He moved close and breathed in her scent. “I once seer-bonded with the High Bishop.” An old anger made his blood burn. “I’d been a year at Conclave. Two priests bound me to a chair and gagged me.” Martise’s features blurred before ugly memories. He recalled the agonizing fire raging in his skull as Cumbria strove to tear down his emotions and thoughts. He still felt the blow of the bishop’s fist against the side of his head when the bonding finished, the darkness that followed and the taste of dirt in his mouth when he awakened on the cold floor with a rat scrabbling through the tangles in
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