The northerner had been foolish. Attacking him alone, outnumbered when he was surrounded by his guards and people. He felt respect for the barbarian’s brave attempt to end his life.
He had been outside Caravanserai when the attack came. He had been there, in Kopshef, to evaluate the rebuilding in the province. Surrounded by his closest men, his most dedicated servants and followers, he had been attacked. He was angry and furious. How could they have let him get so close? Why hadn´t this Cimmerian dog been spotted and killed? Instead he had been wounded by the Cimmerian and found himself having a rather deep cut in his right side. Sinteph had been worried but he hadn´t let her attend to the wound. Instead he let it bleed.
The Cimmerian had been unconscious when he was dragged into the Caravanserai plaza. Commoners gathered around, eager to look at this spectacle, eager to see his rage and justice. This Cimmerian was to be slowly tortured for his insult. But this wasn’t the whole reason for the coming torture. This was personal. He ordered his men to tie the northerner after stripping him. The northerner was first beaten by blunts to soften him up a bit. The barbarian didn’t scream, instead he sounded like a wild animal fighting some other wild animal.
- You have been brought here to stand trial. You are accused of touching a stygian girl, of touching a priests daughter and also…to have raped this child of a Set priest. How do you plead to this northerner? Imotephs eyes looked at the barbarian lying before his feet. He was quiet and didn’t answer but instead gazed into Imotephs eyes seemingly full of hatred.
- Again! Imoteph made a sign for his men to continue. Bazuth and Samun smiled and once again started to cover the barbarian with blows. Imoteph could hear the sound when the heavy weapons landed upon the human muscles and meat. He still didn’t scream. Imoteph was getting irritated. He decided for other methods. He looked at Ozric, the archer to his left, gestured for him to step forward and closer.
- Bring me a few hammers, some thick heavy nails and lots of boiling water. Imoteph smiled at the barbarian, the priestess Sinteph laughed and so did his men. However, the barbarian didn’t. He showed no expression at all. Perhaps he understood what was about to happen? Perhaps he was in shock, scared of his coming death? It was hard to know for sure since he now was covered in his own blood. Ozric disappeared quickly, making his way through the crowd.
- How do you plea to these accusations infidel? Imoteph asked once more. The northerner smiled, his face bloody, his lips in pieces and missing a tooth here and there. – I…. will soon …..meet…. Crom… my god! I will…. Soon.. sit.. by… his side ….and drink mead…. together… with…. Crom. The northerner spoke slowly, breathing heavily.
- Khnom! Make this northerner bleed for me, let your daggers dance on his skin! Give him the dance of Adjera. Imoteph gestured to Khnom, one of his assassins. A good man and a strong believer, a holy warrior and by such – a Djeret. Surely this would bring pain upon the northerner, surely this would make him cry of pain as a little puppy. Khnom draw his blades and started to cutting and stabbing the Cimmerian. Not lethal but very painful. No screaming, no begging. Instead grunts like those from some wild animal. Then suddenly, silence. Imoteph looked down at the barbarian, the Cimmerian from the Fearghal clan. What a mess this was, what a waste of time. Ozric appeared again with some other men. They were carrying tools it seemed and a big bowl between them. They put the bowl down on the ground and laid the hammers and big nails down before Imotephs feet. Imoteph smiled slowly and nodded to Ozric and the other men.
- Wake him up! Imoteph nodded at Samun and Bazuth again. Both kicked the barbarian hard as to wake him up which he did. The barbarian seemed disoriented and confused for a second.
- I have judged you, Set has judged you. You have been found guilty for your crimes against Stygia and the Stygians. You have been found guilty for your crimes against my family and therefore against Set. This is a serious crime and therefore there can be only one sentence for this. Imoteph looked out on the crowd and his followers, his people. With a high voice he started to speak. He could feel the pain from his cut now. He could feel the pain from it. He forced himself to put the pain aside, to hide it deep within. Not showing this sign of weakness.
- I sentence you to death northerner by crucifixion upon the tree of Woe. Imoteph smiled and gestured at the hammers and nails lying before his feet. He continued; - And for your crimes you shall be tortured before being crucified. Hear me all! This is what awaits criminals and enemies of Set! All see this and let this be a lesson for you all! This is the will of me Imoteph! This is the will of Set! He looked down at the barbarian now. He smiled kindly towards him. Do you understand this infidel? Do you have any last words? Any last words at all?
- What….you…say…is…all…lies. I haven’t…done…what…you…say…she…wanted…this. The barbarian smiled slowly and spitted out some blood. He coughed and stared at Imoteph.
