“I hope you enjoyed your introduction to the realms of dreams, foul wench,” sneered Heguir. “You shall only linger there again once I have your name and you abase yourself before me.”
The room swam in Sabit’s sight. Her shoulder hurt, like a glowing ember had been encased within the skin. Her hands were still chained above her head. She lay on the same straw mat Judging from the angle of the light, it was still afternoon. Her fingers and side where the boar had cut her in the woods were stiff and sore—like old wounds on a cold morning—but the hot sharp pain of them was merely a memory.
“Let me try again, Master,” begged Rayshabu, rising to her knees. “This one is stubborn but I know I can get you her name. Please!”
Heguir slapped the girl across the face, his heavy gold rings leaving bruises upon her soft cheek.. “I gave you a chance, Rayshabu. You will not be coddled. This is not your father’s house in Bahteel where failure is met without consequence.” Heguir picked out the silver parrot necklace from the many that adorned his neck. Rayshabu sobbed.
“Your magic failed to to win you my name, flesh-peddler,” Sabit snarled. “You have lost, Heguir. You had best kill me now. For I will slip these shackles and hang you by your own chain. You don’t know who I am and neither does anyone you hold in your thrall. You are beaten.”
Heguir dropped the necklace, his lips twisting into a cruel grin. “You have fogotten just who I hold in my thrall. You may have held strong against the pampered lady of Bahteel, but no woman defies Heiguir. Guards! Bring her!”
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Wayfarings of Sabit: Chains is copyright (c) 2018 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every Thursday (and the occasional Monday). You can support this and other stories on Patreon: https://patreon.com/michaelsmiller Find more sword and sorcery fiction at http://ipressgames.com/fiction/.