"Peter David - Sir Apropos 01 - Sir Apropos Of Nothing" - читать интересную книгу автора (David Peter)

M y mother needed money, for she supposedly knew immediately that she would be preparing for my
arrival. And she knew where her potential for earnings lay.
 You see, what I neglected to mention in my earlier narrative is that when she awoke that next,
sun-drenched morning, there was something of value upon her belly, in addition to something of value
(albeit questionable) within it. It was a handful of coins, glittering in the sunlight. The oh-so-generous
knights had left it there. Whether they intended it mockingly or sincerely, or whether they really gave it no
thought at all, it's difficult to say. It was far more for a night's work, though, than she had ever received in
all her time as a serving wench. The knights obviously considered it simply another form of service.

Her trembling hand wrapped around the coins, and only then did she truly believe they were there.

Money for sex.

It seemed a rather elegant solution to her. She had dreams of building up a sort of nest egg that she
could use to buy me...well...I'm not quite certain, actually. An education, perhaps? A career? A means
out of poverty? She might not have had her plans fully formed at that juncture. She only knew that a
means of making money had been handed her.

Not that the idea of selling herself hadn't flittered through her head before, particularly on cold nights
when she would have done damned near anything just to obtain a bit of shelter. But she still had enough
ties to her old way of thinking that the notion of such activities was repugnant to her. Well, her evening
with the knights had certainly realigned her thinking on that. The thing that struck her the most was how
she had managed to take herself away to a happy place of fantasy and escape. Hidden away in the
innermost recesses of her mind, she had very much liked it there. The prospect of returning to that place
was not unattractive to her. And if it was possible to earn money while doing so, why then...it was almost
like a paid vacation.

Besides, it wasn't as if she had to worry about getting pregnant.

And so my mother turned to prostitution.

She didn't quit her day job. She maintained her regular serving duties at Stroker's, if for no other
reason than that it provided her with shelter. But she quickly developed a keen eye for seeing potential
customers in the daily parade of ruffians and vagabonds who would pass through the inn. Just as quickly,
she grew skilled at letting them know in subtle--and sometimes unsubtle--ways that she could be easily
had for a fairly reasonable price.

Stroker became aware of her activities in short order. Far from being morally outraged, he had no
problem with it. As far as he was concerned, he supported anything that provided encouragement for
return customers. He did, however, want to make certain that he benefited in the short term as well, and
insisted on taking a portion of Madelyne's earnings as commission. She didn't argue the point. She was
still bringing in more money, at a faster rate, than she would previously have thought possible, so she had
no real reason to complain.

In the meantime, she was quite aware of my presence in her belly. Fortunately I developed slowly and
was something of a runt, even at my eventual birth, so the fact of the pregnancy was something she was
able to conceal for quite some time. If Stroker had had a brain beyond the brutish canniness that passed
for thought, he might have figured it out. What woman is available for entertainment every day of the
month? Nonetheless, it slipped past Stroker for a good long time. Eventually, though, even he--the