Page 51 of Given to the Black King

A woman in the gallery begins to cry.

Torgan looks toward the sound, then back at the captain. “The bread belonged to the people who burned with it.”

The captain says nothing.

“Eleven names,” Torgan says to Ghenn.

Ghenn reads them.

A mother and two sons. An old couple. A baby. Five more.

The widow closes her eyes when she hears the last name.

Torgan waits until Ghenn finishes.

Then he says, “Take his head.”

The guards move the captain to the block.

My hands lock in my skirts.

I could look away. Nobody would blame a southern envoy for it.

The widow does not look away.

Neither do I.

The blade falls once.

The boy with the sand runs forward before the body stops moving.

My stomach turns. Perr makes a small sound beside me and presses a hand over his mouth.

Torgan does not look at me.

Ghenn says, “The lieutenant held the torch. Three witnesses.”

“Send him back with the body,” Torgan says. “Give him the list of names. He reads it in the square every first day for a year.”

“Alive?”

“Yes.”

The guards carry the basket away.

Torgan pulls the next petition toward him. “Bridge tolls.”

The hall moves on.

I cannot.

Ten minutes later, without changing his voice, he tells Orrick to have an extra brazier placed in my working gallery because the frost is coming early.

I stare at him.

He feels it and finally looks toward me.

I do not know what is on my face.