Free Lara by Bertrice Small Page A

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.
    “Lara must come,” her father said.
    “But it will not be her home,” Susanna said carelessly. She could think of nothing else but that she would soon have a real house.
    “Where I am, my daughter will always have a home,” John Swiftsword said sternly to his wife. “She has earned the right to see what her sacrifice has gained