As the wagon started up, Gael noticed, for the first time, that there was a girl walking just behind the wagon, on the other side. She was a skinny thing, clad practically in rags, her hair dirty and matted, and her face drawn and gaunt. Somehow, he felt that he ought to know who she was, but she certainly didn’t look like anyone he’d ever seen.
"Sproule," he said, uncertainly.
Sproule stopped the wagon. "Yes, brother Gael?"
"Who’s the girl?"
Sproule looked at the girl, and then at Gael, a sly look transforming his face in a very unpleasant way.
"She’s m’ niece. My brother’s whelp."
Gael remembered, now. There had been a girl, left orphaned when her parents died, and Sproule descended on his brother’s property. It had been a very long time since he’d mixed with his neighbors, and he didn’t recall what she looked like, or even whether he’d ever seen her, but the appalling state that she was in spoke volumes about how much Sproule had neglected everything that he had inherited.
"She going to Donton with you?"
Sproule nodded. "If I can’t sell her off somewhere else, first. She don’t look like much, but she’s a good worker. Make someone a nice maid or some such, once she’s cleaned up a bit."
Gael was appalled by the crass simplicity of the statement. The girl was his brother’s child, for god’s sake, and all the villain cared about was whether he could wring some coin out of her. He wouldn’t even put it past him to take her all the way to Donton, and sell her into prostitution. Not that it was any of his business what people did with their things, or their relatives, but it pained him to see a young girl face such a future. A sudden impulse overcame him, and he casually nodded toward the girl.
"What do you want for her?"
Sproule’s face broke into what was undoubtedly the broadest grin that the fellow was capable of. "Ah, so I do have something you want."
"I didn’t say I necessarily wanted her. But if you’re selling her, I could use a hand around here." Sproule got down from the wagon, went over to the girl, and led her over to Gael, so that he could show her off better.
"She’s a lot stronger than she looks. Not much meat on her, but big boned."
Gael looked her over. The girl was as skinny as a rail. Even though a bit over five feet tall, he doubted that she weighed much over six stone.
"She looks like she’s been starved."
Sproule spread his hands, and shrugged. "She’s not been feeling well, and she’s lost some weight. I’m sure that now she’s better, she’ll be fit in no time."
Gael turned back to the girl, who had been standing, apparently oblivious to their conversation, with her face staring down into the dirt beneath her bare feet. He put one hand under her chin, and raised it, so that he could look at her eyes. He was surprised to see that they were nice eyes, dark eyes, with a certain fire in them, despite the downtrodden look of the rest of her, and that instead of lightly letting him look into them, she turned them away from him.
"I’ll give you a pig and a chicken for her," he said, rather dubiously.
"Four pigs and two chickens," Sproule replied. "She’s got skills, she has. She can cook, and sew, and she’d be a good bedmate, if you want one."
Gael’s nostrils flared at the fellow’s effrontery. He was an old man, nearly forty-two, and this girl couldn’t possibly be more than fifteen or sixteen. She might be of marriageable age, but the idea that he would force such a young thing into his bed was not only disgusting, but also an insult to him, and to all humanity. Still, if he was to save her, it was best not to upset Sproule, so he suppressed his feelings and continued to examine her.
Pulling her dress taut against her, he was hardly surprised, but still more than a bit distressed, to see how little there was of her inside it, and he noted that.
"She’s awfully small-breasted. If I were to take her, she’d not be likely to have enough milk for any children she bore."
"Well, you can always use goat’s milk to help a babe along," Sproule said, smoothly. "And as I said, she’s been sick. You feed her good for a little while, and I’m sure she’ll fill right out. And she’s a good age. Just sixteen. Old enough to marry, but young enough to know her place."
The girl started slightly at that, and Gael decided that Sproule must be exaggerating her age to try to make the sale, not that it made any difference to him.
"Two pigs, and a chicken. If I have to fatten her up, I can’t afford to pay much more."
