Terry Goodkind - Wizard's First Rule

“Mistress Denna,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

The steel returned to her eyes. She nodded. “You will be. There is no one who will help you. That includes me. You will find that being the mate to a Mord-Sith brings you no added privileges, only a great deal of added pain.”

Richard hung helpless in the shackles, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. Understanding her a little only increased his hopelessness. There was no escape for him. He was the mate of a madwoman.

The frown and the smile returned. “Why would you be so foolish as to do what you did? Surely, you must know I will hurt you for doing it.”

He looked at her puzzlement for a moment. “Mistress Denna, what difference does it make? You are going to hurt me anyway. I can’t imagine what more you could do to me.”

Her lip curled in a sneer. “Oh, my love, you have a very limited imagination.”

He felt her grab the tongue of his belt and yank the buckle open.

She gritted her teeth. “It is time we found some new places on you to hurt. It is time to see what you are really made of.” The look in her eyes made him go cold. “Thank you, my love, for giving me the excuse to do this to you. I have never before done it to another, but it has been done to me enough times. It is what broke me when I was fourteen. Tonight,” she whispered, “neither of us is going to get any sleep.”

The bucketful of cold water on his naked flesh barely revived him. He only dimly saw the little rivers of water that were stained bright red as they ran away from him in the cracks of the stone floor his face lay against. Each shallow breath he took was a mighty effort. He wondered idly how many of his ribs she had broken.

“Put your clothes on. We’re leaving,” she called down to him.

“Yes, Mistress Denna,” he whispered, his voice so hoarse from screaming he knew she couldn’t hear him, and knew she would hurt him for not answering, and yet he could do no more.

When the Agiel didn’t come, he moved a little, saw his boot and reached out to it, pulling it to him. He sat up, but couldn’t raise his head above his shoulders. It hung limply. With great difficulty, he started putting on his boot. Gashes on his feet brought tears to his eyes when he pulled.

Her knee to his jaw knocked him flat on his back. She fell on him, sitting on his chest, hitting his face with her fists.

“What’s the matter with you! Are you stupid? Your pants go on before your boots! Do I have to tell you everything!”

“Yes Mistress Denna, no Mistress Denna, forgive me Mistress Denna, thank you Mistress Denna for hurting me, thank you Mistress Denna for teaching me,” he mumbled.

She sat on his chest, panting in rage. Her breathing slowed after a time.

“Come on, I will help you.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Come on, my love. You’ll be able to rest while we travel.”

“Yes, Mistress Denna.” The sound of his voice was hardly more than a breath.

She kissed him again. “Come on, my love. It will be better, now that I have broken you. You will see.”

A closed carriage stood waiting for them in the dark. Clouds from the horses’ breath rose and drifted slowly in the cold, still air. Richard stumbled a few times as he walked behind her, trying to keep the proper slack to the chain. He had absolutely no idea how long it had been since she had decided he was to be her mate, nor did it matter to him. A guard opened the carriage door.

Denna tossed the end of his chain on the floor. “Get in.”

Richard grabbed the sides of the door. He dimly heard someone approach in a huff. Denna gave a little tug to the chain, indicating she wanted him to wait where he was.

“Denna!” It was the Queen, at the head of her advisors.

“Mistress Denna,” she corrected.

The Queen looked to be in a foul mood. “Where do you think you are going with him?”

“That is none of your concern. It is time we were on our way. How is the Princess?”

The Queen glowered. “We don’t know if she will live. I will be taking the Seeker. He is to pay.”

“The Seeker is the property of myself and of Master Rahl. He is being punished, and will continue to be punished until either Master Rahl, or myself, kills him. There is nothing you could do to him that could equal what is already being done.”

“He is to be executed. Right now.”

Denna’s voice was as cold as the night air. “Go back to your castle, Queen Milena, while you still have a castle.”

Richard saw a knife in the Queen’s hand. The guard standing next to him unhooked his battle-axe, gripping it tightly in his fist. There was a crystal clear moment of silence.

The Queen backhanded Denna and lunged with the knife for Richard. Denna effortlessly caught her with the Agiel against her large chest.

As the guard went past him, raising the axe to Denna, the strange power roared awake. Richard summoned all his strength, became one with the power. He hooked his left arm around the guard’s throat and drove his knife home. Denna gave a casual glance back as the man let out a death scream. She smiled, and her eyes glided back to the Queen, who stood shaking, paralyzed in place, the Agiel between her breasts. Denna gave a twist to the Agiel. The Queen dropped straight down in a heap.

Denna turned her glare to the Queen’s advisors. “The Queen’s heart has given out.” She arched an eyebrow. “Unexpectedly. Please express my condolence to the people of Tamarang on the death of their ruler. I would suggest you find a new ruler who is more attentive to the wishes of Master Rahl.”

They all gave a quick bow. The awakened power flickered and was gone. The effort of stopping the guard had taken all the strength Richard had left. His shaking legs would no longer hold him. The ground tilted and came up to meet him.

Denna grabbed his chair near the collar, raising his head off the ground. “I didn’t tell you to lie down! You were not given permission! On your feet!”

He couldn’t move. She drove the Agiel into his stomach, dragged it up his chest, to his throat. Richard convulsed in pain, but could not make his body respond to her wishes.

“Sorry . . .” he breathed.

She let his head drop to the ground when she realized he wasn’t able to move and turned to the guards. “Put him inside.”

She climbed in after him, yelling up to the driver to be off, and pulled the door shut. Richard slumped back as the carriage jerked ahead.

“Please, Mistress Denna,” he said in a slur, “forgive me for letting you down, for failing to stand as you wished. I’m sorry. I will do better in the future. Please punish me to teach me to be better.”

She gripped the chain, close to the collar, her knuckles white—lifting him from the seat back. Her lips curled a sneer over gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare die on me now, not yet—you have things to do first.”

His eyes were closed. “As you command . . . Mistress Denna.”

She let go of the chain, took his shoulders, laid him across the seat, and gave him a kiss on his forehead. “You have my permission to rest now, my love. It’s a long way. You will have a long time to rest, before it starts again.”

Richard felt her fingers smoothing his hair back and the bouncing of the carriage as it sped along the road, and fell asleep.

From time to time, he came partly awake, never fully conscious. Sometimes Denna sat next to him, letting him lean against her as she spooned food into his mouth. Swallowing was painful, almost more effort than he could bring forth. He winced with each spoonful, his hunger not sufficient to overcome the pain in his throat, and he turned his head from the spoon. Denna murmured encouragement to him, urging him to eat for her. Doing it for her was the only thing he responded to.