Chapter 4

13:05

Rain fell in a slight drizzle, creating a haze in the air. Puddles had started to collect in the crevices of the parade ground. Sixty thousand Guardsmen were crowded into the grounds, standing at parade rest, eyes forward. Colonel Vorink glanced at the sky. Though it was past midday, not a single ray of light shone through the clouds. He looked at the wooden pole standing fifteen metres in front of the regiment and sighed. He turned to Corens. 'Well major, best get started.'

'Sir.' He stepped forwards. 'Regiment, attention!' He turned to Vorink and nodded.

Vorink took a deep breath and readied himself, 'Captain Lysend, step forward.'

The captain of Delta Artillery Company stepped to the fore and looked Vorink in the eye, daring him to continue.

Vorink walked over to him and tore off his rank insignia. 'You are relieved of company command.' He did an about-face and returned to his original position. 'For incompetence of command, resulting in the deaths of Lieutenant Volun, Sergeant Rythan, and Privates Kentath, Sythor, Keltan, and Valdinsk, and the destruction of the Wrath of Darkness, and endangering the lives of fellow Guardsmen and his superior officers, Trooper Lysend of the Celestian Tenth Heavy Armoured Regiment, Delta Artillery Company, Alpha Squadron is sentenced to thirty lashes.'

Two commissars of the Celestian PDF grabbed Lysend by the arms and forced him to the wooden pole. They turned him towards it and tied his hands to the top. One of the commissars took a whip out of his trench coat while the other tore open the back of Lysend's shirt. They looked at Vorink.

'Major Corens, relieve Commissar Tytus.'

'Sir.' Corens walked over to the commissar with the whip and took it from him. He pulled a short stick out of his pocket, leaned towards Lysend, and held it in front of his mouth. 'Bite this. It helps, I know.'

Lysend glanced at him, a faint look of fear in his eyes. He leaned forward and bit down. Corens walked behind him and unfurled the whip. He shot a glance at Vorink.

The Colonel nodded. 'Commence punishment.'

The whip cracked through the air, leaving a bloody trail on Lysend's back. He strained at the restraints and struggled not to cry out. The whip flew again, bringing Lysend to the tips of his toes in an effort to get away from the pain. Another slash and the stick fell from Lysend's mouth. Another trail of blood brought a scream from his throat. Time lost all meaning. All he knew was pain. By the end, Lysend had sunken into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness. His back wasn't much more than a bloody rag.

Vorink sighed. He hated himself for having punished Lysend with a whip. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he didn't believe in the penalty of death and hadn't had the man shot, as most other commanders would have, and then grimaced. That was no excuse. He looked at Corens. 'Cut him loose. Take him to the medicae building. See to it he's taken care of.'