Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me and I'm pretty sure they don't belong to Loyce unless she's hiding them in her bathroom whenever I come over to visit.

Loyce: Crap!! She's onto us boys!! Head for the laundry room next time!!!

Krieli: No one hides Heero from me and gets away with it!!!

Heero: Eep.

Author's Notes: Loyce and I realized the other day while sitting around, watching TV and fussing over Ali (her three month old angel/demon), that we've known each other for a year and a half now and written countless stories on our own in that time, as well as collaborating with other people, but we've never written a story together. With our shared love of AU's, GW boys and dresses with full skirts, we put our heads together (ouch) and came up with this brand new AU for your very much reading pleasure.

As it stands, we're alternating chapters; the next chapter will be Loyce's baby, but we're smushing our grey matter together for the basic plot overall and putting it up on my ff.net page, although if you want to see her other fabulous stories, her ff.net pen name is Loyce. Go to her page. We've been researching our little bottoms off on this time period and it's finally ready to be debuted. So, without further ado, here is the first installment of "And He Walks with Me." We both hope you enjoy it very much!! And if you have problems...er...direct them towards her. Kidding, kidding, of course I'm kidding. Wuv you, Missa. :::big grin:::

****

And He Walks with Me
by Kristen Elizabeth and Loyce

****

She almost felt sorry for them. The good ones. The pure ones. Too pure to be true. Like newly fallen snow on virgin soil in the light of a naughty full moon. They were the Chosen Ones, chosen not by any god, but by themselves. Holier than everyone.

They had no idea what was to come.

But they would deserve it. For all the things they had done to her, for the way she had been cast out of sight and out of mind...she would make them all pay. All she needed was time. Time...and Him. No, not the brimstone god they all subjected themselves for, but the real Master. The Lord of earthly pleasure and underworld decadence.

The one to whom she prayed. Her arms rose above her head, her sharp fingernails reaching for Him.

"Come my Lord and Master. Fill me with your essence and let me take my revenge."

****

Sanq Village, Massachusetts
October 1690

Flour. Eggs. Water. Aniseeds. Relena Peacecraft wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, unknowingly leaving a streak of white powder behind on her pale flesh. The way of making biscuit bread never changed; her ancestors in England had done it every day of their lives in the exact same manner. The women in the village were all in their homes at that very moment rolling dough and tending the hearth in preparation for baking, as well. It was a chore and like any chore in a Puritan household, it was to be performed with diligence and skill and without complaint. Still, Relena couldn't help it.

She was bored.

"Idle hands are the Devil's tool," she repeated with near-instinctual promptness. Allowing herself one little sigh, Relena began kneading the pliant ball of raw ingredients. She should be grateful. The flour was not coarse, the eggs had been lain that very morning and the water was clean. There were so many who could not say as much about their food in this new world.

Outside the open window that allowed fresh, cool air into the overheated lean-to behind the main house, Relena could see her favorite tree. It was thus because it was far enough from the house so that in her youth, she had been able to climb it without fear of being seen from the road. Now that she was grown and could no longer scale the wide branches, the tree was still her favorite because it was there, underneath the full blossom of the past spring, that Heero Yuy had kissed her for the first time.

Her body might have been preparing the day's bread for the hearth, but her mind was back in that moment, still feeling the chaste press of his lips against hers. There had been kisses since, longer, deeper, but the innocence of their first was too perfect to ever forget. She smiled as she rolled the dough into smaller balls. It was Wednesday; she would get to see him at the Meeting House later. It was wicked and sinful, but lately her mind was never on her brother's sermon when she knew Heero was only three benches back, watching her.

When the dough was ready, she used a long, wooden paddle to slide the iron baking sheet in place over the flames. She gave the burning logs a poke before straightening up. With the bread baking, it was time to begin the pottage that would accompany it as the family's evening meal after the Meeting. She had just begun to ladle water into her pot when the lean-to door slammed open.

