remove her gown. Beneath it she wore a satin petticoat – crimson – the martyr’s colour. Next, she took the gold cross from her neck and handed it to the executioner, who slipped it into his shoe, claiming the executioner’s right to the personal property of the condemned.
She knelt on the cushion and put her head on the block. Jack wanted to scream and turn and run. But the scene before them had a peculiar, hypnotic momentum and he was rooted to the spot, compelled to see the horror through to its conclusion. The white nape of the queen’s neck stretched over the coarse wooden block for all to see. It looked strangely fragile and slender. She stretched out her hands to either side in the pose of Jesus crucified on the cross. The executioner wielded the massive wooden axe. It glinted momentarily in the firelight and then wheeled downwards with terrifying speed. The noise that the axe made on impact was one that Jack would never forget.
But the blow had failed to sever the head from the body completely and the executioner repeated the procedure. His job completed, he lifted the head from the floor and held it high crying, “God save the queen!” There was a ripple of noise through the crowd. The executioner was only holding Mary’s auburn wigand the head, shaved to a grey stubble, had dropped to the platform and rolled forward before coming to rest not two metres from where Jack and Angus stood. Its pale eyes, still open, stared straight at them.
Escape
The bonfire in the courtyard was blazing and the crowd watched as Mary’s garments were dispatched onto it. All clothes stained with her blood were to be burned to prevent them from being used as the holy relics of a martyr. Angus turned to Jack and spoke for the first time since witnessing the horror of the execution. His voice trembled.
“You’re going to have to explain to me what we have just seen…”
“But not now; we need to work out how to get out of here.”
“What about one of those?”
Angus nodded at the line of horses along one side of the courtyard. A number of them were saddled, ready for the gentry and noblemen. Many of those attending had been called at short notice to witness the execution, and some of them had ridden all through a rain-soaked night to arrive in time.
“I forgot you could ride.”
“Of course I can ride – I live on a farm.”
Jack wasn’t sure this was something he wanted to hear. “But I can’t.”
“Easy – you just sit on the back. The horse does the rest.”
“That’s what I thought you might say. Anyway, those horses don’t belong to us…”
Angus shrugged and turned back to the fire. Its warmth was little comfort.
“We need to do something. This crowd’s starting to thin out – soon we’ll be noticed. I’ve already had some funny looks.”
They glanced around furtively. Across the other side of the courtyard, next to a large, arched doorway, they spied a group of men together with some servants. Jack jumped out of his skin when one of the servants seemed to point him and Angus out to an older, official-looking man. A moment later, three guards appeared from the doorway brandishing halberds. They advanced towards them.
“I don’t like the look of this.”
“Neither do I… we shouldn’t hang around.”
Without hesitation, Angus sprinted towards one of the tethered horses. He untied it, and, with impressive athleticism, jumped up onto its back.
There was a cry from the approaching soldiers.
“Spies! Stop them!”
Angus wheeled the horse round, “Come on – get up or we’re done for.”
“But…” Jack had no idea what to do; he’d never been on a horse in his life.
“Give me your hand.”
Angus reached down with a swarthy arm and hauled Jack up towards him. Jack jumped and a moment later, to his great surprise, found himself sitting high up on the rear of the horse, behind Angus.
Angus wheeled the horse round and kicked in his heels. The poor beast reared up… for a
She knelt on the cushion and put her head on the block. Jack wanted to scream and turn and run. But the scene before them had a peculiar, hypnotic momentum and he was rooted to the spot, compelled to see the horror through to its conclusion. The white nape of the queen’s neck stretched over the coarse wooden block for all to see. It looked strangely fragile and slender. She stretched out her hands to either side in the pose of Jesus crucified on the cross. The executioner wielded the massive wooden axe. It glinted momentarily in the firelight and then wheeled downwards with terrifying speed. The noise that the axe made on impact was one that Jack would never forget.
But the blow had failed to sever the head from the body completely and the executioner repeated the procedure. His job completed, he lifted the head from the floor and held it high crying, “God save the queen!” There was a ripple of noise through the crowd. The executioner was only holding Mary’s auburn wigand the head, shaved to a grey stubble, had dropped to the platform and rolled forward before coming to rest not two metres from where Jack and Angus stood. Its pale eyes, still open, stared straight at them.
Escape
The bonfire in the courtyard was blazing and the crowd watched as Mary’s garments were dispatched onto it. All clothes stained with her blood were to be burned to prevent them from being used as the holy relics of a martyr. Angus turned to Jack and spoke for the first time since witnessing the horror of the execution. His voice trembled.
“You’re going to have to explain to me what we have just seen…”
“But not now; we need to work out how to get out of here.”
“What about one of those?”
Angus nodded at the line of horses along one side of the courtyard. A number of them were saddled, ready for the gentry and noblemen. Many of those attending had been called at short notice to witness the execution, and some of them had ridden all through a rain-soaked night to arrive in time.
“I forgot you could ride.”
“Of course I can ride – I live on a farm.”
Jack wasn’t sure this was something he wanted to hear. “But I can’t.”
“Easy – you just sit on the back. The horse does the rest.”
“That’s what I thought you might say. Anyway, those horses don’t belong to us…”
Angus shrugged and turned back to the fire. Its warmth was little comfort.
“We need to do something. This crowd’s starting to thin out – soon we’ll be noticed. I’ve already had some funny looks.”
They glanced around furtively. Across the other side of the courtyard, next to a large, arched doorway, they spied a group of men together with some servants. Jack jumped out of his skin when one of the servants seemed to point him and Angus out to an older, official-looking man. A moment later, three guards appeared from the doorway brandishing halberds. They advanced towards them.
“I don’t like the look of this.”
“Neither do I… we shouldn’t hang around.”
Without hesitation, Angus sprinted towards one of the tethered horses. He untied it, and, with impressive athleticism, jumped up onto its back.
There was a cry from the approaching soldiers.
“Spies! Stop them!”
Angus wheeled the horse round, “Come on – get up or we’re done for.”
“But…” Jack had no idea what to do; he’d never been on a horse in his life.
“Give me your hand.”
Angus reached down with a swarthy arm and hauled Jack up towards him. Jack jumped and a moment later, to his great surprise, found himself sitting high up on the rear of the horse, behind Angus.
Angus wheeled the horse round and kicked in his heels. The poor beast reared up… for a
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