Bab 84: The Gallows
"Where is my prisoner?" Jostice yelled, eyebrows furrowed. "Where is he?"
Boris sunk into the chair like a retreating kitten. The jailhouse was quiet. "I accompanied you to the ranch … do not ask me. All I know is, somebody authorized his release."
"Who?" Jostice clutched the man's collar, raising a fist. He would beat it out of every deputy and prisoner in he had to. The cell was empty, and Varko was missing. "I swear if you don't give me a name …"
"Enough, Sheriff," said a deputy neither short nor tall with a bushy mustache. "I was the one who allowed the release … the document was signed by the mayor."
Jostice looked over his shoulder, releasing Boris forcefully."You're telling me that the Mayor signed his release."
"Likely a forgery," Boris adjusted his collar. "The Mayor would never sign such a thing."
The mustache man lowered his chin. "Guess that means my badge—"
"You're goddamn right!" Jostice spat. He ripped it from his chest and threw it on the table. He pointed towards the back, "now I need you to get some answers out of them Yurks, before they're hung tonight, or you won't be getting it back. What's your name?"
"Palmer, Sheriff …"
Jostice jerked his head, "now get." The deputy was off. He drew his attention on the large man. "You've worked closely with the Mayor?" Boris nodded his head slowly, likely wishing he was the one collecting information. "Then you can tell me whose signature it was." Jostice snapped his fingers. "Palmer!" The man stopped near the back. "Where's that parchment?"
"The man took it with him, Sheriff."
"Then what are you standing around for? Do as I asked and get information out of them Yurk bastards … they're responsible for the death of a man."
Palmer nodded, "right, Sheriff," moving much hastier.
Jostice clenched his teeth. It was just like the Mayor pulling the shoe from under his horse. I was never released from Keeblor clutches … he's still got a hold of me now. He glared at the oversized man. And he's got his hands in all his puppets—
"Sheriff!" Palmer screamed loudly from the back. His cry killing the jailhouse silence. "You better come quick!"
Jostice pulled his revolver and waved it at Boris, "Back me up …" With a quick spin on his heel, he was off running towards the back of the jailhouse. Gun raised to his chest.
It was just as he'd left it, all but the empty cell where Varko had been, and the few filled with new Yurk bodies. The gloom swallowed everything, while sunlight poured through the front windows, hardly lending light to the back.
"What is it—" He reached Palmer and peered through the bars. "God damn it!" Palmer reached for his keys. "No!" Jostice shook his head. "They want us to enter, likely to get a jump on us. We're few and they are many."
Boris panted. The short jog leaving him breathless. "What is it … my Lord!" His small, squinting eyes, opened wider though his iris stayed hidden. "They've bitten their tongues clean off."
Inside the blood pooled at the mens boots, their blackish-red tongues swimming like slugs while crimson liquid ran down their cheeks. Two stiff in the corner. Drowned from their own fluids.
Warfork grinned, bloody, black teeth, while he stared with sharp eyes full of hate, no soul left inside. He sat cross-legged in the corner. Unable to stand from his wounds.
Jostice shook his head, grimacing. "These men have already chosen their paths. Let the men who want to go by drowning do so … and those left alive will be hung up like a Dhuragian pinata."
"And what if they all drown?"
Jostice shrugged, "means we get to go home early. Here." He placed the badge back in Palmers hand. "I reckon I won't be staying Sheriff much longer. You might as well keep this stupid thing…"
Night came blacker than sin. A starless night only reserved for the souls of the worst kind. The moon had abandoned the world once more, staying hidden, keeping its eye from watching the cruelty of man.
There came a stir from the crowd that had gathered at the city square gallows. And the Mayor made certain of it. Providing stands where the townsfolk could purchase meat sticks and fluffy corn; brown, gooey chocolates and bright, ripened fruits; tubed instruments and Sundown City flags while Richie stood at his wagon selling alchemy drinks, sight enhancers, and other trinkets to fill his pockets.
