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For the Love of Alicia

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if it were an airline you could spring for premium seats with more leg room ... but alas ...
I'll lend you the NYPD SWAT team if you buy them all a beer at the tavern after they save your sorry ass.

We keep on looking to the sky... is that a bird? Is it a dragon? NO! It's Barb and Siss in a bright yellow Mustang! :)
 
“I killed quite a few of these scumbags yesterday trying to rescue Alicia from being crucified!”
Shame to let all that effort go to waste, really. :eek::eek::eek::(

We went through the gate and reached our final destination. Both sides of the road were lined with crosses, most were empty, but some bore long dead corpses. A scene from hell. I fought down the urge to vomit.

Two stipes, on opposite sides of the road, were laying on the ground, each waiting for its patibulum, and for its victim.
How many Romans are there guarding you now? They can't have brought the whole 1000 that attacked the village. What about your drinking mates? I mean, I have a village of people, including women and children to think of... :doh::doh::doh::oops::mad:

Fuck it… was there no way out of this?
Well said. :confused::confused::confused::doh:

Uh oh! Here we go ... not looking good. At least you’ll be across from one another (no pun intended) ... if it were an airline you could spring for premium seats with more leg room ... but alas ...
The voice of experience? Any last minute advice to our protagonists? :D

Have you ever actually been crucified here yet, Wragg? I mean, I know you're going with this Scaevola chap, but crucifying yourself (in essence) is novel. I'm sure we had a discussion at one point on whether it was possible, and here you go and just do it.:popcorn::clapping: Turns out all you need is a legion of literary Romans and a tendency to throw caution (and your kit) to the wind when a pretty girl comes into view.:doh::devil:
 
Any last minute advice to our protagonists? :D
If you find yourself condemned to be crucified, make sure you have Barb's number by you. She can give you tips to help you through, and if you're really lucky, she'll be up on a cross opposite!

In answer to your question, Jollyrei, Barb once spent a night crucified with Erin and an unidentified man.

In the morning, she asked the immortal question, "I've spent the night naked with you and I don't even know your name!"

His name turned out to be General Wragg.
 
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We stood, still holding our crosses, while Marcellinus read the charge. “The woman naked before you is Alicia, a rebellious Jewish whore who would not submit to the will of her master, and murdered him. She used her evil wiles to tempt this man, Scaevola, into murderous rebellion. They will both now pay for their crimes on their crosses. Look, and learn from their foolish ways. Rome is not to be resisted.”

I groaned. So it was all Alicia’s fault, was it? And what was this ‘Rebellious Jewish whore’ rubbish? I read her sign, which I hadn’t looked at up to now, as she’s be ahead of me, and, sure enough, it just said ‘Rebel Jewess’. I hadn’t even realised she was Jewish. What did her religion have to do with anything, anyway? I guess they probably blamed Jews for anything that went awry.

They took the beams from our shoulders, and we watched as they assembled the crosses on the ground. I couldn’t get to her, my guards had me in a vice-like grip, but I looked at her, and mouthed the words ‘love you.’ Her lips moved, ‘love you too.’ I saw that she was shaking with fear, but I wasn’t feeling immensely courageous, myself.

I wondered which of us was to be first. I soon found out. Me.

It made sense. I was the one most likely to give trouble, and they wanted me immobilised as soon as possible. I wasn’t going to go quietly, and I fought them every step of the way, cursing them for the Roman turds that they were. But there were too many of them, and they fought me down onto that godawful cross, and tied me down. This was it. After everything I’d done, all I’d been through, I was going to be crucified like a slave.

You don’t spend years as a gladiator without picking up a few injuries, but nothing, and I mean nothing, can prepare you for having a thick steel spike smashed through your wrist. I could barely comprehend the pain, I was still fighting, trying desperately to get away from the sheer unbelievable agony of it. I was conscious of Alicia screaming, of Manius and Tullius yelling at me, but everything was a jumble of soldiers swearing, of a hammer rising and falling, and of incredible agony increasing with each strike of the hammer.

And then, once my wrists were securely fixed to the cross, they were at my feet, and it got even worse. The whole cross was shaking, each of my existing wounds shrieking in protest as new wounds were added, as the bones of my feet were forced apart, ripping the tendons and sinews that held them together. There are not words to describe the sheer brutal inhuman torture of crucifixion.

Four nails, and then a fifth to secure the sign above my head. For a moment I lay there, gasping.

Then they began to stand it up. But I’m quite heavy, and maybe they hadn’t got hold of it properly, but in any case it slipped and whumped back down to the ground, throwing me about like a rag doll. I howled in protest, Marcellinus bellowed in fury, and they tried again.

This time they managed it, and my cross lurched upright. I was already screaming in agony from my weight on the nails when it slid down into its socket, crashing against the bottom as my own inertia was arrested by those savage, unforgiving nails. My yell of tormented fury echoed back at me from the city walls. Then it shuddered and danced as they drove wedges in to keep it upright.

