Helena watched the servants finish packing her things. On the morrow, she would begin a journey with her parents to meet and marry her husband-to-be. As a woman, she of course had no say in whom she married, but she trusted her father's judgment, and was certain he had made an excellent choice. The man she was to marry was an extremely wealthy duke, highly noted throughout the country. Often, Lord Gustavo had fought in wars for the king of the land, and always turned out victorious. Helena considered herself very lucky to have him as a bridegroom.
She was known as one of the most beautiful women in the country, and many men wished to have her as their own. She was not ignorant of this, and often used it to her advantage. With long, curled golden hair and sparkling blue-gray eyes, she flaunted her looks as much as possible. Of course, as she was about to be a married woman, she stopped doing so. Teasing men suddenly no longer pleased her, though she was still a virgin, and with her lineage, no one would touch her without permission. But no matter how modestly she dressed, her pert breasts always tantalized the men in her company, and her small frame begged to be touched and pleasured. However, she was a Christian in this modern sixteenth century, and while some women gave themselves willingly to men, she had preserved herself for marriage.
The road to Boccai was long. Her father wished to go by sea, but her mother insisted on the longer, more dangerous route by land. Helena would have liked to go by water, but the ocean made her sick, and so she agreed with he mother that they should travel by carriage, not ship. Had the women known that the journey would have turned out disastrous, they would gladly have agreed to water passage.
After three days of riding, and only a day away from their destination, they reached an ominous looking forest. Sir Adan, Helena's father, was persistent in their cutting across it. It would save them an extra day's travel, he argued. The women, being mere women, had no say in the matter, but closely followed Adan towards their destination. Three-quarters of the way through, a man appeared. "Who are you," Sir Adan demanded, sword drawn.
"Jus' a poor traveling bard," said the poor, traveling bard. Indeed he looked like a bard, with a lap harp slung over one shoulder and a small bag of possessions in hand. "I can play ye a song, if ye'd like," he added.
The bridal party relented; he appeared harmless. He struck a chord, a most terrible sound, and began to sing off-key. "You are no bard!" cried Adan.
At that, a group of bandits jumped out of the forest. They brandished knives and swords, outnumbering Adan and his men. Frightened, Helena fled, running in the direction the group had been heading. Her mother could not move. At the edge of the wood, the girl found a large bush that she hid behind. The bandits had been so preoccupied with fighting her father's men, they failed to notice her escape. She managed to take with her a small parcel, hoping it contained food and drink. Sliding to the ground behind the bush, she gasped for air. When several hours passed, Helena at last dared to peer out from her hiding place. She heard nothing but birds and the breeze in the branches above her head. The only sight that greeted her was the brown and green foliage of late August. The sun was approaching the horizon, and she began to grow hungry. She slipped the crude string from around her parcel, and opened it, praying for food.
Instead, she was greeted with the clothing of a boy's; it belonged to the squire of a knight in their company. She grimaced, and her stomach did, too. It fell silent just in time, for voices could be heard approaching. "Well, they are all dead."
"All dead? I thought there was a girl with 'em. We ought to find her afore she squeals on us."
The "bard" and another of his men were walking down the path. From their conversation, she could tell they had succeeded in killing her entourage. She stayed silent, for they made plans to kill her, too. It would be very easy to find her, being a woman and alone, they figured. After they moved on, Helena sat thinking. She was not stupid as most women were at the time, and so she donned the squire's tunic and breeches, leaving her elegant gown and underthings in the forest. Her breasts were just small enough that she could lace her own corset, so she made sure the laces were tight enough to keep them flat. This was not terribly difficult, as minimizing the breasts and accentuating the hips was the fashion of the day, and exactly what the corset was designed to do. Finally, she arranged her hair into a queue. As a finishing touch, she stuffed a handkerchief in the breeches, emulating a man's bulge, and was fairly satisfied that she could pass as a young boy. She then set out for the town overlooked by the wood. A large manor house was the first building she encountered, besides elaborate stables, and so she knocked on the large, oak door. A man cracked it open. "What?" he said with a scowl.
"I-I'm looking for the city of Boccai," she said nervously.
"Well, you've found it!" he exclaimed, and motioned to close the door.
"Wait! Can you tell me, then, where I might find Lord Gustavo di Boccai?"
The servant opened the door wider. "You seem to be a good guesser, boy. You've found his manor, as well."