Although she was a good three inches shorter than Relena's modest five foot six, Hilde Schbeiker somehow managed to fill the door's entire frame with her bright-eyed energy. Her dress, while far from finely made, fit her trim curves perfectly, almost to the point of indecency. The drab grey color would have washed out anyone else, but on Hilde, it only brought out the stormy hue in her blue eyes and perfectly complimented her coal-black curls. She carried a woven basket full of newly picked vegetables from the garden.

"Miss Relena." She approached the other girl and set down her load. Relena breathed in the rich scent of freshly turned earth and sky air. "Miss Relena...I saw him!"

Not needing to ask to whom she was referring, Relena started the important task of washing the vegetables with the well-water Hilde had drawn earlier. "Was he alone?"

"Nay. Master Heero and he walked together."

Relena slipped and dropped a carrot onto the hard-packed dirt floor. "Did he...did they look well?"

"When do either of them not, Miss Relena?" Hilde sighed happily as she bent to pick it up. "They started for Goodman Ashcroft's fields; you know he is laid up this month with a broken arm."

"It is most Christian of the doctor to allow his apprentice and his servant to forgo their own duties to help their neighbor," Relena commented. She paused with her hands deep in the washing bucket, holding on to two potatoes.

When her master's sister said nothing for a long moment, Hilde delicately cleared her throat. "Perhaps we ought to take them a cool draught of water at midday," she suggested coyly.

The thought of an unplanned meeting with Heero sent a delicious curl of pleasure up the length of Relena's spine. But she kept her smile self-effacing and nodded, "Aye. Perhaps we ought."

"I shall wash these, Miss Relena," Hilde said, taking the potatoes from Relena. She was afraid that if she didn't set herself to some task, she might burst from the happiness of it all. "'Tis my duty."

Relena wiped her hands on her apron to dry them. She didn't like it when Hilde reminded her of their separate stations within the house. She was sister to the master; Hilde worked for a few shillings a month to send to her family in Plymouth. It made her much happier when they could just be friends, working side by side. Still, it wasn't too hard to hand her chores over to Hilde, especially on a beautiful fall day. "Have you spoken to my sister today?"

The girl shook her head as she scrubbed dirt away from the potato's brown skin. "She slept while I saw to the chamber pots."

"The babe has kept her awake most nights. It shall be a most active child." She untied the wide, white apron, revealing the long, maroon skirt underneath. Strands of her golden hair had worked loose from her modest, linen coif cap in the bread-making process. She carefully brushed them back into place, indulging in an extra moment to wipe her flour-dusted face clean.

"You're likely not to see him between here and the house," Hilde said in her merry way. Relena's cheeks burned pink; she immediately dropped her arms. "Oh...Miss Relena...I meant not to chastise you!"

"'Tis alright, Hilde. I was being vain. If Millardo had seen me so occupied when there are chores to be done..." She tried to smile, to reassure her servant friend. "Take care not to let the bread burn; I shall be back to help soon."

On her way out the door, Relena plucked her woolen shawl from the hook set into the log wall. October in the colonies could be a harsh month, though the splendor of the leaves as they changed colors more than made up for it. She stepped out of the lean-to, instantly grateful for the shawl's warmth. A cold wind swept through Sanq Village, chilling her all the way down to her leather shoes. She thought of Heero out in this weather, working a field that wasn't even his own.

Without realizing what she was doing, Relena spun around in a circle, her skirts billowing around her legs. How could merely thinking about him make her so warm inside? She hugged herself and tilted her head back to smile at the clouds.

"Relena."

Her eyes flew open. Just as quickly as sunshine had spread through her, the cold bite of his voice slapped her back into reality. She lowered her chin and came face to face with the town's minister, her older brother, Millardo Peacecraft.

He was a dark thunderstorm in black breeches and a fitted doublet, edged with the proverbial silver lining by his white-blond hair and even whiter collar. His eyes, the same liquid blue as her own, bore into her with unmistakable disappointment.

"Brother." Relena clasped her hands in front of her. "Good morrow."

"Good morrow, sister."

She smiled as demurely as she could. "I was just now coming to the house to..."

"I saw what was occupying your time." His voice rumbled.

"Surely it can't be sinful to enjoy the earth God has given us." Relena looked down at the ground. "Can it?"

