Chapter 6
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Sierra Square, the heart of Forza, was a place where five major avenues radiated outward from a central circular execution platform. Each district formed by these avenues held different facilities, such as markets, city hall, the university, churches, and a stretch of inns and public bathhouses. That entire, vast expanse was Gyeongju’s workplace.
“Candles for sale!”
Carrying Inju on her back, Gyeongju wandered among the people already gathered around the gallows, selling candles packed into her apron. They were not the beeswax candles used by nobility, but cheap candles mixed with tallow. Although they smelled foul when burning, such candles were indispensable items in the lives of commoners.
Because Gyeongju sold them for half the market price, she had quite a few regular customers who bought candles exclusively from her. Doting on the young sister on her back, they often waived the change or shared snacks bought at the market.
“Hey there!”
A woman chewing on beef jerky whistled to catch her attention. Her puffed-sleeved shirt was unbuttoned to reveal her breast. She was a gondolier, and one of Gyeongju’s regulars.
“It has been a while, Madam Gondolier.”
“Ah, it is the wheat harvest season. Hauling flour day and night is decaying my bones.”
The gondolier’s hand crept towards Gyeongju’s buttocks. Gondoliers were folk who steered small boats along the Pietro River beyond Sierra Square, hauling groceries and imported goods, but they were mostly rogues with poor hand manners.
This regular customer was no different. Yet if Gyeongju humoured her, she could obtain surplus goods for low prices, so she endured most of it.
“A young child is sleeping on my back, so keep that hand still, will you?”
“Don’t be so stiff. When will you grow up and marry me?”
“I told you to stop dreaming.”
The gondolier’s hand pried between her legs, but Gyeongju twisted her body away in annoyance.
“Honestly, what a temper. Who would take you when you are so fierce?”
“Stop talking nonsense and just tell me how many candles you need.”
A whistle blew. The execution was about to begin. Gyeongju nudged the gondolier’s arm to hurry her. The woman raised three fingers, then pulled money from her sacoche while chuckling.
“What kind of criminal is it today?”
“A Blue Claw, they say. It seems they touched the guildmaster’s safe.”
“So what’s the sentence? Beheading? Hanging? Or will they cut off her fingers?”
“Who knows? The guildmaster has a lot of pull. I reckon they will kill them…”
Blue Claw was slang for dyers, because fingernails submerged in dye always bore a bluish tint. Gyeongju pulled three candles from her apron and handed them over hastily. A circle around the execution ground had been cleared of people so that a large cross-shaped wooden post with ropes could be erected. Today’s criminal would be hanged.
“Is it not too harsh to kill someone just for touching a safe?”
“Of course. But what power do folk like us have? If they say die, we die.”
The gondolier dropped the coins into Gyeongju’s apron, then gave her backside a firm squeeze. As Gyeongju glared sharply at her, the gondolier hastily shoved two oranges into her arms. “Go on, hurry,” she winked, pushing the girl away.
“You will marry me one day, you hear?”
Instead of answering, Gyeongju spat on the ground. The gondolier laughed loudly as she turned away. Rubbing her backside which throbbed like a bruise, Gyeongju muttered vulgar curses she had picked up on the streets of Kintol.
Armed officials appeared from the avenue that led to City Hall. The crowd in the square began hurling curses toward the spot where the criminal was being dragged out. As the shackled woman approached the execution ground, the jeers and shouts of Forza citizens filled the square.
“Sister…”
Only then waking from sleep, Inju covered her ears and sniffled. Gyeongju untied the cord bound around her waist and set Inju on the ground. Quickly peeling the skin of the orange thrust upon her by the gondolier, she handed it to her sister.
“Wow, where did you get this?”
As if she had never cried, Inju’s face brightened at the fresh citrus scent. She popped a segment that seemed a bit large into her mouth. Chewing faster than she could swallow, orange juice dripped from the corners of her small lips. Gyeongju watched with a pleased expression as her younger sister greedily devoured the orange.
“Are you not eating, Sister?”
“We have one more.”
“Really?”
“Yes, so Inju can eat all of that.”
“I shall leave a few segments to give to Otto.”
As Inju tucked three or four remaining orange segments into her sleeve, a blonde child who looked like trouble came bounding toward the sisters.
“There she comes. She truly has the luck of the devil when it comes to food.”
“Ah, Otto! Over here!”
In Kintol, where children of her age were rare, Otto was Inju’s sole friend. Like a small squirrel, she sprinted over at incredible speed and threw her arms around Inju. Whispering “Lady” and nuzzling into her, Otto’s antics filled Inju’s small face with excitement.
“Why are you so late? I came out to the square early today…”
“I know, I know. I came, did I not? Always nagging after working me so hard.”
