In the Snowstorm

Beste Fortress was shrouded in bitter wind and snow. The bone-chilling gusts whipped snowflakes against the city, already weighed down by suffering.

Nearly a hundred naked corpses hung from a crude gallows in the middle of the square. Like strings of dreadful wind chimes, they swayed stiffly and clattered together in the howling wind.

They had once been officials sent here by the Piaster Kingdom to represent Casimir's rule: tax collectors, judges, constables, and others from every level of government, along with their families. Now their finery had been stripped away, and their bodies were left on public display like discarded rubbish, exposed to the wind and snow.

An old farmer with snow-white hair and beard leaned on a cane. His only remaining leg supported his hunched frame as he stood on a makeshift platform.

His voice was hoarse and cracked. Summoning all his strength, he told the crowd below what had happened to him, snow blowing into his empty trouser leg.

"The tax collectors' men, those jackals..." He panted, every word laced with fury. "They burst into my cottage and took every bit of cheese in my home. It was what my whole family needed to get through the winter! They said it was an advance on next year's taxes."

His cracked lips trembled as he continued to shout, "But... but only a month later, they came again. They beat me with whips and dragged away my newborn calf, the one that could barely stand! They said it was for the year after next... that the taxes had to be paid early!"

His throat tightened, as though an invisible rope were choking him, but he pressed on. Pain burned in his cloudy eyes as he sobbed, "After that, they took my bull, my cow, the barley and oats I'd