Three days Katie, laid in bed for three days crying, remembering, why did she have to say anything? Three men on horses, two of them in Leather another in chainmail? Them wanting to camp in the field, the flower field she was responsible for, caring for the flowers making sure they came back each year. Now these men were digging a firepit in her field, well her master’s field, but in her heart her field.

“Stop!” She ran, “What are you doing?”

One of the men looked at her and dismissed her.

She grabbed the man’s arm that held the shovel. She was thrown off him with no effort, she and her flower basket went flying separate directions. The man with the shovel went back to what he we doing, the man with the horses continued brushing them down, three horses, two men, this thought should have caused her pause, but all that she could think about was the flowers. Then she heard the third man come up from behind her, the rattling of chainmail made his presence known.

“Well, Well, Well, it looks like we are going to have some entertainment tonight after all.”

That phrase should have chilled her, but it didn’t she didn’t know any better, she knew now.

The man with the horses looked up, “yes my lord, she tried to stop us from camping in this field.”

“Did she now?”

“She tried to stop Robert from digging the firepit:

“Did she now?”

The man with the shovel just grunted while finishing the firepit.

“Yes, ma’ lord”

The lord dropped a deer off his shoulders, it had been bled and field dressed in front of me.

“You girl, since you are putting yourself in my business you can make us dinner.”

“You can’t, you can’t camp here, the fi-”

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“Can’t?” He picked me up by the neck and back handed me across the face, “You girl do not get to tell me what I can and cannot not do. Now make dinner” He dropped me at that point. I should have run at that point but I did not.

The man with the shovel said, “look She brought us kindling,” Afraid to look she did anyways the flowers that she had spent all day picking.

The man that was taking care of the horses dropped a pan and cooking equipment in front of her. She made the men their meal and hoped she would be allowed to leave.

The lord having finished with his meal said, “Now girl you tried to stop me and my men, the meal you made was barely passable, but what do you expect from a peasant?” He looked over her shoulder to one of the men, “Go get it, it looks like we are going to start early”

“Yes, ma’ lord”

“What’s going on?” I tried to ask, when I felt myself being grabbed from behind.

“You my dear have caught my attention, so we are going to mark you for the temple of Inanna.”

“It’s almost ready ma’ lord.”

“Good I am going to tell her what she is going to say in the future.” Looking back at me he said, “If anyone asks you were released from prison when you offered to become a priestess of Inanna.

“You mean a whore?” I said, and was slapped again for my troubles.

“No, a priestess for the Goddess of Inanna, you will offer succor for the soldiers, but if you want to be a whore, we can make that happen too.”

“It’s ready ma’ lord.”

“Good, pass it to me and hold her down.”

I felt both my arms being pinned to the ground I closed my eyes struggling then I heard my dress being ripped the breeze on my chest and then the burning pain blessedly I passed out, the next in knew was the smell of smoke and flowers and the heavy breathing of Mr. Soper. Him saying, “I am sorry this happened to you, it’s going to be ok, you are strong you will get through this” then I passed, out only to wake up in my bed, being sore all over. What feels like years but I know it was only days, I have not left my room barely my bed, I need to tend the flowers, but not Mr. Soper is doing that now. The orders are going to start piling up soon. Having been apprenticed as a soapier for more then three years now, I know my way around the ash and fat and scent, Mr. Soper told me last week I was ready to start making soaps on my own that I can start selling. So, I went to the drying room to see what was ready and got the fire started to render the fat and extract the lye from the ash. That was a week ago now, it was seventh day-her day off-Mr. Soper had been at home every night letting her know he was there to listen or talk if she needed, He held her when she needed him to and stayed away when she needed that, Mr. Soper was the father she never had. Things were not the way they were supposed to be, things that were supposed to happen have not come yet, she did not want to leave the house never again, but she needed to today was market day as well, but she needed to go visit someone else first.

With a basket of her own soaps in hand and a shawl covering most of her bruises she went out.