Before she could think more on it or decide what to do, Iona tapped her shoulder. Neala turned to see her friend looking a little uncertain.
"There's… someone else in the carriage," Iona said. "But she's nae… well, ye should go talk tae her."
"Elspeth?" Neala asked with another surge of excitement and hope. "Is it Elspeth?
Iona nodded, but she wasn't smiling. "Just… go speak tae her, aye?"
Burning with curiosity and anticipation, Neala hurried over to the carriage and climbed inside. Elspethwasthere, sitting with her face peering out of the far window and not moving at all. Neala paused, confused.
"Elspeth?" No response. "Elspeth, please look at me. What's goin' on?"
At long last, her friend turned around to look at her. She didn't seem hurt or sick, but her cheeks were pale and her shoulders shook. "Neala," Elspeth whispered. Then her words were lost.
Elspeth was crying.
Ansel woke up with a start. He groaned as his stiff body screamed in protest as he tried to move, and he rubbed his hands together to try to get some warmth back into him. The sun was high in the sky, perhaps close to noon, and he cursed himself for falling asleep here on the battlements. Luckily, nobody seemed to have found him here. On the other hand, he'd missed Baldric's signal, and he had no idea how their plan had unfolded.
Stretching and yawning, Ansel got to his feet. He felt light in his heart, not nearly as troubled as he had expected he would be. Regardless of the fact that he'd decided he must serve his father no matter what, he still knew that he'd done the right thing by letting those Sparrows fly from their cages. He and Baldric had been careful to make sure Ansel's name was nowhere near what had happened and that none of the actions could be traced back to him. Still, the whole thing had been Ansel's idea, and he'd carefully and meticulously planned every step. Now that it was morning, he would go and find Baldric and hear exactly how it had gone.
He'd only gotten a few steps along the battlements when he heard the commotion coming from the courtyard. A mix of indistinct voices filled the air, some jeering and many others talking in voices that ranged from fury to fear to upset to glee. It wasn't unusual for the king to gather people in the courtyard for a speech or a punishment, though Ansel did note that the reaction seemed more mixed than usual. Maybe Edric had discovered that the Sparrows had escaped, though Ansel doubted it. His father would never publicly announce that he'd lost his enemies.
Curious, Ansel made his way inside the building and down the stairs. It was strange that Edric had started the speech or rally or whatever it was without Ansel there. He usually took pride in having his son by his side. Perhaps he was still angry about the failed attack on the village and the loss of Nessa, but Edric had always enjoyed showing off his strong, powerful heir before now. Ansel reached the ground floor of the castle and paused, trying to decide if it was worth going outside to see what was going on or if he should just find something else to do. After a night outside, he would appreciate the chance to rest.
Just as he'd decided, though, someone called out his name. Ansel turned to see Ruadh running toward him, his face paper-white under his red hair. The young soldier still wore a bandage around his head, but he was no worse for wear after the damage he'd received on the hill that day. He was panting as though he had been hurrying around the castle for a long time.
"There ye are. I've been lookin' all over for ye," Ruadh said, his voice strained. "Yer Highness… Ansel… dinnae ye ken what's happenin'?"
"A rally of some sort, I assume," Ansel replied indifferently. "I didnae get an invitation, and that's fine by me. I think I'll miss it."
Ruadh shook his head frantically. "Nay. It isnae a rally. It's an execution."
Ansel's muscles tensed all at once as his brain processed the implication. There had been no execution scheduled any time soon, and the most important prisoners in the dungeon had escaped the night before. Which meant…
He swore and started running, not knowing or caring if Ruadh was following. He burst out of the doors and into the courtyard to find it crowded right to the edges, people shouting and protesting what was happening even as others cheered. The smell of rage and frenzy clogged the air. Many of the castle's women were weeping, and many of the soldiers looked drawn and pale. All eyes were drawn to the platform at the far end of the courtyard where Edric stood with his victim at his side.
"...and let this be a lesson tae ye all thatnaetraitor will be protected!" Edric was shouting as Ansel got outside. "Nae blood nor connection is enough tae excuse the betrayal of yer king and country! I will protect me people from this cowardly slime, even at great personal cost!"
Some people cheered, but more called out in anger. The voices around Ansel were an angry buzz. He could not make out any of their words as his eyes focused on the platform.
Baldric stood there, his usually carefully tousled hair matted with blood and half his face blackened by a blossoming bruise. He was stooping though he tried to stand tall. Ansel's stomach lurched, the bile burning his throat as he stared at the beaten, broken figure of his cousin.
"Nay," he whispered, then raised his voice to a shout. "Nay! Stop this!"
His words were drowned out by the crowd. Ansel swore and pushed through the people in front of him, fighting to get to the front while the crowd seemed to tighten around him like a restriction. It was like swimming through mud, desperately shoving people aside, tripping over things on the ground, losing sight of his direction. All the while, Edric kept speaking.
"The time has come!" Edric announced. "Nephew, dae ye have anythin' last tae say in yer defense?"
"I seek nae yer forgiveness or yer mercy." Baldric's voice was quiet, but it somehow echoed around the crowd. "I want nothin' from ye but yer failure. Aye, I freed those Sparrows—and I sent with them the knowledge the True King needs tae bring this accursed castle tae dust."
The noise of the crowd grew louder, and there was a hard thud and a grunt of pain as Edric attacked Baldric with the blunt end of the axe. Ansel, who had stopped upon hearing Baldric's voice, started moving again, pushing harder to get to the front. He didn't know what he could do, but he knew he had to act soon. But nobody would let him pass, and he found himself trapped in the middle of the crowd.
"Move!" he shouted, shoving out with his elbows. "Move!"
"On yer knees!" the king roared. "I gave ye me name. I gave ye everythin'! Ye have tainted the Ashkirk legacy, and ye willnae be allowed tae live."
"Then let me blood be the first spilled from yer failin' legacy," Baldric spat. Ansel stopped again, craning his head above thecrowd to see. His cousin was shoved to his knees by one of the king's men, and he knelt before a block, staring out into the crowd. "Ansel. I ken ye're there. I need ye tae listen tae me before I go."
"The lad didnae bother showin' up, or he'd slay ye himself for yer betrayal," the king hissed. "I'll nae let ye corrupt me son anymore. I ken ye've been behind his failin's—and now he will be free tae be me heir as he should."
