The Warrior and Calissande

Chapter 10: She Is My Happiness

When I awoke after a few hours, the warrior still sat beside me, still holding our daughter. She was making mewling sounds, beginning to squirm in his hold.

"She is making noises," he told me gravely, "and she would not listen when I told her to allow you to rest longer."

Pretending to cough so he would not know I was laughing at him, I sat up in the bed, noting that darkness had come while I slept.

"She needs to be fed, warrior," I explained holding my arms out for her.

"You called me Carrick during your labors, Calissande," he chided me as he handed her into my arms. "And I liked hearing my name after so long."

"I will not be held responsible for what came out of my mouth when I was in such pain," I grumbled.

The baby latched on to my breast, and I did not have to look over to know the warrior watched us, fascinated. He was a man of war, of strength, of cunning, of action, but he seemed completely baffled and intrigued by our baby.

"Tell me her name," he commanded after a moment. 

I looked down at her and said, "She is Felicity, for she is my happiness."

"Our happiness, Calissande. Felicity is our happiness."

"Yes, and we must ensure that her future is a happy and secure one, as she deserves. I would not like to think of her future as a camaspoza."

As soon as that word left my mouth, the warrior leapt off the bed, his eyes enraged.

"No daughter of mine will ever be a camaspoza, Calissande. Never will such a future be hers. Do not say such a thing again. Were you a man, I would kill you for speaking such an insult."

"Every camaspoza began life as a tiny baby. Every camaspoza probably had a mother and father who would not wish such a future on her and yet it became her fate."

"This is not a subject for a lady wife, especially not one who is holding my daughter."

"You do not wish your daughter to become one --"

"She will not become one," he snarled fiercely, interrupting me with his vehemence.

"But you have no objection to using one."

"It was tradition. I have explained this to you. I have also explained that I sent her back. Why must you keep bringing this up?"

"Because I want you to understand how wrong it was. I want you to understand how much it hurt not only me, but her," I snapped at him. "I have absolutely no love for her in my heart, yet as I am holding our daughter in my arms and thinking about the life and future I hope and pray she will have, I cannot help but pity those who become camaspozas. And I think how close we came to Felicity growing up and slowly becoming aware of her father's whore living in the same home with all of us, bringing shame to her mother every single day."

I dared a glance at Carrick, who looked as one who had just been slapped across the face.

"You treat the camaspoza as less than nothing, and yet they are just girls who were forced into a horrible existence. If you do not want it for our daughter, you must not want it for any girl. Because it could be Felicity's fate --" he opened his mouth to object, but I spoke over him, "-- if she did not have such a strong and wealthy father to protect her from such a future."

For many moments, the warrior simply stared at me, his mind working furiously, his jaw tight.

"I have no doubt in my mind that it was a man who came up with the idea of a camaspoza, and a man who thought giving the lady wife trinkets would atone for the sin of having another so blatantly and freely. I have no doubt it was a man who decided to create a camaspoza tradition to allow a man to do whatever he wants, forcing his wife to accept that which is abhorrent and forcing poor girls into a life that is no better than a dog's."