Lara: Book One of the World of Hetar

by Bertrice Small

  Susanna came up behind him, slipping her arms about him. She kissed the top of his head. “It is a fair bargain, husband, and how proud your daughter will be to see you win your place among the Crusader Knights. When will you tell her?”

  “Tonight, before I lose my courage,” he replied. “You must leave us after the supper that Lara and I can be alone to speak on it.”

  She nodded, and then she smiled as her stepdaughter entered the room, her baby brother in her arms. “Here he is, all sweet and clean, stepmother. Will you nurse him now, or after our meal?” She handed the baby to its mother.

  “Afterwards, I think. Put him in his cradle. He will be content to play with his toes while we eat,” Susanna said, and she handed her son back to Lara, who put the baby boy down in the cradle.

  “What?” John Swiftsword said teasingly. “No greeting for your old father, lass?”

  “Where have you been all day, Da?” Lara asked, kissing his cheek and sitting down on the floor by his knee. She lay her head against it, smiling up at him.

  He reached out to stroke that head. Her hair was a color he had seen only once. Lara had the golden gilt hair of her mother. And she had Ilona’s lime-green eyes. In fact, everything about her was Ilona. Everything except her full lips, which she had inherited from him. “What have you been doing?” he asked, ignoring her query.

  “Mistress Mildred watched Mikhail while my stepmother and I visited several mercers’ shops in the Merchants Quarter. We wore our best skirts and bodices so they would not think we were beggar women,” Lara reported. “Oh, Da, I have never seen materials such as I saw today. I never even knew such fabrics existed. And everyone was so kind to us! One of the mercers gave me a silver ribbon for my hair!”

  His heart contracted. So they knew in the shops as well. Well, gossip was the meat and drink of the City. He should not be surprised.

  “The supper will be cold if you two do not eat it,” Susanna said briskly.

  Lara scrambled to her feet and took her place, while her father swung about again to face the table. “I have put my ribbon away, but I will get it after supper to show you, Da,” the girl said. “I shall only wear it on special occasions.”

  They ate the chicken stew that Susanna had ladled onto the worn wooden plates, tearing chunks off a small round loaf to mop up the gravy. They ate in silence. When they had finished, Lara quickly removed the plates and mugs from the table, taking them to the small stone sink outside the back door. Then she went to the hearth, and taking a kettle of hot water, poured it into the sink, refilled the kettle and replaced it on its hood over the fire. Adding a little cold water to the sink, she washed the wooden plates and mugs clean, dried them with her apron and replaced them in the bureau on the wall across from the hearth. Her father and her stepmother had been speaking quietly, but now Susanna arose, took Mikhail from his cradle and went into the garden to nurse her son.

  “Come back and sit with me,” John Swiftsword called to his daughter. “I must speak with you, Lara.”

  She rejoined him saying, “You look so sad, Da. What is it?”

  “You know,” he began, “that the tournament of the Crusader Knights will be held again this spring.”

  “Aye, Da, I know. You should be one of them! You should! Why have you not entered the tournament before?” Lara asked him.

  “To enter the tournament a man must meet many requirements. He must know how to use certain weapons. He must be able to read and to write.”

  “You are a great swordsman, Da, and you can read and write,” Lara said.

  “But I have not been able to meet the third requirement, Lara. I do not look like I belong among the Crusader Knights,” John said to his daughter.

  “Why not?” she demanded.

  “I must have a warhorse, and the beast must be well caparisoned. I must have beautiful armor and fine weapons. I need more than my skills, Lara.”

  “How silly,” the young girl replied. “I would think your skills would be what counted most, not your appearance.” She slipped into his lap and kissed his rough cheek.

  “But my skills are nothing if I do not look like one of the order,” he said. He put an arm around her, giving her a little hug. It was rare that he allowed himself to show her any real affection, but now their time together was growing short.

  “And we are poor,” she noted. “Have we nothing of value that we could sell that would allow you to enter the tourney, Da?”

