Chapter 1
Redemption - May 1523
With a frayed and fragmented scream Thomas Boleyn woke drenched in his own perspiration. His daughter's name still on his lips. His dream was a terrifying nightmare that reverberated throughout his soul and tore at his mind. With groggy realisation he slumped back onto his damp silken pillow exhaling a sigh of relief. A horrifying realistic nightmare,a clear and resounding vision of destruction that tormented his unconscious nothing more. Slowly he allowed his eyes to drift close and inhaled the comforting smells and familiar sounds of Hever Castle. Allowing the quiet of the night to lull him under the reigns of sleep.
However tonight tranquillity eluded him. He could not ease back into a peaceful slumber. Nor cease the alarm that was mounting in his restless thoughts. "Boom" "Clash" "Bang" with these thundering vibrations he jolted. Uneasily he stared into the darkness unable to shake the growing suspicion that he was being watched, haunted by the echoes of his nightmare. Apparitions of his child swirled before him demanding her justice,demanding her vengeance and their salvation and then nothing. A black endless void with only his screams to echo for eternity. Soft words continued to whisper into the night as phantoms danced. Images of death, despair and betrayal wove themselves into a boundless tale of anguish and pain until he was no longer able to withstand it and rose from his bed determined to rid himself of this dread.
Silently he began to pace the long and flickering corridors of the castle hoping to relieve the mounting terror that was threatening to consume him. But the further he walked, the more his heart began to pound and the more he was convinced he was being pursued, stalked by his own fear. Inhaling sharply he attempted to slow his breathing and regain some sense of reality. He steadily slowed his footsteps and leaned against the cool stone wall. In silence he focused on the rise and fall of his chest, the steady pounding of his heart and the empty stillness of the long and vacant hall.
It was the scent of rose water that caught his notice first. Slowly he looked up, his eyes searching the flickering darkness for the source. He heard it then. The swish of fabric upon the hard wood floors. "Elizabeth," his wife's name fell from his lips in a hushed whisper. He could hear it now, the soft footfalls walking towards him, the silky sigh and the whisper of air. Swiftly he straightened himself to stand at his full stature "Reveal yourself at once. I am the master of this house and I demand to know who walks my halls." His voice sounded foreign to his own ears. But he had ensured that no one save himself could detect his fear.
Calmly she emerged from the flickering murky shadows, her long raven hair drawn back to cascade beneath a glittering pearl tiara. Her gown, a beautiful and ornate design of black silk and silver linen. "Father" her voice whispered in cold and mournful tones as her deep obsidian orbs caught his sight and mesmerised his soul "Anne". Hesitantly he approached her, his mind a swirl of grief, anger and fear. For a heartbeat he paused the image of her loss so vivid in his mind. Her pale, listless and broken upon the scaffold "Anne". He reached out to embrace her. To shatter the illusion of her loathsome end upon the Tower. But as he went to grasp her arm his hand fell though cold stale air and his daughter's image shimmered.
Shocked, he stood motionless, his gaze fixated upon his empty hand and the vision of the woman before him. Tentatively he raised his head and beheld the glistening black eyes of his daughter. Was this illusion part of his nightmare? Did his dream consume him still? "Anne" the trembling word fell from his lips as he fearfully stepped back. "Anne...I...How" the words tumbling from his mouth as his mind began to race. Her dark brown eyes stared ceaselessly, searching into the very depths of his soul, her gaze unflinching and unyielding holding him captive and motionless. "Father" she echoed once more, her voice cold and indifferent. The bitter tone pierced his heart and brought him to his knees.
He stared in utter silence as she slowly made her approach. His breath coming in raggard gasps. His mind screamed in utter confusion. "Treason can have but one punishment" the dark insidious words slammed into his mind. " They are both lost to us" the ominous voice whispered "was it all worth it". The voice swelled in his mind and then in the darkness he felt the world go cold "I am your majesty's most faithful servant" he heard himself laugh. Tears burned the back of his eyes and shimmered in their depths but he refused to let them fall. "No" he screamed "Who is left to mourn you and who is left to claim your title?" Her voice was empty and doleful. The sound bereft of joy. "Only the ghost of his children will mourn him now" the gleeful voice whispered. "No" he screamed as he raised his head, his own dark orbs locking with hers "No".
