Read Online A Lesson for the Cyclops by Jeffrey Getzin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jeffrey Getzin
Tags: Fantasy
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separated by a frigid river from the Kingdom of Kyrn.
“Such a majestic city! And to imagine I was shortly to be royalty!
“But it was not to be. I was not only unworthy of being a duchess, I was unworthy of Hernando, of my family, of everything in my life that I had taken for granted and discarded in favor of what looked to be the best opportunity.
“In rapid succession came the letters: first, from my father, begging me to abandon my foolishness and return home. His appeal touched my heart, but I was determined to stay.
“Then another letter from Hernando’s family, describing how despondent he had become. They pleaded with me to return to him, to make good on my promise of betrothal. I actually laughed at this letter, may I freeze in the Icy Inferno forever for it. I laughed at poor, dear Hernando’s suffering.
“The next batch of letters I received arrived at the same time. Hernando had hanged himself. My father disowned me. Hernando’s father pledged revenge.
“Only now did I begin to understand the gravity of what I had done, how cruel and heartless and self-serving I had been. But what could I do? I could not undo the evils I had committed. My dear Hernando had died from the broken heart I had given him. My family would not answer my letters, and I had only myself to blame. Only the preparations for my imminent wedding served to take my mind in part off my crimes, so I threw myself into them, determined to have the biggest, fanciest, and most impressive wedding Bryanae had ever seen.
“Before I was married, I received the present Hernando’s family had sent me.
“As we traveled back from the dressmaker’s shop one evening, my retinue and I were set upon by a dozen ruffians with blackened faces, blackened weapons, and cold, cold eyes. They murdered everyone in my party, even the horses, but me they spared. They had something special in mind.
“I was bound and gagged, and tossed into the back of a wagon like the cheap piece of meat I had become. The wagon took me to the outskirts of Bryanae. The sorcerer was waiting for me there at the abandoned cabin, isolated from the rest of the world by a forest on three sides and the ocean beating upon a rocky shore on the fourth.
“The sorcerer was very tall, very thin, and wore dark velvet robes and a dark hood over his dark face. When he spoke, it chilled my bones.
“‘You’ve been a very naughty child,’ he said in a voice laced with malevolent glee, ‘and I have been paid handsomely to see that you are appropriately punished.’
“At his command, the brigands ripped my clothes from me, but the sorcerer showed no signs of sexual interest. He grasped my face, and turned it this way and that, admiring it.
“‘You are beautiful,’ he said. ‘That is what you prize most, is it not? That is what gives you a sense of value, a sense of importance.’
“He took a step away from me and examined me like I was an insect.
“‘That is what I shall take from you.’
“He reached for me again, but now his hand seemed to be on fire. A lapping red corona surrounded it, and cast fearsome shadows onto his already fearsome black face. And those eyes! They burned!
“I screamed and screamed, but no one came to help me. No one took pity on me, not even when the sorcerer began to sear my flesh.”
“The worst was my eye,” the Cyclops said, shuddering. “After that, I barely even noticed when he burned the rest of my face and neck. No pain could compare to having your eye boil out of its socket. Nothing the sorcerer did after that could make me forget it. Nothing that has happened in my life since has made me forget that pain.”
The Cyclops held herself, shivering. D’Arbignal moved to hold her, but she shook her head and he withdrew. It was the first time she had ever spoken of her burning. She felt somehow liberated, but it also served to remind her further of her evil deeds. No matter how bad she felt, she knew she deserved it and more.
“The
“Such a majestic city! And to imagine I was shortly to be royalty!
“But it was not to be. I was not only unworthy of being a duchess, I was unworthy of Hernando, of my family, of everything in my life that I had taken for granted and discarded in favor of what looked to be the best opportunity.
“In rapid succession came the letters: first, from my father, begging me to abandon my foolishness and return home. His appeal touched my heart, but I was determined to stay.
“Then another letter from Hernando’s family, describing how despondent he had become. They pleaded with me to return to him, to make good on my promise of betrothal. I actually laughed at this letter, may I freeze in the Icy Inferno forever for it. I laughed at poor, dear Hernando’s suffering.
“The next batch of letters I received arrived at the same time. Hernando had hanged himself. My father disowned me. Hernando’s father pledged revenge.
“Only now did I begin to understand the gravity of what I had done, how cruel and heartless and self-serving I had been. But what could I do? I could not undo the evils I had committed. My dear Hernando had died from the broken heart I had given him. My family would not answer my letters, and I had only myself to blame. Only the preparations for my imminent wedding served to take my mind in part off my crimes, so I threw myself into them, determined to have the biggest, fanciest, and most impressive wedding Bryanae had ever seen.
“Before I was married, I received the present Hernando’s family had sent me.
“As we traveled back from the dressmaker’s shop one evening, my retinue and I were set upon by a dozen ruffians with blackened faces, blackened weapons, and cold, cold eyes. They murdered everyone in my party, even the horses, but me they spared. They had something special in mind.
“I was bound and gagged, and tossed into the back of a wagon like the cheap piece of meat I had become. The wagon took me to the outskirts of Bryanae. The sorcerer was waiting for me there at the abandoned cabin, isolated from the rest of the world by a forest on three sides and the ocean beating upon a rocky shore on the fourth.
“The sorcerer was very tall, very thin, and wore dark velvet robes and a dark hood over his dark face. When he spoke, it chilled my bones.
“‘You’ve been a very naughty child,’ he said in a voice laced with malevolent glee, ‘and I have been paid handsomely to see that you are appropriately punished.’
“At his command, the brigands ripped my clothes from me, but the sorcerer showed no signs of sexual interest. He grasped my face, and turned it this way and that, admiring it.
“‘You are beautiful,’ he said. ‘That is what you prize most, is it not? That is what gives you a sense of value, a sense of importance.’
“He took a step away from me and examined me like I was an insect.
“‘That is what I shall take from you.’
“He reached for me again, but now his hand seemed to be on fire. A lapping red corona surrounded it, and cast fearsome shadows onto his already fearsome black face. And those eyes! They burned!
“I screamed and screamed, but no one came to help me. No one took pity on me, not even when the sorcerer began to sear my flesh.”
“The worst was my eye,” the Cyclops said, shuddering. “After that, I barely even noticed when he burned the rest of my face and neck. No pain could compare to having your eye boil out of its socket. Nothing the sorcerer did after that could make me forget it. Nothing that has happened in my life since has made me forget that pain.”
The Cyclops held herself, shivering. D’Arbignal moved to hold her, but she shook her head and he withdrew. It was the first time she had ever spoken of her burning. She felt somehow liberated, but it also served to remind her further of her evil deeds. No matter how bad she felt, she knew she deserved it and more.
“The
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