Directly behind the marble council hall, there stood a wooden stage. It was a simple stage by standards, but unlike all others in the bustling city. This theatre was avoided by most of the townsfolk of Andron, for this particular stage held the stench and stain of death upon it. Yet on certain days people would gather around it, and this was such a day.
Thibalt and Christill stood at the base of the stage with Oswald directly behind them. An assortment of curious onlookers had gathered with them to catch a glimpse of the execution. Many came for enjoyment, to gain a glimpse of the excitement that was absent in their normal lives. Others felt it was their duty to watch the punishment of those who had strayed from Skiye's teachings. The brothers could not fathom how anyone would wish to witness such a thing.
A shrill horn announced the start of the processions and the crowd began to jeer and shout excitedly. The executioner, dressed in dark crimson clothes, stepped up onto the stage to the delight of the crowd. Christill wondered if his garb had been that colour to begin with, or had gained it during his deeds.
Following the executioner onto the stage were the two Miirvkin soldiers, pushed along by a pair of Andronian guards. They had been stripped of their clothes and now wore only their leather breeches. Though walking to their doom, they still held their heads high and stepped proudly up to the executioner's cutting block.
The block of wood itself was stained black with the congealed blood of the countless victims who had been forced under the executioner's axe. A basket lay at its base, also stained a deep red. The first Miirvkin warrior walked up and placed his head onto the chopping block without a struggle. These were honourable Miirvkin warriors; they would not show weakness to these commoners. The executioner then brought forth his axe, a ghastly double bladed weapon with a pointed spike at its peak.
Raising the axe high, and waiting a moment for greater effect, the executioner brought it down hard. Christill closed his eyes, unable to watch the horrific display. He heard the crunch of the axe as it passed through bone and the thud of it sinking into the block. The crowd cheered wildly as he heard something fall heavily into the basket.
Christill opened his eyes to see the guards dragging the headless corpse away from the block. A sinking feeling rose in his stomach and he was forced to fight against the sickness rising up his throat. Without further delay, the next Miirvkin placed his head upon the block. As he bent down, Christill saw the prisoner glance at him with a burning hatred in his eyes. The look sent a shiver down his spine.
The executioner raised his axe once more and brought it down with a crunch. Christill had closed his eyes again, unable to watch. He once again heard the bone splitting crunch, but noticed the heavy plonk into the basket was missing. A slight thud at his feet caused him to open his eyes and he looked down to see the severed head of the Miirvkin soldier lying face up in the dirt.
Christill swayed on his feet and could no longer hear anything. He later recalled seeing Oswald's face before he fell to the ground unconscious.
Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One) Page 27