THE
EXECUTIONER WAITSby
Gerald Bosacker
Jean's eyes opened as the first rays of the new sun squeezed through the bars of the tiny window, high-up in the tall and narrow stone walled cell. Jean's closed eyes, blocking the bright rays, would not postpone the dawn with its inevitable summons by King Roderick's Royal Guard. Today's execution was set for seven and would not be delayed. It had been a warm night but Jean shivered with apprehension. Visions of headless monsters, rising from the scummy moat that ringed Roderick's Castle still remained in Jean's mind. Last night's apparition was of a once beautiful young girl in a blood stained but once white wedding gown that was smeared with kitchen garbage and night-pot trappings, blindly grabbing at her mutilated neck as if searching for her missing head.
In the horrible dream, the macabre bride demanded Jean's head to replace her own. The apparition faded as Jean struggled awake but the beheaded bride had once been real, and well remembered by Jean. A former favorite of King Roderick that had been discarded, then decapitated after three years of honeymoon that had not provided an heir to the Plavonian Throne. Jean had attended that royal beheading at Roderick's command, but took no pleasure at watching the axe blade stall halfway through the neck, requiring a second swing to sever the small and beautiful neck. As the young Queen's blood gushed from the first wound, the public throng had squealed in excitement. The eyes of the former Queen closed and re-opened twice, from pain or automatic reflex. Or had it been a signal to someone. Since that execution, Jean had continued to obsessively ponder that riddle.
The Royal executioner with the too soft swing would have probably gratefully suffered such a harsh fate, even from a dull axe requiring many strokes, rather than his tortured end in Roderick's dungeon. Unlike hangings and be-headings, torture was never witnessed by Roderick's subjects and Jean wondered why?
Maybe, slow death was not interesting, even if it were a crueler deterrent to illegal behavior. That is, if Plavonia's citizens were to be taught that causing displeasure of the King was a capital crime.
When the doomed executioner botched the first swing of his axe, he had called for help from the attending officials, but no one volunteered. Agonizing minutes passed while the lips of the discarded Queen tried to form words. Finally, King Roderick stepped forward and arrogantly grabbed the long, golden tresses of his former bride and stretched out her mutilated neck tightly over the chopping block, whether out of mercy or unwilling to imagine his Ex-Queen's final thoughts. Was she yet alive to feel that last insult? When did death occur? Blood slowly seeped from her severed head and the eyes remained open for some time.
Jean lay in bed, fitfully contemplating the unanswerable mysteries of execution by axe, wondering how one could communicate with a disconnected head. Even if the tongue could form the words, where would the force of voice come from. The expelling air from the severed neck only made bubbles and a slight hiss. How could someone make known how horrible death by axe felt, with unspoken testimony.
If only the crowd could feel some of the pain, rebuking the King by refusing to witness such a gory spectacle. Could their attendance mean they were without compassion or was their participation only relief that it was not their neck on the block. Jean remembered witnessing other executions, but could not remember any proof of continuing pain. Maybe, swift death, allowed no pain at all, but who would tell.
Jean's painful contemplations were interrupted by the Captain of the Roderick's Royal Guard, who rapped softly and politely on Jean's door, then muttered, "It is time, Jean, come with me."The dreaded moment had arrived. Jean rose from his bed, praying, "Oh blade, be swift and well aimed. Spare Queen, Marianne from suffering." He reached for his axe that he had honed and re-honed during the last fitful night.
Dare he hope that this would be the last beautiful Queen Good King Roderick would condemn to death. Jean hoped that he would only have to witness, not perform another execution of a beautiful girl cursed with the impossible task of providing a son for King Roderick.
Background by Joey Dragon.