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Gabriella In Kytherramne
- Thread starter andy01
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shastar
Tribune
'The crucifier Basic Toolkit! Now available at your nearest Brico center!' Don't miss the opportunity!'
andy01
Magistrate
"Here they come, the happy crowd," Herennius said. As the steward filled his cup, he suddenly said "Do you know anything about Thapsus Regulus?"
"I hope that your initial concerns may be overstated sir. I am confident we will be able to arrange accommodation to your satisfaction. The town is about the same size as Kytherramne, with a temperate climate and excellent game for hunting with falcons or from the local chariots. The wine unfortunately does not travel well but has an excellent reputation, and they produce a variety of cannabis sativa, light brown and friable, that is highly regarded. As for the prevelance of the insects of the order Diptera, or two-winged, sir, I fear you have been given an exaggerated impression. The co-adjutator Agrippa has recently supervised aqueducts to bring clean water from the nearby hills and the sanitary arrangements are said to be excellent. There is a fish restaurant near the harbour that is thought one of the finest in Africa, a competent ampitheatre and two theatres that offer … comedies thought by some to be somewhat over colourful."
A pair of sedan chairs had broken away from the crowd, hurried on by their occupants.
"Mira, Quintus, come on up and join us. You'll get a great view from here," invited Rufius.
"I say Henny," Quintus grinned as he stepped up onto the litter. "Don't you feed your house slaves? That skivvy is the scrawniest thing I've ever seen. Not at all what you'd expect from a kitchen girl."
"Doesn't look like a house slave to me," said Mira. "Skin dark as a peasant on her arms and from the knees down. Probably smells like one too." She looked down at Henny's steward where he stood holding the wine jar. "Wherever did we get her from Regulus?"
"We brought her down from the Hill Farm two weeks ago Madam. She was working as a goatherd." The steward's nose narrowed almost imperceptibly at the word. "As her work there had become redundant, the bailiff sent her to us to do some of the rough work in the kitchens."
"Didn't last long, did she? Anyway, her and the cook are on their way right now."
"And Gabby of course." Herennius was literally rubbing his hands.
"Last I saw of Gabby they were throwing buckets of water over her. Oh they'd really worked her over properly, and you know …" Mira slipped her arm through Henny's, "… she didn't seem the least bit grateful. Crawling on the floor and blubbing like a baby."
"What? They're not letting the little bitch off are they?"
"Ohh-hhh no, but they'll need to wake her up a bit before they bring her along. It's just our two coming now. Gabby'll be along later don't worry."
"And the skinny one's making enough noise for two," Quintus added. Then in a keening falsetto: "No don't do this! I'm a good girl! I didn't know anything!"
"Well if she didn't," Rufius replied, "then she's getting crucified for stupidity and serve her right."
"She might not have known what they were though," Quintus said thoughtfully.
"If I might observe sir," Regulus interjected (if that's the word I'm looking for). "The plant Inocybe erubescens grows profusely around the Hill Farm area, particularly around the meadows where she was watching the herd. While I have not noticed any particular powers of intellect in the girl, it would seem most unlikely that she was not familiar with the appearance and properties of the fungus in question."
"You think she's guilty then," Herennius asked, once he'd taken a moment to work the sentence out
"It's hardly for me to say sir. But under the circumstances I would have the gravest misgivings if she were employed in any culinary capacity."
"Safer to nail her up then? And she's not worth much is she?"
"Very low grade I'm afraid sir. A satisfactory replacement could be obtained locally for seventy-five sestercii."
"Besides, like Rufy said, they'll make a lovely contrast, her and fat … Ginny is it?"
"Indeed sir."
Rufius was gazing at Regulus with an expression somewhere between awe and irritation. "Mushrooms, prices, water supplies, theatres … Do you know everything Regulus?" he exclaimed.
"I could not possibly say sir."
"I hope that your initial concerns may be overstated sir. I am confident we will be able to arrange accommodation to your satisfaction. The town is about the same size as Kytherramne, with a temperate climate and excellent game for hunting with falcons or from the local chariots. The wine unfortunately does not travel well but has an excellent reputation, and they produce a variety of cannabis sativa, light brown and friable, that is highly regarded. As for the prevelance of the insects of the order Diptera, or two-winged, sir, I fear you have been given an exaggerated impression. The co-adjutator Agrippa has recently supervised aqueducts to bring clean water from the nearby hills and the sanitary arrangements are said to be excellent. There is a fish restaurant near the harbour that is thought one of the finest in Africa, a competent ampitheatre and two theatres that offer … comedies thought by some to be somewhat over colourful."
