“Why would the men who play parts on the stage ‘parade’?” Gar countered. “Or do you think they do it to attract women to buy their favors?”
“Well, of course not! For a man, it’s different!”
“But this woman, and all her friends, have only the same reason as the men,” Gar explained, quite reasonably, “to present a story for your entertainment, and the money they gain is only that which comes at the gate.”
The man glared up at him. “Do you mean to tell me none of these women sell their favors?”
“I’ve never seen them do so.” Gar didn’t mention that he had been with the troupe only a few days. “Better to ask yourself how many women of the common people do go willingly to the bed of a man not their husband.”
“Why … they seem willing enough when I ask them.”
“Willing?” Gar said skeptically. “Or scared to refuse?” The man straightened, throwing his shoulders back.
“Look at me, fellow! What woman would not wish to bed me?”
“Any who wasn’t in love with you,” Gar returned straightaway, “and if you deceive yourself into thinking that they choose to go with a total stranger out of sheer desire, you deceive yourself indeed. Any woman who makes so free with her body does so out of fear or hunger, or both.”
The young blood glared in indignation. “Do you say that I am not a fine figure of a man? And with a handsome face, too!”
“I wouldn’t know,” Gar said. “I’m not a woman. But I do know that no matter how attractive a man is, a woman must be wooed for a few days—or weeks, or months—before she desires to share his bed.”
The young man frowned, peering more closely. “You don’t sound like a man common-born. What are you?” Gar gave him a sardonic smile and, in a tone that gave the lie to his words, said, “Come, now. Would a lord, or even a knight, travel with a band of players?” He stared directly into the young man’s eyes.
The young man returned the gaze, holding it level as he said, “No,” and, “Of course not.”
Coll heard the words, but also the tone, and knew that Gar had confirmed the young nobleman’s guess, and the young nobleman had accepted the knowledge as a secret that would be kept.
There was a new tone of respect in the young man’s voice as he said, “I am Dandre, heir to the Earl of Mauplasir. And you, sir?”
“Gar,” the giant told him, “just Gar. How do you think of your serfs, my lord—as people to be protected, or worldly goods for your own pleasure and amusement?”
“People to be protected, of course!” Lord Dandre said in indignation. “Certainly they must do their work, but it is the lord’s obligation to protect and care for them!”
Gar nodded. “And serfs who are not your own?”
“Why, you treat them with the respect you would show to any other kind of property belonging to another lord…” His gaze strayed to Ciare, who clung to Coll, watching with apprehension. “Do you say that I have broken my own code?”
“You have, though I suspect you had no idea you were doing so. You assumed that because the lass was a player, she would be eager for any lord’s attention—but if she had been a serf on your own estates, you would not have assumed so.”
“Not the one following the other as summer follows spring, no,” Lord Dandre said slowly, “though there are surely serf girls aplenty to vie for a lord’s favors. Still, I have never pursued one who did not make it clear that she wanted me to do so.” His face firmed; he turned to Ciare, sweeping off his hat in a bow. “Your pardon, lass. I mistook.”
“Certainly, my lord,” Ciare answered, wide-eyed. “I thank you.” She glanced at Gar as though to wonder what wizardry he had performed. So did the young man’s companions, though they, too, had begun to look rather thoughtful.
“You are knights,” Gar pointed out. “What did you swear to do when you were knighted?”
Lord Dandre frowned. “Why, to protect the Church and to fight for the Right, but there’s never much need for that.”
“And to defend the weak?”
“Yes, and the honor of ladies, especially…” Dandre’s voice ran down as he glanced again at Ciare. “But she is a woman, not a lady!”
“Is it only the wellborn, then, that you’re supposed to defend?”
Lord Dandre looked at Ciare in consternation, and his friends began to mutter darkly to one another.
“Perhaps you think that women of the common people can protect themselves,” Gar said, “but think—you’re also supposed to protect the poor, and the weaker from the stronger. What is a commoner woman but just such a weaker? And these players, I assure you, may be numbered among the poor.”
The backup group quieted, frowning at Gar.
“You mean, then, that I should certainly defend all women,” Lord Dandre said quietly, “not ladies only.”
Gar nodded. “If not because they’re ladies, then because they’re poor.”
“And that I should defend the weaker, herself, against the stronger—myself.” Lord Dandre’s smile was tight with self-contempt.
“You have named it, my lord. Oh, I have seen soldiers bring a virgin kicking and screaming to their lord, for no better reason than that she was a serf, and pretty. To do them justice, young men of our—your—class are taught that all serf women are eager to leap into bed with them, if only for the money which will be sent them if they prove by child. But that is simply and plainly not true; it is a fable handed down from father to son, when neither ever asked the women themselves.”
“Why, then, how could we know the truth?” the young man exclaimed with anger. “But if it is as you say, then my misguided notions nearly led me into virtual rape!”
“There is no ‘virtual’ about it,” Gar said severely. “No means no, my lord, no matter of what class the woman may be. Even if ‘no’ means only that the woman isn’t sure she’s ready to say ‘yes,’ even if it means she is wanting to say yes and is almost willing to, it is still no.”
“ ‘Willing’ isn’t enough; the woman must be eager, or I am exploiting one weaker than myself.” Lord Dandre’s face was red with anger. “A pox upon the vile rumors that have ever led me to believe otherwise! I thank you, friend, for showing me this! I shall tell this truth to all who speak of it!”
“This isn’t the only untruth about their serfs that noblemen believe,” Gar assured him. “How many of the lords you know have serfs who are well housed and well fed, my lord?”
“Why, well enough, for serfs,” Lord Dandre said, surprised.
“Are they truly, my lord?”
Lord Dandre frowned again. “You must think otherwise, to ask me with such weight. Nay, friend, rest assured that from this day forth, I shall look more closely at the poor folk around me!”
“Thank you, my lord,” Gar said with a little bow. “I think you will be surprised at what you see.”
“Surprised or not, I shall thank you ever more! And if I find the poor folk to be as miserable as you say, I shall exhort all young lords to work to defend them!”
Gar looked down at the ground, pressing fingers over his lips, then looked up with a forced smile. “I am delighted to hear you speak so, my lord—but may I caution you not to be too outspoken on the issue? Indeed, I would enjoin you to be very careful to whom you speak about it.”
Dandre frowned. “Surely it cannot be so dangerous!”
“But it is. Think, my lord—by saying that lords are obliged to lessen the sufferings of the poor, you’re limiting the power of each lord to do as he pleases within his own demesne—and there are some lords who will not take kindly to any such limits, no matter who imposes them.” Lord Dandre stood gazing into his face for a minute or more, then abruptly nodded. “A wise caution. Again I thank you.” Then he turned to Ciare, doffing his hat. “Lass, again I ask your pardon!” Then he turned to his friends, clapping his hat back on his head. “Come! Let us go study the poor folk, and see how deep is the truth this stranger has told us!”