Blood of the Fold

Verna turned her eyes down. Millie tossed the rag into the bucket and dunked her hands in deep to wash it out. She looked back over her shoulder as she worked the rag in the water.

"I'll be finished soon. Not soon enough for me, but soon. Then you can have this vile traitor to yourself. I hope you won't be kind to her."

Leoma smiled. "She will get what she deserves."

Millie brough her hands out of the soapy water. "Good." She jammed one wet, callused hand against Verna's thigh. "Move your feet! How can I wash the floor when you sit there like a lump?"

Verna felt something rigid against her thigh after Millie took her hand away.

' That Warren is a pig, too. Keeps his room a mess. I was just there earlier today, and it stunk nearly as bad as this sty."

Verna moved her hands to each side of her legs and put them under her thighs as if to balance herself while she lifted her feet for Millie. Her fingers found something hard, and thin. At first, her dull mind couldn't decipher the feel. It came to her with a jolt of recognition.

It was a dacra.

Her chest constricted. Her muscles stiffened. She could hardly make herself breathe.

Millie suddenly spat in her face again, causing her to flinch and turn away. "Don't you be looking at an honest woman like that! Keep your eyes off me."

Vema realized Millie must have seen her eyes open wide.

"I'm done," she said as she straightened her sinewy frame, "unless you want me to give her a bath, and if you do, you'd better think again. I'm not touching that evil woman."

"Just gel your bucket and go," Leoma said, her impatience growing.

Verna had the dacra gripped so tightly in her fist that it was making her fingers tingle. Her heart hammered so hard she thought it might crack a rib.

Millie shuffled out of the room without looking back. Leoma pushed the door closed.

"This is your last chance, Verna. If you still refuse, you will be turned over to the emperor. You will soon wish you had cooperated with me, I can promise you that much."

Come closer, Verna thought. Come closer.

She felt the first wave of pain coursing up through her. She flopped back on the pallet, turning away from Leoma. Come closer.

"Sit up look at me when I speak to you."

Verna could only let out a small cry, but she stayed where she was, hoping to lure Leoma closer. She would have no chance if she lunged from this far; the woman would hobble her before she made the distance. She had to be closer.

"I said sit up!" Leoma's footsteps approached.

Dear Creator, please bring her close enough.

"You will look at me and tell me you renounce Richard, You must renounce him so the emperor can enter your mind. He will know when you have quit your loyalty, so don't think to lie."

Another step. "Look at me when I speak to you!"

Another step. A fist snatched her hair and jerked her head upward. She was close enough, but her arms seared with pain, and she couldn't lift her hand. Oh, dear Creator, don't let her start the test with my arms. Let her start with my legs. I need my arms.

Instead of beginning in her legs, the nerve-burning pain shot down her arms. With all her strength, Verna tried to lift the hand with the dacra. It would not move. Her fingers twitched with stabs of pain.

Despite her straining, her fingers tugged opened in spasms and the dacra fell out.

"Please," she wept, "don't do my legs this time. I'm begging you, don't do my legs."

Leoma's fist in her hair tilted her head back, and the woman struck her across the face. "Legs, arms, it doesn't matter. You will submit."

"You can't make me. You're going to fail and…" Verna got no more out before the hand struck her face again.

The searing pain jumped to her legs, and they flopped uncontrollably with the jolts. Verna's arms tingled, but she could at last move them. Her hand groped blindly along the pallet, frantically searching for the dacra.

Her thumb touched it. She curled her fingers around the cool metal handle, pulling it up in her fist.

Summoning all her strength and resolve, Verna plunged the dacra into Leoma's thigh.

Leoma cried out, releasing Verna's hair.

"Still!" Verna panted. "I have a dacra in you. Stay still."

One hand slowly lowered to comfort her leg above the dacra in her thigh muscle. "You can't possibly think this will work."

Verna swallowed, catching her breath. "Well now, I guess we are going to find out, aren't we? Seems I have nothing to lose. You do — your life."

"Be careful, Verna, or you will find out just how sorry you can be for doing something like this. Take it out, and I will pretend this didn't happen. Just take it out."

"Oh, I don't think that's such wise advice, advisor."

"I have control of your collar. All I have to do is block your Han. If you make me do that, it will go worse on you."

"Really, Leoma? Well, I think I should tell you that on my journey of twenty years, I learned a great deal about using a dacra. While it's true that you can block my Han through the Rada'Han, there are two things you had better think on.