“What is happening?” she asked softly, eyes wide. Her breath suddenly caught. “You said … the guard wouldn’t let you out the gate. That you can’t leave Buckkeep? Why?”
“I don’t know, exactly. There’s a lot I don’t understand. But one thing I do know. I have to keep you safe. That means staying away from you, for a time. And you from me. Do you understand?”
A glint of anger came into her eyes. “I understand you’re leaving me alone in this!”
“No. That’s not it. We have to make them believe that they’ve scared you, that you’re obeying them. Then you’ll be safe. They’ll have no reason to come after you again.”
“They have scared me, you idiot!” she hissed at me. “One thing I know. Once someone knows you’re afraid of him, you’re never safe from that person. If I obey them now, they will come after me again. To tell me to do other things, to see how far I’ll obey them in my fear.”
These were the scars her father had left on her life. Scars that were a kind of strength, but also a vulnerability. “Now is not the time to stand up to them,” I whispered. I kept looking over her shoulder, expecting that at any moment the guard would come to see where we had vanished. “Come,” I said, and led her deeper into the maze of warehouses and outbuildings. She walked silently beside me for a ways, then suddenly jerked her hand from mine.
“It is time to stand up to them,” she declared. “Because once you start putting it off, you never do it. Why should not this be the time?”
“Because I don’t want you caught up in this. I don’t want you hurt. I don’t want people saying you are the Bastard’s whore.” I could barely force the words from my mouth.