The Dark Citadel

Untitled Part 9

Something big was planned, he knew. Was it true that the Duke was a heretic? The city held two churches, large structures dedicated to the God Annis. The true God, the one that the priests spoke of. Everything else, the priest told him, was demon worship. Heretics and murderers worshipped demons, and the priest said that they might be hiding amongst them, pretending.But hearing about it like a scary story and actually allowing the idea to hold credence were totally different things. What would they do to the Duke if he was a demon worshipper? What about his family?What about Suzanne?Petro hurried toward the town center along with the masses of people. Everyone had come out, bakers, farmers, workers. Today was turning into an auspicious day, Petro decided. He had to get there. He had to find Suzanne and set her free. He wouldn't let them call her a demon worshipper. She was a good girl. His friend.He rounded a bend in the road and saw the town center spread out before him. Hundreds of people were gathered, separated into two groups and with a line of knights down the center. There was a thrum as people engaged in low conversations, punctuated by the occasional shout from the guards or commoners.To the right was a smaller group. Many of the richer folk were gathered there, as well as the Duke and his family. His household guard as well. To the left was a much larger group of commoners and poor people. The uneducated. As Petro approached one of the knight's came over to him. This one was older than the first two and fatter. He looked bored and tired and was carrying a clipboard."Name?""Petro," Petro replied. "Do you have a family name?""No," he said. The Knight made a note on the clipboard."Do you follow Mithras?""Who?""The demon lord, Mithras," the man replied, yawning. "Do you worship him?"Petro shook his head. He'd never even heard of Mithras in his six years on Earth. He glanced over at the gathered groups. "Is that why..." he started to say, then trailed off. His ears went scarlet and his heart started beating faster. The knight looked down at him over the clipboard amused."...why they are in two groups?" the knight finished. "Yes. The ones on the left are good citizens. The ones on the right are heretics.""What are you going to do to them?"The man chuckled. "The Knights are setting up The Mistress as we speak. We call her Riss.""Riss?" Petro asked, confused."The mother of our Lord Annis," the knight said, then gently patted Petro on the shoulder. "I suggest that the next time you hear her name, you recognize it."Petro nodded. If she was related to the Lord of Light, then Petro had best learn about her. He didn't want to be declared a heretic."Go to the left group," the knight said, turning toward another person walking in. Petro started toward the milling crowd, scanning faces and looking for Suzanne. He ran up and down the outside of the clustered group, shoving his way through, before realizing the truth he'd already suspected.She wasn't in the left group.He didn't dare cross over to the right group for fear they wouldn't let him leave, but he dodged around his own side trying to locate her. Finally, he spotted her near the front of the right cluster. He waved at her, trying to get her attention, but she didn't seem to notice. She looked terrified and confused, but at least she wasn't with those cruel Knights anymore.He heard a grinding sound, followed by a series of muffled thumps. The knights and guards surrounding the citizens were pounding the butts of their spears into the ground. The last of the milling people had been brought in and separated, and now they were all surrounded on the outside by a line of Imperial Guards and Knights from the Order Annis. The crowd hushed as an enormous platform was wheeled into the square. On it stood a tall man in white robes with a thick black mustache and jet black hair. He stood calm as the platform was wheeled to a stop in front of the crowd. Behind him on the platform stood a large device with two poles sticking up into the air and attached by a beam at the top. At the bottom was a sheet of wood that reminded him of stocks where people would be stuck and left for days as punishment. But this one didn't have holes for the hands or a hinge, but just a hole for a head.At the top was a blade. It looked rusty and old but the angled edge gleamed in the torchlight. The crowd stared at it in quiet amazement.A man near Petro spoke: "Gods help us. It's the guillotine."A minute passed in silence. No one else dared to speak, and all eyes were on the priest. That minute stretched into two, and finally he stepped forward, to the edge of the platform. His eyes swept over them, not settling anywhere in particular but seeming to take them all in. When he spoke, his voice was deep and rhythmic:"The Lord of Light gives us everything. All we are. All we become. These are His gifts to us. His love for us. He is a generous Lord who watches out for and protects his people. He gives us everything, yet asks for very little in return."There are some who won't accept his gifts. They scorn what they do not understand and mock that which they cannot see. Such people are to be pitied, for it is only through His light that we can be made whole."And there are others still who do understand. They understand what the Lord offers and yet willfully disobey His will. They seek to do harm to others and seek to disavow His teachings. Such people are heretical in nature and disastrous to culture. We priests are shepherds. We tend to the Lord's flock and look after His people. But we are also gardeners. We seek out the weeds that run rampant in His