DELUGE (26 page)

“Thank you,” Galileo said, still clearly struggling with the idea, but accepting that Luca’s plan was best. He offered his arm and Luca took it.

“It is nothing. You are family.
My
family now,” Luca said, looking back to me. He wrenched himself away, grabbed hold of his sword, and prepared with Marcello to leap to the docks as soon as they could possibly do so. Falito and Otello were right behind them.

I went over to stand beside Gabi, and together we watched as our husbands jumped over the rail to the very end of the dock, running as soon as they gained their balance. The others were but three steps behind.

“Go with God,” Gabi whispered as they ran up the hill to a corral with horses, the Venetians ahead of them.

“M’lady?” asked Nicolo of Gabi, eyeing the beaches warily. “Shall we depart? Best to be away from these docks, given the company these sailors keep.”

“Yes,” she said, her hand on her belly, misery etching her face. Clearly, she’d prefer to wait here, or at least watch until they were out of sight, but the captain was right. This town was full of men who wouldn’t hesitate to turn us over to the Fiorentini for a bag of gold.

“Make way!” called the captain. “Haul sail! To Ancona!”

“To Ancona!” echoed the other sailors. And within minutes, we were back at sea again.

***

We made port as the sun set in the west over the rolling hills of Umbria. Nicolo arranged for a month’s mooring for our new boat, as well as a guard at night—there were more than a few who might consider trying to steal the fine vessel, so freshly launched from Venezia. We paid the sailors who had manned the
Sea-Wolf
—enough for our passage, a couple nights’ lodging in Ancona, and passage on another ship back to Venezia. But Nicolo refused payment.

“It’s been an honor to serve you,” he said. “Should you find you need a crew for the
Sea-Wolf
, send me word, and we shall come to you.”

“
Grazie
,
Capitano
,” I said. For as much as I’d written him off as a drunkard and playboy, I’d been impressed with him on this trip. He was a sober and strong leader. Maybe he only needed the right opportunity, a weight of responsibility, in order to shine. But then, didn’t we all?

Dad and Celso had arranged for overland transportation, but with the setting sun, we elected to spend the night in Ancona. We hadn’t come all this way in order to be caught on the road home, and we were down to four knights guarding us. The port was generally friendly territory to the Sienese, but there’d been some unrest of late there—with the pope trying to assert more power over the region—and after all we’d gone through, as much as we just wanted to be home, we knew it was best to wait until morning. Besides, I was worried about Gabi. She needed to rest. And there was a mountain pass between us and home—it’d take all day to get there.

So we found a comfy inn and put our own blankets atop the moth-eaten versions they offered; and just as I was fretting that I’d never get to sleep, wondering where Luca was and how they were faring in overtaking the Fiorentini, I did just that. Fell asleep.

***

I awakened feeling guilty for how easy it had been, sleeping. I sat up and stretched, and saw that Gabi was at the small window, staring out at sea.

“I wouldn’t mind it,” she said. “After the baby is born and the…” she dropped her tone, “
thing
is past. It’d be good, you know? To sail along these shores on the
Sea-Wolf
, maybe go across to Croatia.”

“It’s pretty rough across the Adriatic, I hear,” I said. “We’d have to be in fighting shape.”

“We will be,” she replied, staring into my eyes.

“You’re so sure we won’t get it. The...
thing.
You, the hypochondriac of the family.”

“I’m not sure,” she said, looking out again. “I just can’t imagine our future here without any of us in it. So I refuse to consider the thought.”

I padded over to her and looped my arm through hers and looked down the cliff to the blue, blue sea. “It
is
really beautiful,” I said, my tone wistful. “But come, let’s grab some breakfast and set out for Castello Forelli. I don’t know about you, but I think home will be the most welcome sight of all.”

She smiled at me, her brown eyes glowing with warmth. “Eager to move your stuff into Luca’s quarters?”

“A bit. And maybe I can stash a bunch of his stuff before he gets home. You know, make a little more room for mine.”

“Ahh, yes. The bachelor days are over. No more giant TV screen and old futon couch. No more framed football jersey…”

I giggled with her. “He has his own versions. Armor that he hasn’t worn for years but still holds on to. A horsehair couch with a dozen bald spots.”

