Iron Powder and Spellcasters Chapter 146

   Chapter 146 Horror Theater

   The town is rarely lively, and the two main roads that were usually deserted are now bustling.

   One after another farm trucks parked on the side of the road, and the dirt road was crowded with small stalls.

  The second Monday of every month is the market day in Wolf Town. Not only the villagers from the surrounding villages will come here, but even the Protestants who have little contact with the old believers will also show up.

   It is for this reason that Second Lieutenant Winters Montagne put the trial, the execution and the drawing together today.

  This frontier town shows her vibrant side today.

  Travelers from several nearby towns came to the market one after another, and farmers in this town also brought their surplus agricultural and sideline products to the market to sell.

  The honest farmer just spreads a piece of cloth on the ground and puts the fruits and vegetables picked from the fields on it and waits for someone to ask the price.

   And the smart farmer is already letting his beautiful daughter sell eggs along the street with a willow basket on her back.

The cries of   , haggling, and quarrels are endless.

  Because there is a public trial and execution of bandits—this is an incredible thing for farmers, and it may still be worth talking about 20 years later.

   So even farmers from neighboring towns brought their families to watch the fun, and the juggling troupe that was touring nearby also saw the opportunity to come to perform.

  Everyone was scrambling to get a good spot. The atmosphere in the town center did not have the solemnity of trials, executions, and elections, but it was like a grand celebration.

   The newly formed Wolf Town Guard is patrolling the streets and maintaining order. The seven guards are wearing armor and carrying halberds on their shoulders, looking majestic.

  The guard's weapons and armor have just been bought from Gervodin - Winters and Girard have added some equipment to the town arsenal by the way.

   It is rare to go to the county seat, and you must do everything you can do at one time.

The   Wolf Township Guard now consists of seven people, two full-time guards being the two half-eldest sons Anglo and Bell, and five part-time guards being militiamen selected by Winters from each village.

  Although he is not a professional soldier, the peasant boy wearing a shiny iron helmet and new leather armor is equally heroic.

   attracted the eyes and whispers of many big girls and little daughters-in-law, and also made their friends in the same village very envious.

   A young Dussack hugged Vashka's neck and laughed and said, "Yes! You will look good after wearing this."

   In Sergei's favor, the guards in Dusa Village were given to Vashka Morozov.

   "Don't make trouble, I'm on duty." Wasika replied with a smile.

   Dussac looked up and down: "Bought this set of guys from Gervodin?"

   "Of course, brand new, not even the paint peeled off."

   "When the day is over, lend me to wear it too."

   "Don't take it home, I have to return it to the arsenal after my duty."

   "Hey, what's this, take it back secretly."

  A silver-grey horse passed the two of them apart from the crowd. Vashka, who was chatting, caught a glimpse of the silver stripes on the horse's belly, and instantly shuddered.

   Since the convoy returned from Gervodin, no one in Langtun has been unaware of Lieutenant Montagne's "strong luck".

  Washka quickly stood up and saluted.

   The second lieutenant on the horse nodded and continued to move forward.

   "Oh, you've hurt me badly." Wasika said to her companion with a sad face.

   "What's the matter?" The other party was puzzled.

   "Forget it." Vashka urged his companions to go quickly: "Go back and talk about it."

   Touring the center of town, Winters found nothing wrong.

   On the side of the road at the edge of town, he saw Gillard quarreling with a strange young man.

   Seeing Winters, Girard waved happily: "Lieutenant Montagne!"

   Winters lightly clamped the horse's rib and stepped forward quickly.

   "This is the town's resident officer, Lieutenant Montagne." Girard said to the young man: "The business you want to do must be approved by him."

   "Good day! Your Excellency!" Before the second lieutenant could speak, the young man said first: "Although my business is often treated unfairly and discriminated against, it is absolutely reasonable and legal. Please see, this is the charter issued by the county stationed in the colony."

   The young man handed over a roll of parchment.

   After reading the content on the paper, Winters looked behind the man again:

  Several big tents stood on the side of the road, and a sick old woman sat on the side to collect money. Men in ragged clothes waited in line to get in, and then came out with their pants up.

   "You're the one who pulls the leather?" Winters asked, leaning on the saber.

