uld help her sleep.

She heard men's voices, loud and rough, in other parts of the house. A
man laughed, and then a woman laughed. How many men had come with the
Tartar? She felt too tired even to crawl to the edge of the bed and pour
herself the wine. She picked up the money and pushed it under a pillow.
Perhaps Tilia had not seen him give it to her. She had done this for
money, and she ought to get as much as she could for it.

The door swung open and Tilia was standing there, her wide mouth
stretched in a broad smile, and her hands rose in benediction. "You were
just what he wanted. He seemed most pleased."

Rachel tried to smile. "It was not as bad as I thought it would be."

Tilia shrugged. "Men who are terrible in warfare are sometimes kinder in
bed. I thought his zipolo rather small, did you not? That was lucky for
you."

Rachel felt her face grow hot. "I have seen only one other--when it was
hard like that. And it _was_ bigger."

"Well," said Tilia, "small as this Tartar was, he was able to mount you
twice, and that is remarkable for a white-haired man who has been up
drinking all night." Then she laughed. "Ah, but you should have seen the
French cardinal who came here with this Tartar. He asked for three
women, and he swived each one of them mightily. Those French! I care not
for their high-horse airs, but they are a lusty lot."

Rachel felt herself smiling. Was it so easy to begin to think like a
whore and laugh at whores' jokes?

"Well," said Tilia, "we must get you washed out at once. You do not want
to be giving birth to a little Tartar in your first year as a woman, do
you?" She went to a cabinet and drew out a grayish-white bladder with a
tube coiled beside it.

"Peculiar-looking if you have never seen one before," said Tilia. "But
there is nothing to worry about. It does not hurt. We just fill the
pig's stomach with warm water and squeeze it, and the water goes through
the vellum tube and up inside you. The women of Rome used them centuries
ago when they did not want to get pregnant. I suppose that is why the
barbarians finally overran Italy."

Rachel looked at the thing Tilia laid on the bed beside her and felt
sick.

"Oh, by the way," said Tilia as she went back to the cabinet and got out
a basin and a pitcher, "I will let you keep the purse he gave you. He
looked so happy when he left here, I think you deserve it."

The Tartar could come and go as he pleased, thought Rachel, but she must