"Don't" Cassandra moaned, thrashing wildly in the bed. "Don't burn the church, William, please, don't burn the church"

"Cassandra? Cassandra love, wake up!"

Cassandra's eyes opened with a pop, her breathing ragged, as she tried to take in her surroundings. It was dark, with only the barest hint of light coming in from the moon. She was in bed, her husband's arms around her as he tried to bring her back from the dream in which she had been trapped. Cassandra's breath came out in gasps as she came down from the nightmare, clutching at William's chest and burying her face into him.

"Just a dream" she said with tears in her eyes. "It was just a dream…."

"A dream?" William repeated, running his hands over her hair, "About burning a church?"

Cassandra looked up and into the worried face of her husband. She couldn't tell him the truth, not yet, not this way, so she only nodded.

"I dreamed that you set fire to a church…. With the people…. The people locked inside. You wouldn't do that would you William?" she asked, her heart already knowing the answer.

"Of course not love" William replied quickly, giving her a gentle squeeze. "I am a man of honor"

Cassandra nodded, and closed her eyes, not trusting herself to speak farther on the matter. She was well aware of what the history books said about her new husband. They called him "The Butcher". She knew all about his cruel deeds, from killing wounded soldiers and burning houses, to setting fire to a church full of people shortly before being wounded in one battle, and killed in another not long after. She knew it was going to happen, but she had no idea how to prevent it.

Cassandra closed her eyes, tilting her head up and finding her husband's mouth with hers. She needed his comfort now, his touch, more than she could stand. How could she not when she knew they had so little time left to one another?

Later, William lay in bed; Cassandra curled up, her head on his chest, her hand over his heart, thinking about what she had told him of her dream. Idly, he played with a lock of her hair as he considered his thus failed attempts at locating Benjamin Martin's whereabouts.

'Burn the church' Tavington thought with a cruel, calculating smile. His wife had just given him a remarkable idea….