A pair of sedan chairs had broken away from the crowd, hurried on by their occupants.
"Mira, Quintus, come on up and join us. You'll get a great view from here," invited Rufius.
"I say Henny," Quintus grinned as he stepped up onto the litter. "Don't you feed your house slaves? That skivvy is the scrawniest thing I've ever seen. Not at all what you'd expect from a kitchen girl."
"Doesn't look like a house slave to me," said Mira. "Skin dark as a peasant on her arms and from the knees down. Probably smells like one too." She looked down at Henny's steward where he stood holding the wine jar. "Wherever did we get her from Regulus?"
"We brought her down from the Hill Farm two weeks ago Madam. She was working as a goatherd." The steward's nose narrowed almost imperceptibly at the word. "As her work there had become redundant, the bailiff sent her to us to do some of the rough work in the kitchens."
"Didn't last long, did she? Anyway, her and the cook are on their way right now."
"And Gabby of course." Herennius was literally rubbing his hands.
"Last I saw of Gabby they were throwing buckets of water over her. Oh they'd really worked her over properly, and you know …" Mira slipped her arm through Henny's, "… she didn't seem the least bit grateful. Crawling on the floor and blubbing like a baby."
"What? They're not letting the little bitch off are they?"
"Ohh-hhh no, but they'll need to wake her up a bit before they bring her along. It's just our two coming now. Gabby'll be along later don't worry."
"And the skinny one's making enough noise for two," Quintus added. Then in a keening falsetto: "No don't do this! I'm a good girl! I didn't know anything!"
"Well if she didn't," Rufius replied, "then she's getting crucified for stupidity and serve her right."
"She might not have known what they were though," Quintus said thoughtfully.
"If I might observe sir," Regulus interjected (if that's the word I'm looking for). "The plant Inocybe erubescens grows profusely around the Hill Farm area, particularly around the meadows where she was watching the herd. While I have not noticed any particular powers of intellect in the girl, it would seem most unlikely that she was not familiar with the appearance and properties of the fungus in question."
"You think she's guilty then," Herennius asked, once he'd taken a moment to work the sentence out
"It's hardly for me to say sir. But under the circumstances I would have the gravest misgivings if she were employed in any culinary capacity."
"Safer to nail her up then? And she's not worth much is she?"
"Very low grade I'm afraid sir. A satisfactory replacement could be obtained locally for seventy-five sestercii."
"Besides, like Rufy said, they'll make a lovely contrast, her and fat … Ginny is it?"
"Indeed sir."
Rufius was gazing at Regulus with an expression somewhere between awe and irritation. "Mushrooms, prices, water supplies, theatres … Do you know everything Regulus?" he exclaimed.
"I could not possibly say sir."
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D
Deleted member jedakk
Guest
Wow, Regulus is a real fount of knowledge, isn't he? That's an interesting way to have all of that background about Thrapsus made known, and in dialogue too. He's like an ancient Roman version of Jeeves. And he managed to cast some serious doubt as to whether that skinny kitchen wench was entirely blameless. Good thing she's a throwaway and not worth the time to investigate, hell, nail her to a cross and let her scream and struggle in agony for a few days, then let the crows clean up after. 
Wow, Regulus is a real fount of knowledge, isn't he? That's an interesting way to have all of that background about Thrapsus made known, and in dialogue too. He's like an ancient Roman version of Jeeves. And he managed to cast some serious doubt as to whether that skinny kitchen wench was entirely blameless. Good thing she's a throwaway and not worth the time to investigate, hell, nail her to a cross and let her scream and struggle in agony for a few days, then let the crows clean up after.
I thought the same, Jedakk!
It's just that Regulus doesn't have an idiot under his feet
It seems that the idiots in those days ended as crow food on a cross
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
I wonder how many more of us instantly thought "Jeeves".
My impression was that the whole town was populated by idiots, it's only the Regulus's of this world that keep it going.
My impression was that the whole town was populated by idiots, it's only the Regulus's of this world that keep it going.
Frank Petrexa
Tribune
As someone once said of the later empire: "The Barbarians ran the army, and the Greeks ran the administration". This is a little early for that, but maybe the seeds have already sprouted in the younger generation.I thought the same, Jedakk!
