Page 5 of Dancing On Air

“Father, tell him,” Eleanor cried. “Hurry. Whatever it is, let it be Sir Wensel’s decision if he’ll agree to it or not.”

“Wait!” called out Garrett, stopping the executioner once again.

“Dammit, stop stalling,” Sampson ground out. “There is no way this man can escape his death and you know it. He will die for what he did.”

“There is one way he can be spared; however it would have to be up to Sir Wensel if he agrees to the decision or not,” said Garrett loud enough for everyone to hear.

The crowd spoke softly to each other, not understanding what was going on. Neither did Connor.

“Well, what is it?” asked the guard.

“The law states that a condemned noble can only escape his death if he assumes the position of hangman,” said Garrett.

“What?” asked Connor. “Nay,” he said, shaking his head. “No one wants to be the hangman. My father is a respected knight.”

“Not anymore, he isn’t,” said one of the prison guards with a chuckle.

“Really? My life will be spared if I take over the executioner’s job?” Connor’s father looked over at them once again.

“Yes. That is, if the executioner agrees to giving up his position,” said Garrett. “Executioner, what do you say?”

The executioner slowly lowered his sword as well as his hood. “I—I don’t know what to say. I have been the executioner ever since I inherited the job from my deceased father many years ago,” said the man of death. “It is all I’ve ever known my entire life. My father was the town’s butcher at one time, until he was forced to take the job because a hangman was needed.”

“So, what are you saying?” snapped Sampson. “Do you want to keep the job you have or give it up?”

“I would love to live out the rest of my life not being burdened with this awful position again,” said the executioner. Connor swore he saw the man quickly brush a tear away, which surprised him since he didn’t think anything could ever upset a hangman.

“I see. What about you, Sir Wensel? Do you agree to this ridiculous trade?” asked Sampson.

“Wait.” Garrett raised a hand in the air. “Before you answer, Sir Wensel, you must know something. In sparing your life, you will also be condemning the lives of your entire family. You will be forced to give up your title, holdings, money, and all respect. And when you die, your son will need to take your place as the hangman.”

“What?” Connor’s head snapped around. “I don’t want to ever be a hangman. I’m going to be a knight. You know that, Lord Warden.”

“Father, what will this mean for Connor and me if his father agrees to the trade?” Eleanor asked Garrett. “Remember, we’re betrothed.”

“I’m sorry, Daughter, but if Connor’s father agrees to take the position of the executioner, you’ll never be able to see or be with Connor again. The betrothal will be nullified.”

“Nay!” cried Eleanor. “I want to marry Connor. It is what we’ve planned for so long. I want to be his wife someday. I could never stop seeing him. He is my best friend.”

“This is crazy,” Connor complained, not wanting his father to die, but also not wanting to lose Eleanor. It was also horrifying to think his family would lose their titles, holdings, and all respect. Plus, not to mention, any chance of ever being a knight would be gone.

“I—I don’t know what to do,” said his father, his eyes once again settling on Connor. Connor stood frozen, not knowing what to say or how to respond.

“Father, don’t die!” Just then, Connor’s siblings rushed through the crowd, crying and staring up at their father with wide eyes. It about broke Connor’s heart.

“Children,” said Wensel, still in a kneeling position with his hands bound behind him. “Please, leave. I don’t want any of you to watch me die.”

“So, you are choosing to die then?” asked Sampson impatiently. “Make your decision. We are waiting.”

“Connor? Son, tell me what to do,” said Wensel, looking to Connor for his answer. Connor saw his father’s body shaking. This unnerved Connor. His father had always been a strong and confident man until today. He had been the backbone of their family. Now, he shook with fright, not even able to make the decision of what would happen to him and his family. Worst of all, he was asking Connor to make that decision for him.

“Father,” wailed little nine-year-old Leoric. “I’ll save you.” He rushed for the stairs of the platform, but Connor reached out and grabbed his little brother by the arm and held him tightly.

Connor looked over to his sister Francesca, rocking their crying newborn brother Alaric in her arms. The little boy would never have the chance of knowing either of his parents if his father died. That hardly seemed fair. And what would the rest of his sisters and brothers do, being orphans? Connor couldn’t bear to see his siblings split up and placed in the homes of different families to be raised. They wouldn’t even have the luxury of growing up in a castle, as they’d be shunned by the nobles since their father was convicted of murdering a nobleman. Nobody would even want them. Or at least he didn’t think so. Francesca looked over at Connor with tears in her eyes, waiting for him to answer.

“Tell Father to take the trade,” begged Francesca. “Connor, we just lost Mother and cannot lose Father too. We need a father. We can’t survive on our own.”

Leoric struggled against Connor’s hold. His four-year-old sister Ginevra rushed over to him and fell to the ground crying, clinging to Connor’s leg. This was all too much. This was supposed to have been a happy day. Connor had been looking forward to coming to the festival and possibly even kissing Eleanor for the first time. How had things gone wrong so quickly?