Table of Contents – (spoilers)
Billy, the ex-jailer, torturer, and executioner of the Spitzer jail tower, was brought up from the dungeon by Srecko, his replacement. Billy was not shackled and did not seem in too bad a condition, considering all that he had been through. At least it seemed that Father Morrenthall’s trust in Srecko was not misplaced; it was clear that Billy had not been physically violated during the night.
“Billy,” Father Morrenthall said warmly. “I am sure you are quite hungry. Please have a seat.”
Billy immediately complied. Father Morrenthall went to the stove and served up two big bowls of gruel himself. He set one down in front of Billy and the other opposite him, along with wooden spoons.
“Thank you, Father,” Billy managed.
“Think nothing of it, my son. Some stugroot?”
“Yes please, Father.”
Father Morrenthall poured two wooden cups of the black, astringent stimulant and took his seat opposite Billy. He served the cups before clasping his hands and bowing his head in prayer. Billy copied him just in time to avoid a cuff upside the head from Knuckle, who was lurking right behind him.
“Our Lord Stron, thank you for this food we are about to eat. May it give us the strength to do your good work this day. Amen,” Father Morrenthall prayed.
Billy sat mute, his hands clenched and head bowed, until Knuckle did cuff him behind the ear to elicit the requisite, “amen,” from him as well.
“You may eat, Billy. And thank you, sergeant; you may relax your prudence. I am quite sure that Billy shall not make any trouble,” Father Morrenthall said, gesturing for Knuckle to back up.
“Thank you, Father,” Billy said as he tucked into his gruel.
He and Father Morrenthall ate in silence, with everyone else standing around watching them. When they had finished eating, Father Morrenthall took a sip of his stugroot and eased back in his chair. Following his cue, Billy downed his stugroot in one gulp.
“Now, Billy, first of all, I must thank you for the testimony you gave us yesterday. It was most useful and actionable. So I want you to know that you have been a wonderful witness for us,” Father Morrenthall said.
“Thank you, Father. Does that mean I can go free?”
“In a manner of speaking. Because there is, of course, the matter of your sins to be dealt with. Do you remember what we discussed about that, Billy?”
“I reckon so, Father. I gotta repent, right?”
“Just so, Billy.”
“Can I do that now, Father? I’ll do it! I’ll repent so good, Father! Just tell me what to do!” Billy practically shouted in his desire to please.
“Very good, Billy. I shall tell you exactly what to do when the time is right. However, I must warn you that it shall not be an easy thing. In fact, it is going to be a very hard thing. And you shall have to be very brave and very earnest in order to get through it properly,” Father Morrenthall said, his tone now grave.
“Uhhh…” Billy said, fear rising up in him as he looked around at everyone in room, reading their varied expressions.
“Don’t worry about them, Billy. Look to me. Focus upon me. For your repentance shall be outside, in front of this entire community. Do you understand, Billy? Everyone is going to be watching. And you must bear it. So look to me. Focus upon me. We shall get through this together, Billy,” Father Morrenthall said warmly, reaching across the table to pat Billy’s limp hand.
“Uhhh…” Billy said, looking like he was about to cry.
“Look to me. Look at me, child,” Father Morrenthall said. Only when Billy had locked eyes with him did Father Morrenthall continue: “You can do this, Billy. Do you believe me?”
“Um… yes, Father?”
“Good. So, this is what is going to happen. We shall be going outside. Srecko and Sergeants Nikolas and Theodas shall be taking you up a scaffold and shackling you to my burning Wheel. You have seen this done before, yes? Well, now I am afraid it is your turn to go through it, Billy.”
“The burning Wheel? Ohhhh, no. Father, no. Please, Father,” Billy sobbed.
Father Morrenthall leaned across the table and held Billy’s hand while Billy wept. When he seemed ready to continue, Father Morrenthall spoke, his tone very gentle as he continued to hold Billy’s hand:
“I am afraid there is no other way, Billy. You must burn. One way or the other. And I will now explain to you the difference between those two ways. Are you prepared to listen to me on this, Billy?”
“Yes, Father,” Billy blubbered.