In silence she stared. Her eyes searched endlessly in the darkness. Her gaze never left his face "No? Did you not hear my last words upon the scaffold? Nor the gleeful joy of our enemies as they laughed at our downfall?". Hesitantly he shook his head. He did not understand this realm of despair or the malicious hatred that permeated from her "No" he whispered as the swift plague of images bombarded his mind. "Be gone, shade you are but a dream". Slowly she kneeled before him. Her eyes never leaving his face "Dream" She smirked "No you have borne witness to your future...and my end".
She looked at him with such contempt, such clear disgust. The bitter tone struck his heart as she faintly placed her ice cold hand upon his shoulder. "This fate was mine to live" she whispered "To call your name, to see your eyes and to watch you flee". Slowly she withdrew "To die with a beautiful lie upon my lips" swiftly she turned "ever a good, a gentle and sovereign lord" she spat. Her words echoed down the murky corridor as the candles flickered in the darkness. "Le temps viendra" she breathed as her figure stood motionless in the night. In desperation he uttered her name "Anne". Reactively she turned, the black hem of her trailing gown a vaporous ripple upon the floor. Her dark piercing eyes connected with his own "For I have deserved to die" whispered the dark masuline voice "my death may be an example unto you all" His heart learched for the the deep familiarity and yet his mind could not bear to place the voice. Silently he dropped her gaze, his head turning to stare at the cold stone wall.
Slowly he closed his eyes attempting to shut out the pain. Her bombardment of animosity, ceaseless in the dark. Defenceless he recoiled, the weight of his accused transgressions pressing down upon him. In the incessant haze of bereavement he languished. Deep within himself begged for forgiveness and prayed for the strength to endure. There would be no salvation from the punishment this soul bequeathed. No hollow words of promise to shroud his misdeeds, no tactical move or reinforcement to fortify his defences. Nothing but defeat. Had this phantom appeared to cast him into the purgatory of his dreams, the endless void of darkness and eternal night for the sins he had yet to commit?. The air escaped his lungs in a desperate gasp, Ice cold fear overwhelmed him. He wanted to plead for mercy to beg forgiveness but his tongue would not utter the words. He waited for the moment she would strike him down, each breath an endless agony of time.
For a single breath he raised his head and grazed at her solitary form. His mind paused in entrapment, her silhouette a graceful display of elegance and poise. Anne, his beloved daughter. So bright she shone like the everlasting light of the heavens, a star amongst the evening sky. Now an apparition of ghostly proportion calm, soothing and regal, so distinct from the impertinent enticement of his youngest daughter. Softly she glided, enshrouded and embraced by darkness. In a soft whisper she glided towards him, her gown catching at her feet as it rustled on the smooth timber floors. His body vibrated with suppressed fear "what do you want?" he whispered, his voice horse and devoid of hope. "The wheel has been sent in motion but the path is undefined" Her cold melodic voice echoed within the chamber.
Slowly she reached his fallen figure."fear is unnecessary" a gentle half smile graced her face "the power of judgement does not reside with me." She sighed" Judgement is reserved for the scales and the feather." The bleak ominous silence stretched before them. His sharp exhale of air, the only sound of understanding. Delicately she knelt before him. Streaks of ice cold air emanated before her, pain and grief permeating the confines of the gallery as his heated breath misted in the chill of the night "You do not face oblivion this night but redemption." she whispered Gently, she laid a hand upon his shoulder "Salvation is for the sinner" her words bitter in the darkness" But redemption" she smiled "is for the worthy". Her eyes once more captured his own. Her face aglow with accomplishment. "Father". She whispered her summons calling him from his stupor. "We have been condemned with cause and reason for a fate deemed inescapable" She spoke in slow and guarded sentences "but of victory, of absolution our fate is undefined".
In restrained shock his mind began to calculate and his fear began to abaite. Her very being dripped with anguish and yet he perceived the blinding fury and conviction that governed her course. Redemption not vengeance was her cause. Her aspirations included his salvation, his amendment and swiftly he realised the opportunity presented. His mind quickly connected her words with his reality and relished in the challenge, the conquest and the gamble, for what other reason would Anne have appeared other than for a battle she could not win alone.
Smirking, she watched his eyes illuminate with understanding. In that moment she stood. His eyes trailing her figure in the darkness .Once it had become apparent she required his aid all fear had ebbed away and he rose tall and straight, ready for battle, ready for war. "This torment of fate was mine to endure... but it will not be yours," she sighed. "History is written by the victors and I have come to ensure ours". Her eyes locked with his own dark gaze "I have need of your assistance to defy the fates".
