Knowing that in five months her life would change drastically made it easier to suffer the rest of her sentence. Though one could hardly call it suffering. Sure, there were days she had to spend locked up in to a tiny room in the tavern when the executioner had his duties to take care of. Sure, her own duties around the hut they shared hadn’t turned any easier, but they didn’t feel as laborious as they had felt before. The executioner was helping her when he had the time, and most importantly she wasn’t taking care of things because she had to. She was doing it for herself as much as she was doing it for him. And nights she spent in the executioner’s bed more than repaid everything she did during days. All in all, life was good, until one day changed it all.
That night she had spent alone. They had sent for the executioner late at the previous evening. She had woken up cold, long ago gotten used to sleeping next to hot furnace of his body. And she had been slightly worried. He had told her that he would be back before sunrise. Sun had risen and there was no sign of him.
She had shaken off uneasy feelings, made herself some breakfast and gotten dressed. It was late fall, weather was warming, but mornings were still cold, and for some reason she had been feeling dizzy and tired lately. She had carried logs to the fireplace and filled the bucket she kept in the kitchen with water from the well. She had cleaned the stable though the executioner had told her that he could do it later. She had repaired his shirt that had gotten torn few days ago when his horse had decided to taste if his blood would have been as tasty as hers had been. And then there had been nothing to do except to wait that he returned back home.
Sun crept higher on the sky, reaching soon the peak of its arc and started descending. And still there had been no sign of him. She had started the dinner, dicing few potatoes and some carrots in to a pot, throwing some dried meat in there as well. She had been hanging the pot above the glowing coals in the fireplace when the door had swung open.
“Pack us some clothes and something to eat!” She could only stare at the executioner. He stood in the doorway, clothes torn and bloodied, strands of hair escaped from their prison and whipping around his face in the wind, breathing labored and eyes darting between her and the path leading to town on his right. He was holding something, a small bundle of cloth, tightly against his chest.
“Didn’t you hear me? Pack us some clothes and something to eat! We don’t have much time before… Move, woman!”
She shook herself out of the stupor, grabbed saddlebags that hung on the wall next to the door and started throwing inside of them everything she could reach. Small pile of dirty clothes, some blankets, chunk of dried meat, some bread and cheese. All the while he stood on the doorway, glancing behind his back every now and then, radiating feverish feeling of danger that made her insides constrict.
Bundle on his arms moved and let out a small moan. She stopped dead on her tracks. She knew that sound. A baby. He was holding a baby.
“She needs milk.”
“We can get it later, there’s no time… For the love of God, they’re coming after us and if you don’t start moving they’ll catch us!”
His horse was waiting outside, obviously nervous and not liking a bit the way its master was treating it right now. It whinnied and backed off when the executioner approached it. He huffed and grabbed the reigns, yanking from them for the good measure, bringing the horse’s head in front of his face.
“Listen, you big, dumb bastard… You’ll take these two and take good care of them. Is that understood?” She heard him growl to the animal. He was going to send her away with the baby? On that beast?
“I’ll stay back and hide our tracks. Don’t worry, I’ll catch you as soon as I’m sure that they’re not following us,” the executioner said helping her on the saddle and pushing the baby on her arms.
“But…”
“I’ll explain everything to you. Later.”
“But Wolverine…”
“Oh, Christ… Just call me Logan. Lean over here a bit, darling…” he murmured, cupping her face between his large palms and placing a soft kiss to her lips. Then he slapped the horse sending them away, galloping frantically towards the forest behind the hut.
Rest of the day she spent learning how to handle the stallion, that was surprisingly obedient towards her, even went as far as to stop when she started to fall from the saddle. It was as if the animal had understood what the executioner had told it earlier.
For her relief the baby was sleeping. She found it strange that the small girl could sleep through all this, but it was easier to handle things when she wasn’t craving her attention. She couldn’t help wondering her origins. Or what had happened.
Several hours later she came to a small clearing in the forest. There was a herd of sheep sleeping on the soft grass already. Some of them seemed to be with lambs. Baby was still sleeping. That couldn’t be right. There had to be something wrong. She stopped the horse and slid carefully down from the saddle, tying the reigns to a tree trunk to prevent the animal escaping. It started grazing, seemingly satisfied from the turn the events had taken.
She opened the bundle with shaking hands. Baby wasn’t newborn. She was few months old, with chubby limbs and round belly. There was nothing wrong with her, yet she didn’t wake up when she tickled her under her throat.
“She’s not going to wake up before morning.” Words came from the darkness surrounding her and she nearly screamed before she realized who had spoken. The executioner. He leaned against the tree trunk, breathing heavily, his gaze fixed to the sleeping baby.
“I gave her something to keep her quiet. Good thinking with the sheep… She’ll be hungry when she wakes up…” He was sliding down slowly until he sat leaning his back against the tree, his feet sprawled, clutching his side.
“Your horse found them. Had nothing to do with my thinking,” she said, covering the baby and crawling to him. He chuckled weakly.
“He’s always been the smart one… Kept me on my toes…”
He was pale. There was blood trickling between his fingers and coloring his shirt. His skin felt cold and clammy under her fingers when she swept away strands of hair that sweat had glued to his forehead.
“I was already leaving when they brought her in… Told me she was possessed… That her mother had been a witch… Wanted me to purge the devil out from her…”
“Don’t. Don’t try to speak…” She tried to hold back her tears when she pried his hand off and saw the gaping wound on his side. Few bones had been shattered and she could literally see inside of him.
“Told them to leave it to me… The priest wanted to stay and watch… He couldn’t… Said he was afraid of the blood…”
“You can tell it to me later…” She tried to cover the wound with her bunched up apron, tried to stop the blood from flowing.
“At first I was just going to kill her… Make it fast, like that boy, just slit her throat, then bash the body… To make it look real…”
“Please…”
“Couldn’t do it… I waited until they left, then took her and ran…”
“Logan, stop talking.”
“Jeannette? Is that you?” He squinted confused, reaching with his hand, grasping a strand of hair that had escaped from her braid.
“Yes. It’s me, Logan. Stop talking, we have to make you better…”
“Jeannette… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to do it…”
“Logan, stop talking!”
“No… Listen… I didn’t mean to forget you… I wasn’t going to… I fell in love… I didn’t mean to hurt you…”
He was rambling. Delirious from blood loss and fever that had broken out and was burning him. She managed to tie the wound, and it looked like he was no longer bleeding. But he was still trashing and pleading apologies from a dead woman.
“She’s a good woman… You would have liked her…”
“Yes, I’m sure I would have.” She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to keep answering, but if she stayed silent he started screaming until she answered.
“I’m not going to forget you… But I… I hope that… You let me love her…”
He fell to a restless dream, still crying and ranting in his sleep. She curled around the sleeping baby and tried to close her eyes and ears. She needed to rest. The executioner and the baby would both need her in the morning.
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