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“He is to be executed. Right now.”
De
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 De
As the guard went past him, raising the axe to De
De
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.
De
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 De
She gripped the chain, close to the collar, her knuckles white—lifting him from the seat back. Her lips curled 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 De
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 fell asleep.
From time to time, he came partly awake, never fully conscious. Sometimes De
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. De
As the time passed, his wounds began healing over. Each time he came awake he was a little more alert. By the time De
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.
De
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.
His heart sank. What did it matter, he thought—he was never going to escape, and why would he want to anyway? He was De
De
De
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 De
“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, De