Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [313]
Turning his head a little, he saw Denna. She was stretched out at an angle in a wooden chair with her ankles crossed. Her right elbow rested on a simple wooden table as she spooned something into her mouth from a bowl she held in her other hand. She was watching him.
He thought maybe he should say something. “Where are your men?”
Denna kept chewing for a time as she watched him. At last she set the bowl down and pointed at a spot on the floor next to her.
Her voice was calm, almost gentle. “Come and stand here.”
With great difficulty, Richard rose to his feet and walked to stand where she had pointed. She watched him without emotion as he stood looking down at her. He waited in silence. She stood and with her boot pushed the chair back out of the way. She was almost as tall as he. She turned her back to him as she picked up a glove off the table and worked it onto her right hand, pushing the fingers down tight.
Abruptly she spun around, backhanding him across the mouth. The armored back of the glove split his lip open on his teeth.
Immediately, before the anger could grip him, he thought about a beautiful place in the Hartland Woods. His eyes watered from the sting of the gash.
Denna gave him a warm smile. “You forgot the appellation, my pet. I told you before; you are to address me as Mistress, or as Mistress Denna. You are lucky to have me as your trainer; most Mord-Sith are not as lenient as I. They would have used the Agiel at the first offense. But I have a soft spot in my heart for good-looking men, and besides, even though the glove isn’t a very effective punishment, I must admit I rather favor using it. I like to feel the contact. The Agiel is exhilarating, but there is no substitute for using your own hands to feel what you’re doing.” She gave a little frown, her voice hardening. “Take your hand away.”
Richard took his hand off his mouth and held both at his sides. He could feel the blood dripping from his chin. Denna watched it in satisfaction. Unexpectedly, she leaned forward and licked some of the blood off his chin, smiling at the taste. It seemed to excite her. She pressed herself against him, but this time she sucked his lip in her mouth and bit it, hard, on the cut. Richard squeezed his eyes shut, his hands in fists, and held his breath until she backed away, licking the blood from her lips with a smile. He shook with the pain, but held the vision of the Hartland Woods in his mind.
“That was just a gentle warning, as you will soon learn. Now, repeat the question properly.”
Richard decided on the spot that he would call her Mistress Denna, and that it would, to him, be a term of disrespect, and that he would never, ever, call her simply Mistress. It would be his way of fighting her, of keeping his self-respect. In his own mind at least.
Richard took a deep breath to steady his voice. “Where are your men, Mistress Denna?”
“Much better,” she cooed. “Most Mord-Sith don’t allow those in training to talk, or to ask questions, but I think that becomes boring. I rather like to talk to my trainee. As I said, you are lucky to have me.” She gave him a cool smile. “I’ve sent my men away. I no longer need them. They are only used for capture, and to hold the captive until he uses his magic against me; then they are no longer needed. There is nothing you can do to get away, or fight back. Nothing.”
“And why do I still have my sword, and knife?”
Too late, he remembered. With an arm he blocked her fist to his face. The act of stopping her brought the pain of the magic. The Agiel came up into his stomach. He rolled over on the ground, crying out in agony.
“Stand up!”
Richard choked off the anger to shut away the pain of the magic. The pain of the Agiel didn’t fade so quickly. He came to his feet with great difficulty.
“Now, get