Warning: This chapter has an M rating.


Catherine peered into the same dreary darkness that hung in the sky all night. She didn't trust her surroundings enough to go to sleep. Fatigue was written in her eyes, but she continued to force herself to keep them opened. Somewhere behind her, she heard water running, so she seized her chance. Desperately, she applied all of her weight against the ropes in a hopefully attempt to break the rafter. It did not so much as waste a creak on her. Under her breath, she let out an irritated growl against the gag. Trying one last time, she sank to the floor in utter exhaustion, hands hanging limply above her and head bowed in defeat.

"Finally giving in?" She heard the heavy thuds of boots against the surface. Mentally rolling her eyes, she refused to turn around to face him. It didn't matter anyways. He strolled right around her until their eyes met-the wrath ever present behind his hazel irises. Whipping out a knife, he held it at her throat.

"I'm going to remove this," he said, indicating the gag, "but if so much as breath abnormally, I will slit your throat." He untied the knot while Catherine kept staring at him, trying to remember what she could have done to deserve this. He moved the knife from her throat to her hands. The ropes released her hands, and they dropped in front of her-feeling started to return to her unused fingers. Pushing herself off the floor, she dashed to the door and flung it opened. Another man stood there grinning as he pinned her arms behind her. A small boy followed this new man.

"You will regret this!" shrieked Catherine.

"I assure you that is not true," said the New Man. He pushed Catherine into Shadow Man, who shoved her onto the floor. Climbing on top of her, he handed New the dagger-blade shining in the few rays of light that had escaped into the cottage.

"Hold her down," barked Shadow."Boy, get into that room right there. Don't come out till we say!" The boy was shaking all over but complied. "And you, don't move!" he said grabbing Catherine by the throat. Her eyes widened-not with fear but of enmity as he started untying the strings of her dress's corset. Newman kneeled on her hands to prevent their unwanted strikes.

"What evil have I committed against you? Perhaps we could agree on a price."

"The time for negotiations is long past," he said tearing off the top portion of her dress, revealing a crocheted slip that provided minimum coverage. He continued pulling down her skirt, while she squirmed-frantic to regain control of her hands. Both men were cackling at her helpless state, while the boy peered out from behind the door-overcome with grief-observing as Shadow shook Catherine in a fruitless attempt to get a reaction from her. Slamming her back against the floor, he slid her slip up her thigh. She tried kicking at him, but her bare feet were as useless a hammer for a screw. Her exhaustion was increasingly harder to ignore and possibly because of this, Shadows had an easy time of spreading her weakened legs. The boy, with tears in his eyes, watched as the man made a thrusting motion which evoked Catherine's body to spasm uncontrollably. Even through his child's eyes, he could recognize that she was holding back a scream. How he wished that he could rush over to her and drag her away. Bringing a small fist to his eyes, he wiped away fresh tears. Shadows gazed down at her.

"Think you are so tough." He pushed himself deeper into her, provoking her back to arch in torment. Gritting his teeth, he pushed a little harder and finally, a glass shattering scream pierced the air. The boy sank to the ground, ears covered.

"What do you want from me?" she whimpered. New looked at her with wild eyes.

"For you to feel the pain we felt when you took away our brother and our sister. Accused them of some heinous crime-because our sister was sleepin around with the king. We knews it was you all along. And our brother-you couldn't pay 'im back for the services to the king."

Catherine's mind was racing, attempting to remember who they were. She arched her back once more, letting a petite whimper as he released himself. Suddenly, it all connected. During the last years of Henry's reign, he had invited the families of his guards. She remembered helping him cover the murder of a girl he had suffocated. How Henry refused to pay the soldiers when they arrived back from Calais. Even though he was years in his grave, he was still tormenting every aspect of her life. She could try to explain, but it wouldn't matter. They had no ears to listen to her side of what happened.

"Let me 'ave my turn, Brother!"

"All in good time, mi hermano."

"Can I at least cut now?"

"If you must," said Shadows, sighing, but retreating outside. New, straddling her like his bother did, yanked her wrist to her side. He brought the dagger down once, sinking into her flesh. Her mouth contained her scream. Again it flashed down, again, again, almost in rhythm with the pendulum of the clock on the mantle. Through misty eyes, she watched as the hours droned on. He removed the dagger one final time and raised her wrist so she could read it. ENVY, VANITY, SLOTH, LUST, PRIDE, GREED, and WRATH emerged on her wrist. Sliding her slip up to reveal stomach, another few moments snailed by as he spoke.

"You are every single deadly sin. All ya Christians are are hypocrites and cowards. Any time there is somethin that contradicts yar religion, ya just kill it. You have committed worse sins than my sister or brother committed. Ya know, I can't read very well, my dead brother read me The Divine Comedy. Its stuck with me af'ter all them years." He finally relinquished the dagger. Slowly moving her eyes to glance down at her belly, she read Treachery.

"I condemn you to the ninth circle of hell." Raising the dagger, he was about to plunge it into her heart when Shadows walked in.

"Stop! We need her to cripple France!"

"So, that was your plan all along! To cripple France by spreading panic throughout the countryside. By showing how unfit the king was to rule. How corrupt the church and the monarchy are. You are more of a hypocrite than I. Killing innocent people to accommodate you lost. Why did you not kill me from the start? You've had multiple chances." Her voice quivering more than she wanted it to.

"At first this was about you, but now that we've got to taste the glory of being a killer, I don't think we could ever turn back. You would be dead now if it were not for your son Charles. We've sent word up to the castle that the English have captured you. France will be catapulted into a war that they cannot afford."

"He'll never believe a note as stupid as that!" Catherine said venomously, but her shaking voice gave her away.

"He will. I happen to be one of his most trusted advisors. Bash offered me the position which I gladly accepted." He went to work tying her hands around a loop attached to the fireplace. "And when he receives word of your dead body in the Blood Wood, he will sink into a depression so strong that France will be vulnerable for any out to steal the throne."

"Sweet Dreams," New said as he and his brother locked the door behind them. She leaned her head against the side of the fireplace, wishing that Bash and Narcisse would hurry up.

"Please protect them," she muttered in silent prayer as her eyes gave way to sleep.