“What was that?”
Annoyed at her cheeky, Gyeongju threw the orange at Otto. She jumped up to catch the flying fruit, spun a full circle in midair, and landed lightly on her feet. Impressed by her friend’s agility, Inju applauded enthusiastically.
“Do not do useless things and just play nicely with Inju. And do not go anywhere dangerous. Understood?”
“My goodness. When have I ever let Inju get hurt?”
Otto was affectionate, but her pranks often went too far and invited trouble. Yet she was bizarrely strong for her small frame, so the vagrant factions of Kintol never provoked her. With her black eyes and blonde hair, Otto was no different from a little demon who was gentle only toward Gyeongju and her sister.
“Where do you plan to go today? When the six o’clock evening bell tolls, I shall come looking for you.”
“They say the Beguine Order is handing out sweets, so we will head over there.”
Gyeongju nodded her head in permission then kissed the crown of Inju’s head.
“Never let go of Otto’s hand and play nicely. See you later.”
Inju took the remaining orange segments from her sleeve and shoved them into her sister’s mouth. Then, taking Otto’s hand, she walked away across the square.
Gyeongju chewed the orange, squeezing her eyes shut to savour the fresh sweetness that filled her mouth, letting it melt slowly. Meanwhile, the execution official stood before the gallows and raised her voice to read the criminal’s trial verdict to the crowd. With every sentence she spoke, the onlookers hurled jeers at the criminal. Some even threw raw eggs at her in contempt.
A thick rope was looped around the criminal’s neck, but not even a scrap of fabric covered her face, so her terror-stricken expression was visible in its entirety. As spectators covered their children’s eyes, Gyeongju edged closer to the execution stage.
The executioner kicked away the chair supporting the criminal’s body. The cross-shaped timber frame wobbled, and the hanged woman’s body flopped and twitched like a fish hauled onto land. Swallowing the last of the orange, Gyeongju watched the desperate death throes as she swept her tongue over every bit of pulp that clung between her teeth.
It was sweet. As the sugar spread through her body, Gyeongju’s spirits were lifted. Like a balloon filling with air, she felt as though she could float through the square.
“Candles for sale!”
Without even watching the execution to its end, Gyeongju resumed her trade, hovering around people as they departed. A faint smile touched the corners of Gyeongju’s mouth as she swallowed sticky saliva.
Before long, the bell rang six times to mark the evening, yet the square remained bright. The convict’s corpse remained bound to the cross-shaped frame, left as a lesson to all. Summer was approaching. For the sake of public hygiene, the corpse would last no longer than two days before being incinerated.
Gyeongju shuffled through the five or six candles remaining in her apron. I knew my luck was good today. She had sold enough candles to buy a tart for Dvina and still eat her fill for three days. Untying the apron bound around her waist, she rolled it up, and clutched it in her hand. She would have to hurry to reach the Beguine Order, where Inju and Otto would be, before the sun set.
She decided to cut across the university gardens. Passing the square and following the river seemed as though it would take too long, yet she could not waste her hard-earned money on a gondola fare. She secured the contents of her apron so they would not fall, hung it around her neck, then began to run.
To avoid catching people’s eyes, she ran like the wind, slightly hunched to stay concealed behind the dense shrubs that lined the campus. Reaching the wall at the far end of the campus, she climbed a tree with overhanging branches. Climbing trees and scaling walls was child’s play for her.
She kicked off one of the branches and launched her body toward the wall, clearing it easily and landing lightly upon the soil of the forest path behind the university. Layers of fallen leaves cushioned her fall. Just as she dusted off her clothes and was about to run toward the Beguine Order—
“Hey, you there!”
A sharp shout rang out. Gyeongju stopped in her tracks but did not turn around. Suddenly it occurred to her that it could be a university caretaker chasing her for trespassing on the campus, so she bolted at full speed.
“You there, please help!”
This time the voice was closer to a scream. Gyeongju stopped running and turned to glance over her shoulder.
A carriage draped in crimson curtains was tipped on its side.
… A noble.
Gyeongju knew that the dark crimson was a color only nobles were permitted to use. Only then did she turn her body completely to search for the one who had called her. Someone was pinned beneath the tilted side of the carriage. The two black horses that should have been pulling it were calmly sniffing the autumn leaves scattered on the ground, as if nothing had happened.
Gyeongju walked toward the carriage. Helping a noble could warrant a reward worth more than she had earned selling candles all day. And should she be denied a reward, she could simply run away. Keeping a slight distance, Gyeongju slid the blade she used every morning to shave her head down into her sleeve. If push came to shove, she was prepared to slit a throat without hesitation.
“The wheel sank into the mud. It is my first time on this road, so I did not know such a bog lay here…”
