Val’s mouth loosened at last, his head nodded. Together we lay down in the straw, my cloak around us. Try to conserve my strength. Lie still; move as little as possible. Watching Jana’s faint shadow as it played along the wall and faded gradually with the waning daylight upstairs, I moved in and out of a dozing sleep.
CHAPTER 6
Once again I was awakened by loud voices. Reynaldo stood in front of me, backed by some of his men for moral support. “Where is he?” he said. He put his hands on me, like last night, hoisting me to my feet. “Where is your lord husband with your ransom?”
The sudden rise was too quick for me. Black spots obscured his face. Before I could faint I sank down on the straw, kneeling with my head hanging. “My husband?” I said in a whisper.
Reynaldo hauled me up again, and again I knelt, unable to stand with not enough blood to my brain. “Stand up when I talk to you!” he screamed. His foot went back to kick me, then he thought better of it. He kicked a clump of dirty straw instead. “We waited all day. We will not keep you alive forever, little lady. Your husband must bring us ransom.”
My heart and head pounded at the words. “Eclipsia City,” I choked out the words. “When you captured us, he was on his way to Eclipsia City.”
Reynaldo squinted at me in the darkness. “Don’t lie to me! He was here, with you, last night. Now a whole day has gone by with no sign of him.” He shook his fist at the air. I warn you, he thought into the formlessness of the telepathic ether, hoping to hit Dominic’s mind at random, I will not keep your family alive forever.
Slowly I woke to full consciousness, some blood oozing its way up through the arteries in my neck, my mind beginning to function. I thought to Reynaldo, more convincing than speech, Margrave Aranyi was in Eclipsia City last night.
The bandit leader seized my arms, held me up in a strong grip. He knew what it feels like, how unwanted and unexpected physical touch is like a laceration to a telepath, while the invasion of an unwelcome mind is like rape. He forced himself on me deliberately. Prove it, he said. Bring Margrave Aranyi here to protect his precious little wife.
Reynaldo’s mind slithered around inside mine like a snake in a jar, scaly and sinuous, coiling itself through the channels of my thought. He saw my disgust, too overwhelming for me to conceal, and the knowledge of my reaction both enraged and pleased him. Slowly, purposefully, he made use of the fact, attempting the kind of sexual communion which Dominic forms so naturally with me. All my reflexes cried out for escape, for barriers, like shutting my mouth to shit, until my mind rebelled, slamming down on his like the chop of an ax. But in the act of freeing myself I did what he wanted. Dominic! I called to him, a mantra of salvation, and my husband heard me and responded.
Dominic flew to my aid like a missile. His consciousness entered Reynaldo’s with such power that the man’s thoughts were pulled completely out of my mind in an instant, my arms released from his hold. Dominic knew what the bandit had been attempting, and my husband chose an appropriate punishment. He assaulted Reynaldo in a simulation of brutal rape, using his telepathic abilities at an expert level of complexity, generating in the bandit’s brain all the impressions of being anally penetrated.
Dominic imagined himself ramming into the bandit repeatedly in an obscene vision of sexual performance. Reynaldo, forced to his knees by his own mind’s reception of Dominic’s thoughts, cried out in pain, struggling to free himself, caught in a bewildering net of violent sensations. As his body quivered with the motion of Dominic’s thrusts, Reynaldo reached a hand to me, pleading for release. I stared back, silent and unmoved. Reynaldo knew it was not I who raped him. He had compelled me to bring Dominic here; what Dominic did when he arrived was beyond my control.
In my weakened state I shared Dominic’s mind, easier than using my own, feeling his murderous rage at what I had endured. Dominic’s fury produced a communion of war between us, made us comrades in arms as I was carried along on the surge of his emotion. I experienced my husband’s active thoughts as if it were my body that entered Reynaldo’s, my consciousness that violated his, sending the carefully-constructed messages of pain and violation to his mind. Though I recoiled at this union with Reynaldo, as repulsed as when he had forced himself on me, the completeness of my connection with Dominic made my participation unavoidable. I stood propped against the wall and, linked in communion with Dominic, fucked Reynaldo until he screamed.
