Wizard's First Rule by Terry Goodkind
“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 lips. Her kiss was savage, bestial, as she twisted against him.
Every fiber of his being burned with the torture. His gasp sucked the air from her lungs, hers did the same to him. He could get no breath but hers, she none but his. The pain made him forget everything but her. It marauded through his mind. He knew by the sounds she was making that she was feeling the same agony as he. Her fingers in his hair tightened into fists from the pain. She moaned in suffering. Her muscles tightened with it. It raged through the both of them.
Without comprehending why, he found himself kissing her back just as passionately, just as savagely. The pain was altering his perception of everything. He had never kissed anyone with this kind of lust. Desperately, he wanted her to stop. Desperately, he didn’t.
The strange power awakened again. He tried to reach for it, grasp for it, hold on to it. But it slipped from him and was gone.
The pain was overwhelming him as Denna crushed her lips to his, the Agiel between them, their teeth grating together. She pressed her body to his, hooked a leg around his, clung to him. Her cries of anguish were growing more desperate. He ached to hold her.
As he was about to lose consciousness, she pulled away from him, still gripping his hair in her fists. Tears ran from her eyes as she looked into his, not two inches away. She rolled the Agiel into her mouth with her tongue and held it there with her teeth as she shook with the pain, as if to show him she was stronger than he. Her hand came slowly and took away the Agiel as her eyes rolled back in her head. She gasped for air.
Her brow wrinkled together. Tears from the pain, and from something else, flooded from her eyes. She gave him a kiss. The tenderness, the gentleness, of it, shocked him.
“We are bonded,” she whispered intimately. “Bonded in the pain of the Agiel. I am sorry, Richard.” She brushed his cheek with trembling fingers, the glaze of pain still in her eyes. “Sorry for what I will do to you. You are my mate for life.”
Richard was stunned by the compassion in her voice. “Please, Mistress Denna. Please let me go. Or at least help me stop Darken Rahl. I promise you, I will willingly be your mate for life, if you help me stop him. I swear on my life, if you help me, I will stay without the magic holding me. Forever.”
She put a hand to his chest, to steady herself as she recovered. “Do you think I do not understand what I am doing to you?” Her eyes had an empty gloss to them. “Your training and service will last for mere weeks, before you die. The training of a Mord-Sith lasts for years. Everything I do to you, and more, has been done to me, a thousand times over. A Mord-Sith must know her Agiel better than she knows herself. My first trainer took me for his mate when I was fifteen, after he had trained me since I was twelve. There is no way I could ever live up to his cruelty, or his ability to keep a person on the cusp between life and death. He trained me until I was eighteen, when I killed him. For that, I was punished with the Agiel every day for the next two years. This Agiel. The very same one I use on you was the one used to train me. It was presented to me when I was proclaimed Mord-Sith. I live for nothing else but to use it.”
“Mistress Denna,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
The steel returned to her eyes. She nodded. “You will be. There is no one who will help you. That includes me. You will find that being the mate to a Mord-Sith brings you no added privileges, only a great deal of added pain.”
Richard hung helpless in the shackles, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. Understanding her a little only increased his hopelessness. There was no escape for him. He was the mate of a madwoman.
The frown and the smile returned. “Why would you be so foolish as to do what you did? Surely, you must know I will hurt you for doing it.”
He looked at her puzzlement for a moment. “Mistress Denna, what difference does it make? You are going to hurt me anyway. I can’t imagine what more you could do to me.”
Her lip curled in a sneer. “Oh, my love, you have a very limited imagination.”
He felt her grab the tongue of his belt and yank the buckle open.
She gritted her teeth. “It is time we found some new places on you to hurt. It is time to see what you are really made of.” The look in her eyes made him go cold. “Thank you, my love, for giving me the excuse to do this to you. I have never before done it to another, but it has been done to me enough times. It is what broke me when I was fourteen. Tonight,” she whispered, “neither of us is going to get any sleep.”
42
The bucketful of cold water on his naked flesh barely revived him. He only dimly saw the little rivers of water that were stained bright red as they ran away from him in the cracks of the stone floor his face lay against. Each shallow breath he took was a mighty effort. He wondered idly how many of his ribs she had broken.
“Put your clothes on. We’re leaving,” she called down to him.
“Yes, Mistress Denna,” he whispered, his voice so hoarse from screaming he knew she couldn’t hear him, and knew she would hurt him for not answering, and yet he could do no more.
