The suite that would be theirs for the upcoming days was large, with two bedrooms, a large bathroom with a tub and an enormous room for both official meetings and relaxing.

"Now this is something else than a ship", Caspian said with a grin and slumped down on one of the couches in the main room. Cate, having kept herself reasonably sober, sat down in the other one and stretched her arms.

"I still cannot believe that you said no to all of those women who asked you to dance", she said. "Believe me, they looked more than disappointed."

"Well, none of them was as beautiful as the lady sitting in front of me", Caspian answered and sat up.

"What, that old hag?" Cate said, remembering the old lady with a large, grey wig and a face covered in white powder who had been sitting on the other side of their table for most of the night. Caspian laughed, but soon stopped and turned serious, his eyes studying her intently.

"I was referring to the one sitting in front of me right now", he said, the tone in his voice sending a shiver down her spine. She quickly averted her gaze, but felt how her cheeks heated up.

"I'm nothing like them", she said silently. She never heard Caspian rise, but suddenly he was standing in front of her, tilting her head upwards. His eyes had turned dark.

"You are everything and more", he whispered, before he lowered his head and placed the softest of kisses on her lips. That simple gesture sent a wave of heat through her body and before he could move away, she brought her hands up around his neck and pressed him down, causing him to lose his balance and fall down on top of her. Neither of them cared; they were far too busy exploring each other's mouth. As they managed to get their legs up on the sofa as well, Caspian's lips started to trail down her throat and across the top of her chest.

"You are so beautiful", he mumbled against her skin. "Perfect."

She moaned under his touch and wished he would make short use of her dress. Of course, being noble and also reminding himself that she had no other dress to wear, Caspian took his time unlacing it. And as she was equally aware of the few clothes they owned, also she took her time with his jacket, shirt and trousers, until they had shed all of their clothes and thrown them onto the floor.

They were so busy with each other that neither noticed when the old woman, who had earlier sat opposite them, opened and peeked in through the door, smiling to herself at the sight and then leaving.

She walked back through the corridors with the same dignity as that of a Queen and stopped when she reached what seemed to be a dead end. But instead, she turned around and checked that the corridor was empty, before placing a hand on one of the bricks in the wall. The wall disintegrated, revealing a staircase that lead down to a secret dungeon.

"Has he answered your questions yet?" she asked the old man she met at the bottom impatiently.

"No, mistress", the man answered and bowed his head. "Whatever that woman did to him, it brought him out of the trance we put him in."

The woman snorted and swiped her hand over her face, changing it into that of a young woman's.

"Well, if torture can't do it, then pleasure can", she said.

"What about the traitors?" the man asked.

"Well, let's just say that they are as busy with one another as Bradford will be with me in a couple of moments", the woman answered with a smug grin. The man looked equally smug and stepped aside, letting the woman walk into the cell.

The cell was empty apart from the man that was formally known as the leader of the Barenians. His hands and feet were tied to a chair in the middle of the room and there were several fresh bruises on his cheeks. At the moment, he kept his gaze at the floor.

"My lord?" the woman said silently. "Are you alright?"

"I am not your lord", the man answered, his voice sharp. "You kidnapped me and drugged me, tricked me and deceived me."

"Why would someone do that, my lord?" the woman asked, adopting the ways of a servant girl. "Does someone wish to harm you?"

Now he looked up and for the first time since he got here, the woman realized that his gaze was piercing; sharper than the best of knives.

"Do not play your tricks with me, Fenhilda", he said sharply. "My eyes are clear once more and I can see through your disguise easily."

The woman bared her teeth in anger and changed shape once again, this time to her true one; a woman in her fifties with black eyes and brown hair that was turning grey. Three scars were running diagonally across her face.

"You might have seen through my disguise, but you won't get out of here", she hissed and stepped forward, then softened again. With a smile she stroked his cheek and he quickly looked away, refusing to be tempted.

"Of course, that could change, if you told me who that young woman is. The one that woke you up from this trance, remember?"

He didn't answer; instead he held his lips so tightly together that they were almost invisible.

"Now, now, Bradford", Fenhilda continued, forcing herself to remain calm. "She cannot be that important to you. What is important is to live, and as our King you get to live."

He kept looking away, his expression not changing. Fenhilda finally lost her temper and punched him in the chest, pleased to hear him gasp in pain and to also feel a rib crack beneath her hand.

"I can tear you apart in a second", she hissed. "You have twenty-four hours to tell me who that woman is; I will return once every hour and break another of your bones if you still refuse to answer me. If you do answer, I'll heal you and you will be free."

He looked at her again, his gaze defiant.

"Do it."

Cate's eyes snapped open. It took her awhile to realize where she was and what had happened, but soon she recognized the roof in the suite and also felt Caspian sleeping behind her, resting his head against her back and keeping an arm protectively around her bare chest. How long time had passed since they made love first on the couch and then in the bed, where they had then fallen asleep; two hours, three hours? Had the feast started again?

Carefully, she untangled herself from both the sheets and Caspian, who mumbled something in his sleep and then turned around. She then walked into the bathroom and splashed some water into her face, before studying herself in the mirror. She looked tired; her eyes were red from the lack of sleep and she had black marks beneath them. Still, she did not feel tired.

It took her a few moments to realize that what she was actually seeing was a magical reflection of Aslan's physical condition; the powers he had given her had obviously manifested into something that enabled her to see how he was doing. And the answer was bad; really bad.

