J
Juan1234
Guest
Great image - thanks!This is the image that came to mind to me as you described Aurelia’s crucifixion. But, perhaps not quite as shapely as this victim here:
Great image - thanks!This is the image that came to mind to me as you described Aurelia’s crucifixion. But, perhaps not quite as shapely as this victim here:
Wonderful imageThis is the image that came to mind to me as you described Aurelia’s crucifixion. But, perhaps not quite as shapely as this victim here:
Juan, this is one of the most splendidly wriiten stories I've read - and I've read a few! I'm absolutely captivated. Well done, my friend!Julia's executioners were laughing, and Talbus finally turned to see what was happening. Her right wrist had been nailed through, but on the left the cross had splintered and broken off beneath her when they had tried to drive the spike through. Aparently the old beam had taken too much Mediterranean sun and had one nail-hole too many. Talbus had seen this happen a few times, but usually the old beams could be identified and replaced before they got to this point. Now the soldiers were working to pry the nail from Julia's right wrist and calling for someone to fetch a new beam from the barracks.
Talbus had always maintained a degree of detatchment from the suffering he witnessed each day. He mostly felt pity, and he kept his pity within bounds. He had never felt the kind of anger burning in his temples that he felt now. He looked at the tender desperation of Julia's young form as the soldiers tugged and pried, then back at the grotesque figure of plum-faced Aurelia hanging in her own excrement, folds of skin drooping over and under her ridiculous costume, as if she were melting. He wanted to bring her back to life and torture her properly. He wanted to strip off her strophium and show the world her sagging, flat breasts. He wanted to plaster her filthy loincloth to her haughty face.
He shocked himself. He had never felt such ill will toward any criminal before. He had seen many men and women of despicable character meet their ends on his crosses, and even if he thought some of them deserved their punishment, he had always found at least a little pity in his heart for them. Why was now suddenly different?
Maybe it was because he spent a few days with each criminal before they died, so he got to know them and empathize with them, whereas Aurelia was dead almost as soon as she was raised on her cross. But the anger had come on him even before she had strangeld.
Then it hit him. This had nothing to do with Aurelia or her crimes or her privilege. It had to do with Julia. No - not Julia - he hadn't even spoken with Julia yet. He didn't know her. It was about Anna. When he saw Julia, he saw Anna. Aurelia was nothing but contrast.
(To be continued...)
Wow. I always hate it when people say they’re “humbled” when others praise them. But I think that’s the best I can come up with! I’m humbled, Wragg! There’s no telling when something you write will hit a nerve with your audience, I guess...Juan, this is one of the most splendidly wriiten stories I've read - and I've read a few! I'm absolutely captivated. Well done, my friend!
That’s great, Wragg!! Thanks!!
Nice manip, Wragg.
"Talbus..." Phillip was hoarse and didn't turn his head, seemingly frozen in eternal agony, balancing his buttocks on his shallow sedile, but Talbus' ear was trained to hear the pleas of the dying. "Some water?"
Talbus was glad to have something to put his hand to; his thoughts were more than he wanted to deal with. "Of course old boy," and he raised a sponge to the man's sun-parched lips and listened as the raspy throat swallowed. Water also ran off his chin and down his sun-baked chest. "More?" Talbus offered. Phillip stared at nothing for a moment, as if he'd lost consciousness, then slurred his response with great effort: "A little more?" Again Talbus watched him suck on the sponge like a baby at his mother's breast.
"Almost over, Phillip," he patted the man's knee amicably. "Tonight will be cool, I think. You'll probably go before morning." Phillip just nodded. "You know, if you want to be sure of it, you could try coming off the sedile. But that's up to you, of course." Phillip nodded again.
Having finished with Phillip, and having no other immediate duties, Talbus wandered toward young Julia, who sat against the upright stake that would be hers, hugging her knees to her chest. Seeing Talbus approaching her, the other soldiers asked him to guard her while they went into the city to find out what was going on with the new beam.
Talbus picked up her discarded shift and held it out to her as he approached. He greeted her with an avuncular "hello..." but she only looked up at him with a weary, resigned terror in her blue eyes. Anna's eyes had been green, he remembered. "You can wear this until they get back," he offered, and she seemed to understand he wasn't there to torment her, though her face remained hardened - more hardened than seemed natural for so delicate a creature. She stood, took the torn garment, and tied it about her hips as best she could. Several attempts yielded no way for her to fasten it about her upper body, so she just hugged its tatters to herself.
"Your father became a sort of friend to me," Talbus continued, and she looked up at him, more interested than before. "I think it's brave that you tried to avenge him." Then, as she looked away, to his surprise, a single tear rolled down her hardened face, and he felt the need to swallow hard himself.
"He was a good man," she said quietly, staring away, wiping away the tear and shedding no more.
(To be continued...)
Her humiliation and anticipation factor is enjoyable"Talbus..." Phillip was hoarse and didn't turn his head, seemingly frozen in eternal agony, balancing his buttocks on his shallow sedile, but Talbus' ear was trained to hear the pleas of the dying. "Some water?"
Talbus was glad to have something to put his hand to; his thoughts were more than he wanted to deal with. "Of course old boy," and he raised a sponge to the man's sun-parched lips and listened as the raspy throat swallowed. Water also ran off his chin and down his sun-baked chest. "More?" Talbus offered. Phillip stared at nothing for a moment, as if he'd lost consciousness, then slurred his response with great effort: "A little more?" Again Talbus watched him suck on the sponge like a baby at his mother's breast.
"Almost over, Phillip," he patted the man's knee amicably. "Tonight will be cool, I think. You'll probably go before morning." Phillip just nodded. "You know, if you want to be sure of it, you could try coming off the sedile. But that's up to you, of course." Phillip nodded again.
Having finished with Phillip, and having no other immediate duties, Talbus wandered toward young Julia, who sat against the upright stake that would be hers, hugging her knees to her chest. Seeing Talbus approaching her, the other soldiers asked him to guard her while they went into the city to find out what was going on with the new beam.
Talbus picked up her discarded shift and held it out to her as he approached. He greeted her with an avuncular "hello..." but she only looked up at him with a weary, resigned terror in her blue eyes. Anna's eyes had been green, he remembered. "You can wear this until they get back," he offered, and she seemed to understand he wasn't there to torment her, though her face remained hardened - more hardened than seemed natural for so delicate a creature. She stood, took the torn garment, and tied it about her hips as best she could. Several attempts yielded no way for her to fasten it about her upper body, so she just hugged its tatters to herself.
"Your father became a sort of friend to me," Talbus continued, and she looked up at him, more interested than before. "I think it's brave that you tried to avenge him." Then, as she looked away, to his surprise, a single tear rolled down her hardened face, and he felt the need to swallow hard himself.
"He was a good man," she said quietly, staring away, wiping away the tear and shedding no more.
(To be continued...)
This is the image that came to mind to me as you described Aurelia’s crucifixion. But, perhaps not quite as shapely as this victim here:
Huh - I’ll have to check that story out to see what you mean. Thanks!And a lot more naked.
Juan, a popular crux theme, by which I mean "my personal favorite," involves an innocent in the power of the wicked, literally naked before her enemies. When it first came out "An Execution in Arelate"
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/attachments/an-execution-in-arelate-doc.5652/
inverted that trope; Livia Cuxena needed crucifying. In Talbus the Guard you’ve quite skillfully intertwined the the two tropes. And as a writer you’re goddam good.
Do carry on.