The Girl With No Name Ch 02

Chapter Two -- The Dishonored Outcast

In the Grand Duchy of Upper Danubia, all accused criminals had the right to a trial. Serious offenders, people facing either the collar or the death penalty, automatically were assigned a Spokesman. Spokesmen were court employees whose duties included trying to find mitigating circumstances and exculpatory evidence for trial, and then to manage a convicted criminal's life following the trial. Officially, the Spokesman assumed custody of the criminal after conviction, and worked as their client's legal protector and mentor.

Petty criminals such as Danka always had a hearing to determine guilt and the circumstances of the crime, but did not have the right to a Spokesman. Their punishment only lasted a single day, thus in theory there wasn't much at stake, even if a person was wrongly convicted. A day of public humiliation and then release back into the custody of the family -- no big deal. The reality was much more complicated, because a person's life, especially a woman's life, often was ruined as the result of punishment for a "petty" crime. Danka knew that, with her unsympathetic family, she'd face a hostile reception after her release. She knew that her life would never be the same.

Her trial lasted five minutes. The guard dragged her before a bored local magistrate and explained her crime. Farmer Orsktackt, the trial's main witness, answered a single question; were the charges against the peasant Danka Siluckt true. He sullenly responded that they were. He was under oath, so he couldn't say anything else. As much as he wanted to complain about Danka's treatment and argue that maybe she had been punished enough and should be let go, he never got the chance. He was dismissed and that was the end of his participation in the trial. The sentence was what everyone expected: the peasant Danka Siluckt would spend the night in a holding cell and the next day would spend about eight hours on the pillory. At the end of the day she'd be released into the custody of her family.

A court scribe copied the sentence and Danka's name onto several sheets of cheap parchment. One copy would be attached to the courthouse door, one attached to the pillory in the city's plaza, and one delivered to the Siluckt household.

Guard Anníkki led Danka to the holding cell. She untied the prisoner's hands, but then chained her wrists to the wall. She smiled coldly.

"You may think you were dishonored today, but you weren't. You haven't experienced true dishonor. Tomorrow you will. I will humiliate you in a way you never imagined. I will destroy your dignity, and destroy it so thoroughly you'll never recover. So, sleep well, Danka Siluckt. Tomorrow will be the most horrid day of your life."

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Farmer Orsktackt went home feeling very disgusted with himself. He couldn't believe something as simple as dealing with the theft of some apples could turn into such a mess for both his conscience and his reputation. He now felt responsible for the peasant Danka Siluckt, since it was his complaint that got her into so much trouble. He now wished with every bit of his soul that he had never talked to his friend the councilman; that he had just dealt with Danka himself.

Protocol limited Farmer Orsktackt's options for getting the peasant Danka Siluckt out of the mess he got her into. Since he filed the charge, he could not appeal for clemency, nor in any way be perceived as trying to protect her. But he did have to help Danka if he possibly could. His perception of morality and justice had been violated by his own actions. Somehow he needed to set things straight. He went to bed with his wife, but as soon as she was asleep, he got up, went outside, and spent the night praying to the Lord-Creator for some guidance about how he should handle the following day. The only response he received was a very strong feeling that he needed to be present for the peasant Danka Siluckt's punishment and bear witness to what was about to happen to her. He received no other insight. So, the next day he rode his horse to the city gate and stabled him at the inn where Danka had sold his apples. He bought a bottle of apple cider and walked into the city. He took a look at the pillory and noted the peasant Danka Siluckt's punishment declaration. The chains swayed in the wind and two ladders leaned against the frame, in anticipation of the day's sentence.

"Lord-Creator...what have I done?"

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Danka spent a totally sleepless night. She was terrified of what would happen to her the next day, but she also was extremely uncomfortable. The welts and bruises covering her backside throbbed and made it impossible to sit. However, she couldn't stand up because the chains restraining her hands were too short. If she lay down, she couldn't bring her arms down to her sides. She was hungry, and as the night wore on, increasingly thirsty. When the next morning finally came, she was totally exhausted. She waited in terror as it got lighter and lighter outside.

Finally the cell door opened and Guard Anníkki, accompanied by two male assistants came into the room. One of the men unlocked her chains. He pulled her to her feet and held her roughly while the other tied her hands behind her back. Guard Anníkki said nothing, but her cruel smirk made it obvious that she had not forgotten her threat from last night.

"...the most horrid day of your life."

Guard Anníkki took charge of the prisoner, firmly grabbing her arm and digging her fingers into Danka's skin. Danka did not resist. Her terror had subsided into a numb depression and she was physically exhausted from the ordeal of the last 24 hours. The group exited the courthouse and emerged into Rika Heckt-nemat's main plaza. Already a crowd of curious residents had gathered near the pillory, anticipating the day's entertainment.

