They had found his victims tied to stones at the bottom of the pond. And so, for irony’s sake, they tied him up as tight as they could. The coarse twine made red valleys of his flesh, crisscrossing his limbs like rings on an aspen, and it was still not tight enough.
The wind was picking up. Even with all the dried blood weighing it down, the murderer’s hair was a tempest. It thrashed in the gale as if striving to escape his head.
One by one, the people came up. Each carried a kite, each string taught in the wind.
While the paladin took the kite and affixed it the condemned, the person recited their condemnation. Their tears dried in the wind.
By the time they were done, the crucifix was covered in over a hundred kites, straining at their leashes like sled dogs. The wood groaned; the murderer was silent. He was watching the sky.
And then the crowd marched down the hill, the paladin following. The condemned was alone on the hilltop with the priest.
A few words were exchanged. No one heard them, not with the wind roaring like an angry sea. No one read their lips, not with their eyes squinting against the stinging dust.
And then the priest raised his arms. The wind cracked like thunder. The trees bowed their heads. The crowd knelt, or fell. On top of the hill, they could see the unruffled priest, untouched by the hurricane.
And the crucifix, it was gone. Like a stone fired from a sling, they watched it arc out over the patchwork of pasture and farm, bleeding torn kites all the way down. When it landed in the Sinner’s Field, they could see splintered wood tossed out from the dust of the impact.
The paladin wasn’t watching. He was calming his horse down. In a couple of minutes, he would ride down to the Sinner’s Field, confirm the execution, and ensure that nothing was buried where the vultures couldn’t find it.
It didn't take long, but by the time the paladin got returned, most of the crowd had drifted away, scattered like clouds in the wind.
If No Priest Is Available
In that case, the condemned is merely thrown off a cliff. It is considered more respectable to walk off the cliff yourself, and those that request it are allowed to do so.
If no sufficiently high cliff is available, it's a journey to the nearest one.
Weaponizing the Wind
What kind of spells do you think high-level wind clerics have access to?
In the War Against Heaven, Emperor Tamerian's entire army was picked up and hurled, like chess pieces swept off a board. They found dead soldiers up to four miles away.
Of course, the Nivian elephants and horses were too large to be thrown, so the wind merely rolled and dragged them for about half a mile. Scavengers reported that their meat was quite tender, being well pulped by all the pounding and abrasion.
Emperor Tamerian's body was found on what is now called the Emperor's Hill, pierced by over a hundred swords that had been stripped from his honor guard and thrown in the tempest.
While the emperor's corpse was removed, the swords remain.