   "Sir, please don't say it so badly." The pimp had a flattering smile on his face: "I'm just an intermediary, connecting the needle between a woman with skills and a man in need."

   Winters, too lazy to talk to the slick thing, checked the charter again. The wording doesn't look fake, the lacquer doesn't look fake, the signature doesn't look fake either.

   Watching the second lieutenant review the charter, the pimp's smile grew even stronger.

   "A piece of parchment, I can't tell the truth," said Winters lukewarmly.

  The pimp's smile suddenly became stiff: "How could it be? This is a charter issued by Major Ronald of Gervodin himself, can you take a closer look?"

   "Then you go back to Gervodin and bring me a letter of proof?"

   "Sir, there is a hidden mark in this charter to distinguish the authenticity." The pimp wiped the sweat from his forehead and pleaded, "Please let me show it to you."

   Winters handed back the charter.

   Interlaced his hands, the pimp secretly stuffed a bag of silver coins into the second lieutenant's palm. "Headquarters now, right?" he thought to himself

   But he never imagined that the "anti-counterfeiting mark", which has always been unfavorable, actually hit a wall this time.

   Winters threw the purse in front of the pimp and asked coldly, "You don't want your hands anymore?"

   The young man fell to his knees in panic, begging for mercy, and said incoherently: "Sir! This charter is really true, I was confused for a while..."

   "Wait here." Winters saw that the other party didn't look like a fake, and pulled Gillard to the police station.

   He didn't know much about Prato's law, so he had to find a legal expert for this kind of thing.

  The old friar Rhett had heard Girard's remarks, put the charter in his hand on the table, and said with a smile: “Plato did allow the brothel to operate legally, and this time it's really his responsibility.”

   "It's immoral!" Girard burst into flames: "And the flowers and willows are seriously ill! I don't know how many Dussacs were harmed 30 years ago."

   The old cultivator smiled and said, "There are ways to legally ban them, so it's not difficult."

   "What?" Girard suddenly came to his senses.

   "He privately occupied the town's land to operate, and could seize their personnel, tents and vehicles."

   "That kid is crazy, he deliberately set up his tent outside the town."

"The entire land in Langtun is public, what's the difference between inside and outside?" Brother Reid said lightly: "Besides, to operate such a place in Palatu, practitioners must be regularly checked by a doctor and issued a certificate before they can work. All kinds of procedures. After the inspection, one less link can take care of him."

  Gillard was speechless.

Winters persuaded old Dussack: "I see people from the logging team outside the tent. Those people have a hard time, and they are surrounded by men. It is safer for the town to have a solution for them. Besides, the charter is not good. Like a fake, since there is no need to use such means to embarrass the pimp, the best way is to let the residents of this town take care of their sons."

  Gillard was silent, and the town hall became quiet.

  Winters saw old Dussack being persuaded and stood up: "I'll go talk to the pimp. Only today, get out as soon as possible after today."

  Gillard nodded slightly.

   Brother Reid stopped the second lieutenant who was walking out the door: "Have you thought about it?"

"Um."

"That's good."

The door was pulled open from the outside, and Anglo hurriedly said to the second lieutenant, "Sir, the executioner is ready."

  Wolf town people violate the law, and the punishment below the death penalty can be decided by the town official alone.

   If the crime is a serious crime, a three-person trial committee will be formed by the mayor, the resident magistrate, and the envoys sent by the county.

   But criminals like the "Ivan Horseshoe" gang—they're neither Wolftown residents, but current criminals.

   Then there is no judicial committee, and no defense is allowed, the charges have been established, and Winters only needs to be sentenced.

   Winters habitually approached Brother Rhett to discuss.

   The old monk smiled and said, "What's the punishment? Being caught in the country of galloping horses is a death sentence. The only difference is how you want them to die."

   "There is a child among the arrested gangsters, who is only in his early twelfth years." Winters hesitated: "I would like to know if Palato's law has reduced his sentence?"

   "No, but the sentencing power belongs to you. You can reduce the sentence however you want." The monk was calm like a deep pool: "But to what extent do you want to reduce it?"

   "Exile?"

   "Palatu was not exiled. Where else would he be exiled? This is already the frontier of the Cenas Alliance."

   "Mortal punishment?"