Imoteph smiled. He gestured towards the boiling water. – This man is thirsty; give him some water to drink. Please give our guest some water. Samun nodded and walked towards the bowl with hot boiling water. Imoteph turned around and closed his eyes. The priestess Sinteph was standing close to him, she spoke quietly to Imoteph: - This man deserves to die. He mocks us by not screaming and not begging for his life. Shall I kill him now prophet? She asked in her soft beautiful voice. – No priestess. Not yet. Let him suffer some more. He could hear how Samun poured the boiling water over the barbarians face and torso; he could in his heart almost feel the pain from it. He didn’t hear the barbarian scream but instead he grunted, moaning heavily. The Cimmerian became silent again, quiet. Imoteph wasn´t pleased at all. Where was the begging? Where was the crying? He had promised himself to break this man completely. To have him crawl like a crazy dog from all his pain and to beg him to end his life quickly. The Fearghal spirit was stronger than he thought. He slowly nodded to himself thinking what to do next.
- Prophet? What shall we do now? The uiui is unconscious, Sinteph suddenly said. – May I kill him now prophet? End his life now? She spoke with a gentle, almost lovingly and kind, voice. Imoteph closed his eyes and was silent for a moment.
- No you may not priestess, this man is mine. His life belongs to me, Imoteph said while thinking. He decided what to do and opened his eyes and found himself looking at a fat peasant staring at the spectacle with an open mouth, looking like a fool. He gave the fat peasant a piercing stare with his green reptilian eyes as in threatening him to be next. The peasant looked down, still with his mouth open.
They stood there waiting some minutes. Imoteph told the villagers of Caravanserai to bring him and his followers wine and food. The villagers did as they was told fearing Imotephs wrath. They slowly ate while looking at the piece of bloody meat who once had been a proud and strong Cimmerian. Imoteph was standing before the barbarian having a goblet of wine in his right hand. He gestured to Samun and Bazuth again as for them to continue.
- Wake him up again! Imoteph said in a loud voice, giving his followers an order. – Wake up infidel! Wake up! The prophet wishes to speak to you! Bazuth kicked the northerner hard again and there was a sound of ribs breaking. With the help of others they pulled the Cimmerian up on his knees and the Cimmerian slowly opened his eyes once more.
Imoteph looked into the Cimmerians eyes. There was still fire within them, hate and life.
- More water! Give him more water! Imoteph said in a kind voice. Samun once again let the boiling water cover the barbarian. Before he passed out he smiled and looked into Imotephs eyes. What was this? What kind of a man was this? This wasn’t the first time Imoteph had tortured a man and it wouldn’t be the last. People used to cry and beg. People used to beg him to be kind and let them meet Set or whatever god the worshipped. Not this one. Very well Imoteph thought. He can´t die yet. He mustn’t.
Imoteph ordered his followers to take the northerner with them. The crowd at the caravanserai plaza looked after them when they left by horse. A couple of hours later they stood before the tree of Woe. It was a beautiful mighty dead tree. Bazuth and Samun started to crucify the Cimmerian. He was unconscious most of the ritual, awakening from time to time just to pass out from the pain. Imoteph smiled and remembered the last crucifixion here. It had been an Aquilonian, spreading the words of Mitra. It had been a young man, a young foolish priest. What was his name again? Jomath was it? Yes. The man had cried and tried to beg to Mitra for rescuing him. Mitra hadn´t helped him. Mitra never did. Mitra was a weak god. Imoteph smiled. Jomath had died there and Imoteph had watched him doing so. Perhaps Jomath was with Mitra now? Perhaps he had done the young priest a favor? Spreading another god’s name in Stygia was forbidden and punished by death. User-maat-Set, great is the justice of Set Imoteph quietly said while nodding.
- Prophet! Your will has been done! Bazuth was standing beside the crucified man together with the giant man from Punt. Both smiled proudly. Imoteph stepped down from his horse and slowly walked up to the Cimmerian nailed to the giant tree. The infidel had been placed in the praise Set position. His both arms over his head in the respectful position you greet Set priests and priestesses as well as all shrines and idols of the old serpent.
- Look at me northerner! Look…at..me, Imoteph said in a demanding voice. Samun took a step up on the tree and grabbed the Cimmerians hair pulling his head up. It was hard to actually see if the barbarian’s eyes was closed or open, they were so swollen.
- I did this to you! I, Imoteph! You deserve nothing less for what you did! Your kind does not deserve anything less! This is my justice, this is my rage. My revenge! He spit on the northerner and then smiled. – Come, we now go to Khemi loved ones, Imoteph said. He made a sign to Khnom and Bazuth to come close. – Go to the shadows and wait, do not attack anything or anybody. Instead wait until the infidel is dead. Do you understand this? Imoteph said while looking into their eyes. Both nodded. Arriving in Bubshur all he could think of was the harmony he felt deep within and the repeating echo in his mind. User-maat-Set.
Story written by Imoteph, Set Mosis
Based on an actual In-game event
No comments:
Post a Comment