Millardo sighed as though the weight of the world was on his broad shoulders. In truth, the burden he bore was heavy; the religious sanctity of the entire village was his responsibility. But in the deepest places of her heart where no one else could see, Relena suspected that rather than be hampered by his load, her brother took pride in it. Pride…against which no one preached louder than he himself.

As she usually did when she had these aberrant thoughts, Relena bit down on her tongue, a tiny penitence so that next time she would remember herself. Her brother provided her with a home now that their parents had died. She owed him everything.

"'Twould not be a sin, Relena, if you enjoyed the earth for God's sake and not for your own. God means us to take pleasure in the world He has given us so that we might better know His wonder and might. Not so that we might draw attention to ourselves."

"I stopped only for a moment to…"

"A moment is a moment too long." Millardo took a step towards her. "Do you think I see not who makes your heart sing these past months?"

Relena lifted her dark fringe of lashes to look at him. "I shall not forget myself again, but also I shall not lie before God and say that you are mistaken."

He shook his head violently. "You know my mind on this. I do not like him."

"Heero is a good man," Relena protested. "Hard-working. Devout. Even now he helps a neighbor when others would tend only to their own work. You cannot deny that."

"There are many good men in this village, Relena. They, much better than he, can give you a home and a family of your own." There was a pause. "Still, I cannot forbid the courtship," he continued, almost to himself. "I shall wait until his bloom fades from your eyes. Until then, Sister, I remind you of this. Give your heart to whomever you choose; 'tis no concern of mine. But your body belongs to God and your future husband. Do you understand?"

Her cheeks burned, not with embarrassment, but with anger. "I have done nothing to shame your house, Brother."

"See that it remains so." Millardo reached out to touch her shoulder in order that he might soften his words, but he might as well have been raising his fist to her. She flinched as his hand approached. He let it drop and took a step back. "Go...tend to Lucy. She felt not well this morn." Relena walked past him without comment. "Good morrow," he repeated, this time in closing rather than greeting.

Once she was completely out of hearing range, he cursed softly to himself. Somehow, no matter how good his intentions were, he always managed to alienate his little sister. Being so far apart in age, it seemed little wonder that they had difficulties finding common ground. But couldn't she see that he only wanted what was best for her? A pious husband, a brood of children to mother, a place in God's Kingdom when she passed on...everything a woman should want from the world.

As he continued on the main road through town, Millardo passed by Goodman Ashcroft's fields. Alongside his guardian's indentured servant, Duo Maxwell, the man his sister had chosen for herself was hard at work harvesting the corn that would help sustain the village through the coming winter months. Both young men had stripped down to their breeches and loose shirts as they pulled husked ears of corn from the plants which were taller even than they.

He moved on a moment later. Heero Yuy was little more than an apprentice to Dr. J; his only status came from this. The doctor's family was rumored to have arrived with the very first English colonists to ever set foot in the New World. There was no way to prove it, but it was at least a well-known fact that his family had lived in these parts for so long that no one could actually remember what their real surname was. To everyone, they were the J's. And the doctor was the last one living.

An apprentice to the village doctor, put out by his own family for this training when he was only eight years old, was not the man Millardo saw as a good husband for his only sister.

A voice broke through his thoughts. "Good morrow, Brother Peacecraft."

Treize Kushrenada approached him from across the main square at the heart of their little town. He wore the same breeches, shirt and waistcoat as any other man, but it was his magistrate's robes that set him above the commoner…even above Millardo himself. In the eyes of God, a village's minister might lead His people, but in the colonies, the magistrate ruled, usually with an iron fist.

"Good morrow, friend," Millardo repeated. There was worry written on the other man's face and a haste to his step that was not usual. "Is something the matter?"

Treize glanced around as though someone might be listening to their conversation. The square was empty, save for a servant who had been left in the stocks overnight on a charge of fornication with a local widow, if Millardo remembered correctly. His partner had been banished. It had been Treize's punishments to dole out; Millardo was only involved in justice at a much higher level.

