Sarah of Salem – The Tribunal

An adult stories – Sarah of Salem – The Tribunal by chymera,chymera In the gray dawn, the drizzle turned into a light rain, as the coven intoned a farewell spell to lay Penelope to rest. My mother-in-law had finally succumbed to her cancer. Her cancer that was brought on by her destruction of my children, by her curse to prevent my wife from conceiving from my seed.

I had once loved my mother-in-law; I’d once seen her as a loving grandmother, a concerned mother, and a ferocious cribbage opponent. But once I had learned of her interference in my life, of her evil curse, I cursed her. I cursed her, but it meant nothing since I have no power; that all lies with my wife, her children and her family. All I could do was forbid that evil scourge from entering our home.

That in itself was strange. Our home was actually my wife’s family’s house and my wife’s mother had a right to it, while I had no right to the house. But the house was enchanted or spellbound, alive with its own awareness and personality. When I had returned to my wife, the house had, for lack of a better word, adopted me. It had become very protective of me, and when I told my wife that her mother was no longer welcome, the house thereafter refused to open any door to Penelope. All her magic couldn’t budge the old house.

The house had originally disliked me, making me bump my head on doorways which seem ever lower until I couldn’t seem to bend enough to enter a room unscathed. I had lumps on my head until my wife threatened the house with a major remodel. Then it left me alone. But over the years, it came to appreciate me and, according to my wife, was almost forlorn when I went away.

Love is strange. My wife and I have always had a connection, even as children and although our four children where not genetically mine, my wife believes that my love for them, even when they were in her womb, forged connections with them, connections which are precious and rare even in the witching communities. Our connections pulled me back after I had run in horror from my wife’s infidelity — an infidelity thrust on her by the Hexing Families Tribunal. The Tribunal refused to continence our marriage unless Sarah, my wife, submitted to their Samhain breeding program. They’d gone further and threatened my life and wellbeing. My wife submitted and when I found out about her infidelities, when I found out that my children were not mine, I fled, and stayed away for years. But our connections, my wife’s and my children’s and mine, pulled me home.

I think the house even chipped in.

But my mother-in-law’s spells had forced my wife to unknowingly abort my offspring and Penelope had finally cursed her to not conceive from my seed at all. She did it, my wife says, to protect us from the Tribunal, but I have never been able to forgive her. Now I stand behind the coven as my wife’s mother is lowered into her grave. I was here for Sarah, who despite everything, loved her mother.

The coven performed the ceremony and over a hundred witches attended, including the five members of the Tribunal. Alatar, the head of the Tribunal, approached my wife after the ceremony, offering his condolences. My wife’s eyes flared with hatred of this man who had interfered with our lives, but she calmly accepted his words, words that seem to me, perfunctory.

Then he smirked at my wife and said, “Of course now, you’ll return to the Samhain ceremonies.” My wife looked up in horror as I stepped forward.

“No, she will not. She’ll not be your whore anymore!” I yelled at the warlock. The crowd turned towards us.

“Don’t try to defy me, mundane.” Alatar sneered, staring at my outstretched hand. I felt my index finger begin pointing upwards unbidden by me. Then it continued, bending back towards my wrist. I grabbed it with my other hand, but couldn’t stop its backward movement.

“Stop!” my son Blaise yelled as he jumped between the warlock and me, but not before a crack was heard and I screamed as I dropped to the ground, clutching my broken finger.

“You’d defy me, as well?”, yelled Alatar, and Blaise screamed as he clutched his head and fell to the ground beside me. My wife and daughters rushed to his and my aid, as the warlock once again told Sarah, “You will be at the Samhain celebration, or your family will be back here at another funeral.”

He turned and marched away, followed by the other four Tribunal members. The other witches, including Sarah’s nine aunts, drifted away in the gray gloom, leaving my family alone, by the gravesite.

Sarah looked at me as I cried in pain from the broken finger, even as I attempted to help Blaise. He was still clutching his head, but his pain seemed to be easing. My suffering renewed with every motion I made.

Sarah looked into my eyes and said, “May I?” She no longer tried to control my mind or even influence my emotions. She knew I thought that evil and still had resentment for her previous meddling with my mind.

But now I just dumbly nodded. “Please,” came out of my mouth in a moan.

Sarah’s gaze intensified and suddenly, my pain was gone. She gently took my hand, and pulled the finger back into place, setting the bone. She told me to use my other hand to hold my index finger against my middle finger, until she could tape them up. Then she helped the dazed but recovering Blaise to his feet and we exited the cemetery.

When we got home, the house sensed our pain and shut all the doors and shuttered all the windows. We were in fortress mode.

My wife wept as she taped my fingers. “I can’t do that again. I won’t do that again.” She wailed in anguish. “But how do I protect you?” she cried.

I asked Blaise what had happened to him. “Dad, it was like my mind was being squeezed. Not my brain, really, my mind. My thoughts, my powers, I felt them being crushed. I don’t think I would have survived it if Alatar hadn’t stopped when he did.” I saw my daughters all shiver at their brother’s words.

“Well,” I said, “I don’t want any of you children becoming involved in a confrontation with the Tribunal, especially not with Alatar. It would kill your mother and me if any of you were hurt.”

They all protested, but their mother and I quieted them and sent them to bed. Nothing was going to happen or be settled that evening.

Sarah and I also went to bed, and gently made love, with sadness and worry giving a strange color to the act. We’d made love and had sex a lot since I had returned, even though it remained forefront in our minds that because of her mother’s curse, the act itself was sterile. I loved my wife and could feel her sadness at her failure to conceive. I knew she could feel my anguish as well.

