But was it wrong? Having faced the point of a sword herself, she at last understood that there were things you cherished, people you cherished, that were worth doing violence for to protect. She felt strange thinking that, as though part of her had changed and become someone else.
Well maybe she had. Gabrielle pondered that for a while. It wasn’t that she wanted to see people get hurt, or to die, she decided, it was more that now she kind of understood why Xena did what she did.
Gabrielle laid there thinking about what that meant. Did she feel that way just because she loved the queen, and that made what she did all right? What if she was one of the servants who had rebelled… and now she was in the dungeons. How would she feel then?
Lousy, probably. She sighed. But she wasn’t, even though she could have been. She’d chosen a different path. The people in the dungeon also had a choice. No one had forced them to do what they did, even though she suspected that Toris had convinced them that they would be better off if they did.
Well, he’d been wrong. Sometimes life was like that. Sometimes you made bad choices and you ended up in a stinking dungeon, and sometimes you made good choices and ended up in a nice, comfortable bed with someone who loved you.
That was kind of harsh, she acknowledged, but it was also true. Sometimes you just got lucky.
Xena moved in her sleep, sliding her arms around Gabrielle and tightening her hold with a low sound of contentment.
So what would she have done if she hadn’t been lucky? Gabrielle stroked skin of the queen’s shoulder with the edge of her thumb. What if Xena had lost the battle, and it was her down in the dungeon instead of Toris and Brego’s men?
Would she have gone with Xena?
Gabrielle imagined that. She thought about what it would be like if they were in the dungeon, facing death together. “Hm.” She glanced up at Xena’s face, just as the queen’s eyes blinked open sleepily. “Oh.”
“Oh, what?” Xena asked, in a husky voice. “Oh, great gods I’m sleeping with a gorgon?”
“Oh, you’re awake.’ Gabrielle replied softly. “Now it’s a perfect morning.”
A tiny grin worked it’s way across the queen’s lips. “You actually mean that.” She remarked. “Don’t you?”
Gabrielle nodded.
Xena stroked her face, pushing bits of blond hair back out of her eyes with endearing gentleness. “Y’know, I dreamed about you last night.”
“Me?”
“Mmhm.” Xena murmured. “Just you and me, out by some lake, fishing.”
“Just us?”
“Just us.” The queen confirmed. “Summer day, butterflies… “
“Sounds perfect.”
“It was.” Xena glanced down and peeked under the sheets. “But this is pretty good too.” She stroked her bedmate’s bare hip. “You’re a damn nice thing to wake up to, muskrat. I’m glad you’re here.”
Gabrielle snuggled up to her and gave her a hug. “I’m glad I’m here too.” She whispered. “I’m glad I came here.”
Xena was silent for a few heartbeats. Then she returned the hug, pulling Gabrielle tight against her. “We’ve got some work to do today, muskrat.”
“I know.” Gabrielle murmured, against the skin of Xena’s neck.
“It’s a stinking road.” The queen warned. “It’s a dark road. It’s full of blood, and death.”
A moment of silence. “But you’re going down it.”
“Yes.”
Gabrielle didn’t release her hold one bit. “Then take me with you.”
Xena buried her face in Gabrielle’s hair and simply held her, lost in the grace of a commitment she never expected. This was a precious gift, and no matter her history, she knew it. Gabrielle would go where she went, and suffer what she suffered, and Xena knew in her heart that the responsibility of that rested solely on her shoulders.
Well, all right then. “C’mon.” She gave Gabrielle one final squeeze. “Come help me be the queen.”
The rising sun poured into through the windows, bringing cleansing light and chasing back the shadows into nothingness.
**
The great hall was filled to capacity. Ringing the walls were Xena’s troops, in full armor. Keeping a wary eye on them was a thick crowd of courtiers and nobles. Runners sent out on the roads had recalled them all to the stronghold and so now, at sunset of the second day after Xena had returned, they were here, and waiting.
The throne in the room was, as yet, empty. On either side of the large, ornate chair, smaller chairs had been placed, and all three were decorated in stately cloth of gold draping and fall flowers. Two soldiers stood on either side, ramrod straight, armor glistening in the light of the candles spread over the room to give it an uncommon brilliance.
The two doors in the far wall opened, and banged back against the stone. The crowd turned and fell silent, watching as yet more soldiers came in, dragging prisoners with them. Men in stripped half armor, some bloody, some bound were thrown down into a cleared space before the thrones. Behind them came the servants, frightened and sobbing, shoved to their knees behind the men of war.
