Tears rolled down Yishak's cheek before he made the gate. He ran through and turned east, toward the sound and stopped in shock.
He looked at the impossible. Yezbeth hung from the top of the wall without clothing. Blood weeped down her inner thighs and dripped in slow beads from her toes. The skin along her arms and shoulders stretched in several steep triangular slopes where twine pierced her like stitches in a tent. The twine wound over a pole hanging from the top of the fence. One of the Jackal's banners hung above her head. Her face froze in a scream, hair tumbling over her eyes, but left her mouth exposed with those terrible drawn, colorless lips, small white teeth biting at the air in convulsions, and a tongue reeling to give shape to her sounding pain.
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