Wizard's First Rule tsot-1

by Terry Goodkind

  The only time Denna paused was a few times to sit at the table to eat. She would watch him while she slowly ate fruit, smiling to herself when he moaned. He was given nothing to eat, only water from a cup she held for him after she was finished with her meal.

  At the end of the day she hooked his chain to the beam again and made him stand for the night. He didn’t bother to ask why—it didn’t matter. She was going to do as she wished and there was nothing he could do to change it.

  In the morning when she returned with the torch, he was still standing, but barely. She seemed in a good mood.

  “I want a good-morning kiss.” She smiled. “I expect you to return it. Show me how happy you are to see your mistress.”

  He did his best, but had to concentrate on how pretty her braid was. The embrace ignited the flames of pain in the wounds she pressed against. When she was finished, and the hurt left him shaking, she pulled the chain off the peg and tossed it on the floor.

  “You are learning to be a good pet. You have earned two hours of sleep.”

  He collapsed to the floor, asleep before the sound of her footsteps faded.

  He discovered that being awakened by the Agiel was a terror all its own. The brief sleep had done little to revive him. He needed much more than he had been allowed. He vowed to himself that he would struggle with all his might to get through the entire day without making a single mistake, to do exactly as she wished, and maybe she would grant him a whole night’s sleep.

  He put his effort into doing everything she wished, hoping he would please her. He was hoping, too, that he would be given something to eat. He hadn’t eaten since she had captured him. He wondered which he wanted more—sleep, or food. He decided that what he wanted the most was for the pain to stop. Or for him to be allowed to die.

  He was at the end of his strength, felt his life slipping away from him, and awaited the end with longing. Denna seemed to sense his waning endurance, and eased up, giving him more time to recover, taking longer breaks. He didn’t care—he knew it was never going to end, he was lost. He surrendered his will to live, to go on, to hold out. She cooed to him soothingly, stroking his face, as he hung in the shackles, resting. She spoke encouragingly to him, told him not to give up, and promised that when he was broken, it would be better. He just listened, not even able to cry.

  When at last she unhooked the shackles from the beam, he thought it must be night again—he had no sense of time anymore. He waited for her to hook up the chain, or throw it on the floor and tell him he could sleep. She did neither. She instead hooked it over the chair, told him to stand, and left. When she returned, she was carrying a bucket.

  “On your knees, my pet.” She sat in the chair next to him, took a brush from the hot soapy water, and started scrubbing him. The stiff bristles brought a pain all of their own as they worked into his wounds. “We have a dinner invitation. I have to get you cleaned up. I rather like the smell of your sweat, your fear, but I’m afraid it would offend the guests.”

  She worked with an odd sort of tenderness. It reminded him of the way a person would care for a dog. He fell against her, unable to hold himself up. He wouldn’t lean against her for support if he had the strength not to, but he didn’t. She let him stay where he was as she scrubbed. He wondered who the dinner invitation was from, but didn’t ask.

  Denna told him anyway. “Queen Milena herself has asked us to join her and her guests for dinner. Quite an honor, for someone as low as you, wouldn’t you say?”

  He only nodded, not having enough strength to speak.

  Queen Milena. So they were in her castle. He guessed that didn’t surprise him. Where else would she have had time to take him? When she was finished, she allowed him one hour of sleep, to rest for dinner. He slept at her feet.

  She woke him with her boot instead of the Agiel. He almost cried at her mercy and heard himself thanking her profusely for her kindness to him. She gave him instructions as to his behavior. He would have his chain hooked to her belt, and was to keep his eyes to her, speak to no one unless they spoke to him first, and then only if he looked to her first for permission to answer. He would not be allowed to sit at the table, but would sit on the floor, and if he behaved himself, he would be given something to eat.

  He promised to do as she wished. The idea of sitting on the floor sounded wonderful to him: to be able to rest, and not have to stand, or be hurt. And to be allowed something to eat, at last. He would make sure he did nothing to displease her, or to keep her from giving him food.

