The dungeon was inside the hill on which the royal Palace resided. That’s why this door came out directly onto the main street that led to the central square.
Hadjar remembered only one execution like this from his childhood: a powerful aristocrat had been found guilty. Haver had convicted him personally. Alas, without his neural network to aid him, Hadjar couldn’t remember what he’d been guilty of. But he remembered very well how a crowd made up of thousands of citizens had rejoiced when the noble had been led through it.
Now, this crowd, this vast sea of people, stayed silent. Millions of people from Lidus had gathered on the street and were refusing to make any noise.
Hadjar remembered the stones, rotten vegetables, and rotten eggs that had been thrown at that prisoner. These people were also throwing something as well... Red, simple wildflowers. The scarlet petals rained down from the sky and covered the road in front of the General. Some of the women sobbed, and the men clenched their fists and teeth. But none of them risked meeting the General’s gaze as he moved to the platform. They, like the guards who had angled their spears toward the crowd, turned their heads away or looked anywhere else except at his calm, blue eyes. Millions of people, thousands of scarlet petals, and a deathly silence — that was how the people met their hero.
It was a cruel jest of Fate. First they’d learned that the ‘Bear squad’ Commander, one of their favorite heroes, was Prince Eren. A few months later, it turned out that the Mad General, Hadjar Traves, was in fact the heir of the previous King, the son of Haver and Elizabeth. Then Prince Hadjar Duran had been convicted and sentenced to death for attempting a coup.
The crowd was left standing behind them soon enough. Hadjar stopped in front of the large platform made of wood. It towered over the square and had been made to stand parallel to the Palace and facing the street. That way, everyone could see what happened to those who dared to resist the power of King Primus.
On the platform, in absolute silence, stood an executioner dressed in black. A heavy cap with small eyeholes hid his face. He held a bit of flint and a torch.
The guards, their faces full of sorrow, helped Hadjar climb the stairs. The executioner accepted his victim with a grim, stoic calm. He led Hadjar over to a tall post and chained him to it.
“General,” the executioner whispered while laying down brushwood around Hadjar’s feet. There was so much of it that it would’ve been possible to burn a whole village down with it. The executioner came closer to Hadjar and whispered again: “General, the pill must be hidden behind your belt. Just give me the word and I’ll put it in your mouth.”
Hadjar looked into the eyeholes of the man’s cap, but the executioner averted his eyes as well.
“You swore an oath to serve the Crown, honorable Executioner,” Hadjar’s voice was calm and determined. “Don’t forget that.”
The executioner flinched and stepped away. He turned around and went to the edge of the platform, but before he left, Hadjar heard him say: “Breaking my oath for your sake would be worth it, General.”
Hadjar stood among the brushwood. Doused with a special liquid, it tickled Hadjar’s feet slightly. There weren’t any guards from Lidus around the platform, only legionnaires of the Empire. They kept their swords unsheathed and pointed toward the enormous crowd. The people, staying silent, continued to throw red flowers onto the platform and the brushwood. Hadjar recalled a line from his favorite story: “I’m like a bear, chained to a post.”
“Cheer for your King!” A powerful cry rang out over the square from a wide balcony off to the side. The King usually stood there waving to people during the holidays, or heralds would stand up there to deliver important news. “King Primus II Duran! Cheer for your King!”
Primus went out onto the balcony, accompanied by the still smiling Governor. Elaine walked out alongside them. Wearing a beautiful, gold dress, she looked like a fairy from one of Atikus’ stories. Serra, wearing the traditional dress of her people, and Nero, gripping the sheath of Moon Beam, trailed behind her.
The crowd met Primus with silence. No one even turned toward the King. The King didn’t seem to care. He was going to give a speech. Hadjar hoped that he could withstand it. At that moment, it seemed to him like it would be better to burn in the fire than to listen to Primus speak even one more time.
Before Primus started talking, Hadjar recited the following line as loudly as he could: “I can’t run away as I’m surrounded on all sides by enemies.”
Chapter 248
“My loyal subjects!” Primus’ voice, amplified by his power, sounded like spring thunder in the middle of a clear day. “This day will be remembered forever! This day, we celebrate the final victory over the usurpers of our Kingdom! The people who tried to destroy us by making us weak! The ones who wanted to leave our country at the mercy of our enemies!”
The people didn’t seem to be listening to the King. All eyes were fixed on the General tied to the post.
“We managed to get rid of the previous despot! No one needs to give their life needlessly for the ideas of King Haver! No one tramples the memory of our ancestors with his banner in their hands! We have lived all these years since his death in peace and tranquility!”
Silence again. No one looked at the King. But they didn’t dare to even glance at Hadjar’s eyes, either. The crowd, which