He dragged her into the exquisite hall, and towards a sitting room. She followed nervously, but glad that her disguise seemed to be working. At least, in the post-sunset light, and candlelight of the manor, it worked. What full daylight would brings, she did not know. In the sitting room a fire blazed in the fireplace. A regal man sat in one of the few chairs in the room. As one who had been used to servants and slaves, Helena knew how to act as though she were an inferior. "My Lord," she bowed.
"Rise," said the man in the chair. She lifted her head, keeping her back bent in the bow. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
"My Lord." She took a deep breath, and then lowered her eyes. "I come from Sir Adan. He, and everyone traveling with him were mercilessly slaughtered in the forest today by bandits-I am the only one left alive."
There was an uncomfortable silence. The man, Gustavo, studied Helena. The dim light offered all the protection she could hope for. His face grim, he continued to question her. "What is your name, boy?"
"I'm, um, Henri," she said.
"Well, Henri, I must ask why you did not perish with your Master."
She had not anticipated this sort of question, so she told the truth. "I was frightened, and I ran, My Lord."
"That is very unbecoming of a male. Why, child, did you not stay to help your Master?"
"I…um…well, I am only a simple servant, My Lord. I did not know what to do, and I though I would, uh, try to find help."
Her answers seemed to satisfy him, so far. "And my bride? She is dead, too?"
Helena looked up, startled. This motion seemed to annoy Gustavo, and she quickly looked at the stone flooring. "I am sorry, My Lord." She said no more, but was very impressed that he would think of a woman when her father lay dead somewhere in a forest. As far as she could tell, he was an incredibly handsome man, but as a serving boy, and one who had abandoned his master in a time of need, she felt she was not permitted to look directly at him.
Gustavo was a fair man by anyone's standards, though very militant. He expected everything to be scheduled perfectly, his troops to be in exact formation, and everything in his life was symmetrical. Because of the ordered style his father had trained him with, he was a man who was in control. This little Italian boy seemed honest, but it irked him that such a beautiful woman as Helena was rumored to be now lay dead, and he was alive. "Well, Henri. I shall have to make a deal with you. As you have abandoned your Master and Mistresses to be killed by rogues, you should not go unpunished. You also, it would seem, have no place to stay. As punishment for loosing so many precious lives, you shall be my personal slave. Is that agreed?"
Helena had a strong urge to reveal her true self, but with the bandits on the lookout for her, she did not feel safe in doing so. Besides, she had already fooled him into thinking she was male, and she did not think he would take kindly to such a trick. At least as the Duke's personal slave, she would always be in his protection, should they come after her. He had mentioned that she had no place to stay, which was also true. Before she could answer, Gustavo said, "I assure you that if you go out there alone," he gestured toward a window to emphasize his point, "slavers will capture you anyway, and you will not be treated nearly as well as you will be treated here."
If Helena had any remaining doubts, they were gone. "Yes, sir. I agree with your conditions."
"Good. Now come; your first lesson will be in attending me until I have fallen asleep."
She followed behind Gustavo through the hallways of the manor to his luxurious chambers. There was a large bed in the middle of the room, standing on a high dais. An ornate bureau stood to the side, and in a corner was a scribe's table and heavy chair. There was an adjacent room with a carved, wooden tub. She did not wish to look behind the door. She was instructed to undress the Duke and help him into a nightgown. Never having seen a man nude before, Helena did her best not to stare. She had heard about the things men and women did together, of course, but she did not expect a man's…member…to be so large. Gustavo watched her. "What are you looking at, boy?" he teased.
"I-I am sorry, milord," she blushed and looked at her hands. He did not reply.
Next, Helena was instructed to turn down the fine-woven sheets on the bed. She did so with shaking hands, and watched as the duke climbed in. She tucked the bedclothes around his body and moved to the foot of the bed, where a pallet lay for her to sleep on. The straw mat was less comfortable than she was used to, though better than she would normally have expected. With only the fire crackling, she fell asleep before the Duke.
Fortunately, Helena woke before he did, too. She crept off of her mattress to the east-facing window. Tendrils of light began to fill the sky, and she loathed leaving the glorious sight. But behind her, the duke called for attendance. "Henri, come here!"
She slowly moved to him, feeling that her situation was a bit ironic. She dressed Gustavo in his daily outfit and made the bed. Following him to the dining hall, she found herself expected to wait behind him, pouring wine when he demanded and ensure that his plate was piled with food until he finished. She had not eaten since dinner the day before, and was hungry. But Helena had been around slaves, and they did not ask to eat; those that did were flogged. She stood behind her lord's chair, and when he was done, he let her go into the kitchen and eat what was left on his plate only. After that, she knew to keep his dish filled always with food, for that was all she was ever allotted.