As Samhain approached, my family became quieter and remained homebound. It was as if we were afraid to leave the house, hoping that somehow the building could protect us. My wife and I remained steadfast in our determination to defy the Tribunal. I told my wife that I loved her but would rather die than have her submit to their debauchery again. She spent her time researching spells and curses with our children, hoping to find some defense.

In the end, there was none. We remained in our shut-up house that Halloween, porch light dark and without decorations. My wife and I spent the night in each other’s arms, making love for what would be the last time before the Tribunal struck.

They didn’t come on All Saints’ Day to deal with our defiance. They waited until All Souls’ Day.

Alatar stood in front of the other four, who lined up behind him, facing our front door. I told Sarah I wouldn’t cower inside the house. The house refused to open the door at first, until I asked if it expected me to be a coward. “Was that what you think of me?” Plus, I knew the Tribunal would attack the house if I hid inside, and I didn’t want the old guy hurt on my account. I guess I loved the house, as well.

Reluctantly, the door swung open. My wife and I went out on our porch, facing Alatar, who sneered, “So, the condemned voluntarily show up for the execution?”

“Get on with it, Asshole,” I shouted. Not the most famous last words, but what the heck, I’m only mundane.

Alatar raised his arms, as did his cronies, and I felt, as Blaise had, my mind being squeezed. The pain was incredible. My eyes bugged out as I stared in fear at the attacking wizards. Out of a red haze that filled my vision, I suddenly could see red lines connecting the Tribunal to Alatar, and could see the thread with which he attacked me.

Before the Tribunal could pronounce their killing spell, my children ran out and lined up beside their mother and me.

“Get back inside,” I demanded in a painful croak, but I saw that Blaise and his sisters weren’t listening to me. They had a look of concentration focused on Alatar.

Surprise spread on the warlock’s face and my mind was partially released. I saw Alatar’s expression turn to anger, and saw his concentration as he beckoned to his fellows. The red connection lines grew darker emanating from the Tribunal members and descending on Alatar.

Then he lashed out with bright red lines reaching out for my children and my wife. They screamed, like Blaise had at the cemetery.

I gasped. My heart threatened to burst with the fear that gripped me at my family’s suffering.

I began to see our connection materialize, like the connection Alatar was sharing with his coven. An orange line ran from each of my suffering children to me, and from my wife to me. I felt a sense of power and tried to draw on that connection. I directed my anger at Alatar. He staggered in surprise, and the red lines disappeared.

He looked at me in amazement and I focused a pulse of energy towards him. He staggered again, but then focused on me and I felt a wave of disabling pain squeezing my mind once again. I drew more on the power of my family. The orange lines grew brighter. But I could feel Alatar trying to crush my soul. Everything started to grow dark. I tried to push back, but could feel my will being crushed.

Then suddenly a new connection attached itself to me.

This new connection was stronger than what I shared with each of my children; it was even stronger than what I shared with Sarah. I could see it as a thick, bright orange line. I felt the fist that had enveloped my mind being pushed back. I started focusing pulse after pulse at Alatar, and I could see my orange line envelope him and go past him to the rest of the Tribunal, our orange overcoming the Tribunal’s red connections.

The connections from my wife and children rebounded as Alatar’s attack on them was destroyed, and the new connection I had made also seemed to grow stronger. The orange lines brightened and glowed as the Tribunal members screamed and fell to the ground, clutching their heads.

I continued putting as much pressure as I could on them, throwing pulse after pulse. I don’t know how I did it, I had just let my hate for these men loose.

I felt my wife grab my arm and heard her say, “Enough! You have to stop!”

I looked at my wife as exhaustion overcame me. I limped weakly to the rocker on the porch and collapsed into it. My wife went to the aid of the men lying on the ground. She was helping them sit up as their pain eased, as had Blaise’s in the cemetery.

Alatar rudely shoved my wife away, cursing her and rising to his feet. He focused on me, and I braced for his sudden attack to hit me.

But it didn’t. A look of befuddlement clouded his countenance. He focused again, and again, but couldn’t bring the pain to me.

“It’s gone,” he wailed. “It’s all gone. My power — it’s gone.”

It turned out to be true for all the Tribunal. Their powers had been burned out of their minds. I stood up on the porch and glared at them. I laughed as Alatar, and his friends ran away in fear.

I hugged my wife. I said, “What happened? How did I do that?”

My wife looked thoughtful as she puzzled it out. “I’d heard of mundanes channeling witch powers in the past. It occurs when a greater power exists.”

“What? What power?” I asked.

She laughed. “I always thought it was a corny fairy tale, but they say it’s the greatest power in the universe.” She reached up and kissed me. “Love. Love is the strongest power in all of Nature.”

I collapsed back into the rocker, pulling my wife down onto my lap. I smiled at her.

“Your mother’s curse ended when she died, didn’t it?”

Her head popped up from my chest in surprise. She looked in my eyes and said, “It could have. It would depend on how she framed the curse.” She shook her head. “Why do you think it ended?”

I swept Sarah up in my arms. “Because my love, you’re pregnant!”

I told her about the new connection that had tipped the balance in our favor. I told her about being able to see the power lines between all the players that day. Then I told her that I had seen the power line for the new connection that burst out of her belly.

“That’s our daughter!” I laughed with joy. Sarah hugged me tighter and cried.


With the destruction of the Tribunal, the Hexing Families approached Sarah to head a new tribunal, recognizing the power our family exhibited in vanquishing Alatar and his coven. The new Tribunal was formed with her children. She had offered me a seat, but I refused.

My family ended the breeding program, although the Samhain ceremonies continued on a voluntary basis. Witches just love a good party.

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