Don't look at me like that. I know I've been on an updating spree, but hey, can you blame me? My muse controls my fingers. -wriggles fingers-
Revolution
Chapter 10
"I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country."
- Nathan Hale
It took about a quarter of an hour to reach Trafalgar Square. Tom could sense and hear the hushed anticipation and faint undercurrent murmuring of the crowd. The blindfold was pulled off, and Tom blinked, his eyes suddenly exposed to the light of the London day.
It wasn't raining, for once, but it was overcast. The sun still managed to shine down on those assembled.
The guards almost pushed him up the wooden steps to the platform, which faced the judge's table. Next to his position, Tom noted with a measure of irony, was the gallows.
His fate was sealed. He would hang.
Tom peered into the crowd, trying to see if he saw anyone he recognized. There, near the gallows, was Arsène. The thief looked glum. A little behind him, Tom spotted Jimmy Grey (#1) and the other boys of Cannon Street (#2) in their grimy coats and hats. Towards the edge of the crowd, Tired Tim, Weary Willy and Ally Sloper stood close together, dirty hats in hand, whispering to each other.
With the nobles, Tom recognized many of them, chiefly Congress members with whom he had sparred verbally with. In the middle of them, Zalma von der Pahlen looked pained. Probably lamenting the fact that I was caught, Tom mused. His beautiful ally in fighting for rights for the people was paler than usual, and she looked a little sickly. He had, of course, heard rumors of her being ill, but now she looked worse than usual.
Where was Damon? Tom knew his friend wouldn't give up until the very end. Had he organized some foolhardy plan of rescue? Part of Tom hoped so, but another part rebelled and hoped not.
Owen's not here, Tom thought, frowning. Damon isn't, either. Which might mean two things: one, that they've got something planned, or two, they've been captured too.
His green eyes widened a little. If Damon was captured, then the Underground was doomed for sure...
A hushed silence suddenly fell on the people there. Looking up, Tom saw that Dante, Reed, and their entourage had arrived.
Tom raised his chin, and took in a discreet deep breath. He would face his fate with no fear. The Underground could go on without him, and he sincerely hoped that it would.
Owen looked around the corner of the alleyway he and the Irregulars were hiding in. From there, they could see the Square and the gallows.
His heart leapt to see Mr. Caine — no, Tom; Damon had told him his real name —standing there, fate already sealed. Owen thought, I promise you, we won't let you down.
Tom had done much for the street kids in the area, for Owen especially. The boy was immensely indebted to Tom and he could clearly remember the first winter that Tom had spent in London. It was then that the two became friends.
We won't let you down, Owen repeated to himself, watching. Dante was arriving. Soon, the pre-arranged signal would come, and the Irregulars would do their job.
Dante ascended the steps to his platform with all the regality he could muster. Chauvelin stood with the guards that surrounded the gallows and platforms, ready to command them in case of an emergency. Reed would join Dante as a judge.
The nobles were to the side of the judge's platform, and Dante noted with approval that they seemed to support his persecution of the Black Duke, whose operations hurt their finances.
There was really no need for a trial. Everyone knew that Tom Sawyer was going to die anyway, but Dante had to keep up the illusion of a fair and just system of justice.
He took his seat at the table, and Reed joined him. King and Prime Minister alike nodded to the Chief Justice, who proceeded to read from a piece of paper.
"The accused is Thomas Sawyer, alias Noah Caine, alias the Black Duke, of St. Petersburg, Mississippi, America," the robust man read out, his full voice echoing off the quiet streets of Old Quarter. "He is accused of high treason and destruction of property."
Tom's brow shot up. Destruction of property? When had he ever done that?
Then the answer hit him. It had been a New York weapons plant that the American branch of the Underground had blown up.
Finally, it was time for the judge's to state their decision. Not that we need to know, Tom reflected.
"The judges find the accused guilty of all charges," the Chief Justice announced. The silence amongst the crowd grew thicker, like fog on a very wet day. "The verdict is death by hanging."
"The accused is allowed one last statement," he continued on, looking at Tom.
He looked at Dante in the eye, saying to him directly, "There will be others like me." He paused. "You can't kill the future."
The air of defiance was around the American again, but Dante took some comfort in knowing that it would soon be gone, along with his life.
"To the gallows," he ordered, and Tom was roughly grabbed by the hangman.
He didn't bother to struggle. He's already resigned himself to his fate, he thought triumphantly. As well he should.
Finally, James' death would be avenged. He had waited ten long years for this, and the king of the world fully intended to savor every moment.
As he was grabbed by the black-clad hangman whose face was hidden by the shroud he wore, Tom stumbled and nearly fell backward. It was then that the hangman chose to lean in and whisper a few, precious words:
"The game is on, Duke."
Damon! Damon had been there all along, standing next to him, and Tom had not known! Tom willed himself not to react in anyway that might give away Damon.
Tom was immediately reminded of Mongolia, Allan, and the League. Surely it couldn't be a coincidence that Damon had said the exact words that Allan had a decade ago. Only a few knew what Allan had said that day...
The League! Something in Tom's mind yelled at him. They're here! They're coming!
Owen nodded to himself. It was almost time.
"C'mon, boys," the twelve-year-old said, turning back to face his friends. "Time to get into positions."
The large ragtag group of children nodded, and ran off in their pre-arranged groups of five to their respective locations, their weapons in hand. Nodding to himself again, Owen joined Jimmy Grey and some of the Cannon boys, who had sneaked away.
We won't let you down, Owen pledged. I promise.
Tom knew he was safe — after all, Damon wouldn't let him die, would he? — but he couldn't help but feel apprehensive when the noose was slipped around his neck and tightened.
How would they come? When would they come? There was precious little time between tightening the noose and the trapdoor opening.
"Hang him!" Dante ordered, and Tom's eyes widened. The trapdoor gave out from behind him.
(#1) Jimmy Grey is a reference to "The Iron Fish", a comic strip which began appearing in the British comic Beano in 1949. This Jimmy Grey is the child version of two twins who pilot 'Iron Fish' submarines.
(#2) Cannon Street is featured in Justin Richards' ongoing Invisible Detective series.