Chapter 8

Jean de Carrouges was in a darkened stone chamber that smelled of mold and dead things. The damp walls and floor amplified the cold in the room, which chilled Jean’s naked body to its core. He tried to move, but heavy chains secured him to large iron rings in the wall at each ankle and wrist.

He attempted to cry out, but his throat was dry, his lips parched. He could hear laughter in the distance, echoing off the stone walls of his prison. “You are a fool, Jean de Carrouges,” came the deathly voice of his first wife, Jeanne.

“Let me go!” He shouted. “I have done nothing wrong!”

Again the laughter came, louder and nearer this time. “She is with him!” cackled the voice.

“No! No, she is not!”

“You are a fool! You made her kiss him!”

Jean jerked at his chains in vain, trying desperately to free himself. “No! I have a plan! I wanted him to see what he cannot have!”

“Oh, he saw it! But, now you have woken the demon, and he lusts for her! Innocent Marguerite! Sweet, pure, Marguerite!”

“Don’t say her name, you whore!” Jean shouted at the shadows. “You do not deserve to speak her name!”

The cackling laughter cut into Jeans’ soul. “He will have her! You cannot stop it!”