"Dammit, Samuel!" Jigano might have roared if the body he was in didn't turn it to a loud neigh instead. He redoubled his struggle against his captors, feeling the gentle warmth of the feather as it settled into his mane. It sat there, tingling, a bare inch from his skin and the ropes around his throat, making him itch in the most abominable way.
He bucked as Samuel was dragged away from him - his friend bound with his wrists behind his back and forced to kneel at swordpoint - swearing viciously in three different languages, but they didn't have to wait long. The red carpet was rolled up by trembling servants to reveal polished flagstones beneath - except in one area, charred black as if from great heat. Others brought large ricks of wood that were arranged on the spot, even as a quartet of massive guards rolled in a large black cauldron, large enough for a man to sink into to his neck - or lower, if he was short, as Sam was.
The courtiers whispered among themselves, fearful and unhappy as the tripod was assembled and the buckets of water brought to fill it. The fire crackled merrily beneath, adding a cheerful cast to the morning. The Vizier strode over to smirk down at his captive, ignoring the white horse's whinnies as always. "You thought you could deceive our King, traitor?" he gloated cruelly, though the unholy glee in his eyes told a different story. "You shall receive the just desserts of such betrayal!" Once more the strange passage of time seemed to occur, the cauldron full and bubbling as he turned away.
"This bath will wash away your sins against the kingdom," the King intoned, striding to join the Vizier and dragging the firebird's net cruelly behind him, like a child with a toy. "Though I doubt even God will find mercy on your black soul. Do you have any last words, before you receive your punishment, scoundrel?" As he spoke a platform was rolled into place, with stairs to the cauldron's lip - the easier for Samuel to be tossed into the drink.
He bucked as Samuel was dragged away from him - his friend bound with his wrists behind his back and forced to kneel at swordpoint - swearing viciously in three different languages, but they didn't have to wait long. The red carpet was rolled up by trembling servants to reveal polished flagstones beneath - except in one area, charred black as if from great heat. Others brought large ricks of wood that were arranged on the spot, even as a quartet of massive guards rolled in a large black cauldron, large enough for a man to sink into to his neck - or lower, if he was short, as Sam was.
The courtiers whispered among themselves, fearful and unhappy as the tripod was assembled and the buckets of water brought to fill it. The fire crackled merrily beneath, adding a cheerful cast to the morning. The Vizier strode over to smirk down at his captive, ignoring the white horse's whinnies as always. "You thought you could deceive our King, traitor?" he gloated cruelly, though the unholy glee in his eyes told a different story. "You shall receive the just desserts of such betrayal!" Once more the strange passage of time seemed to occur, the cauldron full and bubbling as he turned away.
"This bath will wash away your sins against the kingdom," the King intoned, striding to join the Vizier and dragging the firebird's net cruelly behind him, like a child with a toy. "Though I doubt even God will find mercy on your black soul. Do you have any last words, before you receive your punishment, scoundrel?" As he spoke a platform was rolled into place, with stairs to the cauldron's lip - the easier for Samuel to be tossed into the drink.
