Interrogation

Christine didn't know how long she spent in the darkness. Long enough to recite a complete rosary, but not hours and hours, and thankfully not long enough to have to close her eyes. The idea of having to sleep while rats and roaches crawl over her slumped body makes her shudder. It was helpless, she couldn't believe how far her fate in life has fallen. Just three days ago she was Lady Gerard, oldest daughter of Baron Gerard favorite advisor to the King, and now she was dressed in rags, covered in filth and chained in a dank dark hole.

Maybe she should have tried to please Bishop Anthryl like he wanted. The thought made her stomach turn, but in spite of the sick feeling she felt even more upset knowing that she had failed in her promise to her father. Failed in every way. As much as she wanted to do the right thing to set Erik on the path to knighthood, every single one of her decisions had been wrong. If she had allowed that fat bishop to ... she couldn't even start to think about it. She tried to be strong, but alone in the dark it was just too much, and she felt the tears start to trickle down her face.

Above her the trap door opened with a creak and light flooded into the darkness and then the underground cellar dimmed again as the frame of a large man filled opening. The wooden steps creaked under the man's weight and as he approached Christine realized that he wasn't just large, he was enormous. The man in heavy woolen robes towered over her by almost two feet and must have weighed almost three times her seven stone.

"Good." His voice was a low rumble from under his cowl, "you are awake little one." In spite of his size the man moved with surprising grace and before she could react to his sudden arrival, he grabbed her by the chain around her wrist and with one hand lifted her to her feet. "There, there milady. There is no need to fear; you and I are going to become very close."

"Please, there's been a mistake ..."

"No mistake, my dear, we have a mutual friend who sent me to ask you a few easy questions." In the darkness, the man's face was nearly completely hidden by the cowl, but Christine sensed a cruel smile in the shadows. "Our friend wants to know where your young brother is."

"I don't know, Sir." Christine realized with a sinking heart that Bishop Anthryl wanted Erik and not for any benevolent reason. "We got separated." Even to her own ears the answer sounded weak.

"Oh, I'm no knight, milady," his coarse chuckle made her shudder, "You may call me Brother Bertram when you answer, but you may not lie." With the last word Bertram ripped the threadbare linen rag completely off of her as easily as a scullery maid might swipe away a spiderweb from the rafters. "I've found that young women," Bertram went on conversationally, "especially highborn maidens like you, are more likely to be cooperative when they are stripped of every last stitch of clothing." His rough hand slid down her side to rest on her hip and he stooped lower, so his lips were brushing against her hair, "you are going to cooperate, aren't you?"

"I cannot tell you what I do not know, Brother Bertram." Perhaps because of the truth to the statement, Christine's answer was more confident than her earlier denial and the human giant stepped back laughing softly.

"Then it will be a long night for you, Lady Gerard." He paused, almost as if he were trying to help her, "perhaps if you tell me about your father's Baronial ring I can bring that little bauble to our friend, he might find it in his heart to spare you the worst of what must be done..."

"There is nothing I can tell you, Brother." Christine closed her eyes and offered a silent prayer to Mother Mary. She could only imagine what kind of **** she might have to endure, but no amount of pain or humiliation could ever make her betray her brother or the trust placed in her by her father. The only consolation she could find in this whole awful nightmare was that as a man of holy orders, Brother Bertram would not be likely to defile her like the guards who were all too eager to grope her delicate curves.

Of course, Bishop Anthryl was also a man of God, and it was pretty clear what that lecherous pig wanted from her chaste untouched body.