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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’m 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.”

She went to the wall and hoisted the rope up until his feet were off the floor. Richard cried out. His arms felt as if they would be torn out.

“Enjoy yourself.” She turned on her heels and left.

Richard balanced on the edge of sanity and madness, the suffering twisting in him, making him unable to control the anger, as she had promised. The flames of his hurt consumed him. It was somehow worse that she wasn’t there. He had never felt so alone, so helpless, and the pain wouldn’t even let him cry; he could only gasp in agony.

He had no idea how long he was left alone. He was aware only of suddenly dropping to the floor, then Denna’s boots to either side of his head as she stood over him. She turned off the pain of the magic, but his arms were still clamped helplessly behind his back, and the burning inferno of pain in his shoulders didn’t extinguish. He cried against the blood on the floor as she stood over him.

“I told you before,” she hissed through gritted teeth, “you are my mate for life.” He could hear her heavy breathing, the rage in her. “Before I begin doing worse to you, and you are no longer able to speak, I want you to tell me why you asked to have Constance train you instead of me.”

He coughed up blood, trying to speak.

“That is not the way you talk to me! On your knees! Now!”

He tried to get to his knees, but with his arms behind his back, he was unable to. Denna took a fistful of his hair and pulled him up. Dizzy, he fell against her, his face against the wet blood on her belly. His blood.

She pushed him away from her with the tip of the Agiel against his forehead. That brought his eyes open. He looked up at her, to answer.

Denna backhanded him across the mouth. “Look at the ground when you speak to me! No one gave you permission to look at me!” Richard looked down at her boots. “You’re running out of time! Answer the question!”

Richard coughed up more blood; it ran down his chin, and he had to struggle to keep from vomiting. “Because, Mistress Denna,” he said hoarsely, “I know it hurts you to hold the Agiel. I know it hurts you to train me. I wanted Mistress Constance to do it, to spare you the pain. I don’t want you to hurt. I know what it feels like to hurt; you have taught me. You have already been hurt enough; I don’t want you to hurt any more. I would rather have Mistress Constance punish me than have you be in pain.”

He strove to balance himself on his knees. There was a long silence. Richard stared at her boots, and coughed a little, struggling to breathe with the pain in his shoulders. The silence seemed as if it would never end. He didn’t know what she was going to do to him next.

“I don’t understand you, Richard Cypher,” she said softly, at last, the anger gone from her voice. “The spirits take me, I don’t understand you.”

She walked behind him, unhooked the device that held his arms, and walked out of the room without another word. He couldn’t straighten out his arms properly, and fell on his face. He didn’t try to get up, he only cried against the bloody floor.

After a time, he heard the bell, calling them to the evening devotion. Denna came back in, squatted down next to him, put her arm gently around him, and helped him to his feet.

“We are not allowed to miss a devotion,” she explained in a quiet voice, hooking the chain to her belt.

The sight of his blood all over the white leather was shocking. There were strings of it across her face and in her hair. As they walked to the devotion, people who usually spoke to her averted their eyes and gave her wide passage. Kneeling with his head to the floor hurt his ribs, making it hard to breathe, much less chant. He didn’t know if he was getting the words right, but Denna didn’t correct him, so he just went on. How he stayed upright the whole time, without tipping over, he didn’t know.

When the bell rang twice, Denna rose, but didn’t help him. Constance appeared, a rare grin on her face.

“My, my, Denna, looks like you’ve been having fun.” Constance backhanded him, but he managed to stay on his feet. “Been a bad boy, have you?”

“Yes, Mistress Constance.”

“Very bad, it would appear. How delightful.” Her hungry eyes turned to Denna. “I’m free. Let’s go teach him what two Mord-Sith can really do.”

“No, not tonight, Constance.”

“No? What do you mean, no?”

Denna exploded. “I mean no! He is my mate, and I’m taking him back to train him as such! Do you wish to come and watch when I lie with my mate! Do you want to watch, too, what I do when I have the Agiel between my teeth!”

Richard shrank back. So that was what she had planned. If she did that to him tonight, as badly as he was already hurt…

People in white robes—missionaries, Denna had called them—were staring. Constance glared back and they hurried off. Both women’s faces were red—Denna’s from anger, Constance’s from embarrassment.

“Of course not, Denna,” she said in a low voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I will leave you to it.” She gave Richard a smirk. “You look to be in enough trouble already, my boy. I hope you are up to your duties.”

She gave him a jab in the stomach with her Agiel, and walked off. Dizzy, Richard put his hand across himself with a moan. Denna’s hand come up under his arm, holding him up. Denna glared after Constance, then started off, expecting him to follow. He did.

When they were back in Denna’s quarters, she gave him the bucket. He almost collapsed at the thought of filling her tub.

Her voice was quiet. “Go and get one bucket of hot water.”

Richard could have died with relief, knowing that he didn’t have to fill the tub. He retrieved the water, a little confused. She seemed to be angry, but wasn’t directing her anger at him. He waited with his eyes cast downward after he set the bucket on the floor. Denna brought the chair over. He was surprised she didn’t have him do it.