  “It is very costly, Lara, and I have not the means. Or so I thought until recently. I have one item, and one only, of great value. I have you.”

  “Me?” She said genuinely surprised, and a small tendril of fear rose within her. She pushed it away. “What value have I, Da?”

  He smiled at her innocence. “Lara, you are extraordinarily beautiful, and you have your virginity, which has great value. As you have noted, we are poor. I have no dowry for you. I cannot make a match for you without one. It is all I can do to make ends meet. Now that my guild is receiving fewer and fewer assignments, there is less work for me, which means no coins in my pocket. I need to move up in the world, Lara, for all our sakes. What will become of you, of Susanna, of your brother if I do not? I know I can triumph in the coming tournament if I can but find the means to enter it.”

  “That is why Susanna took me to the house of Gaius Prospero, isn’t it, Da?” she said thoughtfully. “That is why I was stripped naked, and why a physician probed my body, isn’t it? The Master of the Merchants will pay a handsome price for me. He would purchase me.”

  “Ten thousand cubits, daughter,” John Swiftsword replied.

  Lara nodded slowly. “It is a great price, Da. Am I truly worth all that gold?”

  “More,” he told her, “for Gaius Prospero expects to make a profit from you, Lara. I think he will probably gain double or more when he sells you.”

  “What will he do with me, Da?” she asked. Suddenly she was truly afraid, and she trembled. Then swallowing hard, she fought back her fears, reminding herself that her father loved her. He would do nothing to harm her.

  “I expect he will sell you into a Pleasure House,” her father answered, his arm tightening around his daughter in a small gesture of comfort.

  “Pleasure Women are admired, Da. They live lives of great luxury and privilege,” Lara said. Then she reached out and patted his hand. “You must not be sad. What other future could I have? You have sold me then?” She had to be brave for her father’s sake. She could see he was distressed. It wasn’t a terrible fate, and actually a better one than she had considered, given their circumstances.

  He nodded wordlessly.

  “When must I go?” Her face was pensive. “Not right away, Da!”

  “The day after the tourney, daughter,” John Swiftsword told her.

  Lara clapped her hands. “Then I shall see you attain your goal, Da! That is good. I will go with a light heart knowing that I have been able to aid you in this way.”

  “If there were any other way, Lara,” he began, but she put a little hand over his mouth.

  “If there were, Da, you would have found it for us,” she said quietly. “The Celestial Actuary gives us each a talent. Yours is skill with a sword. I will make my way through life using my beauty. If I had been born ugly, you would have already put me into service in some magnate’s house where I would be at the mercy of all. Nay. This is much better. I shall be a famous Pleasure Woman like Roxelana of the Rose. She bought her freedom, and now manages a Pleasure House. I would be like that. Charting my own destiny. At the mercy of no one.”

  “I had not expected such understanding from you, Lara,” he told her gratefully.

  “Sometimes I think my mother comes to me in the night, and whispers wisdom in my ear, Da. I am young, but there are times when I feel that I have lived a thousand years or more,” she told him with a small smile.

  “There are moments when you amaze me, daughter,” John Swiftsword told his eldest child. “Thank you for understanding my p
osition, for understanding what I must do. I did not make this decision that will affect all of our lives either easily or lightly.” He tipped her from his lap, kissing her brow. Then standing, he said, “I will go and tell your stepmother of your courage now.”

  Lara remained where she was seated. Her life had stood still for so very long, and she had always wondered what would happen to her. She was fourteen, and grown. Many girls her age were already wed, or in service, but neither would be her fate. She did not mind. She had always wanted to know what lay beyond the City, and now perhaps she would have that opportunity. She could be sold into a Pleasure House in the Coastal Region. It was said the coast was a rich and beautiful land. The Midlands were dull, just farmers and their crops. Women in the Midlands Pleasure Houses lived dull lives. It was unlikely any of them could purchase their freedom one day. The land of the Shadow Princes was the one she knew the least about. Few in the City knew a great deal about the Shadow Princes. Did they even have Pleasure Houses? And as for the Forest Lords, they kept to themselves, for they were the most ancient of the clans on Hetar, with the purest of bloodlines—or so they claimed. Their lives were guided by tradition.

