Lara: Book One of the World of Hetar. Bertrice Small

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 master, Gaius Prospero, suggested I be sold in the Coastal Province, but Rolf Fairplay said he thought one of the Shadow Princes might like me,” Lara murmured.

      “I’ll wager a Forest Lord would enjoy your favors greatly,” Truda said meanly. “Being a hall whore is quite like being a fancy Pleasure Woman except for the niceties involved,” she said with a chuckle.

      “Don’t pay any attention to her,” Belda said. “Truda is angry because her last master’s wife caught her fucking one of the house’s sons, and insisted she be sold. She was a servant in the Garden District.”

      “And what about you?” Truda demanded angrily.

      “I am no better than I ought to be,” Belda laughed. “My husband sold me to pay his debts. Debts he ran up with another woman. But then, I was in bed with his brother when we were caught, and I was condemned to slavery by the courts.”

      “Was your husband not condemned too for his lechery?” Lara asked.

      “Nay, the law considers it a man’s right to have any woman he desires,” Belda said. “Do you not know this?”

      “I lived in the Quarter my entire life,” Lara answered. “I suppose I was sheltered. My grandmother raised me, and after she died and Da remarried, my stepmother, Susanna did. We were friends, but we never spoke on things such as these.”

      “It is a hard world in which we live, Lara, daughter of Swiftsword,” Belda said.

      They were silent again for the rest of the morning. When the sun had reached its zenith the caravan stopped briefly. They were herded from their wagon, fed bread and water, sent into the bushes to relieve themselves and then returned to the wagon. Their trek began again. Finally at dusk they stopped once more. Mercenary guards were posted about the encampment. A fire was built and food cooked. The women were each given half a trencher filled with a rabbit stew, and a wineskin was handed them to share, but Truda drank the most of it, growing more belligerent by the minute. When she attempted to attack her companions physically, Rolf Fairplay had her strung up naked between two trees. Then he strapped the woman’s bottom until it was red and welted while the entire camp looked on as Truda shrieked more with outrage than pain.

      “I’ll not have my merchandise damaged, woman,” he growled in her face as she hung there between the trees. “Do you understand me?” Then cutting her down, he shoved her toward a group of mercenaries. “She’s yours for the night. I want no bruises on her in the morning. She’s one of the Forest consignment.” He walked away.

      “What will they do to her?” Noss whispered fearfully.

      “Fuck the ears off of her,” Belda laughed. “Serves her right, the bitch. That’ll sober her up quick enough. Come along now, girls. It’s time for us to get our beauty rest.” And she cackled once again as they walked back to the wagon. Inside there were thin mattresses that were rolled up. “Rolf Fairplay told me earlier that Lara and Noss are to sleep in the wagon. The rest of us will spread our mattresses beneath it for protection from any rain in the night.”

      “I am happy to sleep out of doors,” Lara said, not wanting to appear as if she were privileged. She smiled at the other women with them. They were Adda, Wilda and Jael.

      “Nay,” Belda said quietly. “You are to be in the wagon, for we all know you are the most valuable among us by far. And Noss is the youngest, and still frightened. Without Truda complaining and causing dissension we will have a good night.”

      The mattresses were spread out, and Lara climbed into the wagon with young Noss to spread theirs. “How old are you?” she asked Noss.

      “Twelve,” Noss replied. “How old are you?”

      “I am just fifteen,” Lara told her. “My mother mated with my father one Midsummer’s Eve, and I was born with the next spring.” She smiled, laying down next to the girl, and drawing up the coverlet they had been given over the both of them.

      “I am so afraid,” Noss whispered to Lara.

      “Then I must give you a faerie blessing to take away your fears, Noss. Go to sleep. I am by your side, and come the morning you will no longer be afraid.”

      “Really?” Noss quavered.

      “Truly,” Lara said, putting a comforting arm about the younger girl, and soon Noss was sleeping peacefully. Lara, however, lay awake for some time considering how quickly everything had changed in her life. Three nights ago she slept in her father’s new home in the Garden District. Two nights ago she stood displayed for sale to the powerful of the City. Last night she waited to learn her golden fate. And tonight she lay on a thin mattress, in the bottom of a wooden wagon, with absolutely no idea of what was to happen next. She sighed, and picked up the pendant between her two fingers. What is happening? she asked silently.

      Everything, the voice replied as silently.

      But where am I going? Lara demanded.

      Straight ahead, the voice answered, and then the flame flickered bright for a moment, and died back.

      Lara closed her eyes and slept. There was nothing else to do.