Darren Shan - The Thin Executioner

For:

Jebel Rums beloved

OBE (Order of the Bloody Entrails):

the country of Jordan, which inspired much of this books setting and plot, and whose landmarks provided the names of all the characters (with three exceptions) and places

Stella Paskins honed the editorial blade for the final time.

The Um Little put their heads on the chopping block next to mine, as always.

The executioner swung his axethwack! and another head went rolling into the dust. There was a loud cheer. Rashed Rum was the greatest executioner Wadi had ever seen, and he always drew a large crowd, even after thirty years.

Five executions were scheduled for that morning. Rashed had just finished off the third and was cleaning his blade. In the crowd his youngest son, Jebel, was more interested in the high maid, Debbat Alg, than his father.

To Jebel, Debbat Alg was the most beautiful girl in Wadi. She was the same height as him, slim and curvy, with long legs, even longer hair, dazzling brown eyes, and teeth so white they might have been carved from shards of the moon. Her skin was a delicious dark brown color. She always wore a long dress, usually with a slit down the left to show off her legs. Her blouses were normally cropped and close-fitting, revealing much of her smooth stomach.

Rashed Rum tested his blade, then stepped forward. He nodded at the guards, and they led the fourth criminal a female slave whod struck her mistress to the platform at the center of the square. Jebel slid up next to Debbat and her servant, Bastina.

I bet shell need two blows, he said.

Debbat shot him an icy glance. Betting against your father? she sniffed.

No, Jebel said. But I think shell try to wriggle free. Slaves have no honor. They always squirm.

Not this one, Debbat said. She has spirit. But if you want to risk a bet

I do, Jebel grinned.

What stakes? Debbat asked.

A kiss? It was out of Jebels mouth before he knew hed said it.

Debbat laughed. I could have you whipped for suggesting that.

Youre just afraid youd lose, Jebel retorted.

Debbats eyes sparkled at the thought of having Jebel punished. But then she caught sight of JAn, Jebels eldest brother, handing his father a drink. Debbat would have welcomed a kiss from JAn, and he knew it, but so far hed shown no interest in her. Perhaps he thought he had no competition, that he could claim her in his own sweet time. It might be good to give him a little scare.

Very well, Debbat said, startling both Jebel and Bastina. A kiss if you win. If you lose, you have to kiss Bastina.

Mistress! Bastina objected.

Be quiet, Bas! snapped Debbat.

Bastina pouted, but she couldnt argue. She wasnt a slave, but she had pledged herself to serve the high family, so she had to obey Debbats commands.

Bet accepted, Jebel said happily. Bastina had a sour, pinched face, and her skin wasnt anywhere near as dark as Debbats her mother had come from a line of slaves from another country but even if he lost and had to kiss her, it would be better than a whipping.

On the platform the female slave was motionless, her neck resting snugly in the curve of the executioners block, hands tied behind her back. Her blouse and dress had been removed. She would leave this world as vulnerable as when she had entered it, as did everyone when they were executed. When the wise and merciless judges of the nation of Abu Aineh found you guilty of a crime, you were stripped of everything that had once defined who you were your wealth, your clothing, your dignity, and finally your head.

Rashed Rum drank deeply. Refreshed, he wiped his hands on his knee-length bloodstained tunic, took hold of his long-handled axe, stepped up to the block, and laid the blade on the slaves neck to mark his spot. His eyes narrowed and he breathed softly. Then he drew the axe back and swept it around and down, cutting clean through the womans neck.

The slaves head hit the base of the platform and bounced off into the crowd. The children nearest the front yelled with excitement and fought for the head, then fled with it, kicking it down the street. The heads of um Wadi or Um Aineh were treated with respect and buried along with their bodies, but slaves were worthless. Their bones were fed to dogs.

Debbat faced Jebel Rum and smiled smugly.

Jebel shrugged. She must have frozen with fear.

I hope you dont freeze when you kiss Bas, Debbat laughed.

Bastina was crying. It wasnt because she had to kiss Jebel he wasnt that ugly. She always cried at executions. She had a soft heart, and her mother had told her many stories when she was growing up, of their ancestors and how they had suffered. Bastina couldnt think of these people as criminals who had no right to life anymore. She identified with them and always wondered about their families, how their husbands or wives might feel, how their children would survive without them.

Come on, then, Jebel said, taking hold of the weeping girls jaw and tilting her head back. He wiped away the worst of her tears, then quickly kissed her. She was still crying when he released her and he made a face. Ive never seen anyone else cry when a persons executed.

Its horrible, Bastina moaned. So brutal

She was fairly judged, said Jebel. She broke the law, so she cant complain.

Bastina shook her head but said nothing more. She knew that the woman had committed a crime, that a judge had heard the case against her and found her guilty. A slave had no automatic right to a hearing her mistress could have killed her on the spot but she had been afforded the ear of the courts and had been judged the same as a free Um Aineh. By all of their standards, it was legal and fair. Yet still Bastina shuddered when she thought about how the woman had died.

Why arent you muscular like your brothers? Debbat asked out of the blue, squeezing Jebels bony arm. Youre as thin as an Um Kheshabah.

Im a late developer, Jebel snapped, tearing his arm free and flushing angrily. JAl was the same when he was my age, and JAn wasnt much bigger.

Nonsense, Debbat snorted. I remember what they looked like. Youll never be strong like them.

Jebel bristled, but the high maid had spoken truly. He was the runt of the Rum litter. His mother had died giving birth to him, which boded well for his future. Rashed Rum thought he had a tiny monster on his hands, one who would grow up to be a fierce warrior. But Jebel never lived up to his early promise. Hed always been shorter and skinnier than other boys his age.

Jebel doesnt need to be big, Bastina said, sticking up for her friend her mother had been his nurse, so they had grown up together. Hes clever. Hes going to be a teacher or a judge.

Shut up! Jebel barked furiously. Abu Aineh was a nation where warriors were prized above all others. Very few boys dreamt of growing up to be a teacher.

Youd be a good judge, Bastina said. You wouldnt be cruel.

Judges arent cruel, said Debbat, rolling her eyes. They simply punish the guilty. Wed be no better than the Um Safafaha without them.

Thats right, Jebel said. Not that Im going to become one, he added with a dark glare at Bastina. Im going to be a warrior. Ill fight for the high lord.

You? One of my fathers guards? Debbat frowned. Youre too thin. Only the strongest um Wadi serve the high lord.

You dont know anything about it, Jebel huffed. Youre just a girl. You

Rashed Rum stepped forward, and Jebel fell silent along with the rest of the crowd. The days final criminal was led to the platform, an elderly man who had stolen food from a stall. He was an um Wadi, but he behaved like a slave, weeping and begging for mercy. He made Jebel feel ashamed. People booed, but Rashed Rums expression didnt flicker. They were all the same to him, the brave and the cowardly, the high and the low, the just and the wicked. It wasnt an executioners place to stand in judgment, just to cut off heads.