Bertrice Small: 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 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.