  But she was beautiful, her father said. Beautiful enough that the Master of the Merchants would pay ten thousand gold cubits for her, and then resell her for more. Lara had not a great deal of experience with life outside the Quarter, but she knew that if her value was that great then her future could be even greater. Her prospects were exciting and she eagerly awaited her fate. She was half faerie, and now more than ever she felt that part of her stirring restlessly. Susanna said it was because Lara now suffered her woman’s blood flow each moon span that her mother’s influence was upon her more than it had ever been before. There was no denying her faerie heritage, Susanna said.

  Lara was happy that her going would help her family rise in the social ranks, but she felt no sacrifice at what was to come. She saw only great opportunity ahead, and the promise of a golden future. Yet it niggled at her that her stepmother had been the one to provoke the changes that were to come to them all. Should not John Swiftsword have been the one to instigate these shifts in their lives? Susanna had changed since the birth of Lara’s baby brother six months ago. Still, she did not envy her father’s wife. The thought of being tied to one man as Susanna was tied to her father was abhorrent right now. Again her faerie blood spoke, but she had never confided any of these thoughts to anyone. Her stepmother, she suspected, would have been shocked. She had no friends her own age. The girls in the Quarter did not treat her well at all. Many were afraid of her faerie blood. She often wondered what they thought she was going to do to them. She knew no spells or magic. But now she realized that it was also her beauty that kept them at bay. Beauty, it would seem, was both a blessing and a curse. She must remember that in the times to come, Lara considered.

  Chapter 2

  SUSANNA WAS RELIEVED when her husband told her of Lara’s reaction. She thought to herself that if she had been in Lara’s position she would be very unhappy. But then the girl was half faerie. Who knew what she really felt? Susanna was glad that her stepdaughter would soon be gone. She was but five years older than John’s daughter. She was young enough that she didn’t want to share her husband with his beautiful child. But Lara had been so sweet and welcoming when she had married the girl’s father that she was unable to be unkind, and could find no fault with her. Indeed, they were almost friends, odd as that seemed.

  The next morning when John had gone out to see Bevin the swordsmith, Susanna called Lara to her. “Will you help me choose the fabric for your father’s application clothing, and sew them with me? I cannot embroider half as well as you can, and your stitches are so fine as to be invisible.”

  “What will you do when I am not here to help you with your sewing?” Lara half teased her stepmother.

  “What?” For a moment Susanna looked confused by her stepdaughter’s words. Then Lara quickly said, “Will we return to the mercer today?”

  “I think we must if we are to have your father’s garments ready in time,” Susanna said with a bright smile. “Now tell me which of the fabrics we saw last you favored?”

  “My father’s eyes are gray, and I think he must have a silver brocade. Silver brocade and sky-blue silk would suit him,” Lara answered her stepmother.

  “You did not like the gold brocade?” Susanna sounded disappointed.

  “The gold was very fine, but perhaps a bit vulgar?” Lara replied thoughtfully. “I thought the silver more elegant with Da’s eyes, ash-brown hair and fine features.”

  “Yes,” Susanna reconsidered. Lara’s instincts for fashion had always impressed her, considering the girl hardly ever left the Quarter. Yet she always knew what was right. It was very annoying at times, but still, best to listen to her. “Then the silver brocade it is,” she agreed. “Run and ask Mistress Mildred if she will watch Mikhail today for if she will not we must have him with us. Take her one of the fresh loaves I baked early this morning.”

  Lara took the still-warm loaf and put it in a small market basket. Then she hurried to the hovel next to theirs where Mistress Mildred, a widow, lived with her son, Wilmot. “Susanna has sent you a nice warm loaf,” she called out as she entered the room. “She wonders if you can watch Mikhail again today. We are going to the mercer’s to purchase cloth for Da’s application garments.”

