by Bill Albert
The third meal on the third day was more fruit, bread, and water which he carefully ate. She was feeling weak and new her stomach was sensitive after a few days of bare minimum.
Afterward she started to think about her other friend on his mission in the swamp. Jakobus, the dwarf, was incredibly smart and resourceful and she was sure he would have no problems finding a way to remove the curse on the elves. She trusted the Others in their claim that Novelevon was talented enough to find a way.
Tired and weak she was unable to stop herself from doubting Jakobus for his past. She had trusted him and told him of her affection towards Maura. She knew in both societies it was a taboo and for bitten feeling and it had taken a great deal of faith for her to tell him. In return he had told her of his darkest time. How, as a youth, he had shamefully started a massive fire that had destroyed homes and farms. She prayed to Tebiet that Jakobus had not been responsible for the fire. They all had secrets, inside or out of Starpoint Mountain, but had his secret caused her way of life to be destroyed?
She knew he had repented to his own God and had dedicated his life to making up for it but the sliver in her faith in him remained.
She only dreamt once that night. It was a disturbing dream of a real-life nightmare.
“Gallif!” Father yelled before entering the burning barn. “Take Veret and head for the creek.”
“Daddy! I can help you.”
“No, dear, the fire has already taken the house. I want to get the horse is out of the barn.”
“I’ll help you!” She pleaded with him. “I ride Stiger all the time. She’ll trust me. I can bring her out,” the little girl pleaded.
“No,” he said kneeling over and cradling her sweet face in his hands. “You have to rescue Veret. Then mother and I will join you. Trust me.”
Gallif would always believe the time stopped so they could look into each other’s eyes at that moment. She knew he wanted her and her little brother to be safe. She also knew that she would probably never see him again.
Finally, she nodded, he kissed her on the forehead, then stood and ran to the barn. She grabbed Veret and ran away from their home making sure her little brother never looked back. They were almost out of sight, Veret screaming and holding her hands, when the barn collapsed. Gallif woke with a start and wiped the tears from her eyes.
***
Late in the afternoon on the fourth day, the day before the execution, she was relieved to get one more visit from Rosario.
“I’m sorry,” Rosario said after touching her lightly where she had struck her.
“I understand,” Gallif nodded. “You had to do it.”
“They’re planning a big party for your execution.”
“They better be.”
“They been building the platform, painting it, banners, and people have been steadily arriving since yesterday. Then again, you did always know how to attract a crowd.”
“Thank you,” Gallif said lightly as Rosario checked out her arms and legs.
“Mekon’s got six ages on his side for sure, they’ll be on duty tomorrow but will be ready to move if something goes bad. There are three others who he might be able to convince yet.”
“What about Luvin? Gallif asked and frozen as the excitement drained from Rosario’s face. “Tell me,” she insisted. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure” she said looking at Gallif straight on. “He didn’t make the rendezvous last night and nobody has seen him today. I checked where he was staying, and they said Acrufix left yesterday but hadn’t returned.”
“Didn’t you say you saw him with some guards?”
“Some people did but I didn’t. I asked around today and he might have gone to a meeting with the Third Minister.”
Gallif’s empty stomach twisted at the news. She spoke quietly but urgently. “He has got to be up there tomorrow. The revelation of the truth about Acrufix will convince people that there are things the Giant Lords are hiding from us.”
“I know. Mekon is checking with all the guards in Spring Field. We’ll keep looking,” Rosario promised and prepared to leave she gently touched Gallif on the cheek and stepped away. “Open,” she ordered, and they were bathed in bright light and she quickly exited the cell.
News and Luvin’s disappearance made the fourth day stretch on interminably. He was young and strong, she told herself, and very resourceful. He would be able to handle whatever happened and she assured herself that he would be where he should be by the time the execution came. He would be by her side, where he had always been.
The meal, brought later on this day than any other, was plentiful. There was a large piece of beef that she could smell and envy a full minute before the door opened. The tray also contained buttered corn on the cob, diced potatoes, and cream. There was a large carafe of wine with a crystal glass and even a fork and a sharp knife. She crossed her legs as she sat down before the tray and wondered if its size and elegance had anything to do with the fact it was probably her last meal.
She dipped a slice of potato into the cream, smelled it, and swallowed it whole. She trimmed the grizzle fat off the beef and eight a razor thin slice. The aroma and flavor of the food weakened her defenses and she ate heartily.
She sniffs the carafe and got two distinct smells. One was obviously grapes and the other she couldn’t decipher but there was a familiarity about it. She took a sip, enjoyed it, and kept on eating. Steadily she finished off the meal and didn’t realize what was happening until she poured the last of the wine into the glass.
She looked at the glass and saw a few ground-up yellow leaves at the bottom. She used a finger to fish one out, looked at it as close as she could, smelled it, then leaned back against the wall lightheaded. She tried to rise but fumbled on her feet and fell back down. She dropped the glass and it shattered on the floor.