“Good boy. The good way for you to go, is to accept your fate. You have admitted your sins to me already. So, when I stand upon the scaffold in front of you upon the Wheel, I shall ask you if you admit you are a sinner. And I shall ask you of your sins. And when I do, you must admit that you are a sinner. You must simply say, ‘Yes, I am a sinner. Yes, I did so sin.’ And then you must ask Stron and Altas’ forgiveness. And when I ask you if you repent of your sins, you must simply say, ‘Yes, I do. I repent.’ And that is all you must do. Do you understand, Billy?”
“Yes, Father. But, I will still burn then?”
“Indeed you will, Billy. But you shall not burn in the flames of mundane fire. Nor shall you burn in the angry flames of Stron’s righteous punishment. No. You shall burn from within with Stron’s cleansing Holy Fire. And it shall consume your sin as it consumes you. And you shall die swiftly. And your soul shall go to our Heavenly Father, Altas, to be judged. And he shall find your soul to be as clean as that of a newborn babe. And you shall go to Heaven. Do you trust me when I tell you this is so, Billy?” Father Morrenthall asked.
“Yes, Father. I do,” Billy said. His tears had stopped, and he met Father Morrenthall’s eye squarely.
“Good, my son. Good,” Father Morrenthall patted Billy’s hand once more before easing back into his chair with his stugroot. He took a sip before continuing: “Now. I must warn you, Billy. If in that final moment, you balk; if you resist; if you deny and plead your innocence; if you refuse to accept your sin; if you refuse to repent of it: well, then, you shall burn as well. But it shall be in a fire of a very different sort. It shall not be Stron’s cleansing Holy Fire. It shall be his vengeful fire. And you shall burn slowly within it. And when you finally die, your soul shall go before our Heavenly Father, Altas, with its full weight of sin. And then you surely will be be cast down into Hell, where the suffering of your death shall pale in comparison to your eternity of torment. Do you believe me when I tell you this, my son?”
“Yes, Father. I do.”
“Good. So, my son, when we go outside: what shall you do?”
“Say yes to everything you ask. And ask forgiveness and say that I repent.”
“Very good, my son. When we walk from this place, do not let the crowd frighten you. You shall walk proudly with me to that scaffold. And if you feel afraid, or if you feel like you want to run, or that your legs cannot carry you, you shall look to me. And I will help you. Trust in me, and together we shall deliver you to Heaven this day. And what more can any man hope for? Yes?”
“Yes, Father,” Billy said, an uncanny, resolute calm upon him now.
“Good. And if you feel afraid when we leave this tower, what shall you do, Billy?”
“I shall look to you, Father. And ye’ll help me through it.”
“Exactly so. Very good, Billy. Very good indeed. I am very proud of you. Now, before we leave here to see this done, would you like to wash up? Are there any nicer clothes you would prefer to wear?”
Billy thought about this for a moment before shaking his head. “No, Father. I don’t reckon I’ve got any. And I don’t suppose that I should be putting on airs now, should I? I guess I’ll go out just as I’ve lived. And pardon me, Father, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather just get on with it, before I get too afraid again.”
“Very good, Billy. I am proud of you, indeed. What a good Stronian you have become!”
Father Morrenthall stood up and moved around the table to offer Billy his hand and help him to his feet. Then he hugged Billy warmly before giving his shoulders a squeeze as he held him at arm’s length to look deeply into his eyes.
“You can do this, my son. We are with you. Do your duty today and you shall go to Heaven.”
“Thank you, Father.”
With this, Father Morrenthall let Billy go and took a moment to coordinate with Choke, Peep, Knuckle, and Pinch precisely how he wanted the performance to go. Then he turned to Srecko:
“Srecko: thank you for your good work. I think that I shall not need you outside to help with Billy. Can you please stay here and attend to the jail? Thank you.”
Srecko nodded curtly.
Father Morrenthall then turned to Dominic, Bev, and Lenny:
“You three: understand that you are yet only recruits. You have no right to arm yourselves. When your officer, Lieutenant Pekot, sees fit to arm you, you may reclaim your gear. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Good. You will come along behind us and bear witness. Stay out of our way. If necessary, help with crowd control. Any questions?”
“No, Father.”
