The Test of Ostra

by Rory D Nelson

  “Brothers and sisters of Gilleon. We say thankee to God. We adjourn to town square.”

  The townspeople file out of the massive auditorium. Herod, Tennyson and Morgana walk out. As they make their way to the town square, they approach Lonnie and Tennilus. Herod feigns sympathy and approaches Lonnie. Her face is painted with a stubborn scowl. He proceeds as if unaware. As he extends his hand, she fires out with a right hook, clocking him in the jaw.

  “You are a vile hind-serpent!” She screams. She lunges at him again but this time Tennilus holds her back. Tears stream down her face. “I hate you!”

  Tennilus holds her and whispers to her. “Come now Mais. Set watch and warrant it, he will get his. Mark words.” He escorts her away, while giving Herod a contemptuous sneer.

  “I would say you deserved that, Herod,” reproaches Morgana.

  “I’ll permit it, so I will. In three days, I will be the most powerful man in all of Gilleon, perhaps even the West Indies.”

  “We still have a King,” says Tennyson.

  “For now and so long as I permit such,” says Herod with arrogant aplomb.

  Morgana and Tennyson chuckle, as if Herod told the funniest joke. On observation, one might assume they were at a wedding rather than an execution.

  As is customary, the brethren escort the condemned out of the cell. Domithicus and Savelle are at his side.

  “It’s time,” says Domithicus.

  Talgath gets up and comes to the front of the cell. Savelle opens the cell door. “Any last rites? Do you request a final redress?” asks Domithicus.

  Talgath shakes his head. “You must vocalize your answer,” says Domithicus.

  “No,” says Talgath in a croaky voice. Buck Sater, the Secretary of Council jots down the conversation verbatim. As is custom, he must document the full proceedings of the execution.

  Talgath makes his way out of the cell and accompanies Domithicus, Savelle and Buck.

  Domithicus turns around and looks at Savelle and Buck. “Cry pardon Savelle and Buck. But if it would befit you well, would you permit me a moment with the condemned? It would only take a moment.”

  Savelle and Buck look at each other and shrug. Savelle nods at Domithicus. “Ai.”

  “A moment off record is all I ask.”

  Talgath looks confused. “This is not some subterfuge,” says Domithicus. “Set watch and warrant it, you will go to your execution. Out of the love for your father and for your family, I would not have you suffer so needlessly. It is not permitted and there could be sanctions if the deed were discovered.”

  “What is it?” asks Talgath.

  Domithicus extracts a small, papay toke, holding a powder root. “It is a tree root talcum bark, a powerful painkiller. You will still feel the brunt of the pain, but it will mitigate it. I cannot bear to see you suffer so much. I cannot believe that the fruit falls so far from its tree. Would you take it? To blunt the severity for a friend of kin?”

  Talgath shakes his head. “No. I must have my wits about me.”

  “Ai. Understand so I do. But you understand that you are about to feel more pain than you can imagine. It is more pain than a mortal should bear.”

  “And for the sake of my soul, it must be mine to bear. You ken?”

  “Ai. Understand.”

  “If it please, would you promise me one thing?”

  Domithicus nods. “Ai. If it is in my power to do so, name it and see it done.”

  “See to my family. I don’t trust Herod.”

  Domithicus nods. “Ai. And you would be prudent not to. You can trust the Brotherhood. We will care for them.”

  Talgath nods. A few tears stream down his face. “Ai. Then you have given a condemned man considerable comfort. It is time to meet my maker.”

  Domithicus lays a hand on his shoulder. “Ai.” He whistles to Savelle and Buck. “Allright then. Let’s resume.”

  Talgath makes his way to the town square and the large stage they bring out for such spectacles. Most of the townspeople are in attendance save for the few that cannot stomach such proceedings. Attendance by the citizens is encouraged but not mandatory. Merlin and Germanicus are the officiators and wear identical black suits, gold cufflinks and their medals of distinction. Merlin steps forward to address the crowd.

  “Talgath Aborenio Selenius, you have been convicted of the crimes of high treason, robbery and murder in the first. You have pleaded guilty to such charges. You ken?”

  “Ai,” says Talgath, with head held high.

