Page 93 of Her Dark Seduction
“Why, God of course.”
He called out to the sentries, and left as swiftly as he came.
The next morning, they took me to the courtyard. A platform had been erected in the center. The gathering crowd began to murmur excitedly as I was brought forward. The pyre on the platform told me I would not share the manner of Guy’s execution. The best entertainment had been set for last.
Faces watched eagerly as I was brought to the stake and my hands secured behind it. Men chatted animatedly in small groups. Families stood together; husbands embracing their wives, children staring, wide-eyed in fascination at the subject of the lecture their parents would have given them about the evils of sinful behavior.
The king sat on another platform, his red hair shining in the sunlight. In my position I faced him directly. The executioner offered a blindfold but I shook my head. The crowd muttered at my reaction. I had no wish to entertain them with a weak woman’s crying. At the moment of death I wanted to look into the eyes of the man who had condemned me. King Henry was my distant relation, the man Maman had supported. This would be my final act of courage, the one thing I had the power to do. I would face Death and welcome my departure from a world of cowards and voyeurs.
The executioner stood beside me, holding a burning torch aloft. The smell of the oil that doused the woodpile beneath my feet grew stronger.
“Do you wish to say anything?” he asked.
“No,” I replied, “I know you are carrying out your duty as a loyal subject to the king. I pray that unlike many here you have not brought your family to witness this.”
“Nay, lady,” he replied, “I would not bring my children here.”
“You are wise,” I said. “Be kind to them.” My voice shook as fear began to choke me.
“Please, sir, administer your task quickly. My courage will desert me if you tarry.”
“God bless you,” he said and lowered the torch to the woodpile.
I held my head up, breathing in the smell of oil and smoke. King Henry’s eyes were upon me, and I met his gaze. The wood burst into flames, and I groaned at the intense heat burning my legs. The crowd had been eerily silent but among the hungry snapping sound of the fire I heard a woman sobbing. Another joined her and the sobs turned into a roar. Smoke stung my eyes, and I closed them to blink away the tears. The pain was agonizing. I gritted my teeth to suppress the scream threatening to burst from my chest. A hissing noise surrounded my ears. Adulteress, murderess, there was no place in heaven for me. The serpents of Hell were calling to me.
I could contain it no more. I opened my mouth, drawing in gulps of air that burned my lungs, and I let out one final scream for the man I would soon join in death.
“Vane!”