“Very good. Now, let us get ourselves in order. Srecko: ready at the door,” Father Morrenthall ordered.
When they all had staged themselves in the order of their procession, Father Morrenthall nodded to Srecko, who unbolted and opened the door for them.
First out of the tower were Choke and Peep, who walked side by side. Choke was armed with his spear and shield, with his longsword on his hip. Peep had her shortbow in hand.
Following them, was Father Morrenthall and Billy. They walked almost side by side, with Father Morrenthall just a half step behind with his left hand on Billy’s shoulder. In Father Morrenthall’s right hand was cradled his Holy Book.
Behind Father Morrenthall and Billy came Knuckle and Pinch, with the three fresh recruits in line behind them. Pinch had his bow in hand. Knuckle still had the cudgel in his, with its leather strap looped over his wrist. Of course, Knuckle had his greatsword on his back, with his warhammer on his belt.
As Father Morrenthall had directed, Choke and Peep cut left to circle the tower and come to the crossroads from the fort road. The crowd surrounding the crossroads was huge. Lieutenant Cooper and his men had control of them, however, and the crossroads were clear. Lieutenant Cooper was mounted on a fine warhorse and was circling the crossroads as he scanned the surrounding crowd. His men were spread out in a circle, marking the boundary with their spears and shields.
As well, Captain Edison, Lieutenant Hamon, and a half-a-dozen of their noncommissioned officers had come down from the fort. They were all mounted at the edge of the fort road. Across from them, on the west side of the crossroads towards Main Steet and the church, Sheriff Waters and his two deputies were mounted. Near the sheriff were Peep’s worshipers, who were bobbing about and wailing as usual.
There was a festival energy to the crowd of townspeople, who were cheerful and lively. Fathers had children on their shoulders for a better view, and smaller youngsters shrieked and yelled as they chased each other through the forest of legs.
“Make way for Father Spencer Morrenthall, Knight of the Holy Sword, and Magistrate of Spitzer! And his prisoner!” Choke bellowed as he and Peep entered the crossroads. His turn of phrase was, of course, somewhat odd, since there was no one in their way. But he had prepared himself to say precisely that, and could not rise to an alteration more suitable for the precise circumstances.
Even so, the crowd immediately quieted into an expectant hush.
When Billy beheld the spectacle of the crowd surrounding the burning Wheel next to the gibbet, he faltered with a moan. Father Morrenthall paused to grip both his shoulders tightly and turn him to meet his eye.
“You can do this, my son,” he said quietly, his voice soothing as though comforting a child or an animal. “Let us walk together, now. Take a step. Yes, there we are. That’s the way. Good. Good. You are doing wonderfully.”
Together Father Morrenthall and Billy walked to the short scaffold in front of the Wheel. Suspended from the top of a three-meter, iron tripod, the base of the large, wrought-iron wagon wheel was about a meter and a half off the ground; about eye-height for Choke. The Wheel was tilted back at an angle, resting on two of the tripod’s legs, with a large pile of dried lumber underneath. What Father Morrenthall had referred to as the scaffold was barely that; just a meter high platform banged together of rough-hewn logs with a simple log ladder.
When Peep and Choke reached the Wheel, they split up, each taking up a sentry position a few meters out in front of it, facing the crowd. Peep grinned and winked at Sheriff Waters as she did.
Billy managed the walk to the Wheel without any more trouble. At the ladder, Father Morrenthall asked him quietly:
“Now, my son, can you get up upon the Wheel by yourself, or do you need the sergeants to help you?”
Billy did not answer, instead showing that he could do so by climbing quickly up the platform and then onto the wheel. With the Wheel’s hub in the small of his back, Billy was able to lean back comfortably enough, standing on the inside of the rim with his ankles next to its shackles. In position, Billy closed his eyes and put his hands up to grip the wrist shackles above.
Father Morrenthall nodded happily and turned to Knuckle and Pinch:
“Sergeants: you may take up sentry positions there and there, along with your three men.”
As Knuckle and Pinch complied with the order, getting Dominic, Bev, and Lenny in line, Father Morrenthall climbed up onto the scaffold.