To Reynaldo’s men the spectacle was the more frightening for its unintelligibility. They had no clear idea of what was happening, saw only that their leader was having some kind of fit, could barely speak, could not stand upright, and shook like– Like a man being buggered, one man thought. But the idea made no sense; there was no visible rapist. The men stood well away, their hands on their weapons, muttering incantations and making the sign against evil in my direction. “Sibyl, witch,” they whispered of me. “Better to let them go and have done with it.”
It is an ancient ritual, more often symbolic than physical: anal penetration as humiliation of a despised enemy. Dominic chose it for that reason, and also because he knew that Reynaldo had attempted a kind of violation of me. By now, acting in concert with my husband, I knew there was a third reason. Dominic, vir and dominant, enjoyed coerced sexual relations—rape—at least in thought. He had never indulged this taste with me, nor with Stefan and Niall, or I could not have loved him. Not for years had he allowed himself this ugly forbidden pleasure.
Now Dominic had a reason, and he made the most of it. His wild laugh shrieked in my mind as my husband unleashed the latent cruelty that had been chained within his deepest subconscious during years of domestic tranquility, subdued but not extinguished.
For Dominic, as for any telepath, crypta is more important than looks or social graces or even intelligence when choosing a sexual partner. Despite Reynaldo’s dirt and debased condition, he was still a man, a man with crypta. That matters more than anything. Forcing himself on a gifted man gave Dominic pleasure. That it could be justified as an act of retribution made it all the sweeter. Dominic found every way to increase Reynaldo’s pain, ending the episode only when there was no more he could do.
Dominic withdrew from the bandit’s mind, wiping himself off in disgusted thought, as he would cleanse his body if the rape had been real. I have defiled myself with you, he said to Reynaldo. There was a note of madness in his voice. I have contaminated myself to show you that I do not lie. You were warned, what you did to my wife or my children I would do tenfold to you, but you do not listen.
Reynaldo sobbed as Dominic sent one last realized thought, the kick of a booted foot against the abused flesh. Margrave, Reynaldo said, I wanted only to know where you were, to make arrangements for ransom.
And ‘Gravina Aranyi told you, Dominic said, but you were not satisfied; you had to force yourself on her. Abruptly Dominic switched his attention to me. Amalie, dearest, it will not be long. I will be with you soon and they will all pay, all who have dared to touch you or insult you.
The transition from rage to loving kindness was almost, but not quite, complete. For the first time in my life with Dominic, some of his own hidden madness leaked into his communion with me. Dominic had neither touched nor spoken to me roughly, nor done anything but address me in the warmest, most solicitous way, yet I sensed this element in him, like a wild falcon flailing its wings against being shut up again so soon in the deepest recesses of my husband’s disciplined mind. I felt a twinge of uneasiness at my first direct encounter with this part of Dominic that delighted in cruelty and torture. It had tasted freedom after more than six years. Dominic would not be able to contain it again so easily.
My love, I thought to him, hoping to calm him. I will be safe. The bandits fear you now, more than ever. They will do nothing to make you angry. I reached for him with words and thought, as far as my depleted crypta would allow. My lord husband. My love.
Another voice, another hand, reached for Dominic, from another direction. Companion, the
voice said. My love. Niall was with Dominic, had also witnessed the rape, perhaps had also participated, locked in communion with Dominic, as I had. Niall, too, was frightened by his lover’s exhibition of rage. You must not exhaust yourself, my love, Niall said. We must save our strength for the journey. Through my link with my husband, I felt Niall’s hand on Dominic’s arm, his tentative kiss.
Niall had never seen this aspect of his lover’s personality, whatever he may have heard of Dominic’s reputation. As a gifted young man of good gentry stock, Niall had followed the usual path, entering the ‘Graven Military Academy where Dominic was Weapons Master, sometimes Commandant. But Dominic stayed true to Stefan, and Niall had been for two years an adult by Eclipsian standards, eighteen when he came to Aranyi as Dominic’s lover. Between the two of them there had been, for over a year now, only mutual love and respect. Dominic saw in Niall a reminder of himself, some twenty-five years ago. Niall had found in Dominic someone he could look up to, a leader to emulate, and had not expected to have to set an example of behavior for his older, more experienced, lover.