   "To cut off a hand is to cut off the possibility of his return to the right path. Even a farm laborer does not accept a person who has ever been tortured."

   "Labor? Caning?"

"Don't you think it's too unfair to the dead people of Wolf Town?" Reid said slightly sarcastically: "Legally, Palatu does not recognize bandits, robbers and the like as citizens of the Republic, and they naturally do Without any civil rights, anyone can hunt and kill them.

  A twelve-year-old child did not volunteer to join a gang, but was forced to become a gangster. Based on that, it doesn't make any sense for you to commute his sentence. In a few years, you'll see him again in one of the gangs in the new reclaimed land. You can ask the executioner how many of the criminals he executes are repeat offenders. "

   "What then?"

"What should I do? Give him a piece of property so that he can support himself, so he won't become a robber again in the future. But don't you think it's too unfair for the dead wolf town people?" His tone was calm: "You are the officer stationed in Wolf Town, and not the officer stationed in the Horseshoe Gang. Your duty is to protect the land and people of this place, not to worry about the fate of a gangster!"

  When the executioner was ready, the church bell rang solemnly.

The guards of   Wolf Town opened the cell door and escorted the seven bandits all the way to the town square.

There were at least a thousand people watching: farmers and Dusa people from five villages, long-term workers working in the manor, manor owners riding horses and their wives and daughters in carriages... Almost all Langtun people came here in town.

   Seeing this battle, the nervous expressions of several guards were evident, and Gillard was also sweating on his forehead, for fear that something would go wrong and cause a commotion.

   Suddenly a woman squeezed out of the human wall, rushed to the prisoner, and beat the prisoner with the stone in her hand.

  Washka and another guard rushed forward to separate the two. The woman was pushed aside and fell on the ground crying.

   The bearded prisoner who was beaten laughed and spat at the woman.

  Washka was furious when he saw this, and punched the bearded prisoner in the center of the face.

   The prisoner was beaten with his feet off the ground, and his nose bone and two front teeth were broken on the spot. Before he could spit the blood out of his mouth, another guard took out a rag and stuffed his mouth full.

   There was a burst of cheers from the onlookers, and the news spread like the wind that it was already known that the woman was the wife of a deceased.

   The people of Wolf Town who were present all lived by hard labor, so naturally they were full of resentment towards the bandits. Coupled with the sympathy for the unfortunate woman, the anger burned even more.

   It was a short walk from the police station to the town square, and stones mixed with curses kept flying towards the prisoners.

The    trial process was very simple. Several Dussacs recounted the situation on the day of the ambush in the field. Mr. Benting also appeared in court to identify the culprits and demanded blood for blood with tears in his eyes.

   After the simple process was over, the town square was so quiet that you could hear the sound of needles falling, and people held their breaths and waited for the final verdict from the town official.

   The voice of the sentence was cold: "Death, all."

  The cheers spread from the front row to the back of the human wall, and the prisoners who were still able to grit their teeth finally couldn't help crying, and the childish voice cried the most miserable.

   But no one cared about their tears, the guards dragged the prisoners off the ground and escorted them to the execution ground, and people flocked to the execution grounds behind the guards.

   In the open space on the northwest side of the town, the carpenters in the town built a temporary platform a few days ago.

  The executioner Franz Schmidt, known as the "Famous Teacher Franz", was dressed in full clothes, and his assistants were already waiting there.

   The closer you get to the execution ground, the more emotionally broken the death row inmates become. Some death row inmates are struggling to the death, while others are crying and praying for the blessing and forgiveness of the onlookers.

   Take the death row prisoner to the side of the execution ground, and everything is taken over by the executioner Franz and his assistants. The guards were visibly relieved when the death row was handed over to the executioner.

   The rest is the executioner's ritual performance.

  The famous teacher Franz, who is over sixty years old, has sharp eyes and a spirit of spirit. He has carried out hundreds of executions and has his own way to deal with death row prisoners.

  A death row inmate struggled and cursed, and the executioner's assistant, Franz's sixteen-year-old grandson, could barely control him.

  The old executioner strode over and jabbed at the death row's Adam's apple.

   The big man who was still struggling and cursing just now became dumbfounded, clutching his throat, his face flushed and he fell to the ground.

   For the prisoners who were just desperately chanting scriptures and begging for forgiveness, Franz left him alone.

