Lara by Bertrice Small Page A

his words. But she said nothing, and he, foolish man, did not know what he had done. I did, though. I knew that the day she left her comfortable farmhouse to live in a mercenary’s hovel in the City, she would never return. She was mistress of that great farmhouse. Dorjan’s wife was a meek creature who harbored all manner of resentments, but was lazy. She might be annoyed having her mother-in-law as mistress of the house, but my mother kept that house in perfect order. I can but imagine what happened when your grandmother left them to come to the City.” He chuckled. “Dorjan’s wife was no housekeeper.”
    “So you came to the City and joined the Mercenary Guild,” Lara said. “How did you become so proficient with the sword?”
    “A young fellow joining the guild is sent to training school, which is one reason I couldn’t send for you as quickly as I would have wanted,” John explained. “The old swordmaster running the school saw I had a knack for the sword for I had begun to learn its use from a retired mercenary at home. The swordmaster drilled me mercilessly in its proper use. He had been famous in his day. When I finally beat him in a mock combat he said he could teach me no more, that I was better than he had ever been. It was quite a compliment.
    “On his recommendation I was hired to fight in several small wars between local bandits and the Province rulers. My reputation grew. I have escorted caravans of Taubyl Traders from the City into all the other provinces, for once I gained my reputation as a ruthless warrior few would take me on. I know how to impose Hetarian order, Lara. As a society we cannot allow discord to disrupt our lives.”
    “Why did my uncle not come when grandmother died?” Lara asked.
    “My brother is a stubborn man, daughter,” John Swiftsword said. “He never forgave her for leaving him, for leaving his house. For a time she kept in touch with old friends in the Midlands, but eventually there was no point in it. He always blamed me for stealing her from him. He said I brought back faerie magic with me, and used it against him. It was never true, of course.”
    “Did you ever see Ilona again?” Lara asked her father.
    “Once,” he replied. “When I came to take you and my mother to the City I went first to the edge of the woodland and called her. I was not certain at all she would appear, but to my surprise she did. I told her what had happened, and how I was now a mercenary, and would be taking you into the City.”
    “Did she ask about me?” Lara wondered hopefully.
    Her father shook his head. “She gave you life, child, and for her it was enough. I told her how you possessed her beauty, and she smiled for she always enjoyed a compliment. I told her I would probably not see her again, and she laughed. That is up to me, she said. I might marry, I replied. Do not, she said, ever discuss our love, or our time together with another woman you love but for our daughter. If she asks you one day, you may tell her of me, and our life that year. But no other, or bad fortune shall befall you. And then we parted, Lara. I have not seen her since. I have watched as you grew into her image, and sometimes it hurts me to look at you, for you are so like Ilona.”
    “Then it is a good thing I am going,” Lara responded softly. “You have been a good father to me, and I would not hurt you, Da. The world of the Crusader Knights is where you belong, and now you have entered it. Susanna is happy.” Lara giggled. “She told me she cannot wait to brag on your latest accomplishment to her sisters who were always mean to her, and mocked her for marrying a poor man. Perhaps in that way your own brother and his family will learn of it, too, and you will have a small revenge.”
    John Swiftsword chuckled. “That is something your mother would have said. She did not easily tolerate a fault she felt was directed at her.”
    “Is that all, Da?” Lara looked closely into her father’s