Author's Warning: There are depictions of blood, gore and torture.
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"Here we are. The glistening capital of Wanington." Bastian announced as he gazed at the city beyond.
Hydrangea stood next to him her eyes wide in amazement.
The city was set on a delta, the buildings stretching along the small islands, crossing over on bridges and buildings built over the rivers. The boats moved constantly about in the water and their white sails stood proudly on their tall masts.
Her breast swelled in awe, she found this place much more splendid than the capital of Waxingville had been.
The trios' eyes scanned the beautiful marble and polished stone buildings that seemed so much cleaner than Waxingville.
"Let's go." The Sovereign said. They began to walk down the slope, the sea breeze whipping their hair and clothes. The long grass at their feet swaying and brushing against their ankles.
As they reached the bottom Hydrangea swept her hair from her face and observed the bridge before them, the water flowed smoothly beneath it; small, canoe-like boats gliding along it.
They walked along the side of the stone bridge and Hydrangea couldn't help but grasp the stone railing and peer over looking down at the bluish green water. Brigitte stood next to her, the maid's hands on the railing as well.
The sun was shining down and the Hydrangea made sure to hide her faces with her dark cloak. The Sovereign was safely concealed with his shaped beard that covered his chin and jaw and his upper lip, it looked unkempt but… her pale cheeks blushed at where they had almost led.
The trio finished their trek across the bridge and began to walk across the patterned brick streets and walks. Stone flower pots lined the streets and though they were all late in season they still added a flicker of green to the pastel coloured streets.
They crossed another bridge and Bastian tensed as he hid his sword behind his coat because of a squad of soldiers passing by.
He knew that they were nearing the forum, the place where he could find news of Dimitri and his brother.
He kept his gaze low as he walked a step behind the women; he found it easier to keep an eye on things if he stood behind and not in front of them.
They passed a few of the more regal buildings, the colossal pillars standing before them signalled that they belonged to a higher status.
They walked under an arch that was detailed with words in the ancient tongue, "May We Prosper Always."
He shook his head looking down at his boots, 'Indeed.'
Finally arriving at the forum he stopped and observed the scene.
The forum was a large oval, the building at the far left was the Premier's place of business. Next to it spread an assortment of other political buildings, the courthouse, the bank, the library and record holders.
Along the right side were shops of the highest retail. In front of those shops were the traditional posts for horses and watering troughs and pumps.
The brick road was patterned in a spiral fanning out from the centre, and in the centre was a circular platform, hewn from a rock, on it were four posts, two men tied in chains between them.
Bastian stood in shock as he watched two broad shouldered men ascend the steps to the dais a whip in each of their hands.
The flower and the maid had stopped as well, he could see that the maid was horrified and had a hand over her mouth, while the flower just stared with wide eyes and parted lips.
He ushered the women closer and said that they should not be suspicious. Bastian needed to get a closer look.
As he walked slowly behind the two women he watched as a third man ascended the dais, his clothes of a finer taste than that of the previous men, the obvious punishers.
The new man stood at the front of the dais and unfurled a scroll, with the voice of a crier he announced, his voice carrying throughout the entirety of the forum, "For crimes against the government of Cadarama these men have been sentenced to forty lashes of the whip. Their crimes…"
Bastian's grip on his sword hilt tightened as he listened to the list of crimes that the Lords had made up.
"Disobedience to the throne. Apathy in justice. Failure to proceed with orders. Contempt for the throne. Disorderly conduct in court."
Bastian scoffed, none of those so called crimes called for forty lashes of the whip.
The man on the right side of the dais did not look well. His hair was dropping to cover his face, he was on his knees the tattered slacks on his legs stained with blood and other substances. The man leaned over and muttered something to the crier.
The crier bent down and listened to the unheard words of the man. The crier straitened, aghast; his hand flew to the man's face and slapped it the prisoner then raised his head laughing heartily.
No one could laugh in a time like this but his friend Dimitri. Bastian shook his head in worry as he watched the crier whisper something to the punishers and the dangerous looking men nodded.
"Fifty lashes for each man!" One of the punisher's booming voices thundered throughout the forum.
Bastian watched as Dimitri's hands gripped the chains that had dug deep into his wrists, "I'll take them all."
"Dimitri no!" The other man shouted. Dimitri's younger brother, Ariston, was in the same condition as his elder brother, his hair lengthened and his body bruised and thinned.
"Quiet, Ariston!" Dimitri shot at his brother, his dark eyes determined.
Bastian closed his eyes as he saw the punisher begin to throw the whip and flay his friends' backs. An emotion unknown to him flooded his veins and he wanted to rush the dais and kill the men with the deadly whips in their hands.
A warm hand touched the one gripping his sword, looking down he saw the flower looking up at him concerned.
"We should go." She said glancing at the platform where the screams of agony were resounding from.
His gaze hardened, "I'm not leaving them." He looked back up and saw the blood pouring from his friend's back like water from a fountain. Dimitri was miraculously still conscious, his grip on the chains so tight blood seeped from his hands as well.
Bastian saw red and the flower seemed to sense it because her grip on his hand increased and he looked down to see her watching him coldly, "I'm glad you care for your friend but…" Her grey eyes moved to glance at the soldiers surrounding the dais that he'd failed to see, "Survive and you can do more."
He looked at his friend who was now unconscious though the whip continued in it's lashes. He then saw the second punisher move to begin his attack on Ariston, the younger man gripped the chains the same as his brother had, and gritting his teeth he bore the first few lashes but soon he began to cry out in pain, the blood dripping onto the stone surface of the dais.
"Let's go." He ground out, swearing that he would rescue the two brothers.