CRCVFIXION, CONCLVSION
Coastal fog cast everything in the gloomy light of the new day. Purple-colored
vegetation dotted a muddy blue on hills bordering the valley. Shards of strewn
pebbles on the quarry floor presented variations of dull grays. Posted sentries
huddled around a weak campfire swathed in tightly wrapped brown cloaks in hopes
of warding off the early morning dampness.
Sethra barely moved as she hung high atop the cross. Numb limbs long ago refused
further exertions needed to move up and down the upright in excruciating
attempts for air. Hanging as she now did, she learned survival was possible by
the slightest in and out movement of her belly. As long as her joints held, that
is.
Earlier fears about facing challenges posed by various tortures and ultimately
crucifixion proved well founded. Her head hung groundward, arms extended far
behind her. The shredded back away from the upright as she pondered her fate.
The Romans were right; crucifixion was ignominy.
Soldiers stirred from their campfire as the centurion approached, but the old
supervisor wasn't concerned with a surprise inspection. He seemed more
interested in the condemned. His crest angled back as he appraised the rebel. In
his hand he held an object and handed it to the nearest legionnaire.
"Looks like she'll be needing this for today." He handed over a small wooden
seat, or sedile. Set atop it rose a column of iron nuggets, each larger than the
next. The rough pile, or cornu, was a little longer than a man's palm and
tapered as it approached the sedile to about the thickness of two fingers.
"Men get some ladders and lets put this thing in."
Breath came more easily for Sethra as she sat upon the small seat. The cornu
hurt, at first, but hanging with her arms nearly straight out was worth the pain
made inside her anus. Her back, mostly abraded from the hillside and across the
rocks, now rested against the upright.
Not only were her limbs numb.
Across the way a short column of slaves tramped in chains to the springhouse.
She recognized the naked males. They glanced her way as their fettered march
continued. None smiled.
On the order of the centurion two of the arriving slaves were commanded to each
bring buckets of water. Grooms ran down the hill from their stables in the city.
Soldiers met the grooms and took from then the currycombs that they attached to
long staffs.
Sun burned through the overcast skies and more color was added. Chop in the bay
sparkled, blue sky replaced the gray and surrounding greenery started to
actually look green. The quarry, however, remained a pewter shade with the
exception of those present.
Contents of two buckets were thrown up high. Water dripped from Sethra. The rag
around her waist darkened as the water sloshed. The two slaves were then
commanded to use the staffs with the currycombs and scrub their leader's caked
wounds.
Her head rolled as she cried out. Coarse bristles scraped away scabs and rubbed
raw what uninjured flesh remained. Thorny points sank into her arm as she laid
her head on it. More scrubbing forced her back away from the upright. The move
actually thrust her into the wrath of the bristles.
Sethra screamed again.
When more sun broke through, she quietly whimpered and rested her crowned head
on another arm. Water splashed a second time. Much was washed away.
The centurion looked up at the female. Already the day was warming, he thought.
Soon either bees or ants or birds would find the bitch. He cursed and pulled at
the already hot neckline of his uniform. He could only imagine what Trenus was
up to at this very moment.
Back in the city's most fashionable district, in one of the wealthiest homes, in
that home's boudoir lay a naked Trenus. Spending the night with Julianna had
been time well spent.
"Enjoying breakfast?"
He heard her coo and felt her delicate fingers in his hair as he sucked the
small grape from her navel.
"Yes, as a matter of fact I am."
An errant thought crossed his mind as he chewed the moist tidbit from its tasty
warm vessel of how Sethra, the rebel, must be doing. There, but for the grace of
the gods, he thought, go I. Trenus smiled, swallowed what he could, and licked
the remainder.
Fini
