Questions before she is taken

With her dress removed and her hands shackled, Bishop Anthryl decided to give this lovely maiden one more chance to save herself.

"Hang her." It is a sad testament to how many times similar scenes had occurred in this room that the guardsmen knew exactly what the bishop meant. A hook on the wall might have held a rich tapestry under past administrators, but in Bishop Antrhyl's years a different kind of decoration adorned the wall of this private room. With practiced ease the guardsmen dragged her to the hook and hoisted her manacled arms up onto the black iron hook. Because of her diminutive size, even when Christine stood on her tiptoes, the manacles around her wrists were stretched painfully. The corrupt bishop didn't appear to care about her comfort, if anything she got the impression that her liked seeing her like this. With a nod of his head, the bishop dismissed his guardsmen and turned his attention to the frightened young woman before him.

He preferred to see these prideful bitches undress on their own, especially if they were born into families of standing. He had more than a few daughters of knights and wealthy merchants take off their clothes as they begged him for forgiveness, but not even in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine that the only daughter of Baron Bartholomew would ever fall into his hands. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he approached her hanging body.

"The Devil has corrupted your heart and turned you away from the Son of God."

"No, Your Reverence, I am pure in heart as well as body." Christine tried to turn her body to hide her shame, but Anthryl would have none of it. He pushed her back against the rough wall and roughly groped her breasts through the sheer fabric of her inner tunic.

"I don't think so, Lady Christine." Bishop Anthryl could feel his already hard penis stiffen in excitement. "I think you are a shameful Jezabell flaunting your charms and tempting men with your beauty." As he spoke, he pulled her slip to the side and his dark eyes stared hungrily at the circle of pink that capped her creamy breast. Not satisfied with this modest glimpse of her womanly charms, the bishop spent the next minute lifting her smock all the way over her head and up her arms until he could hang the bundled garment from the same hook as his victim. Once stripped of her last garment the natural consequences of the past few days became apparent.

"Look at this filth that covers your supposed pure flesh. Is your inner soul as smudged as your outer skin?" Christine knew that the fine grit that covered her body was the mud from the castle moat, but there was no point in trying to explain; instead, she closed her eyes and tried to pretend this nightmare wasn't happening. For the next few minutes, the good bishop of Oldchester was interested only in examining her naked flesh; there was no part of her that was spared, the bishop even wormed his fingers into her holy-of-holies and his pleased chuckle when he found her maidenhead intact did little to ease her mind.

"It appears the rumors are indeed true. You did escape before Prince Henry could complete his triumphant overthrow of your family." Anthryl cackled in excitement, it would be he and not their new king who would be the one to crack open this perfect shell. As if the mentioning of the Bastard Prince's name broke the spell he was under, Christine felt the corrupt bishop remove his hands and step back to admire her hanging form.

"I wonder if the other rumors from Castle Gerard are true as well?"

Christine could hear the bishop's muttered words, but they meant little to her at the moment. Her arms ached already and although the early morning sunlight streaming in from the Eastern window was warm, there was a coldness in this room that not even the brightest of bonfires could drive away. The worst part of the ordeal was to feel her own body betray her as the awful man's fingers had touched her where no man before had ever dared lay his hands. She prayed silently that Bishop Anthryl might not notice the tightening of her nipples or the way her insides had warmed where his fingers had probed.

"There is still a chance to save your soul, my child." Bishop Anthryl's voice softened somewhat into what, under different circumstances, might be considered parental. "Answer my questions truthfully, and all will be well." Christine should have been relieved by the pronouncement and even more so that the bishop's hands were no longer on her, but she detected a cunningness in the cleric's voice that made her warry.

"Where is your brother, my Dear?" Bishop Anthryl asked in a tone that was too casual considering she was hanging naked in his private chamber, "Even if there is no hope for your sinful body, the Church will take the boy in and see that he is safe." Protection for Erik was exactly what Christine had hoped for when she first entered this holy cathedral, but not like this. The Bishop of Oldchester had revealed his corrupt nature, and every instinct told her that she could not trust this false cleric. Christine lifted her eyes to meet Anthryl's gaze and for the first time in her young life, she lied to a representative of the Holy Church.

"We were separated in the dark, I do not know where he is." The bishop's sympathetic sigh could be one of shared concern but could just as well be a sign of his disappointment.

"I've heard reports that your father's baronial ring is missing along with his son." Now Christine's alarm was fully aroused, and it takes every ounce of strength to keep her face expressionless. Thank the Holy Mother that she had the foresight to secrete her father's ring before her audience with this vile man. "Do you know where the ring is?"

"No, your Eminence." She kept her answer as brief as possible, fully aware that the bishop's gaze must be scrutinizing her for any sign of deceit. Perhaps in spite of her best efforts the man picked up on the slight hesitation in her voice because his voice took on a far more menacing tone.

"Are your sure about that, Lady Gerard?" As if to punctuate the seriousness of the situation his fingers returned to her left nipple, and he twisted it hard enough to make her whimper. "Prince Henry believes that you and your brother stole the ring from your father before you fled. His Black Crows are scouring high and low for any sign of you." He pinched her nipple again, this time even harder making her cry out again. "If the Church is going to offer you sanctuary, my daughter, you must be completely open with me." Christine could not believe how sensitive her puckered tips could be, but now more than ever she knew that she did not dare say anything to this man.

"Please, your Eminence." She gasped out, "I cannot tell you what I do not know." Some small part of her took consolation in the fact that this at least was a truthful statement. I her heart she knew it was too much to hope that Bishop Anthryl would believe her and let her go, but surely God could not allow an innocent to suffer so.