  “So it’s true then,” the old woman said, coming forward and taking the loaf from the basket. “He’s going to enter the tourney. Well, I’ll be sorry to see you all go. He has been a good neighbor, and his mother before him. Where did he get the coin for such an expensive undertaking?”

  “Are you so certain Da will win a place in the Crusader Knights?” Lara replied, avoiding the query neatly.

  “Of course he’ll win!” Mistress Mildred said. “He’s the finest swordsman in the land, child. Did your grandmother not always say it? And everyone else?”

  “Then you’ll watch Mikhail?” Lara gently pressed her.

  “I’ll be over in just a few moments,” Mistress Mildred responded, and Lara was swiftly gone out the door.

  Warning Susanna of the old lady’s curiosity, she and her stepmother were quickly on their way as soon as Mistress Mildred stepped into the hovel.

  “We’ll not be too long,” Susanna promised.

  “Take your time,” Mistress Mildred called after them. “Remember you must choose the right fabrics and colors for your man if he is to make a good impression.”

  They left the Quarter and traveled through the City to the Merchants Quarter where the mercers were to be found. Why they should be recognized Lara never understood, but they obviously were as soon as they stepped over the threshold of the first shop. The mercer oozed with goodwill. His apprentices tumbled over one another to unroll bolts of fabric for Susanna. They snuck looks at Lara from beneath their lashes. The bargain struck between John Swiftsword and Gaius Prospero was publicly known now, for the Master of the Merchants was already seeking to drum up interest among the owners of the Pleasure Houses.

  They looked at what the first mercer had to offer, and then moved on to two more shops, but Lara was not satisfied with the quality of fabrics being shown. Her grandmother had once been in the service of a magnate’s wife as a seamstress. She had passed her knowledge of fabrics on to her only grandchild. And when they were in the Quarter’s market square she had also instructed Lara in the fine art of bargaining. Susanna, a country girl, was not good at haggling for she had never had any experience in it as her father’s daughter, and Lara still did most of the marketing for the household.

  Walking on, they almost missed a small shop squeezed between two larger and more ostentatious ones. Susanna was not inclined to enter, for it looked a poor place with its dirty window, and a door that hung, but barely, from a single hinge. However, Lara gently insisted that until they found the perfect fabrics no establishment, even one so unfortunate looking, could be overlooked.

  “You
are probably right,” she told her stepmother, “but we must look anyway.”

  The inside of the shop looked little better than the outside. It was dim and dusty, but when the ancient mercer hobbled forward Lara’s instincts told her they had come to the right place. “We are looking for silver brocade,” she said.

  “I have precisely what you seek,” the mercer replied politely. His voice was strong for one whose limbs were so frail. Reaching up, he brought a bolt of fabric off a shelf and unfurled it on the counter before their eyes. The silk brocade was cloth of silver, and its raised design was of sky-blue velvet. The quality was excellent, the finest they had seen this morning.

  “It’s perfect!” Lara breathed, turning to her stepmother. “Isn’t it perfect?” She fingered the beautiful material.

  “I have never seen anything so fine,” Susanna agreed softly.

  The old mercer smiled slyly, showing his worn and yellowed teeth. “It would make an applicant for the tourney more than presentable, my ladies. And I have a fine, matching blue silk that would sew up nicely into a pair of more than elegant trunk hose.”

  “And velvet for a cap?” Lara said quietly.

  The mercer nodded. “And I know where you can obtain an excellent selection of plumes.” The twinkle in his eyes was not quite human. His gaze met Lara’s for a long moment while Susanna was murmuring over the cloth. Then he looked at her chain and its star, and nodded. “Ilona’s star,” he whispered.

  “You knew my mother?” Lara murmured softly.

  “Once, long ago,” was the reply. “Like you, I am half faerie, though few live today who would know my heritage.” Then he was all business once again. “Will you take the brocade, lady?” he asked Susanna.

  She nodded. “And the silk and the velvet as well.”

  “You have not asked the price,” he said.