'What's so funny?' Naeros demanded. He snatched her by the hair and studied her face. Ythnel couldn't move her lips to speak, so she just kept laughing. 'Stop that!' Naeros struck her in the face. Her head lolled to the side, free of Naeros's grasp. She could taste blood. She laughed again. Naeros stalked off for a moment. His return was accompanied by a squeaking like old, rusty wagon wheels. Again, Ythnel's head was raised, allowing her to see a wooden cart next to Naeros, laden with various blades.
'I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but apparently I've acquired a nickname from the fair citizens of this great city. They call me 'the Marker.' Do you know why?' He considered the blades on the cart, finally choosing a knife with a jagged, twinch-long blade. 'I suppose it's because I like to leave my guests with a little something to remember me by. Now all I have to do is decide what would be an appropriate symbol of our relationship.
'I know, since you won't cry for me, how about I just make you bleed where those tears should be.' Naeros pressed the knife on the flesh just under Ythnel's right eye, near the bridge of her nose. 'Now don't scream too loudly, or you'll mess up my concentration.' Naeros drew the blade down the side of Ythnel's nose, ending at the edge of the nostril. Ythnel felt only a slight tugging. Naeros's brow furrowed in puzzlement. His lips pinched, and he made a second cut from the outer edge of Ythnel's eye, down her cheek, all the way to her jaw.
Ythnel began to laugh again.
'Impossible.' Naeros's face flushed, and he began to tremble. With a bellow, he assailed Ythnel, pummel-ing her until her vision went black.
CHAPTER SIX
Ythnel floated in a sea of endless black. There was no horizon, no edge to the blackness. It was all around her, enveloping her, insulating her. Beyond the blackness was pain. It pushed against the buffer, sought to puncture the blackness, to drain the sea away until she was left standing there naked and helpless. Ythnel wished it would go away. She was tired of pain. She was afraid of it.
Fear intensifies pain, Headmistress Yenael's voice echoed through the blackness. It creates anticipation, an expectation in the mind. Fear is a tool. Use it.
Ythnel ignored the words. Pain was beating harder against the barrier. She tried to bury herself deeper in the blackness. Her heart raced with fear.
Fear.
A handmaiden was not supposed to fear pain. Pain was the air she breathed, the lover she embraced. Pain was a thing to control, not fear. Fearing pain gave it control.
Slowly, Ythnel let the black fade away. Light appeared, grew, and brought with it pain. Ythnel opened her arms and welcomed it.
Calloused hands supported Ythnel and lifted her while other hands removed the manacles from around her wrists and ankles. Her right shoulder stung, and her face throbbed. Her left eye was swollen shut. Two lines of fire ran down her right cheek. Her feet touched the stone floor, but there was no strength in her legs. She sagged against the hands that held her and tried to focus on her surroundings. Her right eye fluttered open, and she saw two people standing before her.
'You walk a thin line, Naeros. You know Father wants to be notified immediately when one of them is captured.' The woman speaking looked familiar to Ythnel. She wore a sleeveless white tunic over leather breeches. Dark, straight hair, streaked sparingly with white, hung past her shoulders and framed a lean, angular face. The front of the tunic was decorated with a thick, black embroidered circle. Her emphatic gestures drew Ythnel's attention to the corded muscles flexed along the woman's arms. 'He was very upset when he learned you had one secreted away down here. Entropy demands swift judgment against those who transgress Her will.'
'Father could not care less.' Naeros sneered. 'If I didn't know better, Kaestra, I'd say you barged in here hoping to claim some of the credit for capturing this witch by presenting her to Father yourself. Afraid that with our sister's recent successes, she may earn enough favor to replace you as high priestess?'
Kaestra's eyes widened, and her mouth moved as though she wanted to say something. If those eyes were violet instead of brown, and her curves a bit softer, Ythnel realized, Kaestra would bear a striking resemblance to Saestra. Then the impact of Naeros's words struck her. The three were siblings!