The open space filled quickly, as the soldiers kept bringing more prisoners. Last of all, Toris was brought in chains, with a leather gag tied into his mouth. He had a rope around his neck, and the soldiers drag him around like a mongrel before the watching nobles before they end up forcing him to his knees at the bottom step.
Brendan entered the room from the other door. In his arms, he cradled Xena’s sword, polished to an almost painful degree and seated in its worn, leather sheath. With a quiet dignity, he slowly eased up the steps, setting the sword down on Xena’s throne reverently.
Then he circled the chair and came to stand behind it, his bearded face almost glowing with pride as he stood in that position of honor.
A sense of tense expectation now filled the room. And yet, still the huge main doors remained closed.
**
Xena chewed neatly on a pheasant leg, as she perched in the window seat watching the sun go down outside. She was alone in the antechamber, having sent Brendan out after her captain brought her in a tray from the kitchen.
Outside, the cold, crisp air was separating the light into layers of surprisingly gentle pastels, robbing the sky of the blood fire she’d expected.
Still, it was impressive. Xena watched peacefully as the rays penetrated the leaded glass, washing over her skin and tinting it with color.
She had spent the day commanding audiences as her nobles had arrived, pinning their ears to the wall and extracting the information she needed from them one by one. Now, she’d called her final court of the day, and everyone knew it was coming to the end for many of those she felt needed judging.
The door to her little refuge opened, but Xena kept her eyes on the window, knowing with a sense beyond her hearing or smell who the intruder was. “Hey, muskrat.”
Gabrielle crossed the room and came to her side. Xena turned around, looking her blond companion up and down in some surprise. “I know I threw something prettier than that at you.” She commented, prodding the shoulder of the tunic Gabrielle was wearing. “You don’t need to wear that.”
Gabrielle straightened a little inside the uniform. “I know.” She agreed softly. “But I wanted to wear it.” She touched the hawk’s head on her chest. “It kind of says something about who I am.”
One of Xena’s dark eyebrows cocked upward. “An adorable, sexy blond thing with terrible taste in clothing?”
Gabrielle glanced down and smiled.
“Okay.” Xena reached over and offered her a fruit stuffed confection from her goodie tray. “Here.” She waited for the tidbit to be taken from her fingers by a set of neat white teeth. Picking up a cup from the tray she took a swallow of rich, white wine, then held the goblet to Gabrielle’s lips. “Now. Let’s go take care of business.”
Gabrielle lifted her hand to wipe her lips, but was forestalled by the queen leaning over and removing the droplets of wine for her in a very thorough and intense way. She let her hand fall to rest on Xena’s thigh, feeling the strength of it under the heavy fabric of her regal robes.
They broke apart at last and looked at each other. Xena held her hand out, and eased up from her seat, starting towards the doors to her great hall. She kept hold of Gabrielle’s fingers even as they reached the doors, and with a grand gesture, the guard flung them open.
Bang. Bang. Bang. The seneschal slammed his staff against the marble. “All kneel for Xena the Merciless!”
Xena stood stock still, only her icy eyes sweeping the crowd as they did the seneschal’s bidding, hastily dropping to their knees regardless of their fine dress. By the foot of the dias, the Duke also knelt, bowing his head and touching his fist to his chest for good measure.
The queen waited until everyone was down. Then she strolled through the masses, Gabrielle’s hand clasped in hers as they headed for the thrones. No one met her eyes as she passed.
They mounted the stairs, passing the kneeling Duke. As Xena reached the top of the dias, she gracefully gestured Gabrielle to the right hand seat next to hers, and waited until her companion had settled in it. Then she sauntered down the steps and booted the Duke in the back, crooking her finger at him when he turned to look at her.
A little hesitantly, he rose and joined her and she towed him back up the steps and shoved him into the other seat.
Then she turned to face the crowd, and put her hands on her hips.
There was fear out there. Xena could sense it, and she absorbed the feeling of power that gave her. “I commanded you all here to get a few things straight.” She paused, to let her voice echo off the walls. “I’ve been putting up with a lot of crap lately, and I’ve had enough of it. No more.” She barked the last two words.
As she expected, no one interrupted her. In fact, no one even met her eyes. Xena began to pace, prowling across her dais in front of the thrones. “I know there are those in this room who were betting on me never coming back here.” She said. “YOU LOST!” She roared. “How MANY people have to die before you LEARN?”
She stopped, and crossed her arms, glaring at the packed room. The effect was rather lost, however, since everyone kept their head down and didn’t look at her. “Let’s find out.” She returned to her seat and drew her sword from its sheath, checking the blade carefully for nicks or carelessly left blood.
It was spotless, and razor sharp. Her eyes flicked to Brendan, and she allowed him a smile for the meticulous work, especially given the state the old thing was in when she’d given it to him. Then she turned and walked back to the edge of the platform. “Bring him.” She pointed the blade at Toris.
Her men lifted Toris to his feet and dragged him up the steps. They held him up before her and she took a moment to study his dirty, bruised face.
There was nothing but hatred in his eyes for her. Xena accepted that, understanding there was nothing in her that held anything of love for him in return. “This is the second time you’ve tried to kill me, Toris.” She remarked, almost conversationally. “The last time, I wanted to cut you up in a thousand pieces, but Ly talked me out of it.”
If he could have cursed at her, he would have. Xena could see his throat working, and his lips writhing around the gag. “I know what they’re all thinking. That I should have some mercy on you because you’re my brother.”
The crowd stirred.
“But you didn’t have any mercy on me, did you?” Xena placed the point of her sword against his gut. “You would have watched us both burn and taken your bag of dinars gladly, wouldn’t you have?”
He struggled against the guards, his eyes raking her with anger. Xena stared intently at him, trying to read anything of their commonality in all that hatred.
Abruptly, she leaned forward, grabbing his head with her free hand and pulling him close to her. She whispered a few words in his ear, then with a savage motion, shoved the blade of her sword into his chest to the hilts.
He writhed for a moment, then the motion faltered, and his knees buckled. Xena shoved him from her and yanked her sword free, motioning to the soldiers to release him as he fell to the ground.
A pool of crimson spread under him. Xena held her left hand up to the crowd, stained with the same color. Her eyes swept around the room, absorbing the horror in the faces. “That’s MY justice.” She uttered, in a harsh growl. “No one escapes it.”
She waited to let the shock penetrate them. Then she slowly lowered her hand to her side, and flipped her sword in her hand, sending a tiny spray of blood droplets to taint the marble floor. “Next.” She pointed at the first of the captive soldiers.
A pall of terror had descended on the room. Xena could hear the muffled, choked crying of the servants as they felt death stalk amongst them, and the prisoner her men lead forward was almost being dragged, his legs unable to carry him.
They reached her and she stepped up onto Toris’ body, grabbing the soldier’s chin in her blood stained hand and forcing his head up to face her.
There were tears in his eyes. He was breathing so hard and so fast it almost didn’t sound human. Xena tilted her head and gazed intently at him, watching his entire body shiver in fear at her touch.
After a moment, she turned her head to look over her shoulder. Gabrielle was sitting where she’d left her, both hands clenched in front of her mouth, and her eyes steady, but glinting with unshed tears of her own.
Xena turned back to her victim. “You surrendered.” She addressed the soldier. “Why?”
For a second, he didn’t answer, shocked at being spoken to instead of gutted. “D…” His teeth were chattering. “Didn’t wanna d..die.”
The queen pulled his head up a little higher, and laid her sword on his shoulder, it’s edge touching his neck. “We were outnumbered five to one, and you had accomplices inside the castle. You were so sure you’d lose?”
Silently, he nodded.
Xena’s long lashes flickered closed, then they opened, revealing bright, blue orbs. “Maybe you didn’t.” She released him and stepped back, lifting her sword from his neck and letting it settle to rest on her shoulder. “All right.” She addressed several of her men, standing in guard around the prisoners. “Take the ones who put their weapons down back to the barracks.”
Even her men were shocked.
“Treat em like new recruits. They sweep the floors until they prove they’re not as stupid as they look for going with Bregos in the first place.”
After a stunned pause, her men started moving, pulling the prisoners to their feet. The reprieved men wavered on their feet, scarcely able to believe they weren’t going to die. They were led out, leaving the servants alone in the guarded circle.
“Bregos will be hunted until I find him.” Xena remarked. “He won’t be needing those guys and I might.” She paused, and then she slowly sauntered down the steps and faced her last victims. Near the front were two women, holding onto each other. She stopped beside them and looked down.
They started shaking. Xena tapped them on the head with her sword. “Hey.”
Terrified, they looked up at her.
