Suzenne hung her head, sighing deeply. “A truly odious man.”
“Indeed,” Maia answered. “If I am ever queen, I will only allow true mastons to serve me.” She shook her head sadly and smiled. “It will lower the costs of the household, to be sure, given that there are so few left.”
“How can you joke,” Suzenne asked in amazement, stifling a laugh. “Look at the sky. Is it yet dawn?”
“I think it is,” Maia replied. “Can you see outside?”
“The window is too high.”
“What if we move the cot over?”
They both grabbed an end and arranged it by the window. The narrowness of the cell indicated it had only been meant for one prisoner. Suzenne ambled onto the cot and pulled on the bars so she could see better.
“It is dawn,” she said. “I can see the greenyard, but it is a ways distant. There are soldiers milling all around it and some coming to and fro with torches.” She eased herself down and then pressed her head against the wall.
“What is it?” Maia asked, seeing her expression change.
“I hope Dodd does not watch us die,” she whispered, shivering. “Do you think he will join us on the platform?”
Maia felt a stab of sadness. Would Collier be on the grounds? She could not imagine him standing still while she was executed. He would rush the guards and kill as many of them as he could. She had hoped that Simon Fox would have found a way to rescue them in the night, but as a wine merchant, what could he truly do but report the latest court gossip? Maia was struggling to keep her courage as the end loomed ever nearer.
Something clattered and slammed against the door of their cell, startling them both. Maia pulled Suzenne off the cot, and both waited anxiously as the noise quelled. A few moments later, a key entered the lock and Captain Trefew entered, his face dripping with sweat, his look now more wary than lustful.
“Come on,” he ordered gruffly.
“What happened?” Maia asked, startled at the sudden change in his behavior.
“Come on!” he barked.
He grabbed Maia’s arm painfully and dragged her out, motioning for another set of soldiers to fetch Suzenne. As Maia left the cell, she was surprised to see Captain Carew kneeling in between a few other guards, his face covered in sweat. He looked at her, his eyes panicked. Blood dribbled from his nose.
“Maia!” he gasped when he saw her. “Your father—!”
One of the soldiers clubbed him on the head with a sword pommel, silencing him. Carew’s tunic was spattered and stained, and she saw a huge bandage on his leg where he had been injured in the brawl on Whitsunday. She saw some other guardsmen had also been subdued and one man was obviously dead, his face twisted into a rictus.
She blinked with surprise. Something was horribly amiss, and her mind swirled to piece it together.
“This way,” Trefew muttered, yanking her after him. “Best get you to the greenyard now before there are more surprises.”
Her father’s captain had tried to rescue her, apparently. Her mind whirled with amazement. She scanned the bodies of the other knights, looking frantically for any sign of Collier. Could he be the cause of this sudden turmoil?
“Move!” Trefew barked, digging his fingers into her arm.
“What has happened?” Maia demanded.
“Nothing that need concern you,” he replied impatiently. Then, to another soldier awaiting orders, he said, “Keep the guards on every doorway.”
A soldier came running at them from down the hall, his eyes wide with panic. “There is a mob at the palace gates,” he gasped. “They are chanting to see her.”
“Let them,” Trefew sneered. “We’ll give them her corpse.”
“But if the king is—”
“Shut it!” Trefew interrupted, his eyes blazing with fury. “I have my orders from Chancellor Crabwell. Go, man!”
Maia looked at Suzenne in desperation, and saw the same startled expression on her friend’s face. Something was wrong. Something had happened. Something to do with her father.
“Tell me, Captain,” Maia insisted, stopping and wrenching against his arm.
He glowered at her, his eyes full of spite. “You want to be dragged to the gallows, my lady? Very well.”
“No!” Maia snapped obstinately. “Tell me what happened to my father.”
She saw him flinch at the word. His oily assurance was gone now. He was afraid. Desperate. When men were desperate, they were impulsive.
“He is dying,” Trefew growled abruptly. “Poisoned.”
Maia stared at him in horror.
“His last order was to have you killed,” Trefew whispered, his jaw convulsing. “Carew could not stomach it. Neither could some of the others at court.” He pulled her hand hard, bringing her face close to his. “But I can stomach it. For an earldom. There will be even more earldoms vacant soon.”