Beate
Magistrate
Miserable weather
What a shitty weather. It's cold and wet and a light drizzle is falling on us here on the little hill. It's too little to drink, too little to get the blood wiped off our bodies. It is simply the wrong place and the wrong time. But the henchmen don't care.They crucified me. Brutally tortured and raped me several times. Those creeps and then nailed me to the cross. There are others hanging next to me, and opposite me, sweet Helena, with whom I had such wonderful sex.
But now?
It's all over. We have been betrayed. The pain is just racing through my knees again and I see Helena twitch for the last time as she gives up her body. At last my sweet Helena no longer has to suffer.
On the other side, three men are being nailed in place and only then are the crosses lifted, placed over the holes in the stones and dropped the last 20 cm.
Yes, the three also cry out as they fall into the nails and from now on hang on the cross.
Just like me.
I look at the tormentors. They laugh at me. One has carved a phallic symbol out of a piece of wood and shows it to me. His companions say something, but I don't under-stand this language. Then the two of them urinate over the piece of wood and the carver laughs at me vilely.
He stands in front of me and puts the dripping wood against my vulva, there he pushes it into me with one strong hard thrust and I scream, scream and it goes dark around me.
The pain snaps me out of unconsciousness. Pain everywhere, my legs hurt at the ankles and my wrists were throbbing. Only now do I realise again what was going on. I am hanging from the cross. Just like some others. On a hill with a view over the stony rocks directly onto the strait. Down there lie the boats of our tormentors.
They are dragon boats and one is occupied again, it is leaving. They are on their way to our neighbouring village. They'll kill everyone there too. The other two boats are tied up. The warriors must still be somewhere. If only it weren't for this infernal pain, then I could relax. But there is no position on the cross that lets you relax.
Noises, someone is coming. No, there are several. They are coming from behind me, I don't see anyone yet, two three, they could be three men. They mumble something and come out from behind a wall.
The first two carry axes and knives and the one in the back a curved blade fixed on a staff.
They line up with the crucified opposite me. There I see Helena. Her gaze is broken. Dead she hangs there. I loved her so much and now she hangs dead in front of me.
The two in front are tampering with the men hanging from the crosses. Some are still alive. But most of them are already dead.
How long have I been hanging around here?
How did it all begin, what happened?
Before I can rummage through my thoughts, I see the guys with the knives cir-cumcising the crucified men. What do I say circumcise, they cut off their coattails and sacks. Lucky for the dead. They don't notice any more, because the young man, he's still twitching, he's still alive.
The two come to him. One of the warriors grabs the crucified man and pulls off the tail with one hand, the hanger with the other, and the second warrior slowly pulls off both and throws them into a dripping basket.
The basket, only now do I see what's inside.
Cut off cocks, I see breasts and two heads. These cruel people have no mercy at all. The cut-off cocks go in there too and the two continue to walk past me to the other end of the row. There are still people hanging there. Only now do I see that women and girls, young and old, are crucified.
Two women still seem to be alive.
Shadows fall on me.
The third with the curved knife steps in front of me. I can at least see his hairy back. He stands in front of Helena. And reaches for her breast. He cuts her breast out of her body. Oh sweet beloved, fortunately you don't have to experience this anymore. He tears off the last bit of skin like this and throws the two magnificent breasts into the basket with the other cut breasts and cocks and heads.
Now he turns to me. Oh what a nasty guy, he smiles at me and grabs my breast. I scream as he takes the knife and cuts. The pain, I can't stand it as he cuts off a breast.
My eyes go dark.
Pain drives me from the dark thoughts of the dreamless sheep. I am hanging on the cross. My breasts are cut off and something is stuck to my chest. It burns nastily, but at least no blood runs down the cuts.
I look next to me and no one hanging there seems to be alive. Everyone opposite me is dead too. Am I really the only one who survived?
That's when my thoughts come back. What had happened?
Our small village was attacked. We were only 80 inhabitants and the old and young of us were already 40. The rest of us were no danger to these bastards. We even fought back and it looked good at the beginning.
The first wave ran into our village and we warriors faced them in battle. We were good and fought bravely. I myself slew three and decapitated two with one blow. But we had rejoiced too soon. These were only the prisoners from the other raids that these barbarians had set upon us.
No wonder, we were able to defeat so many of them, they didn't want to fight, but they knew that if they didn't fight they would be slaughtered.
So we beat them and rejoiced.
But then the real enemies came and had an easy time with us. We were already tired from the fight and the barbarians had no mercy. One by one they beat us to the ground and dragged us to a meadow. There they tied us to the ground in an X and raped us women.
These barbarians did not even shy away from our old ones or from our children.
Throughout the night they attacked us. Those of the attackers who had not really fought against us were now slit open one by one and thrown into the fire with their intestines spilling out, where they burned miserably.
One of the younger ones jumped on me and went at me hard. He hit me in the face because I didn't scream and whipped me afterwards. But I didn't scream.
What a mistake.
They tied me to two tree trunks and joined them to form a big X. I was tied to it with my arms and legs. They tied my arms and legs to it. Afterwards, these barbarians came and had their way with me again. At some point my body gave up and I fainted.
But then came the really cruel part.
When I regained consciousness, they yanked me to my feet and whipped me with the other survivors from our village up into the barren rocky landscape. Up there, where the burning sun spoiled everything, they crucified us one by one.
I also saw our men there for the first time. The barbarians had beaten them and part-ly mutilated them. They were also hanging on the crosses and a few were still twitching.
But then the cruel crucifixion began.
My back was whipped bloody and my breasts were now whipped too. Every now and then I could use a moment of powerlessness. But these barbarians tore me back to the here and now again and again to torture me further. Now I also saw the man to whom we owed all this crucifying. A tall, gaunt man in a cowl. A large cross hung around his neck and he drove the barbarians to crucify us.
What kind of person was he who did that? I had never seen one of these Christians before. I had only heard from my grandfather that they were gradually entering our territory.
These barbarians were clearly displaced Vikings. Yes, I had heard about them. They had been defeated and fled. Others hired themselves out as foreign warriors and those around us had defeated us. But who had defeated the barbarians?
But it could not possibly have been directed and led by only one Christian. These barbarians would have torn him apart with ease.
Something was still not right.
Again it started to rain. This time really hard and my blood was wiped off. Finally I could also try to drink. My movements were observed by two men.
They came up to me and these two I even understood. They spoke in a dialect I had heard in one of the big cities. So these were the leaders. Yes, they looked much mo-re intelligent and they spoke, whereas the barbarians mostly just grunted.
Now they came towards me. One was a good six feet tall, the other even taller. Both in leather uniforms and with a well-groomed appearance. Were they Romans? No, they spoke differently. I had only experienced this language once before, in the marketplace. At that time we were told they were the Nordics who lived up by the se-a. They were called Frisians. Whatever Frisians were.
They came towards me and looked at me curiously and lustfully. They were about to rape me, I knew that for sure, but a loud voice behind me shouted something and the two of them took their stance.
A man in armour looked at me and took off his helmet.
"Hello Beata, you remember me, it's Thoremin. You two come here and cut off that one's head. Wash it off afterwards and deliver it to me at the tent. It will decorate my series.
With a loud laugh Thoremin turned away and continued. But the henchmen came towards me, the first one drew his sword and slashed at me. All at once it went dark. What a shitty day.
End
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