h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Dawn brought the sounds of monks chanting their Matin Song.

Tadhg was not his usual talkative self, surely the man feared nought, not even his imminent demise?

When pressed, he simply stated he wished to die with a blade in his hands, as the Old Ways demanded.

The little square, flanked with wooden houses and stalls, was a hive of activity.

The townspeople had gathered early, jostling to find the prime spots to see the executions.

A crude platform, beneath North Gate, held the double gallows and a chopping block. Several paces away, a stake, surrounded by kindling and bundles of tinder dry branches.

Merchants hawked their wares, food stalls tempted the crowd with meats, ale, and sweet fruits.

Tadhg shuffled closer to Rulf, pulling at his shackles.

*When my time comes, little brother, take your chance and run, don't look back.

Get to the port on the Dee and seek the Sí mac Tíre, and my kinsmen. Give them my name and the name of my settlement. They will take you aboard, find my brother, he will give you shelter. I will see you again in the Great Hall!*

The five prisoners were separated and placed in stout wooden cages.

The monks attended each, chanting their gibberish, and crossing themselves enthusiastically.

The crowd shouted and jeered, throwing small stones and half-eaten food at the captives.

They hushed as Goubert took to the platform.

*By the Will of God, on Order of the King, and the Earl of Chester, Master of the Chase, on this day, the Feast of Saint Hubertus, these foul creatures have been pronounced guilty of their crimes and have duly been sentenced to death, according to Law and God's Will, may He have mercy on their damned souls, Master at Arms, carry out their punishments!*

The crowd cheered as the first prisoner was dragged up to the gallows. Cheered more as the second was made to kneel on the block, and roared as the third joined the first, and the ropes were placed around their necks.

Minutes later, more cheers and laughter as the three bodies were dragged off the platform and thrown unceremoniously onto a cart. The severed head scooped up and paraded briefly, before it too, joined the corpses.

Now the main events!

Tadhg snarled, cursing in Norse and Irish, as his guards attempted to force him towards the pyre.

Rulf held back tears as he watched his friend being tied to the stake and the torches brought forward.

How many people did this happen to, I'm thinking. And it makes me sad.

According to a documentary I watched recently, William gave confession on his death bed, apologising for the Anglo-Saxon lives he had taken by sword and starvation. His nephew later rewrote the confession!

About 200,000 souls, including the Northmen.

I believe it! I've read the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles.

'He who was earlier a powerful king, and lord of many a land, he had nothing of any land but a seven-foot measure; and he who was at times clothed with gold and with jewels, he lay then covered over with earth.'

I think it was like being ruled over by the Corleone family.

At least the old Don threw a bloody good wedding!

It was the christenings you had to watch out for.

This is grim indeed. I hope you get Rulf out!

If Ruff is the story's main character, he will probably survive. Unless November this year only has eight or nine days.

Thanks for reading, and the plot advice, but there's no character called Ruff!

Maybe that is the father of all ruffians?

Keep up the gore...

Gore? Nah, this one's a kitten!

I stand corrected. It's Rulf. My eyes were not great to beign with, and now they aren't even that hood.