by Ijaz, Usman
“Alexis, what are they going to do to us?”
The Legionnaire looked at him ... and in his eyes Connor saw all the understanding he needed. He had known it would come to this. Alexis turned his head aside, as though unable to look at him any longer. He seemed to be in a great deal of pain.
Footsteps sounded down the hall and Connor turned to see the Sune Guard marching towards them. Adrian came to stand beside him to watch the men approach.
“I’m sorry,” said Alexis miserably. “I’m sorry I got you into any of this.”
“You did all you could,” Adrian told him quietly.
The Guard stopped before their cell and Connor saw with no great surprise that they all had their swords in hand.
“Step back,” said the captain with a stone face.
Connor and Adrian took two steps back. A man moved to the cell door and unlocked it with a key at his belt. Four of the guards marched in and seized Connor and Adrian by the arms, one to each side of either boy. They were led out and then down the hall without another word. Connor looked over his shoulder at Alexis, as did Adrian, and he saw that Alexis’s knuckles were white from gripping the bars. The sudden realization that they would never again see one another nearly overwhelmed him right there, but he pushed the feeling away and willed himself to be strong.
They were led through the main lobby of the jail, out the door, and into the gray light of dusk. Connor found himself taken aback by the sheer size of the crowd that took up the town square. It looked as though all of Sune had come to witness their hanging. The crowd was thick and spilled back into the streets. The only clear space was around the gibbet that had been erected. Connor saw that there were even people on the rooftops, watching calmly. The faces that turned to look at them as one were for the most part bereft of any emotion. They looked on with the faces of folk that might not enjoy what was to take place, but did not plan on interfering either. They were simply watching. Stone faces, Connor thought, and felt a shiver travel up his spine.
But it became immediately clear that not all felt a cold indifference. Vulgar shouts came from throughout the crowd, and some even began to throw the rocks that they held. The ones on the rooftops, perhaps thinking themselves out of reach of any castigation, were especially keen to let loose their stones. None of the stones struck Connor or Adrian, and after a few curses from the guards they stopped.
The guards started them down the small stairs of the jail and towards the crowd. Connor glanced at the cloudy gray sky and realized that he felt just as lost as such a sky seemed to warrant. The crowd parted before the guards as though a path was being cloven through them. It didn’t take long for them to reach the raised dais, where a proud lord Wendyl awaited them.
The gibbet had been erected on a large wooden dais, and to Connor it looked like nothing more than an oversized empty doorframe. It had been constructed in haste, as was apparent simply by looking at it. It consisted of two thick beams standing erect with another nailed across the top. Hanging from the top beam were two long ropes that trailed like snakes’ tongues on the wooden floor. Connor couldn’t take his eyes off the ropes as he and Adrian were led up the short creaking stairs and onto the broad platform. There they stopped, and lord Wendyl turned to face the watching crowd.
“I do not make the laws,” he said to them in a voice that carried far into the silence. “That is the Council’s duty. I simply enforce them. But even was it not my duty to hang these two, I would still do so, for I know that it would be a great justice to humankind everywhere. We all believed that the Ascillians were dead, and now we know otherwise. This boy here proves that.” He moved over to Connor and Adrian and looked at them as though deciding what to do with them. Connor felt a strong hatred towards the lord as he grabbed Adrian’s face harshly in one hand and turned it to the crowd. “See his eyes and know him for what he is!” Wendyl roared. “And know that Grandal aids him! With this boy was also captured a Legionnaire of Grandal, one whose duty it was to take the boy someplace for reasons unknown. Or perhaps he was to be taken where he could do the most harm. We will learn the truth once the Legionnaire is questioned.” Soft mutters arose from the crowd, but they were quickly silenced as Wendyl went on, still holding onto Adrian. “Whatever Grandal’s reasons for hiding and aiding an Ascillian, they cannot justify treason against the rest of humanity. The truth will be spread throughout every nation, and Grandal will answer for its crime! But Grandal’s time will come another day.” He pulled Adrian closer to him, and turned him so that the people could see him. “This day we come one step closer to eradicating his kind, so that we may never again need fear them. His death, and the death of his friend, will be a message to those few Ascillians that may still be alive this day. We do not need them, nor want them!”