The Mayor stood on top of the gallows, wearing black trousers, black button shirt, and a black cape worthy of the nights sorrow. He raised his coned instrument, bringing silence to the crowd. "My friends!" His voice chirped. "We have gathered here tonight to bring justice to the fallen …" He turned his attention on the Womberwheels and the Mirrmanes. who were gathered on the left side of the tower. Faces sunken. Eyes swollen. "My apologies to you folk for the tragedy on the train … but to I ask for your forgiveness, by the death of those responsible." He bowed his head then with a great breath, lifted his chin, throwing his voice from the gallow to the city capitol. "Bring me the prisoners!"
Jostice turned his locked his elbow around Warfrok while palmer took the other, both men hoisting the man to his feet. Allowing his weight to hang on their shoulders. Rung by rung, he walked up, rising higher on the tower. The Yurks limbs dragging. Head twisted in the Aces direction, brows furrowed. Lip curled ugly.
"You had me beat, old one." Jostice whispered, feeling the pain that replaced his two fingers. "You did not fall in defeat … I won the coward's way … how I won my duels … how I'd defeat your son." Jostice sighed. "You will die with honor, and hopefully your God or ancestors, or whomever the fuck is on the other side, will give you more respect than the people on this side." His boots hit the top.
The Yurk's gaze never changed as he was brought to the seat, his final resting place. Jostice looked at the man once more and nodded his head at the older Yurk. Warfrok glared back, without the same respect for him.
Only eight other Yurks survived the night. The rest had drowned or had fallen at the ranch. They stood on both sides of Warfrok, chest out, heads raised, welcoming their send off like true Yurk warriors.
Jostice took his place by the hang girl, Janie Cornfeld, who was as broad-chinned and short-haired as her brother Kenneth had been. Not an ugly woman, nor one worth chasing, but a woman who held herself without an ounce of rakish in her stance. She held onto the a lever, ready for the pull.
The deputies who accompanied the men up the stairs placed the nooses around the Yurks necks, tightening them as snug as a tie. The Yurks kept their china high, continuing to show no fear in their eyes.
Jostice searched the crowd of excited and nervous faces. Each person holding onto their loved ones, food, or toys, preparing their eyes for the gruesome sight, and their ears for the disturbing snaps.
The deputies walked off the stage and the Mayor took his place in front, placing the instrument to his lips. "Any last words?" He paused for a moment, allowing the crowds to snicker. "Oh, right … you've all taken mute." He chuckled, inviting the crowd to laugh with him, and they did so.
Jostice glared at the man. I have more respect for them Yurks then I will ever have for that filth … He then turned back towards Warfork who looked to the crowd, eyes locked on something or someone, chanting under his breath.
Jostice followed his gaze, eyes widening.
There amongst the chuckling faces was a boy, taller than the others, with dark eyes, long braided hair, and a somber face. On his neck was the scab from the bullet that left him as speechless as his kin. He watched chanting back.
"Varko," Jostice whispered.
The mayor stopped his chuckling and waved a hand. Janie nodded, giving the lever a good tug.
There was a clack as the drop doors swung open. The Yurks disappeared from the tower platform, and several cracks and gasps followed. The few that weren't lucky, dangled, legs swinging, while their eyes splintered red, and face purpled as plums.
Once their bodies hung limp, the crowd raised their hands cheering. Jostice searched, but Varko had vanished.
He turned towards the Mayor who smirked at their pleased faces and walked over, grimacing. He yanked the badge from his coat, grabbed the Mayors lip hand, and placed it inside. "Keep it!" He said, drawing the man's attention. "You and I are finished!"
The Mayor placed a hand limply to his chest, eyes sunken. "We are finished when I say we are finished." He chuckled, waving his hand that had somehow recovered the ruby gem it'd lost. "But I'll make you a deal … You know I've made The Iron Alchemist Tournament for you … All you have to do is win. One last duel and you'll be a free man." He smirked. "What do you say, for old time sake?"
Jostice spat, "your deals are as good as shit rags … Hear 'em once and throw 'em out … but what other choice do I got?"
The Mayor shrugged. "None…"
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone