I could hear her coming two floors away. Mistem tended to walk on her heels in a slightly irregular pattern and that made her tread both loud and very distinct. She brought a torch with her and I lowered my eyes against the light at first.
"Paulus Monomozkak are you ready for your sentence?"
I stood. "I am at peace and ready for the punishment for my crimes."
She nodded and unslung her hammer.
Her first swing came in low, lower than I expected and I made the mistake of tightening the muscles in my leg. I felt a distinct pop when it hit in my knee and pain entered my body. I gritted my teeth. Mistem counted out the strokes. Perhaps because it was her ritual for performing justice, perhaps so she wouldn't strike too often, I wasn't sure. Her second blow caught me in the upper torso, knocking the air from my lungs and sending a wave of heat through my chest. I saw her third blow coming and made the mistake of moving my shield arm to intercept, as I would have in combat. Her blow clipped my hand hard, breaking bones and damaging fingers.
"Three."
I grunted and she swung again, clipping my other leg, sending me to the floor. The pain radiated from almost all of me and threatened to overwhelm my deprived senses. Her next blow caught me in the lower back, bruising flesh and damaging bone.
"Five."
I rolled over as best I could to face her when her next strike came in on my right arm again. The sound of her voice saying "Six." was all I knew for a few seconds. I lapsed into brief unconciousness the pain overcoming me. I came to only seconds later, in time to hear Mistem count out.
"Seven. You have paid for your crimes according to our law."
She began walking away without checking to see if I were alive or dead.
I gritted my teeth against the pain and leveraged myself onto my good arm looking at her depart. Groaning inwardly I managed to call out to her:
"Mistem..."
She turned towards me.
"You hit like a girl."
A brief smile passed across her face before she turned away. I heard her say as the darkness closed in again.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Paulus. I'll send someone to carry you to the infirmary."
I passed out again. It might have been seconds or minutes later that I opened my eyes again and saw Kogan, one of our woodcutters carrying me towards the sickbeds.
I write this now two days after the fact. I've slept off much of my fatigue and though I'll be sore and mending for some time I feel remarkably well. At least my pen hand is uninjured so I can write.