Wrath of the Storm (Mark of the Thief 3) - Page 57

Seeing my failure to do as he asked, Crispus said, "I will take care of both Livia and Aurelia. And your mother and Radulf too; they will all remain safe for as long as I live."

"Thank you." I didn't ask him to marry Aurelia or refuse him permission to marry Livia. As far as I was concerned, Crispus had done more than enough to prove himself my truest friend. Whatever path made him happiest, I couldn't refuse him. I only regretted that at the end of his decision, either Livia or Aurelia would end up alone.

Aurelia tore through the crowd again, and this time I followed her eye to the sword at the side of the soldier standing between us.

"Stop her," I whispered to Crispus. "For her sake."

Crispus left me and ran to her, closing her in his arms and pressing her back into the crowd. At first she fought him, attempting to cross past him and get to that sword. But he held her tight and whispered something to her; then she let the tears fall and embraced him. Her shoulders were shaking with sorrow as I passed them, and only in the last moment of my passing did she look up. Her eyes were red and already swollen.

I pulled back from the soldiers, long enough to say, "Don't tell my family what happened here. Tell them anything about this moment, except the truth."

She nodded, allowing more tears to fall, but didn't seem to trust herself with words and only embraced Crispus again, burying her head in his shoulder. This time, I didn't mind that. I wanted someone there to comfort her, and I was glad it could be him. In his own way, he loved her too.

The platform was accessed by three wooden steps. Here at the base, they seemed as tall as a mountain, one from which I would never descend. I hesitated for a moment, searching within myself for the courage to climb them so I would not have to be carried up there like a coward. A soldier nudged my back, and then I somehow made it to the first step. After that, it was easier to climb the rest.

The executioner waiting at the top was almost as still as a statue. His eyes staring back at me seemed lifeless, and I wondered, with every execution he had performed, if a bit of his own life had been taken too. Perhaps that was the reason the vestalis had not wanted me to kill Brutus in the arena. Perhaps she understood that no matter what it did to Brutus, what it would take from me was far worse.

Although if I was being honest, it didn't seem that way at the moment. Nothing seemed worse than where I now stood. Crispus still stared at me from the crowd, and I could almost picture him telling me that of all the methods of execution Rome might have used, this was one of the more preferred. By whom? I wondered. Who would prefer this?

A flat stone was set in the center of the platform with a basket in the front of it. I knew how this would go. I would be made to kneel before the stone and lay my head upon it. The executioner's ax would fall upon my neck, separating two halves of my body that I would have preferred to keep in one piece. I hoped that at least I'd bleed all over the executioner and ruin his tunic. It wasn't much payback for what he was about to do, but it was the last thing I had left.

"Kneel," a soldier ordered.

I remained on my feet. "Before I do, I must hear Caesar's decision. Will he pardon Atroxia? She has bee

n punished long enough." When that still failed to get the emperor's attention, even more loudly, I called, "Pardon her, Caesar! You must, because if you don't, after my death, nothing will save you from her revenge."

Far behind me, Probus gestured with his hands, an acknowledgment of what I had asked. A silent but clear pardon of Atroxia's crimes.

Inside my head, Atroxia's voice returned. "I am forgiven?" she asked. "It is over?"

It was better, but far from over. Diana's curse remained upon her, and there was nothing I could do about that, not anymore. I didn't know whether the pardon would allow Atroxia's soul to journey to the Elysian Fields, but I hoped so. I hoped that despite my crimes, I might wake up there too.

"Now you will kneel," the executioner said. "I can do this while on your feet, but if I miss, you pay the price for it."

"Remove the Praetor's armband first," Crispus said, stepping forward again. Aurelia remained back amongst the crowd, refusing to look at me. But he had Aurelia's satchel, which meant the amulets were only a few feet away from me. If the armband was removed, and if he could get an amulet into my hand, I had a chance.

To the executioner, Crispus added, "Give this boy that one dignity, of dying without the token of his enemy on his arm."

The executioner raised his blade and wedged it between the slit of the thin silver band. He angled the blade enough to separate the pieces until the lock broke, and he pulled it from my arm.

It was as if he had removed a thousand-pound weight from me, one that had affected my ability to think and even to breathe. I felt an immediate spark within the Divine Star, and Crispus grinned and nodded very slightly at the satchel. He loosened the string around it and moved as if to reach inside it. Already I could sense the magic he held, close enough to save my life.

But it was not to be. The soldiers who had dragged me here came down the steps and grabbed Crispus by the arms, forcing him back to the crowd that had surrounded this platform. They stood in front of him, preventing either him or Aurelia from darting forward with the amulets.

He still stood close enough that I could feel the yearning of the amulets to return to me. At the same time, they were so far away. Like a scent of fresh baked bread that I would never be allowed to taste.

Impatient with my slowness to kneel, the executioner pushed at my back, directly over the Divine Star. Enough magic was in me now to flinch when he did, but not enough to fight back, so I still fell to my knees. The Divine Star could not erase my hunger or exhaustion, and it was not coming back strong enough on its own. In the time I had left, there wouldn't be enough. Magic wouldn't save me this time.

"Lower your head," the executioner ordered.

The stone in front of me was cold and smooth. I stared at it and then looked into the audience once more for Aurelia. Crispus was holding her again, so her back was turned to me. I was glad for that. I couldn't bear the thought of her having to see this.

I looked again at the stone, and suddenly, I knew there was going to be a fight. Because I could not and would not put my head down upon it. Even if I lacked enough magic to save me from that blade, Aurelia had been right before. I still had two good legs and arms, and a strong enough heart to use them. It wouldn't change the way the next few minutes ended for me, but at least I would go down with honor.

Or would I? For the moment I started to rise back to my feet, a nearby soldier grabbed the chains that bound my arms and yanked them to the floor of the platform. My body went with it, and cold stone slammed against my cheek. The execution stone.

"Whichever god will still hear you, this is your time to call to him," the executioner said. Even without looking, I knew he had raised his blade.

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024