"Ah, some of the more occult magic interests you, at long last, Sister Nicci?"
Nicci had never before been interested in what Sister Lidmila had occasionally pestered her to learn. Magic was a selfish pursuit. Nicci learned what she had to, but never went out of her way to go beyond, to the more unusual spells.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I believe I am at last ready."
"I always told the Prelate that you were the only one at the palace with the power for the conjuring I know." The woman leaned close. "Dangerous conjuring, it is, too."
"It should be passed on, while you are able."
Sister Lidmila nodded with satisfaction. "I believe you are old enough.
I could show you. When?"
"I will come see you. . tomorrow." Nicci glanced toward the door. "I don't believe I will be able to take a lesson tonight."
"Tomorrow, then."
"If I. . do come around to see you, I will be most eager to learn. I especially wish to know about the maternity spell."
From what Nicci knew of it, the oddly named maternity spell might be just what she needed. It had the further advantage that once invoked, it was inviolate.
Sister Lidmila straightened and again touched her fingers to her lower lip. A look of concern crossed her face.
"My, my. That one, is it? Well, yes, I could teach you. You have the ability-few do. I'd trust none but you to be able to bring such a thing to life; it requires tremendous power of the gift. You have that. As long as you understand and are willing to accept the cost involved, 1 can teach you."
Nicci nodded. "I will come when 1 can, then."
The old Sister ambled on down the hall, deep in thought, already thinking about the lesson. Nicci didn't know if she would live to take the lesson.
After she had watched the old Sister vanish around the corner, Nicci entered a quiet room lit by myriad candles and lamps. The high ceiling was edged with a painted leaf-and-acorn design. Plush couches and chairs upholstered in muted browns were set about on thick carpets of rich yellows, oranges, and reds, making them look like a forest floor in the autumn. Heavy drapes had been pulled closed across an expanse of windows. Two Sisters sitting on a couch leaped to their feet.
"Sister Nicci!" one virtually shouted in relief.
The other ran to the double doors at the other side of the room and opened one without knocking, apparently by instruction. She stuck her head into the room beyond to speak in a low voice Nicci couldn't hear.
The Sister leaped back when Jagang, in the inner room, roared, "Get out! All of you! Everyone else out!"
Two more young Sisters, no doubt personal attendants to the emperor, burst out of the room. Nicci had to step out of the way as all four gifted women made for the doorway leading out of the apartment. A young man Nicci hadn't noticed in the corner joined the women. None even glanced in Nicci's direction as they rushed to do as they were ordered. The first lesson you learned as a slave to Jagang was that when he told you to do something, he meant you to do it right now. Little provoked him more than delay.
At the door to the inner room, a woman Nicci didn't recognize ran out, following close on the heels of the others. She was young and beautiful, with dark hair and eyes, probably a captive picked up somewhere along the long march, and no doubt used for Jagang's amusement. Her eyes reflected a world gone mad for her.
Such were the unavoidable costs if the world was to be brought to a state of order. Great leaders, by their very nature, came with shortcomings in character, which they themselves viewed as mere peccadilloes. The far-ranging benefits Jagang would bring to the poor suffering masses of humanity far outweighed his crass acts of personal gratification and the relatively petty havoc he wrought. Nicci was often the object of his transgressions. It was a price worth paying for the help that would eventually accrue to the helpless; that was the only matter that could be considered.
The outer door closed and the apartment was finally empty of everyone but Nicci and the emperor. She stood erect, head held high, arms at her sides, relishing the quiet of the place. The splendor meant little to her, but quiet was a luxury she had come to appreciate, even if it was selfish.
In the tents there was always the noise of the army pressed close around.
Here, it was quiet. She glanced around the spacious and elaborately decorated outer room, contemplating the idea that Jagang would have acquired the taste for such places. Perhaps he, too, simply wanted quiet.
She turned back to the inner room. He was just inside, waiting, watching her, a muscled mass of fury coiled in rage.
She strode directly up to him. "You wished to see me, Excellency?"
Nicci felt a stunning pain as the back of his beefy hand whipped across her face. The blow spun her around. Her knees hit the floor. He yanked her to her feet by her hair. The second time, she clouted the wall before crashing to the floor again. Stupefying pain throbbed through her face. When she had her bearings, she got her legs under her and stood before him again.
The third time, she took a freestanding candelabrum down with her. Candles tumbled and rolled across the floor. A long wisp °f sheer curtain she had snatched as she grabbed for support ripped away and drifted down over her as she and an upturned table slammed to the floor. Glass shattered. Metal clattered as small items bounded away.
She was dizzy and stunned, her vision faltering. Her eyes felt as if they might have burst, her jaw as if it had been shattered, her neck as if the muscles had ripped.. Nicci lay sprawled on the floor, savoring the strident waves of pain, wallowing 'n the rare sensation of feeling.
She saw blood splattered across the light fringe of the carpet beneath her and across the warns glow of wooden flooring. She heard Jagang yelling something at her, but she couldn't make out the words over the ringing in her ears. With a shaky arm pushed herself up onto her hip. Blood warmed her fingers when she touched them to her mouth. She relished the hurt. It had been so long since she had felt anything, except for that too brief moment with the Mord-Sith.
This was a glorious wash of agony.
Jagang's brutality was able to reach down into the abyss, not only because of the cruelty itself, but because she knew she need not suffer it.
He, too, knew that she was here by her choice, not his. That only intensified his anger, and thus, her sensations.
His rage seemed lethal. She merely noted the fact that she very probably wouldn't leave the room alive. She would probably not get to learn Sister Lidmila's spells. Nicci simply waited to discover what fate had already decided for her.