“Sit down.” She went to the table by her bed and came back with a pear. She looked at it in her hand a moment, turning it around and around, rubbing it a little with her thumb, then held it out to him. “I brought this back from dinner. I find I am no longer hungry. You had no dinner; you eat it.”

Richard looked at the pear in her hand as she held it toward him. “No, Mistress Denna. It’s yours. Not mine.”

“I know whose it is, Richard.” Her voice was still quiet. “Do as I say.”

He took the pear, eating it all, even the seeds. Denna knelt down and started washing him. He had no idea what was going on, but the washing hurt, although it was nothing to compare with the Agiel. He wondered why she was doing this, when it was time to train him again.

Denna seemed to sense his apprehension. “I have a backache.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress Denna, I’ve caused it by my behavior.”

“Be quiet,” she said gently. “I want to sleep on something hard, for my back. I will sleep on the floor. Since I will sleep on the floor, you will have to sleep in my bed, and I don’t want your blood in it.”

Richard was a little perplexed. The floor was certainly big enough for the two of them, and she had certainly gotten his blood in her bed before. It had never bothered her in the past. He decided it was not his place to question, and so didn’t.

“All right,” she said when she had finished, “get in the bed.”

He lay down while she watched him. With resignation, he picked up the Agiel from the side table and held it out to her, the pain from it hurting his arm. He wished she weren’t going to do this to him tonight.

Denna took the Agiel from him and returned it to the table. “Not tonight. I told you, I have a backache.” She blew ou

t the lamp. “Go to sleep.”

He heard her lie on the floor, whispering a curse to herself. He was too exhausted to think, and was asleep in a short time.

When the peal of the bell woke him, Denna was already up. She had cleaned the blood from her white outfit, and had fixed her braid. She said nothing to him as they walked to the devotion. It was painful for him to kneel, and he was glad when it was finished. He didn’t see Constance. Walking behind Denna, he began to turn toward the training room, but she didn’t, and the chain pulled taut. The pain brought him up short.

“We’re not going that way,” she said.

“Yes, Mistress Denna.”

She walked awhile, down halls that stretched forever, then gave him an impatient look. “Walk next to me. We’re going for a walk. It’s something I enjoy doing occasionally. When my back hurts. It helps me.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress Denna. I was hoping it would be better by this morning.”

She glanced at him, then looked back to where she was going. “Well, it’s not. So we will go for a walk.”


Tags: Terry Goodkind Sword of Truth Fantasy

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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’m 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.”

She went to the wall and hoisted the rope up until his feet were off the floor. Richard cried out. His arms felt as if they would be torn out.

“Enjoy yourself.” She turned on her heels and left.

Richard balanced on the edge of sanity and madness, the suffering twisting in him, making him unable to control the anger, as she had promised. The flames of his hurt consumed him. It was somehow worse that she wasn’t there. He had never felt so alone, so helpless, and the pain wouldn’t even let him cry; he could only gasp in agony.

He had no idea how long he was left alone. He was aware only of suddenly dropping to the floor, then Denna’s boots to either side of his head as she stood over him. She turned off the pain of the magic, but his arms were still clamped helplessly behind his back, and the burning inferno of pain in his shoulders didn’t extinguish. He cried against the blood on the floor as she stood over him.

“I told you before,” she hissed through gritted teeth, “you are my mate for life.” He could hear her heavy breathing, the rage in her. “Before I begin doing worse to you, and you are no longer able to speak, I want you to tell me why you asked to have Constance train you instead of me.”

He coughed up blood, trying to speak.

“That is not the way you talk to me! On your knees! Now!”

He tried to get to his knees, but with his arms behind his back, he was unable to. Denna took a fistful of his hair and pulled him up. Dizzy, he fell against her, his face against the wet blood on her belly. His blood.

She pushed him away from her with the tip of the Agiel against his forehead. That brought his eyes open. He looked up at her, to answer.

Denna backhanded him across the mouth. “Look at the ground when you speak to me! No one gave you permission to look at me!” Richard looked down at her boots. “You’re running out of time! Answer the question!”

Richard coughed up more blood; it ran down his chin, and he had to struggle to keep from vomiting. “Because, Mistress Denna,” he said hoarsely, “I know it hurts you to hold the Agiel. I know it hurts you to train me. I wanted Mistress Constance to do it, to spare you the pain. I don’t want you to hurt. I know what it feels like to hurt; you have taught me. You have already been hurt enough; I don’t want you to hurt any more. I would rather have Mistress Constance punish me than have you be in pain.”

He strove to balance himself on his knees. There was a long silence. Richard stared at her boots, and coughed a little, struggling to breathe with the pain in his shoulders. The silence seemed as if it would never end. He didn’t know what she was going to do to him next.

“I don’t understand you, Richard Cypher,” she said softly, at last, the anger gone from her voice. “The spirits take me, I don’t understand you.”

