marketplace as well as a centre for celebrations and festival dance. On days like these, it was also used for executions. Jedda recognised faces that had fought against her on behalf of Ianna in the square. Her heart screamed that they were traitors who would see her murdered for their own ends. But as she looked into their downcast faces and wet eyes, she saw the truth. War was coming; she knew that as well as they did. The Fallen One was awakening, and all that stood between him and the Three Kingdoms was Highmount. Better Ianna on the throne, who would fight tooth and claw to keep the darkness out, than a civil war that would tear apart the city and possibly even spread into the Three Kingdoms. Her own eyes tearing, she nodded to those who had fought against her, and she hoped they saw her understanding.
The cart clattered to a halt.
In the centre of the square, where dancing-poles and braces of fireworks had often been assembled, were three stakes. Bundles of kindling and sticks had been piled at the foot of each one. Two of the stakes were already taken by Jorra and Kalla: Earlwoman and Earlman of Thanehold. They had given Jedda their swords when all others sided with Ianna. They were blindfolded, and they wore the same thin cotton shifts as Jedda. She wanted to call out to them, to say something, but her mouth was as dry as the rickety old wood of the cart from which she was led by the hand to her stake. Clouds were gathering overhead, dark and threatening. Jedda sent up a wish for the rains to fall and douse the flames that were to come. She was bound to the stake by the rough hands of hooded men. She could feel their fear in each trembling fumble of their knot tying. She was still Ferra’s heir, sentenced to burn for treason or not. A blindfold was placed over her eyes, but she shook her head hard before they could tie it in place. They drew hard breaths at her gesture and withdrew themselves. Jedda looked up to see Ianna there, stepping out of her sedan chair and not even sparing a glance for the gathered nobles and common folk. She had eyes for no-one but Jedda—the girl who had run screaming up the steps to the throne, sword drawn, to run her through. Jedda thought that, in her place, Ianna would not be so bold as to refuse the blindfold.
One of the hooded men strode over to Ianna and fell on one knee, knuckling the ground. The wind, damp and heavy, blustered around the square now, stealing away the words exchanged between Ianna and the executioner. Jedda saw him nod, arise, and bow before retreating into the shadows. The shadows came alight and burned as three executioners strode out of them, all bearing torches bound with cloth and soaked heavily in oils to keep the flames strong in the bad weather. They approached. Jedda felt her muscles harden as she watched the flickering fire that would soon ignite the kindling bunched around her. She drew in a breath and, raising her voice until her throat hurt, she addressed the gathering.
“Good people, I am condemned and come here to die. The fact of my treason is known to you, and my consenting thereunto. But of my desire and will to do wrong by those of you who would see the Three Kingdoms rightly defended against the coming darkness, I wash my hands and state my innocence. I would see you all saved, and if this comes to pass by my death, then let it be done.”
A hush fell before the gathering darkness of the storm, disturbed only by a few sobs from men and women alike. The square was a tableau, only the flames of the torches seemed to move at all, threatening to be extinguished by the damp gusts of wind. As Jedda’s eyes travelled over the waiting crowd, she saw a pale-faced girl with strange eyes that shone like amethyst jewels. The girl was watching her and Jedda found her mouth moving of its own volition, forming four words.
We will meet again.
Then, the girl was gone.
Who was she?
“Men of the Black Hood, do your duty,” Ianna said before bowing her
The cart clattered to a halt.
In the centre of the square, where dancing-poles and braces of fireworks had often been assembled, were three stakes. Bundles of kindling and sticks had been piled at the foot of each one. Two of the stakes were already taken by Jorra and Kalla: Earlwoman and Earlman of Thanehold. They had given Jedda their swords when all others sided with Ianna. They were blindfolded, and they wore the same thin cotton shifts as Jedda. She wanted to call out to them, to say something, but her mouth was as dry as the rickety old wood of the cart from which she was led by the hand to her stake. Clouds were gathering overhead, dark and threatening. Jedda sent up a wish for the rains to fall and douse the flames that were to come. She was bound to the stake by the rough hands of hooded men. She could feel their fear in each trembling fumble of their knot tying. She was still Ferra’s heir, sentenced to burn for treason or not. A blindfold was placed over her eyes, but she shook her head hard before they could tie it in place. They drew hard breaths at her gesture and withdrew themselves. Jedda looked up to see Ianna there, stepping out of her sedan chair and not even sparing a glance for the gathered nobles and common folk. She had eyes for no-one but Jedda—the girl who had run screaming up the steps to the throne, sword drawn, to run her through. Jedda thought that, in her place, Ianna would not be so bold as to refuse the blindfold.
One of the hooded men strode over to Ianna and fell on one knee, knuckling the ground. The wind, damp and heavy, blustered around the square now, stealing away the words exchanged between Ianna and the executioner. Jedda saw him nod, arise, and bow before retreating into the shadows. The shadows came alight and burned as three executioners strode out of them, all bearing torches bound with cloth and soaked heavily in oils to keep the flames strong in the bad weather. They approached. Jedda felt her muscles harden as she watched the flickering fire that would soon ignite the kindling bunched around her. She drew in a breath and, raising her voice until her throat hurt, she addressed the gathering.
“Good people, I am condemned and come here to die. The fact of my treason is known to you, and my consenting thereunto. But of my desire and will to do wrong by those of you who would see the Three Kingdoms rightly defended against the coming darkness, I wash my hands and state my innocence. I would see you all saved, and if this comes to pass by my death, then let it be done.”
A hush fell before the gathering darkness of the storm, disturbed only by a few sobs from men and women alike. The square was a tableau, only the flames of the torches seemed to move at all, threatening to be extinguished by the damp gusts of wind. As Jedda’s eyes travelled over the waiting crowd, she saw a pale-faced girl with strange eyes that shone like amethyst jewels. The girl was watching her and Jedda found her mouth moving of its own volition, forming four words.
We will meet again.
Then, the girl was gone.
Who was she?
“Men of the Black Hood, do your duty,” Ianna said before bowing her
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