Chapter 7: False Hope

My year long experience in the slave mines of Endovier taught me the futility of trying to reason why I am being made to do certain things. The only difference here is that my daily routine is a mixture of pleasure and pain. In Endovier it was a mixture of pain and even worse pain. I suppose Maeve has a different objective to that of the overseers of Endovier, but how she intends to achieve her end goal is still beyond my understanding. But I’m only a slave and it isn’t necessary for me to understand my betters.

Between them, Maeve and Nisa have trained me to the point where I feel lost if my routine of abuse and punishment is changed. I perform all my bodily functions to a timetable, and I haven’t soiled my box or cage in weeks. Even so, my daily routine is gradually changing. During the day I wear the heavy chains less and less, although I don’t resist when Nisa places them on me. The only time when I always wear the chains is when I’m locked in my iron box.

My mind is still confused between my desire to please my owner, and my own lingering sense of wrongness. My treatment at the hands of Cairn have systematically degraded and humiliated me to the stage that I no longer refuse any act which is demanded of me. Cairn takes particular delight in trying to make me sink lower into the depths of depravity. Apart from my refusal to beg for mercy under his whip, I generally comply with his disgusting demands.

My biggest fear isn’t for myself. It’s for Rowan. I love Rowan, as I know he loves me. I desperately want him to be safe. Which means he needs to keep far away from Doranelle. Unfortunately the more I think about Maeve’s actions, the more I realise that she’s luring Rowan to Doranelle. No self respecting Fae male can stand idly aside while his mate is abused in the way Maeve is treating me. And word of my plight will undoubtedly have reached Rowan’s ear. When Rowan does come, Maeve will put me on display like some marionette; to perform tricks to her command. Rowan will undoubtedly respond violently, just as I would if our situations were reversed. Doing so will undoubtedly break whatever terms have been agreed for his safe passage, and expose him to being placed in Maeve’s thrall once again. As strong and powerful as Rowan may be, his magic is no match for what Maeve has at her command.

I lose count of the days and weeks since my surrender. Eight weeks at least, possibly as many as ten. For the sake of relieving my boredom, I experiment with my wildfire when I’m locked inside my box. Before long I realise that I can do a lot more with my wildfire than create huge blasts of flame and destruction. My earlier trick with the unlit torch is only a sample of the more delicate uses of wildfire which I practice to relieve my boredom. I’m immune to the heat and flames created by wildfire, but I need to be careful of the consequences of its effect on other things. I can make pretty patterns of different coloured wildfire along the links of my chains, but accidentally welding the links together would cause me problems. A more practical use of wildfire provides me with light at night if I start to feel claustrophobic. Fortunately that’s very rare, but my mind is always active despite my predicament. Occasionally my line of thought triggers unusual feelings and emotions.

Nisa never again tries the magic linking she and Maeve call swaying. I realise now that it’s a magic talent only a few Fae possess. Nisa used swaying to influence my beliefs, and I tried to reciprocate, even if I didn’t fully realise what I was doing. Later she modified that influence, but she wasn’t able to remove it entirely. Can I complete the task on my own? I try, but wildfire on its own isn’t sufficient, and my power is still too weak to create the missing magic. I need to be able to draw on Nisa’s or another Fae’s power to assist me. Nevertheless I feel better for the effort. My thoughts seem to come into sharper focus as though I’ve untangled a rope ... or tidied a pile of books. But I have no doubt that some of Maeve’s values and beliefs are still etched into my mind. Unfortunately I’ve no means of identifying which ones they are.

My improved state of mind doesn’t make my physical situation any better. Cairn is still as obnoxious and brutal as ever. My body responds the way it does because of the physical rather than the magical abuse I endure. I’m in no position to protect myself. I’m not foolish enough to attempt to blindly use my wildfire in the presence of so many magic wielders.

During the third month of my captivity the inevitable happens. Rowan arrives in Doranelle. He doesn’t bother trying to sneak into the city. He would have been foolish to try in any case. Maeve would soon discover any attempt at subterfuge. As I anticipated Maeve readily grants Rowan an audience. I’m kept in the next room, locked in my iron box, for the whole meeting. Afterwards, he’s allowed to talk with me through the air holes in the lid to my box. His meeting with Maeve has been unsuccessful. No surprise there. Surely he knew before he came here that any prospect of him freeing me through negotiation or ransom was a false hope. He can offer me no words of reassurance, and he refuses my pleas for him to leave Doranelle while he can. I know what he will try to do next. Unfortunately Maeve undoubtedly knows as well and she’ll be ready.

I’m kept in my box the whole day. Once again food arrives through the hatch in the box. Golden nectar arrives through the air holes. I eat the food and drink the foul tasting liquid. I do my best not to soil my box, but I’m confined for so long that I can’t help it.

Rowan is standing next to Nisa and Maeve when my box is opened the next day. I’ve no means of disguising the smell or the evidence of my bodily waste. Maeve has undoubtedly planned this exhibition so as to goad Rowan into a violent response. One which will end badly for him. Fortunately my calm demeanour stays Rowan’s hand. I’m too accustomed to this sort of treatment to feel any embarrassment or humiliation. Nisa detaches the ankle chains holding me in place. I wait patiently until I’m ordered to get out of the box.

“Filthy, disgusting slave,” sneers Maeve when she sees the state of my box. “Clean it up at once. Nisa; fetch Cairn so that he can administer the correct punishment.”

“Wait,” calls Rowan. “I came here in good faith to plead for my wife’s freedom. You will treat her with respect while we negotiate the terms for her release.”

“I will treat her exactly as I want to treat her, Prince Rowan,” snaps Maeve. “She surrendered herself to me on the shores of Eyllwe. She’s my slave and will be until her dying breath. Our so-called negotiations ended yesterday. You may say goodbye to my slave ... once she’s received her punishment for soiling her box. Then you will depart Doranelle or suffer the consequences.”

I obey Maeve’s command and go to the side chamber to fetch what I need to clean my box. I don’t see what happens next but when I return I see Rowan being restrained by two of Maeve’s guards. Four more guards are standing ready by the door. Rowan is spoiling for a fight, but against such odds he’ll never win. I clean my box under the stare of all these eyes. By the time I have finished, Nisa and Cairn have returned. Cairn is practically drooling at the prospect of laying his lash over my back. He missed out yesterday because I was confined to my box all day.