AND THERE WAS DRUM ROLL
There was drum roll. The rhythmic banging had begun just as he had stepped onto the rocky hill. Headman's hill was like a miniature, flat, mountaintop, though grass had somehow overcome the obstacles that the rocky ground had presented upon it, and had infiltrated the surface of the hill. On the tip a large wooden platform stood hovering over the camp set on top of the hill, the gallows erected upon the platform as ominous as they were supposed and threatening like death. It was raining, always did on days like these, almost like the gods would purposefully make it rain on days of death.
It continued raining although the sky was not full of clouds, and you could see the sunrise from the east. Sunrises were always stunning, this one even more so; like a pillar of fire the sun rose from the horizon coloring the sky red and yellow, and like jewelry a rainbow appeared into the horizon.
The cold rain felt odd on his skin. He hadn’t notice that he had stopped walking until the guard jabbed him with a spear.
“Come on you, get going,” the guard commanded. Brian didn’t dare answer, fearing what the guard might do with the spear if he dared to say anything. He ascended upon the platform when the prosecutor started to speak. “Captain Brian James Giligam. You are hereby charged of treachery against the holy crown of the emperor. Smuggling and destroying weapons of the crown for the enemy; freeing enemy prisoners; murder of a guardsman on duty and-” the stubby man looked up from his notes. His left eye was encircled by a black bruise “-and assaulting a government official.”
A man wearing a black hood over his head came to Brian. The man took a thick rope, and tied it around Brian's head; the drum roll ceased. “And are hereby sentenced to death by hanging,” the sentence was followed by the bang of a closing book.
The stubby man looked at Brian distastefully. “Any last requests, captain?” he asked.
Brian kept a hard face. “Only for you to go to hell,” he spat on the ground. The stubby man gave Brian a sobering look. “I am sorry, but I may be unable to carry out with your request,” he nodded to the black hooded man next to Brian. The man walked to a lever on Brian’s left side and took hold.
Brian took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
This is it, he thought.
He heard the executor take a deep breath too. Then the he pulled the lever. Brian snapped his eyes open as he felt the floor beneath him falter. He heard himself scream in terror as he fell, trying to free his arms in the air. He could feel the strain on his neck, pressure pushing onto him, making it harder to breathe, and then… Snap! The rope broke; he sprawled to the ground, gasping for the air that had just been denied from him. It Actually worked! he though. He tried to get up with his hands tied to his back, which proved to be surprisingly hard, while trying to lift himself with only his legs. He accomplished to put himself into something like a kneel, and then heaved himself up. He spun his face around, trying to see all the directions at the same time, looking for an escape. He was surrounded by guards.
Figures, he thought, Just my luck. he positioned his back against a pole that kept the platform up, to protect his back, while feverishly trying to find an opening in the lines. He saw the prosecutors face. The bastard was smiling, the cruel eagerness of murder playing in his eyes. Anger filled Brian, pushing aside his terror.
That slive, he thought. Someday I'm gonna gut him good.
A guardsman jumped at Brian, interrupting his thoughts, trying to slash a sword through him. Brian turned away from the slash just in the nick of time, and let the sword cut open the ropes holding his hands. He grabbed the weapon hand of the young looking man before the poor chap could regain his balance. He then pulled the hand towards himself, brought the guard's hand on his knee with crushing impact. He let go, and the man landed to the ground, sobbing with pain. Brian lifted the guard's sword from the ground. He stepped besides the guard, and slit his throat open with practised efficiency. All of this had happened within mere seconds.
The next guard who ran at him was faced with a fatal blow from the sword, severing his stomach, cutting cleanly through his chain mail shirt, sending his blood, and worse, tumbling to the ground in a bloody mass. Brian didn't even spare a second look for the two, still fresh, bodies; this was how he made his living, and grieving for the enemy had never helped him.
Brian was trying to concentrate. He could keep this up for sometime, but not forever. The guards would overpower him eventually.
Where is he?! he asked himself.
Brian was actually worried for one terror filled second that the man wouldn't come, but the sudden sound of the alert bell, rang by one of the guards, indicated that his help had arrived... though late it was.
The guard lines broke as an ironclad man on a heavily armored horse rode through the lines, followed by a cohort of cavalry men. The guards hadn’t been ready, and many were now sprawling on the ground bleeding to death because of the impact dealt to them from behind. Thanks the momentum that their surprise attack had inflicted upon the guard lines, the horsemen were able to push an opening through the mass of the guards.
The ironclad man rode to Brian in the general confusion of the battle and then signaled the others to retreat. Brian hastily mounted the horse, sitting behind the soldier.
“You're late,” Brian said as they were riding away.
“Better late than never,” answered the man. Brian could see him grinning. He snorted, couldn’t help but smile himself.
They rode away from the hill before the guards men could regroup.
The execution had been supposedly secret, due to the fact that the notoriously loyal subordinates of Brian Giligam might try to free him, and was kept on the hill instead of the capital. But there had been a slight mistake in the plans… They didn’t know just how loyal the men could be.
The sunrise worked for them, making it harder for archers to hit them.
Hah! Brian thought. I’d give anything to see Leo’s face now.
Well that’s what you get for being over confident of the secrecy of your affairs. He thought with a smug smile upon his face.
“Rex,” he said to the man riding the horse.
“Yes captain?” Rex asked
“Take us to Preacher's grove.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Rex altered their course and they started their march to freedom.
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