It's just that Regulus doesn't have an idiot under his feet
It seems that the idiots in those days ended as crow food on a cross
andy01
Magistrate
As the crowd approached the killing hollow it began to separate out. A dozen or so of Herennius' set clustered round the litter, some with hungover faces that belied their brightly coloured tunics and robes. The rest of the mob flowed out along the edge of the hollow, jostling for places, but none came too near the litter. This was not out of respect for their social betters; grim experience had taught them to stay clear of the bright young things.
Cealia Paulina flopped down on Mira's sedan chair, massaging her temples.
"Gods the noise that girl's making … like a cat being skinned, cacat it drills right through you … Give me some of that wine Regulus, I really need it."
"If I might suggest Miss, you might try this. It is a restorative of my own devising that has often proved efficacious." He held out a small silver cup.
"Whatever," Cealia moaned as she took and drained it. She gasped, her mouth opening and closing like a fish then screwed her face up, hands waggling in the air. After some moments she fell back against the chair back and drew in several deep breaths. Her face cleared, her hands went exploringly to her temples, and a look of delight came over her face.
"Wow Regulus, that's … that's witchcraft."
"Thank you Miss."
A tight group of watchmen passed through the gap between the litter and the other watchers, and behind them a stocky, short man towing the cook like a tugboat towing a liner.
Her head was bowed, forced down by the beam on her shoulders and the way her arms had been roped up behind it. She was fat and magnificent, her arms rounded and strong from kneading dough, her breasts white pillows that swayed as she was led past them.
Her face twisted towards them and fixed on Herrenius with a glare of hatred and contempt.
"Gods what a bum," Claudius Vibius murmured as it swayed down into the hollow. They had wrapped a grimy cloth around her, knotting it at her hip, but it did nothing to conceal the sumptuousness of those globes.
"Like a fat cow going to market," said Herrenius.
A few moments later came the skivvy, pulling back frantically against the two ropes round her neck - it had taken two men to drag her along, and another behind to whack her on her way. The neck ropes had tightened and she was choking as she jerked and pulled against them, her skinny legs braced and slithering on the tufted grass.
As she reached the edge of the hollow her legs skidded from under her so that she fell on her bottom, but two of the watch seized the beam and hauled her up and forced her onwards.
"One cow and one calf being taken to the abbatoir, and the calf's in a panic."
"I say," Rufenious chortled, "You know what, up at the Hill Farm, only been in town a week, she's probably never even seen a crucifixion … it's pretty quiet up there."
"Bucolic, sir," Regulus confirmed.
Herrenius gave a roar of laughter. "Hey, you!" he roared to the watch sergeant in the hollow.
The man turned and stiffened. "Sir."
"Put fatty up first. The skinny one's never seen a crucifixion. Give her a ringside seat, eh?"
The sergeant's answer and the girl's squeals were alike drowned out by the whoop of laughter and cat-calls from the crowd.
"Get that cloth off her though. My friend here wants to see her arse. Wants to see how it compares to his boyfriend!"
TBC
Cealia Paulina flopped down on Mira's sedan chair, massaging her temples.
"Gods the noise that girl's making … like a cat being skinned, cacat it drills right through you … Give me some of that wine Regulus, I really need it."
"If I might suggest Miss, you might try this. It is a restorative of my own devising that has often proved efficacious." He held out a small silver cup.
"Whatever," Cealia moaned as she took and drained it. She gasped, her mouth opening and closing like a fish then screwed her face up, hands waggling in the air. After some moments she fell back against the chair back and drew in several deep breaths. Her face cleared, her hands went exploringly to her temples, and a look of delight came over her face.
"Wow Regulus, that's … that's witchcraft."
"Thank you Miss."
A tight group of watchmen passed through the gap between the litter and the other watchers, and behind them a stocky, short man towing the cook like a tugboat towing a liner.
Her head was bowed, forced down by the beam on her shoulders and the way her arms had been roped up behind it. She was fat and magnificent, her arms rounded and strong from kneading dough, her breasts white pillows that swayed as she was led past them.
Her face twisted towards them and fixed on Herrenius with a glare of hatred and contempt.
"Gods what a bum," Claudius Vibius murmured as it swayed down into the hollow. They had wrapped a grimy cloth around her, knotting it at her hip, but it did nothing to conceal the sumptuousness of those globes.
"Like a fat cow going to market," said Herrenius.
A few moments later came the skivvy, pulling back frantically against the two ropes round her neck - it had taken two men to drag her along, and another behind to whack her on her way. The neck ropes had tightened and she was choking as she jerked and pulled against them, her skinny legs braced and slithering on the tufted grass.
