Lara (7 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: Lara
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The Crusader nodded and wrote it down. Then he said, “Turn about, please.”

John swung around slowly.

“Appearance, excellent,” the Crusader Knight said, and checked off a small box on the parchment application. “Place of origin?”

“The Midlands.”

“Father’s occupation?”

“Farmer.”

“How long a mercenary?”

“Since age fifteen.”

“Your age now?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Married?”

“Yes.”

“Children?”

“Two.”

“Have you sired sons or daughters?”

“A son with my wife, and a daughter with a Faerie woman,” he replied.

“And you desire more sons?”

“Aye!”

“Who is your sponsor, John Swiftsword?” the Crusader Knight asked.

“Sir Ferris Ironshield,” he replied. His throat was getting dryer by the minute.

“Any secondaries?”

“Sir Ajax and Sir Iven.”

“First battle skill?”

“The sword” was the proud reply.

“Secondary skills?” the Crusader Knight demanded sharply.

“Lance, mace and axe.” Was that sweat running down his back?

“You are a talented soldier,” the Crusader Knight said with a small smile. “Your application is accepted by the tournament committee, John Swiftsword. What colors will you wear when you fight?”

“Green and gold,” John said. Green for Lara’s eyes, and gold for her hair. He would honor his daughter in this fashion.

The Crusader Knight marked it down on the application, and then wrote in large letters across the face of the parchment,
ACCEPTED
. “I shall look forward to seeing you on tournament day. You will draw a number now to determine the day upon which you will do battle.” He held out a velvet bag to the applicant.

John plunged his hand into the bag and drew out a tile. He handed it to the Crusader Knight. “It says one,” he noted.

“Then you fight on the first day. That is good. You will have time to rest up for the final battle. Congratulations! Step aside. Next!”

He stepped away from the table half-dazed, and walked into the crowds pressing in about the square. Suddenly he felt a small hand slip into his, and he knew at once it was his daughter’s. “Were you able to see?” he asked, not even bothering to look at her.

“I was right up front, Da. You looked so lordly, and your voice was so strong and sure. I was very proud. I’m sorry Mikhail wasn’t old enough to see this day, but you will tell him about it when he is, won’t you?”

“Aye, lass, I will. And I will tell him of his half faerie sister whose beauty made it all possible,” John Swiftsword said softly. “I have not said it before, Lara. Thank you.” Then stopping, he bent and kissed her smooth forehead.

“I am not unhappy, Da. I know my mother broke your heart. But the beauty I have inherited from her will atone for her sin, and we will both begin new lives. I am happy.”

“You are certain of that, Lara? I could not bear if you were unhappy. Aye, Ilona broke my heart, but your loving sweetness has healed my hurt long since.”

“I am happy, Da, I swear it! And besides,” she teased him, “it is too late to go back now, for I doubt the mercer would accept your tunic in exchange for his cloth.”

He laughed. Lara could always wheedle him from the deepest doldrums, and he had been very torn over these last months. He had fretted like an old woman, but now he must release all his crochets and fears. Lara was right. It was much too late to go back. He must clear his mind and heart of all darkness. In six days the tourney would begin. And while everyone was certain that he would win his place among the finalists, nothing in life, John Swiftsword knew, was ever a certainty.

CHAPTER THREE

B
UT
HE
DID
WIN
as they had all predicted. He had slept little the night before, but from excitement, not from nervousness. He rose early, bathed and then he had gone off to the tournament field where Sir Ferris, Sir Ajax and Sir Iven awaited him in a small tent. He had checked his weapons, and lifted each of Aristaeus’s hooves to be certain they were clean, and free of stones that might impede the animal’s performance. The three old knights had helped him to dress. The call to the joust had sounded, and he had mounted his warhorse, ridden out and prevailed over all his opponents. It had been, he thought, shockingly simple. There had been no time to look for his wife and family in the stands. He would not have known where Gaius Prospero’s box was anyway.

When she awoke on the morning of the tournament, Lara had found her father already gone. Her stepmother was weeping softly in a corner by the fire. “What is the matter, Susanna?” she inquired anxiously.

“What if he loses?” Susanna said sobbing. “Then it has all been for naught!”

Irritation pricked at Lara’s nerves, but she restrained herself from shouting at Susanna for even considering such a thing, and bringing bad luck on her father. “Da will prevail,” she told her stepmother. “Do not think to bring ill fortune on him, Susanna. Now we must bathe quickly. Our litters will be here shortly, I am certain.”

No sooner had they finished bathing than Mistress Mildred arrived to help them with Mikhail. She was dressed in her finest gown, for Susanna had invited her to accompany them. “Go about your business, my dears,” she said. “I will dress the laddie and have him ready. You’ve nursed him, Susanna?”

“Aye, he’s content,” Susanna replied. She hurried to don the beautiful gown Lara had made for her. It was of lilac silk brocade with wide flared sleeves with dagged edges. The waist was high, and beneath the bosom Lara had embroidered a band with a swirling design of silver and gold. The neckline had a simple white silk collar. It was elegant, but not overdone. On her dark head, Susanna would wear a heart-shaped headdress. Her hair was done up beneath a crispinette of fine gold mesh.