A few scattered cries arose from the watching crowd. Wendyl abruptly shoved Adrian back, and then backhanded him across the face. Adrian went sprawling to the floor in surprise. Connor stared at where his cousin lay, blood running in a thin stream from one nostril, and then at the fat lord. For a moment he was gripped inexorably by shock and fear, and then those emotions were overrun by one so strong that they might as well not have been there. He broke free from his restrainers’ relaxed grips, and ran at Wendyl in a blind rage, aware that he was screaming at the top of his lungs.
Wendyl hadn’t been expecting the assault and Connor nearly bowled him over, but the man was too heavy. Instead Connor grabbed his loose clothing and tried to push him off the dais, not caring if the man pulled him down with him. But the man would barely budge. As Wendyl reached out to pry him off, Connor bit him on the arm as hard as he could. The fat lord shrieked and tried to jerk his arm free but Connor wouldn’t let go. Wendyl struck at him then with his free hand, and bright pain exploded in Connor’s head. He stumbled back and fell on to the wooden floor. Guards immediately seized him in iron grips.
“My arm! The little bastard bit me!” Wendyl’s incredulous cries rang out over the murmurs of the crowd. He marched over to where Connor stood between the guards, fury contorting his face, and drew back his sleeve to shove his forearm before Connor’s eyes. “I am bleeding, you little bastard!” he shouted ... and then smiled, a smile that displayed his crooked teeth and never so much as touched his cold eyes. “Now you hang first.”
The fear was back, and it was all that Connor felt as the guards shoved him towards the gibbet. His heart pounded in his chest. He suddenly felt lightheaded, as though he might simply pass out. The guards half-carried half-dragged him beneath the gibbet, for he seemed to have lost control over his body. His hands were pushed behind him and held and bound tightly. His wide, frightened eyes roamed across the indifferent faces of the crowd and the guards to rest on Adrian.
“Adrian!” he shouted desperately, and felt warm tears running down his cheeks.
“Connor! No!” Adrian attempted to get to him, tears coursing down his own cheeks, but he was easily restrained by the guards. For a moment their eyes locked, and a clear thought rose up in Connor’s head, odd in all the confusion and fear. How could I ever have hated him?
He was held firmly in place as the noose was placed around his neck.
6
“Connor!” Adrian screamed.
It was hard to believe that it was happening, and yet all Adrian had to do was trust his eyes and know that what he saw was the truth. Connor was about to die. He screamed for his cousin and attempted to reach him, but found that he was easily restrained. He felt despair wash over him and drown him as he struggled against the guards, but they wouldn’t budge. And as it had been in his dreams all those times, he was restrained and helpless to do anything but watch. The tears that spurted from his eyes now came equally from shame at not being able to do anything and the thought of losing his cousin.
This is not fair! a part of him screamed. This can’t be happening! He doesn’t deserve to die! Adrian turned to face Wendyl, aware of the warm tears running down his face. “Please! Don’t do this! Don’t hurt him
!”
Wendyl looked at him closely for a few moments, and then smiled to himself as he turned away to watch the hanging. Adrian saw at once that there was no compassion or remorse in that face.
“Connor!” he screamed, and realized his voice was breaking down into harsh sobs. He shouted out to the only person who came to mind then. “Alexis! Help him! ALEXIS!”
But of course Alexis could do nothing. Adrian thought he could faintly hear the Legionnaire’s shouts from his cell, but they seemed to be coming from another world.
“Hang him!” Wendyl ordered brusquely, holding his injured arm to his chest.