The guard forced Danka to get on her knees while she gave a speech that she had prepared specifically to humiliate her prisoner as much as possible. She mentioned Danka Siluckt's full name over and over. She talked about Danka's ridiculous desire to have a dress and to pretend she was something other than what she was: a dishonored menial worker.

One of the male guards pointed a crossbow to her stomach, letting her know that if she resisted, he'd shoot her and she would die an agonizing death. Danka obediently climbed up the ladder when the moment came. The guards secured her wrists and stretched her arms over her shoulders. Tears flowed down the dishonored girl's cheeks as she felt the ankle irons wrap around her legs and heard the locks click shut. She was completely exposed, with her arms spread over her head and her feet resting on small platforms a half a fathom apart. She felt the chilly morning air blowing between her spread thighs against her exposed vulva. She could feel hundreds of eyes studying her body. Against her will she listened to various comments about her appearance and had to endure a multitude of sexual jokes.

Danka said nothing as the sun rose higher and the air became much warmer. Her arms and legs started cramping from being forced to hold an uncomfortable pose for hours on end, without being able to move. She could move and flex her arms a little, but she couldn't move her feet. Increasingly her body was protesting against what she was enduring. Her back and shoulders started hurting along with her legs and arms. She thrust her head back and forth and heard the laughter of some of her spectators. She didn't care. By mid-day the cramping was so unbearable throughout her entire body that she no longer cared about the crowd watching her.

The cathedral bell announced noon and Guard Anníkki called up to her in a tone of feigned sympathy.

"Do you need a break, Danka Siluckt? Would you like something to eat? To drink? You are due a short break, you know..."

"Please Guard Anníkki..."

"Yes, poor girl. We will accommodate you."

To Danka's surprise, the male guards actually climbed the ladders and unlocked the pillory's cuffs. They actually were going to let her down for a while. The men rubbed her shoulders for a few seconds to get the circulation going in her arms. The prisoner was hugely relieved. She knew that the afternoon would be much worse, but for the moment she was on the ground and had the use of her arms and legs. She was horribly thirsty and drank a large cup of cold well-water.

Guard Anníkki waited, ready to play a horrible trick on the culprit. In her hand she held a freshly-baked bread roll. It looked like an innocuous snack, but the bread was full of strong spices that would burn Danka's mouth as soon as she bit into it. The bread was important for the guard's plan to totally humiliate the peasant Danka Siluckt and make it impossible for her to ever have a normal life in Rika Heckt-nemat, even as a dishonored day-laborer.

The guard calmly watched as Danka drank he first cup of water. She set down a large pitcher next to the cup before handing her the bread. Danka was so hungry that she took two large bites out of the roll before the burning started in her mouth. The burning quickly became unbearable and Danka instinctively reached for the pitcher. She drank cup after cup of water, desperately trying to calm the fire in her mouth and throat. She drank so much water that her stomach became stretched. As soon as the pitcher was empty, the Guard Anníkki told her companions to grab Danka's arms and force her back up the ladder. A few seconds later the culprit was restrained spread-eagle, her arms above her head and her feet resting on the two small platforms.

Now the truly horrid part of the worst day of Danka's life was about to begin. She had a pitcher of water in her stomach, water that very quickly would settle into her bladder. The pressure started building within half-an-hour of her returning to the pillory. The unhappy girl realized that she had been horribly tricked, but there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Her muscles had started to cramp again, but that discomfort was nothing compared to the agonizing pressure on her bladder. She looked down at the guard, who held up the pitcher and smiled in triumph.

At first Danka thought, that if she put every bit of effort into holding her urine, she'd be able to make it until the end of the day. However, as more and more water seeped into her bladder, she realized that wasn't going to happen. The cathedral bell struck one. It was just one o'clock. That meant she had three hours to go. No, there was no way she would make it.

The crowd watching her was much larger than it had been in the morning. 2000 residents, a tenth of the city's entire population, crowded the plaza after having finished their mid-day meal. Danka grit her teeth in a futile effort to avoid pissing in front of all those people. It was no good. The only thing she managed to do was make the rush much worse when it finally came.

Danka sobbed as a torrent of urine poured out of her and splashed on the paving stones at the base of the pillory. The flow was loud and copious, clearly visible to anyone who happened to be watching at that moment. To the Danubians, who were the most fastidious of all the Europeans when it came to that sort of thing, there was no way that Danka possibly could have disgraced herself any worse than relieving herself in front of so many spectators.

