"What do you think?" Lord Montgomery asked his prisoner. "Is this really where you want to end your days?"

Dr Hart tried not to shiver. Given that he was clad only in his undershirt and the stone-walled cell was beyond the reach of the sun's warmth, such a reaction would have been understandable. However, he did not want to show anything that might be interpreted as a sign of fear. Montgomery was known for his ability to exploit any perceived weakness in his victims, and to use it to extract whatever he wanted from them. So, Dr Hart drew himself upright and looked the king's torturer in the eye. "Sir, it would not be my choice to meet my end here. But, if it must be?"

Lord Montgomery chuckled. "Bravo, my good doctor. But I have persuaded stronger men than you." He kicked at a square, oak board that had been propped against a nearby wall, close by a number of iron weights. "I doubt that you could take a hundredweight for more than a minute. What do you think?" This last remark was addressed to the two swordsmen who were standing either side of the doctor. They did not respond.

"I still refuse to plead," Hart said defiantly.

The torturer shook his head, setting the wobbling folds of fat around his neck in motion. "Your crimes carry the death penalty - but if you confess, your death will be swift and clean. Not drawn-out, as this one will be." Montgomery dropped his bantering tone. "Come, man!" he bellowed. "Spare your family this indignity!"

"So that you can claim my house and property? So that you can reduce my family to penury?" Doctor Hart lowered his gaze. "For the last time, I refuse to plead."

"Very well. Peine forte et dure it shall be." The nobleman pointed to a set of shackles bolted to the stone flags of the floor. "Secure him."

The two armed men quickly and efficiently stretched Dr Hart on the floor, securing his limbs with the shackles so that was spread out like a starfish. Then they took the oak board and placed it on his chest. The doctor offered no resistance.

Lord Montgomery drew up a short, wooden stool and sat on it, his ample behind spilling over the sides. He turned to the swordsmen. "Begin with a stone. Let the good doctor have a taste of what is to come."

The first of the iron weights was laid on the board, and Dr Hart felt the pressure on his chest. It was not painful - merely stifling and uncomfortable for now - but he knew its effect would grow with time.

Lord Montgomery leant forward so that his piggish eyes were staring hungrily at Dr Hart. "I am hanging on your every word," the torturer said.