Reaper of Seven

Chapter Three

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."