Sarah clung to Agnes’s arm, still weepy with grief for her aunt. Ashby had arranged his men down each side of the Great Hall, the two lines closing behind the prisoners as they walked the length of the room. Tobias Ashby himself waited on the dais, with Turner behind him. Next to her brother, Leah Turner held the two children by the hands. ‘Henry!’ Agnes lunged forward. ‘Aunty Agnes!’ Henry wailed and struggled to release himself from Leah’s grip. Daniel caught her by the waist. ‘Not now,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Your time will come. Sarah, see to her.’ Sarah took Agnes in charge, with an arm around her shoulders. Henry yelped and fell silent as the fingers of Leah’s hand tightened on his shoulder. Daniel stepped forward before Ashby could speak. He was damned if he would stand there meekly allowing this man to play God with their lives. ‘I stand here in the presence of these witnesses and accuse you of the murder of Margaret Truscott,’ he said. Not a muscle twitched in Ashby’s face.
