Sergeant Iasus stomped down the steps to the Dalertine prison, his face contorted with disgust. Holding the oil lamp high, he approached the bars of the cell and saw the four inmates huddled on the wooden pallets.
“General Caerdin?”
Kiva stood slowly with some stiffness and made his way toward the bars.
“Sergeant?” he replied. “Is there a problem?”
The young martinet nodded. Placing the oil lamp on the shelf, he straightened. “Lord Velutio has made his decree I’m afraid.”
The other three now stirred in the rear of the cell. Kiva nodded solemnly.
“Not good news then” he noted.
“No.” The sergeant sighed. “His lordship has ordered that you be taken to the gardens in an hour’s time and that you’re all crucified. I’m personally not happy with this, but it’s my duty to follow the orders.”
Kiva nodded. “I’m surprised that Commander Sabian didn’t come down to give us the tidings personally.”
The sergeant’s face shifted but Kiva couldn’t identify the emotion.
“The commander refused to be involved and I can’t say I disagree with him. He’s left the city less than an hour ago and I’m not sure whether he’ll be back. This isn’t the way for a soldier to go… crucifixion’s for criminals.” Iasus took a deep breath. “You have an hour to make your peace with the Gods and then we have to carry out the sentence.”
After almost two weeks in the dark, damp hole even death lost its sting if it meant seeing the sky again. Kiva nodded. “That’s not necessary for me, but the others will need it. I’ll await your return though sergeant.”
Iasus nodded curtly and went to pick up the oil lamp. He paused for a moment without picking it up and then shook his head before walking off into the dark and toward the stairs.
Quintillian moved forward to join Kiva at the bars as the general mused to himself. “I wonder what Sabian’s up to. Can’t believe he’d quite his position over us, but would Velutio really just let him go for this? I think not.”
“That’s it then” Quintillian said, defeat in his voice. “We’re going to die in an hour.”
“I wish it were that good” replied the general. “It starts in an hour, but crucifixion takes days. You slowly succumb to hunger and thirst. Then there’s exhaustion, the ropes and the spikes in your limbs. Chances are they’ll beat us and cut us as well, but not too much. Velutio won’t want us to die too soon or too easily. In the end the birds will start to peck at us, but hopefully we’ll be dead by then.”
Kiva glanced up and saw the look on the boy’s face.
“I’m sorry Quintillian. I didn’t think. But it helps to be prepared for whatever they have in mind. Velutio doesn’t need to torture us now. He’s won. But he wants to torture us; he wants to take it all out on us, and he can’t afford to leave any of us alive.” He patted Quintillian on the shoulder. “Now go pray. I’ll stand watch here.” He grinned. “The Gods don’t listen to me anyway.”
It was less than an hour, in fact, when Iasus and a small party of men came down the stairs and brought the four prisoners from their dark pit. The morning sun was dazzling as they were taken out into the main courtyard for the first time in two weeks. Their hands were cuffed once more and none could shade their eyes from the glare, causing them to squint as they walked and to tread carefully until their sight adjusted.
The half dozen guards split up and walked to either side of their charges, with Iasus behind, solemn and stony faced. The small group marched through the archway and back into merciful shadow for a few moments before they burst out into the Imperial gardens, with the morning sun halfway up the eastern sky and glaring directly into their faces. The gardens were almost empty. No grand execution for these four; their deaths would remain as unknown as their lives and their ‘crimes’ to the world in general. There were perhaps a score of guards in the gardens on patrol and at stationary posts and a party of four men standing by the few individual trees on the central lawn. Kiva made a quick count. In actual fact, only twenty two guards, but what chance would they have even if they made it to the cliff? He nudged Julian, limping alongside him, and gestured across the gardens with his head.
“Think we’d ever make it?” he whispered.
Julian rumbled deep in his throat. “Might make it to the wall, but could we survive the drop?”
“Then we’ve no choice but to be crucified. Is that any better?”
As the two silently mulled over their chances, Julian was suddenly pushed aside as Alessus started to run. The guards by their sides took a strangely long moment to notice what was happening, and then with a yell started their own run. Kiva stuck out a foot and watched the first guard go tumbling over onto his face. Julian had apparently had much the same idea, slumping and knocking the next guard out of line. As the six guards called a warning to their fellows around the garden, they hauled their other three prisoners back and restrained them painfully. Julian cried “run man!” and Kiva and Quintillian tried to join in the encouraging shout before the arms locked round their throats, preventing them from speaking and almost from breathing. Alessus, never a great runner, but a fit and tactical military man with thirty years of combat experience, slowed as he reached a small knot of trees and gardens. Kiva saw him disappear behind a box hedge and there was no sign for a moment until four more guards reached the same spot and started searching the various hiding places. As they entered, Kiva saw Alessus break out of a hedge almost where he’d first entered, doubling back and making for the low border wall. With a skip and a vault, he disappeared over the edge.
Tense seconds passed as Kiva, Quintillian and Julian craned forward for any sign of what had happened to their comrade. The guards were now converging on the spot he’d crossed the wall. From the shouts of consternation among them, Kiva could safely assume that Alessus had begun to climb the slow climb down the rock face. He smiled, but the smile slid from his face a moment later as another group of guards armed with short recurve bows appeared from a doorway at the other end of the gardens. Behind them Velutio himself appeared with a number of his personal guard. With shouts the lord directed them to the wall and, as the archers began to fire vertically down the cliff face, other guards began to collect stones near the path and to drop them over the edge. Kiva held his breath, shaking slightly.
And then there was a distant scream, becoming more and more distant by the second as Alessus, struck through with an arrow and battered by other missiles, came loose from the treacherous cliff and bounced down the jagged rocks far down to the sea and the reefs below. Kiva pictured for a moment the broken body splayed across the sharp watery rocks and had to shake his head to clear the vision. Hopefully the man had been dead before he was halfway down. He glanced round and Julian’s head was lowered.
Iasus merely said “stupid” and ushered them all forward again. The three of them and their six guards, now holding them tight, shuffled forward toward the trees in the centre. Kiva looked up and noted the four soldiers armed with tools and an ominous bag. The ropes to fasten wrists and ankles were already looped over branches and ready. Curiously there were only three trees set up. Either they were psychic or Velutio had other plans for one of them.
Once they reached the lawn and the guards brought them to a halt, Velutio and his personal guard were approaching across the grass from the direction of the perimeter wall. The old lord, unruffled and in civilian clothing, stopped several yards away from them and glared past Kiva at the sergeant behind.
“Can my entire army not keep four prisoners under control? Sabian’s been gone for less than two hours and already you’re falling to pieces!”
There was no answer from Iasus, so Kiva smiled and spoke. “So now you’ve driven Sabian away too.”
Velutio turned his glower to Kiva.