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
