Wizard's First Rule tsot-1

by Terry Goodkind

  Richard recognized the ring of sincerity in Denna’s voice. The Agiel touched the back of his neck, taking his breath away. It felt as if a rope were tightening around his throat. By the way it was held, he knew it wasn’t Denna’s.

  “And what have we here?” Constance asked.

  She took the Agiel away. Coughing in pain, Richard gasped for air. He came to his feet when Denna told him to do so, wishing he could hide behind her. Constance was a good head shorter than Denna, her stout figure dressed in a leather outfit like Denna’s, only brown. Her dull brown hair was done in a braid, too, but didn’t have the fullness of Denna’s. The look on her face made it seem she had just eaten something she didn’t like.

  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.

  “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 l
onger 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.”

  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.