Executions were not commonplace, but neither was an invasion.
A thousand curious Soranians had gathered in Geer Square to witness the killing of two Magnarian soldiers. Though early in the morning, the summer sun weighed heavily upon them and a stench like death hung over them. The military had erected a long rectangular platform at the center of the Square, draped in white cloth with a raised circular section at its center. Twenty Enforcers stood on one side while twenty soldiers stood on the other. The soldiers were on their knees, blindfolded.
A hulking man in ceremonial purple dress arms marched to the center between the two men. He raised his hand to his throat the said in a resounding voice, amplified by magic.
"For the crimes of espionage and attempting to incite a public violence, these men have been sentenced to death by beheading. These foreign soldiers were found hiding in the First Ring. They are responsible for dozens of our brothers' deaths during the last war, and more still since they entered the city."
"Have you any final words?"
The men said nothing and clamped their teeth in harsh defiance. The ceremonial figurehead nodded and two Enforcers stepped forward, each wielding a heavy sword. With a great swing, they relieved each man's head from his body.
"They must have given up more information than we got," Seneca observed. "They wouldn't waste prisoners if they hadn't extracted everything they could."
"They want to make a statement: These men have been caught and killed. You are safe, so you should not fear."
Marcus paused as a third man was dragged on stage. He was dressed in rags and not blindfolded like the rest.
"This man," stated the overseer, "is the worst of all. He is one of us, a Soranian. You can see plainly he is a broken, sad man. He assisted those men in entering our fair city, and helped in hiding them away.
"Have you any final words?"
"You do not represent me," spat the prisoner. "Your government is a farce. It is fittin' that my death may support the Magnarian, as my life has."
The overseer brought his hand down and man's head fell.
"I think they had a different message: Anyone who betrays Soran will be killed."
YOU ARE READING
The Old City
FantasyMarcus and Seneca are weary veterans from Soran's recent war with Magnar. Thirteen years ago, fate ripped these childhood friends apart and now throws them together again as they seek to recover their old selves and carve out a life that is more tha...