“What’d he promise you?” The queen asked.
“F.. freedom.” The older of the two whispered.
“Uh huh.” Xena examined her sword. “Death’s a kind of freedom.” She said. “Maybe he was right.”
A sudden hush fell again, a creeping fog of horror after the unexpected good luck of the soldiers. But Xena took a step back again, and addressed the seneschal. “Take them all, and kick them out of the gates.” She ordered. “They want freedom? Fine. Let em find it on the winter road.”
With that, she turned her back on them and walked back up the stairs, past Toris’ body, past the blood stains, up to the top step where her throne awaited her.
Where Gabrielle awaited her.
Xena turned and sat down, letting her sword point rest on the stone as she put her crimson stained hands squarely on the throne arms. “The queen is dead.” She uttered, in a tone half bemused, and half in wonder. She looked up as she felt a warmth cover her right hand, seeing a splash of pale skin as Gabrielle’s fingers covered hers. “Long live the queen?”
Against her will, her eyes dropped to the body lying on the stone, and she acknowledged the twinge of regret that pinched at her heart.
Ah. The price of humanity.
Somewhere in all that, Xena found something to smile about.
**
“So.” Xena was sprawled in the big chair in her chambers, one leg slung over the arm and her body covered in a rough, sleeveless blue tunic, belted at her waist. “What do you think, Gabrielle?”
Still in her tunic, Gabrielle set down the robes Xena had stripped out of and walked over to where the queen was sitting. “Think about what?” She asked.
Xena rolled her head to one side and looked at her. “Court.” She said. “Tonight.” She shifted over in the chair and patted the surface invitingly. “You’ve been quiet like a mouse since we got back here.”
“Well.” Gabrielle perched on the edge of the seat. “I was just thinking.”
“Ahh. That’s what I was afraid of.” Now that court was over, Xena found herself thinking about the future, and about what life would be like now that she had someone bound and determined to share it with her. “Hey, know what?”
“What?” Gabrielle leaned lightly against Xena.
“That door over there goes into another couple of rooms.” The queen pointed. “Get your stuff set up in there, give you some space where you can…think.” She smiled a little. “You like that?”
Gabrielle’s eyes lifted to the door, then went back to the queen’s face. “You always did find me some of my own space.” She stroked her fingers along the skin of Xena’s arm. “I never had any at home.”
“I don’t think I did either.” Xena replied in a quiet voice. “Maybe that’s why I… I remember when I picked out those rooms in the tower for myself. All that space…and Ly just wanted someplace he could put all his stuff and not have to pack it away all the time.”
“This was really your first home, wasn’t it?”
The queen was silent for a few moments, and then she nodded. “I guess it was.”
Gabrielle hitched one leg up and rested it on her knee. “I know how you feel about that.” She said. “I remember when they brought me upstairs and gave me that little cubby outside in the tower.” A faint sigh. “That was the first time I’d ever had my own bed.”
Xena laughed shortly. “These rich bastards really don’t have a clue, do they?”
“No, they really sometimes don’t.”
“So.” The queen laid her hand on Gabrielle’s knee. “You like that idea? Those rooms? They big enough? Go look.”
Gabrielle obediently got up and walked over to the door, one she hadn’t really noticed earlier. She opened it and poked her head through, peering curiously into the space beyond.
Her eyes blinked. Then she pulled her head back into the big room and looked around at Xena. The queen was leaning on the chair arm, resting her chin on her wrist and watching her. “Theres… a lot of stuff in there.”
“Uh huh.”
Slowly, Gabrielle pointed at her own chest.
“Uh huh.” Xena produced a pleased grin. She got up and came over, nudging Gabrielle through the door and into the new room. Inside, she put her hands on her bedmate’s shoulders as they both gazed around at it.
It wasn’t a huge room, but there were a lot of windows in it. Xena guessed it had been the previous queen’s solarium. She’d had a couple of comfortable carved wooden chairs brought in, with plush pillows on them near the wall of glass. On one side was a desk, piled high with parchment and quills, and next to that, a huge wardrobe with all the clothes she’d given Gabrielle, plus more.
“Oo.”
Near the back was a cozy daybed, and next to that, on either side, beautiful carved casements meant for scrolls.
Gabrielle walked to the desk and picked up a quill, it’s pure, white feathers twinkling in the candlelight. She turned towards Xena. “All this is for me?”