As she reached the edge of the hollow her legs skidded from under her so that she fell on her bottom, but two of the watch seized the beam and hauled her up and forced her onwards.
"One cow and one calf being taken to the abbatoir, and the calf's in a panic."
"I say," Rufenious chortled, "You know what, up at the Hill Farm, only been in town a week, she's probably never even seen a crucifixion … it's pretty quiet up there."
"Bucolic, sir," Regulus confirmed.
Herrenius gave a roar of laughter. "Hey, you!" he roared to the watch sergeant in the hollow.
The man turned and stiffened. "Sir."
"Put fatty up first. The skinny one's never seen a crucifixion. Give her a ringside seat, eh?"
The sergeant's answer and the girl's squeals were alike drowned out by the whoop of laughter and cat-calls from the crowd.
"Get that cloth off her though. My friend here wants to see her arse. Wants to see how it compares to his boyfriend!"
TBC
D
Deleted member jedakk
Guest
Hmm... Now that you've introduced that magical restorative of Regulus's I can imagine that maybe appearing again in the story, maybe a mercy for a crucifixion victim?
Really good description, and I love the contrast between the fat and resigned cook and the skinny but terrified skivvy. I wonder how Gabby will handle it?
Really good description, and I love the contrast between the fat and resigned cook and the skinny but terrified skivvy. I wonder how Gabby will handle it?
andy01
Magistrate
Not well I expect. She seems to have a rather hysterical character with her bipolar swings. I'm eager to find out.
Oh yes, that will have an effect on her...
But I doubt that even Regulus' gargle blaster would make the next few minutes more tolerable.
This is truly excellent, Andy, thank you!
andy01
Magistrate
I'm not sure Regulus would wish to expend his recipe on her anyway. Would a high-class steward want to condescend to a kitchen slavey?
andy01
Magistrate
Down in the hollow the two had been set facing each other, each in front of a post some ten feet apart.
The cook was shaking, ripples running up and down the wide columns of her thighs, her big breasts shaking, but her face was set in a rictus of defiance, her lips snarled back. Her teeth were not good, Rufius noted. Too much access to the sugar in the pantry, several blackened and a couple missing. She had turned her head away from the posts.
The skivvy could not take her eyes off them. She was jerking her head, staring first at one then another. Her whole body was twisting about as she alternately choked and squealed, screeched for mercy, for this not to happen.
The cook was sweating buckets, rivulets running down her back, along the creased flesh at her waist, darkening the cloth tied round her waist. Down her white arms into the coarse black tufts at her armpits, beading them, dripping them down.
The skivvy was more skimpily haired, sparse gingery armpit hairs.
The watchmen ripped the loose skirts off and tossed them to the ground. The cook jerked her head and clenched her eyes tight shut as Caludius Vibius whooped in delight to see her splendid bottom bared. The skivvy howled.
Do you think slaves have no shame? The girl from the Hill Farm who'd tended goats and had tentative, nervous flirtations with boys? The woman who had run the kitchen as a kindly but absolute mistress of her craft, who had had five lovers in so many years? Do you think they have no shame?
The cook clutched her eyes tight shut and the skivvy howled.
And the bright young things pointed and giggled at the thick coarse thatch and the sparse gingery vee. At the broad hips with flesh rolls above and strong white thighs below, at the scant hips with sun-browned thighs below the white and the skinny white body above with ribs that, as Rufius pointed out, you could play like a xylophone. At the great pillowing bum and the scrawny arse stripped to be crucified.
"Don't worry Sweetie," Rufius said, gripping a cheek of his boyfriend's bottom. "Yours is far better."
The watchmen grabbed their beams and swung them round, the cook facing away from the post towards the watchers, the skivvy towards the post. A watchman planted his foot behind the cook, his calf angling behind her. Another punched her, burying his fist in her belly. She stumbled back, tripped and slammed back on the ground. They were on her like insects, one straddling her, two grabbing her legs and two her arms, two lifting the beam at one side and struggling to undo the rope on her arm.
Then they forced her wrist onto the beam.
"Not there you fools ... Get it nearer the centre. She's too fat to nail wide armed ... Nail her like that we'll pull her arms off."
She snarled as they shifted her arm against the splintery wood.
"That's better."
The sergeant placed the nail, raised the hammer, slammed it down.
And the cook was howling.
The watchman straddling her belly was jerked up and down like a rider on a galloping horse. The men holding her legs were shaken back and forth. The beam shifted although two men were holding it down.
The cook was a strong woman.
