After his little chat with Carl’ friends the executioner was more lenient towards her. Didn’t mock when something went wrong, if she showed signs of tiring or if her back started to hurt he told her to get some rest, and he took upon himself the hardest tasks of carrying water and chopping wood when he had the time. For some reason his work kept him in the town for longer and longer periods, until it got to a point where he spent even his nights in there, only stopping by his house occasionally to get some fresh clothes and give her instructions of how to handle things while he was gone.
She sat by the fireplace, immersed to a book telling about faraway lands and princes and princesses, little pot of water for her tea boiling over the fire, herbs already sprinkled to a bottom of the cup, their scent wafting timidly in the air. It was raining outside. Big, fat, cold droplets of water drumming against the roof of the hut. Earlier she had sewn two new shirts and a skirt for herself from a cloth the executioner had brought her from the town when he last visited. Then she had cleaned the house, changed fresh straws to the executioner’s mattress as he had told her to do few days ago and made some stew just in case he happened to stop by.
A horse was whinnying outside. He had decided to come home after all. She prepared her tea hurriedly and replaced the water pot with the one containing the stew she had made earlier to warm it up. Then stood waiting by the fireplace. Waited. And waited. Aside from the rain she couldn’t hear anything anymore. She walked to the door and pushed it open to see if there was anybody or had her mind played a trick on her, made her imagine a horse where in fact was none. The door was yanked from her fingers, and a hard hand landed on her wrist.
“So, you have been here all along. Whoring yourself to the executioner! Proud of yourself now?”
She realized who it was even before she stumbled forward and landed on the muddy ground on her hands and knees. Carl’s brother, Eliac. And from the looks of it quite angry of what had happened to his brother. And completely clueless of what was going on.
She had seen Eliac only once, during their wedding. Big and strong man with blond hair, and as fast and hot-tempered as Carl. Now he was towering over her, somewhat handsome face twisted to angry grimace, hands curled to big, lethal fists on his sides and eyes gleaming from tears shed for his lost brother.
“I came back from the war, expecting to see Carl with a child, and guess what I heard at the tavern?” Eliac hissed, baring his teeth. She shook her head and tried to crawl away from him, but her feet and hands kept slipping in the muddy soil, and it was almost impossible to move.
“I heard that the slut he married, that whore from hell had killed him! And that the executioner had taken liking to her and let her run his house as her own!”
She kept backing away from Eliac until her back collided with something solid.
“You have gotten one thing in your rage right. I have grown quite fond of her. It’s a pain to train a new maid, but she has a good head on her shoulders. Let her be. If you have problem with her being here, take it out on me. I brought her here. She works for me, will be working for the coming year to earn her freedom.”
The executioner stood behind her. When Eliac stepped closer he simply stepped over her and shrouded her inside of his cloak. She couldn’t see what was happening, but she could hear every word the two men traded.
“She’s a whore and has committed the ultimate sin! She deserves to be burned at stake!” Eliac shouted.
“No. For what she did she would deserve to be decapitated. Burning is reserved for witches and the likes. I do not meddle with those issues,” the executioner corrected Eliac. She couldn’t stop the hysteric giggle that escaped from her lips. She pressed her face against the executioner’s calf to stifle the noise, and felt the man flinch from the surprise, but he didn’t move from where he stood.
“We’ll see what the church has to say about it…”
“I do not work for the church. The Holy Father on his throne has no greater power over me than he has over any of us. Leave now, before you wear out my patience.”
“Heresy! Blasphemy!” She could hear the executioner drawing his sword and his feet shifted slightly apart, still careful of not stepping on her.
“Leave! I have already filled my quota of souls today. I do not wish to add yours on top of that pile…”
She heard Eliac stomping away, then the executioner moved and rain started to pelt down on her. The executioner offered his hand and pulled her up.
“Get back inside before you catch a cold. I’ll take care of my horse.”
“Will… Will you stay home for tonight?” She stuttered, her teeth chattering so hard it was a small miracle that he could make any sense of her words.
“Yes. Go now before you drown or something. I have no use for a sick maid.”
She managed all the way back in to the hut before her feet gave up and she crumpled to the floor. She wasn’t crying, but she was shivering all over, and every bit of strength escaped beyond her reach. She tried to crawl closer to the fireplace to get warm, but couldn’t make her body to obey her commands. She was numb.
The door opened behind her and she let out a whimper, dead on sure that Eliac had returned. He had come back to finish what he started. Strong hands curled around her and hoisted her up. She tried to kick and scream, but nothing was happening.
“You’re freezing. Take off your clothes.” The executioner. Why he wanted her to take off her clothes?
When she did nothing but sat on the chair he had placed her he huffed exasperatedly.
“Take off your clothes! They’re wet and cold! You get sick if you… Jesus. I’ll do it.” She let him jostle her, twist and turn her around and take off every stitch of clothing she had on her. Wasn’t this one of the duties of a good wife? To give in when your husband wanted you to? But this wasn’t her husband. Her husband was dead. It wasn’t Carl’s hands tearing in to her. The executioner was opening her undergarments with care, yet fast and efficiently, not lingering any longer than it was absolutely necessary, and when she sat completely naked, still shivering, he wrapped a warm quilt around her.
“Go to sleep.” Yet another command she heard but was unable to comply. She could only sit and stare at the flickering flames dancing in the fireplace. Eliac. Eliac had come to home and tried to kill her. Carl’s brother was back in town.
“Did you hear me? Go to sleep!” The executioner didn’t sound angry. Not angry at all. He sounded more scared than anything else. She tried to open her mouth to tell him that she was going. As soon as she got everything in order she’d go in to her bed, but right now there was nothing else she could do but to sit here and breathe.
“Fine. You’ll sleep with me tonight. I don’t know how to get you to your own bed, can’t fit through the gap between the wall and the chimney…”
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