Which makes it easy for Nuhavians to wait it out while they turn on each other and deliciously finish themselves off.
It truly is a new day in the twin cities of the mountain. We’ll go in and regulate Olhav soon enough, I know, once my men are healed.
Before we go through that arduous process, however, I have one more idea to present to my Nuhavian brothers and sisters that should give them reason to celebrate . . .
Chapter 59
Sephania
It’s the day of Father Cullard’s execution. Sorry,ArchpriestCullard.
He can style himself however he wishes—the voice of the True on this mortal plane; the herald of war against the Damned; the authority on faith in Nuhav.
I’ll always remember him as the piece of shit who raised me as a child pickpocket and ruined the lives of so many of his flock before and after me—with people like Sister Cyprilis coming to mind—starting all the way from his humble beginnings as an abbot at the House of the True.
The last name on my list.
For a despicable man like Cullard, so filled with sin it’s present in every finger and toe he still possesses, an easy death is too simple. He was given a public trial after the truths of his betrayals to his people came to light, and he was summarily charged to die a slow and agonizing demise.
The Nuhavians have been a people living in fear and bloodshed for decades, and now they want a vessel to exact their revenge and get out all their aggression and frustrations. Father Cullard is the perfect vessel for this cause. The perfect scapegoat for the people to watch suffer, before drinking over his grave and making merriment on his corpse.
Then it’s back to work.
The execution takes place in the central town square close to the Temple of the True, a little bit of irony for the man. Anaudience of thousands swell the streets, pushed into every nook and cranny, peeking out from alleys and storefronts, hanging out from windows and rafters, sitting on rooftops because there isn’t enough room for everyone on the ground.
The crowd cheers and yells and jeers as Cullard is dragged through the crowd by Captain Rirth and his Silverknights—men who see Cullard’s death as a path to redemption to their own cause. Rotten fruit and rocks are thrown at the bedraggled priest, who is dressed in the same dingy robe he once wore as an abbot.
I recognize faces in the audience. Grown men and women who were once part of his flock, molested and hurt and taught cruelty and thievery before being tossed aside when they were no longer useful.
It’s a somber moment for me . . . but utterly satisfying to watch Cullard get his just desserts as he’s lead through the procession. And I know he will get no last-minute reprieve from a gallant rescuer like Vanison did with Indokkus.
I’m standing against the railing of a second-story balcony, in a packed two-story tavern. My mother stands next to me, watching the goings-on with more dismay than me.
“This is quite a grisly affair, dear daughter,” she murmurs, eyes peeled across the wide town square before us.
We have to speak loudly to hear each other, even so close together, because of all the yelling and hollering.
“And you orchestrated”—she gestures vaguely at nothing—“all this?”
“The people did. I am simply the channel they use to voice their opinions, Mother.”
Rirth begins speaking from the raised stage at the front of the square, reading off the many atrocities of the doomed man. It’s too loud and he’s too far for me to hear anything, but this is more about the spectacle than anything else.
The people certainly deserve aspectacle, and so does Father Cullard.
“You know,” Jinneth muses, tapping the railing in front of us, “your father was hung.”
I blink at her, turning my head, raising my brow.
“Hanged?” She shrugs. “Well, both.”
I choke out a laugh. She smiles demurely.
“And now you have the Iron Sister at your side,” I say.
Her face brightens as she stares forward, off into the distance, remembering memories I’ll never understand, surely. “Yes, I do.” She puffs out her cheeks. “And let me tell you, Keffa is something else. A different breed.”
“I’ve seen how she fights, that wild old biddy. Tried to protect you when that winged bastard came to steal you away, didn’t she?”