Bertrice Small - Lara

“And you will,” she encouraged him. “So you found your horse?”

“Aye. And while I am good with a sword and a spear, my skills with the axe and the mace need work. Sir Ferris says we will work on them over the next few months.”

“Then all is as it should be now, husband,” Susanna replied.

It was autumn and as the days lengthened Lara and her stepmother began the process of creating and sewing the garments that John Swiftsword would wear on the day of the applications for entrance to the rank of tournament goers. Lara carefully cut her father’s tunic out from the beautiful silver brocade they had purchased. Then she cut the trunk hose from the sky blue silk. Only then did they begin the sewing. Susanna carefully stitched together the hose, taking her time, and working hard to make her stitches as fine as Lara’s. An impossibility, she decided, but she tried anyway. Little Mikhail sat on the floor of the hovel playing with pieces of discarded material, and quite content to do so. He was his father’s son in all ways.

Lara had returned to the old mercer’s shop twice to purchase other materials as she considered how she would decorate her father’s tunic. She had also found a lovely lilac cloth for Susanna’s gown, which she would make only after the tunic was done. She had designed the tunic with a round neckline. Around it she sewed a wide band of cloth of silver she had embroidered with gold, silver and dark blue threads. She then added tiny gold and silver beads. The small straight opening in the neckline gave way to a short stretch of the same embroidery down the front of the tunic. The garment was slit on either side and the slits, as well as the hem of the tunic, were decorated with identical embroidery, which also curled about the cuffs of the full sleeves. Lara also made a wide embroidered belt to hang low on the garment. It was a labor of love that took weeks to accomplish. While she toiled over the tunic, Susanna made her husband’s trunk hose, and the velvet cap with the hawk’s feather he would wear. She had also gone to the cobbler and had a pair of soft leather shoes with turned-back cuffs made along with a pair of fine leather boots for her husband. Lara took the shoes and embroidered their cuffs to match her father’s tunic.

And then to their surprise, one day Sir Ferris Ironshield arrived at the door of their hovel. “I have come to inspect the application garments,” he said in his gruff voice.

“My husband is not here,” Susanna said nervously.

“Of course he isn’t!” Sir Ferris growled. “He is on the practice field where I left him with Sir Ajax and Sir Iven. He has improved tremendously under our tutelage, mistress. I have no doubt that in a few weeks he will be one of us.”

“Come in, sir,” Lara beckoned, giving her stepmother a moment to recover. “I will fetch Da’s garments, which we have completed only yesterday.”

“Yes,” Susanna finally found her tongue. “May I offer you a bit of cider, Sir Ferris, while Lara brings my husband’s clothing?” She ushered him to the bench by the fire. “Sit down, please.” She bustled to pour the cider into her best wooden cup, and handed it to him quickly.

He drank it appreciatively. “It has been a long time since I have visited the Quarter,” he noted. “Nothing here seems to change, I fear. It is still a poor place, and I hear the Mercenary’s Guild is now taking a fee from its men to provide them with work. Shameful, but what can you expect with so much of their custom going to nonmembers?”

“I did not know,” Susanna said softly.

“Nay, I expect your man would keep it from you. Well, not to fret, mistress. You’ll soon be ensconced in the Garden District where you belong.”

“Here are my da’s garments, sir,” Lara said as she brought forth the tunic, and held it out for him to see. “The trunk hose are sky-blue silk, and my stepmother will fetch his cap that you may see it.”

Sir Ferris carefully looked over everything they displayed to his view. The tunic was quite magnificent, and the shoe cuffs were a nice touch. The application officers would be very impressed. Without a doubt it was the garment of a Crusader Knight. When he saw the velvet cap Susanna showed him, he nodded with a pleased smile. “Excellent, mistress. And you have been wise enough to avoid those damned white plumes almost every applicant feels he needs to put in his cap. The hawk’s feather is elegant, and most manly. John Swiftsword would stand out with just the cap alone.” He stood up. “You have done well, and I am content that with a good performance on the field John Swiftsword will soon become a Crusader Knight. I thank you for the cider.” Then with a stiff little bow to them both, he departed the hovel.

“Imagine,” Susanna finally managed to say, “he came to us. He must really like your father and think well of him. I am so proud. When we are settled in our new home I shall ask him and his two friends to dine with us.”

“I must begin your gown tomorrow,” Lara said.

“You would not show me the material you obtained,” Susanna complained. “Will you show it to me now?”

Lara laughed. “Very well, but you must swear you will trust me to make the gown for you.”

“I am in your hands,” Susanna chuckled. “Now show me the fabric!”

Lara went to the chest on the far side of the room and lifted out a carefully wrapped packet. Bringing it to the table she undid it, and Susanna gasped.

“It’s too beautiful,” she cried. “I am not worthy of such loveliness!”

“It is perfect,” Lara said. “I have planned a simple design, for a more elaborate garment would not be suitable for an applicant’s wife.”

“But the fabric itself…” Susanna held it up and against her. The lilac silk had a shimmering and iridescent quality to it. It was quite unique.

“The fabric,” Lara told her stepmother, “is perfect with your dark brown hair and eyes. And your skin has a lovely rosy glow to it. When I saw it I knew it was for you.”

Susanna began to cry, and Lara snatched the material from her lest her tears stain the fabric. “I wish you didn’t have to leave us,” she said, and thought for the first time that she actually meant it.

“My fate isn’t with you and Da,” Lara replied. “I do not know where it will be, but I know it isn’t with you. Perhaps that is my faerie blood speaking.”

And then the winter was over and Lara celebrated her fifteenth birthday with the spring. The day of the applications was upon them. Her father had risen early, and Susanna with him. He had bathed himself completely in the wooden tub, not just his body, but his hair as well. Susanna had shaved his handsome face smooth, being careful not to nick and bloody her husband. She called for Lara to come and put the tunic on her father when he was garbed in his sky-blue trunk hose, and the dark blue shirt whose sleeves would show from beneath the tunic.

Together Lara and Susanna drew the tunic over John’s head. The garment fell, and Lara carefully closed the little silver frogs at the neckline. She stood back and smiled, pleased. “Da, you have never looked so grand. Sir Ferris told us that these are the garments of a Crusader Knight, and he was surely right.” Fastening the embroidered belt about the tunic, she knelt and fitted the soft leather shoes to her father’s feet.

Susanna handed her husband his velvet cap. He placed it on his head, drawing it to one side, and the hawk’s feather jutted jauntily. He strutted about the hovel proudly, and then turning to his wife and daughter he said, “Thank you.”

Lara went to the door of the hovel and unbarred it.

“Go now,” Susanna said. “When you return I will have a meal for you.”

He strode from the dwelling, and when he was out of sight Susanna turned to speak to her stepdaughter, but Lara was nowhere to be found. Susanna chuckled. Her stepdaughter, she had not a doubt, had followed her father that she might stand in the crowd in the City’s main square and watch John Swiftsword as he made his application to the tournament of the Crusader Knights, and was formally and publicly accepted. She was entitled to this little triumph, Susanna thought generously, for it was Lara’s sacrifice that had made this all possible.