The Tales of Miriela: Shadowborn

Chapter 50: Sia Jurjrey

The rope had burned a red ring around her wrists. It was a constant sting. The sweat and dried blood made each touch of the rope feel like a thousand needles. Sia and Doren had walked through the Canstein on foot, hands tied to the trapper's horses. They had finally passed through the gates of Kessex, and arrived at the town square.

Sia had never been to Kessex before, but it seemed no different than the Westbottoms. There were plenty of people who looked just like her, poor and filthy. They wandered about the city square, selling goods, or crafting them. They looked sick, tired, thirsty, and hungry. Some danced about in a drunken stupor and others simply sat and watched.

"Come on girl, let's go. Climb on up. We got here just in time," One of the highwaymen said to her. They all stood in the center of the square, where a raised platform had been built. The platform had upon it a noose and a block, all covered in old, black, blood. "Don't worry, those aren't for you."

Sia climbed upon the wooden platform, and Doren followed. She looked down to see her horse tied to a post just below, in front of her. She sat down on a bench and instructed Doren to do the same. A large crowd began to form. Many of the peasants had stopped their work and gathered around to watch.

There were others on the platform as well. Three poor men, each waiting to face their death. They were all older, their wrinkled skin and gray hair proved that much. One was fat, the two others only skin and bones. They all smelled terribly and were covered in filth.

"Sia, what's going to happen to us?" Doren nervously asked. Before Sia could respond, another man climbed upon the platform to join them. He was a short man with a large beard and distinct mustache. He wore a hat with a wide brim, that circled around his oblong head. His nose was thin and so were his bones. He looked at each of the five who sat upon the bench, before turning to face the crowd. He raised his hands high in the air, and the crowd let out a loud cheer, that whirled through the air.

"Good day, people of Kessex," He shouted. The crowd continued to cheer uncontrollably. "We do have some for sale." He pointed at Sia and her brother and the crowd began to boo. "However, Sir Gewen has been awfully bored recently. I feel it only right to provide the man with the work that he does best. And we shall indeed, for today, we have three executions!" The crowd began to roar once again, this time even louder than the last.

Sia's stomach dropped at the thought. She looked to the men, who sat to her right. Tears rolled down their cheeks, and piss dribbled down their legs. They were chained at the wrist and ankle, unlike Sia and Doren, who now sat with their hands free of any rope.

Yet another man came onto the platform. He was wearing brown leather pants and a black hood that covered his face. He carried a sword almost as big as he was. The massive man made the wooden platform shake when his feet crashed down upon it. He passed the bench and stood calmly near the block, his sword waiting patiently at his side. Certainly that was the executioner, Sir Gewen.

"By decree of Lord Edward Reed, the ones called Salem Jennin, Malamed Connel, and Fin Pentson, shall be put to death, by way of beheading, for the crimes of speech against House Reed." The crowd continued to roar.

The man farthest down on the bench was grabbed by the arm, and lead to the block, by the executioner. Sir Gewen shoved him to his knees and pushed his screaming face into the bloody rock. With one great swipe of the sword, Sir Gewen sent a head rolling towards the dirt and cobblestone below. A splatter of red blood shot upward towards the sky, and a chorus of raging cheer let out from the crowd.

Sia reached over to cover Doren's eyes, but they were already tightly clenched shut. Sia had seen death before, she had brought it forth herself. But this was different. This was entertainment.