“Corruption, profiteering and exploitation,” said Risinau.

“Treason against the People of the Union!” hissed Judge.

“Is there evidence?” asked Orso.

Judge glared back at him. “They sat on the Closed Council. What more evidence do you need?”

“Were they allowed a defence?”

“They sat on the Closed Council. What defence could there be?”

“We sat there, too, Your Majesty,” said Pike softly. “You know each man of them was a willing cog in the monstrous machine, a callous accomplice in the purges and injustice. Can you truly pretend that these are better men than the ones they ordered hanged outside Valbeck?”

Orso swallowed. “The ones you ordered hanged.”

“A better world comes with a bill to pay. We all must make sacrifices. And look around you.” Pike calmly scanned the baying crowd. “The people have given their verdict.”

“Get on and hang the bastards!” someone roared, and other voices joined him. Plainly, there was no appetite for clemency. When was there ever?

“Whatever they did, they did in my name,” said Orso, his voice cracking. “At least put me up there with them.”

“All in good time, Your Majesty,” he heard Judge murmur.

Risinau held up a hand to quiet her, his hard little eyes fixed on Orso. “If the king cannot remain silent while the People’s Justice is administered, he will have to be restrained. Captain Broad?”

A monster of a man stepped up to the royal enclosure. The royal pigpen. A neckless bull made to look even more savage by a pair of wire-framed eye-lenses perched on the flat bridge of his nose. He planted one great hand on the rail before Orso, a tattoo on the back. An axe and a bolt of lighting, with stars on the scarred knuckles. Hildi took a step towards him, bunching her fists, like a kitten raising its hackles at a bear. The big man just gave her a sad smile and took off those little lenses to show tired, weak eyes.

“It’s a brave show, Your Majesty.” No threat in his soft voice, just a weary pragmatism, and he breathed ever so gently on his lenses and gave them a wipe with his cuff. “But it’ll do no good. You don’t want to get hurt, and I damn sure don’t want to hurt you.” He perched them back in their place and raised his brows at Orso. “Things are bad enough. Why make ’em worse?”

He was right. Thousands of people had crammed into the Square of Marshals to see these men hang. Orso was powerless. More so than ever. He let Hildi drag him back into his chair and sat mute, hands limp in his lap.

Lord Hoff noisily cleared his throat. “If I might say… a few words before—”

“No.” And Judge snapped her fingers.

A clank from beneath the platform. With a whirring of gears, the counterweight dropped and Hoff was snatched up, just like the dummy. He bounced wildly at the top, his head caught the beam and he flopped, swinging, blood bubbling down his face, his neck grotesquely stretched.