Page 27

At the cracked, raw sound of my voice, Otto turned. His summer-green eyes seemed already lifeless. But then his mangled mouth opened. “Fed or dead,” he called to me. He spread his fingers in a helpless kind of way, and he smiled sadly. “I love you, Hannah.”

And then, before I could answer, the executioner sprang the trapdoor.

Otto dropped through it, straight as an arrow.

I shrieked in horror as Otto began to shake and convulse on the end of the rope. I lunged toward him, but the guard swept my legs out from under me with an easy kick. With bound hands, I couldn’t break my fall. I fell sideways, striking my cheek on the ground and sending an explosion of pain through my head. All around me the crowd cheered.

“Look at ’im dance,” someone yelled.

Even from the ground I could see Otto’s legs shaking and his feet spasming. It was the most awful thing I had ever seen. But then they went still—and that was even worse.

My guard kicked me in the side. “You’re next,” he said.

CHAPTER 27

The guards wrenched me to my feet and dragged me up the steps to the gallows. The noise of the crowd grew even louder as I was led toward my beloved’s swinging body, and to the empty noose waiting beside him.

“You’ll look pretty with a rope necklace,” my guard whispered mockingly into my ear. “Of course, that’ll change after you’re dropped. You’ll look likethat.”

He turned me, forcing me to look directly at the man I thought I’d marry. Otto’s face had turned a livid purple, and the sweet hands that had caressed me were limp and lifeless.

It felt like a sword had been driven into my heart. Tears swam in my eyes, and the crowd blurred into a dark, shouting mass.First my sister, and then my love.

Trumpets blared suddenly, and I looked up. The baron had appeared on a wall above the courtyard. He was dark-haired, beardless, and dressed in blood-red silk with a heavy cape of black wool fastened with a silver clasp. He looked nothing like the child I’d once seen riding through my village.

The crowd hushed, waiting for him to speak, while children clambered onto barrels and carts, the better to see what wouldhappen next. But the baron only gazed down at us silently, his expression stony and indifferent.

I felt like screaming at him. Damning him. But I knew that my words—my fate—could not matter to him less.

Then something hit me hard in the arm and fell with a thud at my feet. I looked down to see half a rotting cabbage. Soon great handfuls of food were being thrown at me: leeks, carrots, turnips. A mutton bone with ragged strips of meat and tendon still attached.

If I weren’t about to die, I would’ve laughed at the irony—I was being pelted withsoup ingredients.

I kicked the cabbage back into the crowd. “If you would have brought this to my village,” I shouted, “I wouldn’t be standing here with an executioner slobbering at my back!” I ducked as a hunk of moldy bread came flying at my head. “You strike me with more food than I eat in a week!”

“Shut up, girl,” my guard growled, pushing me toward the noose.

“I came here to steal, I do not deny it! But I didn’t do it because I’m wicked, I did it because I amstarving. My brothers are dead, and my mother drowns in her tears.” I glanced up toward the wall where the baron stood, his face utterly impassive. “Tell me,” I yelled, “how do we survive when we must give the lord of this castle half our crops and livestock as tribute? How do we feed ourselves on the scraps we have left?”

The executioner’s knuckles struck my cheek with a sharp crack. My head snapped around and I started to fall, but he grabbed my arm and righted me, throwing the rope around my neck. I felt his thick, hot fingers digging into my flesh as he adjusted it.

I’m coming, Mary, Belin, Borin! Father—I will see you soon.

“Say your prayers, thief.Silently.”

For once in my life, I was obedient.Dear God in Heaven, my name is Hannah Dory, and I pray you will have mercy on my—

But I couldn’t finish. A sudden, surging life force rose up inside me, and I threw myself at the executioner with all my strength. My forehead connected with his chin, and he stumbled back, arms flailing as he careened into Otto’s body and nearly fell through the trapdoor himself. When he regained his balance, he came at me, his lips curled in a snarl and his face black with rage. The crowd cheered wildly. This was so much better than a hanging! They were going to watch him kill me with his filthy bare hands—

“Stop!” cried a smooth, rich voice. “Stand down.”

The executioner turned away from me with a furious curse.

“Silence!”

Suddenly it seemed as if the whole courtyard was holding its breath. Stunned, I gazed up at the man who had just saved my life. The baron stared back at me.

“We only wanted to be like you,” I cried. “To wake each morning to bread and ale, knowing that we would live through the day. As you would fight for your king, so I would fight for my family. I stole, and I am not sorry.” My throat ached with tears I couldn’t shed. “Death will be easier than what I’ve lived through. I welcome it.”