  The old executioner signaled his grandson to execute the death row prisoner who suffered a severe blow to the throat first. The two carried him to a "judgment chair" on the execution platform and tied him with ropes.

  Father Kaman stepped forward and allowed the death row prisoner to kiss the scriptures and listen to the prisoner's final confession.

  The noisy crowd of onlookers gradually became quiet, and people watched the executioner prepare attentively, for fear of missing any detail.

  The old executioner was dressed in a suit that could be called abrupt, peculiar, and flamboyant, with pink tights and light blue knee-length shorts on the lower body and blue white-collar tights on the upper body.

   He took off his hat, out of respect.

   put on another leather vest, in order to prevent blood stains on the shirt.

  After the preparations were completed, he nodded to his assistant. The assistant understood and respectfully presented the weapon to the prisoner.

  The old executioner grabbed the hilt and pulled the beheading sword from its sheath in one breath.

The    execution drama reached its climax.

   It is a weapon called a giant sword. The blade is more than one meter long and weighs more than six pounds.

   A line of text is inscribed on the sword face: "Beware of evil deeds, otherwise it will be tantamount to digging your own grave."

   The execution ground was as silent as death.

  The famous teacher Franz stood solemnly, raised the beheading sword behind his right shoulder, took a deep breath, and suddenly exerted his strength.

  The sword body drew an elegant arc in the air, and cut off the two cervical vertebrae of the death row prisoner from the right rear.

  's head flew out, and Gulu reached the edge of the execution platform. Blood continued to spew from the broken neck, spattering the executioner and his assistants all over his body.

  The assistant picked up the head and held it high in the air, and showed it to the crowd around the four sides of the execution platform.

   Accompanied by the screams of a few ladies, the just-silent execution ground erupted into heaven-shattering cheers.

   Harsh government and miscellaneous taxes lead to the rampant banditry, and the rampant banditry is bound to lead to severe punishment.

  Brother Reid's words are ruthless and true: what needs to be decided is not whether the gangsters live or die, but how they want to die.

   "How do you want to execute them?" The famous master executioner asked the same question when he met with Winters.

   Burning, hanging, drowning, wheeling, car split... Each execution method corresponds to a different crime.

  Execution is not just to kill the prisoner, the execution itself is a grand show.

  The public trial, the parade before the execution, and the execution itself constitute the three elements of this horror drama.

   Honest people work hard to get enough food and clothing, but when they are thieves, robbers, and bandits, they can get something for nothing. The commoners hate bandits, but are vaguely jealous of bandits.

   Public executions are not only to deter the people, but also to declare the authority of the secular rulers, and also to give a channel to vent their resentment for those who live in hardships.

  The stable and reliable executioner represents the public power and executes criminals in a programmed and ritualized way. He is the soul who maintains the delicate balance between the three.

  Beheading—the method of death chosen by the resident of Montagne—without much pain, cleanly.

   is also the only method of execution that respects the dignity of the deceased.

  The famous teacher Franz glanced at the remaining six death row prisoners, and when he saw the sobbing child, he thought: "Heinrich [Franz's grandson] is probably only a few years older than him."

   He motioned to his assistant to be the youngest prisoner next.

   Every breath in the execution ground is a torment for the death row, which is the mercy of the executioner.

   "The bearded man who spat at the family of the deceased." Franz thought: "Let him be the last."

   The execution scene in this chapter is taken from The Faithful Executioner, a book about the life of a 16th executioner, but with some adaptations to fit the book's setting.

   Thanks to the book friends who voted for the recommendation before;

   Thanks to book friend Jiang Xue Diaoweng for his monthly pass;

Thanks to the book friend, justice and purity is koala, 54 months, the yellow rabbit of the flower gardener, 20181010005850390, book friend 20191007065305842, smoke cloud scattered, I don't know what it is called, Kaka Kaka Jia, Sky Lens, Kepler B22, Jiang Xue Diao Weng , 92 Sauce Mengmeng, last night's stone, Wu is Xiao Gao, a certain uncle of ideal 30, behere370, Moonlight Front, Sky Lens, Calm Gray Pass, Yayun Zimo, Soda Bird recommended tickets, thank you all.

   (end of this chapter)

Chapter end