Lurinda. I was going to play in the band,” he moaned.
“You can forget all of that for now,” Garrel said. “Maybe in a few months.”
“Months?” Grange asked in an agonized whisper.
“The other prisoners here say that criminals are being rounded up and shipped out to work at a labor camp in the mountains. The Tyrant wants to build a canal, so that his ships don’t have to pay fees at Falls City,” Garrel explained.
“I don’t even know what that means,” Grange whispered.
“Neither do I. I was hoping you could explain it to me,” Garrel sighed.
They sat in silence then, and Grange drifted off to sleep, leaning against Garrel’s shoulder.
When he awoke there were sounds in the prison ward. A jailer was delivering food to the cells, with a companion who carried a lantern, and another who carried a mace. Their bowl of food was slipped on the floor through a slot, and then the bright light moved further down the hallway past them.
“I’m hungry enough to eat it. I’m just not going to look at it,” Garrel announced as he walked over to the pan and sniffed it gingerly. He made retching noises while Grange remained on the bench, and then Garrel returned. “I’m not that hungry after all,” he explained.
“So Hockis isn’t in prison?” Grange asked.
“Not as far as I know. I only know what the patrol men told me while we were being arrested,” Garrel replied.
The next day Grange felt better. He was still sore, but he could tell the sore spots were healing. When the daily food delivery came, there were extra guards, and instead of slipping a pan through the slot in the door, the guards opened the door completely.
“Up and on your feet,” one of them said. “You’re done here.”
“Are we free?” Garrel asked as he stood and approached the door. Grange followed him.
“No, you’re on trial,” the guard said. “Now move along; we’ve got others to pick up.”
They left the room and had shackles clamped around their ankles, then began to shuffle through the dim passages of the prison. The guards stopped several times, and a dozen other prisoners were added to the chained shackles, then the procession climbed up three flights of stairs.
Grange was blinded when a pair of double doors was opened, and sunlight came streaming in as the chain gang slowly walked out of the prison into a drab, stonewalled yard. Two minutes later they entered another building, and then were taken to an austere hearing chamber, where a judge sat at a high desk, and several other guards were positioned.
“The accused will stand in the box,” the judge ordered, as the chain gang was led to a cage in front of the judge.
“By the authority vested in me by the most righteous ruler of Verdant, the Tyrant, I find you all guilty of the crimes you stand accused of,” the judge promptly said. “You all are hereby sentenced to death by hanging, at sunset today.”
The men in the cage gave voice to a variety of howls and shrieks of protest at the unexpected proceeding.
“Through the leniency of the Tyrant, I may offer you the opportunity to commute your sentence to five years of labor in service to your nation. Those of you who wish to receive this boon shall so claim mercy,” the judge immediately instructed.
“I claim mercy,” Garrel instantly shouted, as did a half dozen others, while Grange stood in silent shock.
“Having heard all of you request the mercy of the Tyrant, I grant you all the remainder of your lives.
“The prisoners will be attired,” the judge ordered.
A guard unlocked the cage, less than a minute after it had been closed and locked.
“Approach me one at a time, and move slowly,” the guard ordered.
The prisoners approached him in the order that the chains allowed. As they did, each was unlocked from the chains, and escorted by a guard to the back of the room, where they were ordered to disrobe, then handed a bright yellow shirt and pair
“You can forget all of that for now,” Garrel said. “Maybe in a few months.”
“Months?” Grange asked in an agonized whisper.
“The other prisoners here say that criminals are being rounded up and shipped out to work at a labor camp in the mountains. The Tyrant wants to build a canal, so that his ships don’t have to pay fees at Falls City,” Garrel explained.
“I don’t even know what that means,” Grange whispered.
“Neither do I. I was hoping you could explain it to me,” Garrel sighed.
They sat in silence then, and Grange drifted off to sleep, leaning against Garrel’s shoulder.
When he awoke there were sounds in the prison ward. A jailer was delivering food to the cells, with a companion who carried a lantern, and another who carried a mace. Their bowl of food was slipped on the floor through a slot, and then the bright light moved further down the hallway past them.
“I’m hungry enough to eat it. I’m just not going to look at it,” Garrel announced as he walked over to the pan and sniffed it gingerly. He made retching noises while Grange remained on the bench, and then Garrel returned. “I’m not that hungry after all,” he explained.
“So Hockis isn’t in prison?” Grange asked.
“Not as far as I know. I only know what the patrol men told me while we were being arrested,” Garrel replied.
The next day Grange felt better. He was still sore, but he could tell the sore spots were healing. When the daily food delivery came, there were extra guards, and instead of slipping a pan through the slot in the door, the guards opened the door completely.
“Up and on your feet,” one of them said. “You’re done here.”
“Are we free?” Garrel asked as he stood and approached the door. Grange followed him.
“No, you’re on trial,” the guard said. “Now move along; we’ve got others to pick up.”
They left the room and had shackles clamped around their ankles, then began to shuffle through the dim passages of the prison. The guards stopped several times, and a dozen other prisoners were added to the chained shackles, then the procession climbed up three flights of stairs.
Grange was blinded when a pair of double doors was opened, and sunlight came streaming in as the chain gang slowly walked out of the prison into a drab, stonewalled yard. Two minutes later they entered another building, and then were taken to an austere hearing chamber, where a judge sat at a high desk, and several other guards were positioned.
“The accused will stand in the box,” the judge ordered, as the chain gang was led to a cage in front of the judge.
“By the authority vested in me by the most righteous ruler of Verdant, the Tyrant, I find you all guilty of the crimes you stand accused of,” the judge promptly said. “You all are hereby sentenced to death by hanging, at sunset today.”
The men in the cage gave voice to a variety of howls and shrieks of protest at the unexpected proceeding.
“Through the leniency of the Tyrant, I may offer you the opportunity to commute your sentence to five years of labor in service to your nation. Those of you who wish to receive this boon shall so claim mercy,” the judge immediately instructed.
“I claim mercy,” Garrel instantly shouted, as did a half dozen others, while Grange stood in silent shock.
“Having heard all of you request the mercy of the Tyrant, I grant you all the remainder of your lives.
“The prisoners will be attired,” the judge ordered.
A guard unlocked the cage, less than a minute after it had been closed and locked.
“Approach me one at a time, and move slowly,” the guard ordered.
The prisoners approached him in the order that the chains allowed. As they did, each was unlocked from the chains, and escorted by a guard to the back of the room, where they were ordered to disrobe, then handed a bright yellow shirt and pair
Similar Books
