Friday, January 29, 2010

A Cold Soldier cont.

His men throw the lunatic king down on the ground. As he gets to his knees the guards tear the robe from his decimated back and as they do dried blood and clots are ripped off and more life pours out of him. The soldier thinks that the king's back looks like meat hanging in the market. He knows this king won't last long and in few hours his wretched excuse for a life will be over. The king is kicked over onto his back and his arms outstretched. The first hand is placed stretched out on the executioners tool, with one blow a spike is driven through the socket in his wrist. A few seconds later the second spike is driven home. They drag the king over to the post that is lying on the ground, right next to the socket that the upright will get dropped in to. The top of the post has been chiseled to a tenon and the mortise of the cross member fits on top. Another spike is driven through the king's feet. It takes three of the soldiers to bring the cross into the upright position and drop it into the hole. The soldier notices that the stones that make the hole have been rubbed so many times by the upright they have a bright polish to them.

Many times men on the very edge of the death cliff begin pleading to some god to save them, making promises they can never keep. Usually men who are being crucified moan and beg or they curse and damn their executioners or god. This king hasn't done any of those. Up to this point the king has not uttered an understandable word. Oh, he has cried out in pain, when the upright was dropped into the hole. The soldier wondered if the king was even able to talk. His lips were swollen from the beatings and his face is covered with blood and dirt. The crown on his head caused fresh bleeding every time the king was thrown around. Again, the soldier thinks, you got to give us Romans credit. We really know how to kill a man. We can kill'em fast or slow. It really doesn't matter, they all end up wretched broken corpses.

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