Lara: Book One of the World of Hetar

Truda had rejoined the women the second morning, but her harsh punishment had done nothing to sweeten her disposition. The others did their best to ignore her, taking silent pleasure in the fact that sitting was obviously painful for Truda after her beating last night. She had brought whatever she got on herself, Belda insisted. A slave kept her mouth shut unless it was required she speak. Truda knew better. Fairplay was known to be good to the slaves he transported. The wine that she had so freely swilled had been a generous treat meant for them all, and her greed had spoiled it. It was unlikely they would see wine again.

The day passed without incident, and the next morning they turned off the main track into the hills. The women learned from one of the mercenaries that their first stop was to be in the Forest province at the Great Hall of the Head Forester. The six women traveling with Lara were a prepaid consignment for the Forest Lords. They would be delivered, and the caravan would move on toward the next destination—the Desert kingdom of the Shadow Princes.

“The Forest Lords are not easy masters, I’ve been told,” Belda said.

“Are they kind?” Noss quavered, her eyes wide.

“To those who work hard, aye, I’m sure they would be kind,” Belda responded. Poor little Noss was afraid of her own shadow. She would have to toughen up, or it was unlikely she would survive.

“They’re lusty as buck deer in all seasons I’ve been told,” Truda said with a smirk. “They will just love mounting a fresh little virgin like you, Noss.” And she laughed.

“Be quiet!” Belda snapped. “Do not frighten the child with your gossip, which is more than likely wrong. If you do not shut your mouth, Truda, I will tell Rolf Fairplay. Perhaps you would like another beating with his strap? You are still having difficulty sitting, and it has been several days since you felt his wrath.”

Truda glared darkly at Belda, but she said no more.

The road wandered through hillsides of lowing cattle, and fat woolly sheep. Lara was enchanted with the beauty of it all. She had never imagined that such a world existed outside of the City. Ahead she could see trees, and with each step the donkeys took their cart closer and closer. Two mornings later they stopped at the border post between the Midlands and the Forest Kingdom. Officials from each province were there to inspect Rolf Fairplay’s papers. His cargo was thoroughly checked to ascertain that he carried no contraband, and that the number of slaves listed was exactly the number in the caravan.

The border official from the Midlands province knew that all of Rolf’s papers would be in order, for the trader’s reputation was sterling. But the official from the Forest Kingdom carefully inspected everything on the roster, checking each item off as he came upon it. Foresters were very tradition-bound peoples. When finally both sides of the border were satisfied that everything was in order, the caravan was waved through into the Forest.

Lara had never seen a Forest, let alone been in one. There were so many trees, and in some places they were so thick that the sun had difficulty getting through. Even the City was lighter, she thought. But it was also very beautiful, yet still but for the birds singing in the trees, and the rippling of water from the streams and brooks. The green, she thought, was a very soothing color. Now and again the road led through a flower-filled meadow. Sometimes browsing deer, startled by their passage, would leap away into the safety of the tall trees.

They stopped at midday to rest and water the pack animals. Rolf Fairplay came to the wagon, where the women were now milling about. Taking Lara aside he said, “You will remain in the wagon when we reach the hall of the Head Forester, my girl. You are not for these rough crude men, but for a Coastal King. Foresters, however, are lusty and greedy. If they see you they will want you, and I shall have great difficulty convincing them otherwise. It is better if you remain hidden. I will see to your comfort while we are here, but you must remain out of sight. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord,” Lara said. Then, “Would it be possible for Noss to remain with me? She is very frightened, and so young.”

Rolf Fairplay patted Lara’s hand. It was a gesture that reminded her of Gaius Prospero. “You have a good heart, Lara, but the girl has already been bought and paid for. She belongs to the Forest Lords. I will suggest to the Head Forester that she be put with a kind mistress. It is the best we can do.”

“Yes, my lord,” Lara replied.

They were fed, and took their relief, and then the caravan moved from the meadow back onto the dark Forest track. Because it was summer, the day was a very long one, and they reached the hall of the Head Forester before dusk. As the caravan stopped, Lara peeked out, but she saw nothing but trees.

