The ropes were biting her wrists and ankles, he had bound her so tight. Her shoulders ached at having her arms forced behind her for so long, and she was shivering, with fear or cold she was not sure. He had left her in his courtyard garden, surrounded by stone walls she could have easily scaled, were she free of her bonds. He had stripped her bare as he checked for weapons, and now the stone was hard and cold against her skin. She lay on her side because her back was raw. He had stuffed her mouth with fabric and tied a cord around her skull to keep her from calling for help, then beaten her. Yet what help would she call for? Assassins weren't meant to need saving. Would the guards help her, or take her for a criminal?
She had begged him for mercy when he beat her. She had told him everything when he asked her. She had tried to lie, but lies did not come naturally to her, and he seemed to be able to tell. He had hurt her more, until she told him everything he wanted to know. As she had been warned many a time by the Mothers, people would not understand why the assassins were needed in society. They did not know the Dark Mother, and could not understand how necessary she and her powers were. The man had been shocked when she told him who she was, and why she did what she did, and had not kept to her lies as she should have done.
Perhaps it was the guards he was fetching, and he would turn up at any moment with them. She would be dragged off to the jail to await trial by the Council, rather than be given to the Mothers, who all knew her, who would not hurt her. Tears leaked from her eyes and she was too ashamed to even pray. She had failed the Great Mother too many times already on this mission to entreat the Goddess for aid.
Her own mother had not known her, or she would have stopped him. Her mother would not leave her out here like this if she knew that she was her child, she would intervene on her daughter's behalf. That was what mothers did, they protected their children, as the Mothers did for the orphans. Maybe if the gag was removed, she could tell her mother who she was, but who was she? She wasn't sure she knew herself now. Why had her mother given her up as an orphan in the first place?
The only children the Mothers raised who were not orphans were bastards. If her mother had not been married when she was born, there would have been no alternative. Maybe they had fled all the way to the mountain she saw in her memories. In her desperation, her mother may have been so foolish as to run. But no one escaped the will of the Great Mother.
Even if the Mothers had not known it was her own mother they sent her to kill, then the Goddess would have. She was here for a reason, a test perhaps. These memories, which had been locked away, had been released for a purpose. Yet she could not believe the Great Mother really wanted her to forsake her own mother. Her teachings had not prepared her for such a dilemma.
The door slammed open behind her and she wriggled in an attempt to turn and see who had come for her. He was back, and he was alone. He grabbed her by the shoulders and hoisted her to her feet.
“I have spoken to the Council. I have told them what you said, but they want proof. Would you repeat it all to them? Everything you have told me?” She nodded. “Good. But first you must take me to see this Dark Mother. You will get me through the inner sanctum and show me the Mysteries.” She nodded again. “Good. I'm going to take the gag off, and you are not going to scream. Understand?”
She nodded and he removed the cord. She spat the fabric out and then kept her mouth carefully closed, afraid to speak. He cut the bonds that held her and she let her arms hang limp. He pushed her in through the door and gave her back her clothes, though he kept her knife. As she dressed, she realised he had dressed all in black too.
“If I am discovered, I will kill you,” he said. “The Council count your life as expendable. If you try anything, I will not hesitate to stick your own knife into you, understand?”