Chapter XVI, Reading 9

Lord Vetlok had a cup in his hand. "Open her mouth."
Flindra pretended to comply easily as someone standing behind her reached around and pried her mouth open. An unwary finger strayed between her teeth. She bit down and felt the taste of blood on her tongue.
"Witch!" cried the owner of the finger. Flindra felt a slap across her face in payment for her impudence. She responded in pretense, since Rigga had safely deflected the force of the blow.
"Aren't you man enough to handle a bound girl, Bassus?" Vetlok inquired acidly.
Rough fingers forced her jaw apart and a stick was rammed between her teeth to prevent her from biting.
Lord Vetlok approached with the cup. Flindra kicked at him with both feet since they were tied together. The kick caught him just below one kneecap. He dropped to the floor clutching his wounded knee.
"A pox on you, Bassus," he screamed. "Tie her legs to the chair. Can't you do anything right?"
Bassus growled under his breath as he tied Flindra's legs to the chair, trying all the while to inflict as much pain as possible.
Lord Vetlok stood with the help the lean man with the mustache. He poured some oily liquid from a vial into the cup he had dropped. "Your kick is going to cost you, slut," he sneered in hatred as he approached his captive. He took hold of Flindra's lower jaw with his thumb pressing her tongue against her lower teeth. He then poured a bitter tasting fluid down her throat. "A belly full of quana should make you much more cooperative."
Flindra tried to direct the protective shield to the inside of her stomach, hoping to neutralize the potion. She could feel the drug taking hold despite her efforts. The drug was both relaxing her resolve and catapulting her into unreasoning fear, the fear of a trapped animal waiting for death. Flindra's mind was being strangled by the endless terror. She understood how Vetlok said she would know fear. This was unbearable.