilderment, he bumped into something cold and hard. Looking down, he saw that it was a chrome toilet. Momentarily confused, he stared at it for a long time. When he looked around fully, taking in more details of the cell, he also noticed a sink. The Puritans did not have indoor plumbing. The more he looked around, the more perplexed he became. He realized that he must have returned to the current era somehow, but for some reason that he failed to grasp, he was in jail.

“Oh, my God…” he whispered. “What is this? This can’t be right….no, what’s happened to me? No…”

He leapt at the bars, tugging on them, feeling their stiffness and impenetrability in the grip of his hands. It was real. He wasn’t caught in another dream. For the first time, panic and fear began to rise in him, not able to understand how he could have been in one place in one moment, about to die, and now he had somehow been transported back to the modern era, in prison as if he were a common criminal, incarcerated for reasons that he could not identify or explain.

“Can you hear me?” He shouted, never feeling more lost and terrified. “Someone? Anyone? Please, help me! You have to get me out of here! Help me, please! Someone tell me what’s going on! Please!”

To be continued…

O_o

Awesome!! This story is becoming more interesting by the minute!!

It should also prove that time travel is a dangerous passtime

Thank you, MacsChick! CAn't wait to read what other surprises you got under your sleeves!

Can't wait for more.