The guards bound us hand and foot once more and left us to our anguish for the night. The pain of my bruised body kept me awake all night, and I lay on my side in the dust-too sore to move, but too aching to lie still-thinking that death would be a mercy, and one we would certainly be denied.
I thought, too, that the punishment we were enduring was far in excess of any crime we might have committed. We had laid hand to a guard, I do not deny it, but that we should be subjected to such savage punishment, was an absurdity I could not understand. It made no sense to me, but then, I reflected, very little of what happened in this world made any sense at all. To believe it did…that was absurd.
At dawn the next morning, we were roused by the blowing of a horn-a trumpet, I think. From somewhere on the hillside came the dull bell-like tolling of someone beating a length of iron. In a little while the whole of the mining settlement was astir. People came from their houses to assemble on one side of the dusty square outside the chief overseer's dwelling. I heard someone moan beside me, and turned my head to see Gunnar awaken and take in the gathering throng.
"It seems we are to have witnesses to our torture today," I remarked.
"It is not our torture that brings them," replied Gunnar. "They have come to see us die."
He was right, of course. In a little while the other slaves began arriving, taking their places opposite the settlement dwellers on the other side of the square, where they stood in ranks behind the guards who had brought them. I looked for Cadoc and the other monks, and for Harald and the Sea Wolves, but I could see none of them in among the crowds.
When everyone had taken their places, the chief overseer appeared, accompanied by the pig-eyed underling who had directed the previous day's torture. This fellow walked about with upraised hands until everyone became silent; then he deferred to the chief overseer, who stepped forth to speak out a short address. At its conclusion, the master of the mine clapped his hands. Out from the throng of onlookers stepped three men. Two of them carried a wooden block, and the third a curved sword twice the size of an ordinary weapon. This great sword's blade was burnished so that it gleamed in the morning light.
"At least we will not have to suffer another day of beatings," Gunnar observed. "I do not think I could tolerate that."
He made it sound as if he had come to the end of his good temper. In truth, he had come to the end of his life. We were not to be given a quick, painless death, however. No sooner had the block been set up nearby, than two horses were led out into the square. I could not understand what it meant, but Gunnar knew.
"I have heard of this," he said, and explained that the victim was tied to the two horses, which were then driven in opposite directions, thereby stretching the condemned man's body between them. When the bones of the back separated sufficiently, the sword was used to hack the poor wretch in half. "The unlucky one sometimes does not die all at once," he added.
Dugal had not stirred, and I made to wake him, but thought better of it and let him sleep on. Let him enjoy the little peace he has left, I thought; at least he will enter glory well rested.
As it happened, his rest ended almost at once. For as soon as the horses were brought to stand either side of the block, four guards came to where we lay and laid hands to Dugal, jerking him awake violently. He gasped in pain at his rough handling, and his head fell limply forward.
I decided then what to do. Drawing together what little strength I possessed, I pushed myself up onto my knees. Black waves of pain broke over me as I raised my head. Placing one foot flat on the ground, I gritted my teeth and stood, tottering and wavering like an infant. The agony of that simple act brought tears to my eyes; I heard a roaring boom in my head, and somehow lurched forward a pace.
"Take me!" I said, my voice a raw rasp.
The guards turned to stare at me; one of them said something I did not understand, and the others returned to their task and dragged Dugal away.
"Leave him alone!" I shouted, almost collapsing with the effort. "Take me instead."
Another shout met my own. From across the yard the chief overseer called to the guards and pointed at me with his staff. The four guards dropped Dugal at once and started for me instead. I turned to Gunnar. "Farewell, Gunnar Warhammer," I whispered with the last of my strength. "I am glad I knew you."
"Say not farewell, Aeddan," he said, struggling to his knees. "Wait for me in the otherworld. We will go to your God together."
I nodded, looking my last upon my battered friends. Then the guards seized my arms and hauled me to the block. We passed the place where Dugal lay. I saw that he had lost consciousness again. "Farewell, brother," I said, though I knew he was past hearing. "You were ever a true friend to me, Dugal."
