"Then the oddest thing developed," Parry said. "I turned out to have a talent for magic. It was as if God had chosen this way to provide the Sorcerer an heir that he would never have chosen for himself. The Abbot died when I was ten, and the Lord when I was twelve, but the need for any coercion had long since passed. My father now saw to my education and welfare with enthusiasm, and indeed, I have never wanted for either. I have long known the story of my adoption, and have no resentment on that account; I know that had I not been sold for sacrifice, I would now be a completely ignorant peasant, or perhaps dead of a fever. I believe He was Lead in his mercy and discretion did intervene to make of my life what it could be. I was never in danger of death from the knife; God knew that, if the others did not." He smiled again. "But you may be sure that when I pick up a knife, it is to cut bread, and not to harm a visitor. Do you believe that now, Jolie?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Will you have some milk? I have plenty."

She nodded mutely, seeming afraid to speak such greed aloud. He got up and went to the table and poured a mugful. He brought it to her.

She took it, and sipped it carefully. He knew she was honoring his cautions, which she took to be meaningless; but he knew also that she was far more likely to keep the food down if she went slowly. She was a typical peasant girl in that she had seldom if ever been properly fed.

"And so I learned the disciplines of law and medicine and magic," Parry said. "Also combat-and the arts. The art of communication among them. I doubt you have had much difficulty understanding me."

She nodded, her smile coming more freely now.

"But I suspect you are wondering why I asked for you."

The fear flared up again, and the remaining milk slopped in the mug. "I have done you no harm!"

"And I shall do you no harm," he replied automatically. "I am fifteen years old now, and in good health. I am becoming a man. That means I am ready for a woman."

Now the milk slopped over the brim. "Oh, please, lord-"

"Surely you know that my father would have brought me any woman I wished," he said.

She nodded, her hands still shaking.

"Obviously I asked for you. Why do you think I should want an illiterate peasant girl one year my junior?"

Her breathing was becoming labored. "Oh, please-"

"Stop that!" he snapped. "Answer the question."

She took a shuddering breath. "Be-because I am the only virgin without disease in the village."

"No."

"But it is true, lord! No man has touched me."

"I know it is true, but that is not why I asked for you. Try again."