breeze was blowing and not a cloud marred the sky. The sun was warm on her face; she caught the scent of fresh-baked gingerbread amid the smells of unwashed wool and stale beer. On the far edge of the press, two lovers kissed and laughed, then kissed again. Lacy clenched her eyes shut and swallowed the lump in her throat. Not today, she cried silently. I’m not ready to die on such a beautiful day.
She sighed and opened her eyes. Alfred had promised they’d come for her. Losing her nerve now would cost her the game. It would mean not only her life, but also that of the man beside her.
Soldiers stood around the base of the gallows. With threats and brandished weapons, they cleared a path for the deputy-keeper and the condemned cart. Lacy felt beads of sweat break out on her forehead, and the salt stung the brand still hidden by her hair. She fixed a wooden smile on her face and scanned the mob for sight of her brothers.
James leaned close to her. “Well?” he demanded. “Where are your friends? Late won’t cut it. We’re deep in shit, woman.”
The cart wheels squealed as the road grew steeper. The prisoners in front of Lacy were sobbing, and above the clamor of the crowd she could hear someone praying behind her. Off to Lacy’s left, a woman was selling hot meat pies, and beyond her, a man on stilts was hawking miniature gallows complete with dangling nooses. One enterprising farmer had brought a cow to Tyburn and was selling cups of fresh milk straight from the teat. Fathers held their children high to see the condemned, while mothers nursed babes and gossiped with strangers. A single black crow circled the gallows tree, then settled squawking on the topmost crossbeam.
Lacy stiffened her spine and tried to look as though she were at a country fair and not her own execution.
The oxen stopped and a guard dropped the back gate. “Out!” he ordered. One by one, the prisoners behind her climbed out of the cart and were shoved roughly toward the platform.
A black-frocked cleric opened a Bible and began to preach. “Repent!” he cried. “Eternal damnation awaits the unrepentant sinner. You will suffer the fires of everlasting hell if you die without forgiveness.”
“Black,” the deputy-keeper read from his list. “James Black.” James climbed down out of the cart with Lacy close behind and a soldier unfastened his wrist and ankle manacles. “Bennett. Lacy Bennett.”
Lacy suppressed a groan of relief when her own heavy restraints were removed. All that remained was the iron collar and the chain that bound her to James’s neck collar.
The nearest mounted guard used his staff to prod James in the direction of the gallows. Soldiers beat back the crowd. The man on the horse stayed right beside them, so close that Lacy had to avoid the animal’s hooves.
“Abbott, Alice Abbott. Acorn, Annie Acorn.” The deputy-keeper’s voice was nearly drowned out by the din of the onlookers. Annie wailed and clung to the cart, but the guards dragged her down and carried her to the steps of the gallows. “A’s first,” the keeper reminded the guards. “Abbott and Acorn.”
The black-hooded executioner waited motionless on the top step.
“Repent!” urged the minister. “Repent and seek the mercy of God.”
Alice Abbott spat at his feet and climbed the stairs with all the nerve of a fighting cock. The throng cheered as the executioner tied her hands behind her back and settled the first rope around her neck.
The next woman, Annie, dropped to the ground at the cleric’s feet and begged for her life. Lacy swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and forced herself to keep her eyes open as they carried Annie up the steps, secured her arms, and put the noose over her head. Both women were hooded, and a military drummer played a tattoo.
The deputy-keeper tried to read something from his warrant, but no one could hear him above the roar of hundreds of throats. James caught Lacy’s hand and squeezed it as the
She sighed and opened her eyes. Alfred had promised they’d come for her. Losing her nerve now would cost her the game. It would mean not only her life, but also that of the man beside her.
Soldiers stood around the base of the gallows. With threats and brandished weapons, they cleared a path for the deputy-keeper and the condemned cart. Lacy felt beads of sweat break out on her forehead, and the salt stung the brand still hidden by her hair. She fixed a wooden smile on her face and scanned the mob for sight of her brothers.
James leaned close to her. “Well?” he demanded. “Where are your friends? Late won’t cut it. We’re deep in shit, woman.”
The cart wheels squealed as the road grew steeper. The prisoners in front of Lacy were sobbing, and above the clamor of the crowd she could hear someone praying behind her. Off to Lacy’s left, a woman was selling hot meat pies, and beyond her, a man on stilts was hawking miniature gallows complete with dangling nooses. One enterprising farmer had brought a cow to Tyburn and was selling cups of fresh milk straight from the teat. Fathers held their children high to see the condemned, while mothers nursed babes and gossiped with strangers. A single black crow circled the gallows tree, then settled squawking on the topmost crossbeam.
Lacy stiffened her spine and tried to look as though she were at a country fair and not her own execution.
The oxen stopped and a guard dropped the back gate. “Out!” he ordered. One by one, the prisoners behind her climbed out of the cart and were shoved roughly toward the platform.
A black-frocked cleric opened a Bible and began to preach. “Repent!” he cried. “Eternal damnation awaits the unrepentant sinner. You will suffer the fires of everlasting hell if you die without forgiveness.”
“Black,” the deputy-keeper read from his list. “James Black.” James climbed down out of the cart with Lacy close behind and a soldier unfastened his wrist and ankle manacles. “Bennett. Lacy Bennett.”
Lacy suppressed a groan of relief when her own heavy restraints were removed. All that remained was the iron collar and the chain that bound her to James’s neck collar.
The nearest mounted guard used his staff to prod James in the direction of the gallows. Soldiers beat back the crowd. The man on the horse stayed right beside them, so close that Lacy had to avoid the animal’s hooves.
“Abbott, Alice Abbott. Acorn, Annie Acorn.” The deputy-keeper’s voice was nearly drowned out by the din of the onlookers. Annie wailed and clung to the cart, but the guards dragged her down and carried her to the steps of the gallows. “A’s first,” the keeper reminded the guards. “Abbott and Acorn.”
The black-hooded executioner waited motionless on the top step.
“Repent!” urged the minister. “Repent and seek the mercy of God.”
Alice Abbott spat at his feet and climbed the stairs with all the nerve of a fighting cock. The throng cheered as the executioner tied her hands behind her back and settled the first rope around her neck.
The next woman, Annie, dropped to the ground at the cleric’s feet and begged for her life. Lacy swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and forced herself to keep her eyes open as they carried Annie up the steps, secured her arms, and put the noose over her head. Both women were hooded, and a military drummer played a tattoo.
The deputy-keeper tried to read something from his warrant, but no one could hear him above the roar of hundreds of throats. James caught Lacy’s hand and squeezed it as the
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