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Terran walked past the guards, aware of the silence following him like the wake of a boat. He could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes on him, and he slanted a gaze at the crowd. Some onlookers were clearly angry. Others looked afraid.

Frowning, he climbed onto the viewing stand and took his place at the front. Kenric took up a position behind him.

Suddenly, the people in the crowd shifted, craning their necks toward the commotion of shuffling peasants and shouts of protests beginning near the rear of the crowd.

Terran turned to see Mary being led toward the executioner’s platform. She was dressed in a drab brown tunic reaching to just below her knees. Her hands were bound in front of her with thick rope. Her head hung to her chest, her shoulders slumped. He felt sorry for the girl; he guessed how terrified she must be, but comforted himself with the thought that she was really in no danger.

The guards shoved her forward. The girl was so small the guards seemed like towering giants. She moved slowly through the crowd, which moved ever closer to her, everyone clamoring for a look at the doomed girl. For a moment, it seemed the crowd had actually swallowed her up. But she reappeared amidst the throng, moving ever closer to the executioner’s platform.

The guards shoved people out of the way as they led Mary to the stairs of the platform. A few in the crowd surged forward as if to help her, but the guards roughly pushed them back.

Sir William, the captain of the guard, stepped up the stairs to join them on the viewing stand, his eyes scanning the crowd.

“Any sign of him, Captain?” Terran asked.

Sir William shook his head.

Terran’s gaze moved over the crowd. The sun had begun to dip over the horizon, and the anxiety bottled up inside him drew his nerves taut.

Mary reached the stairs to the execution platform. A brown-robed monk took her elbow and began to lead her gently up the wooden steps. She stumbled once as her legs gave way beneath her, but the monk kept her on her feet with a firm grip on her elbow.

The guards stationed throughout the crowd drew closer to the executioner’s platform, making a tight circle around it. As Terran’s gaze moved back over the crowd, his eyes stopped on Mary. She was staring at the large block of wood sitting ominously on the platform. A wicker basket was positioned next to it, sitting beneath the indentation carved into the block. The poor girl was visibly trembling.

The monk urged her on, and Mary finally reached the top of the platform.

The crowd became quiet, deathly quiet, as the executioner mounted the rear stairs of the platform, his large boots thundering on the wooden steps. At his side, he gripped a heavy axe tightly in his beefy hand. He was dressed all in black, his head and neck completely covered by a black hood save for two large eyeholes. He stepped onto the platform, shifting the axe from one hand to the other.

The monk guided Mary toward the block. Her eyes had gone blank, and Terran wondered if she had lost her reason. She seemed completely oblivious to her surroundings, her face as expressionless as if she were asleep, or already dead inside. The monk guided her to her knees, and Terran’s stomach tightened. This was going too far. Where was the Midnight Shadow? Was his trap going to work?

The monk stepped back as Mary placed her neck on the chopping block. Her hair dangled down into the wicker basket below her head.

The executioner moved into position near Mary’s head. He gripped the axe with both hands as he moved the head of the heavy weapon into place at his feet.

Terran scanned the crowd, looking for a sign of his enemy, but saw nothing but morbidly curious faces awaiting an unjust execution.

The executioner raised the axe over his head and glanced over to the viewing platform, waiting for the final order to proceed.

He had to put a stop to this charade. Mary didn’t deserve to die. He opened his mouth to tell the executioner to lower his weapon.

Suddenly, there was another commotion, this time at the bottom of the stairs of the execution platform. Terran glanced toward the sudden flurry of movement and swore he saw a flash of black explode through the crowd.

The blur leaped onto the platform and hit the executioner, knocking the large man to the ground. The axe flew out of his hands and landed with a loud thud in one of the platform’s wooden planks. Then, just as quickly, the shape was gone. Mary had disappeared into the crowd with it.

“The Midnight Shadow!” The shout erupted from somewhere in the crowd.

The onlookers exploded in wild chaos, yelling and pushing for a glimpse of the Midnight Shadow.

“Don’t let him escape!” Kenric ordered, his gaze focused on the bottom of the stairway to the executioner’s stand.

Another flash of black drew Terran’s gaze as a cloaked figure moved through the crowd. “There he is!” he shouted.

With a wave of his arm, Kenric signaled the guards forward.

Quick as lightning, the Midnight Shadow engaged the first guard, slicing his sword down to block the guard’s blow.

The crowd scattered away from the swinging weapons and their deadly blades, clearing a small circle in which the combatants fought.

The Midnight Shadow parried and struck with the skill of a trained fighter. But as the second, third, and fourth guards moved in, he was hard pressed to defend himself. Finally, one of the guards grabbed his arm and another wrenched the sword from his hand.