The Penwyth Curse (Medieval Song 6)

“You know what I mean, Brecia.”

“No, I truly don’t. I was innocent. I think everything he did seemed very normal mayhap even too normal—boring, mayhap, nearly sent me off to sleep, if you know what I mean.”

The water in the well heaved and churned.

Mawdoor looked at her, blinked. “You say what he did was so boring it sent you off to sleep? Ah, what, specifically, was boring?”

“Why he rubbed his toes against mine and kept rubbing until I thought my skin would be raw from it. That was boring. Don’t you think?”

“He rubbed your toes with his?”

“Aye, for an interminable time. I thought perhaps it was some sort of wizard mating ritual. Do you think that is unnatural?”

Mawdoor shook his head. “No, you’re right, that was boring. I wouldn’t rub your toes, Brecia. Or if I did, it would just be for a moment.”

“What is unnatural, then?”

She was still wet from her stay in the well. Mawdoor lightly touched his fingers to her sleeve. Instantly she was dry, her hair shining beneath the afternoon sun.

He said, eyeing that glorious hair of hers, “Tell me what else he did and I will tell you whether it is natural or unnatural.”

“He chewed on the flesh behind my knees.”

“Hmmm.”

“Is that unnatural?”

“Yes, that is unnatural, if done in excess.”

The water in the well bubbled as madly as a boiling cauldron, nearly overflowing.

Brecia shook her head. “No, he did it only about twenty minutes.” She paused, frowned. “One candle did burn down, so maybe it was longer.”

“He is obviously mad. You are blessed to be rid of him.”

Brecia smiled. “There were all the other things he did, Mawdoor.” She shuddered delicately.

“What, damn you?”

“I cannot tell you, it embarrasses me.”

“It is said that he has his women on their knees in front of him, and they must see to his needs until they swoon from fatigue.”

Brecia nodded slowly. “Aye, I can see how that would be tiring. And your knees would grow sore. He did not have me do that. Would I be praying whilst on my knees in front of him?”

“You stupid witch, you would have his sex in your mouth until your jaws locked and you gagged until you couldn’t breathe—if he is of a size, that is, to make you gag.”

Her eyes lit up. She said, a wealth of disappointment in her voice, “He didn’t show me how to do that. Now that doesn’t sound boring. You say he would want me to do that for hours on end?”

“So it is said about the prince, damn him. But now I’ve got him, and he will dissolve in the water over the endless years ahead.”

“It still makes no sense, Mawdoor. Why keep the prince entrapped? Why not let him roam the land alone, without me, contemplating his defeat at your mighty hand? Surely that would be a punishment worse than floating at the bottom of a well, all relaxed, holding your father’s cask to his chest.”

“I see the deceit in your eyes, Brecia.” Mawdoor clasped her throat in one big hand and tightened his fingers, but Brecia only kept looking at him, so calm she looked bored, cocking her head slightly to the side, which was difficult to do with his hand around her neck.

He said right in her face, “Damn you, you have tried to bring me low, Brecia. All I wanted to do was mate with you, make you my wife, have you birth incredible wizards, but just look at what you and the prince tried to do. What you would still like to do.”

His fingers tightened about her throat.