Free Between Two Kings by Olivia Longueville Page A

before Christmas,” he said in a high voice. “Use an axe for the harlot’s execution,” he advised.
    Cromwell emitted a sigh of relief. Then he recalled what he had heard recently, which had come as a great surprise. “Henry Percy, the Earl of Northumberland, once said that Anne Boleyn is a natural witch. He persuaded me that she practiced sorcery on him, making him the unhappiest man in the world.” He grinned. “Percy was also interested in why Your Majesty didn’t order her to be burnt as a witch, at the stake.” His grin widened. “I would want to see Northumberland’s hateful face again as he spoke those words.”
    “Many people call Lady Anne a witch. And there is no smoke without fire. Perhaps, people are correct, and Anne is a witch,” Henry speculated.
    Master Cromwell continued playing with the king. He was a clever and logical man, and he knew how to get what he wanted. “Even Henry Percy said that. He surely knows Lady Anne very well because they used to be betrothed many years ago. Their engagement was broken as Henry Percy’s father and Sir Thomas Boleyn opposed the match.”
    When Cromwell reminded Henry about Thomas Boleyn, Henry felt like between them the Boleyns could bring about his downfall, after all, it was Thomas Boleyn who’d thrown Anne at him. He hated all the Boleyn family.
    “Master Cromwell, Henry Percy has a point,” the king retorted, his eyes narrowing with anger.
    Cromwell was amazed, his eyes widened. “What do you mean, Your Majesty?”
    “Perhaps, it is indeed a good idea to burn Anne as a witch. Given that we don’t have the French executioner, I want you to proceed to her execution by burning,” the king said resolutely. A scowl crossed his features. “However, please give her a strong poison right before the execution. It wouldn’t seem well for her to have an agonizing death. I am granting to her an easier death.”
    Cromwell was abashed. He didn’t think that he could have enraged the king so much. But there was no way back. He was satisfied that Henry had given him instructions to prepare for Anne’s execution. The method was not important. Only Anne Boleyn’s death was important. “Your Majesty, I think we will need to put something on Lady Anne’s head and to carry her body to the stake. If her face is uncovered, people will know that she died before the execution.”
    “Then, Master Cromwell, do it and don’t bother me any more with Anne Boleyn,” Henry commanded with a certain hard directness. “And, make sure that nobody from the Boleyn family comes to the court. They all are banished. I don’t want to deal with them and to hear from them. Also, inform my subjects that I prohibit the spelling out of Anne’s name under threat of an arrest.”
    Cromwell only bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
    December 1536, the Tower of London, London, England
    Anne Boleyn was in complete horror. The scalding heat rose up inside her, reaching deep within her heart like a selfish, cruel lover grasping for her soul. Then that heat transformed into the chillness of a dreadful fear that seized her heart. It was difficult for her to maintain self-control, but she tried not to look terrified. She felt uneasy as the spell of death had already captured her mind and her body.
    Today was the day of her execution. Anne was still shocked with the news that Henry had ordered to burn her at the stake. With sympathetic eyes and a silent apology in his eyes, Master Kingston informed Anne that the king had changed the method of Anne’s execution from decapitation to burning at the stake like a witch and high traitor.
    When she learnt about Henry’s orders, she was speechless and dumbfounded; she hadn’t expected such cruelty from her former husband. It was too much. It was too unimaginable. It was unbelievable. She felt as though the metallic chains had encircled around her bosom and hands, restricting her movements and making her body cringe in pain.
    It appeared that Henry