She walked behind him, unhooked the device that held his arms, and walked out of the room without another word. He couldn’t straighten out his arms properly, and fell on his face. He didn’t try to get up, he only cried against the bloody floor.

After a time, he heard the bell, calling them to the evening devotion. Denna came back in, squatted down next to him, put her arm gently around him, and helped him to his feet.

“We are not allowed to miss a devotion,” she explained in a quiet voice, hooking the chain to her belt.

The sight of his blood all over the white leather was shocking. There were strings of it across her face and in her hair. As they walked to the devotion, people who usually spoke to her averted their eyes and gave her wide passage. Kneeling with his head to the floor hurt his ribs, making it hard to breathe, much less chant. He didn’t know if he was getting the words right, but Denna didn’t correct him, so he just went on. How he stayed upright the whole time, without tipping over, he didn’t know.

When the bell rang twice, Denna rose, but didn’t help him. Constance appeared, a rare grin on her face.

“My, my, Denna, looks like you’ve been having fun.” Constance backhanded him, but he managed to stay on his feet. “Been a bad boy, have you?”

“Yes, Mistress Constance.”

“Very bad, it would appear. How delightful.” Her hungry eyes turned to Denna. “I’m free. Let’s go teach him what two Mord-Sith can really do.”

“No, not tonight, Constance.”

“No? What do you mean, no?”

Denna exploded. “I mean no! He is my mate, and I’m taking him back to train him as such! Do you wish to come and watch when I lie with my mate! Do you want to watch, too, what I do when I have the Agiel between my teeth!”

Richard shrank back. So that was what she had planned. If she did that to him tonight, as badly as he was already hurt…

People in white robes—missionaries, Denna had called them—were staring. Constance glared back and they hurried off. Both women’s faces were red—Denna’s from anger, Constance’s from embarrassment.

“Of course not, Denna,” she said in a low voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I will leave you to it.” She gave Richard a smirk. “You look to be in enough trouble already, my boy. I hope you are up to your duties.”

She gave him a jab in the stomach with her Agiel, and walked off. Dizzy, Richard put his hand across himself with a moan. Denna’s hand come up under his arm, holding him up. Denna glared after Constance, then started off, expecting him to follow. He did.

When they were back in Denna’s quarters, she gave him the bucket. He almost collapsed at the thought of filling her tub.

Her voice was quiet. “Go and get one bucket of hot water.”

Richard could have died with relief, knowing that he didn’t have to fill the tub. He retrieved the water, a little confused. She seemed to be angry, but wasn’t directing her anger at him. He waited with his eyes cast downward after he set the bucket on the floor. Denna brought the chair over. He was surprised she didn’t have him do it.

“Sit down.” She went to the table by her bed and came back with a pear. She looked at it in her hand a moment, turning it around and around, rubbing it a little with her thumb, then held it out to him. “I brought this back from dinner. I find I am no longer hungry. You had no dinner; you eat it.”

Richard looked at the pear in her hand as she held it toward him. “No, Mistress Denna. It’s yours. Not mine.”

“I know whose it is, Richard.” Her voice was still quiet. “Do as I say.”

He took the pear, eating it all, even the seeds. Denna knelt down and started washing him. He had no idea what was going on, but the washing hurt, although it was nothing to compare with the Agiel. He wondered why she was doing this, when it was time to train him again.

Denna seemed to sense his apprehension. “I have a backache.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress Denna, I’ve caused it by my behavior.”

“Be quiet,” she said gently. “I want to sleep on something hard, for my back. I will sleep on the floor. Since I will sleep on the floor, you will have to sleep in my bed, and I don’t want your blood in it.”

Richard was a little perplexed. The floor was certainly big enough for the two of them, and she had certainly gotten his blood in her bed before. It had never bothered her in the past. He decided it was not his place to question, and so didn’t.

“All right,” she said when she had finished, “get in the bed.”

He lay down while she watched him. With resignation, he picked up the Agiel from the side table and held it out to her, the pain from it hurting his arm. He wished she weren’t going to do this to him tonight.

Denna took the Agiel from him and returned it to the table. “Not tonight. I told you, I have a backache.” She blew ou

t the lamp. “Go to sleep.”

He heard her lie on the floor, whispering a curse to herself. He was too exhausted to think, and was asleep in a short time.

When the peal of the bell woke him, Denna was already up. She had cleaned the blood from her white outfit, and had fixed her braid. She said nothing to him as they walked to the devotion. It was painful for him to kneel, and he was glad when it was finished. He didn’t see Constance. Walking behind Denna, he began to turn toward the training room, but she didn’t, and the chain pulled taut. The pain brought him up short.

“We’re not going that way,” she said.

“Yes, Mistress Denna.”

She walked awhile, down halls that stretched forever, then gave him an impatient look. “Walk next to me. We’re going for a walk. It’s something I enjoy doing occasionally. When my back hurts. It helps me.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress Denna. I was hoping it would be better by this morning.”

She glanced at him, then looked back to where she was going. “Well, it’s not. So we will go for a walk.”


Tags: Terry Goodkind Sword of Truth Fantasy