With a piece of rope he trusses Diana’s feet to the cross, heels astride the stipes. Feeling that Diana’s had more pain already than she deserves, you ask him if he’s just going to tie her feet to the cross. “Not fucking likely,” he replies, “Do you think Master Jedakk will keep me on as his senior executioner if I start fannying around tying people to crosses? No, this is to hold her still while I nail her. Your job is to hang onto these ropes for all you are worth, because she’ll kick like a fucking mule when I start work.”
“I thought you usually nailed the feet to the front, are you going to nail her heels to the side?”
“Either’s fine, but this way her foot can swivel on the nail as she pushes herself up and down, so it makes a better show for the punters. It is more painful, but of course you’ve been dispensing drugged fucking wine so it doesn’t matter, does it?”
Your heart sinks, but fortunately Diana was busy moaning to herself “I’ve done nothing wrong, I’ve done nothing wrong.” So she might not realise that you’ve actually made things worse for her.
She raises her head as far as the nails will allow to see what is going to happen to her feet. For a moment she, too, thinks her feet are just going to be tied, but then she sees Jedakk’s man with another nail, and sinks back onto the cross with a groan.
Jedakk’s man hits the nail in sideways, there’s no way it can bite as deeply, and there’s just a scrunching sound as the nail goes through the bone. The cross bangs against your knee, which hurts, but you’re too busy fighting Diana, desperately trying to pull her legs away while screaming again at the top of her voice.