and screeching. The birds tried to fly away, only to fall to the floor, flapping helplessly.
Feral dogs appeared from the open doorway and proceeded to trap the birds, inhaling them with grunts of pleasure. Madeleine watched in horror as they rapidly devoured the decaying meal. Within moments, the dogs had finished off the feast, looking for something more to whet their appetites. They seemed to catch Madeleine’s scent and she began backing away from them, her mouth dry, her pulse pounding.
The pack rushed her and she screamed and ran to the doors. She passed through and slammed them shut, wincing as the dogs threw their massive bodies against the heavy panels.
She raced back to where the guests were, her limp much more pronounced now. She arrived disheveled, her hair streaming down her back. She must warn her guests of the rabid animals.
Suddenly, the strains of music within the hall ceased. The lights dimmed. Everyone turned their attention to the top of the staircase. Madeleine followed their stares.
A lone figure stood poised there, dressed in black from head to foot, his face in shadow. Madeleine sensed an innate evil emanating from the man. Slowly, he began descending the stairs.
She knew he was coming for her.
The throng buzzed now, their words indistinguishable. The man moved steadily down the steps but she was frozen in place, helpless to move. When he got to the bottom, he moved in her direction. The way parted until he reached her. Suddenly, the light was brilliant, almost blinding her, but she suddenly recognized him.
Henri.
She exclaimed, “Henri! The feast has been ruined. The food is not edible. The dogs. Oh, God, the dogs! Henri—”
“Silence!” He placed his hands on her shoulders, his fingers tightening against her tender flesh.
“Henri, not here,” she begged. “Not in front of—”
“Our guests? Come now, Madeleine, they all realize that you must be disciplined.” Henri smiled at the visitors. “Surely you see I must do something about her?”
Murmurs of assent echoed throughout the hall. Madeleine tried to tear free but Henri’s grasp held firm, causing her to cringe.
“Lady de Picassaret is so perfect.”
“Henri’s wife is so clever, so amusing.”
“De Picassaret has his hands full with that one.”
Madeleine heard fragments of the comments. The voices in the room grew louder and louder, as did their laughter. She managed to break free from Henri’s hold and stumble across the hall, watching as the faces of the guests changed. Gone were the placid features she had first seen. Instead, their countenances took on a macabre quality, twisting and melting.
She tried to open the door and escape but it was locked. She rattled the knob with all her strength, to no avail. Turning, she saw the strange creatures closing in on her, led by the dark, solemn figure of Henri.
“You must be disciplined, Madeleine. No good will come to you unless you are properly corrected. Come here, my dearest, and take your punishment with grace.”
She screamed and screamed, but no one heard her.
*
Madeleine awoke with a start, a cool sheen of sweat covering her brow. She had dreamed of Henri again. Her hands were clammy. Fear had left a sour taste on her tongue. Would it be like this forever? Would thoughts of Henri always haunt her dreams?
Pushing her tangled hair from her face, she sat up, having no idea of the time and knowing she must start back. There were still two more performances that day. She prayed she hadn’t missed one. She hurried back through the forest and into the swarm of people, soon arriving at the stage, her lute in hand.
“Sweet Jesu, girl, it’s about time you showed your face,” grumbled Farley. “I thought you’d abandoned us.”
“No, Farley, I’d not do that.” She placed a kiss upon his brow. “You’ve been much too kind to me.”
The burly man blushed hotly. “Then be kind to our audience and work your magic,” he told her, muttering to himself as he walked away.
Madeleine scanned the crowd, but she caught no sight of Lord Montayne or his companion. With mixed feelings, she prepared to begin her song. Before she struck the first note, Evan pulled at her tunic.
“Maddie?” he whispered loudly. “Mama needs ye. She’s awful bad, she is.”
Before she could reply, Osbert slipped in next to her. “’Tis bad off she is, Madeleine. Elspeth’s been with her. She sent me to fetch you.”
Madeleine appeared torn. “But Farley—”
Osbert snorted. “Forget about Farley. Elspeth will deal with him. You’re needed for more important things.”
“But York—”
York appeared as she spoke. His