The First Book of the Pure Read Online Free Page B

bed and stared at her,
then started laughing. “What a mind you have, my love,” he got out
between the gasps of laughter. “Many husbands! Ha-ha, well, I shall
like to meet them sometime then.”
    “But you will not , husband. I’ve had
enough of this place, and of men, and of you. Two of those husbands
are dead by my hand, and the others are dead just because they grew
old, as you count years.”
    “Stop now,” he commanded. “You will not speak
thusly. I forbid it. You’re my wife, and I will not have it.” When
she started to speak again he slapped her hard across the face,
leaving his handprint bright on her cheek. She stared at him
defiantly, and when he moved his arm to strike her again, she
stopped his hand in hers, stopping all momentum from his arm
instantly, with far more strength than he could have summoned.
Shocked at her strength, he gasped out, “What…”
    Her other hand gripped his throat, causing
him to stop what he was saying very abruptly and gasp for a breath
that would not come. “Enough husband dearest.” She spoke in a
sickly sweet voice. “It is enough. You were all you could be I
suppose, but think, fool. You would force yourself on me when I was
so exhausted after childbirth that I feared for my life. But you
had needs, great husband, so you came to my sick bed, climbed on
top of me and took me, making me hate you. Don’t worry, for you
wouldn’t have lived many more years anyway, so this isn’t really a
great loss to you. You eat too much, drink too much, and have no
respect for me or women in general.” She brushed his hands away
with her other hand and gripped him hard. “Oh, you must like that,”
she said, mimicking his voice as she crushed him. His pain showed
in his eyes, and his lack of oxygen gave him a blue tinge. “You
think as a man, die like a man, husband!” There was clear derision
in her voice. Just before he fainted she told him what a lovely
shade of blue he was. She kept gripping his throat in her small but
strong hand, barely able to hold enough of it to choke the life
from him, but barely enough was still enough. Barely alive is still
alive, and barely dead is fully dead. She decided that “barely
alive” had no meaning, as she choked the life from him with even
more passion, crushing his windpipe. After she’d watched the life
fade from his body she shook him once and tossed his body aside as
she had her own robes before bed. “Darling husband.” She glanced at
his corpse sprawled on the floor. “You won’t even miss me.” She was
done with a world in which she was always defending herself against
men, against power, against things which might, in a better,
different world, not be issues at all.
     
    ***
     
    When that decision was made, she gathered up
some coins, some small amount of gold they’d hidden away against
future need, the jewels she’d acquired over the years of which her
husband had known nothing, and walked through the quiet village in
the dark.
    She snuck into the catacombs, walking further
into the dark than anyone she knew had ever gone, for these were
very old and somewhat feared. The dust was deep and undisturbed,
with the weight of decades, even centuries weighing down on her.
She sneezed several times as she walked on, and very carefully
brushed out her footprints with a length of sheepskin she’d brought
for this very purpose.
    She sealed off a section with heavy blocks,
and lay down very carefully, arranging her body with great care,
knowing it would likely stay that way for a long time. She was
always amazed at the weight she could move when she had to do so.
None of her men could ever have understood or accepted the fact of
her strength. Nobody could find me here but the Minotaur .
This was not her first time to skip ahead like this, from the
present to a future time. Crete didn’t fit her very well, like a
poorly cut garment that sagged where it should cling and clung
where it should be loose. While she didn’t know