"Late last night, Goody Howell's cat gave birth to a litter of kittens." He lowered his voice even more. "One of the creatures….was born with two heads."

Millardo blinked. "'Tis not possible."

"'Tis not Godly," Treize corrected him. "The poor woman was near apoplexy; she fled to my house in panic with the thing wrapped in her apron."

"It lives?"

Treize gave him a look. "Nay, Brother. I destroyed it immediately. There shall be no mark of Satan in my village."

Millardo was so preoccupied that he barely acknowledged the man's possession of what, which by all Heavenly accounts, was his. "The wrong has been righted, then."

"Aye. Dr. J ordered bedrest and a tea for Goody Howell. 'Twas all I could do to keep her from destroying the rest of the litter."

"Dr. J knows?"

"He merely thinks she was inflicted with some women's disease."

Millardo rubbed his temple. "'Tis best that we never speak of this again. There is no sense in stirring similar panic." He licked his lips; the whole affair was unsettling…more so even because the woman had not run to him, but to Treize. His power was slipping away day by day. "I shall pray, and at Meeting tonight, lead the village in a sermon on thwarting the Devil's tricks."

Treize nodded his approval. "You do nothing but what is best for us, Brother. I sleep easier with the knowledge that my family answers to God through you and not another." He tipped his magistrate's cap. "Good morrow."

He left Millardo on the steps of the Meeting House with the bitter taste of his veiled sarcasm heavy in his mouth.

****

"I've decided something, mate." With green ears of corn in each of his gloved hands, Duo Maxwell used his bare forearm to wipe sweat off his brow. "I bloody well hate corn."

Heero Yuy glanced over at his servant and sometimes-friend. His colorful language did not shock as Heero suspected he intended it to; having lived on the streets until he was ten, Duo had picked up none of the formality of proper speech. And even now, as he lived and worked to pay off his debts to English society in the New World, he showed no signs of changing his ways.

The story of their tentative friendship was a strange one. Their paths in the world might never have crossed had Duo not stolen a loaf of bread and a bottle of French wine from a shop in the heart of London, been caught, and sold into indentured servitude for a period of no less than ten years. It had been his former master who sailed for the colonies, taking Duo with him. When the old man died, Dr. J had picked up Duo's contract and brought him to Sanq Village to live out the remaining five years of his sentence.

It was there that they had met, two fifteen year old boys without a friend between them. Duo knew not who had brought him into the world, and Heero's parents cared so much about their son that they had sent him clear across the colony as soon as he was breeched to learn the trade of medicine.

At first, they had done nothing but fight, with their fists whenever possible. Dr. J never knew; Heero was certain he would have thought it beneath a Freeman to fight with English street scum. After they had eachwounded each other to the point of scars, their friendship was born and now they often worked side by side, although the villagers never allowed them to forget which one belonged and which one didn't.

But it never seemed to bother Duo. He had two years left on his contract and already he knew exactly what he was going to do the day he received his hard-earned freedom. He was going to marry Hilde Schbeiker.

"If you worked more than you talked, we could be through at midday," Heero reminded him, throwing a husked ear into a basket. There would be a corn-husking before the month ended, a rare chance in the strict village to have a celebration.

"It's not midday yet?!" Duo squinted up at the sun. "Hurry, you!" he ordered it as it inched its way across the sky.

Heero snorted softly. "'Tis a good thing the Heavens answer not to you, Maxwell. We would all go to Hell in a handbasket."

"Oh, you said 'Hell,' Master Yuy." The way he said the title fairly dripped with mockery. "Clearly you're going to see it, now."

Duo's disdain for Puritanism was not a secret, but because he was little better than an Indian in the eyes of the Church, no one particularly cared as long as he stood in the back of the Meeting House on Wednesdays and Sundays and broke none of the village laws. Truth be told, Heero had his own doubts about the wrathful God Millardo Peacecraft warned his parishioners to fear, but he had been brought up to never question anything a minister said.

"I shall see you there then," Heero replied flippantly.