Xena nodded. “I figured…” She sat down on one of the chairs and looked oddly uncertain, clasping her hands between her knees. “I want you to be happy here.”
Gabrielle let her eyes wander over the space, so carefully chosen, and so thoughtfully filled for her. Then she walked over and put her arms around Xena. “I’d be happy sleeping in a basket at the foot of your bed.” She told the queen with bare honesty. “But this is wonderful. Thank you.” Gently, she kissed Xena on the cheek, and then buried her face against the queen’s neck.
Mm. Xena leaned back in the chair and pulled Gabrielle into her lap, taking her reward for a long and in many ways difficult day.
It was a day that had seen the hand of her justice. It was a day that had seen the taking back of her authority, in a way none could mistake.
A day that had seen her naming of a consort, and her public freeing of Gabrielle.
A day that had seen men crying with relief, as they scrubbed the floors of her army’s barracks.
A day that had seen women crying from despair as they were forced out the stronghold gates into the cold of a late fall night.
It was a day that had seen the death of her brother, at her own hand.
“Was it hard for you to do what you did tonight?” Gabrielle asked, softly. “To Toris, I mean?”
“No.” Xena replied, after a moment’s hesitation. “I looked into his eyes and all I saw was a hating animal looking back at me. ” She glanced down at the woman lying in her arms. “He wouldn’t have stopped trying to hurt me… hurt anything that was close to me.”
Gabrielle reached up and touched her cheek. “But you’re sad.”
Xena leaned into the pressure, living the truth of the statement. “I am.” She admitted. “It was like you said – even after all that, the bastard was still my brother.”
“Mm.” Gabrielle nestled against her.
“Ly told me…” The queen went on, unexpectedly. “He said when I… fell in love… it would change me.” She hesitated, studying Gabrielle’s face, turned up to watch her intently. “He was right. The oracle was right.”
“The oracle? But I thought he said opening your heart would destroy you.”
“Uh huh.” The queen agreed. “You destroyed me.” She watched with a gentle smile as Gabrielle’s eyes went very wide and round. “S’allright. I enjoyed it.”
“But…”
“Really, I did.” Xena leaned forward and kissed her. “I don’t know what you’re gonna make of me in the end, Gabrielle, but y’know, it’s gonna be fun finding out.”
Gabrielle looked past the leaded windows to the twinkling stars beyond. Were they winking at her? High above, a ribbon of milky white swirled through them, seeming to be a ghostly road leading to a place she hadn’t yet imagined. “Well…” She put her arms around Xena’s neck, and returned the kiss. “I’ll try not to be too tough on you.”
They both laughed.
Maybe even the stars did.
**
The End. (for now)
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
1 «Быть иль не быть, вот в чем вопрос.
Достойно ль
Души терпеть удары и щелчки
Обидчицы судьбы иль лучше встретить
С оружьем море бед и положить
Конец волненьям? Умереть. Забыться.
И все. И знать, что этот сон - предел
Сердечных мук и тысячи лишений,
Присущих телу. Это ли не цель
Желанная? Скончаться. Сном забыться.
Уснуть. И видеть сны? Вот и ответ.
Какие сны в том смертном сне приснятся,
Когда покров земного чувства снят?» (монолог Гамлета, перевод Бориса Пастернака, http://gondolier.ru/064/64klassika_1.html)
2 Капитан
Сказать по правде, мы идем отторгнуть
Местечко, не заметное ничем.
Лишь званье, что земля. Пяти дукатов
Я б не дал за участок, да и тех
Не выручить Норвегии и Польше,
Отдай они в аренду этот клад.
Гамлет
Какой полякам смысл в его защите?
Капитан
Туда уж стянут сильный гарнизон.
Гамлет
Двух тысяч душ, десятков тысяч денег
Не жалко за какой-то сена клок!
(Уильям Шекспир, «Гамлет, принц датский», перевод Бориса Пастернака, акт IV сцена IV)
3 Есть женщины в русских селеньях
С спокойною важностью лиц,
С красивою силой в движеньях,
С походкой, со взглядом цариц,-
Их разве слепой не заметит,
А зрячий о них говорит:
«Пройдет - словно солнце осветит!
Посмотрит - рублем подарит!»
<…>
По будням не любит безделья.
Зато вам ее не узнать,
Как сгонит улыбка веселья
С лица трудовую печать.
Такого сердечного смеха,
И песни, и пляски такой
За деньги не купишь. "Утеха!" -
Твердят мужики меж собой.
