Yuri scowled as he looked down on his map. He rubbed his hooked nose as he tried to memorize the routes crisscrossing the border that his Tartars have found. His amour, although repaired and polished, now has a sad look upon it and his surroundings is not of the Palace of Vladimir but one of the forts he built in the north while preparing for war. However, standing up, he has another purpose. He crossed his arms and looked at the Tartar Chief Garzuak and his general Noskhaslav. “Whose fault is it that I have to come and save your bones?” he demanded, “I give you an entire year to train your troops, I gave you excess supplies to prevent raiding, I gave you new weapons and the cream of my personal army.” He fumed, “All I ask is Victory! What did you give me? NOTHING.”
“My men have done their best,” snapped the swarty Tartar, “They have scouted and raided as you’ve sai…”
“I’ve said nothing, Garzuak! Raid to the north I said! Pillage the Lithuanians! You turn around and burn down an orthodox church. A church I say! How can I keep my face up to the Metropolitian? I promised his skin to him, and I can’t even defend his followers!”
Silence, reigned the room as Yuri stared at his two generals. Then, the obtuse Noskhaslav picked up his incredible bulk and tried to argue.
“It is mostly Garzuaks fault! I agree with you, your highness. If they had done what your will was, then more of the towns will happily defect to our gold and protection without us needing to kill them!”
Yuri narrowed his eyes, “And you’ve grown fat over these two years. Did I order you to garrison all the towns? Did I order you to assault every fortress? No, I ordered you to push through, taking important towns under Garzuak’s screen to the Dneiper, and garrison for counterattack in the fall and winter. What did you do? You pickled and tarried, doing nothing while you and my soldiers grow fat!”
Yuri then looked at both of them. “You have betrayed your chance to serve me. You shall be killed by flaying, boiling, and be quartered for your treachery.” The two men blanched, and even the swarty Tartar turned white, “I have already appointed your successors while you waited for this conference and your most loyal followers call for your blood after hearing of your mistake.”
From the shaded back of the room, two guards grabbed Garzuak and pulled him back into the darkness before the tartar could do more than attempt to bound away. However, Noskhaslav seemed to be stuck in his chair, for the guards attempts to lift him out in a timely fashion was failing. Yuri glared at them, “Get the scum out of my sight!” he shouted. Finally, it took six of them to bind the deposed general to the chair and on the mouth (not that he needed it) and carry him away.
“These are the ones who caused your misery!” cried the executioner, after finishing the list of offenses that included treachery and disobedience “Now, we shall you a day to show them what you truly feel of them!”
There was silence. The two men were gagged and in stocks. Then, someone threw a rotten piece of cabbage. Immediately, the soldiers in the square picked up what they could to dirty the two deposed men. No mercy was given, as they all hated the generals who, from their orders and actions, led so many to their doom. The vendors left the barracks happy that day, their pouches full of gold. This repeated until all the companies vented their rage at the men, who now resembled not much more than pieces of filth that they are.
At midnight, as they were unconscious, they were taken back into the dungeons of the fort.
They woke up with their own nightmares. “No!” they pleaded. But the executioners didn’t care. Bound and trussed up, they were slowly skinned alive. Their screams reached the new council of war, chilling the new generals, warning them of the punishment for repeated failure.
The next day, their skin was presented to the crowds, who cheered.
The day after that, their naked face was paraded through the barracks.
Then after being paraded behind the staked heads, their raw, rotting body was quartered and hung over each gate.
With this show of force, the army was revitalized with fear and with joy of the death of the incompetent commanders. When the new recruits arrived next week, they were ready for a new campaign.