“Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!” the onlookers chanted as they parted before him like an angry sea.
An overripe apple slammed the side of his face, the foul juice smearing his cheek. A clump of mud splattered against his chest.
On trembling legs, Colyne wove forward.
“Move back,” a king’s man bellowed.
Instead, spewing curses and threats, the crowd surged forward. Hands tore at Colyne’s clothes, his hair, stripping him of whatever they could yank loose. Beneath the assault, he collapsed to his knees.
Fists beat him.
A boot slammed into his ribs with a crack.
Pain exploding inside, he started to collapse. On a curse, he jammed his hands into the muck and fought to remain conscious.
“Get back!” the guards ordered, shoving between Colyne and the attackers, slowly forcing the crowd back.
His blood pounding, Colyne regained his focus. A fresh gash lay across his chest, his ribs ached, and blood from several cuts seeped into a puddle of water below him, framed in the muck.
He clenched his jaw against the pain and struggled to his feet. With the crowd around him fading in and out, he forced his legs to move.
As he trudged forward, he scanned the tower windows. He willed Marie to be there.
To see him.
To remember.
The windows remained empty. A painful ache built in his chest, as he fought the grief consuming him. He’d never see her again, ever. When her memory returned, ’twould be too late. Numb, he stumbled forward.
As if in answer to his wish, a woman’s figure appeared in one of the central tower windows. Honey-colored hair fluttered in the light breeze.
Marie! Hope exploded inside.
The woman moved from view.
His heart slammed against his chest. Had she nae seen him?
“On with ye.” The guard shoved.
Muck spattered his face as Colyne slammed to his knees. He wiped away the grime and refused to give up hope. By God, she’d seen him!
On a shaky breath, he locked his elbows and looked up. Instead of Marie’s window, the executioner’s platform blocked his view.
Dread crawled through him as he scanned the scarred steps, the planks worn down by his predecessors, the hewn wood tainted by their blood.
At the cheers of the crowd, he looked over.
A hooded man, his arms thick as oxen, stood on the center of the platform. As their eyes met, his fingers on the axe tightened.
Colyne sucked in a raw breath, fought the churn of panic. A guard caught his arm, hauled him up. “Move.”
His boot clunked on the bottom step with morbid finality. He swallowed hard as he forced his foot up the next rung and faced the truth.
He’d been wrong.
The woman in the window had been another lass.
Any hope of telling Marie that he loved her vanished.
