192 Poor Little Jimmy (1/2)
The tavern was filled with people tonight. Every stool and every table was occupied. Men and women alike, with downcast expressions and lowered heads, drank in silence.
Ale was the tavern's special- Eastern Lutani ale. The taste was horrid and the odor was worse. But ale was the way to getting drunk and getting drunk was the only thing that could make one forget the butchery happening outside.
The bard held on his harp. It was an old and battered harp he got from his brother but the strings and the tunes are still fine. He shifted his butt on his stool. He flicked a finger and a note sounded in the silent tavern. The people all turned to him- still with their melancholic faces.
”How about a song?” the bard suggested.
”To drown the cries of those knights? Yea. Good idea” A man with hairy arms said. Taking a single sip from his wooden cup, he continued ”I mean it. I don't wanna hear screams of agony tonight”
”Me too Mister. Human ears are better suited to tunes than screams” added a woman.
”Then I'll treat you a song. How about 'Jimmy's Nightmare'?”
”You wanna lose your head Mister Bard?” Sneered an aged man ”If the Punishers hear you sing that song, they'll rip your tongue out”
”To the gutters with them. Those Punishers could kiss my shiny arse” A drunk person muttered, rising his empty cup and slamming it on the table ”Sing Mister Bard. Sing us that song”
The bard formed a smile. He bowed slightly and put his fingers on the string. The first notes of the sad song followed.
'Thrung in the air, arrow made its path
Little Jimmy's leg it hit.
The wick of the war, pious man hath
loathed a statue a bit....
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The Punishers and Tobias bowed on the ground. Thirty people stood tied and gagged on top of the wooden platform. Below the statue revered as the Omniscient were thirty pots filled with brimstone.
The Punishers, in their black capes and disfigured helms, screamed a long cry to praise the Omniscient. Tobias raised his arms, his head looking up.
”We offer these heretics to you oh Omniscient. Burn them with your holy fire and cleanse their bodies with your searing goodness. May your light guide us to victory. May your providence of faith reach our hearts. May we never stray from your teachings. May we fulfill our purpose in your name. Oh Omniscient above, save us from the evils of this world. We declared our allegiance to you and only you!”
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'Little Jimmy fell, a roll in pain,
but nobody heard his plea.
Grand Master's oaths, broken and in vain
Pious man refused to see...
*********
The sentry stood on the tower. His helm was tied with a strap over his chin. His spear was pointed upward and held with one hand. His brown eyes were fixed in the darkness, searching for a movement.
The cold wind blew, rattling the creaky wooden roof of the tower. The lamp hung on the side of the tower swayed. His shadow danced under the silent moon.
Rustles in the bush a few hundred paces front reached his ears. He looked, opening his eyes and keening his senses. Squinting, the sentry eyed the bush.
Armored horsemen erupted from the bush. Their approach was slow and calm. Their mounts trotted in uniform. The front horseman wore a golden brown cape painted with the image of a broken crown in front of a sun.
The sentry tilted his body and reached for the horn. His stomach was met with the cold bite of a dagger. The person holding the blade was also armored- a knight. The knight cupped his mouth. As he was being dragged, he could see his trickling blood form a smudge on the floor of the tower.
The knight dragged him all the way to the stony steps of the wall. He was conscious enough to take one last look at the gate. As the sentry closed his eyes, the last scene he saw was that of a small battle near the gate. Armored knights fought against the other sentries. The losing side was theirs.
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'Broken was his shin, gushing- his blood
Crimson shade, tears never fade
Little Jimmy
Oh little Jimmy
Poor thing
His only sin is faith
He knows no hate
Poor little Jimmy...
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