h one last, deep, shuddering sigh,
she rolled over to look at him. More smiles and nods from him. Yes, he
wanted to cheer her up. She sensed that he knew something about women,
and what he knew had come not just from rapes committed on the
battlefield. He must have a wife in the faraway land he came from, and
he must, long ago, have done to that wife what he had just done to
Rachel. More than one wife, she reminded herself, and more than one
deflowering, because according to Tilia, the Tartars took several wives,
as the Muslims did. He was probably a grandfather many times over back
in that land.

He stood beside the bed, fully dressed. He had even tucked back and
knotted his hair behind his head. His grin broadened when she looked at
him. Rachel had not seen a Jewish or a Christian man as old as John with
such good teeth.

He untied a small bag from his belt. He held it out to her. Should she
take it? Of course she should. Was not getting paid the whole point of
what she had just gone through? Was not money what her body was to be
traded for from now on?

"Thank you, Messer John," she said, and reached out her hand. But he
came closer and rubbed the soft leather of the bag against her cheeks,
to dry her tears. She understood what he was trying to tell her--that
this money should pay her for her pain. Being a pagan, he could not
understand the greater pain of her soul because she had sinned, because
she had shamed her family and dishonored herself forever.

_But I have no family--none living. That is why I am here._

John put the bag into her hand and closed her fingers over it, then
pushed her hand against her chest. The bag was very heavy for its small
size. He frowned, put his finger to his lips, and waved his hand. He was
trying to tell her, she thought, that this was a special present for
her, that she was not to tell Madama Tilia about it. He did not know
that Tilia had been watching everything they had done together.

He pressed the callused palm of his hand against her cheek and said
something, then turned and quickly walked out of the room.

And Rachel was alone with her desolation. She wanted to sleep. There
were no windows in this room, but it must have been morning by now. She
realized that she did not feel sleepy, although she was tired. She felt
a dull ache down inside herself, where he had broken the seal of her
virginity. The bag of money lay heavy in her lap. Perhaps if she drank
some wine it wo