"Semper Eadem" He breathed, bowing his head in her direction. Relinquishing his doubt and dread he embraced the determination of a Boleyn and became the manipulative, confident courtier that lived within the sphere of the monarchy "The battle may be lost, but the war has just begun". He assured her.
Tilting her head she stared, his figure straight and tall in the darkness. A vestige of confidence. He had failed her once although he knew not the cause, he would not fail her again. "Always the Same" she replied. She had earned his allegiance, bound by blood and bathed in loyalty. Bowing her head she smiled. Her spirit had been bound in endless solitude. Confined to the predetermined flow of destiny and the ceaseless march of progression. Now a ghost of redemption, determination and alteration defined her course. The first steps had been taken. The clock moved forward.
"Le temps viendra" she whispered "The time will come".
In silence he braced the surface of his hard oak desk, steadying his mind for the campaign to come. What horrors await in this glorious future of yours" he paused. His inhalation, the only detectable noise within the confines of the room "Tell me everything". Heavy foreboding silence engulfed the interior. Shuddering, he turned to face her. A cold shiver trickled down his spine, as her turbulent gaze collided with his own. The shadowed dark of the evening cloaking his visible reaction to both the chill of the night and his daughter's frigid reserve. "Thirteen Years" She whispered. Slowly turning, her delicate and obscure figure stood solitary in the centre of the study.
"The end of my time and the end of your dynasty. The date is set, Thirteen years " Slowly she bowed her head and gazed in his direction. His eyes, connecting with her own "1536?" he whispered in haunting apprehension. A silent hush descended upon the room as she nodded slowly a faint grimace upon her lips. In one smooth motion he turned and paced around his desk. Dropping into the firm chair below. Indignation and bitterness pressed down upon him. Leaning forward he braced his elbows against the solid wooden surface and held his forehead between his palms.
"Why" he muttered "what offence was committed to warrant the annihilation of our house". He paused and searched the darkness for her shaded figure "How did we so offend a King?." Her shimmering presence drifting towards him, temperate and sedate "The usual ways a wife offends her King" she replied, shrugging with impertinence. "The Ambition, Lust and Greed" she sighed "Did not aid my cause. Particulty when my husband possessed all three faults in healthy measure". His confusion was clearly apparent as she smirked "No heir presumptive was born of my flesh and my wit, intemperance and jealousy were not compatible with the position of Queen and thus….he required another".
The encompassing emotions of rage swiftly engulfed the room and slipped into every crevice until the walls seemed to expand under the weight of hostility and yet her countenance never wavered, the appearance of regal serenity and calm encapsulated her. A cold contradiction from the woman he knew. "Not that we were innocent of sin" she murmured " But our alleged transgressions" she paused "were without foundation and yet" she sneered "were inescapable".
Her form rippled and churned, ethereal and tumultuous " Your plans with Butler will come to naught. Our downfall begins forthwith…In a pursuit of power" Thomas froze "The Earldom of Ormond?". "Granted to you in 1529 and lost in 1538" she replied. A sad smile fleetingly graced her lips. "Do you not remember the whispered words?" Horrified he trembled "my death may be an example unto you all" the familiar voice had whispered. "George," he cried, "my son". "Yes" she sighed. "George" his name murmured so faintly he barely heard her whispered breath. "He long ago abandoned our quest for redemption." she breathed "He found peace and accepted the destruction of 1536" Silently she paused "I could not".
Gracefully she turned to gaze upon the distant stars that sparkled through the glass windows and in desolation he faced her. His mind ravaged and his thoughts ablaze his heir, his children, the continuation of his house disintegrated into nothingness. "No," he pleaded, a desperate moan that clung to the deepest shadows of the night. Her piercing eyes flickered with sorrow as she tilted her head and glanced away "death came on swift wings and his heart was featherweight, he rests now in bliss".
In that moment she looked so alone, like the entire world had turned against her and within the deepest recesses of his consciousness he pondered if it had. "I was not so fortunate" her pale and ethereal figure turned slowly and her dark obsidian orbs hardened to granite. She began to weave her intricate tale, her story of pursuit, love, conquest and betrayal. "In three years time my destiny will march forward, I will inadvertently and irrevocably capture the mind of a king and within a year of that his heart" Her face appeared forlorn "For an age the King's Great Matter will ensue" He heard the wisp of her sigh but did not interrupt. "If a man takes his brother's wife, it is impurity. He has uncovered his brother's nakedness; they shall be childless." The gravity of her proclamation hung heavy in the air.