Adrian watched in horror as two large men took up the other end of the rope tied around Connor’s neck. He met Connor’s frightened eyes, and hated himself for having put his cousin in this situation. You should have stayed home. The two men heaved on the rope with all their strength. Connor was pulled up like a fish from water, legs flailing and a horrible wheezing sound escaping from his throat.
Adrian fought against the guards that held him and shouted wordlessly, an inarticulate cry that was full of all the despair and anger he felt then. He gained a foot, and the guards doubled their efforts and held him where he was.
Connor’s body twisted wildly as he struggled to free himself or gain a breath of air, but it did no good. For an eternity Adrian watched Connor’s entire body racked with shivers. After a few moments he could no longer hear the soft wheeze of breath, and those flailing legs seemed to relax a little more after every throe. He could see Connor’s face turning blue, and it pained him to his core to realize that he could do nothing.
Through watery eyes he watched Connor hang.
Chapter 24
Death
1
Alexis watched the proceedings from his cell window, wanting to tear the walls down and reach the boys, and knowing that he couldn’t. He smashed his arm against the bars furiously, but it did nothing more than send jagged bolts of pain up his arm. He ignored the pain. All he could hear were the boys’ desperate cries.
He looked out the window, which offered him such a taunting view of the town square, and saw Connor hanging from the gibbet. He no longer moved, only a slight illusion caused by the ripple of his clothes in the wind. Alexis had felt a profound pride towards the boy as he had attacked Wendyl to defend his cousin, but now that feeling was gone, replaced by a deep helpless anger. He felt as though he could rake his face bloody in frustration.
He understood now why the gibbet had been constructed as it had. A fall through a trapdoor might break the boys’ necks and end it quickly, but in this manner the hanging would be prolonged and the cursed crowd could slowly watch the life drain from the boys.
“Damn you!” he shouted out the window. “You can’t do this! You’ll damn us all, you stupid fool!” A few people looked his way briefly, but for the rest it was as though they couldn’t hear him at all, or chose not to.
The shame and frustration at being so helpless was enough to bring tears to his eyes, but he had no time for tears. He attacked the bars again. He grabbed the short bars and tried to shake them loose, as he had attempted countless times already, but they were set too deep into the stone and wouldn’t give. At a loss, he began to smash his arm against them again. I can’t watch them die! I can’t let it end this way!
And as if to prove him wrong, beyond the window, Adrian was pushed into place and the noose placed around his neck.
Alexis could do nothing but stare in horror and shock. He did weep then, realizing that all they had come through, everything that Hamar and Owain had died for, and their mission given to them by King Aeiron himself, would end with the boy’s death.
2
It was then that Alexis became aware of sounds from the hallway. He turned from the window, feeling dazed, and walked to the front of the cell.
“You cannot do this!” came a man’s outraged voice.
A deep, confident voice answered. “And what am I doing now? Move your cursed ass!”
Alexis angled his face along the bars to see a man dressed in the blue of the Sune Guard being led down the corridor. Behind the man were two others. The guard came to the cell opposite his and stopped abruptly as the man behind him ordered him to.
“Open it,” said the man, and Alexis saw that he possessed a gun, aimed between the guard’s shoulders.
Alexis’s gaze drifted from the gun to the man’s face, and he was instantly struck with sudden recognition. He knew the man. Those cold, hard eyes that had seen much in this life, that dark brown tangle of hair that fell to his shoulders, and that grim cast to his mouth - it was hard not to remember. Alexis’s eyes went back to the gun; the markings hidden by the man’s hand, the size of it, the make of it.
“You’re a Legionnaire,” Alexis said, feeling out of breath. Fragile hope began to grow in him like a dying amber amidst the ashes.
The man glanced at him before returning his eyes to the guard. The guard had the cell door open and stood waiting like a trained hound. “What else would I be? Now let me see the mark on your hand, so I can see for myself if what this girl claims is true.” To the guard he said simply, “Walk inside.” The guard began to obey, and the Legionnaire brought his gun crashing into the base of the man’s skull, knocking him senseless. He shoved the man into the cell with his foot and then closed and locked the door. He turned his attention to Alexis.
