Chapter 4

“The empires are now all at peace and are poised to stay that way indefinitely.”

—Anonymous, Chronicles of Discussion, Volume MMMMLVI page 498

Blinded by the morning light, Reyn was led to the gallows. Vor gripped his shoulder lightly, daring him to run.

Reyn thought about running, but Vor’s warning stuck in his mind. He worried that a poor escape attempt would kill him even sooner. He weighed the benefits of escaping against the possibility of dying sooner and dying in what would be, for the crowd, an exhilarating spectacle. What a strange world this is, he realized for the first time. Alive but soon to be dead.

He decided to play it conservatively. He would try to escape when they were not expecting it. Maybe he would discover a power inside himself and somehow escape.

His vision adjusted to the bright light.

A crowd filled the wide, expansive plaza. Shoulder to shoulder, thousands watched. Some jeered at him over the deafening roar. Others cried out, offering their fresh buns, morning sausages, hot pretzels, sandwiches, and other fresh delicacies like fruit or jerky to the crowd. Shifting gravel crunched under his weight, with each step deepening his sense of foreboding.

Reyn reached the gallows’ stairs. Seven stairs. Near the top, he tripped. The hand on his shoulder released him, letting him fall. Slivers dug into his left hand as he caught himself. He thought about running away, but hesitated. The hand on his shoulder returned. He resumed his climb.

Reyn looked up. It looked surreal, as though it couldn’t kill him. It was just a bunch of unfinished wood. Two beams rising up from the floorboards connected by a crossbeam. From it hung three nooses. Reyn looked behind him, expecting two additional prisoners. No one was there.

“What?” Vor said. “You expecting two others, just because there are three nooses?”

“What are you going to do with the extras?” Reyn asked.

“You. Going to hang you three times,” Vor laughed.

“Stop teasing him,” the sorcerer said. “No reason to be cruel.”

“Ah, I’m just having fun.”

Reyn still looked for avenues of escape, yet he saw none. The man’s hand still lightly gripped his shoulder; the noise of the crowd seemed to go away; the whisper of a soft wind tickled his ear; the morning sun shined on him through a gap in the buildings surrounding the plaza. A few crows landed atop the gallows.

Reyn stopped at the first noose, but Vor pushed him along until they got to the third, farthest from the stairs. As the two men positioned Reyn below the noose, he looked at his surroundings once more, now above the crowd.

The plaza’s size was immense. Faces at the far edges couldn’t be discerned at all. Stretching up to five and six stories tall, spired buildings surrounded it. Almost all of them had balconies, and of those, almost all of them had people looking at him. All eyes were on him. There was no escape.

He accepted his fate then. At least he would die, not alone nor old, but with shouts and cheers. There were worse fates.

The sorcerer raised his arms as a signal to hush the crowd. The crowd obeyed.

“We are here,” the sorcerer paused, “to exterminate a menace to our society. Whatsoever cannot be melted in the pot, must be thrown out. The charges are many, and with respect to the families involved, we will not discuss them. Order must be observed. Justice will be satisfied. If the condemned wishes to speak, this time now is reserved for that.” The sorcerer turned his head to Reyn.

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He had to try one more time to clear his name. “I really didn’t do anything wrong,” Reyn began, but the laughs and jeers stopped him. Some even threw food.

Someone in the crowd managed to be heard over the rabble, “That’s why you’re getting hanged!” The crowd roared even louder.

The two executioners waited a moment to see if Reyn would continue. Reyn didn’t know what to do. He meant what he said in all seriousness, but the crowd just took him as a stupid murderer. His sadness lifted a little when he remembered the letter he had given to the old lady. Surely, his father would remember him as a good son.

Vor put a black sack over Reyn’s head. Now staring blindly ahead, he felt the rough cord fall across his shoulders.

* * *

Seff arrived early.