  “Then as head council, priest and representative of Gilleon I sentence you to death by crucifixion. Do you wish to make a statement before I begin your purification?”

  Talgath nods. “Ai. I cry pardon to Gilleon for my transgressions. I cry pardon to my family for the crimes of abandonment, betrayal. And, for my late father, who I have shamed. I cry pardon to my maker for a life wasted. I cry pardon to myself for what could have been. And what was-ultimately.” Talgath considers adding ‘forever accepting the deal of Herod-Sai’ but refrains. His family would bear the blunt of such a capricious remark.

  After a brief pause, Merlin continues. “You will now begin your purification, Talgath Selenius. May God have mercy on your soul.”

  Domithicus and Savelle remove Talgath’s chain. For a brief second, he considers running, but knows it would do little good. Extreme marksmen surround him, and they would need only two strategic shots to immobilize him. He is going on that cross. They remove his shirt and apply bamber root oil, tinged with a mild acid. This is more abrasive to the skin than salt, but with each whip, the pain will increase. An unpleasant burn radiates throughout his body. He knows they will compound it.

  They chain Talgath upon the pulpit with two chains, forcing him to stretch out with his feet set apart. The whip is a painful flogging instrument made from the resilient vines of the Boa tree. It packs a walloping punch. Tiny razors ensnare inside the end of the bramble. With each painful whip, they rip chunks of flesh from the unwitting recipient.

  Germanicus stands back about eight yards from his practice target, a wooden post and snaps it out. The effects are instantaneous. The whip rips into the wooden post, splinters the wood and penetrates the post a good two inches. Several in attendance cringe and wince at the thought of it penetrating human flesh.

  Though it hasn’t begun, a few with delicate stomachs walk out. Germanicus looks to Merlin, who gives a ‘you may begin’ nod.

  Germanicus wastes no time. He snaps out his wrist, imperceivably fast, hitting Talgath in the middle of the back. Though he was bracing himself for the worst, he lets out a cry. A small amount of blood seeps from the wound. Talgath squirms around as his pain receptors light up like an exploding volcano. Excruciating pain erupts throughout his body. He wishes for unconsciousness but knows it is too much to hope for.

  Germanicus snaps out his wrist again, this time making a long, three-inch tear across his shoulder blade. He cries out again. Germanicus snaps out again and again, while Talgath cries out in agony. The pain mounts as his back bleeds, more and more blood seeping with each painful laceration.

  By the tenth lash, he regrets not accepting Domithicus offer. His body squirms like a worm on a hook, unable to escape the pain of his punishment. He pulls so hard on his chains that the skin bunches up on his wrists. Much like the skin of a sharpee under the yoke of tight collar. If his wrist broke, he wouldn’t be able to feel or differentiate from the pain. The discomfort erupts throughout his body in an all-consuming agony.

  After what seems like an eternity, Germanicus finishes with the flogging. Germanicus sympathizes with Talgath, and this speeds the process. Protocol dictates he waits at least thirty seconds or more between lashes. Germanicus hurries the deed to only ten.

  A dollop of boric acid coats the cross. Germanicus and Domithicus remove Talgath from his chains and place him on the cross. He cries out in agony. The acid mixes into his fresh wounds, while he continues to bleed.

  Talgath squirms and tries to
escape but strong arms hold him down. Domithicus takes out the hammer and long nails and is about to proceed. Merlin interrupts him. “Domithicus. Permit me. It will only take one strike.”

  Domithicus nods. “Ai.”

  Merlin takes the hammer and nail. He slams the hammer fast, driving the nail through the flesh until it hits the board in one move. Talgath cries out in agony. Talgath cries out and squirms. He squirms with his other hand, trying to remove it out of view but to no avail.

  Germanicus holds his hand in place and nods to Merlin. Merlin wastes no time. He drives the hammer through the nail. And, in one powerful move, this sends the sharp nail through flesh, bone, and cracks the wood. The sound of the nail penetrating flesh is grotesque. It reminds Germanicus of the sound of boots squishing in the mud.