His friend laughed as he scratched the back of his head, working his fingers into his thick braid of hair. Because Duo didn't belong, the grooming rules that governed the other men of the village never applied to him. Not that he would have cut his hair even if they had; he'd have rather spent a week in the stocks than touch a single lock with a knife. "Ah, you'd never be happy in Hell with us sinners, Master Yuy. The minister's lovely sister surely wouldn't be there. And what fun would that be for you?"

Heero's fist grew tight, but it was nothing compared to the tightness in the rest of his body whenever Relena was even casually mentioned within his hearing. The problem was, as soon as he started thinking about her, he couldn't get her out of his mind. And he'd be ruined for the rest of the day, unable to concentrate on his chores, his training, his prayers. She was that deep into his heart. He looked down at an ear of corn he had just ripped from one stalk; the silk inside always reminded him of her hair, although it could never come close to shining like hers. She always shone...the one bright spot in a village, no, a world of greys and browns.

Duo knew just what buttons to press, Heero had to admit. The braided man just kept picking corn, a jaunty, unashamed smile on his face. He had secrets of his own that Heero faithfully kept, but he could never resist a little jab. Because he knew, as only a friend could, that Heero would take those secrets to the grave no matter what.

There was only one way to handle this situation. Dropping the corn in his hands, Heero advanced for the first punch.

****

Hilde found them thirty minutes later, each one covered from handsome head to toe in fresh dirt and what would be even fresher bruises. They were out of breath, sweaty, smelly and happy. She shook her head and set down the water bucket and dipper she had dragged all the way from the Peacecraft house.

"Are you not a bit old to be rolling in the dirt like children just out of nappies?" she asked, setting her hands on her cinched waist.

Duo crawled to his feet, his smile huge and just a tad bit bloody. "He started it, love."

Warmth crept into her stomach. It was impossible to even pretend to be vexed with him, especially when he called her that. His love. Yes, she was that. She had fallen hard for his strangely compelling violet eyes from the day she had first seen him in the back of the Meeting House almost two years past. Since then, she took too much pleasure in looking at his sinful physique with its long, lean lines and muscles that even his coarsely woven clothes couldn't hide.

Her cheeks burned; she didn't have to imagine what he might look like underneath his breeches and shirt anymore. Even if they were never allowed to be together like that again, she would never forget. She would also never forget that the opportunity had been created and secreted by the man who now stood up next to Duo, raking dirt and grass out of his chocolate mop of hair.

Hilde had to hand it to her friend, Relena. Excepting Duo, of course, she had certainly picked the best the village had to offer in terms of young, unmarried men.

"Should I let the pair of you continue or would you care for a draught of water?" She gestured to the bucket.

Duo's eyes lit up and he grabbed the dipper. After drinking his fill, he wiped his now muddy lips clean. "You're a god-send, Hilde Schbeiker, that you are."

"'Twas not entirely my own idea." Her gaze slipped over to Heero as he drank with much more finesse than his friend. "Miss Relena gave me leave, as well as drawing the water herself."

It pleased her to see Heero choke on the rim of the wooden dipper. He coughed before asking, "Did she not accompany you?"

"She tends to her sister at the house," Hilde replied. "Rest assured that were it possible, she would have come herself."

Heero shot a look at Duo who wriggled both of his eyebrows all too suggestively. He scowled. "'Tis no matter," he said, unable to convince anyone, even himself. "I shall see her at Meeting." He added this underhis breath as he got back to work on the nearest corn stalk he could reach.

Duo shook his head. "He's grateful for the water, love, truly. As am I."

"'Twas the least I could do." She clasped her hands in front of her. "When I caught glimpse of you heading to the field..." Her words trailed off.

"I saw you, too," Duo said in a low, heavy voice. "Picking vegetables...on your hands and knees." He reached for one small, pale hand. "You made it very hard..." He smiled lasciviously. "...to think about picking corn, that is."

She had blushed before; now her cheeks were positively painted red. "Duo Maxwell," she hissed, all too aware of Heero's presence. "You're like to find yourself burning for those sort of thoughts."

"I already know I'm going to burn, love." He raised her fingers up and sucked one sweet digit into his mouth for a brief second. "Ought to have some fun while I can, yes?"

