Throughout his travels, Appo had found there was no unified penitentiary system along the Thorne. What was considered a crime and the scope of the punishment varied from town to town. For example, Appo was informed that thievery is considered highly taboo in Ash, and its punishment almost always severe. In a world that thrived on bartering, taking away a man’s life was no worse than taking away a man’s way of living. Ash had no formal executioner. Instead, those committed of high crimes were often sentenced to walk without protection into the Eivettä at high noon. The result was always the same.
Before the first screaming man arrived in Ash, the cells held mostly petty criminals. Drunkards, beggars, and blasphemers made up its population. The jail itself was a modest building, made with the same mud bricks and stone combination common amongst the city. Its corners and windows were reinforced with iron bars, but otherwise it wouldn’t stand out from the taverns.
When Boah led Appo and the others to the jail, the most notable aspect of the building was that its iron windows were boarded up. Wood isn’t exceedingly rare in a trading post as big as Ash, but it wasn’t cheap. It was normally used for luxury items; rarely was it used in such a manner. Outside of the building itself, everything seemed off. Appo was unnerved by how quiet this section of Ash was. ‘West Shell’, Juddken had called it under his breath. It was an apt name: the far northwest corner of the city seemed utterly devoid of life. Outside of Appo, Jere, Boah and two of his personal guards, there was not a single breathing soul. Even the air, which Appo had imagined to still be sizzling under the setting sun, had gone silent.
“Where are the prison guards?” Appo asked, “Is anyone watching over the sick? How are they getting food and water?”
Boah shook his head. “They require none. The first sign of the sickness is that their bodies lose their lust for nourishment. Bjorn refused food and water for three moons. Even if we forced it down his throat, he spat it back out.”
“That alone isn’t uncommon,” Appo thought out loud, “I recall cases of rabid dog bites turning beggars into vicious beasts who revolt at the sight of food. How long have the prisoners gone without food?”
“Almost a fortnight.” Boah approached the jail wall. “I suppose it’s possible to make it without food that long. But surviving more than two moons without water in the Eivettä? It’s unnatural. It’s a curse, Appo, I don’t say that lightly. There are no souls behind those doors.”
Appo went towards the boarded windows. He turned to Jere, who stood behind him. “What is the purpose of these?” Appo asked, “I can’t imagine they reinforce the iron bars already more than they do.”
Jere stared at the walls, ignoring him. He had not spoken to Appo since he shook Boah’s hand. Boah answered for him. “They not for protection. Listen for yourself. It’s safe.”
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Appo did so. The boards felt thick and solid, but as he pressed his ear against them, he could make out whimpers and moans. People were in there, sick or not. Appo felt a sudden urge to get to them. He wanted to tear off these walls and study this disease. Perhaps it wasn’t as unique as the symptoms made it out to be.
“You must think us cruel for doing this,” said Boah, “but this is for the best. What the curse has done to them… it’s irreversible. Were it not for our mercy, Bjorn would be like them, screaming and tearing at flesh. His flesh. Our flesh. We must destroy them, like we must destroy that vile woman. Our holiest of holidays is at stake, not to mention the lives of everyone in Ash.”
Appo stared at the walls deep in thought. He knew that the disease would continue to spread even with the shaman out of the picture. Best case scenario, he knew only the situations of not even half of the victims. His only certainty was that he didn’t know the whole story. For a healer such as himself, Appo knew that if he didn’t have all the answers, he had to go in search of them.
“The accursed… are they secured in their cells?” Appo asked.
Boah laughed. “You’re not seriously considering going in there, are you?”
“If I want to advise you, I need to learn as much as I can about this… ‘blight.’ I need to determine without a doubt what these men have become. You said it yourself that it defies tradition to execute those near such a holy occasion. If I can determine without a doubt that they are indeed dead… putting them out of their misery won’t defy your traditions.”
One of the guards, a stout man who was a head shorter than Appo, stepped forward. “If I may, Sir Awil-Ishtar, the jail was barricaded for protection against the sounds. The last we checked the prisoners were secured. With precautions, we could safely engage in the healer’s curiosities.”
Boah looked to the guard, turned to Appo, then back to the guard. He leered down over both men before smiling. “Your call, Duncic. Take the proper precautions. I’m sure he’ll come to agree with us once he sees what we’ve seen.”
The stout guard, Duncic, beckoned Appo to the door of the jail. He began unfastening many of the several locks in place. “There are a few things I need to make clear. Do not approach the cages. I repeat, do not get within an arms’ reach of the cages. They will try to grab you. They will be very agitated by your presence. Once you come outside, our men will have to check the skin of your arms and legs. If there is a cut or scratch, we will throw you back in there and lock the door. Understood?”
Appo hesitated slightly before nodding. Duncic carefully opened the last lock and opened the door. Appo looked inside, perceiving only darkness. The moaning from behind the boarded windows became more pronounced. He looked to Jere, who was sharpening his new scimitar with a rock, paying no mind.
Appo was on his own, but he wasn’t going to abandon his duties as a healer.
Duncic handed Appo a small stick. Customary to the region, most guards carried torches at the ready. Duncic took a flint and lit the torch aflame. He handed it to Appo. “Remember, keep your hands by your sides. I’m going to lock the door behind you, don’t be alarmed when I do. Knock when you’re ready to return.”
The healer stepped forth into the darkness. Duncic closed the door behind him.