  Merlin moves to the feet. Talgath tries to to free his feet, while Germanicus tries to pin them down. Unable to accomplish it, he looks to Merlin. “Talgath, quit squirming. If we cannot hold you down, it will force me to break your kneecaps. You ken?”

  Talgath nods. “Ai.”

  Germanicus holds down the now compliant legs of Talgath. Merlin hammers in the nails to his legs, eliciting agonizing cries from Talgath. Syrus, Savelle, Domithicus and Merlin pick up the cross. They place it in the retrofitted hole in the stage, while Talgath continues to cry out in agony. He beats his head against the post to knock himself unconscious. He cannot muster a hard blow, since he cannot swing his head in his confines.

  Lonnie turns away, while tears stream down her cheeks and buries herself in Tennilus’ chest. He hugs her to him. “We can leave, Mais. Anytime. Just say when.”

  She nods while sobbing. “I only wanted to be here for him, but I can’t take it anymore.”

  “Then let us leave this horrible place.” Tennilus puts his arm around her and heads her off to their carriage.

  Unable to bear the brutal scene, the townspeople leave, except for the morbid few. Herod, Morgana and Tennyson are among them. They look more like spectators at a wedding or holiday rather than a brutal execution.

  Sylvia buries herself in Dante’s chest, unable to bear the scene any longer. “Germanicus says it is important to witness justice in action. As a community. It binds us and reinforces our commitment to each other.”

  “Merlin also told me we could leave anytime we wanted. I cannot witness anymore.”

  Dante nods. “Ai, my love. I’ll take you out of here.” He searches around. “Where is your ma and pa?”

  “They left quite a while ago, but the proceedings enraptured you. You looked affected yet you must watch for some purpose.”

  “I have heard rumors of this man. It is my understanding he worked for the interloper. Merlin and Germanicus have told me they will not tell me his identity. All I know is he is someone important in the community. I ken he is an important senator with a substantial purse.”

  “I ken you are right. It would make sense.”

  Dante puts his arm around her. They rush away from the scene which now has a handful of people remaining. Outside of town square, Sylvia turns around and looks into Dante. “Dante, may I ask you something?”

  He smiles. “Ai. Could ask me anything, so you could.”

  “What would you do if you found out the identity of the interloper?”

  Dante shrugs. “Not much I could do. I am a recruit of the brotherhood and citizen of Gilleon. It is the country I have dedicated myself to.” He looks at her. “Like I have dedicated myself to you, Lady-Mais.” She blushes.

  “I would want to see justice done and believe in due process. When the time comes, I shall stay to the end of his crucifixion. I shall revel during every second of his torment. As he nears death, I’ll spit in the man's face who has taken my family’s life.”

  “Dante, that sounds like vengeance rather than justice.”

  He nods. “Ai. I pray God will change my heart, but I have nothing but loathing for those responsible. How would you feel if the murderer of your family were still alive?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. Perhaps you are right. I wouldn’t know how to feel if he were still alive. Merlin solved that for me when he put a bullet through his head. I believe in the brotherhood and due process.”

  “One day I will be knight and I will have you by my side,” says Dante, smiling.

  “You have much to do to win me, young knight.” She teases. Dante feigns bemusement. “But I ken you are well on your way.” He hugs her, kisses her with tenderness, and slips his tongue inside her warm mouth, enjoying her peppermint taste. Feeling his groin against her entices her with indecent thoughts. She pushes him away. “Now away with you young sai.”

  He nods and complies. “Ai, my temptress.” She smacks him with playfulness. Dante glances back at the gruesome scene and tears well in his eyes.

  “I heard a rumor the interloper cozened Talgath into misdeed.” He says.

  She nods. “Ai. Have heard rumor also.”

  “I doubt any witnesses remain.” He looks at her, a guilty twinkle to his eye. “I will do something. I suppose I should escort you home first.”

  She shakes her head. “No, not without me you won’t.”

  “You may not approve.”

  “I know I won’t but you’re taking me with you. Set watch and warrant it, I’ll make a forgetful witness.” Dante laughs. “And if you don’t take me, I’ll just have to inform on you for your misdeeds.”

  “Then I suppose I have no choice.”

