"Because my father owed-"

"No! All the villagers owe the Sorcerer!"

She shrugged. "Then I do not know, Lord."

"Parry! Call me Parry! That's my name. I am low-born, like you."

"Parry," she agreed faintly.

"I asked for you because I want the best woman I can get, and you are that one."

Now she laughed. "You do ill to tease me so, lor-Parry."

"It is true that you are young, but so am I. You are potentially the smartest and the prettiest woman of the village. That is why-"

This time her laugh was wholehearted. "I am the thinnest and dumbest waif in the village!" she protested.

"How can you pretend otherwise?"

Parry leaned forward, leaching for her. She shrank away, but he persisted, catching hold of a hank of her hair at her shoulder. "Look at this," he said earnestly. "Goldenesses, like few known here in the south of France. Look at your face: perfect. Not even any scars from the pox."

"I have scars," she said, almost eageriy. "But they don't show."

"All you need is some feeding, and you will flesh out into sheer loveliness. You have the frame already; I can see it clearly."

She drew her dress more closely about her, fearing that her body showed. "You shouldn't look!"

"Figuratively, I mean. I have learned to see folk for what they are and for what they can be; my father taught me that. He had me look at the villagers whenever we were in the village, and choose the best woman. Had I chosen wrongly, he would have served me as I deserved for my error."

She was not persuaded, but she was flattered, and curious. "How would that be?"

"He would have delivered that wrong girl to me."

Again she laughed. "And so he did!"

"No. I have no doubt of this. You are the one."

Her doubt remained, but she was beginning to accept the fact that he believed. "What will you have of me, then?"

"Your love."

She looked stricken, having briefly dared hope for escape. "I dare not deny you. Parry."

"I said your love, not your body! I want you to love me."

"I fear you," she said. "Is that enough?"

"No. You must come to know me, and to love me."

She spread her hands slightly. "You promised never to summon me again, after this night."

"And I shall not! You must come only if you choose."

"If The Sorcerer chooses."

"No! It must be free. It shall be free."

"I do not understand you."