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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: Lara
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“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 position, 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 TWO

S
USANNA
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 chose 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.

Susanna blushed at her ignorance, and stammered. “I must have them,” she said weakly. She looked nervously to Lara.

“And the mercer will be more than fair, stepmother, will you not, sir?” Lara quickly put in.

“If I am fair then the wife of the new Crusader Knight will patronize my shop again,” the old man responded. “Your husband will need many fine garments, as will you and your little son.”

“You know I have a lad?” Susanna looked surprised.

“Everything that can be known about John Swiftsword is known in the City, lady. We have been waiting for this day.” He measured out the length of brocade she would need, and quickly cut it. Then he did the same for the pale blue silk, and the medium blue velvet. Wrapping the materials together in a piece of clean rough cloth he tied the packet shut with a bright piece of yarn, and handed it to her. “If the lady will wait I will write her a receipt,” the mercer told Susanna. “A second receipt, signed with your mark, will be sent to Avram the goldsmith. The amount will be deducted from the credit your husband has with Avram.”

Susanna was half in shock with the transaction. She had never bought anything in a shop like this in all her life. She looked helplessly to Lara.

“It is stuffy in here, stepmother,” the girl said. “Go outside and take the air. I will sign the mercer’s receipt, and learn where we may find feathers for Da’s cap.”

“Yes, I think I will go outside,” Susanna replied. “Thank you, stepdaughter.” Taking up her package, she departed the little shop.

Slowly the ancient mercer wrote out the two receipts. He pushed one forward, and handed the young girl the slender charcoal writing stick. It was almost entirely worn away, but Lara was still able to sign her name to the little parchment. Lara, daughter of John Swiftsword of the Quarter, she wrote in her best hand.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, taking up her receipt as she pushed his toward him.

“Love and light be always in your path, daughter of Ilona,” the mercer said, and he personally ushered her through the door of his shop. “You will find the feather merchant two lanes over. Choose a hawk’s feather for it will bring your father additional good fortune. Your stepmother will want a more showy plume, but be certain your will prevails in the matter. One feather. No more.”

“I understand,” Lara responded, and then the shop door closed behind her and she rejoined her stepmother, who waited in the street. “Come,” she said to Susanna. “He has told me where to find the feather merchant.”

As the old mercer had predicted her father’s young wife wanted the largest, whitest plume she saw. “Think how fine it will look with the blue velvet of your father’s cap, Lara,” she said excitedly, waving it about as the feather merchant grinned.

“It is beautiful,” Lara agreed, “but do you not think it too big? It will draw all the attention away from Da. No one can compete with so wonderful a waving plume. The least breeze, and it will lift the cap from his very head.” She laughed lightly. Her eyes scanned the tall glass canisters of feathers displayed. “I can see such a plume in your lovely hair one day, stepmother, but not, I think, on Da’s cap.”

The feather merchant scowled at her. “It is my finest plume,” he said.

“Oh, it is very fair,” Lara agreed, “but I think a feather that spoke more to my father’s skills as well as his good taste would better suit. The plume is too ostentatious.” She pointed. “Let us see that glass of hawk’s feathers. Don’t you think them elegant, stepmother?” She drew forth a long slender feather mixed with black, white and russet that was tipped with gold. “This one!” she exclaimed.

“It is very nice,” Susanna agreed hesitantly, “but is not the white plume better?”

“The plume, I think, is the sort of thing every boy applying for the tourney will have jutting from his cap. Is that not so?” she directed her question to the feather merchant. “I will wager you have sold more plumes than anything else since the tourney was announced. I feel the hawk’s feather will distinguish Da, and it will bring him luck, stepmother.”

The feather merchant nodded reluctantly. “Your lass is right,” he said. “I have sold nothing but white plumes to those applying. And I am the only feather merchant in the City. The hawk’s feather she so carefully drew from the canister is the finest one I possess. It will indeed identify your man, and permit him to stand out among the others.”

“Then I shall have it!” Susanna told him firmly.

“The hawk’s feather is more expensive than the plume,” he said.

“Wrap it carefully,” Susanna instructed him. “My stepdaughter will sign the receipt. Our account is with Avram the goldsmith. Lara, I will await you outside.” And Susanna swept grandly from the feather merchant’s shop, her dignity restored.

Restraining her laughter, Lara stood quietly as the man first rolled the elegant hawk’s feather in a length of gauze, then slipped it into a long, narrow wooden tube with a metal top. He wrote out two receipts, and pushed one forward for Lara to sign.

“So you’re to be a Pleasure Woman,” he said as he handed her the container and her copy of the receipt. He eyed her boldly.

“I know not what I will be,” Lara said coldly. “That is up to Gaius Prospero.” Then she turned, and left the establishment. The man was too forward.

“What is the matter?” Susanna asked her, seeing the anger on her stepdaughter’s beautiful face. “Are you all right?”

Lara shook her head. “The feather merchant spoke out of turn,” she replied. “It is nothing. Do you have the proper needles and threads we will need for this undertaking?”

Susanna nodded. “Aye, I do.” When Lara got that particular look on her face it was best to leave her be, and inquire no further.

“Then we should go home, stepmother. We have much work ahead of us,” the girl said in gentler tones. Then she smiled at Susanna. “We have been most successful this morning. You must speak to the cobbler in the Quarter. Da will need fine new boots to complete his attire, and the shoemaker must seek out the best leathers he can find.”

“But, Lara, will that not be expensive?” Susanna said.

The girl laughed and patted her stepmother’s arm. “Very expensive, but it will not make a dent in the credit Avram the goldsmith holds in Da’s name,” she said. “You are almost rich, Susanna, and I think it is time you got used to it,” she teased the older woman. “When we have finished Da’s garments we must make you a fine gown in which to attend the tourney.”

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