Then the dream came back to her and she realized that it wasn't a dream; it had been a vision of what had happened while she and Caspian had been distracted. She closed her eyes to focus and remember the details. Fenhilda had said that she would return once every hour and break one more bone of his. As she had no idea how long they had been sleeping, she had no idea how many more bones she had managed to break, or how many hours she had left to save him.

Impulsively, she opened the door that lead into the gigantic wardrobe, which was a part of the bathroom. To her surprise she found several sets of new clothes in there; obviously not everyone had been aware of the deception. She chose a pair of trousers, a shirt and a long cloak with a hood. By pulling her hair back with a ribbon she should be able to pass as a man out in the corridors. Hopefully.

After checking that Caspian was still sleeping, she slipped out into the corridor. Through memory she managed to get to the dead end where Fenhilda had opened the secret door. Now, the question was how long time she had before the woman would come back down to torture her friend. After some thinking, she realized that the only way was really to wait until she came back and then get in through the door once she'd left again. Bad thing was that that would mean that her friend would have another bone broken once she got to him, but she might just as well be walking into a trap if she didn't wait.

She slipped in behind a few old barrels that had been placed in the dead end and as she sat there, she soon started to hear the sounds of the feast below. When looking out through the windows she guessed that it was now close to midnight, as the sky had turned pitch black. After managing to go through her previous memories, she concluded that she and Caspian had gotten to their suite around four hours ago. Which meant that Brad would have at least four broken bones.

She almost stopped breathing when she heard the approaching footsteps. In the darkness she would, hopefully, be hard to notice among the barrels, but if it was Fenhilda she needed to be extra careful; Fenhilda might be able to notice her with magic.

As the steps came closer, Cate saw that it indeed was Fenhilda, and she was way to furious to even look around for possible witnesses as she opened the secret door. Obviously she was not used to someone letting her wait for an answer. She disappeared down the stairs half-running, half-walking, and the wall appeared yet again.

Cate quickly stuck a few fingers down her left sleeve to make sure that the knife was there; Drinian had indeed showed her how to best hide her weapon. It had never occurred to her, though, that she might actually have to use it, perhaps to kill. In the dream she had seen one guard down by the cell and she saw no reason why he shouldn't still be there. And he wouldn't show her mercy.

The minutes slowly ticked away and Cate feared that Fenhilda might have broken her word and was crushing each and every bone in the man's body. Then, suddenly, the door opened again and the old woman stepped out, still furious. Obviously Brad was very stubborn and had not told her anything yet. Muttering some foul words, she walked away through the corridor. Cate did not rise until her enemy was no longer visible. Quickly she walked up to the wall and placed a hand on the secret stone, which she remembered from both the dream and from when Fenhilda had earlier opened the door. Also now the door opened and she slipped in, carefully making her way down the stairs. She had to move slowly both to avoid detection and to make sure she didn't miss a step; the staircase was completely dark and she definitely didn't want to fall on it.

After what seemed like an eternity she saw the light from torches stream in through an opening somewhat below; she'd reached the dungeons. Her heart pounded so hard and fast that it was a wonder in itself that no one heard her.

She stepped out from the opening and the guard by the door turned towards her, staring at her in surprise. Knowing that she wouldn't get another chance, she pulled out her knife and threw it at his bared throat. It hit and blood shot out over the floor as he fell down, cramping and trying to scream. After less than a minute he lay completely still.

Focusing on the task at hand, she snatched the keys from him and opened the door. Brad was still sitting in the middle of the room, still naked and bruised. The only difference from her dream was that he was now trembling with pain.

Swiftly she walked over to him and started to try and loosen his ropes. He immediately looked up, his eyes widening in shock.

"You…"

"It's me", she interrupted, meeting his gaze.

"But… what are you doing here?" he asked. "You could get killed."

"As could you", she muttered, uttering a low curse as the ropes would not untie themselves.

"You'll need a knife", he stated. She glanced back through the door, towards the dead man with her knife in his throat. She didn't really like the thought of pulling it out.

"No, I can do this", she said and once again started to try and untie the knots. After a few useless attempts, she decided to try the knots binding his hands instead.

This time she got a reaction, but not the one she'd expected. She'd managed to untie part of the knot and was just trying to figure out how to continue when she saw the ropes tying themselves again.

"Oh shit", she mumbled, staring at the ropes.

"What?" Brad asked, trying to turn around. "What's wrong?"

"The ropes are enchanted", Cate answered and rose. "They're tying themselves."

His eyes widened, before he looked at nothing in particular with a stern look on his face.

"Fenhilda", he hissed. That reminded her of the older woman's promise.

"If I manage to cut the ropes, will you be able to walk?" she asked, trying to distinguish what bones that had been broken. He frowned at the question.

"Yes, why shouldn't I… oh…"

His eyes widened again.

"How did you know what she was doing to me?" he asked, suddenly suspicious.

"I had a vision of it", Cate answered. "I saw when she came down here and said that she would return once every hour to hurt you again… if you didn't tell her who I was."

"But if you had a vision, then… you have magic?"

"No, I… it's complicated."

She sighed.

"Could we focus on getting you out of here instead?" she asked. "What bones has she broken?"

"Two ribs, one on each side, and both of my arms are dislocated", Brad answered.

"The ribs will make it harder for you to run", Cate noted.

"But if you have magic…" Brad begun, leading her back to the old subject.

"I don't."

"Listen", he said sharply. "Magic was used to tie these ropes. If you use magic, then they might untie themselves."