Alexis saw all of this from his peripheral vision. He was too occupied looking at the other person in the hall. He smiled as he saw Leah standing there, darting nervous glances behind her. He saw the bundle on her back and recognized the shape of a harp beneath the cloth. “You. I had given up hope you would be able to do anything.”
“Well, now you know better,” she said. “Now, can we hurry this along? I have no intention of sharing these cells.”
Alexis stripped off his glove and showed the Legionnaire the crimson mark of the Legion. The man looked at it closely, as though not wanting to believe it.
“When I saw you at the inn I would have never suspected you bore the mark.” He shook his head and muttered, “too young.” But even as he spoke he was removing the ring of keys from the other cell door and placing it in the lock to Alexis’s.
With a metallic clang the door was unlocked and Alexis shoved it open. “God, how good it feels to be free,” he said as he stepped outside.
The other Legionnaire clapped him on the shoulder, nearly sending him staggering forward. “Well, you’re free, but what are we to do now?”
Alexis was already moving down the hall. “You’ve done enough. I can’t get you involved in what’s going to happen next; neither one of you.”
The man grinned. When Alexis had first seen the man he would have never thought a smile could crease that harsh face, but now it seemed almost natural. “The Legion sticks together, boy.”
“My name is Alexis Marshall.”
“I presumed as much,” said the other man. “Call me Michael.”
They came to the lobby of the jail. It was a sparsely decorated room, with a cabinet against one wall, and a desk and chair against the other. A small window let in what little light was still lingering about outside. Alexis’s attention was drawn to the large cabinet. The two small doors on it were locked with a heavy lock. Michael walked over to it and struck at the hasps holding the lock with the butt of his gun. The hasps tore off and fell to the floor with a heavy clang, and the small doors creaked open. Inside lay many items, no doubt most belonging to men who were rotting in the dungeons and to those who had met their fate on the gallows, but Alexis had eyes only for his guns. They sat there, emitting a deadly beauty, and seemed to be only waiting for his hands to pick them up. He couldn’t believe they were still there; he had feared that someone would take them. He picked them up, and cracked open both chambers to find that they were still loaded. He reached back into the cabinet and pulled out his ammunition pouch and his money pouch, both of which felt lighter to him, and attached them to his belt.<
br />
“I’m surprised to find you here,” Alexis said to Michael as he rushed to the door. “I would have thought you would have moved on by now ... unless king Aeiron is keeping you here?”
“I was on my way,” Michael growled. “I was back on the road when this girl reached me.”
Alexis looked to Leah behind them. “It seems I have much to thank you for.”
Leah looked abashed. “Well ... I remembered having seen him at the inn when I played there, so I knew he would not be far off.”
Alexis looked at both Michael and Leah. “If we are to do this, then let’s do it now and get it over with.”
Michael smirked as he pulled out his other gun from beneath the small coat he wore in the Mareth fashion. “We‘ll show them what the Legion is about.”
Leah looked at them both uncertainly. “I will wait with the horses.”
Alexis nodded. He looked at the guns in his hands, and then up at Michael. “Let’s end this, then.”
3
The three stepped outside into the gloomy silence that seemed to grip the entire city around them. A cry of jubilation went up from farther away, and was followed by others, but not nearly enough as the size of the crowd seemed to warrant. For the most part the silence held a melancholy quietness to it.
The town square was to their left as they descended the stone steps, and was entirely taken up by the crowd, staring inward. The three stood there a moment, looking at the placid crowd.
“I will bring the horses around across the street to the alley,” Leah said. “There are only two ... I do not know what good it will do.”
“Have them waiting,” Michael told her.
Alexis said nothing. He only stared towards that crowd, feeling an impatience to be off. He was startled when Michael placed a hand on his shoulder.