Free Artesans of Albia: 02 - King's Champion by Cas Peace

had heard every word, despite appearing to be deeply asleep.
    The Count looked mortified, but Sullyan smiled gently. “You are doing very well, Ty. Tell them the rest.”
    She closed her eyes again. Marik swallowed awkwardly and resumed his narrative, using a detached tone.
    “Rykan forced himself on her in that filthy cell, cruelly and with no remorse. She cried out when he took her, but then made no sound until he was nearly done, which I think inflamed him even more. I could see how hard she fought to stay silent, although he was being deliberately brutal. When he finally pushed himself from her, he stood looking down at her with a self-satisfied smile on his face. He told her that it didn’t matter now whether she surrendered her power or not. He would continue taking his pleasure on her for as long as he wished. He knew, and more importantly, made sure she knew, what the consequences of his ravishment were.
    “He left then, smiling as he fastened his breeches, striding past me like I didn’t exist. He even took the guards with him. He just left me there, knowing there was nothing I could do to harm him, or help her.”
    Tears rolled down his face, but he didn’t notice. Rienne gulped back her own sorrow while the others sat with stunned expressions on frozen faces.
    “I sat holding her,” said the Count, “and that was the only time I saw her give way to what she was feeling. Then the jailor threw me out and I had to return to my rooms. From then on I was watched, and Rykan forced me to witness his abuse twice more. I think he got as much pleasure from my horror as he did from hers. Hearing her scream seemed to encourage his brutality. He always left me with her afterward, possibly hoping I would try to persuade her to surrender. He judged me rightly, for I wanted to. Short of killing her, it was the only way I could think of to help her.”
    He finally fell silent, his head in his hands, his whole body trembling.
    Sullyan cast aside the blanket, rose from the bed, and crossed to where the Count sat. Gathering him into her arms, she held him, tears glistening in her eyes.
    “Rykan did not judge you rightly, my friend,” she murmured, “for you did not seek to weaken my resolve. On the contrary, your comfort gave me the strength to hold out as long as I did. But let me tell you this. If he had threatened your life instead of brutalizing me, I would have given him what he wanted. So he can blame his own lustful nature for the failure of his plan.”
    This declaration of affection rendered Marik incapable of speech, so Sullyan raised her head and took up the tale herself.
    “I knew by then you would be trying to reach me, and I was desperate to slip past the effects of the spellsilver. That was when I thought of using the pain and horror of Rykan’s abuse to lend strength to my efforts. I especially thought of you, Rienne, because of your experience with Parren’s corporal that day at the Manor. I thought you might recognize the feelings for what they were.”
    Rienne gasped. “I never even thought of that! I knew the nightmares were something to do with you. I just didn’t consider that I might be able to ‘hear’ you. I wish now I’d paid more attention to what I was feeling.”
    Sullyan smiled gently. “Do not reproach yourself. I was not even certain that my call had gone further than the walls of my own skull. As the days passed and Rykan kept up his abuse, I knew I could hold out no longer. He knew it too, and on the final occasion he took great delight in telling me, at the height of his pleasure, that he was bound the next day for Caer Vellet, to issue his formal challenge to the Hierarch. In doing so, he made a fatal mistake. By telling me his plan, he gave me courage to form my own, although I did not want to use it. When next I saw Marik, I told him I intended to feign defeat when Rykan returned. It would not be much of a feint, my resistance was almost gone. I think my sanity was not what it