“Very sensible.” Dupree tightened the noose about her wrists and then wound the rope around her torso. “But if you weren’t sensible, you’d be out in the courtyard with the rest, wouldn’t you? Come over here beneath the steps.” He sheathed the sword and jerked her into the dark recess beneath the staircase. He passed the rope three times around the fifth step before knotting it. “That should be adequate. Now, all you have to do is stand here and wait for me.” He leaned forward and patted her cheek and then stopped to stroke it. “What soft skin. Don’t scream or you’ll attract some of those crude fellows in the courtyard. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”
She didn’t answer, surreptitiously testing the thick ropes binding her wrists.
“No, we wouldn’t want that.” Dupree moved toward the door to the north courtyard, his steps precise, mincing. He opened the door and the light from the torches in the courtyard allowed her to get her first clear look at him. He reminded her of a cat with his thin, triangular face and slightly slanted hazel eyes. Even his body was catlike, small, wiry almost to the point ofscrawniness. Instead of the rough loose trousers and coarse shirts of the men in the courtyard, he was dressed in an elegant light blue coat trimmed in gold brocade and dark blue knee breeches.“Au revoir, Citizeness. I’ll return as soon as I can lure these good men from their pleasure to their duty in starting the trials.”
He shut the door firmly behind him.
Trial. It was the second time Dupree had mentioned a trial. Juliette dismissed the thought as she concentrated on her own predicament. The ropes were too strong to break and the knots dismayingly secure.
She bent her head forward and began to gnaw with her teeth at the loop of the rope wound around the step.
There were men in the south courtyard too!
Catherine skidded to a stop halfway across the courtyard and shrank into the shadow of the tall cistern. She’d thought the courtyard was deserted but there was no mistaking the sound of a woman sobbing and masculine laughter coming from the direction of the passage linking the north and south courtyards.
The gate seemed a hundred miles away as she glanced longingly at it. The atrocity going on seemed to be limited to four or five men gathered around the supine body of a nude woman, but she couldn’t risk one of them glancing toward the gate.
She could tell by the pleas, sobs, and prayers tumbling in an indiscriminate stream from the woman’s lips that she was one of the nuns but she didn’t know which one. Sister Thérèse? Sister Hélène? It would be a sin not to help that poor woman.
Catherine took an impulsive step forward and then stopped in an agony of indecision. She had the right to risk herself but not Juliette. If Juliette saw Catherine in trouble, she knew she would forget every practical argument and rush to save her. Juliette had great confidence in her own abilities and was more gallant than she knew herself to be. A choice. She and Juliette or that poor woman being assaulted by those beasts?
She fell to her knees by the cistern, trying to close out both the sobs of the woman and the coarse remarks of the men. She would wait and hope they would leave the courtyard quickly after they were done with the nun.
She closed her eyes, her lips forming the silent words of prayer. Sweet Jesus, deliver us from evil…
Where was Juliette? Had she seen the men and remained in the bell tower, waiting for them to begone?
Go to Sister Bernadette, Juliette had said. Yes, she’d be safe in the tomb. Why had she ever been afraid of the dead when life was so much more savage? She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop the shudders racking her body.
Please come, Juliette. I’m so alone.
Mary, Mother of God, let them not find me.
Let Juliette be safe.
Let all those poor women stop suffering.
“Well, what do we have here?”
The sudden shout caused Catherine’s heart to lurch sickeningly.
“How very naughty. You shouldn’t have dragged her out of the courtyard around here. You know the agreement. We’re all to share and share alike.”
There was a burst of laughter from one of the men. “There’s not much to share. She’s only a stringy old crow of a woman.”
“Still, she belongs with the rest of the spoils.”
Catherine leaned forward to venture a swift glance around the curve of the cistern. She could make out two silhouettes moving toward the men. Whoever the new arrivals were, they seemed to be in positions of authority.
“Now, stop ramming her and bring her back to the courtyard.”
There was a grumbling among the men, but they began to stir from the spread-eagled body of the nun. “Get up, whore.”
“She won’t move.” A coarse chuckle. “You see? She doesn’t want to go back to the rest. She likes us.”
“Then carry her.”
More grumbling, then the naked woman was lifted by one of the brawnier men and carried toward the twomen waiting in the shadows. “What difference does it make? There are plenty of women to go around.”
