The next morning, I found out that the letter I had delivered to Sir Thomas More was a summons for him to sign the Oath of Succession, legitimizing Queen Anne and her children as the rightful Queen and successors to the throne of England. Unfortunately he refused to sign, citing that he wouldn't sign any document that repudiated the authority of the Pope. Despite his protests that he was willing to support Queen Anne's legitimacy, his refusal to sign made the King so furious that he had him arrested for treason.
I sobbed in my bedroom the night I heard the news, crushed that in such little time, Sir More's works were to be cut short. As I laid on my bed, shaking with grief and fear for him, Liandra blossomed in my brain, her aura strong with pride and arrogance.
"Well, well, well, how the mighty have fallen." She gloated, "And here you were, thinking him such a great and untouchable man. It's only a matter of time before they find him guilty of treason you know. And that is where you'll be, the executioner to deliver the blow."
"No!" I cried out, sobs racking my chest as she spoke.
"Oh yes! You will take the place of the executioner and deliver his soul to me with one fell of the axe. Then we can be done with the squalid town. Even the Pit doesn't reek as London does." She spat those words at me, eager to move on and corrupt other lands.
"Please Liandra, I can't do this." I knew my voice was weak, grief overwhelmed my soul as pain began to form in my left hand, steadily and slowly rising up through my body.
"You'll do as I say, puppet. I am the one in charge here. When his charges are finalized, you will become his executioner and deliver the killing blow. Or else." The pain ceased as I nodded slowly. Despite trying to have a strong will, I was incredibly weak to her influence. I think that she knew my secret, the shame I still harbored from when I succumbed to her allure when we first met.
She drifted away, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I laid awake that night, raw dread and mortal terror gripping my heart. I thought I had stared into the deepest, darkest chasm known to mankind as I lay in my insomniac state, but it wasn't until about a year later that I finally found myself staring into the abyss.
I indeed did what Liandra wished for me to do. While Sir More was locked away in the Tower of London, I sought employment as an executioner. It crushed my soul to realize how many people I would deliver a swift and final blow to with my axe, drop from the gallows with a long drop and a short stop, and bring the torch to the stake. Every night that I had delivered a sentence, I stayed up all night in the chapel, praying for forgiveness for what I had done.
"You pray for criminals. Murderers, rapists, and witches." Liandra sneered to me. "And your God doesn't hear your prayers, especially not the prayers of a damned soul like yours. A sinner who harbors a demon in his soul, the soul of a killer?"
Her words were like poison to me, making me doubt myself and my faith. "I may have made mistakes, but that does not make me an evil person. I may also be harboring a demon in my soul, but that doesn't mean I can't be devout!"
"Be careful of that high horse Thomas, you might hurt yourself when you fall off." She chided me, "Don't forget Thomas, I know all your thoughts and feelings. You play the penitent martyr, but I know your true feelings about what you do."
I swallowed hard, realizing what she meant. "I didn't realize that you could sense those feelings of mine."
"Thomas, I can sense everything about you. All your deepest desires, your shame, and your anger. That rapist you hung today, you were glad that he is dead, aren't you? You're upset that you did the deed, but you are glad he is off this earth. I can tell."
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"I...Yes, his death means the world is a better place now." I couldn't stop the bile rising in the back of my throat. The man had raped six women, two of them teenage girls, and I couldn't see in any way, shape, or form, how that was God's plan.
"And in some small way, you are proud of the fact that you were the one to pull the lever today. You, no one else, removed him from this world." She gloated. I was indeed glad, this was one execution that I felt a small amount of pride in. The monster I hung is a soul ripe for hell and one they will be glad to have.
"Ah...I can sense it, you're beginning to find delight in killing! You're enjoying the power it gives you, the absolute moral authority of right and wrong, decided by one swing of your axe or a pull of the lever. Now you see boy, now you see what real strength is." She laughed delightedly, reveling in my corruption. "Sweet little Thomas, it took less than a century for me to turn you to my will, you truly are a perfect little puppet!"
My head dropped in shame, she was correct of course. In less than one year I had succumbed not only to her desires for me to indulge in food, drink, and women, but also to the mortal sins as well. I had blood on my hands, and quite a lot of it already. No matter how hard I scrubbed, I would never be clean again. I was truly damned to hell.
"Better rest up boy, tomorrow is your big day!" She laughed in my mind as she reveled in my despair. "Oh come on now, buck up young man, it's not all that bad! Think about it, you are stronger than any other man, you've got immortality, and you've got me guiding you to greatness!"
