As the sun set, a group of onlookers was already crowding around the scaffold in one of the largest squares of Zaragoza.

They watched the executioner, whose tall, dark silhouette glided smoothly over the rotten boards as he prepared everything necessary. A strong rope flashed in his gloved hands, gloomy man was preparing to send someone to the Lord.

The whispers of peasants and merchants could be heard everywhere, gradually turning into a hum, but the man dressed in a black cloak and a wide-brimmed hat did not even seem to hear them.