The Rain

The Rain

It was raining when they brought the prisoner up from the dungeon. Not the gentle rain they were used to but a heavy downpour that battered down from the heavens. All was grey and blue as the light filtered through the lowering clouds. The three men paused under the shelter of the parapet and surveyed the sodden scene before them.

The soldiers glanced up at the sky, clearly not relishing the prospect of stepping out into the rain. But the prisoner was already gazing upwards with a smile on his face, as though grateful for the weather. In the far corner, a light suddenly streamed from a tower window as a curtain was drawn back. A dark shadow moved into the window and stared down at the courtyard.

“We better get movin’” said the hooded soldier with the axe, “‘Is lordship is watchin.’”

The three figures, instantly soaked by the rain. moved out towards the headman’s block standing in the centre of the courtyard. Once there, the soldiers forced the prisoner to his knees and bent him over so that his head rested on the block.

“Keep still, no questions and I won’t miss,” said the axeman. The prisoner said nothing but remained unmoving in the position they had placed him.

As the axe was raised into the air, the second soldier stepped back. There was a flash as the blade reflected the light from the tower window and then the prisoner’s head was rolling in the streaming water of the courtyard.

The soldiers hurried back into cover.

“Who was ‘e?” asked the axeman’s companion.

“I dunno,” replied the axeman. “Some enemy shaman from the southern barbarians, I think. A rainmaker...” He stopped suddenly and turned to look back at the courtyard.

The rain poured down unabated.


Word Count: 297
For Daily Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Use the words rain, block, question