Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [350]
“Denna,” he whispered. “You could just let me go; there is no need to do this. Please. Let me go. Don’t make me have to do this.”
She held her chin up. “If you try to leave, I will stop you with the pain of the magic, and make you sorry you have been trouble to me. I am Mord-Sith. I am your mistress. I can be no more than who I am. You can be no less, my mate.”
He nodded sadly, and put the tip of the sword between her breasts, the tears in his eyes and the white glow making it difficult to see.
Denna gently took the tip of the sword and moved it up a few inches. “My heart is here, my love.”
Holding the sword against her, he bent and put his left arm tenderly around her soft shoulders. He held the power with all his strength as he kissed her cheek.
“Richard,” she whispered, “I have never had a mate like you before. I’m glad I will have no other. You are a very rare person. You are the only person since I was chosen who has cared that I was in pain, or done anything to stop it. Thank you for last night, for teaching me what it could be like.”
Tears dripped from his face. He held her close. “Forgive me, my love.”
She smiled. “Everything. Thank you for calling me ‘my love.’ It is good to hear it once in truth before I die. Twist the sword, to be sure it is finished. And Richard, please, take my last breath? As I have taught you? I wish you to have my last breath of life.”
In a daze, he put his mouth over hers, kissing her, and didn’t even feel his right hand moving. There was no resistance. The sword went through her as if she were gossamer. He felt his hand twist the sword, and he took her last breath of life.
He laid her gently back on the bed, lay down next to her, and wept uncontrollably as he stroked her ashen face.
He grieved to undo what he had done.
CHAPTER 44
It was deep in the night when he left Denna’s quarters. The halls were empty except for flickering shadows. Richard’s footsteps echoed from the polished stone floors and walls as he walked in a mournful daze, watching his shadow rotate around himself as he passed torches, feeling comfort only at having his pack on his back once more, and to be leaving the People’s Palace. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he was going to go away from here.
The pain of an Agiel in the small of his back slammed him to a halt, brought sweat instantly to his face as he tried to take a breath, but couldn’t. Fire seared through his hips and legs.
“Going somewhere?” came a ruthless whisper.
Constance.
His shaking hand struggled to reach his sword. She laughed as she watched him. A vision of giving her control of the magic, of the whole nightmare starting over again, flashed through his mind. His hand backed away from the sword and kept the anger of the magic in check. She came around to stand before him, her arm around him, holding the Agiel against his back, keeping his legs paralyzed. She was wearing her red leather.
“No? Not ready to try to use the magic on me yet? You will. You will try before long; you will try to save yourself with it.” She smiled. “Save yourself the extra pain, use it now. Maybe I will have mercy on you if you try it now.”
Richard thought about all the ways Denna had given him pain, and how she had taught him to tolerate it, so she could give him more. He brought to bear everything he had learned. He controlled the pain, blocking it enough to draw a deep breath.
He swept his left arm around Constance, forcing her body tight against himself. He grabbed the Agiel in his fist, Denna’s Agiel, hanging from his neck. Pain shot up his arm. He