Shrouded in morning darkness, the gallows looked ominous. Seff surveyed the plaza and the streets leading into it. He considered the surrounding buildings as escape routes, but dismissed the idea. With the boy to deal with, they would be trapped.

Ten different streets led into the plaza. He scouted the maze of streets, trying to determine where they connected and what they led to.

By the time he returned, the earliest of the spectators and food vendors had arrived. Seff bought a crepe with ham, cheese, and mushrooms. It was delicate, flaky and hot, freshly made as he watched. Other vendors were soon there. Seff washed the last bites down with a beer. He gained a newfound appreciation for hangings: hot, fresh food at dawn.

Within a few more minutes, Seff could see how the crowd might be an advantage for helping them escape. The plaza was packed. He worked his way to the gallows for a better view.

He wished Baka had been willing to come along. It would have made it easier.

A gap in the buildings allowed the sun to shine on the gallows and what was presumably the door through which the condemned would be led. Even now, the sun’s exposure almost fully covered the door in bright light.

Seff sized up the gallows. Seven over-sized steps led to the platform. Gravel and pebbles covered the ground around it. One could easily turn an ankle on it.

He started getting nervous. He knew what he needed to do. He would need to eliminate any and all nearby guards, in addition to stealing all of the case information from the station itself. With the files, they would have a record of the boy’s address and family. From there, they would capture him eventually. The solution would be to deprive them of the information.

It wouldn’t be hard; he would set fire to the station and walk in. Just in case, he’d have both his wands out. He might have to kill a few people, but hopefully they would run at the sight of his wands.

He could still let the boy die. He shrugged thinking about it.

It would mean less work, fewer deaths. Others might be just as good as this kid, but they wouldn't be as loyal or powerful. And this way that he had planned—rescuing the boy, gaining his undying loyalty—had a certain simplicity. The boy’s power would be a solid backbone for anything Seff had planned.

The Imperial Sorcerers’ Academy was four years away. Everyone they accepted would be twenty years old and he knew the Academy was selective. Tens of thousands of applicants would fill their halls but they could select only a thousand or so. He would need a great education in addition to knowing the basics of sorcery. He looked forward to that day, but for now he must seize the opportunity which lay before him—to recruit one of the most powerful young sorcerers in the world.

Knowing what he did about test results, tutored as he was in sorcery, the rumor of the burned courtroom filled Seff with awe. Few would truly understand its significance. The reason why the boy would be hanged so soon was even more evidence of this. Someone wanted the boy dead and fast. That alone meant this deadly venture was worthwhile based solely on that. As long as he survived, that was fine. If he and the boy survived, that was even better. Seff just needed to survive trying to save the boy.

If they both lived, then their destinies would be connected. He had no doubt the boy could propel him into the upper tiers, if not the highest tiers, of government and power.

The door opened. He could see three figures emerge: a large man, a sorcerer, and a boy. They walked to the stairs and climbed them. Shortly thereafter, the sorcerer spoke about justice. Seff smirked at the man’s audacity; to talk about justice when the actual person who should be hanged was in the crowd. Seff almost shouted you have the wrong boy, but thought better of it. He would wait.

While Seff was lost in thought, the boy said something that caused the crowd to roar. He paid closer attention now to the large man’s axe laying close by, the sorcerer’s wand, and the nooses. When the noose slipped over the boy’s neck, Seff decided to act.

He quickly said a few runes, loosing a spell that burned through the rope, severing it from the beam. With the ends still smoldering, the noose swung harmlessly down. It hung from Reyn’s neck like a necklace. The boisterous crowd was silenced.

Reyn heard the sorcerer next to him grunt, “Clever boy.” With a bag still over his head, Reyn didn’t know what was happening. The crowd grew silent.

The sorcerer then spoke some unknown words. At the same time, he ripped the old noose from around Reyn’s throat. He pushed Reyn over to the next noose? And then Reyn felt a noose fall onto his neck again and tighten.

“Pull the pin,” the sorcerer cried.