He looked at me for some response, but I just stared at Rob.
“The first is the more humane, of course. Often times the fall is so long and sharp that the jerk of the rope pulling tight just snaps the neck.” He snapped his fingers, and I flinched. “Dead. Just like that. The other is more horrible. They fall, and instead of instantly dying, their windpipe is crushed. They can’t breathe. Blood can’t drain out of the head, and it’s the worst, most awful headache you’ve ever had.” He leaned close to my ear. “It feels like your head is about to burst open.”
A tear fell out of my eye.
“He’s only a few feet off the ground,” he observed. “Just enough to keep his toes from the grass. I don’t think it will be enough to snap his neck, do you?”
My eyes closed, and more water rushed out. “Your mother is right outside,” I told him. “You do this, and she will never forgive you. England will never forgive you.”
“I am her son!” he screamed at me. “She will side with me, she will protect me, she will start the cheer to proclaim me as king once she hears her precious Richard is dead!”
I glanced at the gate, at the guards, at Rob. “Prove it,” I challenged him. “If she comes in and sides with you, I’ll tell you where the money is.”
He sneered. “You think I won’t murder you in cold blood with an audience?” he growled. “I’m willing to make it public. My people need to learn the same lesson you do. They need to learn to obey me, and they need to see how high the price will be if they fail.”
Prince John nodded to a knight. “Surround the gate, and open it. Guard the prisoner,” he ordered.
The knights all snapped to attention, a small group surrounding the tree and the rest forming a double wall in a half circle around the gate, their swords drawn. Once the gate were opened, the people there could only come in so far. If they started to push, like rioters were wont to do, they would fall on swords.
The portcullis were raised, and the gate opened.
People started to rush in, but they halted when they saw the swords.
“Make way!” someone yelled, and I saw a carriage pushing up the way. It halted, and people pushed aside for Eleanor to come.
But not just Eleanor.
Suffolk.
Essex.
Leicester.
Norfolk.
Hereford.
Albemarle.
Hertford.
Pembroke.
“Your Graces,” the prince snarled. “What business brings you here?”
“You will stop this immediately, John,” Eleanor said as the men spread out to flank her.
He laughed. “No, Mother. I will not play favorites for you; I will not excuse treason for you. Your ill-begotten granddaughter’s first treason was pardoned, and look where that led? I let one traitor go and another grew up beside her. This time I will cut him down and let him stand as a warning to those who would dare oppose my brother.”
“Treason?” she demanded.
“They have stolen the ransom for King Richard’s safe return!” He looked at me. “Tell them what you’ve done! Tell them, and our bargain will stand.”
“They can’t steal it,” Essex shouted. “He’s an earl of the realm! They raised that money like we all did. It is their own money.”
“Then why take it from the White Tower?” Prince John demanded. “Only a traitor—”
“I know what she did,” Eleanor said, raising her chin. “How do you think she got the money away? I helped her do it.”
“You helped her defy me!” Prince John screamed. “How could you?”
“Because she said if you didn’t trust her to hold the ransom—to move the ransom—as is her right as a noble, it proved your wrongdoing. It proved that you were scheming against your own brother to steal the throne.” Eleanor drew a breath and shook her head. “I am very disappointed, John.”
“She’s setting me up!” he yelled. “She’s lying! And you, you ungrateful, coldhearted woman, you’d choose her over your own son? You’re supposed to love me, but all you ever gave me were the remains of your love for Richard. And now you see the face of your favorite in his bastard, and you choose her over me!”
“You promised to let me go,” I told him. “You said—”
He grabbed my hair, pulling me close. “You tricked me, you little bitch! And you will watch your outlaw husband die.”
My blood froze, staring into Prince John’s wild, stricken eyes.
“My lord Prince,” Suffolk called, scowling.
Prince John let me go, pushing me back against the wooden rail. I looked down the twenty or more feet to the ground, but guards clapped their hands on me, holding me still.
“Yes, Suffolk,” Prince John said.