slid off the bed, her knees gave way. Arden caught
her and helped her back onto the bed.
"It looks like I'd better take it," Dana said shakily. She hadn't
realized she was so weak--it wouldn't do at all for her escort to have
to carry her! "A strong dose, please."
"A twelve-hour dose, as strong as you can tolerate," Arden agreed.
"Are you allergic to energine?"
"No, that'll be fine." Dana would have refused such a dose if she'd
expected to have to go through the aftereffects; energine would keep
you going through almost anything, but you paid the price later--and
she was also on rapid-heal, which made demands of its own. But both
would be academic in a few hours. She watched Arden prepare an
injector, her thoughts going to what would be happening to her shortly.
She didn't know the details, no, but she was fully aware that it would
be at least as painful as the attack--and more humiliating, because she
cared about the Sandemans' opinions as she hadn't about the attackers'.
Arden gave her the injection, then said, "It will take effect in a few
minutes, and once it does, I will also have to start treating you as an
oathbreaker. However, I told the Alanna that there was more to this
than appears on the surface, and he has agreed to contact Torrance for
the interrogation reports, then watch a copy of the monitor tapes from
here that I will send with his warriors. That will probably have no
effect, but this is an unprecedented situation; it could make a
difference." She hesitated, then went on in a low voice. "I break
custom by saying this, but I don't think you dishonored. I pray the
gods will grant you a swift death, then rebirth as a warrior-caste
Sandeman to you can earn a place in their ranks." Then she turned
away, leaving the room before Dana could frame a reply.
As the energine took effect and her strength returned, Dana clung to
Arden's words. They meant there was still a trace of hope for
her . . . if Clan-chief Killian agreed with the lady Arden.
But that trace of hope wasn't all good; it was easier to hold fear at
bay if you had no alternative to what you were afraid of. That trace
of hope, tiny as it was, let the fear start to grow again. She began
practicing one of the pre-combat calming exercises she'd come across in
her studies of Sandeman, pleased to find that even with her lack of
experience it helped.
The next time she tried to stand, she felt almost normal. She had no
idea h
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