She realized the odd aroma. Calkin grass was a natural, powerful sedative she has seen used on some patients. It left the person awake but numbed the senses of the brain so they could not think or speak yet they could still follow simple commands like stand and walk. They also were very well aware of what they were doing and what was happening around them.
That would explain, she realized, why none of the victims ever executed begged for forgiveness or even resisted when they axe was drawn. They were dead when they still had life.
Fully conscious on the floor but unable to move she finally spotted the small, shadow to crack that Mr. Rat used as he came back into the cell.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: AS THOUSANDS WATCHED
On the day of the execution the Third Minister woke up early feeling fresh and confident. For the first time in decades he walked out of his private dwelling just to look at the sunrise. From his location in Spring Field he could just see over the top of the Great Wall that separated the Giant Lords from the rest. If he glanced to the west behind him, he could see the beauty and majesty of the multicolored Rainbow Mountains.
Even better than their looks were the factories that said just out of sight building his giant weaponry. Metal tubes 25 feet in diameter. One end was clear and open and the other closed except for a covered whole of the top metal balls could be placed at the closed end of the tube with several barrels of the explosive black powder loaded behind it. And his commander torch could simply be dropped into the powder. The powder would instantly explode in the fire would send the destructive globes flying.
With the right amount of powder and force the globes could fly at least halfway across the Land of Starpoint. The globes were also big enough that with the right force and direction they could destroy a mountain. They were quite simple ideas and only 100 or so workers had died during the construction.
He wondered if he should come up with a name for them but decided not to. The future would do that.
As pleased as he was, he was even more thrilled at the thought of Gallif’s approaching death. Once she was removed that problem would finally be eliminated and he could hasten his rise to King. H
e had already had his remaining agents working their way through the thousands of onlookers. They had been mingling from group to group, socializing, then making sure they mention having heard the Third Minister himself had taken a big role in capturing her. The rumors would help solidify his support among the populace and, in turn, the Circle of Ministers.
He looked up at the sky and with a bright smile said aloud, “it’s a perfect day for an execution.”
He turned and went inside to his dining room. His servant had just placed his breakfast there and he took a deep breath enjoying the aroma of the eggs, bacon, and bread. He also got a sniff of the hot sweet tea they had made fresh. He took a deep breath and let the wonderful scent of herbs and spices settle into his lungs. It smelled sweet and it would taste even better. Much better he smiled, then what Gallif had had to drink with her dinner last night.
***
They had been in Bauerent when they saw the proclamation of Gallif’s upcoming execution. They knew they would have to write all day and almost all night to make it, but it didn’t matter. Their hero was in trouble and they were going to do what they had to do to protect her. Aliala and her friends knew the fate of everything they knew was at stake.
They were tired and hungry but just after sunrise on the final day they cleared the forest and saw the execution scaffolding that had been built on the outside of the Great Wall in the distance. Refilled with energy and willpower they wrote as hard and as fast as they could.
They were forced to leave their horses in a temporary corral 5 miles from the wall. There were thousands of people who had been arriving for the past five days and even on foot it was going to be difficult to get close.
They ignored their hunger and ran a full speed past the vendor selling turkey and pork on a stick. The lemonade and pastry vendors also blurred past them and they were finally forced to stop by to heavily armed, bullish, militia men just 100 yards from the stand. The guard forced them to sit and wait nearby to keep an eye on them.
They waited as patiently as they could but when they saw two boys barely a year younger than them playing with their toys Aliala rose angrily and stepped towards them.
“That’s terrible! Aliala growled as she glared at them. “They’re going to kill an innocent person!”
“No, they’ll chop her head off for killing the King,” one of the boys said and held up his toy. It was a crude straw doll with red cloth wrapped around it. They had been spiking the dough into the ground or pretending they were cutting off her head.
“She didn’t do it,” Aliala shook a fist at them.
“She did too! The Giant Lords said she did!”
“The Giant Lords are liars,” she yelled at the top of her lungs and everyone nearby stopped what they were doing and turned to look at her. “I know her. I trust her. She spent the night at my house, and she did not kill the King!” She demanded not backing away from the spotlight.
“You’re a freak,” the little boy said and shook the doll in her face.
Aliala reared back and was about to punch the young boy went to militia step forward brandishing their short swords.
“That’s enough, miss,” one of the guards said. “You better quiet down or we won’t let you watch the execution.”
“I don’t want to watch an execution,” she cried. “We want to stop one.” She glanced over her shoulder and smiled as her friends got up to stand behind her. “There’s to you in five of us,” Aliala said. “You can’t take all of us at once,” she declared.
Attracted by the scene to other peers of guards, including Captain Tag, approached, and surrounded them with their weapons drawn.
“Oh, shit,” Aliala said her advantage vanished.
Captain Tag, who was quite large and bulky even by hobgoblin standards, stared menacingly at her as she spoke. “You’ll be escorted by us to one of the black tents,” he said and paused as the children gasped. “After the event, the execution, you’ll be examined by the proper authorities. I warn you, miss, that comments like that about the Giant Lords are forbidden.”