  Merlin walks around the town square. Everyone left except the jubilant Herod, Tennyson and Morgana. Their boisterous laughter elicits Merlin’s hidden outrage as he approaches them.

  “Good day to you, Merlin,” says Herod. “How fareth?” asks Morgana.

  He nods and bows. “Herod-Sai, Tennyson. Lady-Mais, Chastity. How fareth?”

  “We are well,” says Herod.

  “Under the most morbid of circumstances? From your clamor, one would think you were attending a wedding celebration and not an execution.”

  “Since when is seeing justice done not a time of celebration?” asks Herod.

  “Executions are not a time for celebration. Due process completes justice. Everyone has left and has witnessed enough. Perhaps you should do the same. One might get the wrong idea of you.”

  “And what is that Merlin?” asks Herod.

  “That you are a sadistic monster who revels in the anguish of others.”

  Herod appears wounded.

  “And what if we do not wish to leave?” asks Morgana.

  “Then I would have to insist on it,” says Merlin.

  “And if we still did not wish to go,” asks Tennyson with indignation.

  Merlin puts his face inches from Tennyson. Tennyson flinches. “Then I suppose I would have to be a little more forceful. You ken? You wish to provoke me? Continue and see how it bodes for you.”

  Herod holds up his hands and laughs. “We submit, Merlin. If it is that important to you, we will go. Come Chastity and Tennyson.”

  Merlin tips his hat. “And I say thankee. Have a good night.”

  Herod nods. “Ai.” He gives Morgana and Tennyson an indignant look and shakes his head but walks off, anyway. They know it will be a long ride home.

  As is customary in Lycenea on execution days, the town square closes for the day, much like a holiday. But this time, a somber mood is in order. Dante and Sylvia make their way towards Miller’s Brewhau and Inn. Their eyes dart around the deserted streets with suspicion. Dante knows that if they catch him at this moment, he will have explaining to do.

  If Merlin catches him, he will be incapable of fabricating a plausible story. He won’t even have to breach his mind. He considers insisting on taking Sylvia back home but refrains. She senses his misgivings. “It’s well, Dante. Cammilia will alert us to anyone’s presence.”

  He nods. “Ai. Ken well, so I do.” Cammilia nudges his side with affection, almost knocking him over. “Let us go then.” They approach the back entrance to the inn and fin
d the door locked. Dante extracts his homemade locking tools, a tiny pinion gun and a pair of needle-nose pliers.

  “Now you’re committing a crime?” She whispers in an exasperated tone.

  “Trust me. It will only be for a few minutes. This inn is the best vantage point.”

  “For what?” She asks.

  “Do you want me to take you back?”

  She gives him an agitated smirk. “No. Just be quick about your shenanigans. My mother would have my hide if she knew what we were up to.” She looks at him with curiosity. “What are we up to anyway?”

  He gives her a devilish grin. “I can’t tell you until you are an active conspirator.”

  Her heart beats faster. She looks around, a little paranoid, sure someone will catch them any moment. A part of her feels exhilarated, but she would never mention it to Dante.

  While climbing the stairs in silence, Dante places his index finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. They arrive at the top of the landing and he opens the window. “This is the perfect spot.” He says. Dante extracts his slingshot and a small ball bearing. This weapon is mere child’s play for him. Talgath shivers on the cross. Every few minutes, the poor man thrashes his head and rolls around on the board. Death will not come soon enough for him.

  Sylvia approaches Dante and touches his shoulder. “Kill him quick and finish it.” A tear rolls down her cheek. She looks away.

  He lines up his sites but Cammilia interrupts with her whining. “Cammilia shush!” He says. And it dawns on him. She is alerting him to someone approaching. He looks at Sylvia with desperation. “Hide, Sylvia. Now!”

  Her eyes dilate to twice their size. “Dante!” She says in exasperation, though she is still whispering.

  He looks around and sees a large, dusty, tattered sofa bed. “Behind that.” He says. The sound of heavy boots thumps the stairs while ascending. Cammilia is about to bark but Dante gives her a shushing gesture. Dante hears another set of steps alongside the boots. They are the clitter clatter of claws, a wolf’s claws. It is someone from the brotherhood.