“Do you see them?” Clairissa demanded.
Margaret shook her head. She pulled her furs closer to her. It had turned cold overnight and, while it was far too early, looked like it could snow any minute with the steel gray clouds billowing in the distance. “Not yet. I can hear other people starting to yell in the distance.”
“Well, of course you can,” Clairissa snapped.. “Why do you think I’m asking if you can see him, Margaret?”
Margaret rolled her eyes. “If you’re so worried about it, why don’t you go look for him yourself?”
“Don’t be snippy with me, Margaret.” Clairissa glared at her. “You want to see him just as much as I do.”
“I can hear horses on the cobblestones!” Ingrid declared. “They’re coming!”
“Oh!” Elise clapped. “They’re getting closer!”
“I can see them!” Annalise had to yell just to be heard over the booing of the crowd.
Margaret was surprised no one was throwing anything at the traitor. She supposed it was because they didn’t want to hit the soldiers who were only doing their job bringing the traitor in. They had done nothing wrong, after all. “I wonder who he is?”
“Here they are!” Elise’s voice was nearly lost in the crowd.
Gasping, Margaret covered her mouth when the traitor came into view. His clothes were tattered and stained with blood, he was missing a boot, and he stumbled between the horses as he walked. Two soldiers held his arms aloft with rope so that he could not stop moving even if he wanted to. He looked like he hadn’t eaten for days, his cheeks hollow with hunger and exhaustion. Nausea bubbled in Margaret’s stomach as she watched him stumble. He was saved from falling by the same ropes propelling him along.
“Traitor!” Clairissa screamed next to Margaret. She blended in with the crowd calling the same thing.
He only limped along, his head hung low.
Tears gathered in Margaret’s eyes. She knew he was a criminal, but how could he have been so poorly treated on his way to the capital? He looked as though he was seconds from death and wished for it.
A man broke from the crowd and tackled the traitor to the ground. The man flipped him over on his back and began hitting him as hard as he could. The traitor didn’t fight as the man hit him; he didn’t even cover his face.
Margaret covered her mouth when she saw the traitor’s face. She knew him! What was his name? She could not remember, but she knew his face. She had seen him patrolling the city with the Third.
“No!” she yelled at the soldiers. “You have to help him!” She yelled as loudly as she could, but her voice was drowned out by the crowd cheering for the man beating him.
After what seemed like ages, the soldiers were off their horses and pulling the man from the traitor. “Back in the crowd!” one of them bellowed, shoving him in that direction.
Margaret could barely hear another say, “Put him on the horse. This crowd has become too volatile.”
The soldiers pulled the traitor on to a horse, and a soldier climbed on behind him to keep him in place. He charged ahead, riding toward the palace. The crowd surged behind him, trying to follow. Margaret was rooted in place as people pushed past her. She had no interest in following. She felt ill, having witnessed the violent scene.
“Can you believe we got to see that?” Clairissa sounded excited.
“We’ll have to tell everyone.” Ingrid grabbed onto Clairissa’s arms, bouncing on her toes. “They’ll be so jealous!”
Margaret looked at them with disgust, remaining silent.