sounds like a kind man.” Often in Caralonian society, parentless children were indeed taken in and even treated well by the community—but seldom did one person take sole responsibility for the child of another.
Garon nodded. “My mother died during childbirth, so he raised me.”
So much death in the lives of these men. It made her feel fortunate to have both of her parents, even if she was still incredibly angry with her father. “You were born here then, in Myrtell?” she asked.
Garon shook his head against the fur bed covering. “My grandfather and my mother—his daughter—both worked as servants in a large fortress far away, somewhere west of here. The man they worked for is my father, although not by my mother’s choice. He raped her.”
54
Carnal Sacrifice
Laela gasped. Rape? It was a crime perpetrated by such as the Virgs, but in Caralon itself, the offense was rare. Except for royal daughters and a few other wealthy girls with a bride price, sex was a common, accepted way to entertain one’s self, a celebrated pastime that all shared with equal joy, and she knew, just from her knowledge of their society, that finding a willing partner was not difficult. Rape was an act committed by only the most violent of men.
Garon seemed to read her thoughts. “The fortress was isolated. Not many young women worth fucking, I presume,” he said coldly. Yet his voice came steady, and she knew he’d accepted this harsh reality of his life long ago. “After my mother’s death, my grandfather stole me away and brought me here. There, I could have been a wealthy landowner with a fortress of my own someday—probably by now—but Ares only knows what sort of existence I’d have had to endure. My grandfather felt a chance at a happy life for me was worth the sacrifice.”
She summoned a soft smile. “And are you happy?”
He met her gaze in the dim lighting. “Mostly, I suppose. When my grandfather died, he’d saved enough for me to open the tavern. So I have more than many in Myrtell—something to call my own. I have food to eat and ale to drink, and earnings saved should I ever need them. I have a soft bed, and enough women to warm it. You to warm it, just now,” he added, reaching to press his hand across her bare belly. “And he left me other things, too. Not things that can be measured, but…”
“What?” she asked when he trailed off.
“He taught me things. He gave me an education.”
She couldn’t help being curious what he meant exactly. “What did he teach you?”
His eyes softened. “He read. And he taught me to read, too.”
She smiled at his pride in his grandfather, knowing that, in Caralon, many did not have the opportunity to learn the ancient written language. “My father’s fortress possessed a large library stacked to the ceiling with old, valuable volumes from the Before Times.”
She rolled on her side to face him. “Really? They must have been extremely
valuable.”
He nodded. “And yet there they all were, tucked away in a fort in the middle of nowhere, gathering dust. The master of the fortress didn’t even read them. As far as my grandfather knew, they were left behind by his parents, and only my grandfather ever set foot in the chamber.” Then he grinned. “He used to sneak in late every night to read. Read almost the whole library, he said. And he told me stories from the volumes, and taught me everything he could remember learning from them.”
It gave her chills to think of such treasures going unappreciated. Enrick, too, owned a library, but even the Ruler of Caralon’s collection was small, containing only a few fragile volumes from the Before Times. “ My father’s library,” she said, feeling giddy at the sudden memory, “had a favorite volume I learned from as a little girl. It was a book of primeval tales, and my favorite of them featured what, in the Before Times, was
55
Lacey
Garon nodded. “My mother died during childbirth, so he raised me.”
So much death in the lives of these men. It made her feel fortunate to have both of her parents, even if she was still incredibly angry with her father. “You were born here then, in Myrtell?” she asked.
Garon shook his head against the fur bed covering. “My grandfather and my mother—his daughter—both worked as servants in a large fortress far away, somewhere west of here. The man they worked for is my father, although not by my mother’s choice. He raped her.”
54
Carnal Sacrifice
Laela gasped. Rape? It was a crime perpetrated by such as the Virgs, but in Caralon itself, the offense was rare. Except for royal daughters and a few other wealthy girls with a bride price, sex was a common, accepted way to entertain one’s self, a celebrated pastime that all shared with equal joy, and she knew, just from her knowledge of their society, that finding a willing partner was not difficult. Rape was an act committed by only the most violent of men.
Garon seemed to read her thoughts. “The fortress was isolated. Not many young women worth fucking, I presume,” he said coldly. Yet his voice came steady, and she knew he’d accepted this harsh reality of his life long ago. “After my mother’s death, my grandfather stole me away and brought me here. There, I could have been a wealthy landowner with a fortress of my own someday—probably by now—but Ares only knows what sort of existence I’d have had to endure. My grandfather felt a chance at a happy life for me was worth the sacrifice.”
She summoned a soft smile. “And are you happy?”
He met her gaze in the dim lighting. “Mostly, I suppose. When my grandfather died, he’d saved enough for me to open the tavern. So I have more than many in Myrtell—something to call my own. I have food to eat and ale to drink, and earnings saved should I ever need them. I have a soft bed, and enough women to warm it. You to warm it, just now,” he added, reaching to press his hand across her bare belly. “And he left me other things, too. Not things that can be measured, but…”
“What?” she asked when he trailed off.
“He taught me things. He gave me an education.”
She couldn’t help being curious what he meant exactly. “What did he teach you?”
His eyes softened. “He read. And he taught me to read, too.”
She smiled at his pride in his grandfather, knowing that, in Caralon, many did not have the opportunity to learn the ancient written language. “My father’s fortress possessed a large library stacked to the ceiling with old, valuable volumes from the Before Times.”
She rolled on her side to face him. “Really? They must have been extremely
valuable.”
He nodded. “And yet there they all were, tucked away in a fort in the middle of nowhere, gathering dust. The master of the fortress didn’t even read them. As far as my grandfather knew, they were left behind by his parents, and only my grandfather ever set foot in the chamber.” Then he grinned. “He used to sneak in late every night to read. Read almost the whole library, he said. And he told me stories from the volumes, and taught me everything he could remember learning from them.”
It gave her chills to think of such treasures going unappreciated. Enrick, too, owned a library, but even the Ruler of Caralon’s collection was small, containing only a few fragile volumes from the Before Times. “ My father’s library,” she said, feeling giddy at the sudden memory, “had a favorite volume I learned from as a little girl. It was a book of primeval tales, and my favorite of them featured what, in the Before Times, was
55
Lacey
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