Confessor: Chainfire Trilogy Part 3

With all her strength, Nicci steadied her voice. "You can't make someone care about you by hitting them."

"You make me hit you! It's your own fault! You say things that you know will make me angry. I wouldn't hit you if you wouldn't keep pushing me into it. You bring it on yourself."

As if to prove his point, he delivered two mighty blows across her face. She did her best to ignore the pain. She knew that this was only the beginning.

Nicci stared up at him. She said nothing. She had been beneath him enough times to know very well what was coming.

She was already going off to that faraway place in her mind. She no longer focused on the man atop her, hitting her. Her gaze drifted to the ceiling of the tent.

As his fists pounded her, she hardly felt it. It was only her body, somewhere distant, that was hurting.

She had to breathe through a burble of blood.

She knew that he was pulling off her dress, knew that his big hands were groping her, but she ignored that, too.

Instead-as Jagang beat her, pawed her, climbed on top of her, forced her legs open-she thought about Richard, about how he always treated her with respect.

As the nightmare started, she dreamed of other things.

CHAPTER 24

With the back of her wrist, Rachel wiped sweat from her forehead. She knew that as soon as she stopped working she would get cold, but at the moment she was sweating. It was hard to stop, because she was in a hurry. She knew that she couldn't hurry when she was stopped for the night, but she still felt driven to rush, so she raced to as she built her shelter.

She didn't like to think about what would happen to her if she didn't hurry.

The pine boughs she had cut and leaned up against the low rock wall would help block the cold wind. She'd braced them with a support made of dead cedar saplings she had found nearby. Cutting fresh pine branches with a knife wasn't easy. Chase had taught her how to build a shelter. He probably wouldn't think much of this one, but without at least a hatchet it was the best she could do. At least, it was the best she felt like doing. All she really felt like doing was hurrying.

She'd picketed the horse close, after letting it drink its fill from a nearby brook. She had been careful to give it enough line to be able to crop at the bunches of grass growing along the bank.

Using the flint from the saddlebags, she'd built a fire just inside the protection of the wind block she'd made. It was terrifying being out alone in the countryside at night. There could be bears, or mountain lions, or wolves. A fire helped her to feel safe while she got some sleep waiting for first light. She needed it to be light so that she could start out again. She needed to get going. She needed to hurry.

When she started getting cold, Rachel put another piece of the driftwood she'd collected on the fire and then sat on the small blanket she'd laid over pine boughs. Chase had taught her that a fresh cushion of pine or spruce branches would keep her up off the ground and help keep her warm. She put her back to the rock wall so that nothing could sneak up behind her. With it getting darker, she was feeling afraid.

Rather than think about being afraid, she pulled the saddlebags closer and retrieved a piece of dried meat. She tore off a small bite with her teeth and sucked on it for a time, letting the taste start to satisfy her gnawing hunger. She didn't have a lot of food left, so she was trying to conserve what she had. It wasn't long, though, until she was chewing and swallowing.

She broke off a piece of hard biscuit and, holding it in her palm, dribbled a little water from the waterskin onto it to try to soften it up a bit before she tried to chew it. The biscuits were as hard as rocks. The dried meat was easier to chew than the biscuits, but she had more biscuits.

She'd searched for berries as she rode, but it was too late in the year for there to be any left. One day she had spotted a wild apple tree. Even though they were shriveled they had looked like they might make a meal, but she knew better than to eat red fruit. Red fruit was poisonous. As hungry as she was for something other than dried meat and dried biscuits, she didn't want to get poisoned.

Rachel sat quietly for a time, chewing on the tough meat as she stared into the fire. She kept listening for things that might be out in the darkness beyond the fire. She didn't want to be surprised by a hungry animal that might think she'd make a good meal.

When she looked up, there was a woman standing before her, on the opposite side of the fire.

Rachel gasped. She tried to back up, but the rock wall was right there behind her. She thought that she might be able to slip away to the side if she had to. She snatched up her knife.

"Please, don't be afraid."

Rachel thought that it was just about the most pleasing, gentle, kind voice she had ever heard. Still, she knew better than to be taken in by kind-sounding words.