Release me. Now. Or I ull find yer ma and raise hell." He glared back at her. "No." "Are you daft?" she hissed. "Ye wouldna let them flog me, but ye would have a right to see it done, I ken it. So what are ye then, lad? Lacking all sense?" He looked up and down at the crowd. The soldiers and guards in the forefront of the crowd were more open with their anger. The rabble had been brought to Reddington, but that didn't mean they didn't have minds of their own. His father had already been tried, but there was a different trial ahead for him. He wouldn't let others suffer because of him. He wouldn't. "I... I told you the truth. And I can't let you do this." He gestured at the crowd. "You can't do this to the boy." "Boy!" Her voice dripped with venom. "I've been with child most of my life. But I am none of your business, boy. Now stand aside." He did. "Mam! It's still me!" She took a few angry strides toward her son. The soldiers blocked her way, and the guards and sailors held her off. "Let her go," the captain of the guard called. "A guilty man takes his justice. You've done nothing wrong." She shook her head. "You canna believe this. Ye are all blind. Or worse, ye are blind and evil." "She's right, sir." The boy's voice was shaking. "I'm not a thief. And I'm not a murderer." "You are a murdering thief!" the captain shouted back, ignoring the boy. "I've done naught! I tried to protect him!" Reddington cried. "Why can't ye believe me?" "They're mad," the boy said, and his voice shook with fear. "Ye know it's madness, Mam. Ye know I'm not that bad. Ye know I couldn't have helped killing poor Mary." "Mam! I didn't kill her!" Reddington cried out. "They're trying to wrong me!" "She was innocent, son. God bless her soul. God bless her." Her face contorted in despair. "And God will punish ye for what ye've done." Reddington's lip curled in rage. The captain looked at him in fear. But this time it wasn't out of anger or disgust, it was fear. "Red, I'm sorry. I can't lose ye." "But ye have. You've done this." The captain looked helplessly to the crowd. "What do ye say, men?" Reddington looked at the captain and his crew. The sailors had all seen service in the British navy. Most were English, but there were some Scots, too, and a few Welsh. The ship had come from London, but they were all sailors at heart. They weren't murderers, not most of them. But even they had their prejudices. They had grown up in a different country than him. A different world. He had grown up in the islands of Scotland, a secluded land known for crime. The townsfolk surrounding them had suffered the same prejudice. They had seen too many men hung, and the worst of it was, they had been in the wrong. They had seen their own fathers and brothers killed. Some of them were even relatives of the dead. But he had lived in poverty and survived. And that he would do again. They had sent men to die and die they had. Aye, they were no different than any people in England who had suffered and given orders to kill. It was a sickness that ran rampant in the English populace. Even with all the laws, it was difficult to stop. He'd been afraid once of his own people, but that was a lifetime ago. He'd survived and learned his own ways to live his life. It was a crime that he had lived and this boy, like most of his friends in Scotland, had lived too. The man who was now the captain of the guard stood on his side, but his jaw had dropped. The crowd was watching in shock, and yet, Reddington couldn't help but smile. He took the captain's arm and pulled him back. "Ye must let them go." "You're a bold one, lad. But ye have no shame." The captain looked as if he was about to argue but looked down at Reddington. "Aye, well, he's the prince. As long as he's here, there's nothing we can do." He turned to the crowd. "Let them go," he ordered, not taking his eyes off the boy. The boy's mother was sobbing and trying to dig her fingernails into the thick ropes that bound him to the post. "Let him go." Her eyes widened. "Sandy?" He nodded. "Aye, Mam." "You're alive?" The relief on her face took his breath away. Tears threatened to overtake his own eyes. She had wept a thousand times over the years for her lost son. If she was here, she must've found a clue to his whereabouts. "I have been here since I arrived here in England with you," she said softly. "I'm fine, Mam. It's only for a bit." She gasped. "The prince?" "Aye." "I canna believe it." She clapped her hands. "I've got to go find this fellow. He's going to have to come with us. I canna imagine where ye were taken, but I'll bet that ye had something to do with this!" She cried out as the sailors cut her husband down and took him into custody. "Ye have much to answer for, boy." "Mam, they're not taking him." "It's a shame yer da couldnae help ye. Ye should ha' gone to him instead of coming with me," his mother called out. Reddington looked over at his mother. He wondered if she knew he hadn't left because she'd been too blind to see he needed to be free. "I will go with her," he said softly. His mother turned her attention to the crowd and her anger. "Ye'll all bear witness to this. Ye will all see this day come to naught. And I, for one, will not be blind." "Mam." His eyes shot over to Reddington again. "Go. I'm fine. They won't harm me." Her eyes found him in the crowd. "Ye'll need protection, son. Ye need to find your father's counsel." Reddington didn't have to see the sadness on her face. The guilt was written in every line. She knew her son was a broken man. It was the hardest part of loving him. "Don't let them touch my boy," she said, taking two more steps to him. "He's a good boy. They'll not be doing anything to him. Let them leave." Reddington looked away from his mother as the captain of the guard grabbed her. "Ye've got to get ye out of here. If they come back here, I'll see ye safe. And, boy, ye'll be going with her." She shook her head. "I won't leave without ye, son. Ye're mine. Ye belong to me. And I'll be damned if I see ye sold for a handful of coins to anyone!" He could tell she was speaking with conviction and not for herself. "They're going to send me to America, Mam." "Aye. Send ye on a ship to America. So what will ye be doing there, boy? Fighting for the colonies? It's a fool's mission. It's a job for a common man. Ye could stay right here, with me." The pain that came from his mother's heart filled his own. She was begging him to stay. She needed him so much and would miss him so badly. "Mam," he whispered, his voice raw. "I can't stay here." "There's nothing for ye to do here, lad." "I have no choice. I have to leave. I have to get to America. So ye need to go." "Aye, I will." His mother sniffed. "They've sent word to a young man who will be coming from the prison. He's someone who will help ye get there. I'll need ye to say good-bye to yer auntie and yer cousins. They'll be looking for ye." Reddington looked back over at his father. His father had been killed a while back, and his mother and brother taken by the English. Reddington had hoped for a better life in America and knew that for him to survive, he needed to be free. It was his duty to leave, and he would. He had to. But he didn't want his mother to leave without him. He didn't want her to leave, period. "I'll come back for ye, Mam. Ye