Firebrand
Page 163

Estral, pressed up against the slats once more to watch, shuddered. Please, Karigan, don’t be stubborn for once in your life. Tell her something, anything.
She knew, however, that a king’s messenger would not divulge information to the enemy, not willingly, and must resist even under duress. Karigan, with her sense of honor and sheer obstinacy, certainly would not give in without a fight. Estral could see only too clearly where it would all lead. Just this once, Karigan, please, tell her anything.
Nyssa stepped over to the table and drew Karigan’s longsword. She pointed it at Karigan’s midsection. “You’re not just a Greenie, but a swordmaster. How very unusual.” The swordtip then swept to the insignia on Karigan’s right shirtsleeve. “And you wear the sign of the Black Shield on your uniform. Even more unusual. You must be a very special Greenie, indeed. It makes one wonder what a Black Shield Greenie is doing prowling around this forest.”
Karigan said nothing.
“Not going to talk? I should warn you from the outset that I am very passionate about my work and quite happy to engage in it, but I am also fair. All you have to do is tell me what your purpose is here, and what your king is planning. So very simple.”
“We were just looking for a friend!” Estral cried.
Nyssa glanced her way and gave her a withering look. “I did not ask you, and this will be your only warning. If I hear another outburst, I will take it out on this Greenie.”
Estral bit her bottom lip.
“Now,” Nyssa said, returning her attention to Karigan, “I could work on your companion, and maybe she would tell all.”
“No.” Karigan’s voice came choked from the pressure of the cudgel against her throat. “Leave her out of this. She doesn’t know anything.”
Estral’s knees almost gave out at the mere thought of Nyssa coming anywhere near her, and yet, Karigan remained defiant before that terrifying woman. She was, as always, Estral’s steadfast champion. What, Estral wondered, had she done to deserve such a friend?
“Protecting your friend?” Nyssa said. “How sweet. She doesn’t look sturdy enough, anyway. I doubt she would hold up long under questioning, which would be disappointing for me, to say the least, and it is why you, a Green Rider and swordmaster, are standing here. I suspect you are made of sterner stuff. You see, for me, it’s not just about getting answers to my questions, but how I get them. I prefer a little challenge—it keeps life interesting. You know who Grandmother is? Yes, I can see by your expression that you do. Well, even Grandmother calls me a sadist. With love, of course. She has her way of questioning, and I have mine. She isn’t here at the moment, so I get to work on you. But because I am fair, I am offering you a chance to have your say, to tell me your purpose here. As charming as looking for a friend sounds, I find it unlikely.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“Bravely said.” Nyssa smiled and set the longsword aside. “And I am not disappointed.” She ordered the guards to move Karigan forward and clasp irons around her ankles, which were bolted to the floor. “I will not tolerate the footwork you used on the others in the keep.”
Estral, who was terrified just watching, could not imagine how it must be for Karigan.
Karigan’s wrists were then untied and shackled to a beam overhead and hoisted so that she hung almost suspended by her wrists, her toes barely touching the floor, the chains of the ankle irons taut. Nyssa circled her to inspect her guards’ handiwork.
“This will do,” she said. Her attention turned to implements hanging on a nearby wall. She took her time examining them, touching and caressing individual items. Though Estral could not identify them from where she was, she knew they could not be anything good.
Karigan coughed and Nyssa spun on her. “Are you sick?” When Karigan did not reply, she said, “It is a simple question, and if I do not receive an answer, there will be pain. Are you sick? Yes or no.”
Karigan cleared her throat. “No.”
“Excellent,” Nyssa replied. “That is a positive sign you answered, and it is good to know you are not sick. It would not stop me from my work, but it is, you know, very bad for stamina and would force me to adjust how I proceed.” She picked up a thin knife, polished the blade, and checked it front and back. Estral tensed even as she saw Karigan’s posture grow more rigid.
“Since you answered me about your health,” Nyssa continued, “I am going to give you one more chance to tell me what I want to know, and by answering, you will be spared some pain. What is your purpose in the Lone Forest, and what is your king planning?”
Karigan, please tell her, Estral thought. Tell her anything, please . . .
Time and silence stretched to excruciating lengths. All of Estral’s muscles were taut with anxiety as Nyssa gazed at Karigan, rolling the knife across the palm of one hand to the other.
After an interminable wait, Nyssa shrugged. “I guess I will be making you answer. I am pleased.”
“Wait!” Estral cried. “I can tell you!”
Nyssa plunged the knife into Karigan. Karigan gasped and writhed in her shackles. Estral screamed. Nyssa left the knife lodged in place and stalked up to the pen. She reached in and grabbed Estral by the throat, and pulled her into the slats. Estral cried out, tried to pry Nyssa’s fingers loose, to no avail. The woman was insanely strong.
“I told you,” Nyssa said, “that another outburst from you would be bad for your friend. The stabbing is your doing. Now, will you keep your mouth shut? This time was just through muscle—I know how to avoid the organs—but if you open your mouth again, it’ll be much worse.”