Chapter 6 #2
Once Fig finished explaining, everyone nodded before dispersing swiftly. Unable to stand still any longer, I stalked through the crowd toward the gallows, feeling more agitated than I’d been in a long time.
A murmur went through the masses as I was still trying to find the best position. I spun around because the level of noise could only mean one thing.
I glanced at the gallows and indeed noticed some movement. Two men entered the small stage. I assessed the sturdy, elderly man wearing a remarkable beard and the well-to-do older male of similar build and found them both wanting. Neither of them posed a serious threat to me.
Behind the stage, guards were holding a small form, shackled and their head covered with rough fabric. I couldn’t get a good view from my position, but considering the burning feeling in my guts, it was clear I had to hurry.
I moved on with urgency as the voice of the bearded man, who turned out to be the mayor of this shithole of a town, boomed over the square. I sneered, instantly disliking him. His voice held the distinctive tone of someone who thought of himself as too important.
“Citizens of Credenta. It has been four peaceful winters without a serious crime in our beautiful town. This glorious streak is sadly over. Three days ago, Jelric Feroy, son of Perran Feroy, King of Merchants,” he motioned to the other man on stage who radiated severe anger, “was slaughtered. The investigation concluded that he fell victim to a depraved act of jealousy committed in cold blood. The murderer was no one else but his own betrothed.”
I frowned. What the mayor announced didn’t fit with what we’d found out.
The crime scene I’d examined, the coroner’s report, as well as the corpse Antas had checked—all that didn’t exactly hint at homicide.
I was missing some pieces of the puzzle, and I couldn’t fathom what they were.
But I didn’t care too much about that. My instincts governed me anyway.
I had to concentrate on what was happening instead of solving this particular mystery.
I continued stalking through the crowd and found an excellent vantage position directly to the left of the small stage, where I could ensure no one would pay attention to me.
The mayor motioned to the guards, who dragged the tiny figure on the stage. “For the murder of Jelric Feroy, the town of Credenta convicts Nayana Garnet Ortha to the gallows.”
A collective gasp went through the crowd. The mayor wore a sick smile, and a guard ripped the sack from the convict’s head.
The moment the fabric was gone, the world around me came to a standstill, and my entire focus centered on the tiny female on stage.
Because when I laid my eyes on the convicted woman, I knew without a single doubt that my initial intuition had been correct.
It was as if past, present, and future aligned with each other, and for one glorious moment in time, everything made sense.
Much too quickly, my epiphany faded, the message I’d received slipped from my mind, and all that was left in its wake was urgency, a myriad of conflicting emotions, and a burning in my chest. This must have been what Antas had meant, there was no doubt.
Nayana. Named like the tiny white flowers growing wild everywhere.
Her hair was a matted nest of long, blonde, tangled tresses streaked with dried blood.
I doubted I’d be able to tell what color her eyes were, even if she were standing directly in front of me because her pupils were almost fully blown out.
Dirt and dried blood covered her frame, thick shackles bound her wrists together behind her back, and the delicate ankles above her bare feet were restrained with metal as well.
Her face was weirdly emotionless for someone who was about to die, and she stood still as if she wasn’t there at all.
Despite everything, I couldn’t deny that she was stunningly beautiful. But it didn’t matter—I wasn’t interested in such things; I wasn’t Thain, after all.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, torn between too many emotions assaulting me at once. Since when did I have to deal with those? Disgusting.
The world spun in front of my eyes, and I decided to have a very thorough discussion with Antas later. Whatever this was, he should have warned me how distracting it would be. I needed my focus to see this extraction through, and so far, I was doing a piss-poor job of keeping myself under control.
My head was spinning, and the burn in my chest intensified as I watched the merchant step up to the woman and unlock a gold choker encircling her neck.
His lips were close to her ear, and—damn, I wasn’t able to hear what he whispered to her.
I swore on the spot that this so-called king would soon meet his end at my hands.
To clear my thoughts, I shook my head and growled, anger rising at the whole situation.
I had to pull myself together. So I took a deep breath.
This was a battlefield, and only the calm and focused would succeed.
It was vital that I paid enough attention to my surroundings and the crowd, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about a bunch of harmless townspeople.
The object of our quest was held captive in front of me while being in mortal peril, and if anyone was standing in my way, they would regret it.
I’d just regained a semblance of composure when the merchant slipped the noose over Nayana’s head and pulled it too tight, all without a single reaction from the tiny woman, and staying focused became a problem once more.
Two guards forced her on a stool, which fortunately wouldn’t be high enough for the drop to snap her neck if she fell off. Feroy himself adjusted the rope, so it had no slack.
She must have been drugged. No one would meet their execution without showing zero reaction.
“Anytime, Fig,” I growled under my breath. I was so close to abandoning the plan. Why didn’t the others act? My fingers itched, and my body still vibrated with nervous energy.
“Fuck, what are they waiting for?” I cursed, and a man next to me frowned, obviously misunderstanding the intent behind my exclamation.
As I glared at him with fury and bared my teeth, he took a step back, and it filled me with some kind of sick satisfaction.
He had to sense that he wouldn’t stand a single chance against me.
His instincts surely told him that between the two of us, he was the prey.
Satisfied, I turned back to the stage, and, with my eyes widening in horror, I witnessed just in time how the merchant kicked the stool the woman was standing on. Shit.
As I stood on a tiny object, my breathing grew shallow while rough material coiled around my neck, and a rope dangled from the wooden beam behind me.
Nevertheless, I felt nothing apart from those physical sensations.
I should have emotions. I should protest and tell them the truth.
Tell them about my innocence and how everyone was misunderstanding the whole situation.
But I didn’t. I was merely a spectator in my own body, watching my own demise.
If there were sounds, I couldn’t hear them. If there were smells, I couldn’t perceive them.
The end. This would be my end. I would die today.
Still, I felt nothing.
The crowd observed me, and I caught a glimpse of Rewi raging against two guards who held her down, stopping her from running toward me.
My best friend. I’d never talk to her again. Was Bryon also here? We never made it to the dance together.
Why wasn’t I sad? Or scared? Or angry?
Suddenly, the ground beneath my feet disappeared. The drop seemed to last forever until the rope tightened around my neck. My body was consumed by pain, and I silently screamed.
I couldn’t properly breathe anymore. Everything inside of me was burning. For air. I needed air.
And then everything went dark.