""Leviticus 20:21?" The question slipped from his lips as his enthralled eyes found her piercing gaze "these words will make me a Queen and give the King the power of a Pope" her statement echoed in the resounding silence. "In the year of our lord 1533 King Henry will crown his beloved wife, Queen " A small smile flitted across her face but quickly disappeared behind her despondent mask "For three years I reigned contested as Queen and for half of that I was loved" The bitter pain apparent even as death's veil encased her. "I bore a single living child, another perfect daughter for a King who had torn Christendom apart for a Son". Silently she began to pace "Elizabeth" she sighed "born of love, surrounded by scandal and destined for greatness" The words were spoken with the fierceness of a Mother and the heartbreak of separation. Slowly she turned to face him "The others were lost to me, either by stress or the actions of my enemies".
Unrelenting her eyes bore into him. "And then" she whispered "came my husbands complicit act of murder. My life was forfeit. But I was not to go alone. Five innocent souls were to depart this life before my time was done. My guardian and protector, my brother was to be taken" She cried. "A single swing of the executioner's axe and naught could be undone, forgiveness unattainable. Frantically she turned a snide curse upon her lips. "You have seen my end. But know not that I was left for two days to mourn his loss and await the sword. That my captivity was to be sponsored "she seethed "by my beloved child. The same child I was helplessly forced to watch my husband discard and delegitimize".
Her impassioned testimony insighting his anger. " This monster will not control our fate. This future was yours to live, but as you have said it shall not be ours." He growled. Pacing towards her with resolute strides. "I pledge to you my ceaseless assistance to ensure this finality will not befall us". At once silence descended upon the room, her cool fixated stare enclosed him in darkness "My death was not the end father, but the beginning".
Infuriated she laughed, her hands clenching tightly as her fingers dug into the soft skin of her palms "Death was nothing to his final infliction" she seethed "forced to endure the heartbreak of watching my only daughter grow to womanhood unguarded and alone". Her animosity flared and enclosed her "Abandoned and betrayed, forced to endure but broken beyond measure". Her raw anger surged as her voice darkened with rage "To grow in the shadow of my demise was to relinquish all hope of felicity and trust. To embrace the instability of power and reign in glory she surrendered her heart" Her voice catching as her ferocity receded "She wept to be so alone. How I wanted to hold her, even for just a moment". She whispered. Her fingers grasping the soft fabric of her flawless gown. Sighing, she closed her eyes to extinguish her pain "We are all measured in the Hall of Judgement" she breathed, Her head nodding in forced assurity. Slowly she turned to face him, determination etched in her stance.
His stomach churned as stark and brutal images flashed before his mind. Her smile was a soft smirk as his face flushed with grim realisation. "It was all for naught, everything, all for nothing" the sharp and shuttering intake of breath rattled within his chest "of all the fates , in all the world never would I manage to conjure up such torture to inflict upon a soul. I will live in desolation while my children lay cold and bloodless beneath the Tower and I am left to crawl on bended knee to the King that levied this torment upon me" His embitterment rose with every breath. Maliciousness flashed within her dark eyes "And I will linger, consumed by regret and constrained by contempt to wander this world" she replied, her rebuttal sharp and swift.
Throwing his hands into the air he turned and stalked the room in frustration, his mind consumed in contemplation. "But you have come to change the fates" He rumbled "You can save yourself, save us" he exclaimed "You have a plan for our salvation and our revenge" he spat, his dark charcoal orbs locking with hers. The rising fury radiating his very being, his eyes illuminated with deadly intent. White hot fury surged within him" We can topple a tyrant with just cause if it aids our endeavour" he raged. Her deep onyx eyes tracked his movements as he paced the cold confines of the suite. "No father, Vengeance is a trivial recompense" she retorted. Her words an ice cold compress to his frenzied ferocity" but redemption is divine '' She smirked.
"This future is not inescapable, but fate moves unceasingly towards its destination. Like chess pieces upon a board, the individual players must be positioned at precise points to divert the course of destiny." Her mask of indifference once more in place. "Yes father I have come to change the fates and you are just one piece upon the board".