Page 17 of Agor the Merciless
His eyes darkened, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
“I didn’t lie. I changed…”
“Liar!” she screamed. “You’re no different from the men I left behind. They wanted to keep me small, too. They wanted me pretty, and quiet, and useless!”
His composure broke. With a harsh intake of breath, he lunged, moving too fast for her to react. His fingers wrapped around her wrist.
She twisted in his grip.
“Let me go!”
She dug her nails into his forearm, but they left only white marks on his thick skin. He dragged her toward the bed and the iron bolt. He caught her other wrist, pinning both in one hand while forcing her down onto the furs. From his belt he pulled a length of rope.
“Agor, stop.”
She bucked against him, trying to throw him off, but he was immovable. He looped the rope around her wrists, binding them to the iron bolt above the bed.
“Please. Don’t do this. This is not the right time.”
He stood over her. His expression wavered for a moment, then hardened into a blank mask. Without a word, he turned his back on her. He crossed the cavern in five strides. At the entrance, he paused, half-turned as if to speak, then continued into the dark tunnel. His footsteps receded down the passage until silence filled the chamber.
She thrashed against her bonds. It was a good thing he hadn’t ravished her, like she’d thought he would, but still, this didn’t make things better. Her throat burned as she screamed both curses and pleas. She sensed more than saw the light fading outside the cave. The torch hissed, its flame shrinking as the oil burned away. The scattered candles cast a weak light against the encroaching darkness.
Time stretched on, marked only by the burning in her shoulders and the gnawing emptiness in her stomach. Her anger cooled, leaving a dull ache that settled deep in her bones. Her strength ebbed, and she sagged against the ropes. The sweet scent of the furs under her now seemed sickly and cloying. This bed, their sanctuary, was now a prison, and the stone walls seemed to press in from all sides.
She had escaped her family’s manipulation only to find herself literally bound by Agor’s idea of protection. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
The crunch of gravel in the tunnel jolted her. The sound was wrong – not Agor’s heavy footfalls, but lighter, cautious steps that hesitated, then advanced. She went still, every muscle tensed. Had he sent someone to free her? Had he reconsidered?
The steps drew closer. A figure emerged from the tunnel. The silhouette paused at the threshold, then stepped into the weak candlelight. It was Pira, clutching a small basket to her chest. Her eyes widened at the sight of Zoe tied to the wall, and her face crumpled with pity.
Chapter Ten
“Gods,” Pira whispered, rushing across the stone floor. Setting her basket down, she reached toward the bindings, her fingers hovering over the coarse rope.
“Please untie me,” Zoe said.
Pira’s hands stopped, then fell to her sides. Her shoulders slumped.
“I cannot.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
Pira shook her head. “The captain sent me. Ordered me to bring food and water.” She gestured to the basket with a small jerk of her chin. “But his orders were clear. No one touches the rope. Only him.”
“That’s insane! He can’t just…”
“He is the captain. His word is our law.”
“So, you’ll leave me like this?” Zoe’s vision blurred with unshed tears.
Pira lowered herself onto the edge of the fur-covered bed. She arranged her skirts around her knees.
“No. I’ll stay. Help you eat. And drink.” She pulled bread and dried meat from the basket, the aroma of the crust filling the room. “Then I’ll keep you company until he returns.”
Zoe’s throat tightened with frustration. She turned her face away.
“Not hungry,” she muttered.
