The Last Supper (Part 4) - Act XIII
Four
More and more people gathered around. Yubi gripped Margot's wrist tightly, afraid she would get lost in the crowd. The girl was so startled that she spilled the sugarcane juice she was drinking on the ground. Fortunately, both of them wore simple, oriental headscarves, so they didn't attract attention or arouse suspicion.
“…Let’s go.” Margot, her legs weak, tugged at Yubi’s sleeve. “This has nothing to do with us.”
“No.” Yubi pulled her to stand under an olive tree. “This is my territory. I want to see for myself.”
He scanned his surroundings, looking at everyone—no one objected to the woman's execution. Were they really the same friendly merchants and witty poets who had just spoken with Margot? Were all those smiles and kindness fake? Yubi couldn't figure out where their hearts were headed, only vaguely feeling that people were like stalks of straw in the wind, showing only the side they were meant to show.
“You cannot judge me!” the woman wearing the cross necklace argued through gritted teeth. “The city lord’s court has already made its decision, taking in my child. I am now a Christian!”
“You know perfectly well that apostates are sentenced to death,” the Imam rebuked angrily. “This is not decided by the courts of foreign Christians; it has always had its own laws, those of God!”
“If you repent now, it’s not too late,” a voice rang out from the crowd. “The Lord accepts those who have strayed but have found their way back!”
"Repent!" someone said compassionately. "Why would you convert and apostate?"
“If the Lord is the only true God, why did He allow the Holy City to fall? Why did He cause my husband to die on the battlefield? Why did He make you inferior and force you to pay more taxes?” The woman struggled in his hands. “Is this how the Lord treats His believers, enslaving them and subjecting them to shame and defeat?”
“That’s God punishing us!” another voice cried from the crowd. “It’s because of impious people like you!”
“That is the Lord testing us!” a new voice rang out. “Only those who have undergone such a test can prove their piety!”
"May you say the same when you complain about taxes and making a living. My Imam, my revered teacher, may you find solace even under the Templars' blades." The woman stared with bloodshot eyes, her heart ashen. "You are all hypocrites. You smile at the lords and grovel before foreign invaders. Who doesn't boast of their association with pagan merchants, hiding Western gold coins in their most prized chests? Who doesn't urge their children to learn foreign languages, hoping they can lead the way for Christians? You are all hypocrites, only I see through it all, open and honest, while hypocrites feel like they're being pricked by these things. Jealousy and resentment burn you like flames, forcing you to shed your hypocritical cloaks and descend naked into hell. Ah, seeing your anxious and resentful appearance only proves that I have never been wrong, never sinned!"
"So that's how it is," Yubi thought, hiding in the shade of the tree. He finally understood why some people would rather abandon their tribe—and a sudden chill ran down his spine as he wondered why these people hadn't all converted as the woman had suggested. If that were the case, Schumer's ledgers, which collected poll taxes specifically from heretics, would be completely depleted—Yubi was perplexed. As a lord, should he support or not support the conversion?
Instead of being persuaded by her words, the crowd was ignited by even stronger anger, turning into a sea of flames. "Traitor, your heart is filled with money, devoid of any faith, any truth, or any gratitude towards your fellow countrymen!" The Imam grabbed her hair, questioning her amidst the rising and falling curses, "You actually think that converting to Christianity makes you a Christian, and that other Christians will treat you like them?"
“The bishop baptized me, and the lord took my child away.” The woman smiled coldly. “No matter how you or how others regard me, I am a Christian. You cannot execute a Christian in a [redacted] court.”
“I am the Imam here, and I have the authority! If I couldn’t, the knight in the cross would have come to your rescue long ago!”
The knight in the cross, Yubi stared wide-eyed. Yakov always said he patrolled the territory, but where was he now? Why hadn't he brought his men to disperse this horrible court? He saw two men dragging a white cloth bag, forcibly covering a woman. A living person's face and body were covered by the cloth, as if the screams and struggles trapped within were no longer human. That writhing thing, neither human nor not human, was pushed into the pit, and the men picked up shovels—Margot turned her head away in fright, covering her eyes.
"They're going to bury people alive!" she pleaded. "Sir, let's go, I can't bear to watch!"
“…I’m waiting for Yakov.” Yubi stared intently at the horrific scene. “He said he’d patrol the market. He’ll definitely come!”