There was a slow relaxation in Dominic’s taut ferocity at Niall’s touch, then a return of control. Two days, Dominic said, to me and to Reynaldo. I will be there in two days. Then we will– He took a breath. Negotiate.
Reynaldo uncurled himself from the protective ball his body had formed, scrambling to his feet at the resumption of communication. He discovered, as he had known he must, that he was unhurt, whatever his mind had endured. “Two days,” he repeated aloud for the benefit of his men. Very good, Margrave, he spoke deferentially to Dominic. We will be ready.
Ready? Was I imagining it, or was Reynaldo smiling? He had undergone excruciating pain with Dominic’s abuse, pain I had sensed without sharing it. His tears and cries had not been feigned. Yet the incident, now that he knew the worst had passed, had left him in some way triumphant.
I must find a way to enter his mind without his knowledge, I reminded myself. Right now the prospect was as daunting as Jana’s plan of murdering forty men with my spare dagger. My weakness was draining all initiative, all skills of training from me.
My husband embraced me in a quick farewell. Dominic, I said, shielding my thoughts shakily, Dominic, be careful. He is planning something.
So am I, Dominic said. He kissed me on forehead and lips. Try not to worry, Amalie. Look after the children and hold on for two more days. He broke the communion, smoothly but with finality.
Groping in the telepathic ether, too late, I searched for Niall. I had hoped to warn him too. But the connection was gone.
In the interior silence that followed, the noise of my immediate surroundings blasted my ears like coming up from under water. Val was crying, a fretful uneven sound from a strange kind of hunger he had never known before. Jana plucked at my sleeve, saying something I couldn’t yet catch. Reynaldo’s men stood uncertainly, shuffling their feet, waiting for a signal from their leader.
Reynaldo struck out at the men nearest him, cuffing and slapping them indiscriminately. “What are you staring at!” The men bore his blows stoically, used to this treatment, turning in the doorway to leave. Reynaldo had been humiliated in front of them, was venting his own anger in the only way open to him, but the men seemed as loyal and obedient as ever. Their leader had not been defeated, merely shamed. They were willing to wait and see what the passing of two days would bring.
Reynaldo stopped, facing me in the light from the doorway, baring his teeth in a grimace. “I see Margrave Aranyi values his family after all.” He fought a desire to share something with me. “Your lord husband will rush to your rescue. And we will welcome him with open arms.” He made a strange gesture, stretching one arm out in front with closed fist, holding the other hand, fingers curled, beside his ear. “I fear your lord will not enjoy my embrace, any more than I enjoyed his.”
CHAPTER 7
Alone with the children again, my fears were only intensified by what had occurred. Tormenting us was a sure way for Reynaldo to screw up the ransom negotiations. Dominic would not be made more cooperative because of threats to his family’s safety. Instead, as we had all seen, Dominic would respond with anger, with his own murderous vengefulness. Yet Reynaldo had been pleased by Dominic’s violent reaction, however uncomfortable the temporary effects had been. Why? Why would Reynaldo deliberately infuriate someone as dangerous as Dominic? What could Reynaldo hope to gain?
Reynaldo was smart; I doubted he was unaware of the repercussions of his actions. He must want Dominic to think we were being badly treated, and rush wildly to our rescue. The bandits had to be planning something far more complicated than a simple kidnapping for ransom, something that depended on Dominic attacking the bandits’ stronghold and its defenders. Was Reynaldo so sure of this ruined castle’s defenses that he was willing to provoke assault by the best soldier in the ‘Graven Realms?
Reynaldo must intend to kill Dominic, I decided, my stomach lurching at the thought. Dominic and I had both considered the possibility, but it seemed more real now after Reynaldo’s strange behavior. Still, the whole thing made no sense. Killing Dominic could start a war. The other ‘Graven lords, like all Eclipsians, are notoriously reluctant to act as a group. If Margrave Aranyi’s wife was stupid enough to get herself and her children kidnapped, that was his problem. But the ‘Graven would unite immediately to avenge the murder of their peer, not out of love, but from sheer self-interest. A bandit would know that as well as I did. It was why, over the years, there had been many kidnappings, but few murders.