When the Agiel didn’t come, he moved a little, saw his boot and reached out to it, pulling it to him. He sat up, but couldn’t raise his head above his shoulders. It hung limply. With great difficulty, he started putting on his boot. Gashes on his feet brought tears to his eyes when he pulled.
Her knee to his jaw knocked him flat on his back. She fell on him, sitting on his chest, hitting his face with her fists.
“What’s the matter with you! Are you stupid? Your pants go on before your boots! Do I have to tell you everything!”
&n
She sat on his chest, panting in rage. Her breathing slowed after a time.
“Come on. I will help you.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Come on, my love. You’ll be able to rest while we travel.”
“Yes, Mistress Denna.” The sound of his voice was hardly more than a breath.
She kissed him again. “Come on, my love. It will be better, now that I have broken you. You will see.”
A closed carriage stood waiting for them in the dark. Clouds from the horses’ breath rose and drifted slowly in the cold, still air. Richard stumbled a few times as he walked behind her, trying to keep the proper slack to the chain. He had absolutely no idea how long it had been since she had decided he was to be her mate, nor did it matter to him. A guard opened the carriage door.
Denna tossed the end of his chain on the floor. “Get in.”
Richard grabbed the sides of the door. He dimly heard someone approach in a huff. Denna gave a little tug to the chain, indicating she wanted him to wait where he was.
“Denna!” It was the Queen, at the head of her advisors.
“Mistress Denna,” she corrected.
The Queen looked to be in a foul mood. “Where do you think you are going with him?”
“That is none of your concern. It is time we were on our way. How is the Princess?”
The Queen glowered. “We don’t know if she will live. I will be taking the Seeker. He is to pay.”
“The Seeker is the property of myself and of Master Rahl. He is being punished, and will continue to be punished until either Master Rahl, or myself, kills him. There is nothing you could do to him that could equal what is already being done.”
“He is to be executed. Right now.”
Denna’s voice was as cold as the night air. “Go back to your castle, Queen Milena, while you still have a castle.”
Richard saw a knife in the Queen’s hand. The guard standing next to him unhooked his battle-axe, gripping it tightly in his fist. There was a crystal clear moment of silence.
The Queen backhanded Denna and lunged with the knife for Richard. Denna effortlessly caught her with the Agiel against her large chest.
As the guard went past him, raising the axe to Denna, the strange power roared awake. Richard summoned all his strength, became one with the power. He hooked his left arm around the guard’s throat and drove his knife home. Denna gave a casual glance back as the man let out a death scream. She smiled, and her eyes glided back to the Queen, who stood shaking, paralyzed in place, the Agiel between her breasts. Denna gave a twist to the Agiel. The Queen dropped straight down in a heap.
Denna turned her glare to the Queen’s advisors. “The Queen’s heart has given out.” She arched an eyebrow. “Unexpectedly. Please express my condolence to the people of Tamarang on the death of their ruler. I would suggest you find a new ruler who is more attentive to the wishes of Master Rahl.”
They all gave a quick bow. The awakened power flickered and was gone. The effort of stopping the guard had taken all the strength Richard had left. His shaking legs would no longer hold him. The ground tilted and came up to meet him.
Denna grabbed his chain near the collar, raising his head off the ground. “I didn’t tell you to lie down! You were not given permission! On your feet!”
He couldn’t move. She drove the Agiel into his stomach, dragged it up his chest, to his throat. Richard convulsed in pain, but could not make his body respond to her wishes.
“Sorry…” he breathed.
She let his head drop to the ground when she realized he wasn’t able to move and turned to the guards. “Put him inside.”
She climbed in after him, yelling up to the driver to be off, and pulled the door shut. Richard slumped back as the carriage jerked ahead.
“Please, Mistress Denna,” he said in a slur, “forgive me for letting you down, for failing to stand as you wished. I’m sorry. I will do better in the future. Please punish me to teach me to be better.”
She gripped the chain, close to the collar, her knuckles white, lifting him from the seat back. Her lips curled in a sneer over gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare die on me now, not yet; you have things to do first.”
His eyes were closed. “As you command… Mistress Denna.”
She let go of the chain, took his shoulders, laid him across the seat, and gave him a kiss on his forehead. “You have my permission to rest now, my love. It’s a long way. You will have a long time to rest, before it starts again.”
Richard felt her fingers smoothing his hair back and the bouncing of the carriage as it sped along the road, and was asleep.
