Page 38 of Damnation
“Salem needs us, dare I say Massachusetts needs us. This is not just an agreement, not just a promise to remain a faithful servant to God. This is a promise to remain a faithful servant to each other, to the brotherhood, to our safety.”
To my surprise, a few uneasy looks pass upon faces, and I waste not a moment in calling such out.
“Why do you look to me in such a way, Ingersoll?”
He appears spooked as he looks around the room before shaking his head.
“I am unable to understand why we need to promise so much. Does it not feel as if we are taking another religion?”
“Blasphemy!” I scoff. “This be not a religion, but a community…a society operated in secret. One that will protect the town of Salem, that will seek out evil and deliver justice in God’s name. Tell me this, do you think the Nurse family will not come for us? For we all know, they harbor hate towards us all. And the Carys? Ushers? Aldens? What of those who escaped before and during the arrests? Every man, woman, and child is a threat until we deem otherwise. Just because the Governor dubs the trials over, does not make it so. If we allow them to strike first, it shall be our necks snapped at Gallows Hill, mark every word I speak.”
Understanding begins to fill the room as several heads nod. To my surprise, the first to rise to his feet in support is Parris. I thought the goody reverend would struggle with such a premise.
He extends his hand for my own, shaking it as he speaks.
“I shall follow you anywhere you lead.”
“As will I,” Edward says as he too stands.
“And I,” Griggs agrees.
Preston and Hutchinson look to each other before standing. Then, one by one, Ingersoll, Walcott, Lewis, and finally Stroughton all rise to their feet. My eyes meet each, silently thanking them for their commitment. Together, we have some of the strongest families of Salem. Together, we have the most impassioned members of our community. With their support, we will create a group that not only protects, but thrives, far from the government’s reach. We shall be an operation of our own support. A society. A brotherhood.
The Brethren.
Extended Epilogue
Thomas Putnam III
July 25th, 1699
‘Tis my eighteenth birthday on this summer evening, though it feels as if it is a day not worth celebrating. The wake of my father’s death has rocked the very core of Salem. Though nearly two months have passed, life has not quite moved past his legacy. My mother is distraught and unwell, my siblings are filled with a mixture of emotions, but it is the town who suffers the most. He was not just a wealthy influence, he was a leader, a guide, a savior.
The trials may have ended seven years ago, but his work was far from over. With the end of the trials came the birth of something greater, something holier, something everlasting.
The Brethren has been built brick by brick at the hands of my father and the others who have dubbed themselves the Elders. Each family has taken up position inside the town’s hierarchy, far more encompassing than just businessmen and landowners. They are investigators, protectors, and executioners.
My father did not allow me knowledge of Brethren business until three years ago. As they were constructing Gallows Hill University, he sat me and my brothers down to explain the work he has created. The university took years to construct, a massive structure that no other town in the New World has been blessed with yet. Not only is the building of impressive nature, designed to train and groom only the best of future generations, but the significance of the land is pertinent. Built upon the graves of those tried, the university stands proudly upon Gallows Hill, forever a reminder of the sacrifice and determination the Elders have made and continue to make to protect us from our enemies.
My attendance at Gallows Hill commences with the coming of fall, but as the heir of my father’s title and position inside the Brethren, my work has just begun. True to his suspicions and concerns, a force has been created. Escapees, descendants of those tried, and some we never even suspected, have rallied together. They call themselves the Coven. As if that wasn’t the clearest proof of the evil they embody.
They seek revenge for the justice that has been served. They are in search of revenge. If only they weren’t half as intelligent as us with a quarter of our numbers. We are stronger, smarter, and larger than they shall ever be, and we are growing by the day. I have sent letters to influential families we are close with in Boston as well as New York, inviting them to join our society. My father wished to keep the Brethren private, to only include the Elder families, but I say to hell with that. Strength is in numbers, and power is in the size of your influence. Besides, he is now unable to make decisions as he rots in the earth with those who have fallen before him.
A new order is rising from what he has built, and with my direction, we shall transform the Brethren into a society greater than any monarchy, any society that has ever been. We shall rule with the power of the Egyptians, the strength of the Romans,and protect the values of England herself. Under God and for his name, we shall cleanse this land, and the next, and we shall not stop until every last witch be charred and beneath the dirt.
I twist the ring he hand commissioned for himself and the others around my finger. The curled B stamped upon the precious metal gleams in the glow of the torch lit room as I wait for the others to join. This shall be our first meeting since my father’s passing, and only my second that I am witnessing, let alone in control of.
As the others file through the tunnels and into the room, they each take their seats at the table, their heirs standing behind them as I have instructed them to do so. Until tonight, I was the only heir to have been afforded the privilege of attending a meeting. Another change I am seeing to.
“Brothers, welcome. It pains me greatly to be here in place of my father, who was truly a great man.”
The words are only half truth. As a man, he was truly great. As a father…he was a swine at best.
“Why hast thou demanded our young be invited?” Walcott snaps.
I turn to him, lifting an eyebrow as I look upon Lenord, my best friend and his son. He takes a step behind his father, clasping his shoulder with a swift grip as he nods.
“So that we shall be well trained and ready for when your time of passing arrives.”
