“There is a pattern of behavior here, Grand Marshal. Enough for me to say that this man can’t be rehabilitated. Not in the near future at least, and is likely to resume his activities if given the chance.” Sergeant Morris announced, staring down at the trashing slaver.
The crowd leaned forward, emanating glee at the sight. Leonard would have thought they’d get bored after the seventeenth execution, but they seemed just as glad as the first time. Maybe even more.
He was pretty sure that more than one ex-slave was getting their jollies off at the sight, though he pushed that thought away. He didn’t care about anyone’s proclivities as long as they didn’t involve children or people who didn’t consent.
Returning to the dead man who didn’t know he was dead yet, Leonard lifted a hand, “I have heard your counsel. Having accessed the accused’s personal records, I can say with a clean conscience that this man is guilty!”
The crowd roared in approval. They hadn’t liked it when he had assigned different punishments to nobles who had only been tangentially involved with the slave trade, though the confiscation of their wealth had gone a long way to appease the people. But whenever someone was found guilty of enforcing slavery and profiting off it, like the merchant that was currently trying to shout through the magical muzzle, death was the only option.
Leonard didn’t think people were irredeemable. Some had deviations that required specific care, while others only needed time and consequences to understand. Unfortunately, he was at the beginning of a war and couldn’t justify setting up alternative punishments for slavers. Not that he minded. They might not be irredeemable, but they were still pieces of shit.
The merchant was dragged away by two burly soldiers and, in short order, liberated from his head. Leonard tuned out the crowd, going over his schedule.
I still need to deal with the looters. Amelia suggested getting rid of them, too, since we need to set high standards for safety. I’m inclined to agree with her on this, though I don’t necessarily think it’s a crime that warrants death. Forced labor might be better, though I need to find a way to make it sound different from slavery. I know it’s not the same thing, but people might think me a hypocrite if I throw down the nobility just to force people to work for me unrewarded…
Frankly, Leonard would much rather participate in the trials at the garrison. There, his Ministers were looking for gold among the volunteers who had been clamoring to join up with the army.
As always, there was no shortage of young people spoiling for a fight, especially when they were told the cause was righteous and pay was assured, thanks to the Revolutionary Army cracking open all the nobles’ vaults.
He knew that Amelia had been busy distributing pamphlets to capitalize on that. The long line of young men and women gathered at the barracks alone attested to her success.
“The accused had been found in the middle of a mansion in the upper district, stuffing bolts of silk in a bag,” The sergeant read when a new man - a thin, malnourished rogue who had a sheepish expression. At least this one was unlikely to make much of a fuss.
“Your name?” He was prodded.
“*Cough* Roland, m’lord," he said, looking at the crowds who were sizing him up, trying to understand if they’d see more blood today or if the spectacle was done.
“And how do you plead, Roland?” Leonard asked, allowing a hint of his power to seep into his voice. It wasn’t a truth spell, but he hadn’t seen the need to use those yet, and his time was better served elsewhere.
Luckily, it seemed enough to let the rogue understand that he couldn’t wiggle out of this as he slumped. “Guilty, m’lord. But I was hungry!”
Leonard resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Hunger was undoubtedly a powerful force, but if that was the truth, he should have been found in a pantry, not a lady’s wardrobe.
He had given up on stopping the locals from calling him a lord, too. The soldiers referred to him as Grand Marshal, his official title, but there wasn’t much difference between the two things to the average person. He’d have to work on it, but that was for later, too. A lot of things were being pushed to the future. Enough that Leonard wondered if he’d ever finish a day without the threat of looming tasks ahead.
“You are being cooperative. That is good; I’ll keep it in mind for your sentencing.” Leonard released the pressure, and the man relaxed, sighing.
The sergeant asked a few more questions, such as if this was the first offense and whatnot, while Leonard did his best to tune the man’s babble out as he tried to decide on the punishment.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Considering the number of people volunteering for the army, they would have enough to form another Corp, but he had to think about the future. Professional judges would use his decisions today as a precedent for the new republic he’d form once he had conquered enough territory.
Finally, the sergeant was done, and it was his turn. “I find you, Roland of Thelma, guilty of attempted looting. As you have been cooperative, I will lighten your sentence. You can either serve for five years in the engineer corps as a worker or join the army for two years on reduced pay.”
That was the best decision in the end. The engineer corps weren’t part of Haylich’s tradition, but they were present in Brander, so there wasn't much grumbling when he pushed for their creation. Leonard wouldn’t call himself a military historian, but he knew enough to say that having a well-trained logistics force would be fundamental in the coming campaign, and he had to start somewhere. He had already given a mandate to Gerard to open up recruiting to Journeyman and above artisans and civilian mages and promise them good pay. Building them up into a cohesive force would take some time, but it’d be worth it.
The army would be better off with less reliance on him. A few quick victories wouldn’t guarantee an easy campaign, particularly after departing from the southern coast.