  Richard’s brain was in a fog as he followed behind Denna, attached to her by the chain on his collar, concentrating on keeping the proper amount of slack. The manacles were off his wrists, but the cuts from them were red and swollen, and throbbed painfully. He vaguely remembered some of the rooms they passed through.

  In the room with other people, Denna stopped as she strode around, talking briefly with finely dressed people. Richard kept his eyes on her braid. The braid had obviously been done over for the dinner—the vigorous use of the Agiel caused it to loosen, and freed stray wisps of hair. She must have done it over while she had let him sleep.

  He found himself thinking about how beautiful her hair really was, how much finer she looked than any of the other women at the dinner. He knew people were staring at him, at his sword, as he was led around the room by his collar and chain. He reminded himself that his pride was locked away for the time being. This was about getting a chance to rest, to eat, and about having her not hurt him for a while.

  Richard bowed and stayed bowed while Denna spoke to the Queen. The Queen and the Mord-Sith gave only a bow of the head to each other. The Princess was at the Queen’s side. Richard thought about how Princess Violet had treated Rachel, and had to return his thoughts to Denna’s braid.

  As she sat at the table, Denna snapped her fingers and pointed at the floor behind her chair. He knew what she wanted and sat on the floor, crossing his legs. Denna sat to the left of the Queen, to the right of Princess Violet, who eyed him coldly. Richard recognized some of the Queen’s advisors. He smiled to himself. The court artist wasn’t among them. The head table was higher than the others, but sitting on the floor, Richard couldn’t see many of the gathered guests.

  “Since you don’t eat meat,” the Queen said to Denna, “I had the cooks prepare a special dinner I know you will enjoy. Some wonderful soups and vegetables, and some rare fruits.”

  Denna smiled and thanked her. While she was eating, a server brought her a plain bowl on a tray.

  “For my pet,” she told him, interrupting her conversation only briefly.

  The man took the bowl from the tray and handed it down to Richard. It was some sort of gruel, but to Richard, as he held the bowl in his trembling hands, preparing to drink it down, it looked like the best meal he had ever seen.

  “If he’s your pet,” Princess Violet said, “why do you allow him to eat like that?”

  Denna looked over to the Princess. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if he’s your pet”—the Princess smiled—“he should eat off the floor, without his hands.”

  Denna grinned, a glint in her eye. “Do as she says.”

  “Put it on the floor,” Princess Violet said, “and eat it like a dog, for us all to see. Let everyone see that the Seeker is no better than a dog.”

  Richard was too hungry to do anything to lose his meal. He concentrated on a mental image of Denna’s braid and set the bowl carefully on the floor as he glanced into Princess Violet’s eyes, to her smirk, and ate the gruel to the sound of laughter. He licked the bowl clean, telling himself it was because he needed the strength, in case he ever got the chance to use it.

  After the Queen and her guests had finished eating, a man in chains was brought in and made to stand in the center of the room. Richard recognized him. He was one of the men Kahlan had freed from the dungeon. They exchanged a brief look of understanding, despair.

  There was talk of crimes and foul deeds done.
Richard did his best to ignore it—he knew it was merely a pretext. The Queen gave a short lecture on the man’s crimes, then turned to the Princess.

  “Perhaps the Princess would like to pronounce this man’s punishment?”

  Princess Violet stood, beaming. “For his crimes against the Crown, one hundred lashes. Then, for his crimes against the people, his head.”

  A murmur of agreement swept the room. Richard felt sick, but at the same time he wished he could exchange places with the man. The one hundred lashes would be easy, and there would be an axe at the end of it.

  Princess Violet turned to Denna as she sat back down. “Sometime I would enjoy seeing how you handle your punishments.”

  “Stop down anytime you wish.” Denna glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll let you watch.”

  When they were back in the stone room, Denna wasted no time in getting his shirt off, and he was soon hanging from the beam again. She coolly informed him that his eyes had strayed too much at dinner. Richard’s heart sank. The shackles around his wrists burned into his flesh once more. Denna’s talents had him covered in sweat in no time, gasping for air, crying out in agony. She told him it was still early and she wanted to get in a lot of training before the evening ended.