The arrival of supper interrupted my worried musings. As at breakfast, Michaela stood guard while Jana ate. Val, lethargic with the cumulative effects of confinement and his monotonous diet of milk, refused to try the unfamiliar, unappetizing food. I watched the meager rations disappear, terrified by my intense hunger, so desperate for nourishment that if Jana had not been my daughter I would have fought her for every scrap.
Michaela, like her man, was openly confident now, leaning relaxed against the open door, knowing there was little danger of my disobedience. As my telepathic abilities faded along with my energy, I would become the simple hostage the bandits wanted, not a potential saboteur.
Jana finished her hasty meal, wiping her mouth furtively with the back of her hand, but no longer apologetic. Val suckled at will, the ragged dress I wore leaving me perpetually accessible to his demands. I made no more attempts to coax him to eat, nor to restrict his nursing. There was no point in regulating Val’s life as if we were home, making our captivity worse by provoking tantrums. We were all becoming hostages to necessity.
I must make an effort to use my crypta, I told myself, while I had some strength left. I must search Reynaldo’s mind, learn his plans. The intense reflex of disgust I had just experienced at my forced intimacy with the bandit, when Dominic “raped” Reynaldo and I had unwillingly participated, made the task seem especially daunting. With my increasing weakness, I wanted only to rest, safe and secure, in my own consciousness.
Try, I ordered myself when Michaela had locked us in for the night. Try to read Reynaldo’s thoughts. How could I acquiesce in the destruction of my family—from squeamishness? I mustn’t put it off much longer. Soon I would be too feeble to communicate with Dominic, unable to warn him of anything I learned.
Lady Amalie, Reynaldo thought to me, before I realized I had even begun to enter his mind. Your presence does me honor. He spoke in his awkward court speech, knowing it grated on my abraded sensibilities. Are you lonesome? Shall I be your lord husband tonight? I hear you fine ladies have a lusty appetite, but I assure you I’m man enough… The image of the bandit, damp and reeking from the sweat of his recent pain, a hand in his breeches massaging his bulging erection, was superimposed over my brain’s frantic efforts to clear itself. Reynaldo’s sniggering laugh sounded as if he were indeed beside me in the little room, while the suggestion of callused fingertips trailed down my neck onto the swell of a breast.
I was out and b
ack in my own mind, more shielded than I have ever been in my life, my whole body shaking, my heart thumping in my chest with such force that I had to lie down. I have had good training at La Sapienza—the best. I can enter anyone’s mind without his knowledge, anyone except Dominic. We are so delicately attuned that we can form communion simply by one of us thinking of the other.
It is true that intruding surreptitiously on a telepath’s mind is much trickier than with the ungifted, but I had not even begun to try, had only been nerving myself up. And Reynaldo had not merely known my intentions; he had managed to put his own thoughts in my brain, as easily as if we were– as if we shared a communion, like me and Dominic. No, it was not possible. Communion can be forced, but only if there is some sympathy between the two minds involved, or if the one mind is so passive, untrained or unconscious that it cannot defend itself.
As I lay clasping Val to me for comfort, huddled with Jana under my cloak, I could think of no answer to this riddle. Imagine, I thought to myself, a couple of weeks ago my biggest problem was weaning Val.
Val would be two at summer’s end, six Eclipsian weeks from now. Jana had been almost completely weaned to a cup by this age. She had been an easy child in many ways, confident and assured, big for her age and strong, always ready to take the next step toward adulthood. When Jana was a year and a half, Dominic had helped things along. “I don’t suck at the breast,” he had said, teasing her one night at supper. “I drink from a cup.” He demonstrated for her, winking at me while he sipped from a goblet of wine.
The ruse worked. Jana strove to imitate her beloved papa in every way, and although she was torn between her babyish desire to nurse and her papa’s example, he soon won her over. Before long she was shaking her head at my offered nipple, demanding a cup like Papa.
Captivity Page 8