The Executioner's Wife

The Executioner's Guild

The Guild was hard to find, on purpose. It was built to blend into the forest, forged of oak and repurposed metal. It was about a two-hour walk from his town, and even further for other executioners desperately seeking a spot to be themselves without judgment. The last time he had come was about a month ago, with Lily, and they'd had so much fun that they couldn't remember what happened- and neither could anyone else. But that was what the Guild was all about. The men and women who came there were the bringers, or spouses, or offspring of death in their respective cities. Although Alois was the Royal Executioner, hand-picked by the king himself for those who had personally offended the king with treason, they all experienced the same things regardless of the towns, nobles, and lords they were assigned to. They were shunned and outcasted at home for their dirty, necessary work. So they came to drink away their guilt or compare the crimes of the guilty. They were the only people on God's green earth who knew how it felt to dread emptiness and quiet- that's why the Guild was always so loud. He could hear the festive songs and smashing glass just over the hill, and soon saw the soft glint of light nestled in the trees and shadows dancing between them. Alois always considered them his only real friends. Now, they were his only hope.

He'd left about three hours ago- his injuries had slowed him. The evening had already darkened into night. His aching feet were begging for rest, but he pushed forward to the heavy oak door and threw himself against it, exhausted. He gave the obligatory knock- one, two, three, and the door opened gracefully, blinding him with the light of a thousand burning lanterns.

"Alois!" The crowd cheered, and their mugs lifted to toast him. That was the tradition- to cheer the names of those who came, since they were never cheered at home. But the mugs lowered, and a few smiles faded as the fellow executioners took in their friend. He stumbled inside, eyes wide and lost-looking, brushing past the men and women asking him what was wrong, and why wasn't he reaching for a drink. A full-figured, red-haired woman danced a jig on a table as a crowd clapped around her. A crew of men and women slapped cards on the table and yelled triumphant winnings. A quiet, skinny man wept in the corner as he nursed a litter of beer mugs. And a large, burly man, sat surrounded by wide-eyed onlookers as he told some remarkable story. Finally, Alois found what he was looking for.

Ivan, or Brooding Ivan to his victims and witnesses, nearly cracked a table in half as he slammed his fist against it, cackling after delivering the last line of a joke. They called him Brooding Ivan because of his massive height and bulk- the way he stood on the scaffold with his sword, awaiting his next client, gave him the respectable, fearful look of a brooding vulture. Lily had told Alois once that she thought he was tall- until she met Ivan. Ivan redefined tall, and reinforced the idea of a large, quiet, unnegotiable death. But that was just his work persona. Now, as he heartily slapped one man on the back and screamed a friendly insult at another, he became the Guild's local comedian once again.

Ivan's wide smile flickered like a mirage as soon as he caught Alois' face. He motioned for Alois to come closer, but his eyes shifted as he approached, as if he were already looking for a way out.

"Ivan," he started, his voice as dry and desperate as a man begging for water.

"Your Majesty," Ivan grinned. "Get this man a drink on me. Two drinks- he looks like hell."

Someone slid a heavy drink Alois' way, and then another, but he ignored them.

"Ivan, you have to help me. Lily-"

"Take a seat, friend," Ivan continued, waving for Alois to sit, as if this were a business meeting.

Alois sat, finally taking the time to catch his breath. A town's worth of hands clapped on his shoulders, welcoming him to the table. Someone shoved a hand of cards to him, another offered him a cigarette. Alois pushed them both away, trying again to focus on Ivan, who was busying himself with a fresh mug of beer. He noticed Alois' pleading gaze and barked almost irritably.