The crowd started laughing. The mocking laughter seemed to go on forever, especially when Danka lost control of herself a second time and sent another stream splashing on the pavement. When the laughter died down, the mood of the crowd quickly became much uglier, especially among the women. The spectators whistled low and hissed to express their disapproval at the dishonored criminal. A group of boys ran out the gate and in a few minutes returned with bunches of stinging nettles tied to the ends of long poles. Guard Anníkki nodded her permission and the boys began rubbing the poisonous leaves over Danka's skin, especially between her legs. As the stinging intensified, she screamed.

By the time the boys tired of tormenting the captive with the nettles, several workmen had brought in wheelbarrows full of sewage and pig manure. They positioned their disgusting cargo in front of the pillory. A group of vagrants who didn't mind getting their hands dirty picked up handfuls of the sewage and flung it at the hapless criminal. The crowd clapped and whistled their approval every time a handful of excrement hit Danka in the face. By far the worst insults came from the women standing in the crowd. How dare this filthy dishonored slut try to become one of them...how dare she...

The clock struck two. Danka's punishment still had two hours to go and the crowd was trying to think of something else that would further degrade the pathetic girl chained up in the pillory. Guard Anníkki quietly left the plaza and returned to the courthouse. Her task of ruining Danka Siluckt's life was now completed, so she saw no point in sticking around. She figured that the crowd might kill the peasant, and if they did, she didn't want to be present to take any responsibility.

Farmer Orsktackt was completely distressed over the spectacle in the plaza. Already the girl's life was ruined, but now the spectators, especially the women, had worked themselves into a frenzy. He had seen this happen a couple of times before; the darkest and ugliest side of humanity, the lynch mob. 2000 people had the chance to direct all of their anger and frustration in their lives against a single hapless target, an ignorant peasant girl who had no chance of defending herself. Tightening his lips and cursing himself for having caused the hideous affair, Farmer Orsktackt realized it was up to him to put an end to it and take custody of the criminal. He approached a trio of city guards.

"Listen! I will not have my property and my name dishonored! If you can't dispose of that criminal with dignity, then I will! Take her down, put her in a wagon, and take her to my property! I'll deal with her!"

Farmer Orsktackt did not give the guards time to rebuff him. He placed a half-silver piece in each of their hands.

"As you wish, Farmer Orsktackt."

"Yes, it's what I wish! Put that girl in a wagon without injuring her, and take her to my property!"

With their cross-bows drawn, the three guards stepped in front of the pillory. They screamed at the crowd to step back, threatening anyone who did not obey with an arrow to the chest. Bewildered and angry at the guards' sudden change of attitude, the mob pushed backward, murmuring in protest.

Danka was pitiful sight, as she hung limply in her chains and the slime from rotting garbage and sewage dribbled down her body. Her filthy hair covered her face. The guards ordered a servant to bring buckets of water and pour them over the culprit before taking her down, so they wouldn't dirty themselves too badly when they threw her into the wagon.

Danka was only partially aware of what was going on, but the cold water splashing against her body and over her head brought her back to her senses. Rough hands tightly held her arms to prevent her from falling as the guards un-cuffed her and lowered her to the ground. The guards tied her arms behind her back and dragged her towards the south gate. Her limbs were numb and she could barely move. In spite of her escort's kicks and threats, she couldn't get her legs to work. So, two guards carried her, each grabbing her by an arm and by her hair. Some of the spectators wanted to follow, but the guard covering their departure pointed a crossbow at the townsfolk and ordered them to stay back.

"We're taking her to the river! The show's over! Go home!"

The guards hoisted Danka into a cart normally used to haul pigs to market. After dumping her face-down on filthy straw and fermented manure, they tied her feet together. They concealed their cargo with a horse blanket and set out for Farmer Orsktackt's property.

Trying to avoid drawing attention, Farmer Orsktackt picked up Danka's boots and bucket while everyone else was distracted. He hid both items in a sack and followed the wagon out the gate. Then he got on his horse and rode ahead to his farm.

A few minutes later, three city guards arrived at Farmer Orsktackt's orchard in a very smelly cart carrying an equally smelly occupant. They untied the girl's wrists and ankles before dumping her on the ground. They saluted the farmer and returned to the city. The went to the same inn where Danka had sold her stolen fruit, got drunk, and invented a story about how they threw the dishonored apple thief into the Rika Chorna river. They claimed that they had killed a truly evil criminal, because the dishonored girl cried out for the Destroyer Beelzebub to save her before drowning. The men got so drunk and told their version with such convincing detail that they ended up believing it themselves.