thecuriousone
Tribune
Chapter 3: Evacuation
The dawn arrived cloaked in grey, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the weight in my heart. The air was damp and cold, carrying with it an eerie silence that hung over the castle. Theusual bustle of the servants was subdued, their faces pale as they hurried to prepare for our departure.
The evacuation began at first light. Wagons were loaded with provisions, treasures, and anything of value that could be carried. The court ladies gathered in the great hall, dressed in sombercloaks and veils, their whispers subdued and anxious. Their fear was palpable, a mirror of my own.
I stood near the entrance, flanked by my closest advisors, watching the preparations. It all felt surreal. The castle, my home, was being abandoned. The thought struck me like a dagger to theheart. I had spent my entire life within these walls, and now I was to leave them behind, possibly forever.
“Your Highness, the wagons are ready,” said the steward, bowing low. His voice trembled, betraying his own unease.
I nodded, my face set in a mask of calm that I did not feel. “And the escort?”
“Twelve knights, fifty men at arms, Your Highness. More can not be found within the borders of the kingdom. Captain Morales assures me they are prepared as good as possible for any eventuality.”
The name of the captain—a seasoned soldier known for his loyalty—gave me some measure of comfort, though it was faint.
“Good, that’s all we have, so it has to be enough,” I replied, my voice steady. “We leave immediately.”
The procession wound its way through the castle gates and out into the countryside. We were followed by hundreds of townsfolk on foot, carrying whatever possessions they could carry. I alreadyknew that many of them would not be able to keep up with the escort. If the moors would catch up on them- may god have mercy. Our escort rode ahead and alongside the wagons, their swords and shields glinting in the weak morninglight. The ladies of the court sat huddled together in the carriages, their faces drawn and pale. I rode on horseback at the front, determined to set an example of courage, though my hands gripped the reins so tightly my knucklesached.
The roads were eerily quiet. Villages we passed through seemed deserted, their inhabitants likely fled or hiding. The air was heavy with foreboding, and every sound—a rustling branch,a bird’s call—made my heart leap.
“Your Highness,” Captain Morales said, riding up beside me. His grizzled face was grim. “We should take the western path. It’s longer, but less likely to be watched.”
I hesitated. Every delay brought the Moorish army closer to our trail. But I trusted Morales; he had served my father faithfully for decades.
“Do as you think best, Captain,” I said.
He nodded and raised a hand, signaling the column to change course.
As the day wore on, the tension among our group grew heavier. The ladies whispered among themselves, their voices barely audible over the creak of the wagons. I caught fragments of their fears:stories of the horrors inflicted by the Moors, of what would happen if we were caught. I wanted to reassure them, but how could I, when I shared their terror?
By evening, we had made camp in a secluded valley. The guards set up a perimeter, their eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement. The ladies gathered around small fires, their faceslit by the flickering flames. I joined them, sharing their meager meal of bread and cheese.
“Do you think we’ll make it to the realm of Leon, Your Highness?” one of the younger ladies asked, her voice trembling.
I hesitated, searching for words that would soothe her. “We will,” I said finally, though my own doubts lingered. “Captain Morales will see us there safely.”
She nodded, but her fear did not fade.
he attack came just before dawn.
I was jolted awake by the sound of hooves and the whistling of arrows. My heart leapt into my throat as I scrambled to my feet, the cold air biting at my skin.
“Moors!” someone screamed.
I stumbled out of my tent, the chaos around me a blur. Guards clashed with Moorish horsemen, their swords flashing in the pale light of dawn. The screams of the ladies filled the air as theywere dragged from their carriages, their struggles futile against the invaders’ strength.
“Protect the princess!” Captain Morales roared, cutting down a horseman who charged toward me.
A guard grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the forest. “This way, Your Highness!”
But we didn’t get far. A group of horsemen circled us, their curved scimitars gleaming. The guard pushed me behind him, raising his sword, but he was no match for them. They cut him downwith brutal efficiency, his blood spraying across the grass.
“Run!” he gasped with his last breath.
I turned to flee, but a hand seized my arm, yanking me back.
“No!” I screamed, struggling against my captor.
The horseman laughed, his grip like iron. “You’ll fetch a fine ransom, princess.”
By the time the attack was over, the grove was a scene of carnage. The guards lay dead, their bodies scattered among the trees. The ladies of the court were bound and huddled together, theirfaces streaked with tears. For me they locked my wrists in manacles and linked them at my back. A chain around my waist was also connected to my wrists chackles, further restricting my ability to move.
The Moorish horsemen gathered us in the center of the camp, their leader—a tall man with a cruel smile—surveying us like a hunter admiring his prey.
“No one touches the princess without my approval. For the other women: strip them,” he commanded, his voice cold and unyielding.
Gasps and cries filled the air as the soldiers obeyed. The ladies clutched at their gowns, their dignity torn away along with the fabric. They fought desperately, but they were too strong.The humiliation was overwhelming, the weight of their leering eyes unbearable. The commander made all women stand in a row naked and walked past them, inspecting them. Three of them were picked for his harem. Next he let hiscaptains pick one woman each. Lastly his quartermaster was allowed to pick select all women that were good enough to be sold at the slave market of Cordoba With tears in their eyes, they were led away. The women that werenot chosen sighed of relief, at least for the time being.
Then I saw it: a makeshift gallows, hastily constructed from thick branches of a cut down tree. My blood turned to ice as I realized their intent.
One by one, the ladies were dragged to the gallows. Their screams echoed in my ears as the nooses tightened around their necks, silencing them forever as soon as they were hoisted up. I wasparalyzed by fear, unable to look away. My stomach churned as I watched their bodies sway, lifeless and exposed.
