"Sir, resisting corvée labor and inciting rebellion are both grave crimes. Under the laws of White Bear Territory, they are punishable by hanging!"
As the Territory Steward, Old Albert served as the chief judicial authority whenever the Lord was absent.
Just last winter, he had passed judgment on more than a dozen cases.
A pair of serfs guilty of adultery had even been subjected to the cruelest of punishments—the "sawing execution," in which a wood saw was used to cut a living person in half.
Hanging was equally brutal, but at least it inflicted less suffering than the sawing execution.
The moment they heard they were to be hanged, the two serfs on the platform dropped to their knees.
One of them burst into tears and pleaded in a trembling voice, "Sir, we know we were wrong! We're runaway slaves from elsewhere and didn't know the laws of White Bear Territory. Please spare us this once!"
The other also cried out, "Sir, we're willing to work for you! Even if we have to toil ourselves to death, we won't complain!"
Lynn shook his head. "You only know that you're about to die."
At the same time, the shouts from the serfs below grew increasingly deafening.
"Hang them! Hang them!"
The unified roar seemed capable of shattering the night sky.
Seeing their emotions grow more and more intense, Lynn lightly raised his right hand.
That hand seemed to flip some invisible switch, and the crowd below immediately fell silent again.
Soon, an executioner from White Bear Town carried the gallows to the center of the earthen platform and placed nooses around the two serfs' necks.
The bloodstained ropes were rough and cold, like Death's tentacles clamping tightly around their throats.
The two serfs trembled violently, their faces filled with terror and