Sonzi Darus's was scheduled to meet his end the following morning in the trade plaza at the heart of Mehis. A wooden stage had been built overnight, high enough for all to see. Sonzi stood at its center, knees against the wooden platform, wrists and ankles bound in heavy iron. His head hung low, neck bared for the blade.
Below the platform, his entire family knelt in the iron dust, from gray-haired elders to trembling children. Guards kept spears leveled at their backs, forcing them to watch as tears blurred their eyes and grief closed their throats.
A huge crowd filled the square. Merchants, smiths, miners, people who only yesterday had spoken Sonzi's name with awe and fear, now stared with a strange mix of shock and excitement. This was the man who set the ore prices, who controlled every shovel and pickaxe. He was also the one responsible for the countless friends lost in the unsafe tunnels, today felt like justice long delayed.
