The magistrate’s assistant walked slowly forward and removed a burlap hood, along with two lengths of rope from a sack hanging over his shoulder. Standing before Ester, he pulled the hood over her head and used one length of rope to secure it in place around her neck. With the second rope, he tied her wrists together at her navel, then looped the rough hemp around her waist and knotted it tightly, so she could not raise her arms.

Now completely blind and unable to protect herself, Ester was marched silently through the woods toward town. A hand around her arm prevented her from falling whenever she stumbled on the unseen path. When they reached town, the mood of the entire party changed, and she was handled roughly as she was finally pushed into a dank cell, where she was left, still restrained, to await her fate. Blind and unable to move her hands above her waist, Ester shuffled her way around the narrow cell until she felt a small pile of rushes scattered over the stone floor. Blocking thoughts about the age or cleanliness of the straw from her mind, she allowed herself to slowly drop to the rushes and lay down on the damp pallet. She heard the sound of tiny feet scurrying over the stone floor as she tried to relax, knowing she would need all of her strength to get through the coming days.

Ester slept in short fitful intervals that first night of her captivity. At some point during the long hours she spent shivering in the dark, one of her jailers entered the cell and cut the rope around her wrists. When she awoke, curled into a fetal position, her head resting on her hands, she realized her arms were free, so she immediately untied and removed the hood. Ester gasped when she opened her eyes and discovered she was still just as blind in the pitch black cell, as she had been while wearing the hood.

Over the next week, she quickly learned the routine that would govern her imprisonment. Each morning she was forced to stand against the back wall, while a small amount of nondescript food was placed in the cell. Ester would attack the meager meal as soon as the cell door closed, devouring every last morsel, as she was only given one meal a day. Some days, that was the only time she saw another human being. Those were the good days. Most days, however, the magistrate, the town priest, the physician and a scribe would come to Ester’s cell and the “witch testing” would begin.

During the days she was left alone, Ester thought about her youth; she would think back and replay those happier times in her mind’s eye. Although her life had never been easy, her parents had tried to make it a happy one for their only child. Their small family had lived in the woods, keeping themselves separated from the town. Her parents had taught Ester all of their religious beliefs and rituals, but the lessons had been taught in secret, and she learned quickly that her parent’s beliefs were not popular in town.