Page 81 of Leila’s Legacy

“Ye killed my son,” Lord Armstrong said. “And now ye will die for yer crimes. May yer soul rot in hell.”

Niall tried to talk, but his words were muffled by the binding at his mouth. Damn Lord Armstrong. He’d made certain Niall couldn’t accuse him publicly of what he’d done. The truth of Niall’s father’s death would die with Niall.

The drumbeat became louder, faster, and made his heart quicken. It was time.

He was shoved to the center of the platform where lines of a trap door were visible in the wood. There would be someone beneath to pull a beam and make the door fall.

The crowd of onlookers stared back at him. Peasants with dirty faces, their eyes wide and vacant. Leila was right. They were scared. All they wanted was a cure for their families, to make the pestilence and death stop. The drum pounded faster still and left his heart racing with a frantic beat.

Thump, thump, thump.

The noose was slipped around his neck, the rope rough where it touched his skin. An icy wind blew, and he closed his eyes to savor it as the last feeling he would have in his life. He wished instead it could be the gentle caress of Leila’s hand on his jaw or the brush of her sweet lips over his.

Thump, thump, thump.

Cold wind may be his last feeling, but she would be his last thought.

Forgive me, mo chridhe.

Thump, thump, thump.

The noose was drawn tight around his neck and the drum fell silent. The platform dropped from underneath him and the noose around Niall’s neck went taut.