pot, one bowl, two spoons, and one knife; a honestone; two shirts and one wool tunic; a wool cloak lined with rabbit's fur; a bronze brooch; leggings, boots; a bed, a table, a bench, a shelf, and a copper basin; two wool blankets; half a barrel of ale, honey, smoked meat, and three soapstone vessels, one filled with salt and two with ground wheat; two hens; two pigs; and one daughter.
"Aged fifteen," Liudolf finished.
"I turned sixteen four days ago, on Mariansmass."
"Did you?" Liudolf asked with interest. "That changes the auction, then. There can be no question of a bond price. As a legal adult, you assume all of your father's debts. Unless there is some other living relative?"
"None that I know of."
He sighed and nodded. "Then whoever assumes your debt will buy your freedom with it."
"There were books," she said quickly, not looking at Hugh. "My Da had four books and a ..." Here she must be circumspect. "And a brass instrument for telling the time."
"Those items have been confiscated by the church." "But they would bring enough to pay Da's debts!" "I'm sorry, child." He said it firmly. She knew at once there was no point in arguing. Why should he listen to her, a kinless girl with no possessions and no one to protect her? "Here, you must mark the page where this is all written, to show that I've tallied it out correctly, so far as you know."
She took the pen and balanced the open book in her left hand. Hugh watched her avidly, but she carefully drew an awkward 'X' below the last bit of writing. She handed the book back to the marshal, and he clucked under his breath, looking truly sorry for her plight, sighed again, and scratched at his hair.
"It will be the auction tomorrow, child." Liudolf glanced at Hugh, knowing as well as Liath did that the frater was the only person able to buy off the entire price —especially now that he had also taken the books. Or at least, Hugh was the only person who might want to buy her. Old Count Harl had the wherewithal, and he even had a few slaves, but he had never interested himself in the affairs of the village except to hire Hanna's mother as a wet nurse for his children.
"Begging your pardon, Frater, Marshal," said a woman from behind them. "May I come in now?"
"Of course, of course. We're finished here." Liudolf retreated. Hugh glared at Liath, not moving. "Frater,"
s aid Liudolf mildly. "We've business to finish before tomorrow, have we not?"
"I'll have that book," muttered Hugh. He left, taking the candle with him.
Mistress Birta came forward out of the gloom, holding a pitcher and a small package wrapped in cloth. "Here, Liath. I heard you had no food nor drink at all yesterday."
"I had a little wine." Liath took the pitcher. Her hands shook as she set it down on the floor, and she unwrapped the cloth to find a loaf of bread and a square of goat's cheese. "Oh, bless you, Mistress Birta. I'm so hungry. I didn't know it until now."
Mistress Birta glanced behind. The two men stood in the dank corridor, waiting for her. "I'll see that you've food in the morning, too." She raised her voice slightly. Daringly, Liath thought. "It isn't right to keep you hungry, no matter your circumstances." Taking a step closer to Liath, she dropped her voice to a whisper. "If we could have, child, we would have made the bond price at least, and treated you well. But custom has been off this year, and with Inga's wedding feast last autumn . . ."
"No, please, Mistress," Liath said hastily, embarrassed. "I know you did all you could. But Da never had any head for what it cost him —" She broke off, aware of the silence from the corridor, of Hugh listening avidly to every least word she said. "To live as he wished. He loved it here and had many a good evening at the inn gossiping with your husband."
"Yes, child," said Birta briskly, taking Liath's cue. "I'll leave you now. They wouldn't let me bring a blanket, but I trust to the Lady and Lord that it will stay warm tonight." She kissed
"Aged fifteen," Liudolf finished.
"I turned sixteen four days ago, on Mariansmass."
"Did you?" Liudolf asked with interest. "That changes the auction, then. There can be no question of a bond price. As a legal adult, you assume all of your father's debts. Unless there is some other living relative?"
"None that I know of."
He sighed and nodded. "Then whoever assumes your debt will buy your freedom with it."
"There were books," she said quickly, not looking at Hugh. "My Da had four books and a ..." Here she must be circumspect. "And a brass instrument for telling the time."
"Those items have been confiscated by the church." "But they would bring enough to pay Da's debts!" "I'm sorry, child." He said it firmly. She knew at once there was no point in arguing. Why should he listen to her, a kinless girl with no possessions and no one to protect her? "Here, you must mark the page where this is all written, to show that I've tallied it out correctly, so far as you know."
She took the pen and balanced the open book in her left hand. Hugh watched her avidly, but she carefully drew an awkward 'X' below the last bit of writing. She handed the book back to the marshal, and he clucked under his breath, looking truly sorry for her plight, sighed again, and scratched at his hair.
"It will be the auction tomorrow, child." Liudolf glanced at Hugh, knowing as well as Liath did that the frater was the only person able to buy off the entire price —especially now that he had also taken the books. Or at least, Hugh was the only person who might want to buy her. Old Count Harl had the wherewithal, and he even had a few slaves, but he had never interested himself in the affairs of the village except to hire Hanna's mother as a wet nurse for his children.
"Begging your pardon, Frater, Marshal," said a woman from behind them. "May I come in now?"
"Of course, of course. We're finished here." Liudolf retreated. Hugh glared at Liath, not moving. "Frater,"
s aid Liudolf mildly. "We've business to finish before tomorrow, have we not?"
"I'll have that book," muttered Hugh. He left, taking the candle with him.
Mistress Birta came forward out of the gloom, holding a pitcher and a small package wrapped in cloth. "Here, Liath. I heard you had no food nor drink at all yesterday."
"I had a little wine." Liath took the pitcher. Her hands shook as she set it down on the floor, and she unwrapped the cloth to find a loaf of bread and a square of goat's cheese. "Oh, bless you, Mistress Birta. I'm so hungry. I didn't know it until now."
Mistress Birta glanced behind. The two men stood in the dank corridor, waiting for her. "I'll see that you've food in the morning, too." She raised her voice slightly. Daringly, Liath thought. "It isn't right to keep you hungry, no matter your circumstances." Taking a step closer to Liath, she dropped her voice to a whisper. "If we could have, child, we would have made the bond price at least, and treated you well. But custom has been off this year, and with Inga's wedding feast last autumn . . ."
"No, please, Mistress," Liath said hastily, embarrassed. "I know you did all you could. But Da never had any head for what it cost him —" She broke off, aware of the silence from the corridor, of Hugh listening avidly to every least word she said. "To live as he wished. He loved it here and had many a good evening at the inn gossiping with your husband."
"Yes, child," said Birta briskly, taking Liath's cue. "I'll leave you now. They wouldn't let me bring a blanket, but I trust to the Lady and Lord that it will stay warm tonight." She kissed
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