She laughed. “He loves you so much, you could probably toss it all and he wouldn’t care. As long as you were in the room at the end.”

I smiled, and my heart skipped a beat thinking of him coming home, of us sharing his spacious quarters. As captain of the guard, only Marcello and Gabi had bigger rooms. And his had a lovely little view of the northeastern hills, as well as a view of the courtyard on the other side…

I turned to hurriedly dress, but in my mind, I was already in the castello, making his room
ours
. Beginning our life together as husband and wife. Retiring together to a….
Hmmm, we’re going to need a bigger bed!
I’d glimpsed it a couple of times, from the hallway, and it was fairly small. Not that he’d complain about that. The thought made me smile.
Oh, hurry, Luca. Please, please find Orazio. Please be safe. And please return to me soon.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

~GABRIELLA~

By the time we neared home that night, I honestly didn’t think I could be more relieved. Riding horseback all day was never pleasant, but I’d clearly gotten to a point of discomfort in my pregnancy that made me seriously consider bailing on riding horses altogether until I was not pregnant any longer. My belly and boobs bounced too much. My back ached. My hips burned. And that was just the beginning of the things I was ready to whine about.

We’d run into one band of knights who hassled us a bit on a road they claimed they owned. But when the Forelli name was mentioned, they reluctantly backed off, allowing us to pass. The Marche region was full of little kingdoms, and it was good to cross the mountains and know that on the downward slope more and more friends of the Forellis would surround us. As long as we stayed south of the Fiorentini border.

My heart sped up every time I thought of the guys giving chase to the Fiorentini, closer and closer to Firenze’s territory. Again and again, I pushed aside horrible thoughts of them getting captured, and what we would do if that happened. At one point, Dad rode up beside me, took one look at my face and said, “Rehearsing your troubles, Gabi, is the worst way to use your energy. Take it as it comes. Don’t imagine the worst. If you have to imagine, imagine the best.”

I gave him a grateful smile and focused on that the rest of the way home. Every time I thought about Marcello being struck by an arrow, I pictured his armor keeping it from piercing his skin. Every time I thought about my love getting captured, I turned it into him capturing Barbato and Foraboschi. Every time I thought about him dying, not living to see his baby, I imagined him holding our babe in his big, strong hands. And every time I saw Galileo look down the road behind us, as if he wished his brother was miraculously approaching, I imagined him running down the road to greet Orazio when our guys brought him home.

Galileo edged his horse closer to mine. “Gabriella,” he began earnestly, “I can’t begin to thank you and your husband enough. For going after Orazio…”

“We could do no other. You are our family,” I said. “And you wouldn’t be facing such trouble if it wasn’t for us. We’re the ones who led you into that tomb in the first place, right?” I asked quietly, so only he could hear.

He considered this. “Stories of the lost Betarrinis, their ties to Etruscan ruins…ancestors of our own. It was pretty irresistable.”

I sighed. How many others might follow? Or would these two be the only ones with the right genetic makeup and smarts to figure out the time tunnel? It made my head hurt, thinking about it. We could mess history up big-time, we Betarrinis, if the clan kept showing up from who-knew-when to disrupt medieval life. Dad had enough trouble corralling us and keeping us from “infecting history,” as he put it. How would he control a bunch of time-traveling Betarrinis?

At last we turned onto a road that screamed “home” to me, and I barely resisted the urge to gallop down it to the castello. We were only a mile away, then a half-mile, and finally, we could see her crenellated walls, her golden flags whipping in the stiff November breeze under dark skies. All day we’d worried we’d be caught in a downpour; thankfully, the clouds clung to their heavy loads.

The men atop our walls cheered when they saw us. A call went out to open the gates and by the time we reached them, they felt like the welcoming arms of a mother. We entered and the gray-bearded Captain Pezzati came to me to help me dismount. I wobbled, my legs feeling so weary they were like jello, and he reached out to steady me.

“M’lady?”

“Nay, I’m only weary.”

He insisted on taking my arm until my mother could tend to me, which she did, confidently escorting me through the crowd of welcoming servants and around the Great Hall to our doorway, which led up to our rooms. “Cook,” she called over her shoulder, “please send up some hot soup and bread.”

