At the center of Saint-Grato City, there was a raised wooden platform, surrounded by a large crowd of the city’s people, who had co to watch the event that was about to take place.
The sun bead down on those who were atop the platform. Roughly twenty female prisoners, dressed in rags and chained by their ankles and wrists, stood there.
Standing over them were nurous executioners waiting to deliver judgent.
Further back was a Bishop of Calvenus, who was announcing the reasons for the prisoners’ executions, and even further back was King Calvin XXXII, watching the display with so of his closest n beside him.
Executions were like watching theatre plays in the Kingdom of Calvin. Whilst so other kingdoms had abandoned such practices, the Calvenus worshippers saw execution as an opportunity to spread creativity.
They had nurous thods of execution available, which they believed would please their god. Drowning, hanging, beheading, stone-crushing, suffocation, neck-breaking.
There was not a thod of execution they were not willing to try.
As King Calvin stood back, stroking his golden beard as he watched the start of the event, he couldn’t help but smile.
"This is the right thing to do," he said to himself, but his n beside him heard. They nodded their heads to make sure they pleased him.
They did not want to risk being next.
...
Eventually, the bishop finished speaking, and it was ti to get started with the execution.
The executioners prepared their varied thods of execution, and the crowd fell silent as their concentration grew. They wondered which of the prisoners would be given which thod.
After a few minutes, it was ti for the first prisoner to be executed.
Her na was Natalia Petrov, and she was to face the standard thod of execution: beheading.
The prisoner with long brown hair and pale skin was pushed to the chopping block, yet her face remained stern the entire ti. The block was already bloody from where others had fallen in the past.
The crowd could no longer contain their excitent. They began chatting amongst themselves, and so children even cheered.
Calvin watched with anticipation. He looked forward to watching her head roll.
But before it could, the prisoners suddenly spoke in unison.
"Praise the Clown."
No one else seed to know what it ant, especially not the executioner. The man only paused for a mont and shrugged his shoulders before lifting his executioner’s blade high above his head and preparing to cleave through the woman’s neck.
He only stopped when King Calvin XXXII leapt from his chair.
"STOP!"
The entire crowd and those who were standing on the raised platform turned towards their king. There were looks of bewildernt on their faces.
"M-my King?" the bishop said, stumped.
Calvin ignored them and made his way over to the chopping block and the other prisoners. His white and black cape draped along the floor behind him as he walked.
Once there, he looked at each of the prisoners. So of them wore faces of confidence, whilst others were sweating profusely.
He focused on Natalia Petrov, as she was the one who seed most confident and least afraid.
"What did you just say?" He asked.
She didn’t hesitate before repeating.
"Praise the Clown. He will keep us safe. If not in this life, then the next."
"..."
King Calvin could only stand there, stumped by the woman’s words. He looked at the other prisoners on the platform, and most were nodding their heads in agreent with Natalia. So even tapped their noses. Was it a gesture of worship towards the god?
The bishop stepped forward, placing a hand on King Calvin’s shoulder.
"Your Majesty, they are blasphers, trying their best to rile us up with their final words. Let us ignore them and send their souls to hell."
King Calvin ignored the man. He bit his lip and scrutinised the kneeling woman before him.
Why doesn’t she have an ounce of fear on her face? Could her words be true? Is she really a follower of the Clown? Is the Clown really so powerful?
...
I do not want to make an enemy of the Clown. Great Calvenus will understand. We need him with us, not against us...
"Your Majesty?" the bishop repeated, not understanding why the king was not answering them and seed to be staring off into nothingness.
King Calvin was drawn from his trance and finally turned to address those with him.
"Release the prisoners. The execution is off."
The words cut through the crowd, earning sharp gasps and murmurs. Even those with the king could not believe it.
"B-but they are enemies of the kingdom. Enemies of our god!" the bishop repeated, emphasizing those last words.
King Calvin turned to him with a sharp gaze.
"The execution is off," he repeated coldly.
Since the king was so young, it was easy to forget that he was the strongest man in the nation. Such power ca through being nad Calvin, which was why it was now illegal for anyone but the king to hold such a na.
If he wished, he could kill the bishop, who was powerful himself, with one hand.
The bishop gulped. "Y-yes, Your Majesty."
...
anwhile, in the Milf’s Tavern...
A handso young man sat at a table, eating from a plate full of potatoes and cheap at. He had no clue what was happening in the neighbouring kingdom.
He was too focused on making sure that his stomach was full.
Once he was finished with his plate, he travelled back through the city, heading towards his tent.
As he looked up at the sunny skies, he couldn’t help but get the feeling that it was a good day.
He wondered...
Is this my premonition telling that my plan worked? Have the prisoners been saved?
He rembered what each of the won looked like when they arrived in his tent. He particularly rembered the woman who had so gleefully squirted around his fingers.
...
I do hope it works. It would be good to have a few new worshippers...
Reviews
All reviews (0)