garden and root them out. Only after the garden is purified of suffocating weeds can the Lord's flowers truly flourish."Here he paused, letting his words sink in over the crowd. It was the middle of the day, but overcast and cloudy. A rainy day, the kind on which Petro would lounge inside, listening to the pitter patter against the roof. Thunder rolled in the distance. Torches were lit and passed out amongst the guards.The priest waited for several minutes before spreading his arms to the sky."As you can see, the Lord's light is diminished here. Here, in this duchy, there is corruption. No one here can know the Lord's love and the Lord's grace because you are all being suffocated by the weeds of those which would do you harm. Those who scorn His will. Those who worship demons."A communal gasp rang out in the crowds. One man from the right group shouted "Mithras is not a demon!" before receiving the butt of a spear into his stomach, knocking his wind away.The priest waited patiently. Gradually, the crowd settled. Then he spoke:"But our Lord is a benevolent Lord. He believes that all of us, no matter how small or weak, deserve a second chance. We are imperfect beings living in an imperfect world. We can be better, if only we know the way.""What is the way?" a man shouted. This time it came from the left group."Teach us!" a woman shouted."Save us priest!" another woman shouted. This received a ragged cheer. The priest held up his hands, quieting them."The Lord loves you all. But today we are here to witness his wrath. There are those who cannot be saved. Today those people will be purged in His light. And, like the phoenix that must experience death to be reborn, so too will this duchy be reborn in the light of our Lord!"This time the cheer was louder from many of the peasants. Petro wasn't really paying attention. He was trying to think of some way to get to Suzanne and slip out. They were small, and people rarely noticed children. Maybe they could blend into the crowd and sneak past the guards..."Bring forth the unbelievers," the priest said, raising his hands to the sky, "and together we shall be reborn!"Six guards walked to the right group. The first guard grabbed the duke and pulled him away. The second grabbed his wife. The third grabbed the Captain of the Guard, and the forth and fifth grabbed the thirteen year old son of the Duke and a nobleman in expensive clothing. All five were unarmed and struggled but little as they were dragged forward. The sixth guard, Petro saw in horror, grabbed Suzanne. He dragged her forward with the rest to The Mistress. She didn't struggle, but had a look of sheer terror on her face that made Petro sick. The Duke was led first to The Mistress and forced to his knees. The priest raised his hands to the sky again. "Lord, we offer You this heretic that You might forgive these good people. Will you find it in Your heart to accept our offering?"Then he turned to the Duke. "If you have any final words, speak them now and be damned."The Duke, on his knees, looked up at the priest. "Your God is silent priest. Remember that when you go to your bed. Remember that and ask yourself if their really is an afterlife for you.""I know of theKingdomofHeaven, promised to all who offer their heart to Him. What has your God promised you?""More than you could ever imagine."The priest smiled. "Then perhaps you can prove me wrong. When you arrive there, come back and tell us if Mithras kept his word."With a wave of the priest's hand, the Duke was pushed forward so his head was through the hole. The crowd was silent. The blade fell. It hit the bottom, separating the two sides of the hole, and the Duke's head thudded to the wooden deck. It rolled several feet before the priest put his foot on it, stopping it in place.The Duke's eyes were open, seeming to stare out over the crowd. Petro looked into those eyes, expecting vacancy and finding understanding instead. Horrified, terrified, and full of understanding. Gradually, the understanding faded away, but the eyes remained open.Those eyes, Petro knew, would haunt his dreams.The priest cocked his head to the side, listening. "I hear nothing. Perhaps he never made it to his other side.""You mock, priest, and the mockery makes you a coward."The man who spoke was the Guard Captain. The priest stepped away from the Duke's head and walked over to the Guard Captain. "I mock that which is beneath my contempt," the priest said. "And your insult means nothing when it comes from a heretic. You reside beneath my contempt and consideration. You are nothing. A scavenger on the desires of other men. You prey upon their weakness and turn them away from their only chance of salvation. You consort with demons and drink the blood of virgins."The captain laughed. "You are clearly as ignorant as you are self-righteous.""Spoken like a man afraid to die."The captain shook his head. "No, I am not afraid to die. I've made my peace. What you do today is out of fear and stupidity. You accuse me of the manipulation which you have perfected. These people you shepherd over? You make them into sheep. Mithras makes us strong. All of us. He doesn't force some into poverty so you can Lord over them like a child with an ant hill. And this is why, priest, you and yours will fail."The priest took a step forward, smiling. But it was a cruel smile. "Will I? Maybe. But not today. I'm sorry, but today it is not my head on the chopping block."Two men grabbed the Captain and dragged him to The Mistress. They forced him down, shoved his head through the hole, and only a second later the blade sung. Another head rolled across the wooden machine. Blood poured down, drenching the sands.