They cot creative, being bored with hanging so many women. One of the maids was impaled, the stake forced in her vagina and then erected. She screamed and prayed until the tip emerged fromher throat again, blocking her vocal cords. Somehow she managed to get enough air past the stake to stay alive for quite some time. Another woman was tied spreadeagle between two trees. One of their foot soldiers was giventhe task of flaying her skin. Her screams were horrible to listen to, but it must have meen much worse for the unlucky girl.
Finally, it was my turn. The commander stepped towards me, inspecting my body. “I can’t spare any one with the royal bloodline. To make sure Castille will be ours forever. But wewill not kill you instantly. The king’s chest and the crown jewels are not found. You can spare yourself a lot of agony if you tell us where they are.”
“No, please,” I begged, tears streaming down my face. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just don’t—”
My pleas fell on deaf ears. They forced the noose around my neck, the rough rope scraping against my skin.
As the leader gave the signal, I felt the ground disappear beneath me.
Chapter 4: The Gallows
The world became a blur of sound and sensation as the rope tightened around my neck. My feet kicked at the empty air, searching for ground that wasn’t there. The rough fibers of the noosedug into my skin, burning like fire. I gasped for breath, but none came. The cruel laughter of the soldiers echoed in my ears, their mocking voices like jagged stones against my mind.
“She dances well, doesn’t she?” one of them jeered, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Another laughed. “A princess reduced to this. Fitting, don’t you think?”
Their words fueled a desperate surge of defiance. I wanted to claw at the rope with my chained hands, but with my hands secured at my back there was no way to twist them towards my neck. Mychest heaved, my lungs screaming for air, but the rope remained implacable, a cruel sentinel of my fate.
The edges of my vision darkened. My struggles grew weaker, my body betraying me as the strength drained away. I wanted to scream, to cry, to fight, but all I could manage were weak spasms.
Is this how it ends?
Just when I thought I could take no more, the rope slackened, and I crumpled to the ground. The impact sent jolts of pain through my body, but the air rushing into my lungs was sweeter thananything I had ever known. I coughed and gasped, each breath a painful reminder that I was still alive.
The soldiers surrounded me, their laughter continuing. I forced my head up, my vision still blurry from the lack of oxygen. The leader stood over me, his face impassive. His cold eyes gleamedwith amusement as he crouched to meet my gaze.
“Still alive, princess?” he asked, his voice low and mocking. “Perhaps you’ll reconsider cooperating now.”
Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head. “I don’t tell you anything,” I choked out, my voice raw and broken. “Please... just grant me a noble death.”
“Defiance,” he hissed, standing abruptly. He motioned to the men. “Hoist her again. Let her hang longer this time.”
“No!” My voice cracked with terror. “Please, I have the right to a clean death as a noble!”
The soldiers didn’t hesitate. They dragged me back to my feet, ignoring my desperate struggles. My legs were weak, barely able to hold me, but they forced me back toward the gallows.
The noose, still slick with my sweat and blood, was slipped over my head once more. The rough rope scratched against the already tender flesh of my neck, and I flinched at the pain.
“Perhaps this time, you’ll learn to tell us what we want to know,” the leader said with a smirk.
I opened my mouth to plead again, but the words died on my lips as the ground fell away.
The second hanging was worse. My body, already battered and weakened, had little strength left to fight. My feet twitched feebly, my struggles pathetic compared to my earlier resistance. Thepain in my throat was unbearable, a fiery ache that consumed my entire being.
The laughter of the soldiers was muffled now, distant and distorted, as if I were slipping into another world. My vision blurred, the faces of my tormentors melting into indistinct shapes.
Through the haze of pain and terror, a strange calm began to settle over me. My thoughts slowed, and I became dimly aware of my heartbeat, each thud weaker than the last.
Perhaps this is mercy, I thought dimly. An end to the suffering.
But as darkness began to claim me, I felt a jolt. The rope slackened again, and I fell to the ground with a sickening thud.
I lay there, barely conscious, as the soldiers loomed over me. My body refused to move, the world spinning around me. I wanted to scream, to cry, to beg, but I had no strength left.
The leader knelt beside me once more. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing me to look at him.
“You’re quite resilient, princess,” he said, his tone almost admiring. “But even the strongest will break eventually.” I knew that resistance was futile. “Thetreasure has been sent ahead towards Leon. The convoy was equipped to travel fast, and they had a headstart of one night. You will not be able to catch up on them.”
I had the satisfaction of seeing the disappointment in his eyes. Then he spoke the cruel, dooming words. “We have no more reason to keep you alive any longer.” He motioned to oneof his men, who approached carrying a curved blade. My heart sank as I realized what was coming next.
“No,” I whispered, the word barely audible.
The leader smirked. “Say your prayers, princess.”
The last thing I saw was the glint of the blade as it descended. Then there was nothing but darkness.
The low ranking foot soldiers in the Moorish army looked at the scene. My head was placed on a stake. A big one among them with a nasty scar on his face saw the pile of dead bodies being thrownonto a heap, and covered with firewood. A burning torch was thrown on the pyre, and soon all corpses except the princess her remains were engulfed in flames. He said to his companion, an older soldier with several teeth missing:“Those officers leave no fun for the common soldier. They take their pick and kill the rest. We did all the work, and can’t even lay our hands on a woman for ourselves. What do you think, Rashid?” His compainonshook his head. “We have one woman left, although she has no more head. I think no officer will complain if we fuck a dead princess.”
Loud cheers came from the foot soldiers after his remark as they lined up in a long cue to have a chance to sleep with a dead princess.
End