From time to time, he came partly awake, never fully conscious. Sometimes Denna sat next to him, letting him lean against her as she spooned food into his mouth. Swallowing was painful, almost more effort than he could bring forth. He winced with each spoonful, his hunger not sufficient to overcome the pain in his throat, and he turned his head from the spoon. Denna murmured encouragement to him, urging him to eat for her. Doing it for her was the only thing he responded to.
Whenever a bump in the road brought him awake suddenly, he would clutch at her for protection, safety, until she told him it was nothing, and to go back to sleep. He knew that sometimes he slept on the ground, sometimes in the carriage. He saw nothing of the countryside they traveled through, nor did he care. As long as she was near him, that was all that mattered; nothing else was important, except being ready to do as she commanded. A few times, he slowly came awake to find her wedged into the corner with him stretched out, his cloak tucked around him, his head on her breast, as she stroked his hair. When it happened, he tried not to let her know he was awake, so she wouldn’t stop.
When this happened, and he felt the warm comfort of her, he also felt the power in him come awake. He didn’t try to reach it, to hold it; he only noted it. One time when it happened, he recognized it, knew what it was. It was the magic of the sword.
As he lay against her, feeling the need of her, the magic stood within him. He touched it, fondled it, felt its power. It was like the power he had called forth when he was going to kill with the sword, but different in a way he couldn’t understand. The power he had known before, he could no longer feel. Denna had that power now, but this she didn’t. When he tried to grasp the magic, it vanished, like vapor. A dim part of his mind wanted its help, but since he couldn’t control it, call it forth to aid him, he lost interest in it.
As the time passed, his wounds began healing over. Each time he came awake he was a little more alert. By the time Denna announced that they had arrived at their destination, he was able to stand by himself, although he was still not completely clearheaded.
In the darkness, she led him from the carriage. He watched her feet as she walked, keeping the proper slack in the chain attached to her belt. Even though he kept his eyes on her, he still noticed the place they were entering. It was immense, dwarfing the castle at Tamarang. Walls stretched off into the nothingness of the distance, towers and roofs rose to dizzying heights. He was aware enough to note that the design of the vast structure was elegant and graceful. It was imposing, but not harsh, not forbidding.
Denna led him through halls of polished marble and granite. Columns held majestic arches to the sides. As they walked on and on, he noticed how his strength had grown. He wouldn’t have been able to stand for this long even a few days ago.
They saw no other people. Richard looked up at her braid, and thought about how pretty her hair was, how lucky he was to have such a fine mate. At the thought of his caring for her, the power rose up. Before it had a chance to fade, the dim, locked-away part of his mind grabbed it, held it, while the rest of his mind thought about his affection for her. The realization that he had control of it made him stop thinking about her, and grab the hope of escape. The power evaporated.
Denna went through a door, closing it behind him. A window with a pointed top was trimmed with simple drapes and open to the darkness outside. There was a bed with a thick blanket and fat pillows. The floor was polished wood. Lamps stood lit on the table next to the bed, and on the table with a chair on the other side of the room. There were cabinets of dark wood built into one wall next to another door. A stand held a basin and pitcher.
Denna unhooked his chain. “These are my quarters. Since you are my mate, you will be permitted to sleep here if you please me.” She hooked the loop over the post of the footboard, snapped her fingers, and pointed at the floor at the foot of the bed. “You may sleep there tonight. On the floor.”
He looked at the floor. The Agiel laid on the top of his shoulder took him to his knees.
“I said on the floor. Now.”
“Yes Mistress Denna, I’m sorry Mistress Denna.”
“I’m exhausted. I don’t want to hear another sound out of you tonight. Understand?”
He nodded, afraid to voice his agreement.
“Good.” She flopped facedown in the bed and was asleep in moments.
Richard rubbed the hurt in his shoulder. It had been a while since she had used the Agiel on him. At least she hadn’t chosen to draw blood. Maybe, he reasoned, she didn’t want blood in her quarters. No, Denna liked his blood. He lay down on the floor. He knew that tomorrow she was going to hurt him some more. He tried not to think about it; he was just getting healed from before.
He was awake before her; the shock of being awakened by the Agiel was something he wanted to avoid. A bell rang with a long peal. Denna woke, lay on her back awhile, saying nothing, then sat up, checking that he was awake.
“Morning devotions,” she announced. “That was the bell, the call. After devotions, you will be trained.”