The weather intervened to end Dorothy's torture, as a crack of thunder gave very short notice of a cloudburst.
It was as if Mother Nature herself wept at what was being done to Dorothy.
Those that could move scattered for shelter; Regulus was dead and past caring, so Dorothy hung out in the rain alone.
Although she knew she was near the end, the rain did revive her a little.
After the rainstorm, Melissa and Phlebas returned to stand beside Dorothy’s cross. Somehow, they just could not keep away.
They watched as she panted for the breath of life while enduring the relentless agony of the cross of death.
“She can’t last much longer,” remarked Melissa.
“No, you’re right. Less than an hour,” agreed Phlebas.
Suddenly there was the blaring of trumpets and the shout went up, “The King!”
“Oh, Gawd!” said Phlebas, “What the hell does
he want?”
“Make way for His Majesty King Pilus I of Aestria! Make way for Primus Pilus!”
Phlebas knelt, and Melissa curtsied, as Pilus dismounted and strode over to them, without sparing a glance at the crosses. Regarding the crucified flotsam and jetsam of society was beneath a king's dignity.
“Your Majesty,” they intoned. Phlebas kissed the sovereign’s ring, as was the custom, then Pilus said, “rise, Lord Phlebas. I’m slightly disappointed that you choose to crucify people on St Eulalia’s Day!”
Phlebas’ eyes widened in shock. Focussed as he had been on Dorothy’s crucifixion, he’d completely forgotten that today was the national day for commemorating Eulalia, who’d given her life on a cross at Castle Tarant for the whole nation five years before, her courage releasing the country from the grip of the evil Lord Vulcan.
He rallied. “Actually, Sire, we crucified them yesterday, one’s dead and the other nearly so.”
“Fair enough.” Pilus was in no mood to pick a fight with one of his most powerful Lords. “I come about more cheerful business. My mother, Queen Barbaria, has convinced me that I should marry. During that nasty business on Mount Tarant I was most faithfully, er, served by one of the temple priestesses, whose name is ‘Dorothy.’ I come in search of her, to make her my bride and my queen, and they tell me that she is your guest. St Eulalia’s Day seems to me an auspicious day for me to ask for her hand in marriage. I am sure that Eulalia would have approved!” He smiled. Dorothy had relieved him of his virginity, and no other woman since then had even come close to her skill in bed. Pilus was
very much looking forward to seeing her again.
Phlebas reeled. She really hadn’t been joking when she’d said she knew the king! What had he done? He stood in front of Pilus, with his mouth open, while his brain whirled to find words that would not come.
The awkward silence was broken by two words.
“Hello…..Pilus!”
Pilus spun around and finally looked at the woman on the cross. “Dorothy! Oh my God! What the…..”
She smiled weakly at him. “Goodbye…Pilus…..”
King Pilus watched, aghast, as Dorothy’s breathing slowed to a stop, and her head slumped forward, then she hung from her impaled wrists, motionless.
His Majesty turned back to Phlebas and Melissa.
The look in his eyes was one of ice-cold fury.
THE END