He really did try ever since. She could tell from his exasperated sighs and dark looks he kept casting to her direction that he was really struggling to keep his mouth shut. And there were periods when he actually seemed pleased at her work, up to a point when he thanked her at the end of the day and praised her honesty and diligence.
She couldn’t tell if this was one of those nights, or would she get torn again for something she hadn’t done properly according to him. They were sitting in front of the fireplace. Snow was falling outside, big ragged flakes turning the scenery behind the window white and sparkly. The executioner was sipping rum and smoking tobacco he had bough earlier that day from a traveling salesman. She was reading. Or at least pretending to read.
“What do you plan to do when the year is over?” The executioner asked from her suddenly. She closed the book.
“I don’t plan anything. I have no way of knowing if I’ll be alive when this is all over.” The executioner harrumphed and again they sat in silence for a moment.
“Well… Pretend that this has been your last day at work. And that I have told you that tomorrow I’ll give you your wages and you’re free to go. What would you do tomorrow?” He asked.
“I… I don’t know. I’d rather not to think about it at all.” She didn’t want to start dreaming about possible future when the sword hung over her neck.
“But you have to have something. I can’t just throw you out on your own. You’d end up back in prison in less than a week. Don’t you have anybody? Family? Friends? There has to be somebody willing to take you in.”
She knew he was right. The amount of money she would receive along her freedom wouldn’t be big. Just enough to secure her for few days, give her time to find relatives or friends that were willing to take her under their roof until she got back on her feet.
“There’s nobody. My parents died soon after I married. Plague. And Carl drove off my friends.”
“Hmph. Some friends you had… You have five months left to figure out what you’re going to do.”
“And why would I figure out anything if I’m going to end up executed anyway?” She asked slightly angry.
“You haven’t yet given me a reason to lop off your head. If you don’t suddenly start misbehaving and slacking around I’ll be happy to set you free after the year is over.”
“That’s… That’s cruel…”
“No. It’s the truth. God knows I’m not the easiest or the most pleasant person to work with. You have done well. Even when I’m out of line. What I have been for the most part of your stay in here.”
“But…”
“You know… Remember that night few months ago? We fought and you finally told me what you thought about things. What you thought about the way I was handling things. I was waiting for you out there. I was waiting for you to come through that door with and poker or a knife in your hand. I wasn’t expecting that scream, and I certainly wasn’t expecting you to put me back on to my place. But that you did. Made me see things from your point of view.”
“I remember that. And my knee remembers that as well.”
“Still sore?”
“A little. But why? Why were you acting like that? Why do you still act like that, even today?” She asked, hoping she could push her luck a bit further. If there really was something wrong, if there was something she could do to make him stop turning to a monster…
“There are no good reasons for my behavior. At least not acceptable ones. I guess I have been just so tired and angry lately… I know I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“Why? What’s making you so angry?”
“Nothing. It’s not a suitable topic to discuss with a lady.”
“Considering what I saw that one time when you took me with you when you went to work…”
“Fine. It’s about that night. And many nights after that. I don’t… I don’t especially like my work, but it’s something that I’m good at. Up until now it has been easy to leave everything in the prison when I come home, but lately… There have been too many people in my chambers that don’t belong there. Children, women and men whose only crime has been to disagree with the church. It’s blasphemy and heresy and they deserve to burn in hell for their sins, but they do not deserve to be sent to my hands. It’s not right. And I shouldn’t even be thinking about right and wrong, because if I start doing that I would have to start looking back and evaluate every prisoner that has gone through that chamber once again, and I have a feeling that I wouldn’t be liking the end result of that evaluation that much.”
“Why do you do it if you don’t like it?” She pressed on more boldly.
“Why do I do it?”
“Yes. Why don’t you just quit and start doing something else?”
She didn’t get the answer she was expecting. The executioner just stared at her in disbelief, then started to laugh. It was a cold and bitter sound.
“You don’t know! You really don’t know! Oh, Jesus… Had you been around when I asked this work…”
“I don’t know what?” She asked, slightly put back by his glee over her ignorance.
“I’m the darkest sinner. The worst criminal of them all. As long as I keep my job I keep my head. I can’t just walk to my superiors and tell them that I have found something else. As soon as I do that they’ll lock me up and execute without a trial for the sins and murders I have committed under their command. Once you become an executioner, that title follows you to your grave.”
“Oh…”
“But don’t bother your pretty little head with that. Just… Try to stay out of my way when it starts to look like I have gotten enough. We should be just fine. It’s only few months and…”
He stopped talking and went completely rigid when she leaned over the small gap separating their chairs and hugged him.
“Thank you. Thank you for telling me all that,” she whispered, vastly relieved. All this time she had been thinking that it somehow was her fault after all. The small nagging voice at the back of her head whispering constantly that she should try harder because she was just a lazy slut. The executioner’s apology and confession had silenced those whispers, and for the first time in weeks she could breathe properly.
“Don’t mention it. An I didn’t tell those things so that you could start pitying me,” he grunted, trying to untangle her hands from around his shoulders. She refused to let go, and his struggles were half hearted at best.
“Come here,” the executioner huffed, grabbing her and lifting her on to his lap, tucking the crown of her head under his jaw and capturing her to the cage of his muscled arms.
“I shouldn’t be doing this. I should take you back there and ask them to call another executioner to take care of your case. But it has been so long since I have touched anybody like this. Not hurting, just holding. And I’m so goddamned tired that it isn’t funny anymore. I don’t know how I can go back there and keep doing what I do anymore…”
“Then don’t go. Just pack your things and leave.”
“I can’t do that. You’d end up back in prison.”
“Not if I came with you.”
“No. We’re not going to discuss about this anymore. And you’d better go to sleep before I start something we’ll both regret in the morning.”
“But…”
“You’re a convict, and I’m the man that’s supposed to keep an eye on you and possibly wield the sword that cuts your neck. That’s all there is. That’s all there should be. Go to sleep, Marie.”
“No.”
“No?”
The executioner was trembling. He looked absolutely lost, at loss of what to say or do. He clearly hadn’t expected her to refuse his command. He had pushed her off from his lap, but she forced her way back there and curled against his chest.
“What are you doing?” The executioner squeaked.
“I’m trying to make you see that there could be more. There could be more if you’d just let it…”
“Stop that or I’ll take you back to prison first thing in the morning.” He sounded angry, but when she turned to look at him there was only fear in his eyes. She swallowed and licked her dry lips. She wasn’t all that sure that this was a good idea. That this was something she should do. But she braced herself and locked her eyes in to his.
“Could you really do that? Take me back there and cut off my head when the time comes?”
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