"I gave my oath," he reminded her. "No harm to you."

"But-"

"I was cutting bread for you."

"But the sacrifice-"

"My oath," he repeated. "By the Holy Virgin. You can trust that."

"Yes," she agreed dubiously.

"I am going to cut you a slice of bread," he said carefully. "Or you may do it yourself, if you prefer."

"No . . ." she said, evidently afraid that the knife would turn in her hand and seek her innocent blood.

Parry picked up the knife, slowly, and oriented on the hard loaf. He sawed through it, severing a thick slice, and set down the knife.

Jolie's eyes remained locked on the knife throughout. She relaxed only when it left his hand.

"Would you like butter on it?" he inquired. "Or jam?"

"Oh, my lord ..." she demurred.

"I am no lord," he repeated firmly. "Call me Parry."

"Oh, I could not!" Parry smiled, a trifle grimly. "Call me Parry," he said, touching the knife.

"Parry!" she cried, shrinking into her dress.

"That's better," he said. "You know I am only a year older than you. I see you as an equal."

"But you are the Sorcerer's son!"

"Butter or jam?" he asked. "Or both?"

"For me?" She simply could not believe.

"For you. I will have a separate slice. Here, I will cut it now." He picked up the knife.

Again her eyes locked on it, and her breath became shallow. It was as though he were torturing the loaf.

"I will put the knife away," he said as he finished. He earned it back to the pantry and set it behind the curtain, safely out of sight. Only then did the girl's breathing revert to normal.

He used a wooden spatula to spread butter generously on both slices of the coarse black bread, then poured jam on each. He picked up the slices and walked to her, proffering one. "For you," he repeated. "I will sit on the other side of the fire and eat my own."

Hesitantly, her tiny hand came up, as if ready to dart away at the first sign of menace. Her whole arm was shaking. He set the bread firmly in it, then took his place on the other side as promised.

He had been uncertain how to proceed, but now he felt more confident. "Jolie, I would like you to understand me. May I tell you my story?"

"Yes, lord," she said. Then, as his glance went to the table where the knife had lain, "Parry!"

He smiled. "You learn quickly, Jolie. That is one of two reasons I asked for you."

"You gave your oath!" she cried.

"I asked only for your company this evening. Your father owed my father, and this is the manner of the payment: your visit here. After this you will be free; we shall never require this of you again."

"Oh, please-I never harmed you!"