В игре ее конный не словит,
В беде не сробеет - спасет:
Коня на скаку остановит,
В горящую избу войдет!
(Николай Алексеевич Некрасов, «Мороз, Красный нос»)
Просто в оригинале было «handsomeness», а «handsome woman» - это женщина именно некрасовского типа. (Ю.)
4 «Выбачтэ» (правильное украинское написание: «вибачте») – «извините».
5 «Українська мова» - украинский язык.
6 Dobrze - well, right, okay, properly, all right, OK
7 Тютюн – табак по-украински.
8 Торис, судя по имени – литовец, а по-литовски Ге?тман вели?кий лито?вский - Lietuvos didysis etmonas, Ге?тман по?льный коро?нный - Karunos lauko etmonai (дана форма множественного числа), в общем – вычленяется корень /etmon/, а значит и Торис должен заменить начальное «hе-» на «э-». (литовские названия взяла через поиск по Википедии, это очень просто – Lietuviu в списке языков на соответствующую статью находишь; ни литовского, ни даже польского – не знаю, стыд мне и позор [Ю.])
9 Оригинал анекдота:
— Правда ли, что каждый советский солдат мечтает о маршальском жезле?
— Чтобы бесславно погибнуть в мирное время? http://ru.wikisource.org/wiki/1001_%D0%BF%D0%BE%D0%BB%D0%B8%D1%82%D0%B8%D1%87%D0%B5%D1%81%D0%BA%D0%B8%D0%B9_%D0%B0%D0%BD%D0%B5%D0%BA%D0%B4%D0%BE%D1%82/5.
10 «Неплохо. Беру. З.» - это на случай, если кто вдруг не понял (а если верить моей маме, попадаются и такие). Хотя я старалась сделать эту зенкину записку интуитивно понятной даже без знания украинского - и надеюсь, что это получилось. (Ю.)
11 «Коронная всегда составляла основу армии Речи Посполитой, превосходя численность литовского «компута» в 1,5 - 2,5 раза. Так, в 1655 г. штаты коронной армии составляли 18,3 тыс. коней и порций, тогда как Литве было выделено 12 тыс., а в 1683 г., когда Ян Собесский собирался в поход на помощь осажденной Вене, сейм выделил средства на содержание 36-тыс. армии в короне и 12-тыс. в Литве». (© Арсентий Красницкий (Rawicz) «История Польши», http://historia-pl.ucoz.ru/izmwrp3.htm).
12 «Питаются галки различными беспозвоночными, мышевидными грызунами, разоряют гнезда мелких птиц, едят всякую падаль, но не брезугют и растительной пищей» (http://allforchildren.ru/birds/bird32.php). И еще вот это: «Не буря соколы занесе чрезъ поля широкая; галици стады б?жать къ Дону великому» в оригинале, или еще в переводе Николая Заболоцкого:
«Прозван Гориславичем в народе,
Князь Олег пришел на Русь как ворог.
Внук Дажьбога бедствовал в походе,
Век людской в крамолах стал недолог.
И не стало жизни нам богатой,
Редко в поле выходил оратай,
Вороны над пашнями кружились,
На убитых с криками садились,
Да слетались галки на беседу,
Собираясь стаями к обеду…» - и то и другое из «Слова о полку Игореве».
13 «Засим пусть мой двуручный меч
Итье Маршан иль Жан Корню
Возьмет и носит бесперечь,
Вложив - на мой манер - в мотню.
Его я в восемь су ценю,
Но был он мною сдан в залог,
И выкупит его, я мню,
Владелец новый в должный срок».
(Франсуа Вийон, «Лэ, или малое завещание», перевод Ю.Б.Корнеева, строфа XI)
14 «Аркебузирование» (т.е. расстрел) как вид наказания предусмотрено «Артикулом воинским» Петра I (1715 год). Аркебузы как вид оружия известны с XV века.
[1] Имеется в виду наказание при помощи шпицрутенов. В октябре 1827 года на рапорте о тайном переходе двух евреев через р. Прут в нарушение карантина, в котором отмечалось, что лишь смертная казнь за нарушения карантина способна их остановить, Николай I написал:«Виновных прогнать сквозь тысячу человек 12 раз. Слава Богу, смертной казни у нас не бывало, и не мне ее вводить» (Русская Старина. 1883, декабрь http://elcocheingles.com/Memories/Texts/NikolayI/Nik_4.htm)
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