A knock sounded and Mistress Mildred hurried to answer it. “’Tis too early for the litters,” she grumbled, but opening the door she discovered a large woman with a basket.

“I am Tania. I was sent by my master to do the slave Lara’s hair,” she said.

“Come in! Come in! The girl is just out of her bath,” Mistress Mildred said. “Lara, here is a woman to fix your lovely hair. Gaius Prospero sent her,” she called.

“I was not expecting such kindness,” Lara said, coming forward wrapped in a drying sheet.

“Kindness? Hah!” Tania scoffed. “You are being displayed to future buyers, girl, and nothing more. You must be shown at your best. Sit down at that table. I will need it to hold my tools. You will not garb yourself until your hair is fashioned. I have seen the gown, and since it fastens at the shoulders you can step into it.”

Lara sat down, and Tania began brushing out the girl’s long hair until it was a smooth thick sheet. Standing back she considered her next course of action. Reaching into the basket she drew out strings of beads. They were tiny gold, silver, crystal and pearls strung on almost invisible gold chains. Tania took a hank of Lara’s silvery-gold hair and fashioned it into a thin braid. Then she wove several more narrow plaits into which she fastened the slender gold chains studded with their beads of silver and gold. These she interspersed with the strings of little pearls and sparkling crystals, weaving them into the tops of the braids which lay atop a background of Lara’s thick hair.

“Let us get you dressed now and I will finish my work,” Tania said.

The gown Gaius Prospero had sent for Lara was simple and virginal, yet sensual and exotic. It was sleeveless, fastening at the shoulders and having a round neckline that lay at the base of her collarbone. The material was of creamy silk, diaphanous and shot through with gold. Her entire young body was quite visible. Susanna brought the garment forward.

“Wait,” Tania said, and she reached into her basket. “Her nipples must be rouged to draw the eye to them.” She drew forth a small round container, removed its lid, and pulling away Lara’s drying sheet briskly colored the young girl’s nipples. “Give it a moment to dry and then we will put your gown on,” she said.

Lara’s pale cheeks grew rosy with her blushes.

“Should a virgin’s breasts be so displayed?” Susanna asked nervously.

“The girl is to be a Pleasure Woman, mistress. Today our master will display her to her best advantage to gain the highest price. Already the rumors abound about her faerie beauty. And I can see that none will be disappointed. She has a lovely bosom and it must be shown. Come, they should be dry now. Quickly! The garment.”

Lara could tell by the stunned looks of Mistress Mildred and Susanna that her gown was everything Gaius Prospero intended it to be. She wished there was a glass in the hovel as there had been at Gaius Prospero’s home. She had removed the hair from her pubic mound, as her master had instructed her to do. Her mound seemed somehow plumper without its covering of golden curls. Tania set a small circular cap of gold and silver mesh dotted with crystals on her head. Then she placed a thin cloth of gold cloak about the girl’s shoulders.

“You are ready now, and the litter should be waiting for you,” Tania said. “I will see you in a few days when you come to the master’s house.”

“Thank you!” Lara said softly. “You have been kind.”

“I have done my duty as I was instructed,” Tania said gruffly, but the girl’s simple gratitude pleased her. The attiring woman might be a slave, but she appreciated good manners. She had served many a girl like Lara for her master. Some were frightened and wept constantly. Others were aware of the opportunity being offered them and became proud and rude. This girl was different. Not only was she the most beautiful girl Tania had ever seen, there was something about her… Tania scrambled to find a word within her mind, but she could not. It had to be the girl’s faerie blood, she finally decided. “Good day, mistress,” she said to Susanna, and then she was gone, leaving the door open behind her.

Outside they saw the litters were indeed awaiting them. Susanna took her son from Mistress Mildred, who was helped into the vehicle by one of the bearers. It was constructed of solid ebony, striped with gold and hung with sheer red curtains. Mikhail turned nervously as he was handed to the older woman, and was about to cry a protest until his mother entered the litter. His little mouth closed even as he began to inspect his new surroundings with his bright eyes. Lara had made her baby brother a little tunic of the blue and silver fabric.

Lara entered her own transport, which was painted silver and hung with sheer turquoise silk curtains. She lounged luxuriously upon plump cushions of coral and gold as if she had always traveled in such a manner. She felt the litter lifted up, and the four bearers set off at a brisk pace. They quickly departed the Quarter, moving through narrow streets that eventually opened into broader avenues. They crossed the Great Square where Lara had watched her father’s application be accepted for the tourney, taking an avenue that led through the Tournament Gate out to the large field where the tourney was held every three years. The gate itself was opened only for the tournament.

The litter bearers stopped, and the curtains were drawn aside. A plump, beringed hand Lara recognized immediately offered itself to help her out. Gaius Prospero beamed at her, nodding with approval as he lifted the cloak a moment to see the gown.

“Ahh,” he noted, “I see Tania has rouged your nipples. The woman has incredible instincts. I could not do without her assistance. You look lovely, Lara. I foresee a golden future for my golden faerie girl,” he chuckled.