Hilde wasn't sure she had knees anymore, although she must have because she was still standing. Barely, though. He'd melted her into a pool of wanton woman under the absent light of a new moon in a small clearing he and Heero had found in the woods. Now he seemed determined to do it again in broad daylight in the middle of a cornfield. With Heero trying very hard not to look on.

She pulled her hand back. "You're dangerous," she whispered. "You make me wish...for things I can't have."

His eyes clouded over. He might not have believed in anything, but Hilde was a Christian woman. She had given him the greatest gift anyone ever had: her trust, her love, and her virginity. And what had he given her in return? Nothing. As an indentured servant, it was forbidden for him to get married. It was his fault that she had to break the laws of God and man to be with him in the way they both wanted so badly.

"Two years left," he promised. "I swear...I'll marry you the day I get to tear up that damnable contract." When he saw tears in her eyes, he pressed her hand to his chest. "I love you."

He was so warm through his dirt-streaked shirt; she could feel his heart beating, strong and fast. Without thinking, she pushed him back into the rows of corn plants until they were well-hidden. Hilde tugged on his collar, drawing his mouth down to meet hers. The kiss smoldered, like the fires of Hell she was sure loving him like this was going to send her to someday.

"I shall wait for you," she breathed against his cheek. "Two years or twenty." She kissed him one last time. "I love you, too." He reached out for her, silently pleading with her to stay. But Hilde disappeared through the corn.

When he had gathered his wits, and cooled down enough not to embarrass himself, Duo stepped back out into the open row where Heero still worked. Hilde was long gone, having taken her bucket with her. He cleared his throat and reached for the nearest ear he could find without really looking. Silence deafened him as they worked for several long minutes.

Finally, it became too much for Duo. "I know what I'm doing, all right?! I'm not leading her astray...she loves me and that's the best thing I've got in my life right now."

Heero tossed an armful into their basket. "Did I say a word?"

"You wanted to."

"'Tis your guilty conscience with which you must settle accounts, Maxwell. I have my own guilt to bear. 'Twas I who arranged the assignation for you."

Duo yanked at an ear, ripping away half of its mother stalk with it in his anger. "It's your lot's bloody rules that keep me from being with her as true man and wife! Besides..." He threw the corn with enough force to break open its husk and picked up the basket to move down the row. "You know I'd do the same for you if you asked."

Heero's eyes crashed like waves in a stormy ocean. "Mind your thoughts where Relena is concerned. I'd rather Indians slit my throat than take her in the woods like a..."

"Common servant?" Duo's laughter was laced with bitterness. "Heaven forbid." Before Heero could reply, Duo had shoved the heavy load into his arms and walked away, flipping his friend an irreverent finger when he called for him to come back.

****

"Satan is everywhere."

Once he was sure that every single eye in the Meeting House was on him, Millardo continued. "He is the greatest of tricksters. He hides himself in the places where you would least expect him." He tapped a long finger against his temple and then his chest. "Your mind. Your heart. Your evil thoughts are his wine; the dark places in your heart, his bread. If you let him, he will feed on you until you are nothing..." He glanced at one young man in the front row, Trowa Barton. "...but his pawn." His eyes slipped to the boy's sister, Catherine. "His bride. I say this not to frighten you...but to warn you." He shook his head. "Only through your humility and everlasting devotion to God could you possibly survive against the great pretender."

Relena shuddered slightly. Her brother was nothing if not intense. Next to her on the wooden bench, his wife, Lucrezia, shifted, searching for a comfortable position. Unfortunately, being six and a half months pregnant, nothing was comfortable for her. Relena glanced over at her. "Is there anything I can do for you, Sister?" she asked quietly.

"Nay." Lucrezia smile was tight, but warm. "I need only to walk about a bit. But 'tis rather impossible at the moment."

