Temple of the Winds

She turned her face away. "Never. Get on with the torture before I fall asleep and miss it."

"You see? As I told you, women always ask me for it." He pressed the iron pot to her belly and wound a chain around her middle, to hold down the pot. He forced a finger under the rim, checking, to make sure that it was tight enough.

He then loosened the rough knot in the chain, so he could get the rats under the pot. Cara showed no reaction when he shoved the first under the pot.

Holding the second by the scruff of its neck, he held it before her face, letting her see it squirm and squeak. "See, Cara? As I promised you. Rats. Big rats."

Sweat beaded on her forehead. "I kind of like it. It feels fuzzy against my stomach. I may fall asleep."

He stuffed the second, and then a third under the pot. There was room for no more. He took the slack from the chain, and tightened the knot of links.

"Fuzzy," he mocked. "I think they will keep you wide awake, Cara. Wide awake, and eager to talk, eager to betray Richard. Whores have no honor. You will betray him."

"Berdine is going to be here soon. She will skin you alive." He lifted an eyebrow. "You relieved Berdine. I saw you. After she left, I took you down. She won't be back for quite a while, but when she does come back, she will get the same as you."

With tongs, he retrieved a big, glowing coal from the pan over the mass of candles. He plunked the red-hot coal down inside the rim of the footed bottom of the iron pot.

"You see, Cara, the coals are going to heat this iron pot-get it very hot." He looked at her eyes. "The rats aren't going to like that. They are going to want out."

Her breathing quickened. Sweat rolled down her face. Where were her brave words now? She was silent, now.

''And how do you suppose the rats are going to get out, Cara? Once they start to get hot? Once the iron pot starts burning them? Singeing their tender noses?" "Just cut my throat and kill me, you bastard."

"When the rats get hot enough under there, they'll panic. They'll be frantic to get out. Guess how they'll get out, Cara." She had no haughty answer to fill the silence.

He pulled his knife and with the handle, tapped the iron pot. "How are you doing in there, my little rat friends?"

Cara flinched. He smiled when her eyes turned to him, watching him. He could see fear in those eyes. Real fear. He plunked down a half dozen more glowing coals on the iron pot. "Where is Richard?"

She had nothing to say. He piled on more coals, into a nice, round hump. That was all the pot's bottom would hold.

He bent over and looked into her eyes. Her skin was as white as chalk. Sweat glistened on her face, on her breasts. "Where are you whores hiding Richard?"

"You are crazy, Drefan. I don't like this, but if this is how I am to die, then I will die. But I will never betray Lord Rahl."

"I am Lord Rahl! When I get rid of my brother, there will be no one to challenge my rule! I am the son of Darken Rahl, and the rightful master of D'Hara."

She turned her face away. He saw her swallow. Her feet were trembling. Her smooth breathing was interrupted now and again, caught up short. He chuckled. "I'll ask again, when the rats start gnawing their way through you, to get away from their hot, iron prison. When their sharp little claws start digging into your belly. When the rats start tunneling into your guts, trying to get out." Cara's whole body jerked. It jerked again. Her eyes widened as she stared up at the ceiling, trying to keep the moan from escaping her throat. He glanced back and saw a drop of blood run from under the rim of the bowl, down her side. "Well, looks like they already want out. Ready to talk, yet?" She spat at him, and then gasped sharply. Her wide blue eyes fixed on the ceiling.

She was trembling all over now. Her whole body stiffed. Every muscle strained. She started to pant. Tears filled the corners of her eyes, to run down the side of her face. She was feeling every little thing the rats did-every frantic bite, every desperate digging, ripping of their claws.

Cara let out a short little cry. Sharp, shrill, clipped. It was rapture. He knew it was only the beginning. Even if she talked, he had no intention of stopping this. He longed to hear screams. Real, from the gut screams. Cara obliged him, and let out her first.

Because of his singular perception, another detail caught his attention. His vigilance had again rewarded him. Smiling, he turned to the sliph's well. Breathe.

Kahlan expelled the sliph, but she knew something was wrong even before she sucked a breath of air.

A piercing scream echoed around the stone room. Kahlan thought the shriek would make her ears bleed.

As she erupted from the sliph, before she could brace herself to react, big, strong hands reached down and seized her. She struggled to get her bearings, to make sense of what was happening as the sudden light and sound whirled in around her.