“Of course, it’s forbidden,” Aliala spoke clearly. “How dare anyone ever suspect the Giant Lords of lying. They couldn’t be liars,” she boasted, and her eyes locked on Captain Tag as she asked, “or could they?”
Captain Tag snapped the guards to attention and quickly March the children off in the direction of the nearest black tent. He couldn’t help but notice that just as many of the people that passed were glaring at him as much as they were looking at the children. Much to his surprise he couldn’t help but ask himself that same question.
Could they?
***
Despite the effects of the sedatives Gallif had barely slept at all the night before her execution. Her thoughts slowed and many times she felt herself loosing focus, but she fought hard to concentrate. She could not allow herself to fall victim to the drugs and feared that, if she did, she would never see the world in a clear light again.
Though she could not get her voice to work in her mind she screamed at the top of her lungs to stay awake. She forced herself to concentrate on all that it happened and all that would happen. She must get control and break away from the mental bonds. Under this influence, she could only follow the commands of others and not voluntarily move on her own. She would not question whether she had the power to break away on her own. Questions meant doubt, and doubt meant death.
Mr. Rat spent an hour with her. He had scoured the floor looking for crumbs to eat, found some, but stayed at least a foot away from her body. For a while they had made eye contact and she wanted Mr. Rat to give her some of his own natural strength. It finished a rather tasty breadcrumb and then moved along. She caught sight of it later as it slipped into the shadow crack in the wall and she spent the rest of the night alone.
She found that it helped, at times, to concentrate on something as basic as the alphabet are simply count numbers to help fight the drag. At one point, she lost focus briefly and could remember if she was in the 50s or 60s when she heard rattling and the door opened.
The guards weren’t taking any chances and were ready and armed. Finally, one carrying a hammer not unlike the one Luvin used to carry, enter the cell, and looked down at her.
“Rise,” the guard said and, like a puppet whose strings had been pulled, she stood.
“Follow me,” the guard said and walked in the hallway. Despite her mind screaming for her to refuse her body walked out into the hallway as well. Had she been of a clear mind and she may have been complemented by the fact that the guards still considered her a threat and stayed well-armed.
The guards walk steadily down the hall and up two flights of stairs as she matched their step until they came to a stop in another well-guarded area.
A human woman and two dwarven males approached her and quietly lecture over. The two dwarves checked her for any hidden weapons, wands, or even charms so there was no way she could do any harm to anyone. The woman took leather straps and bound her hands together in front of her. Matt Nichols will put her ankles with enough chain that she could walk but would not be able to run.
As she followed the guard to the next checkpoint, she focused all our thoughts together to force some independents. She centered herself on getting her own muscles to flex of her own will but failed.
To her surprise, she was taken into a dark, candlelit room and told to sit and wait. The guard left and it took her a full minute before she realized she was not alone. She could hear someone behind her pacing back and forth and mumbling. Or was it mumbling? She concentrated hard on every word that was being said until it became clearer and she realized it was the prayer for the dead. Her hair was suddenly damp, and liquid dripped on her face and she realized the other person in the room was a believer. He was giving her the last rites, begging her God to forgive her. The believer walked in front of her and she was surprised it was a giant. His cloak was covered in flowers and talisman representing many gods including, she was relieved to see, the
open hands that were the symbol of Tebiet.
The calm, relaxed tones of the room worked against her and she felt the effects of the sedatives. She centered all her strength into her throat to let out a scream of anger but failed.
The believer finished his prayers and left the room to be immediately replaced by the guard who ordered her to stand and follow him. They walked an indeterminate amount of time with Gallif’s thoughts fighting her own muscles every step of the way.
Along the way there were various onlookers who had come out to see the assassin up close. Some sneered at her, some cursed, a few even spit at her. As she approached one turn one of the observers caught her attention and stepped just enough into the light that she was able to recognize who it was.
She called out his name, or at least tried to force her lips to move, or give some sign to Jakobus that she knew he was there. For a second she thought she was losing control of her senses as his face seemed to blur. She realized it was the guard snapping his fingers at her. He reached over and grabbed her arm and forced her to turn in the right direction. There was a blur as her vision caught up with her.
Soon they were outside going up plain wooden steps and she knew they were about to enter a small waiting room. There she would go through a few brief preparations before taken onto the stage to be shown to the Circle of Ministers and be executed. Each of the attending Ministers would offer her a last chance of redemption to assure their followers that they were merciful. If she refused to speak, at this point she was unable to speak, she would be marched to the metal slab and her life would end with a slice of an ax.
Masked attendants came into the room carrying the death shroud. It was made from blood red silk and laced with black flowers. On command, she spread her arms in the shroud was wrapped around her. She could smell the sharp aroma of the flowers and could feel some of their petals brushing against her bear left arm.
She made very little progress against the sedative and she knew death was only a few minutes away.