Terry Goodkind - Wizard's First Rule

“I wish a bath,” she said. She showed him the room adjoining hers. It was small—empty of everything except a rope holding the binding device from the ceiling, and a bathing tub in the corner. She told him the room was for training if he needed it on the spot and she didn’t want blood in her room, and for when she wanted to leave him hanging all night. She promised him he would be spending a great deal of time in the little room.

She had him drag the tub to the foot of her bed. He took the bucket from the tub and was instructed where to go for hot water. He was to speak to no one, even if spoken to, and he was to run, there and back, so her bathwater wouldn’t get cold before the tub was filled. She told him that if he didn’t follow her instructions exactly while out of her sight, the pain of the magic would take him down, and if she had to come looking for him, he would be very sorry he had disappointed her. He swore his solemn oath to do as she commanded. The place where the hot water came from, a hot spring in a pool surrounded by white marble seats, was a goodly distance. He was sweating and exhausted by the time he had the tub filled.

While she sat soaking in the tub Richard scrubbed her back, brushed her hair out, and helped her wash it.

Denna draped her arms over the sides of the tub, put her head back, and closed her eyes, relaxing, while he knelt next to her, in case she wanted anything. “You don’t like Constance, do you?”

Richard didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t want to say anything bad about her friend, but lying would get him punished, too. “I am . . . afraid of her, Mistress Denna.”

Denna smiled with her eyes still closed. “Clever answer, my love. You aren’t trying to be flip, are you?”

“No, Mistress Denna. I told you the truth.”

“Good. You should be afraid of her. She hates men. Every time she kills one, she cries out the name of the man who first broke her, Rastin. Remember I told you about the man who broke me, took me for his mate, and that later I killed him? Before he broke me, he was Constance’s trainer. His name was Rastin. It was he who broke her. Constance is the one who told me how I could kill him. I would do anything for her. And because I killed the man she hated so, she would do anything for me.”

“Yes, Mistress Denna. But Mistress Denna, please don’t leave me alone with her?”

“I suggest you be very attentive to your duties. If you are, and you do not earn too much time, I will remain when she is training you. You see? You see how lucky you are to have a kind mistress?”

“Yes, Mistress Denna, thank you for teaching me. You are a gifted teacher.” She opened one eye, as if to check his face for a trace of a smirk. There was none.

“Get me a towel, and lay my nightclothes on the table by the bed.”

Richard helped towel her hair dry. Denna didn’t put on her nightclothes, but lay back on the bed with her damp hair spread out on the pillow.

“Go blow out the lamp on the table over there.” He went immediately and blew out the flame. “Bring me the Agiel, my love.”

Richard flinched. He hated it when she had him fetch the Agiel—touching it hurt. Fearing the result of hesitation more, he gritted his teeth and snatched it up, holding it in the open palms of his hands. The pain of it vibrated in his elbows and shoulders. He could hardly wait for her to take it. She had propped up the pillows against the headboard and was sitting up a little, watching him. He let out a deep breath when she picked it out of his hand.

“Mistress Denna, why doesn’t it hurt you to touch it?”

“It does, same as you. It hurts me to touch it because it is the one used to train me.”

His eyes opened wide. “You mean, the whole time you hold it, it hurts you? The whole time you are training me?”

She nodded, rolling it in her fingers, looking away from his eyes for a second. She gave him a little frown and smile. “There is rarely a time I am without pain, of one kind or another. That is one reason the training of a Mord-Sith takes years—to learn to handle the pain. I guess it’s also why only women are Mord-Sith—men are too weak. The chain around my wrist allows me to let it hang—it doesn’t hurt when it hangs by the chain. But while I use it on someone, it causes constant pain.”

“I never knew.” Richard’s insides knotted in anguish. “I’m sorry, Mistress Denna. I’m sorry it hurts you, that you must suffer to teach me.”

“Pain can bring pleasure all its own, my love. That’s one of the things I’m teaching you. And it’s time for another lesson.” Her eyes glided up and down him. “Enough talk.”

Richard recognized the look in her eyes, the quickening of her breathing. “But, Mistress Denna, you’ve just bathed, and I’m all sweaty.”

A small smile came to one side of her mouth. “I like your sweat.”

With her eyes locked on his, she put the Agiel between her teeth.

The days passed with a numbing sameness. Richard didn’t mind the devotions, because he wasn’t being trained, hurt. But he hated saying the words, and had to concentrate on Denna’s braid the whole of the time he chanted. Chanting the same thing, hour after hour, on his knees with his head against the floor tiles, was hardly less onerous than the training. Richard found himself waking at night, or in the morning, chanting the words. Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.

Denna didn’t wear the red anymore—instead, she wore white leather. She told him it was a gesture that said he was broken, had been taken for a mate, and that to show her power over him she chose not to make him bleed. Constance didn’t like it. It didn’t make much difference to Richard—the Agiel felt the same whether it drew blood or not. Constance was with Denna about half the time, occasionally going off to train a new pet. Constance became more and more insistent about being left alone with Richard, but Denna wouldn’t permit it. Constance threw her all into his training. The more Richard saw of her, the more terrified he became of her. Denna smiled at him whenever she told Constance to take over.

One day, after the afternoon devotion, when Constance had gone off to train someone else, Denna took him back to the little room adjacent to her quarters for his afternoon training. She hoisted him up by the rope until he was hardly able to touch the floor.

“Mistress Denna, with your permission, would you allow Mistress Constance to do all my training from now on?” His question had an effect he hadn’t expected. It enraged her. She stared at him, her face turning a deep red—then she started hitting him with the Agiel, driving it into him, screaming at him, telling him how worthless he was, how insignificant, how she was sick of his talking. Denna was strong, and she beat him with the Agiel as hard as she could. It went on and on.

Richard couldn’t remember her being so angry, so severe, so cruel. Soon he couldn’t remember anything, even where he was. He convulsed in pain. He couldn’t say anything or beg her to stop, or even breathe most of the time. She never slowed or let up. She just seemed to get angrier as she hurt him. He saw blood on the floor, a lot of blood. It splattered all over her white leather. Her chest heaved with her effort, her rage. Her braid came loose.

Denna grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. She gave him no warning. She drove the Agiel in his ear harder than she ever had. She did it again and again. Time distorted into eternity. He no longer knew who he was, or what was happening. He no longer tried to beg, to cry, to hold on.

She stopped, standing next to him, panting in ire. “I’m going to dinner.” He felt the agony of the magic come on in him. He gasped, his eyes going wide. “While I’m gone, and I’m going to take my time, I’ve leaving the pain of the magic on you. You will not be able to pass out, or to stop it. If you let the anger get away from you, it will make the pain worse. And it will get away from you. I promise.”