Wizard's First Rule

Denna grabbed his chair 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 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 fell 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.