Sam woke up in a small cramped cell her head pounding. She sat up regretting it instantly as her stomach revolted, she threw up staying still as she could until she was sure it was over before sitting back her eyes closed. She felt where the pain was coming from feeling the wetness that she guessed was blood but only a bit. Satisfied it wasn't severe but a minor head injury she opened her eyes taking stock of the cell. It was only 2 metres wide, 3 metres long, hard sand walls with an iron grate as a door. 2 guards stood either side. Sam knew they had held a large numbers of prisoners and doubted if she could escape.
Footsteps marching down the hall alerted her to guards, sure enough the cell door opened, she reacted trying to fight them for freedom taking out one but was subdued by the other 3 guards and firmly bound her hands behind her.
They half walked half dragged her from the dingy dungeons to a luxurious room, servants fanned a portly gentleman lounging on a chair guards surrounding him. Sam was dumped before him and forced into a kneading position.
"Woman you are accused of trespassing outside city walls, killing 2 members of the roman army and assaulting 3 others, how do you plead?" he asked, Sam looked up glaring at him.
"You started it you shot us first we were defending ourselves" She argued
"But yet you don't deny killing the men, or trespassing, let that be acknowledged as guilt." Sam began to protest but was kicked in the ribs and otherwise ignored. "As punishment she is to be flogged, 10 per man injured, 30 per man killed then sentenced to hang upon the cross and let nature take its course. It starts at dawn." A protesting Sam was then dragged back to her cell with the vomit still in the corner, given bread and a jug of water. Unable to relax Sam did something she rarely did prayed to some higher deity that a rescue came soon.
At day break the next morning 4 guards came in silently. Lifting her up and dragging her outside. She was stripped of her clothing, while initially she was embarrassed as soon as she saw the guard prepping the whip, the embarrassment was replaced with fear as she noticed the stone like things on the end, she knew it would bruise her and tear her apart. They lifted her arms typing her to a post; she noticed a crowd gathering, some peasants but mostly guards and sickeningly a significant number of children. Sam felt her heart breaking their innocence stolen; this was entertainment she would never complain about television again. This thought ended as she heard a crack and felt excruciating pain in her back, she caught her scream groaning and falling to the floor, the rope from her hands holding her up as the whip fell again her back, her arms and her legs all falling victim to the whip. Sam was lost in a world of jeering, pain and anger. She couldn't even count the lashes, just crying and screaming in pain.
Finally the torture ended with a kick to the ribs as the rope typing her hands was cut allowing her to slump to the floor in a pool of her blood and ripped skin. As she teased with unconsciousness the crowd started to cheer, Sam tried to listen but found it too hard. She was lifted up and then sent to the floor again. The female solider too weak to fight as she realises that is more the insult, not that the men were killed but that she is a woman warrior. She wonders how many more times her sex will hold her back and hopes dearly this is not the last, but feels inside that her death will come soon.
She refuses to cry, they won't have that victory, she refuses she will be strong, brave the solider her dad had always wanted her to be. A robe is thrown gladly for the small mercy Sam covers herself. Apparently it's against rules for a woman to walk the city streets naked, although being beaten naked is fine. Sam doesn't argue it gladly wrapping the robe round her beaten body leaning heavily against the post ready to fight whatever they throw at her next.
The crowd parts allowing a heavy beam through, carried by 2 soldiers it approaches her. Sam fights knocking another guard out before she is tied to it. Then with the encouragement of the whip she is forced to walk up the road out of the city she makes it only 2 steps before collapsing. Lying on the floor she looks to the trees hoping to see a rescue party hiding there. Nothing. She almost cries in despair. Lying on the floor the weight of the beam crushing her, this would be a quick way to die Sam thinks as her vision fades. The soldiers agree. Determined she will pay the full price they lift the beam dragging her beaten body to the cross.
Arriving at what she suspects is the place she will die she is dropped. A solider come over with nails, she knows fighting is futile but attempts it anyway as the nail is driven in. She screams as the other is hammered in now both hands are attached now to the cross. A sign is affixed, Sam strains to read it
Solider Killer
Unnamed
She finds that insulting, dying nameless on foreign fields but doesn't have time to worry as she is lifted before feeling her feet being held in place. Through the pain she attempts to struggle but by now their weak, a single nail is driven through her feet. They don't waste more than they have to. The waves of agony tear through her. She hides her cries as they all leave her.
Quickly her arms fatigue, she collapses and they cramp, deep relentless pain. Periodically she has to push on to the nail in her feet to relive the pressure and the cramp and the difficulty breathing, the cycle seems endless. Sam is alone. Even science fails her, the periodic table forgotten. An unnamed solider, unnamed and unloved. Nobody caring enough to even to ask her name. She wonders why the rescue team hasn't come. They never leave anyone behind.
Hours of this limitless pain, cycles of cramps, asphyxiation from the position, pain as she is forced to push up from her feet, her battered back rubbing against the rough wood. Up and down the timber, again and again and a new pain emerges from her chest as the pericardium fills and begins to compress the heart. She knows the end is near. The heart desperately trying to pump the thickened blood to the tissue, dehydration and blood loss not aiding this venture. The lungs desperately grasp small breaths clinging to life.
Then a sight that brings hope, armed warriors emerge from the trees. Bringing new fight to her as she desperately fight for life giving oxygen they ignore her focusing on the city, trying to avoid the gruesome sight of the crosses.
"Sir" she yells in a whisper, "Sir, here help" she can barely hear her own voice and knows that across the field her team stand no chance. All hope lost she feels the darkness, death not as scary as she thought, she embraces it. The pain fading at last.