Terry Goodkind - Wizard's First Rule

Denna gave his stomach an easy slap with the back of her hand. “My new mate.”

“Mate.” Constance spat the word out as if it tasted bitter. “I swear, Denna, I’ll never understand how you can bear to take a mate. The thought of it gives me a stomach ache. So, the Seeker, I see by his sword. Quite a catch, anyway. It must have been difficult.”

Denna smiled smugly. “He only killed two of my men, before he turned his magic on me.” The look of shock on Constance’s face made Denna laugh. “He’s from Westland.”

Constance’s eyebrows went up. “No!” She peered into Richard’s eyes. “Is he broken?”

“Yes,” Denna said, sighing. “But he still gives me reason to smile. It’s only the morning devotion, and already he’s earned two hours.”

A grin spread on Constance’s face. “Mind if I come along?”

Denna gave her a warm smile. “You know that anything that is mine, is yours also, Constance. In fact, you will be my second.”

Constance seem pleased, and proud. Richard had to furiously think of Denna’s braid as the edges of the anger burned to get away from him.

Denna leaned closer to her friend. “In fact, for you only, if you wish to borrow him for a night, I would not object.” Constance stiffened with displeasure. Denna laughed. “Never try, never know.”

Constance scowled. “I will have my pleasure from his flesh in other ways. I’ll go change into the red, and meet you there.”

“No . . . the brown is fine, for now.”

Constance studied her face. “That’s not like you, Denna.”

“I have my reasons. Besides, Master Rahl himself sent me for this one.”

“Master Rahl himself. As you wish, then. After all, he is yours to do with as you will.”

The training room was a simple square with walls and floor of gray granite and a beamed ceiling. On the way in, Constance tripped him. He landed on his face. Before he could stop it, the anger gripped him. She stood over him, pleased with herself, watching him struggle to regain control.

Denna attached a device to him that held his wrists and elbows tightly together behind his back. It was hooked to a rope that ran through a pulley in the ceiling, and was tied off at the wall. She hoisted him up until he had to stand on his toes before she tied the rope off at the wall. The pain in his shoulders was excruciating, making it hard to breathe, and she hadn’t even touched the Agiel to him yet. He was helpless, off balance, and in agony before she even started. His mood sank.

Denna sat in a chair against the wall, telling Constance to enjoy herself. When Denna had trained him, she often had a smile on her face. Constance never smiled once. She went about her work like an ox at a plow, strands of hair coming loose, and in no time her face was covered with a sheen of sweat. She never varied the touch of her Agiel. It was always the same, always hard, harsh, angry. Richard didn’t have to anticipate—there was no pause. She worked with rhythmic timing, never giving him a rest. But she didn’t draw blood. Denna had a constant smile on her face as she sat with the chair leaned against the wall. At last Constance stopped, Richard panting, groaning.

“He can take it well. I haven’t had a workout like this in quite a time. All the pets I’ve gotten lately fold at the first touch.”

The chair came down on its front legs with a clunk. “Maybe I can help, Sister Constance. Let me show you where he doesn’t like it.”

Denna came up behind him and paused, making him flinch in expectation of what didn’t come. Just as he breathed out, the Agiel drove into a tender spot on the right side. He cried out as she held the pressure against him. He couldn’t hold his weight, and the rope pulled his shoulders so hard he thought his arms would come out of their sockets. With a sneer, Denna held the Agiel to him until he started crying.

“Please, Mistress Denna,” he sobbed. “Please.”

She withdrew the Agiel. “See?”

Constance shook her head. “I wish I had your talent, Denna.”

“Here is another place.” She made him scream. “And here, and here too.” She came around and smiled to him. “You don’t mind if I show Constance all your special little places, do you?”

“Please, Mistress Denna, don’t. It hurts too much.”

“There, you see? He doesn’t mind at all.”

She went back to her chair as tears ran down his face. Constance never smiled—she simply went to work, and also had him begging breathlessly. But the way she never varied the pressure, never letting up, was worse than Denna. She never gave him a moment to rest. Richard learned to fear her touch more than he feared Denna’s. Denna had an odd compassion at times. Constance never did. When it was beyond a certain point, Denna would tell her to stop, wait a moment, and guide her so as not to cripple him. Constance complied with her wishes and let Denna direct the way she wanted him hurt.

“You don’t have to stay, Denna, if you have things to do. I won’t mind.”

Fear and panic raced through his mind. He didn’t want to be left alone with Constance. He knew that Constance wanted to do things to him that Denna didn’t want done. He didn’t know what they were, but he feared them.

“Another time, I will leave you alone with him . . . to do things your way, but today I will stay.”

Richard made sure he showed no sign that he was relieved. Constance went back to work.

After a while longer, when she was behind him, Constance grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back, hard. Richard knew very well what it meant to have his head pulled back in this manner. He remembered the pain of what she was about to do. The pain of having the Agiel in his ear. He shook uncontrollably, couldn’t breathe with the fear of it.

Denna came out of her chair. “Don’t do that, Constance.”

Constance gritted her teeth as she looked at him, pulling his head back harder. “Why not? Surely you’ve done it?”

“Yes, I just don’t want you to, that’s all. Master Rahl hasn’t talked to him yet. I don’t want to take any chances.”

A grin came to Constance’s face. “Denna, let’s do it together, at the same time. You and me. Like we used to.”

“I told you, Master Rahl wants to talk to him.”

“After that?”

Denna smiled. “It has been a long time since I’ve heard that scream.” She looked to Richard’s eyes. “If Master Rahl doesn’t kill him, and he doesn’t die first from . . . from other things, then, yes, we will do it to him. All right? But not now. And Constance, please respect my wishes, about using the Agiel in his ear.”

Constance nodded and released his hair. “Don’t you think you have gotten off easy.” She scowled at him. “Sooner or later, you and I will be alone, and then I will take my pleasure from you.”

“Yes, Mistress Constance,” he whispered hoarsely.

After they were finished training him, they went to lunch. Richard followed behind, the chain hooked to Denna’s belt. The dining hall was tasteful in its simple style of frame and panel oak over a white marble floor. There was the soft murmur of conversation at the various tables as people ate. Denna snapped her fingers as she sat, pointing at the floor behind her chair. Servers brought food to the two Mord-Sith, but none for Richard. Lunch was a hearty-looking soup, cheese, brown bread, and fruit. The good smells drove Richard to distraction. There was no meat served. Halfway through her meal, Denna turned and told him that he would get no lunch, for having earned two hours that morning. She said that if he behaved himself, he would get dinner.

The afternoon was spent at devotions, and after that, several hours of training. Denna and Constance shared the task. Richard did his best to do nothing wrong, and at dinner was rewarded with a bowl of rice with vegetables over it. After dinner were more devotions and more training, until at last they left Constance and returned to Denna’s quarters, Richard dead tired and stooping because of pain as he walked.