"There, I have brought you," the same young nobleman said, gesturing to the crowd with a limp hand, loose at the elbow, and loose all the way through. "But I will not be speaking on your behalf, Lord Blackwell. These people have every reason to detest you. I couldn't in good conscience vouch for you in any way."
"Very well," Blackwell said gruffly, though he had a thousand things rattling inside his head. Different ways that he wanted to tear apart the young man's statement.
The handful of other noblemen that had led the way to the city centre drifted off on horseback with the young man, leaving the Blackwell men very much alone.
Blackwell gathered himself, and set his horse forward again at a walk. He brushed through the crowd. They didn't willingly part for him and his lot, but there was no other route to take other than straight through, if he wanted to make it towards the speaking platform that had been set up for him.
