Medieval 02 - Forbidden

from the corner of her eye.
    “Touch him,” Duncan said distinctly, looking at Amber.
    A chill gathered in Amber.
    “A few moments of discomfort, I believe you said?” Duncan asked in a soft voice.
    Amber turned to Egbert, who was watching her with fear in his eyes.
    “This won’t hurt you,” she said quietly. “Hold out your hand.”
    “But Erik will hang me if I touch you!”
    “Erik,” Duncan said in a dangerous voice, “is no longer lord of this keep. I am. Your hand, squire.”
    Jerkily, Egbert held out his hand to Amber. She put a single fingertip against it, flinched subtly, and turned to Duncan.
    The pallor of Amber’s skin angered Duncan all over again.
    “Why so pale, witch?” he asked. “Egbert is but a half-grown boy. Compared to a man’s passion, it must be less than a candle flame against a roaring hearth fire.”
    “Is that a question?” Amber asked.
    Duncan’s mouth flattened. He switched his savage attention to the squire.
    “If you remain at the keep, will you be loyal to me?” Duncan asked.
    “I—I—”
    “Amber?” Duncan demanded.
    “No,” she said tonelessly. “He would be for-sworn. His oath has been given to Erik. Egbert may be lazy, but he values his honor.”
    Duncan grunted.
    “You will leave for Winterlance at dawn,”Duncan said to Egbert. “If you are seen outside your quarters before then, you will be presumed to be an enemy bent on treachery, and you will be treated as such. Go.”
    Egbert all but ran from the solar.
    “Bring the next one, Simon.”
    Cassandra made an involuntary motion of her hand as though to intervene.
    “Be still or begone,” Duncan said coldly. “The witch was Erik’s weapon once. Now she is mine.”
     
    T HE hearth fire was freshened three times before Duncan sorted through the keep’s squires, men-at-arms, and servants. The squires were all loyal to their oaths and to Erik. The men-at-arms were locally born. They were loyal to the keep rather than to any one lord. It was the same for the servants, who were drawn from the keep’s families.
    When the last scrying was done, Amber slumped in a chair near the fire, too weary even to hold her cold hands out to the flames. Pale and tightly drawn, her face was a silent rebuke to the man who had used her too hard.
    “May I offer my daughter refreshment?” Cassandra asked.
    Though the Learned woman’s voice was neutral, Duncan felt as though he had been slapped.
    “It is within her reach,” he said curtly. “If she wishes to eat or drink, she has but to stretch out her hand.”
    “She is too spent.”
    “Why?” Duncan’s voice was angry. “She said it was but a few moments of discomfort.”
    “There is a candle next to you,” Cassandra said. “Hold your hand on the tip of the flame.
    He looked at her as though she had lost her mind.
    “Do you think I’m mad?” he asked.
    “I think you wouldn’t ask your knights to do anything that you wouldn’t do yourself. Am I correct?”
    “Aye.”
    “Excellent,” Cassandra hissed. “Then hold your hand over the candle flame, lord. The space of two breaths, no more than three.”
    “No,” Amber said dully. “He didn’t know.”
    “Then he will learn. Won’t you, proud lord?”
    Duncan narrowed his eyes at the naked challenge in Cassandra’s voice. Without a word he stripped off one gauntlet and held his hand over the candle flame for the space of one breath.
    Two breaths.
    Three.
    “And now?” he challenged Cassandra, drawing back from the flame.
    “Do it again. Same hand. Same skin.”
    “No!” Amber said, reaching for the wine. “I’m well, mentor. See? I drink and eat.”
    Duncan put his hand in the flame again. Same hand. Same place on his palm.
    One breath, two, three.
    Then he withdrew and looked at Cassandra.
    She smiled savagely. “Again.”
    “Are you—” Duncan began.
    “Then again,” Cassandra continued. “And then again. Thirty-two times—”
    Comprehension came to Duncan in a wave of coldness. That was the exact number of people whose truth Amber had questioned by touch.
    “—until your flesh smokes and burns and you want to cry out, but don’t, for it would change nothing, especially the pain.”
    “ Enough .”
    “Why so shocked, proud lord?” Cassandra mocked softly. “As you said, the candle is only a shadow of the hearth fire. But the flame…the flame burns just as deeply in time.”
    “I didn’t know,” Duncan said through his teeth.
    “Then you had better learn the