Something big was planned, he knew. Was it true that the Duke was a heretic? The city held two churches, large structures dedicated to the God Annis. The true God, the one that the priests spoke of. Everything else, the priest told him, was demon worship. Heretics and murderers worshipped demons, and the priest said that they might be hiding amongst them, pretending.
But hearing about it like a scary story and actually allowing the idea to hold credence were totally different things. What would they do to the Duke if he was a demon worshipper? What about his family?
What about Suzanne?
Petro hurried toward the town center along with the masses of people. Everyone had come out, bakers, farmers, workers. Today was turning into an auspicious day, Petro decided. He had to get there. He had to find Suzanne and set her free. He wouldn’t let them call her a demon worshipper. She was a good girl. His friend.
He rounded a bend in the road and saw the town center spread out before him. Hundreds of people were gathered, separated into two groups and with a line of knights down the center. There was a thrum as people engaged in low conversations, punctuated by the occasional shout from the guards or commoners.
To the right was a smaller group. Many of the richer folk were gathered there, as well as the Duke and his family. His household guard as well. To the left was a much larger group of commoners and poor people. The uneducated.
As Petro approached one of the knight’s came over to him. This one was older than the first two and fatter. He looked bored and tired and was carrying a clipboard.
“Name?”
“Petro,” Petro replied.
“Do you have a family name?”
“No,” he said. The Knight made a note on the clipboard.
“Do you follow Mithras?”
“Who?”
“The demon lord, Mithras,” the man replied, yawning. “Do you worship him?”
Petro shook his head. He’d never even heard of Mithras in his six years on Earth. He glanced over at the gathered groups. “Is that why…” he started to say, then trailed off. His ears went scarlet and his heart started beating faster. The knight looked down at him over the clipboard amused.
“…why they are in two groups?” the knight finished. “Yes. The ones on the left are good citizens. The ones on the right are heretics.”
“What are you going to do to them?”
The man chuckled. “The Knights are setting up The Mistress as we speak. We call her Riss.”
“Riss?” Petro asked, confused.
“The mother of our Lord Annis,” the knight said, then gently patted Petro on the shoulder. “I suggest that the next time you hear her name, you recognize it.”
Petro nodded. If she was related to the Lord of Light, then Petro had best learn about her. He didn’t want to be declared a heretic.
“Go to the left group,” the knight said, turning toward another person walking in.
Petro started toward the milling crowd, scanning faces and looking for Suzanne. He ran up and down the outside of the clustered group, shoving his way through, before realizing the truth he’d already suspected.
She wasn’t in the left group.
He didn’t dare cross over to the right group for fear they wouldn’t let him leave, but he dodged around his own side, trying to locate her. Finally, he spotted her near the front of the right cluster. He waved at her, trying to get her attention, but she didn’t seem to notice. She looked terrified and confused, but at least she wasn’t with those cruel Knights anymore.
He heard a grinding sound, followed by a series of muffled thumps. The knights and guards surrounding the citizens were pounding the butts of their spears into the ground. The last of the milling people had been brought in and separated, and now they were all surrounded on the outside by a line of Imperial Guards and Knights from the Order Annis.