And she howled and howled as they fixed the beam and slammed the hammer down, as they unfastened the other arm, so round and plump and white, gripped it and nailed it to the beam.
While the skivvy squealed and shrieked for them not to do this and struggled against the men holding her beam.
They took hold of the cook's beam and dragged it to the cross, with her legs scrabbling and kicking, and they pulled it up until they had her almost standing with her back against the post, howling maniacally.
Alas from then the affair slipped into Keystone Cops farce.
I doubt it, now you mention it.... not unless he fancied joining her.... unauthorised medication of a condemned slave? Probably not clever, and we've established that Regulus is clever.
D
Deleted member jedakk
Guest
Glad you recognized that fact, Andy! As fat as this woman is, though, I doubt she's going to last very long once they get her up on that cross. And I can easily see this whole thing going south quickly, a Keystone Kops farce unless they've thought and planned ahead for how they're going to lift that woman.
Great writing, once again!
I can hardly wait. This is excellent, Andy. Amusing, thrilling, appalling. I haven't anticipated something with such morbid fascination since my brother (many years ago) decided to test a stapler on his own thumb.
andy01
Magistrate
"Right lads, nearly there," gasped the sergeant. "On a count of three." The other man holding up the beam on his side might have heard him, but certainly the others couldn't over the noise the woman was making.
"One, two, three!"
Then suddenly the sergeant staggered back, half doubled over. "Ahhh balls! My bloody back's gone!"
His partner couldn't cope with the sudden increase in the strain and the beam toppled out of his hands to crash on end to the ground. He only just got his feet out of the way in time.
The fall must have almost torn the cook's arm out of her shoulder as her whole weight slammed upon the nail. Screeching she twisted in mindless agony, every move shocking with pain, legs twisting and flailing, breasts bouncing in the most hilarious way.
"Don't just bloody stand there you useless cretins, you cock-sucking laughing stock. Call yourselves an execution detail? A girl's school could do better! Oh Gods, my back!"
The sergeant paused, gasping in pain.
"Dirennius, you take my place. Now get a bloody grip will you. Ready?"
Sulkily the executioners muttered: "Ok, Eliaza, keep your hair on, wasn't my fault Eliaza."
The cook's stomach was convulsing in great ripples of flesh. "She's shitting herself," Herennius chortled.
"One, two, three!" They hauled her upwards again, the sergeant alternately shouting encouragement and doubling over. And it was distressingly clear that Herennius had been right. She had completely lost control of her bowels and was jetting torrents of diarrhoea.
But Dirennius hadn't noticed. He shifted his footing to get a better purchase, stepped in the slippery mess and lost his footing altogether. He skidded forward, landing on his arse and knocking his opposite number's feet out from under him. Down crashed the beam again, missing Dirennius's head by inches.
Down crashed the cook, on top of Dirennius, her body pounding and jolting up and down, battering him into the ground. But the agony was too much. She fainted.
"Get her off me," Dirennius was yelling. "Get her off me. She's bloody crushing me!"
A watchman grabbed either leg and hauled her arse upwards while Dirennius squirmed out from under.
"Oh shit! Will you look at that."
He grabbed at a discarded loincloth and scrubbed frantically at the filth on his legs, managing only to spread it further. He twisted round and saw the back of his legs and tunic were as liberally befouled. "Just look at me," he wailed.
"Not sure I want to," yelled Herennius.
"Get up to the stream you fool," snapped the sergeant. "Clean yourself up. And while you're at it get some water so we can bring the bitch round. There's a bucket over there."
The man trudged off, still scrubbing at the back of his tunic, picked up the bucket and started up the slope. Then half way up he stopped and turned.
"There a hole in the bucket Eliaza!" He pointed at the side of the bucket as if that made things clearer. "Eliaza, a hole."
"So mend it Dirennius," the sergeant snarled.
"With what shall I …" His voice tailed off at the look of fury on the sergeant's face.
"I don't bloody care Dirennius." The sergeant straightened up, then doubled over again, clutching at his back. "Stick your finger in the hole. Stick your prick in for all I care." He turned gingerly away. "Oh Gods my back!"
It was a good ten minutes before Dirennius returned. A very good ten minutes for the crowd as their witticisms at the sergeant's expense became ever more inventive. Finally his threadbare patience snapped and he yelled: "This isn't funny. It bloody well hurts!"