  Richard’s muscles flexed and tightened, lifting him off the floor as Denna twisted the Agiel into his back. He begged her to stop, but she didn’t. When he sagged once more in the shackles, he saw a silhouette in the doorway.

  “I like the way you can make him beg,” Princess Violet said.

  The Mord-Sith smiled to her. “Come closer, my dear, and I’ll show you more.”

  Denna hugged him with one arm, pressing herself into his wounds. She kissed his ear and whispered to him. “Let’s show the Princess how well you can beg, shall we?”

  Richard vowed to himself he wouldn’t, but it wasn’t long before he broke his vow. Denna put on a demonstration for Princess Violet, showing her the different ways she could hurt him. She seemed proud to show off her talents.

  “Can I try?” the Princess asked.

  Denna looked down at her a moment. “Why, of course, my dear. I’m sure my pet wouldn’t mind.” She smiled at him. “Now would you?”

  “Please, Mistress Denna, don’t let her. Please. She’s just a little girl. I’ll do anything you say, but don’t let her. Please.”

  “There, you see, my dear, he doesn’t mind at all.”

  Denna handed her the Agiel.

  Princess Violet stood grinning up at him while she fingered the Agiel. Experimentally, she poked it at his thigh muscle, happy at the way it made him flinch in pain. Pleased with the results, she walked around him, poking it into his flesh.

  “It’s easy!” she said. “I never thought it would be this easy to make someone bleed.”

  Denna stood with her arms folded across her breasts, watching him with a smile while the Princess became bolder. It wasn’t long before her cruelty came fully to the surface. She delighted in her new game.

  “Remember what you did to me?” she asked him. She jabbed the Agiel into his side. “Remember how you embarrassed me? I guess you’re getting what you deserve, don’t you think?” Richard kept his teeth clenched tightly together. “Answer me! Don’t you think this is what you deserve?”

  Richard kept his eyes closed as he tried to control his grip on the pain.

  “Answer me! And then beg me to stop. I want to do it while you beg.”

  “You better answer her,” Denna said. “She seems to learn fast.”

  “Please, Mistress Denna, don’t teach her this. What you are doing to her is worse than what you are doing to me. She’s only a little girl. Please don’t do this to her. Don’t let her learn these things.”

  “I’ll learn what I please. You better start begging. Right now!”

  Even though he knew he was only making it worse for himself, Richard waited until he could absolutely bear it no longer before he let himself answer. “I’m sorry, Princess Violet,” he gasped. “Please forgive me. I was wrong.”

  Richard found that answering her was a mistake—it only seemed to excite her. It didn’t take her long, though, before she learned to make him beg, and cry, even though he tried not to. Richard couldn’t believe the absurdity of a little girl doing this. Much less enjoying it. This was madness.

  She held the Agiel against his stomach while she leered up at him. “But this is less than that Confessor deserves. She will get more than this someday. And I’m going to be the one to do it. My mother said I get to be the one when she comes back. I want you to beg me to hurt her. Let’s hear you beg me to chop off the Mother Confessor’s head.”

  Richard had no idea what it was, but something inside him came awake.

  Princess Violet gritted her teeth and jammed the Agiel into his gut hard as she could, twisting it. “Beg me! Beg me to kill that ugly Kahlan!”

  The pain made Richard scream at the top of his lungs.

  Denna stepped between them, snatching the Agiel from Princess Violet’s hand. “Enough! You will kill him if you use the Agiel in that way.”

  “Thank you, Mistress Denna,” he panted. He felt a peculiar affection for her, at the way she stepped to his defense.

  Princess Violet took a step back, her face a picture of bad temper. “I don’t care if I kill him!”

  Denna’s voice was cool and authoritative. “Well, I do. He is too valuable to waste in this manner.” Denna was clearly the one in charge around here. Not the Princess, not even the Queen. Denna was an agent of Darken Rahl.