“Straight away, m’lady,” she said, practically bursting with excitement to see to her task.

I could hear the captain calling for knights to assume formation as we entered the turret. I knew his plan was to send out patrols to hopefully intercept our men returning home. And assist them, should any Fiorentini be giving chase. He’d send them out in groups of six, and keep the guys that Marcello and Luca trusted most here with us, as they had instructed. But he was as anxious as I to see the Forellis
all
safely home.

I stopped partway up the stairs and breathed fast, gripping my belly.

“Gabi?” Mom asked.

“Contraction,” I panted, feeling the muscles bind from my back forward. “I think.”

She frowned. “It’s probably just a Braxton-Hicks. Your body beginning to prepare for labor by pretending it’s the real deal, essentially. But it’s early for that. We need to get you to bed and make sure it’s nothing more.”

“Give me just a moment,” I said, lifting a finger. After a minute, my muscles seemed to relax and I could breathe again. “Sheesh, this pregnancy stuff is a laugh a minute, isn’t it?”

She laughed under her breath. “Just wait.”

“You sure know how to encourage a girl, Mom.”

“I do my best,” she returned. Her strong arm tightened around my waist and together we made it up the last of the stairs and into my room. I sighed with relief as Mom immediately began to unlace my overdress and unpin my hair.
What would I do without her?
I thought, gratefulness swelling in my heart, despite my exhaustion. There was no fire in the corner fireplace, but the room still felt warm to me. At least it was warmer than it was outside…and once I was in the big bed, under the wool blankets, I knew I’d be toasty within minutes. And asleep before I noticed.

I sank to the edge of the bed, aware that I was still in my road-grubby shift, yet not caring. Giacinta arrived with a bucket of water, filled a basin, and carried it over to me with a cloth.

“I’m so glad you’re home safe and sound, m’lady,” she said.

“As am I.” I took the cloth from her hand, dipped it, wrung it out and washed my face and neck.

“Is Lord Forelli coming soon, too?” she asked carefully.

“As soon as he can. He’s in pursuit of some Fiorentini who tried to kidnap our kin.”

“Your kin?” she said in horror.

I remembered Galileo, then, with regret. I’d felt so faint… “Giacinta, do you know if my cousin, Galileo, was given a room?”

“Oh yes, m’lady. Lady Evangelia saw to him.”

“Oh, good,” I said, yawning.

“Do not fret over anything,” Mom said. “We shall cover the needs of the castello until you regain your strength.” She turned to answer a knock at the door. It was a servant girl with the soup and bread she’d requested of Cook.

“I can’t eat, Mom,” I said, starting to slump toward the pillows, already thinking of how lovely it’d be to fall asleep in my own bed…

“Uh-uh!” she cried, grabbing hold of my arm and forcing me to sit up straight again. “Three bites of soup and half this bread. A cup of water. Then,
then
you can go to sleep.”

Giacinta started to work on my hair, combing it out, and the tug of tangles and knots sent little shots of adrenaline through my body. Grumpily, I lifted the wooden bowl to my lips and sipped. It was delicious. And I discovered I was hungry. Okay, starving, actually. Soon, I’d gulped the whole thing down, and in between sips, eaten a good portion of the bread.

“Good, good,” Mom crooned. “Feel better?”

“A bit,” I agreed. She let me lie down on the bed as Giacinta stoked the fire in the hearth and then slipped from the room with my empty trencher and bowl. Mom moved to the corner table, uncorked a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. I felt guilty. She had to be starving herself.

“Mom…you should go eat. I didn’t even offer you any…”

“No. I’ll see to that in a moment. How’s the belly?” she asked, overly casual. Clearly not wanting me to freak. “Any more contractions?”

“Nah. I think it’s just that I kinda overdid it today.”

“You kinda overdid the whole last week.”

I grinned at her, my face half-hidden in the pillow. “I dunno. Political intrigue. Watching Lia zip-line. Fireworks. Crushing crowds. A murder attempt. A wedding. A race across the sea. A drowning man saved. A day-long horseback ride.” I turned over, with my hands interlaced behind my head. “Just your average week in Italia.”