Finally, it was done. I hung there, naked and bleeding, panting and whimpering at the sheer shock of the violence done to me.

Then it hit me. They were about to commit the same atrocity against Alicia. And I was powerless to do anything but watch.

To be continued
 
I wondered which of us was to be first. I soon found out. Me.

It made sense. I was the one most likely to give trouble,

Have you noticed where being likely to give trouble has gotten me in the past? Now you are in for it. :rolleyes:

Then it hit me. They were about to commit the same atrocity against Alicia. And I was powerless to do anything but watch.

Well yeah! This guy picks up on things rather slowly. :confused:

Nice chapter, Wragg ... love it!
 
The Leuni were in Portugal,
They were a Celtic Tribe in what is now Germany, not far from Munich, associated with the River Isar.
See: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Celtic_tribes

However, I have been deliberately non-specific about location or even time, although the anti-Semitism would suggest some time after the judean revolt.

At least as long as there's some hope for rescue...

Well? What have you done with that SWAT team????
 
We stood, still holding our crosses, while Marcellinus read the charge. “The woman naked before you is Alicia, a rebellious Jewish whore who would not submit to the will of her master, and murdered him. She used her evil wiles to tempt this man, Scaevola, into murderous rebellion. They will both now pay for their crimes on their crosses. Look, and learn from their foolish ways. Rome is not to be resisted.”

I groaned. So it was all Alicia’s fault, was it? And what was this ‘Rebellious Jewish whore’ rubbish? I read her sign, which I hadn’t looked at up to now, as she’s be ahead of me, and, sure enough, it just said ‘Rebel Jewess’. I hadn’t even realised she was Jewish. What did her religion have to do with anything, anyway? I guess they probably blamed Jews for anything that went awry.

They took the beams from our shoulders, and we watched as they assembled the crosses on the ground. I couldn’t get to her, my guards had me in a vice-like grip, but I looked at her, and mouthed the words ‘love you.’ Her lips moved, ‘love you too.’ I saw that she was shaking with fear, but I wasn’t feeling immensely courageous, myself.

I wondered which of us was to be first. I soon found out. Me.

It made sense. I was the one most likely to give trouble, and they wanted me immobilised as soon as possible. I wasn’t going to go quietly, and I fought them every step of the way, cursing them for the Roman turds that they were. But there were too many of them, and they fought me down onto that godawful cross, and tied me down. This was it. After everything I’d done, all I’d been through, I was going to be crucified like a slave.

You don’t spend years as a gladiator without picking up a few injuries, but nothing, and I mean nothing, can prepare you for having a thick steel spike smashed through your wrist. I could barely comprehend the pain, I was still fighting, trying desperately to get away from the sheer unbelievable agony of it. I was conscious of Alicia screaming, of Manius and Tullius yelling at me, but everything was a jumble of soldiers swearing, of a hammer rising and falling, and of incredible agony increasing with each strike of the hammer.

And then, once my wrists were securely fixed to the cross, they were at my feet, and it got even worse. The whole cross was shaking, each of my existing wounds shrieking in protest as new wounds were added, as the bones of my feet were forced apart, ripping the tendons and sinews that held them together. There are not words to describe the sheer brutal inhuman torture of crucifixion.

Four nails, and then a fifth to secure the sign above my head. For a moment I lay there, gasping.

Then they began to stand it up. But I’m quite heavy, and maybe they hadn’t got hold of it properly, but in any case it slipped and whumped back down to the ground, throwing me about like a rag doll. I howled in protest, Marcellinus bellowed in fury, and they tried again.

This time they managed it, and my cross lurched upright. I was already screaming in agony from my weight on the nails when it slid down into its socket, crashing against the bottom as my own inertia was arrested by those savage, unforgiving nails. My yell of tormented fury echoed back at me from the city walls. Then it shuddered and danced as they drove wedges in to keep it upright.

Finally, it was done. I hung there, naked and bleeding, panting and whimpering at the sheer shock of the violence done to me.

Then it hit me. They were about to commit the same atrocity against Alicia. And I was powerless to do anything but watch.

To be continued
Another great episode! So they finaly managed to nail you to the cross......well, as mentioned before, you will at least have a great view while dying! A very romantic execution! (Old pic showing Alicia on her cross......will the view affect your organ???...:) )

alicia.jpg
 
This article says they were a Celtic tribe in what is now Portugal. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leuni and your article lists them as well. I guess there were two tribes with the same name. They should have co-ordinated better:confused:

I suspect the German location is based on a very dated (1854!) reference work.
But not wanting to make a seminar of this splendid story, I've given details on your PM thread -
Wragg's in that discussion, anyone who isn't and would like to join would I'm sure be welcome!
 
Finally, it was done. I hung there, naked and bleeding, panting and whimpering at the sheer shock of the violence done to me.

Then it hit me. They were about to commit the same atrocity against Alicia. And I was powerless to do anything but watch.
:cursing2::cursing2::cursing2:
It looks pretty bad. :(
Fantastic chapter, Wragg. Can't help feel I've rather let you down.
 
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