Page 144 of The Gods Veiling
“Oh goodie. You can sit with me in the front row then.” He gives me a deadpan stare that I wink at.
I take the stone stairs two at a time and walk to the center seats that are directly across from the whipping post. As soon as I kick my legs up on the side and get myself comfortable, the gods from the meadow walk in with Ike.
I smirk at the dried blood under his nose, then quickly frown when I remember I’m still upset with Thayla for taking that from me.
Other than that, his shoulders tremble and his eyes are red and swollen. That’s the only evidence he cried and pleaded his whole walk here. Now the features of defeat across his face say he’s ready to just accept and get on with his punishment.
Golden-haired god and his little buddy who’s always near him take Ike from the Meadow Hands as they step to the side with Gladian. They’ll tell him the entire scope of the offense he committed, then his punishment will be decided.
“I say Gladdy will give him seven lashes,” I whisper to Creed.
“Seven is a low ball. Ten at least.”
“Really? You think he cares that much?”
“About the Veilatara? No. But I believe he enjoys punishing people, and this Veiling has had him in more vicious form than normal. He needs someone he can take it out on and get away with it.”
He has a very good point. I’m sure Gladian was ecstatic to have the upper hand on us when his Valtrue was complete. Then our little Binder stumbled out of the Gods Veil not five minutes later and fucked that all up for him.
“Defenders, I present to you Ike Molder. Up until today, he was a Meadow Hand at the Veilatara meadows. Unfortunately for him, today he lost himself to weakness. Sadly, we know Plentifuls aren’t built like we are, so when a youngling stepped on him while she was being strapped, he struck her in retaliation.”
The entire group of Defenders boo and I join in, although his little dig at my Designation doesn’t go unnoticed. He’s pandering to his masses. He knows as well as I do there are several Plentifuls that can hold their own.
I’m one of those.
I quite enjoy going rounds with the Defenders.
“He has been stripped of the right to ever enter the meadows again and the Veilatara have requested I decide his punishment. I’ll leave his new role up to the Chancellors to decide.”
I snort at his high and mighty act. He knows he has no say-so in that. Realistically, it’ll be Amick who decides what this loser will be doing for the Godsdawn next.
“Five lashes. Get him on the post and strip his shirt.”
“What?” Creed and I hiss at the same time.
I sit a little straighter in my seat. “That’s it? Are you fucking kidding me?”
Creed doesn’t answer me, but his face is twisted in as much disgust as I feel. Sure, that fucking whip hurts like a bitch, but five lashes for committing an offense that’s punishable by death is a slap in the face to the Veilatara.
Disrespectful prick.
Once the pathetic god is strung up, Gladian and his Valtrue take their spots the distance away the whip will need to travel. The four of them give Gladian his space as he wiggles his arm out and gets the handle comfortable in his grip.
His power swells around the arena center. “Five lashes.”
The once black whip sizzles as gold slithers down its length. His power embeds itself into every fiber, so it’ll intensify the damage each lashing leaves.
The crack of his practice swing booms through the air like lightning striking a tree. The deadly warning has Ike sobbing and sniffling as he mumbles under his breath.
There’s no ferocious grunt or bellow of heads-up as Gladian’s whip sails from behind him straight toward Ike’s back. It’s the most lax, less forceful swing I’ve ever seen him take and my eyebrows draw together.
Ike still shrieks in agony and blood begins to drip down the small slice of skin, but what he just received is nothing compared to what Gladian’s dealt out before.
The second swing comes just as quickly and just as pitiful.
My teeth grit together. “What the fuck is he playing at, Creed?”
“I don’t know. I obviously misjudged his mood.”