“I am but half faerie, Master,” Lara replied, “and I know no magic.”

“Just as well,” Gaius Prospero responded, “but you have the faerie look, Lara, and that is important, for none are more beautiful than your mother’s race. Even the coastal peoples are not as fair. But come, and you as well, Mistress Susanna. I will take you to my private box. My wife and children are there today, for John Swiftsword’s reputation is famous and today’s jousts will be legend.” He led them to the covered pavilion, whose awning shaded comfortable chairs with leather seats and backs, their wooden arms and legs decorated with gilded carvings. A woman, a man and three children were already there.

“My wife, the lady Vilia,” Gaius Prospero said. “Here is the lovely Lara, my dear. Is she not perfect as I have said? And Lara’s stepmother, Mistress Susanna, her son and the little lad’s nursemaid.” It did not occur to Gaius Prospero that poor people did not employ nursemaids for their children.

Susanna was about to correct his interpretation when she caught Mistress Mildred’s eye, and the old woman shook her head in warning. Susanna smiled and said, “I am honored to meet you, my lady Vilia.”

“And I you,” the lady Vilia replied. She was an attractive woman not a great deal older than Susanna. “Ohh, I love babies,” she cooed at Mikhail, who gave her a large and toothless smile.

A second wife, obviously, Lara thought silently. Wealthy men like Gaius Prospero were known to divorce older wives and take young ones, as if a young wife would keep them young, too.

“This is my secretary, Jonah,” Gaius Prospero spoke again, but he was addressing Lara alone. His wife, Susanna and Mistress Mildred were already chattering like old friends. As for Aubin Prospero, he was looking as bored as any child would. He wanted the jousting to begin. His two older sisters looked at Lara, and giggled behind their hands.

“We are beginning to attract some notice, my lord,” Jonah said. “I think it is time to remove the girl’s cloak. May I?”

The Master of the Merchants nodded imperceptibly.

Jonah lifted the garment from Lara’s shoulders, and laid it carefully aside. Taking her hand, he drew her forward so she might be seen in all her golden beauty. Across the tournament field where the mistresses of the Pleasure Houses and the Magnates sat, there was an immediate stirring of interest.

“Are the invitations out yet?” Gaius Prospero asked his secretary.

“Yesterday, my lord. The acceptances will come quickly now, I suspect.” There was almost a smile on his narrow lips.

“Sit down now, Lara,” her master said quietly.

She did, and took the opportunity to gaze about the field. Flags flew everywhere. To their left were the magnates and the mistresses of the Pleasure Houses. To their right sat the Crusader Knights, their families and their guests. At the opposite end of the field was the entry where the contestants would enter. Gaius Prospero’s pavilion was but one of six at his end. There were few places for ordinary folk, but many managed to clamber up onto the low stone walls that surrounded the field.

The tournament began with a flourish of trumpets, and the combatants paraded into the ring and past the Crusader Knights, stopping to dip their lances to their leader, the Grande Knight, before riding off the field. Next came the pairing of contestants, and the jousting began. Lara cried out with delight as her father unhorsed his first opponent, then leapt from his steed to do battle afoot, but the young man yielded without a fight, amid the boos of the spectators. Several times more that day John Swiftsword rode forth to do battle, defeating aspirant after aspirant. At day’s end he was the only one left standing, and was declared the winner of the first day. His place within the ranks of the Crusader Knights was assured. On the last day of the tourney he and the other four winners would battle symbolically with each other and members of the knightly order. Then they would be knighted in the arena by the Grande Knight.

Lara and her companions were returned home in the litters that had brought them. Susanna hurried to remove her beautiful gown and don a more sensible garment so she might prepare a fine feast for her husband’s victory. Already word had spread throughout the Quarter of John Swiftsword’s victory that day, and neighbors were pushing into their hovel to taste a small bit of his victory. Lara had slipped immediately into the tiny chamber she shared with her baby brother and removed the exquisite garment she had worn that day. It was not for inhabitants of the Quarter. She wiped the rouge from her nipples, and slipped on her plain round-necked gown of dark blue. Then she carefully removed the slender gold chains from her hair, undid the elaborate plaits that Tania had fashioned earlier and redressed her tresses into two simple braids. Then she went out to assist her stepmother. Except for the neighbors, life was as it had always been.

Her father arrived home on foot, for Aristaeus was already stabled in the Garden District. He smelled of wine, for Sir Ferris, Sir Ajax and Sir Iven had insisted they celebrate his victory—their victory—together. In just five more days he would be knighted and officially one of them. But as exhausted as he was from his physical travails, and as tired as he was from the strain of worrying if he was really good enough to win the day, he greeted his neighbors with charm and goodwill. What had begun as a small celebration given by his family now turned into a Quarter-wide fest. This was a great moment for the Mercenaries. One of their own had not reached the rank of Crusader Knight in over sixty years. Food was shared, ale and cider flowed, and it was well past midnight when the Quarter finally grew silent.

The next morning a page was sent from the Garden District to accompany the future Sir John Swiftsword and his family as they chose which house they would have among those currently available. Susanna was beside herself with excitement.

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