Now that I think of it, I should try recruiting a few more decent fighters. Numbers are good and all, but when a Champion takes the field, there isn’t much even a thousand Journeymen can do.
Ultimately, the rogue decided to join the army as he expected. Higher pay and shorter terms made the prospects much more enticing, though Leonard wondered if the man would feel the same after being put through Gerard’s boot camp.
Finally, after several more similar judgments, he was free. Or, well, almost, as he had one last stop before he could dedicate himself to planning the next move.
Walking through the streets of Thelma, one would think it impossible that just a few days before it had been sacked. Not that Leonard had allowed his soldiers free rein, but the rebellious slaves had certainly not held back, and some damage had been inevitable, especially when the noble households gathered their courage and started using their stockpiles of firearms.
A few buildings had gone down, but all in all, the whole operation had concluded with surprisingly little destruction, which went a long way to turn the mood of the conquered population in his favor. Amelia had also worked hard with Lia’s network to spread food and medical attention to the neediest, turning them into supporters almost overnight.
Leonard had then ordered his fledgling mage corps to prioritize rebuilding the few places that had been damaged. In a short time, the town had returned to its former splendor. The main street, through which he was walking, bustled with people. Given the upcoming event, the crowds were understandable.
There is much less international merchant traffic, but considering what those people were dealing with, it’s better this way.
“Look, Mom, it’s the Hero!” A young girl shouted, pointing at Leonard and his escort. She wore a thin dress that had seen better days, but her skin was clean, and her energy was unchanged by the recent events.
Her mother, a woman with tired eyes and thin limbs, tried to pull the girl away, thinking that she wouldn’t be well received. If Leonard had been a local noble, she would have been correct and might have even risked being roughed up.
Instead, Leonard halted his march and walked over to the girl, kneeling so that they were at eye level. “Hello, young lady. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” He said in a gentle tone.
image [https://i.postimg.cc/sXMp1zyD/persimmon0-handsome-muscular-medium-short-length-hair-blonde-he-aecfeb67-3057-4872-a667-68184779eec4.png]
“You talk funny!" she laughed. It was a clear, bright sound that chased away the tiredness in his heart. Leonard had just begun his conquest, and yet work seemed to be already overwhelming. He felt it was important to remember why he was doing this.
Her mother made to apologize, embarrassed and horrified, but Leonard waved her away with a kind smile that made the woman blush. How else could I address such a spirited lady?
The girl laughed again and, to his surprise, hugged him. Leonard gently, oh so gently, gathered her in his arms, careful to barely touch her. She was so fragile compared to him that he was genuinely afraid that even just breathing next to her might hurt her.
When she stepped back, the girl favored him with a lovely, gap-toothed smile. “Thank you, Lord Hero! Mom says you saved us!”
A glance at the girl’s neck revealed a distinct mark where a collar had previously been.
Leonard didn’t react beyond smiling back and favoring the mother with a regal nod, but inside, he could feel a familiar rage being stoked again. The depths of depravity people could go to would never cease to stun him.
He pulled away, mood somber once more, and resumed his walk. The soldiers around him noticed his shift but didn’t comment. It’d be a while before they had enough familiarity with him to feel comfortable saying anything, and Leonard wasn’t in the mood to reassure them. Soon, he reached the market square, where his mages had lifted a large stone stand.
Standing at the edge of the crowd that had gathered, he recognized Neer, the slave guard of the Mayor who had sworn herself into his service upon being freed. With a few long steps, he joined her.
“I dreamed of this day,” she said without looking at him, eyes fixated on the empty stand. “I knew the chances were low, but I never stopped hoping and working for it to come."
There was a fire in her voice. An emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Leonard thought it might be gratitude and satisfaction, but that didn’t feel right. There was something deeper that could only be cultivated through the darkest times.
A trumpet broke through the din of the crowd, and everyone quieted down while Leonard and Neer walked over to the stands, ascending to the top. From the other side, a group of soldiers accompanied Gareth and another man.
Dandelion De Hoop had seen better days. His face was swollen, and he stumbled, only held upright by the knight’s firm grip.
He hadn’t been tortured exactly, but extracting information from a noble trained in the basics of mental defenses was a grueling process. It had been difficult even for Amelia to ensure he didn’t die from the intrusion. Pain helped to break concentration and made the job much faster.
Turning to the crowds, Leonard opened his arms and addressed them. “People of Thelma! Today, you are here to witness justice. Not revenge. Not anger. Dandelion De Hoop has committed and confessed to innumerable crimes. Today, you can see that justice comes for all.”
With that, he stepped back and gestured for Neer to go ahead. The half-orc could barely contain a savage grin as she lifted the headman’s axe with one hand.
Leonard could see her visibly savoring the experience and didn’t begrudge her. Light knew he’d do worse once he got his hands on the people responsible for Belinda’s death.
The axe came down, smoothly severing the head from the body.