“Why should he care about these things, sir!” Margot tugged at Yubi’s wrist again and again. “What does it have to do with him, or us, if the Christians execute their apostates?”
“But since that person has converted to Christ, shouldn’t she be protected?” Yubi frowned. “If she isn’t protected, why did the bishop encourage her to convert and baptize her?”
"The fact that someone converts to another faith proves their own lack of piety! Who knows when she might convert to something else again!"
"Isn't it said that only free belief is true belief? Who can decide what they are born to believe in?"
"But she wasn't doing it for faith and truth; she was doing it for money and a living!"
"Is it only the strong who are allowed to convert to the faith of the weak who are free, while the weak who convert to the faith of the strong must be condemned?" Yubi's words were filled with incomprehension and anger. "Among Christians are illiterate farmers who have never read the Bible in their lives. Yet no one ever says they don't understand faith and truth, or that they are not devout!"
Margot was so anxious that beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, and her tongue was tied in knots, unable to speak. Yubi sighed softly and quietly comforted her. "...Yakov will definitely come, don't worry." He glanced at the pit that was being filled in more and more tightly, "You see, they're not burying her alive, there's still half of her body sticking out of the ground."
As soon as he finished speaking, the girl before him instantly lost all color, her once rosy cheeks turning deathly pale. "My lord, please, I don't want to see this," Margot pleaded, her lips trembling. "This is stoning."
"Stone punishment?"
"They're going to stone her to death," the girl said, pointing to the area around the torch that was shrouded in smoke.
Yubi followed the direction of her finger and saw the neatly arranged pile of stones beside the firelight. Each stone was carefully chosen, roughly the same size, and gleamed white in the sun. A crowd was gathering there, each person indignantly grabbing a few stones and clutching them to their arms, as if the more stones they held, the more devout they were.
“…I’m sorry, Margot.” Yubi raised her sleeve to cover her eyes. “This is my city, and I must wait for my knight.”
As the first stone was thrown from the Imam's hand, the woman in the white sack let out a piercing scream—the stone missed her, but the sound of it hitting the ground was enough to terrify her. "Jesus Christ!" she cried, turning her head away in an unseen direction, "Save me!"
The traitor's prayer to the other god prompted the crowd to hurle a second stone—this time it struck. The stone seemed to hit her skull with a dull thud, but no blood flowed, and it didn't seem to hurt much. "My child!" the person in the bag still had the strength to shout, "My child will no longer be among you!"
Yubi wondered, how many stones would it take to complete this long execution? The longer it dragged on, the more the prisoner, whether pitiful or hateful, would suffer, and the more time Yakov would have. He waited in the sweltering heat, hoping, "Come quickly, knight with the cross on his body!" What a barbaric and cruel punishment! Not only did the condemned suffer, but everyone else shared the guilt, allowing cruelty to grow in their hearts—yet this punishment was also incredibly ingenious: what was so terrible about throwing a few stones at someone? Who would know which stone killed her, who was the real executioner?
Margot's eyes were tightly closed beneath his sleeve. With each thud of a stone falling, the girl shivered uncontrollably, as if the stone were hitting her, almost making her jump. The third and fourth stones were thrown, and a drop of bright red blood seeped through the fabric, stinging Yubi's eyes but fueling the crowd's frenzy. He lost count of how many stones were thrown to the center next, and Margot's shoulders trembled uncontrollably, tears soaking his sleeve.
"You're so cruel... Couldn't you save her?" The girl dared not cry too loudly. "I hate you so much..."
How could he save her? Yubi stood there, stunned, watching the dust rise in the sun, realizing his hands had never felt so powerless. He remembered how, in the arena and on the battlefield, he could use godlike power to turn Yakov into an invincible warrior. But how could he heal the wounds of one woman, let alone the hearts of others? What made people like this—weakness or discord, narrow-mindedness or stupidity? Were their anger and violence sinful? If Yakov were here, could he command him to imprison everyone for this sin? Could he turn them all into blood slaves?
“…I’m just a city lord.” Yubi lowered his head numbly. “I can’t do anything.”
"Since you're powerless to do anything, why do you insist on watching!" Margot berated him. "You could have simply walked away, you could have closed your eyes and pretended you knew nothing about these things!"
