Author: Greater Myth
A man infamous for murdering and robbing countless travellers on the road in the dark of night was finally apprehended and presented before the maharaja’s court. To everyone’s surprise, the criminal readily admitted his crimes before the court so that judgement was passed without much delay. The thug was to be beheaded publicly three days hence.
Just as the guards were about to take him away, the convict fell to his knees and begged that the maharaja fulfil his two last wishes. As he wept, the culprit pleaded thus- that he be provided with a blunt axehead and a whetstone. It was his wish to be beheaded on the day of his execution by the axe that he sharpened himself. If on the day of his execution the axe was found unfit for the task, another axe may be used to carry out the deed. As a child, long before he went down the wrong path, he had dreamt of becoming a fine blacksmith in the likeness of his father. He had only learnt to sharpen the blade during his apprenticeship when he left his home, never to turn back. Before he died, he wanted to test his hand one last time. The man spoke thus and then was silent. The ministers did not know what to make of this request, but the maharaja assented. Perhaps it was the penitence that he saw in the eyes of the condemned.
The captive was provided with an axehead and a whetstone and locked in a cell underground. Two guards were stationed in front of the cell to maintain constant watch over the prisoner. One guard gave the following account of the proceeding three nights and two days- As soon as the murderer was in his cell he wasted no time but right away knelt down on the floor and began working on the axehead. But the manner in which he sharpened the edge was odd. He would rub the edge across the whetstone once and then take a long time preparing to rub it again. One would think he was a hunter patiently taking aim on a doe in the forest. Then he would bring the blade down on the whetstone in one swooping move as if letting fly an arrow. He continued doing this unceasingly, even shirking the meagre meals he was given and using most of his drinking water to wet the axehead and the whetstone. He barely slept, but kept sharpening the blade till the fateful day.
Rumours of the bandit’s strange last wish had spread across the capital. People of all walks of life thronged to the execution grounds. A great upset was expected to take place. Some speculated that the axe would be so fragile that it would break before it reached the thug’s neck. Others wondered at the scene it would create if the axe was too blunt and broke the scoundrel’s neck instead of cutting it. The clever ones remarked that the crook wouldn’t appear at all, that he had escaped by either cutting the bars or digging a tunnel. Such were the thoughts of the spectators as they gathered at the destined site.
But surely enough, the criminal soon appeared on the scaffold along with the jalaad, in whose hands was seen gleaming a broad edged axe with a stout wooden handle. That it was the same axe that the doomed had spent his last days sharpening, this was attested by the minister present to oversee the execution. Amid the cries and jeers of the crowd, the sinner was then brought to his knees and bent into position so that justice could be carried out. The minister raised his hand to quiet the crowd. And as the nervousness in the air bristled and drew highest, the man spoke thus as he continued to looked down-
“People of the land, bear witness to my first and last work of any worth! I should have become the greatest blacksmith in the world if only I had mended my ways when there was still hope. Hear me now, pursue what you have dreamt, or it shall become a nightmare and haunt you as long as you draw breath!” Here the man raised his head to the sky and shouted thus-
“Surely, it shall become an axe hanging over your head!”
He lowered his head once again. The signal was given just as the crimson sun set behind the hills, so the blackmith’s head rolled across the stage. The axe performed well.
Author: Greater Myth
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So many great fiction writers in this sphere