Up at the crudely carved podium, her husband continued his sermon. "I read to you now from the gospel of Matthew, chapter thirteen, verse nineteen." Millardo glanced down at his well-worn Bible. "When one hears the word of the Kingdom of Heaven and understands it not, the evil one comes..." He paused for effect. "He snatches away what God has sown in the heart." He closed up the book. "My brothers and sisters, heed the Son of God's warning. Look to your hearts, weed out whatever pieces Satan might use against you, and live in the light of God."

Duo wanted desperately to snort out loud, but he merely leaned back against the log wall, folded his arms, closed his eyes and waited for the sermon to be done. In her own seat right behind the Peacecraft women, Hilde kept her eyes on her lap, certain that if she even dared look at her employer as he spoke, he might be able to see right through her and know her heart. Heero had stopped paying attention almost from the moment Millardo had started speaking. A golden coil of hair peeked out from Relena's coif cap and all he could think about was running his fingers through it. If that was evil, so be it.

In the front row, Treize smiled to himself. Millardo Peacecraft knew how to work a crowd. The trouble was, he truly believed everything he was evangelizing. And for that, he was a fool twice over. On the surface, where it counted the most, Treize feared and loved God as much as any other Christian. But it wasn't God who controlled the world of men. It was men themselves who governed one another. Men like him. Men who mattered.

He glanced down at his young daughter's modestly combed red hair, a parting gift from her mother who had died the day Mariemaia was born. He had not had much luck with women in his life. His first wife dead in childbirth, his second...well, what could he say about his second wife? Anne was as dead to the town as Mariemaia's mother.

And unless anyone dared to venture into the attic of his spacious, stone home on the top of the hill, overlooking Sanq Village, no one would ever suspect otherwise. Chained up, the way a woman ought to be. For him and him alone.

At the podium, Millardo bowed his head and led the people in a lengthy prayer. When he lifted his head again, he nodded gravely. "Go in peace to love and serve the Lord."

No sooner than the words were out of his mouth than a great flash blinded the entire House. White hot light burned through the glass panes on the windows for only a fraction of an instant. A wave of panic tore through the people as they rose out of their seats. Women gasped, children sobbed, frightened beyond all reason.

Millardo put his hands up. "'Tis only lightning," he called out.

But no one was paying attention. Treize rose to his feet and started out the side door to investigate, using his iron key to unlock it. Meetings were mandatory; no one was to leave in the middle of one. A stream of villagers followed after him once the doors were opened.

Heero was at Relena's side as soon as possible. "Are you well?" he asked her and her brother's wife. Lucrezia nodded, but put a hand to her round belly.

"'Twas lightning, Heero," Relena said, suddenly tipsy on the clean, soap smell of him. "Millardo said so."

He frowned. "There was nary a cloud in the sky when the Meeting began."

A shrill scream pierced the air. Without hesitating, Heero bolted for the door. "Stay here," he called back to Relena. He could feel Duo behind him; the lightning surely hadn't stirred his formidable Cockney blood, but the painful scream certainly had. They emerged out of the Meeting House into the pre-dark of dusk. There was no rain. Heero tilted his head back; the stars were clearly visible.

But in the middle of the square, around which most of the village was now gathered, a fire raged in the dead center of a burned circle of stone. The stocks, the man sitting in them...struck by a single bolt from out of nowhere.

Heero wanted to look away, but he couldn't stop staring at the man's body as it burned. He could hear Duo choking at the smell of searing flesh, but all he did was back up slowly until he reached the Meeting House doors.

A whisper of conversation caught his ear above the roar of the flames and cries of the people. He glanced to his right. In the weak light, he could just make out the stony figures of the minister and the magistrate. Licking his lips, he strained to hear what they were saying....and regretted it as soon as he could.

"He's here," Millardo said, pulling at his collar. "In our village. I've failed...I've failed to stop him."

Treize replied harshly, "We will find the person who has brought the Devil into our midst. And when we do..." He looked at the melting man he had put in the stocks. "May God have mercy on their souls."

****

It had begun. She smiled with much glee, her naked body luminescent in the star's light. Soft, fall leaves carpeted her feet as she danced, her hair flowing over her shoulders. She cupped her breasts in her hands, offering herself as thanks. He had come. He had come to make them all pay.

****

To Be Continued