“Where are we?” she asked Belda, who seemed to be relatively knowledgeable.

“Look up,” Belda whispered back. “Their halls are in the trees themselves. See the staircases winding about the great trunks? It is impossible for an enemy to break into their halls because of it. The stairs are steep and narrow.”

Lara looked up amazed. She could see the lights from a great hall twinkling amid the leaves and branches. And smoke! There was obviously a fireplace in this odd building as well. She could never have imagined such a thing, and realized now that beyond the City a great and varied world existed. She could not wait to see more. She bid her companions farewell, advising Noss not to cry and appear a weakling lest she be victimized by others. She thanked Belda and the others for their kindness and company. Then she watched as they were led up into the hall in the trees, praying that they would have kind masters. Instinctively her hand went to her star pendant for comfort, and she smiled at herself for her own foolishness.

A mercenary brought her a slab of bread, meat and cheese. He poured some wine from his own skin into a little cup for her. “Thank you,” Lara said softly.

He nodded, saying in a gruff voice, “You are one of our own, Lara, daughter of John Swiftsword. We will guard you on your journey, never fear.” Then he moved quickly away.

Lara ate her cold meal, and then curling up on her mattress she drew up her coverlet, and settled down to sleep. She wondered what was happening in the great hall in the trees above her, and peeped a final time through the canvas flap. She could hear singing coming from the trees. Or was it the sound of voices raised in protest? She shivered and dropped the flap, settling back on her mattress.

Far above her, the Head Forester was arguing with Rolf Fairplay, though Lara could not hear the rough voice who shouted, “I was promised six women slaves!”

“I have delivered you six,” Rolf said.

“You have brought me five, and a whining, frightened girl. I paid for six women,” Durga, the Head Forester snarled.

“I have brought the six females consigned to me by the trader with whom you placed your order. Take the matter up with him, my lord. I only agreed to deliver these women as a favor to my guild. I am receiving naught for my trouble, I might add.”

“I need six strong women. Women who can work the day long and be used for pleasure by the lower lords at night. Even I can see that the child is too young to be mounted.” He glared at Noss. “How old are you?” he demanded of her.

“Twelve, my lord,” Noss quavered.

“Are you moonlinked yet?” Durga persisted.

“No, my lord,” the girl whispered. She had begun to shake with her fear. Belda put an arm about her to keep Noss from collapsing.

“I will not accept her,” Durga said firmly.

“That is your decision, my lord,” Rolf Fairplay said. “I am content to refund you your coin for the girl, or send back to the City for a stronger, older female for you. The bill of lading says the little lass was but five gold pieces. I can take her along with me to sell in the Coastal Province. As I have pointed out, I did not take this order from you myself. I did not choose the women in the consignment. I have only made the delivery.” He stood tall and firm before the Head Forester.

“I wanted six young women,” Durga grumbled.

“I offer you my most abject apologies, my lord. Had you placed the order with me there should have been no difficulty. I am aware of your tastes. I will bear the extra cost above your five gold pieces for another woman in an effort to regain your favor,” Rolf Fairplay said smoothly. “It is the least I can do for the inconvenience caused you.”

“Well,” Lord Durga said sourly, “I suppose if that is the best you can do I must be satisfied, Rolf Fairplay. Your reputation for honesty is well known throughout Hetar.”

The Taubyl Trader felt an easing of the tensions in the hall with Durga’s words. But suddenly the slave woman Truda broke away from the other women and fell to her knees before the Head Forester.

“He has another woman in his caravan, my lord!”

“What is this?” Durga growled fiercely. He stared down at Truda, deciding he liked her large pillowy breasts. He would mount her later, and take pleasure of her. Then he looked directly at Rolf Fairplay. “Is this true? Is there another woman with your party? Have you attempted to cheat me by palming off this child on us while you keep the woman meant for us?” His hand went to the dagger at his waist.

If he had had a weapon he would have slain Truda where she knelt, Rolf Fairplay thought angrily. Instead he said, “I do indeed have another woman with my caravan, my lord. She is a consignment for one of the Coastal Kings from my cousin, Gaius Prospero.” He smiled a quick smile, but his eyes were cold and cautious.