Gillian
Magistrate
The foreman looks directly at me. His gaze on my breasts. A slight smirk. "GUILTY"!
"The prisoner will rise to receive the sentence of the court"! Its as though I am hearing this from afar. Rough hands grab me and force me to stand on wobbly legs. I try to gather the thin cotton dress around me but it still gapes open. Two sizes too small at least, and buttoned at the front. No bra or slip - only a pair of thin cotton panties underneath.
"Gillian Wilby" "You have been found guilty of treason and conspiracy". "At noon on Saturday next you will be taken to the crossroads, where you will be crucified until you are dead". A moments silence. Then a shriek and cry from the seats adjacent. "no no NO"
From my three daughters. All dressed in thin cotton dresses like mine. All a size or two too small. and incently short. My eldest, Jane, is desperately trying to cover her modesty but her breasts are almost exposed .
My knees are weak. I don't understand. It should be "Lady Wilby" . And I have done nothing wrong. Nothing at all. And now..... Crucifed? That happens to other people. To thieves and murderers. To common people. It is all I can do to stand.
And the judge and the clerk of the court - they are friends. Only last week I was sitting across from him at dinner, and he was gazing at my décolletage. All evening. And now - he does not even seem to know me...
"but John - this is all a mistake. You know that" "there must be something....." I am gabbling..
The Judge regards me. "The prisoner will be silent" "No right of appeal". "Saturday is - let me see - the day after tomorrow. In the meantime, the prisoner will be accommodated in The Tower Prison". A thin smile. "I am sure the governor and his staff will make her very welcome"
Counsel stands. "Your honour". "The prisoner has three adult daughters". He indictates with his hand. What provision for them?
The judge ponders slowly. "Their names" he intones. "Jane, 20 ... Eleanor and, er Mary, both 18".
"It will be the first Saturday of the month?" He looks over his spectacles. "The day of the monthly slave market?. Well, the state can hardly be expected to make provision for them, can it Oh dear me no"
"Very well then, the two youngest will be sold in the slave market and the cost donated to defray the prosecution expenses" "Jane, however, will share her mothers fate - a pretty mother and daughter will draw a very satisfactory crowd, I am sure".
He snaps his ledger shut. "Take them away".
"The prisoner will rise to receive the sentence of the court"! Its as though I am hearing this from afar. Rough hands grab me and force me to stand on wobbly legs. I try to gather the thin cotton dress around me but it still gapes open. Two sizes too small at least, and buttoned at the front. No bra or slip - only a pair of thin cotton panties underneath.
"Gillian Wilby" "You have been found guilty of treason and conspiracy". "At noon on Saturday next you will be taken to the crossroads, where you will be crucified until you are dead". A moments silence. Then a shriek and cry from the seats adjacent. "no no NO"
From my three daughters. All dressed in thin cotton dresses like mine. All a size or two too small. and incently short. My eldest, Jane, is desperately trying to cover her modesty but her breasts are almost exposed .
My knees are weak. I don't understand. It should be "Lady Wilby" . And I have done nothing wrong. Nothing at all. And now..... Crucifed? That happens to other people. To thieves and murderers. To common people. It is all I can do to stand.
And the judge and the clerk of the court - they are friends. Only last week I was sitting across from him at dinner, and he was gazing at my décolletage. All evening. And now - he does not even seem to know me...
"but John - this is all a mistake. You know that" "there must be something....." I am gabbling..
The Judge regards me. "The prisoner will be silent" "No right of appeal". "Saturday is - let me see - the day after tomorrow. In the meantime, the prisoner will be accommodated in The Tower Prison". A thin smile. "I am sure the governor and his staff will make her very welcome"
Counsel stands. "Your honour". "The prisoner has three adult daughters". He indictates with his hand. What provision for them?
The judge ponders slowly. "Their names" he intones. "Jane, 20 ... Eleanor and, er Mary, both 18".
"It will be the first Saturday of the month?" He looks over his spectacles. "The day of the monthly slave market?. Well, the state can hardly be expected to make provision for them, can it Oh dear me no"
"Very well then, the two youngest will be sold in the slave market and the cost donated to defray the prosecution expenses" "Jane, however, will share her mothers fate - a pretty mother and daughter will draw a very satisfactory crowd, I am sure".
He snaps his ledger shut. "Take them away".
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