Dubhaine Family/Moira/Roleplays/2008/February

February 15th - Akesh Temple

Drumhead tribunals were something Moira dreaded, the rushed trial of men who she would have preferred to give an honourable death in battle. But Akesh Temple had been a traitorous canker on Fontan's southern flank for many years and rooting out those who had actively sort to overthrow democracy and the rule of law for their own twisted religious ends required harsh measures.

She'd established her court in the palatial home of a now-dispossessed courtier and since the government of Akesh fell her men had been helping the newly-established police force hunt out saboteurs and black marketeers, the mufti-clad Yfain using his underworld connections to good effect. It was on one of these raids the day before that they'd caught a messenger for the resistance movement preparing to slip over the border to Caligus, and under forceful interrogation he'd given up the location of a safe-house in one of the outlying villages. Her men had fallen on the manor house just before dawn, their black peasant garb blending into the night, smashing the doors in with their fearsome axes and spreading panic through the building. Those who tried to escape were cut down where they stood whilst a dozen survivors were dragged back to the city to await trial.

"Jerra Sundersun, you have been found guilty by this tribunal of plotting the overthrow of the government of Fontan. Have you anything you wish to say before sentence is passed on you?" this was the last hearing of the day, and Moira had already passed sentence of death on seven of the twelve defendants.

"The Light of Fontan will triumph over your filthy stinking heathen democracy!" the woman's bestial snarl was followed by a venomous spit as she struggled to free herself from the two guardsmen holding her.

"Then by the power invested in me as a knight, you are to be taken from this court to a place of execution, there to be hung until you are dead," she consoled herself with the thought that four of the defendants had shown remorse for their acts, and even now they were waiting in the makeshift cells for transport to the mines of Evora where they would serve their varying terms of penal servitude.

"NONE CAN DENY THE LIGHT!!! ALL WHO STAND AGAINST IT SHALL BECOME AS ASH!!!" the woman continued to rave and rant as she was dragged outside to the awaiting prison cart, it's iron-barred cage already sprouting talon-like limbs and snarling maws.

"WE SHALL BE MARTYRS OF THE TRUTH!!!" cried one, whilst others began singing hymns of praise to the Celestial Gods.

"They seem happy enough with your judgement Ma'am," Carl signalled for the rest of the men to follow as they set off on foot for the chosen execution ground, the city's main vegetable market.

"Fanatics are always happy to die, it's living that they have difficulty with," Moira shook her head in bemusement. She'd stood a dozen times or more in battle and felt the icy sting of metal skewering her soft flesh, and yet death held no appeal for her. Life was all too brief in these war-torn lands, and death had claimed many of those she held dear, but she could see no sense in the grim fate these misguided souls savoured. Still, it was their choice.

When the convoy reached the appointed place there were cheers of support from the crowd for the condemned men and women. Well, what else could be expected. These poor fools had lived under the cult delusions of their self-serving theocrats for too many years to easily see the freedom and prosperity that they would now enjoy having returned to the bosom of Fontan.

Five grim tripods had been erected, and the prisoners were distributed amongst them, helped up onto waiting wooden stools, the nooses lowered over their heads and fastened around their necks. Moira took her place in front of the crowd, the fearsome axes of her men - those very same men who had cut their way through the city's finest during the final assault - forming a ragged cordon.

"People of Akesh, these men and women have been found guilty of High Treason and crimes against Fontan. They have shown no remorse for their actions, or for the many deaths which they planned, and as such this court has had no choice but to impose the full penalty that the law allows," she turned to face the gallows, "You are hereby sentenced to be hung by the neck until dead, your bodies then to be displayed in gibbets as a warning to all of the fate awaiting those who would impose tyranny on the free peoples of Fontan."

The stools were yanked away and the condemned bodies twisted gruesomely on their flaxen tethers, limbs flailing as their faces darkened and blotched. A few scattered voices half-heartedly voiced Celestial Hymns, but most who watched that sorry spectacle stood in silence and any glamour associated with martyrdom was soon lost in the smell of excrement and the staccato jerking of dying limbs.