The crowd surrounding them was still almost dead silent, with just a few coughs and murmurs and the occasional squawk of unruly children being hushed. However, there was an electric intensity to their expectancy, like a thrumming vibration of a musical instrument’s strings, that was quickening by the second.
“Very good, Billy,” Father Morrenthall said quietly. “We need not shackle you, I think. You may lay back and rest while I address the crowd. You may grip the spokes of the Wheel as you wish.”
Billy did just that, dropping his hands to grip the iron spokes down by his sides. Having been used many times, the Wheel was shiny with the grease of those who had previously been cleansed upon it by Stron’s fire. This did not seem to bother Billy, who lay back with his eyes closed as he waited.
“People of Spitzer!” boomed Father Morrenthall, turning away from Billy to the crowd. “You see before you a man who was once an agent of law here in your community! A man whose duty it was uphold and enforce the law!”
Father Morrenthall paused to rake the crowd with his blazing eyes. He took a long moment to glower at Captain Edison and Lieutenant Hamon. Then he took an even longer one to glare at Sheriff Waters. Raising his Holy Book high in the air, he finally continued:
“But there is a law higher than that of man! Than even that of kings! Law that none may break with impunity! The law of our Faith! The law of our Heavenly Father Altas and his son, our Lord Stron! And this man did break those laws! And so he is now called to account for his sins!
“Know, people of Spitzer, that a great evil approaches from the north! An evil gathers to sweep us all into hell if we do not stand tall and fight it! We may no longer tolerate sin and corruption in our midst! For such rot will crumble our foundations as surely as termites devour wood! We must now cleanse ourselves of our sin! We must root it out! We must turn to the path of righteousness! And we must cleanse those amongst us that do not! There! Is! No! Other! Way!”
With this, Father Morrenthall slammed his Holy Book down upon his open left palm. It fell with a booming crack like a thunder clap, far louder than it possibly should be. The crowd shrieked and startled at the terrible sound.
Father Morrenthall waited for them to settle themselves before turning back to Billy. He raised his Holy Book up between them. It was now smoking.
“Billy! It is time for you to do your duty! It is now time to set things right! You have been a wretched sinner, have you not?” Father Morrenthall shouted at the top of his lungs.
Billy, his eyes closed, and with his every muscle tensed and straining, shouted up into the sky at the top of his:
“Yes, Father! I am a sinner!”
“Your sins are many, but your most vile transgressions must surely be your sexual violation of those in your custody as jailer! Is that not so?”
“Yes, Father! I am a sinner!”
“You did routinely rape women and violate women in your custody, did you not?”
“Yes, Father! I did it! I am a sinner!”
“And now, Billy, what do you do?” Father Morrenthall boomed.
“I repent, Father! I repent so hard! I repent so good!”
“Do you ask our Heavenly Father Altas and our Lord Stron’s forgiveness for your sins?”
“Yes, Father! I do!” Billy screamed, his voice finally breaking.
“Then do so!”
“Forgive me, Altas! Forgive me Stron!” Billy croaked as loudly as he could with his shattered voice.
“And as you ask, so shall you receive! Accept our Lord Stron’s holy, Cleansing Fire into your heart, my son, so that you may be cleansed of your sin! Lord Stron, cleanse this man!”
With this, Father Morrenthall pressed his smoking Holy Book down upon Billy’s chest.
At first, for a long moment, there was nothing. Then, Billy gasped as his body twisted and contorted upon the Wheel. He sat up and threw his head back in what seemed the beginning of a scream, but no sound issued forth from him. Instead, from deep inside him, a roiling plume of white-hot fire rose from his mouth and high above the crowd. Like a dragon, Billy belched forth the holy, Cleansing Fire of Stron that burned his heart.
The heat from the plume of Cleansing Fire was intense, and all there could feel it upon their upturned faces. This was no normal heat, either. Every sinner there could feel the Fire’s thirst to feed upon their sin; to cleanse them in the same manner that it did Billy.
It was no more than a second or two that Billy remained intact upon the Wheel. The intensity of the Fire in his heart soon burned through his chest and immolated his head, turning them in to charred carbon at it consumed his sin. Billy’s remains flopped back upon the Wheel and slumped, the head and upper torso gone, with the arms still connected to the shoulders to either side of a charred V.
