Blood-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book I ]

73

They went to their deaths hungry and unwashed, like numberless criminals before them.

It was Yorek who came down into the prison, accompanied by no fewer than ten imperial guards. He appeared in the doorway between the stone golems, his eyes wide in the dimness.

"Take them," he said.

Mhera heard Matei's cell door open. He came into view, roughly jerked forward by one of the guards. He did not resist. A second guard stepped up behind him, a length of rope in hand. He bound Matei's wrists behind his back.

She stood up as two guards approached her cell and opened the door. Yorek, standing to one side, looked in at her with disgust, eying the dirty clothes she wore. A moment passed as the guards simply stood there.

"What are you waiting for?" Yorek demanded. "Take her, too!"

Hesitantly, one of them stepped into the cell. They tied her hands behind her back, and she did not resist them. Her mind was still and quiet, even as they took her by the arms and led her out of her cell. She was thinking of what lay ahead.

Zanara grant that this may be the end to it, she prayed, for now. Guide them, Goddess. Guide them to their victory when the time comes.

The stairway to the outside was long and narrow; it was hard to walk abreast. Yorek went first, followed by three of the guards; then came Matei, pushed slightly ahead of his wardens, who walked shoulder to shoulder. After him came Mhera, struggling to walk while her escorts pushed her ahead. The last three guards were at the rear.

As they progressed up the stair, Matei spoke. "Ten men for one broken-down rebel and a lady? Damn, Yorek—you take no chances."

The councilor did not dignify the mockery with a response. Mhera wondered if he noticed that Matei knew his name.

When they emerged into the morning, the light was blinding. Mhera closed her stinging eyes and turned her face toward her shoulder. Even before she could see, she heard the roaring of a crowd some distance away.

They were in the blacksmith's courtyard. The guards followed Yorek, turning to the left and walking along the shaded alleyway toward the Sovereign Square. They emerged into the crowd, which parted to permit them passage. Mhera tried not to look around. Her bravery was deserting her now, when she needed it the most. The staring faces, Starborn and Arcborn alike, turned to watch them. She looked only at the back of Matei's head, grasping desperately for the peace and the calm she had felt up until this moment.

She spoke a prayer into the silence of her heart. Take us, Zanara, our Mother. Don't forsake us now. Please let me be brave. Let me face this; let there be peace.

As the folk parted to let the soldiers through, Mhera saw a familiar platform erected in front of the statues of the Blessed Sovereigns. The crowd stretched beyond in a sea of mingled faces, staring and talking and shouting. The executioner stood on the platform, his sheathed sword at his belt.

Next to him was the emperor himself. The rest of the royal family, except for Kaori, was assembled on the steps of the palace. Yorek was there with a man Mhera recognized despite the long years that had passed since last she saw his face: Archmage Jaeron.

She searched, but did not see the faces of her parents. She wondered if they knew what would happen here today. They must not. No message could reach them in the space of a night, wherever they were. Even if they knew, she did not know if they would care. They could not take her side. Not against the emperor.

Gella was there, though; she stood behind the small figure of Kochan, Koren's son, and Mhera could not see her expression from so far away.

The guards took Matei and Mhera up the stairs. As they stepped onto the platform, Korvan did not look at either of them. When they reached the center of the platform, each of them held fast by their pair of guards, Korvan stepped forward.