I groaned as she spoke to me, her promises felt like poison to my soul and her lies burned in my mind.
"Promise me all you want, say all the things you have done for my body, but nothing you can say will make me forget that you have damned my soul to hell for all eternity! Liandra, you are a monster that stole everything from me!" I felt the anger rising in me.
"Oh poor Thomas, I did nothing to damn your soul. You are the one who has made every single decision that led you here. I may be holding your feet to the flames, but you're the one who took the leap. After all, a demon cannot force someone to do evil, all we can do is tempt and coerce. Ultimately, you are the one who laid with those women, who drank that wine, and who swung the axe." She spoke coldy, with raw satisfaction in her voice. "You have no one to blame, but yourself Thomas."
"But...the pain! You flood me with pain and with torture when I don't do as you say! How can that be my choice?" I raged at her, raw fury forming and even as I felt pain rising in my body, I pushed through it and tried to focus my anger at her.
"Your savior was beaten, starved, nailed to a cross and left to die. His side pierced with a spear and a crown of thorns forced onto his head. Yet," She paused and laughed, "he never turned on those who crucified him! Tell me Thomas, what did he say? What did he ask God to do when they were causing him the worst pain in his life?"
Her question was like a punch to the gut, the rage ceased as I doubled over in pain. Then it vanished, and I lay on the cold stone floor looking up at the cross above me in the sanctuary.
"What did your savior say Thomas? What did he ask of God?"
"He said "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do." At least, that is what it says in the Gospel of Luke." I said, gasping as I recovered from the pain.
"Thomas...You could have pushed through the pain, you could have sat there and let it wash over you and through you..but no. You did whatever you could to get out of the pain, even if that meant that you sinned. Your choice, not mine." She gloated, and the worst part of it was, I knew that she was right. I could have resisted, I could have been stronger, but instead I did the worst things I could have possibly done.
"Get to bed Thomas, More's execution is early tomorrow morning." She subsided into my subconscious and left me alone with my thoughts. I continued to pray for forgiveness in the sanctuary all night. Finally I saw the early rays of morning sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows of the sanctuary. The stained glass made the orange light of the sun into a multicolored rainbow of God's grace. When the rays of light fell upon my skin, I felt revitalized, and strangely at peace. I stood and walked to the window, placing my hand on the glass and feeling God's presence in my life for the first time in a century. I recalled the Gospel of John, where it said that if we confess our sins, that He will forgive us and purge our unrighteousness. I knew that today I had to do something different.
I returned to my room, gathering up my executioner's garb and headed to the Tower of London. I sat in silence as I sharpened my axe, considering what exactly I would do when I had Sir Thomas More on the block in front of me. I knew I couldn't just execute him, but I also knew that I couldn't help him escape. He was given the chance to sign the Oath of Succession, but he refused time and time again. He didn't intend to escape his death. He would be a martyr for his cause.
Tugging on my hood, I went outside and waited at the gallows. Sir Thomas More was marched out before the crowd and I waited for him to be brought up. He turned to the Master Lieutenant as he started to climb the rickety steps and said.
"I pray you, Master Lieutenant, see me safe up and for my coming down, let me shift for myself." He smiled softly to the Master Lieutenant who nodded and the man chuckled softly. He was in strangely good spirits, considering that he was facing his death shortly. I was surprised when More looked at me on the gallows and gave me a small nod and a smile.
"May I have my last words?" I nodded, that was an easy wish for me to grant. I gestured towards the assembled crowd and he simply asked for them to listen, and to pray.
"Have mercy upon me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion, blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me." He paused, and knelt down at the block.
I fell to my knees and began to weep, Sir Thomas More was such a powerful and devout man. How could I bring the axe down upon him? I dropped my axe and grabbed More's shoulder, begging him for forgiveness.
"I'm sorry my Lord, I'm so sorry..." I sobbed, but all he did was stand me up and kissed my cheek through the hood.
"I forgive you. Pluck up your spirits man, and do not be afraid to do your office." He chuckled, "My neck is short indeed."
I picked up my axe, and heaved a heavy sigh. I would have to do my job, and do it well. More had forgiven me, and in time, I would forgive myself. With a swift motion, I picked up the axe and brought it swiftly down. In one swing, I severed More's soul from his body and rendered him to Liandra.
God forgive me.