'I'm leaving, Naeros, and I'm taking the prisoner with me. I'd suggest you don't make an issue of this.' Kaestra pinned her brother with a look that dared a response. Naeros simply stepped back with a bow. A smug smile spread across Kaestra's face, and she moved up the staircase. The guards followed behind quietly, dragging Ythnel along between them.
Outside the tower, Ythnel squinted in the harsh sunlight as the guards carried her to a waiting cart. The back of the cart was enclosed to form a solid box about five feet high, four feet across, and six feet deep. One of the guards opened the door, and the other shoved Ythnel inside, swinging the door shut behind himself as he entered after her. Sunlight spilled in through bars in the door, bathing Ythnel as she lay on the floor. She pulled herself up onto one of the benches that ran the length of each side while the guard sat staring at her from the other bench, fingering the cudgel hanging from his belt.
'Thanks for the help,' Ythnel said, smiling weakly at her chaperone. The cart took off with a lurch, and she was forced to brace herself with her hands to keep from slipping off the bench. The guard chuckled.
Ythnel ground her teeth and held back a groan as the pain triggered by her sudden movement finally reached the area of her brain that registered those specific nerve impulses. The particular lesson from her training at the manor where she had learned that bit of information was one she would not soon forget. The sisters had somehow removed the top half of the skull of a goblin while it was still alive in order to point out how the brain and nervous system interacted. Ythnel remembered the goblin's pain region being relatively small, which meant it could endure a lot of pain before becoming incapacitated. This was one of the few times she wished she had a goblin's brain.
A person shouldn't have to endure this much pain for this long, she thought. There's no point because there's no time to heal, to harden. That is the purpose of painto make one stronger. She sighed, a long, slow exhalation. And as she emptied herself out, doubt crept in.
Why is this happening to me? When will it be over? Surely, Loviatar has some greater plan for me. I just need to have patience. Just a little longer.
It was a reassuring thought, one that she clung to with desperation. But in the back of Ythnel's mind, a frightened voice echoed.
I don't think I can wait much longer.
Preoccupied as she was, Ythnel did not realize they had stopped until the cart door swung open and a guard reached inside to drag her out. She stumbled onto the white stones that composed most of the roads in Luthcheq, her legs weak but able to support her. They were in a small courtyard adjacent to some sort of outbuilding behind a large, sprawling palace that Ythnel guessed was the Karanoks'. The well-tended grounds, an area easily equal to four city blocks in size, were cordoned off from the general populous by the same thick, towering walls that separated the city from the unsettled wilds.
The palace itself covered half the grounds. A grand marble staircase rose up to a portico that surrounded the first level. A broad architrave decorated with relief sculpture marked the beginning of the second story, and a great dome capped the center of the structure.
Ythnel was led to a small door on the south side of the palace. Kaestra took a key from a pouch at her waist, turned it in the keyhole, pushed the door open, and walked in. The guards shoved Ythnel after her. She found herself in a dark tunnel. About thirty feet in front of her, Kaestra stood running her hand up a wall, as if searching for something. Ythnel saw the wall swing inward to reveal the orange glow of torchlight in another room.
Two men stood at stiff attention next to a rough-hewn wood table with playing cards scattered across its top. Beyond them was a row of barred cells, all empty.
'We have a new prisoner, Corporal Urler,' Kaestra said. 'You know what to do with her.'
'Yes, High Priestess.' One of the dungeon guards hurriedly saluted then fumbled with the keys at his belt. He unlocked the section of bars that led into the row of cells and waved for Ythnel's escorts to follow him. The guard paused before one of the cells, a thoughtful look on his face, then nodded to himself and moved to the next one down. He opened that one and ushered the guards and Ythnel inside. Two sets of manacles, bolted into the wall, were fastened to Ythnel's hands and feet. Their job done, the two escorts withdrew, and the guard with the keys