Yubi couldn't answer her, but she still stared intently at the terrifying scene. There were too many people throwing stones; the chaotic clatter and vehement shouts drowned out the screams. More and more red rubble appeared on the white bag, gradually filling every gap. It spread to the pale ground, then slowly solidified into a nauseating, lifeless blackish-purple, like a sack filled with rotting flesh leaking its juices—the punishment was more efficient than Yubi had imagined; the woman soon stopped dodging and struggling, but the stones thrown at her didn't stop.
A desperate, acrid smell of blood filled the air, causing Yubi excruciating pain. The crowd threw all their stones at the corpse, waiting for the Imam to reveal his find—the object under the sack was unrecognizable, a mangled mess of flesh and hair. They cheered at the traitor's miserable end.
"God is great!" everyone exclaimed from the bottom of their hearts.
"...Your knight never came." Margot wiped away her tears in his arms. "What's the use of your stubbornness? He's just as incompetent as you!"
“His incompetence must have caused him a hundred or a thousand times more pain than I have.” Yubi stared as people dug the limp body out of the pit. “He was the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”
“You’re dreaming!” Margot shoved him away angrily. “Who knows where he’s having fun and relaxing!”
As the crowd began to disperse, Yubi retreated a few steps in disappointment, following Margot's direction. Just then, he heard the sound of horses' hooves echoing from the sandy hills, rapid and decisive, indistinctly approaching—the leisurely dispersing crowd erupted into chaos, dropping their prayer lamps and scattering for cover. Like the devil extending two dark hands, the narrow market streets descended into chaos from the source of the sound, as fleeing people surged toward the execution ground.
They spoke a word that had the same pronunciation in Latin, French, and Arabic. "The Templars!" Yubi heard them warn their compatriots, "The Templars are coming!"
The vampire turned around in surprise, searching for the mark in the crowd—the engraved shape quickly appeared in his ever-bright vision, and the blood-dripping fang-like totem was riding towards him on horseback.
The iron hooves trampled right up to him. The knights in their crosses didn't notice him at all, but led their men in a brutal and indifferent charge to the Imam, surrounding them. The horses' hooves overturned many stalls that hadn't been cleared away in time, smashing food and lamps to pieces on the ground, accompanied by cries of pain. Yubi, dazed, followed the swirling dust and saw that the soldiers were neatly dressed and arrayed, clearly prepared.
“Someone said you executed a Christian.” He recognized Yakov’s voice. “This is a serious overreach of authority, and I am going to arrest you.”
Imam's eyes widened, sweat glistening in the sunlight. "...I punish apostates according to God's law!" he weakly protested. "It is my right!"
“This is Christian land. Such inhumane acts are not permitted.” Yakov flicked his whip, pointing to the mangled corpse they hadn’t even had time to dig out, and directed the crowd to look at the cross necklace hanging on it. “The evidence is conclusive. According to the law, the ringleader of the lynching must be exiled, all those involved must pay double their taxes, nighttime gatherings and preaching activities are prohibited here for a year, the autonomous court is abolished, and all matters are transferred to the city of Lud for adjudication.”
Those who heard this turned and fled in panic, as if the blood-stained stones scattered on the ground had not been thrown by them. Yubi noticed that the soldiers around him did not stop them, but instead surrounded the flustered Imam and held his arms.
"What kind of law is this?" The imam's neat white beard was disheveled by the sword. "You never said I was not allowed to punish apostates, yet you only say I'm guilty after I've executed them!"
Yubi heard Yakov let out a contemptuous snort.
"Arrest him and throw him in jail! Confiscate all his property!" Yakov turned his horse around and shouted to the crowd still gathered around. "What are you all doing here? The market is closed today!"
Yubi wanted to stay, but Margo held onto his arm tightly. The two of them hid behind a huge rock, watching from afar as the Imam was locked in a prepared prison cart, pulled by horses, his wretched appearance displayed to everyone in the street.
“I misspoke.” Margot released Yubi’s cold wrist. “Your knight is more capable than you.”
"...Why?" Yubi stared blankly at the mangled corpse lying on the ground, forgotten by everyone, and asked in a daze.
“By doing this, he sacrificed one person, and this will never happen again,” Margot said, her eyes red. “He was more capable than you, more cruel and cold-blooded than you, and more evil than you.”
Yubi was speechless, unable to discern right from wrong. The nauseating smell of blood, carried by the wind and swirling with sand, reached him. Margot, pressed against the stone wall behind him, vomited violently, emptying her freshly eaten snack. As she vomited, she grabbed the blue porcelain necklace from her neck, untied it, and smashed it to pieces on the rock.
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