  Princess Violet glared at him. “My mother says that Confessor Kahlan will come back and that we’ll have a surprise for her the next time she comes here. I just want you to know because my mother said you’ll be dead by then. My mother says I get to decide what to do to her. First, I’m going to cut off her hair.” Her hands were in fists, her face red. “Then I’m going to let all the guards rape her, every one! Then I’m going to put her in the dungeon for a few years so they’ll have someone to play with! Then when I get tired of hurting her, I’ll have her head chopped off and put it on a pole where I can watch it rot!”

  Richard actually felt sorry for the little Princess. The sadness for her came over him in a wave. At that feeling, he was surprised to feel the thing in him that had come awake rise up.

  Princess Violet squeezed her eyes shut and stuck her tongue out far as she could.

  It was like a red flag.

  The strength of the awakened power exploded through him.

  When his boot came up under her jaw he could feel it shatter like a crystal goblet on a stone floor. The impact of the blow lifted the Princess into the air. Her own teeth severed her tongue before they, too, shattered. She landed on her back, a good distance away, trying to scream through the gushing blood.

  Denna’s eyes snapped to him. For an instant, he saw fear pass across them. Richard had no idea how he was able to what he had done, why the magic hadn’t stopped him, and from the look on Denna’s face, he knew he shouldn’t have been able to do it.

  “I warned her before,” Richard said, holding Denna’s glare. “Promise made. Promise kept.” He smiled. “Thank you, Mistress Denna, for saving my life. I owe you.”

  She stared at him a moment before her expression turned dark. She stalked out of the room. He watched the Princess writhing on the floor as he hung in the shackles.

  “Turn over, Violet, or you’ll drown in your own blood. Turn over!”

  The Princess managed to flip herself over, a red pool spreading under her. Men appeared in a rush, tending to her. Denna watched. They lifted her carefully, carrying her away. He could hear their urgent voices fading, disappearing down the hall.

  And then he was alone with Denna.

  The strap hinges creaked as she pushed the door closed with one long-nailed finger. Richard had learned over the last few days that Denna truly did have a perverse kindness to her. He had learned to interpret the way she used the Agiel, to interpret her mood through it.
Sometimes when she was hurting him he could tell she was holding back out of a twisted caring for him. He knew it was insane, but he understood that there were times she felt she was sharing her feelings for him by doing her worst. He knew, too, that tonight she was going to do her worst.

  She stood by the door, watching him. Her voice was soft. “You are a very rare person, Richard Cypher. Master Rahl warned me about you. Warned me to take care—that the prophecies speak of you.” She walked slowly, her boots echoing her steps on the stone, to stand in front of him, close. She looked into his eyes, a slight wrinkle to her brow. Her breath on his face was quicker than normal. “That was quite extraordinary,” she whispered. “Thoroughly exciting.” Her eyes searched his face hungrily. “I have decided,” she said breathlessly, “to have you as my mate.”

  Richard hung from the chains, helpless against this madness. He didn’t know what the power was that had risen up in him, or how to call it back. He tried. It did not come.

  Denna seemed to be in the grip of something he didn’t understand, as if she were trying to summon the courage to do something, fearing it, yet anxiously wanting it. Her breathing was quickening, her chest heaving, as she looked into his eyes. Incredulous, he saw something the ugliness of her cruelty had never let him see before: she was attractive. Breathtakingly, stunningly, attractive. He thought he must be losing his mind.

  Shocked, and strangely worried, Richard watched as she slowly put the Agiel between her teeth. He could tell by the way her pupils suddenly expanded that it was hurting her. Her skin paled. She inhaled sharply, trembling the slightest bit. Denna put her fingers into the back of his hair and held his head. Slowly she brought her lips to his. She kissed him deeply, passionately, sharing the shattering pain of the Agiel with him. With her tongue, she held it between their tips. Her kiss was savage, bestial, as she twisted against him.