the short boots onto Lara’s feet, and draped a dark cloak over her shoulders. “Come, we must hurry,” she said, and together the two walked from the north wing to the front door of the house where Jonah was awaiting them with a small transport he would be driving himself.
Climbing into the vehicle, they moved off, hurrying down the narrow private road onto the main avenue of the Golden District, escorted by the six mercenaries on Gaius Prospero’s payroll. Things might not have turned out quite as the Master of the Merchants had expected, but Lara was still very valuable merchandise. When they reached them, the gates were opened without comment, and they drove out into the City. Lara had never been up this early, nor had she ever known the streets to be so empty or so silent. It was a little frightening. They passed by the closed gates to the Quarter, and for a moment she thought that she would cry. She reached for her star pendant, and the tiny flame within flickered as if to give her new courage.
“Master Jonah,” she said politely, “I have nothing to give you but a faerie blessing, but will you tell my father what has happened to me so that he does not worry? Not my stepmother. Susanna would not tell him, for she overprotects him. My father. And tell him I am not unhappy or afraid, for I know I am shielded from harm.” She felt almost guilty telling Gaius Prospero’s secretary that she would give him a faerie blessing. She hadn’t the faintest idea of how one would do that, but she needed his aid, and she had seen he was not a man who did something for nothing.
“A faerie blessing is a valuable gift, young Lara,” the secretary replied. “I am happy to accept it for I need all the luck I can muster if I am to be free one day.”
“You will be,” Lara told him, amazed as the words came from her mouth. Yet she knew them to be the truth. What was happening to her?
“I will tell him, young Lara. I will also tell him he has a daughter to be proud of,” Jonah said. “You are a brave girl, I think.”
“Will you give me a faerie blessing?” Tania asked anxiously.
“I will give you two.” Lara smiled. “You have been more than kind to me.”
“I put the pearwood brush in your pack,” Tania whispered.
“Thank you, and blessings on you, Tania. And you, Jonah.” How odd, Lara thought, at the sight of their suddenly smiling faces. She knew little of her heritage or its customs, but faerie blessings were obviously highly prized. It was a piece of knowledge she would retain.
They reached the Place of the Traders, where Rolf Fairplay’s great caravan was even now preparing to get under way. Jonah jumped down from the cart and sought out his master’s cousin, bringing him back to where Lara and Tania waited. The trader lifted Lara down from the traveling cart and unfastened the veil.
“They are right,” he said softly. “You are beautiful.” Then he refastened the veil. “Keep your face covered when in public, Lara,” he warned her. “I don’t want you stolen away when you can bring my cousin and me such a fine profit.” He turned to Jonah. “I will take her from here,” he said. “Return to your master and say you have delivered the merchandise.”
“Here is her pack, sir,” Tania said, holding it out for him.
“Take your possessions, Lara, and follow me,” Rolf Fairplay said.
“Goodbye,” Lara told Tania and Jonah, and then she hurried after the trader.
He led her to a large covered cart. “You will have several female companions for some of your journey,” he explained as he helped her into the conveyance. Then he was gone.
Lara looked about at the half-dozen sleepy girls. They were silent, and so she remained silent, too. Outside of the cart the sounds of the caravan getting under way could be heard. A flap had been drawn down, but she could see through the crack along the sides of the canvas. Their cart began to move. Lara watched as they exited through the Traders Gate, as was the law for all caravans. She watched for some time as the walls of the City grew smaller and smaller and finally faded from sight. One of the girls began to weep.
“Why are you crying?” Lara asked her gently.
“I have never been a slave before,” the girl sobbed.
“Neither have I,” Lara told her. “Tell me your name. I am Lara.”
“I am Noss.” The girl hiccupped.
“I know who you are!” one of the other females said. “You are the daughter of John Swiftsword. Your father sold you so he might enter the tourney. You are a faerie child,” she said, drawing her cloak around her with a sneer. “I thought you were to be a Pleasure Woman in one of the great Pleasure Houses, and yet here you are in a wagon of common slave women trekking off to who knows where. Why?”
“Like you,” Lara said softly, “I am a slave. Slaves are not given reasons why.”
“Humphh!” the woman replied, but she grew silent.
Lara smiled to herself. The woman was looking for trouble. She could just imagine what she would have said to the explanation that Lara was considered too beautiful to enter a Pleasure House.
“Are you really a faerie child?” Noss whispered. Her soft brown eyes were wide.
“My mother was faerie, but she deserted my father and me when I was only three months of age. While her blood runs in my veins, I know nothing about the faerie kingdom from whence she came. I was raised to be human just like you, Noss.”
“My father was a mercenary, too, but when he was badly injured he could no longer find employment. I was sold so they might live,” she told Lara. “Our hovel was taken from us, and we were homeless. We last lived in a tunnel beneath the City walls, but my mother was violated by some soldiers who found her there. She heard them coming, and hid me. I saw it all, Lara. Afterward she swore me to secrecy, and told my father that she had fallen while he was out begging so we might buy bread.” Noss sighed. “They hoped by selling me they might escape the City, and buy a bit of land to work in the Midlands. I hope they can,” she finished sadly.
“The life of a mercenary is difficult,” Lara agreed. “I hope your parents find a new and better life. My father and stepmother did, and I am glad. My baby brother, Mikhail, will never know what it is like to be a mercenary’s child.”
“What do you think will happen to us?” Noss asked.
“We’re going to be sold to the highest bidder, you stupid little bitch,” the woman who had earlier attempted to quarrel with Lara said. “All of us are a special consignment for the Forest Lords. They have quite an appetite for female flesh, given how many women are sold into the Forest province nowadays. I guess their own women don’t satisfy them,” she said and laughed out loud. “I won’t mind one of those big brutes foraging between my legs, girls. I have heard they are the lustiest men on Hetar.”
“You talk too much, Truda,” another woman remarked. “I have heard the Forest Lords only mate with those of pure Forest blood. If we’re going to be sold to them, it will be as servants who cook, and clean, and sew, and slop the pigs.”
“Don’t tell me any man is true to his wife all the time, Belda,” Truda snapped back sharply. “Men are like dogs, always sniffing at a new tail, and I intend wagging my tail prettily in my new master’s direction. But I don’t suppose Lara is meant for the Forest,” she sneered.
“My