Father Morrenthall hopped down from the scaffold and extended his hand towards the pile of wood under the Wheel.
“Lord Stron, ignite this pyre so that your child, Billy’s remains may be cremated!” he shouted.
A jet of flames, precisely of the sort that Peep could produce from her Wheel brands, roared from his fingertips and lit up Billy’s funeral pyre. Father Morrenthall, who had been completely unaffected by all of the Fire’s heat, stood before the roaring fire and prayed:
“Thank you, Lord Stron, for having cleansed this man of his sin. Our Heavenly Father, Altas: accept your son’s soul to your breast and have mercy upon it. Amen.”
“Amen,” intoned many in the crowd.
Father Morrenthall now turned to them:
“People of Spitzer: go now about the business of your day! Steady, useful action is required of all of us now! And know that the wages of sin are surely damnation without forgiveness! But know too that Billy, wretched sinner that he was in life, has now entered the Kingdom of Heaven! More than that cannot be achieved by any man! And know that any here who wish to repent of their sins may seek me out to do so! And know that your repentance, if done freely, honestly, and in a timely manner, shall not need a burning such as Billy’s! Sin need not always require the Fire! Forgiveness can be as gentle as a mother’s touch! Come to me and relieve yourselves of your burdens! Or else perish in fire! That is all! You may go!”
The crowd began to disperse upon their merry way, mostly well-pleased by the spectacle they had been treated to. The majority there remained undented by the weight of Father Morrenthall’s words, which had traversed the space between their ears to little effect.
Father Morrenthall moved away from the funeral pyre and gestured for the Pekot squad to join him.
“Sergeant Nikolas,” he said to Pinch. “You still hold the keys to the tower, do you not?”
“Yes, Father. Or, at least, the ones for the main door and first floor cage,” Pinch answered.
“Good. Take your three recruits and have Srecko let you in. Turn the keys over to him and wait at the tower.”
“Yes, Father,” Pinch said, nodding deeply. Then he saluted Choke crisply and turned to Dominic, Bev, and Lenny: “Men! You are with me!”
As Pinch and the men marched around the side of the tower, Father Morrenthall looked around the crossroads. Lieutenant Cooper and his men had tightened up their perimeter to within a few meters of the funeral pyre to allow for folk to disperse through the crossroads. Captain Edison and Lieutenant Hamon remained mounted just off the fort road. When Father Morrenthall looked at him, Captain Edison leaned his way in a nonverbal query whether the priest wanted a word with him. Father Morrenthall ignored the gesture, so Captain Edison wheeled his horse and led his men through the townsfolk and back towards the fort.
“I don’t suppose anyone saw what became of Sheriff Waters, do you?” Father Morrenthall asked mildly.
“Yeah, Father,” Peep answered. “Him and his two boys lit outta here right quick when ye told Billy that he was a sinner for raping. They were heading back up main street towards his office.”
“Indeed? Well, he is not a stupid man. I confirmed for him that he is my next target. But I am a little surprised that he could not hold his bottle. Leaving when he did will have signaled his guilt to all in attendance. Spur of a guilty conscience, I suppose,” Father Morrenthall said.
“D’ye think he’s gonna run for it, Father?” Peep asked.
Father Morrenthall gave this some careful thought before answering: “Doubtful. If he does that, he is Sheriff of Spaggot Barony no longer. And for one accustomed to power, the loss of it is usually worse than death. No, he will settle down and come to his senses; posture-up into bluster to attempt to bully me off of him. So let us track him down to have a word before he gets too settled, yes?” Father Morrenthall gave both Peep and Choke a smirk.
“Shall we get our horses, Father?” Choke asked.
“Yes, that would be best. Sergeant Theodas, you are with us. And before we set out: remember, all three of you, that Sheriff Waters is still the sheriff. He is not to be assaulted or otherwise physically affronted unless I explicitly order it. Yes?”
“Yes, Father,” Peep, Choke, and Knuckle answered.
“Good! Let’s get mounted!” Father Morrenthall said cheerfully, giving his Holy Book a good thump.
Muse Vassal 