Chapter Thirty: The Headsman's Field
In which Ian learns that Xian’s crimes involve more than just debt.
Donal’s long legs had no problem keeping up with Ian as they trotted toward the palace hill in the distance. “Ye mind telling me what Xian did?”
“He borrowed money—a lot of money, apparently,” Ian said. “He didn’t say how much, but you don’t get thrown in debtor’s prison for not paying a few pub owners.”
Donal grunted. “But neither do ye get threatened with execution for debts.”
Ian stopped and turned to Donal. “You think there’s more to it?”
The big man shrugged his wide shoulders. “This fella—Lord d’Tarjian. What do ye know of him?”
“A freelance told me he has his hands into business on both sides of the law,” Ian said. “And another freelance mentioned that I’d not be wanting to anger the man.” He started to walk again.
Donal’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Why d’ye care so much, lad? He’s just a foreigner—not even your kin.”
Ian turned back. “He nearly wed my sister.”
“Close don’t count.”
“I like him.”
“You like everyone.”
Ian frowned. He crossed his arms. “I think debtor’s prison is a barbaric practice. It was outlawed in Eirya decades ago. And even if Xian did have enough debts to go to prison, he doesn’t have enough to be executed. No man does. I’ll not let him lose his life to a headsman’s axe because of a few unpaid debts—not if I can stop it.”
Donal let go of his arm. He inclined his head once. “On principles, then. I can live with that.”
The sun was turning the sky a thick, heavy orange by the time they arrived at the palace gates. Ursula paced inside, and when she saw Ian, she spoke quietly to one of the guards. The man pointed toward Ian, and Ursula nodded. The guard opened the gate and beckoned Ian through. He stopped Donal with one hand on his chest. “He’s with me,” Ian said in Esparan.
The guard frowned. “This is not customary, saya,” he said to Ursula.
“The last wishes of a dying man must be heeded,” she said. She gestured to Ian. “This man was requested by the accused.”
Ian gave the guard a crooked grin. “I don’t go anywhere without my guard.”
The man hesitated, looking Donal up and down, and finally stepped aside. “Only in the yard,” he told Ursula.
She inclined her head. “Of course. My lords, this way.”
Ian fell in step next to her. “They intend to go through with it?” he whispered.
She nodded. Her face was grim. “It is not only his debts that have angered the palace. He—” She bit off her words. “It is not my place. I cannot betray his confidence.”
Ian put a hand on her arm and stopped her. She turned her dark eyes to his, and his breath caught for a moment. He swallowed hard. “Am I doing the wrong thing, Ursula?”
She squeezed his arm. “You will do as Alshada leads, highness,” she said. “I know this. You are a man who does what is right.” She turned to lead them toward the prison.
They passed through a long stone corridor and into the center yard of the prison. A bloodstained stone stood in the center of the field. To one side, a hooded man sharpened an axe on a whetstone with a steady whisk whisk. Ian swallowed hard.
“This is more than an idle threat,” Donal whispered, leaning close to Ian’s ear. “Ye’re certain ye don’t know what your friend did?”
“Quite certain,” Ian said. “I only know of his debts. This is . . . .”
“Even in Espara, this is uncommon punishment for debt,” Ursula said. She turned to Ian. “Highness, you should speak with the ambassador. I may perhaps—”
“Too late,” Donal said, pointing.
To one side, two prison guards brought Xian through a stone arch into the light. The ambassador’s hands were chained before him, and his head lolled from slumped shoulders as if he’d already admitted defeat.
On a balcony above the field, a figure dressed in dark red robes sauntered out of the shadows to look down at the prisoner. Rings glinted in the sunlight when he lifted a goblet to his mouth. His long, graying hair was tied back at the base of his skull.
“d’Tarjian,” Ursula whispered.
The guards stopped walking in front of him and turned with their prisoner. d’Tarjian looked down. “Well, Xian. It would appear our game is at an end.”
Xian didn’t look up. “I am at your mercy, my lord.”
“My lord d’Tarjian.” Ursula stepped forward. “I must beg your indulgence.”
d’Tarjian turned heavy eyes toward the saya and appraised her. He inclined his head. “I am a faithful servant of the kirok, as always, saya.”
She forced a smile. “The prisoner requested one last audience before his sentence is carried out.” She gestured to Ian.
d’Tarjian only cast a glance at Ian. “You have heard the prisoner’s last confessions?”
“I have,” Ursula answered.
“Then I fear I must say no, saya,” d’Tarjian said. He spread his hands. “Even the kirok cannot stop the execution of one convicted of crimes against the Esparan crown.”