He stood in the center of the town square, his voice booming as he addressed the gathered crowd.
"Citizens of Chambord Town! The king has announced a new law! Listen carefully:
1. All children aged of 15 and older will be recruited into the army.
2. Taxes will be increased to 20 silver coins.
3. Crop and wheat production quotas will be quadrupled."
The crowd erupted in murmurs. Dissatisfaction was written on every face, and some dared to voice their outrage.
"What do you mean, 20 silver coins? Our crop yields barely earn us 2 silver!" one man shouted.
Another joined in, "Yeah!, And what will happen to our sons when they die in battle?, This is unjust!"
The messenger's lips curled into a sly grin.
Without a word, he signaled to a soldier standing nearby.
The soldier stepped forward, seizing the two men who had spoken out against the law, and dragged them to the front of the crowd.
The square fell silent as the townspeople watched in horror.
The messenger's voice cut through the stillness like a blade. "Are these two men your family? If no one claims them, we will send them to the imperium prison!"
A woman raised her hand. "The man on the right is my husband! Please, spare him! I beg you!" Her voice trembled, tears at any moment. "I'll do anything, please!"
The messenger's smile widened, but the crowd knew she was already doomed.
"If you want to save your husband, it's quite simple," his voice kind enough to fake people.
For a brief moment, hope flickered in her eyes. But his next words shattered it.
"You have to perform a roundtable dance in front of all our soldiers."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
A few elderly women nearly fainted, while others quickly covered their children's ears.
The people wanted to shout, to curse the messenger for his cruelty.
Roundtable dance was a disgusting dance only the cheapest of whores would do to have a night with a men.
But no one dared to speak. They could only watch in silence, pitying the woman and her doomed husband.
The husband gritted his teeth in anger if he wasn't getting pinned down by the guard he would have killed this messenger with his bare hands.
But it would only happen in his fantasy. He tried to scream at his wife not to do it but before his voice could come out.
The messenger kicked his face. "What do you think you're doing? You already spoke enough don't you think?" After giving him another kick and spit on his face.
"I don't have a lot of time! What will you choose?" The messenger didn't even try to hide his grin now. He was embracing it fully.
The husband sobbing silently in front of his wife.
Beside him, another man, one with no one to help him out, watched the couple, thoughts crossing his mind.
'They would have made a happy couple... Sadly, I don't think I'll ever find someone like her.'
Then, a different voices echoed in his head.
Voice of Heroism: Come on, man! You know what you have to do!
Voice of Realism: B-but… I… don't… w-want to d-die!
Voice of Heroism: Look at yourself! You've wasted your life being useless! This is your one chance to be a hero! You're going to die anyway so why not make it count?
A deep breath. A moment to clear his mind.
'Yeah… You're right. I'm going to die anyway. At least let me die a hero rather than a coward!'
The messenger barely spared him a glance, dismissing the trembling man as unimportant.
His focus was on the husband and his wife. But the next instant, his decision was a mistake.
"DON'T DO IT! LIVE AND FIND SOMEONE ELSE! WE'RE BOTH AS GOOD AS DEAD! IF YOU DO THIS, YOU WON'T EVEN BE CONSIDERED HUMAN ANYMORE!"
His desperate shout cut through the tense air.
The messenger scowled, furious that he had not silenced him sooner.
With a snap of his fingers, he ordered the guards to execute the man immediately.
A sword flashed downward. A sharp gasp.
Blood spilled onto the ground even his eyes spilling blood.
The crowd appreciated his noble sacrifice.
Meanwhile, the husband, his face pale, his body shaking, vomited onto the ground.
"Honey! Don't listen to what that bastard said. PLEASE, SAVE ME! I don't want to die! I'll still love you, even if you do the roundtable dance! Just....just please, save your husband!"
A wave of disgust rippled through the crowd. The messenger, however, grinned in satisfaction.
"See?" He gestured toward the pitiful man. "If you don't save him, he'll be following the other one soon enough."
The husband sat there, waiting. But his wife didn't move. She simply stood there, trembling.
The crowd, watching in silence, hoped she would cut ties with his husband and one day.
she would find someone more deserving. Someone more like the man who had chosen to die as a hero.
When his wife remained motionless, the husband's panic turned into rage.
He bit his lip until blood dripped down his chin. "You useless horse shit!" he screamed, spit flying.
"STAND THERE AND WATCH ME DIE? HELP ME, YOU WORTHLESS SLUT! IT'S JUST A DANCE WHO CARES?!"
He didn't notice her on her knees, tears falling on the dusty ground.
The messenger's patience snapped. In one fluid motion, he snatched the soldier's sword and swung.
*Splash* *thud* *thud*
The husband's head rolled from his shoulders, hitting the ground with a wet thud before rolling toward the crowd.
Gasps erupted as it came to rest at the wife's feet, his dead eyes staring up at her.
She scrambled backward, a raw scream tearing her throat.
The wife run off quickly as possible still tears running to her eyes.
The messenger and the soldiers were still at the center of the town.
After people left, the messenger pinched his nose.
Kicking the bodies one more time. "throw these bodies to the hounds, their commoner blood is ruining my nose!"
One of the soldiers came close to the messenger "we found her house, we are ready when you are!"
The soldiers were packing up as the civilians saw them leave the town. Everyone sight in relief.
Soon night fell on the town. The children were sleeping peacefully while the adults were thinking how to pay off the new tax.