Christ…”
Rich waved a hand. “No, no. That is settled. You are a heretic. We know that. You have been sentenced, and that case is closed.”
“It is for another reason that you are brought here,” said Wriothesley. “You were not alone in your heresies. You must know the names of many people who support that erroneous belief for which you are going to die.”
“How should I know what goes on in the hearts and minds of others?”
“Madam, you are very clever. You have read too many books… far too many books. But do not waste your cleverness on us. We do not want sly answers. We want names.”
“Names?”
“The names of those who attended your meetings, who read those books with you.”
“I cannot give you names.”
“Why not, madam?”
“If I could say with certainty that such and such a person believes as I do…even so Iwould not give a name.”
“It would be wise not to be saucy. We are less patient here than in the Guildhall.”
“That I understand. Many may hear your words in the Guildhall. Here, you may say what you will.”
“Madam, you are a lady of gentle birth. I do not think you realize the importance of your visit to this chamber.”
“I know, sir, why you have brought me here,” she said. “Here you bring men to suffer torture. I did not know that you brought women. I understand now that it is so.”
“You are insolent, Madam. Have a care.”
Wriothesley signed to the two men, who came forward. They were professional torturers; their faces were blank; they were devoid of all feeling, as all must become who ply such a horrible trade.
They had seized her by the arms, and Wriothesley put his face close to hers.
“I do not think even now that you fully understand what will happen to you if you are obstinate. You have heard of the rack, no doubt, but you have no notion of its action.”
“I can imagine that,” she answered; she hoped that he did not see her lips moving in prayer, forming that one word which made up her desperate plea: Courage.
“Take her to the rack,” said the Solicitor-General. “Mayhap the sight of it will bring her to her senses.”
She was dragged across the room and her eyes perceived that instrument which none could look on without a shudder. It was shaped like a trough, at the ends of which were windlasses; in these, slots had been cut in which oars could be placed in order to turn them, and about them were coiled ropes to which the wrists and ankles of the sufferer could be tied and made taut by winding the windlasses. By means of the oars, in the hands of two strong men, the windlasses could be turned so that the victim’s legs and arms were slowly pulled out of their sockets. Even the dreaded Scavenger’s Daughter was not more feared than the rack.
“You…you would put me on the rack…in the hope that I would betray the innocent?” asked Anne.
“We would put you there that you might betray the guilty.”
She looked at the men about her, and her eyes rested on the anxious face of the Lieutenant of the Tower, but he could not bear to meet her glance. He said: “My lords, I like this not. A lady…to be put on the rack!”
“Those are His Majesty’s orders,” said Wriothesley.
Knevet turned away. “If you are sure, gentlemen, that these are the King’s commands, then we must obey them.” He turned to Anne. “I appeal to you, madam. Give us the names that we ask of you, and save yourself from torture.”
“I cannot give names merely to save myself from pain. How could I?”
“You are brave,” said the Lieutenant. “But be guided by me. Give the names…and have done with this miserable affair.”
“I am sorry,” said Anne steadfastly.
“Then,” said Wriothesley, “we have no alternative. Madam, you will take off your robe.”
She was made to stand before them in her shift, whereupon they placed her on the rack and attached the ropes to her emaciated wrists and ankles.
“Are you sure,” said Wriothesley, “that you wish us to continue?”
“You must do with me as you will.”
The Chancellor and Solicitor-General signed to the two men who had taken their stand at each end of the trough.
Slowly the windlasses began to turn; her poor sagging body became taut, and then… such agony took possession of it that for one terrible moment she must scream aloud for mercy. But almost immediately she was lost in blessed unconsciousness.
They would