Free The Wandering Harlot (The Marie Series) by Iny Lorentz Page A

cracked lips.
    She arrived at the fairgrounds, still thinking about how the girl could help make her money. A number of tents and booths were already standing, while others were being set up. As she was looking for the best place to set up her tent, the Merzlingen fair supervisor headed toward her to collect the prostitute’s fee. His look suggested he also intended a payment in services later. She just hoped he would bathe beforehand.
    While counting out the coins Hiltrud had given him, he pointed at Marie. “What about her?”
    “I found her alongside the road and brought her along. You can’t ask me to pay the tax for her as well.” Hiltrud was going to turn away, but it wasn’t so easy to evade the city finance representative.
    “Judging by her robe, she’s a whore, so you have to pay two pennies for her, too.”
    Hiltrud sighed. “Come back tomorrow, and if she’s still alive, you’ll get your money.”
    The supervisor laughed and held out his hand. Hiltrud didn’t know whether she was angrier about man’s greed or her own softheartedness. She took out her purse with another sigh and looked until she found two Haller pennies instead of the good Regensburg ones. He accepted the inferior coins with a surly glance and left to collect fees from another arrival. Hiltrud let out a relieved breath and went to pick out her tent site.
    Jossi’s Jugglers had set up their tents in the shadow of some tall trees, and Hiltrud found a place not far away. She pulled her wagon over, unhitched the goats, and tied them to two pegs she hammered into the ground with a stone. In the process of unloading the unconscious girl by herself, her cart tipped over, spilling all her belongings on the ground. Hiltrud cursed under her breath but set up her tent quickly, as usual, then dragged the battered girl inside and laid her down on a blanket. She cast a glance at the hordes of men milling about outside who feigned interest in the merchants’ stalls and the performers. In truth, most of them were eyeing the prostitutes and, after short negotiations, disappeared with them into their tents or in the bushes down by the river. A client approached Hiltrud and spoke to her, but she turned him away, shaking her head. He cursed, spat on the ground, and moments later went into another woman’s tent.
    Placing her hands on her hips, Hiltrud looked down at the unconscious girl. “Do you have any idea of all the trouble you’re causing me? Because of you, I have to pass up offers, so see to it you stay alive and pay me back every penny!”
    She took a kettle and left the tent to fetch some water at the river. Then she found some dry moss, grass, and twigs; set up her trivet in front of the tent; and lit a fire. While the water in the kettle was heating, she cut the robe from the girl’s body, leaving the parts that were stuck to the girl’s wounds untouched. When the water started to boil, she took part of the robe, dipped it in the steaming water, and carefully started loosening and removing the remaining scraps of cloth.
    As Hiltrud concentrated on her good deed, a short, scrawny middle-aged man appeared at her tent. He wore clean, gray trousers, a brown waistcoat, and leather shoes with copper buckles. Finding the tent flap open, he noticed the battered woman.
    “Hello, Hiltrud. Who is this you’ve picked up off the street?”
    Looking peeved, Hiltrud turned around, but her face brightened when she recognized her visitor, Peter Herbmann. The apothecary was a regular customer who looked her up whenever she came to the fair. She liked him, as he paid well and was a gentle lover who treated her better than most men. For a moment she was afraid she might lose him as a customer if she refused him.
    Herbmann didn’t demand anything of her or turn away offended, but instead knelt down and examined the girl. Hiltrud was happy to see that his eyes passed indifferently over the girl’s especially well-formed body, expressing only a mixture of