3
Ranga
Prologue
"Find it!"
So screamed the Dictator. The men there flinched in unison.
He was screaming at the General and the fifty soldiers gathered there. These men had received specialized training for their assignment. And they had failed. They'd been guarding a high security prison. The highest security prison in all of Slamina. And they'd failed. Three people had broken in and pulled off a prison break, leaving with the highest security prisoner there. The punishment for this failure must surely be death.
"M-My Lord…" stuttered the General. He was afraid. He was one of the toughest men in the Empire. And he was afraid. The General tried again.
"My Lord," the he said, his voice gaining confidence. This did not please the Dictator. "I take full responsibility for this loss and I assure you, it shall be dealt with accordingly."
"Well finally!" exclaimed the Dictator, grinning," Somebody I can punish!"
The General's breath caught. Chills crept up his spine and he began to sweat. People were known to not come back from punishment.
The General waited for the Dictator to speak. When he finally did, his fears were in no way alleviated.
"I guess I'm feeling merciful today," Oh no! thought the General, This is not good! "I suppose I won't punish you. We seem to have an… overabundance of prisoners at the moment and the… waiting list- I guess you could call it that- seem to have grown quite long lately. So I won't torture you."
"Oh, thank yo-" But the General never finished his sentence. He was cut short as the Dictator, in one swift motion, drew his sword and threw it, easily dispatching the General.
The Dictator retrieved his sword and wiped it clean on the General's clothing. As he returned to his throne, he noticed his wife, Yelena, smiling cruelly. The Dictator suppressed a shiver.
The Dictator often thought of himself as fearsome. He often thought that it was he who scared the troops so. But, in truth, it was the cruel woman beside him that often had the men fainting in fear. Those were the men unworthy to serve in the army, unworthy to live and create more cowards.
Then the Dictator addressed the troops.
"Let this be a lesson to the rest of you," he said, making his voice impassive, but making no attempt to hide the cruelty and contempt in his eyes. "I do not take kindly to criminals and traitors and least of all," he spat the next word, as if he tasted something foul. "Disloyalty. Any more failures, any more losses, and you, like the good General her," he kicked the General's cold, lifeless corpse. "will die. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"
"Yes, My Lord!" replied the troops in unison.
The Dictator continued with his speech. "SO FIND THE DRAGON! IT'S BIG, YELLOW, AND FLYING AROUND! YOU MUST BE BLIND IF YOU CANNOT SEE IT! LOOK UP YOU DIM MINDED FOOLS! AND…" the Dictator paused a moment to regain his composure. "And the next person to bring me ill news WILL BE BLIND! Now GO!"
The troops bowed and left. The Dictator sat by Yelena and waited, listening.
"Now, now…" she soothed, her voice like nails on a chalkboard.
"Shush," the Dictator silenced her. Yelena looked away darkly.
"And what, exactly, are we listening for?" she inquired impatiently after a few moments, noting the look on her husband's face. Then she heard it. The sound of fifty men screaming.
Yelena quickly figured it out. Calling the men here, a quick, whispered conversation with the executioner before calling the men. She smiled cruelly.
All at once, the screaming stopped. All was quiet. Silent as the grave thought Yelena. She smiled wider at her all too appropriate metaphor. They could not afford to have disloyal soldiers. There was no need to ask questions.
And Executioners did their job well.