At this point the skivvy made a run for it, bolting up the slope, but no one can win a race with a 50 lb beam roped to her shoulders. As she got to the crest of the hollow several concerned citizens had hurried to intercept and grab her, spin her round and shove her staggering down the slope again into the arms of the waiting watchmen. Who by now had completely lost their tempers too. A furious punch to her belly felled her and they set to kicking her like a football until the sergeant roared at them to stop. "I want her crucified, not kicked to death
Dirennius returned, lugging the bucket. Already the cook was beginning to come round, moaning and twitching. The cascade of chill stream water made her splutter and gasp. As she jerked, she felt the nails, stared at her wrists in disbelief, then howled.
"Right," said the sergeant, "drag her over to that post there. Don't want you slipping in shit again, do we Dirennius? And mind your bloody backs this time."
TBC
"One, two, three!"
Then suddenly the sergeant staggered back, half doubled over. "Ahhh balls! My bloody back's gone!"
His partner couldn't cope with the sudden increase in the strain and the beam toppled out of his hands to crash on end to the ground. He only just got his feet out of the way in time.
The fall must have almost torn the cook's arm out of her shoulder as her whole weight slammed upon the nail. Screeching she twisted in mindless agony, every move shocking with pain, legs twisting and flailing, breasts bouncing in the most hilarious way.
"Don't just bloody stand there you useless cretins, you cock-sucking laughing stock. Call yourselves an execution detail? A girl's school could do better! Oh Gods, my back!"
The sergeant paused, gasping in pain.
"Dirennius, you take my place. Now get a bloody grip will you. Ready?"
Sulkily the executioners muttered: "Ok, Eliaza, keep your hair on, wasn't my fault Eliaza."
The cook's stomach was convulsing in great ripples of flesh. "She's shitting herself," Herennius chortled.
"One, two, three!" They hauled her upwards again, the sergeant alternately shouting encouragement and doubling over. And it was distressingly clear that Herennius had been right. She had completely lost control of her bowels and was jetting torrents of diarrhoea.
But Dirennius hadn't noticed. He shifted his footing to get a better purchase, stepped in the slippery mess and lost his footing altogether. He skidded forward, landing on his arse and knocking his opposite number's feet out from under him. Down crashed the beam again, missing Dirennius's head by inches.
Down crashed the cook, on top of Dirennius, her body pounding and jolting up and down, battering him into the ground. But the agony was too much. She fainted.
"Get her off me," Dirennius was yelling. "Get her off me. She's bloody crushing me!"
A watchman grabbed either leg and hauled her arse upwards while Dirennius squirmed out from under.
"Oh shit! Will you look at that."
He grabbed at a discarded loincloth and scrubbed frantically at the filth on his legs, managing only to spread it further. He twisted round and saw the back of his legs and tunic were as liberally befouled. "Just look at me," he wailed.
"Not sure I want to," yelled Herennius.
"Get up to the stream you fool," snapped the sergeant. "Clean yourself up. And while you're at it get some water so we can bring the bitch round. There's a bucket over there."
The man trudged off, still scrubbing at the back of his tunic, picked up the bucket and started up the slope. Then half way up he stopped and turned.
"There a hole in the bucket Eliaza!" He pointed at the side of the bucket as if that made things clearer. "Eliaza, a hole."
"So mend it Dirennius," the sergeant snarled.
"With what shall I …" His voice tailed off at the look of fury on the sergeant's face.
"I don't bloody care Dirennius." The sergeant straightened up, then doubled over again, clutching at his back. "Stick your finger in the hole. Stick your prick in for all I care." He turned gingerly away. "Oh Gods my back!"
It was a good ten minutes before Dirennius returned. A very good ten minutes for the crowd as their witticisms at the sergeant's expense became ever more inventive. Finally his threadbare patience snapped and he yelled: "This isn't funny. It bloody well hurts!"
At this point the skivvy made a run for it, bolting up the slope, but no one can win a race with a 50 lb beam roped to her shoulders. As she got to the crest of the hollow several concerned citizens had hurried to intercept and grab her, spin her round and shove her staggering down the slope again into the arms of the waiting watchmen. Who by now had completely lost their tempers too. A furious punch to her belly felled her and they set to kicking her like a football until the sergeant roared at them to stop. "I want her crucified, not kicked to death
Dirennius returned, lugging the bucket. Already the cook was beginning to come round, moaning and twitching. The cascade of chill stream water made her splutter and gasp. As she jerked, she felt the nails, stared at her wrists in disbelief, then howled.
"Right," said the sergeant, "drag her over to that post there. Don't want you slipping in shit again, do we Dirennius? And mind your bloody backs this time."
TBC
