DELUGE (30 page)

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Authors: Lisa T. Bergren

BOOK: DELUGE
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“Humph,” she said, still stroking her belly. Her skirt’s gathers seemed to emphasize the roundness. “
Cute curves
. That’s a polite way of saying
fat
.”

“You’re not fat! You have that baby in five weeks and you’ll be back to normal a few weeks after that. And less grumpy.”

She let out a long breath. “You know what would make me less grumpy? A
walk
. To Castello Greco. C’mon, Lia,” she said, her whole face settling in for some serious begging. “Let’s go see Ali. She’s gotta be bored, too. She wanted you to give her some archery lessons. Or we can play tric-trac if it’s too cold to be outside. Or strip poker. I don’t care! Just something to get me out of this funk.”

I laughed. “All right, all right. Settle down. But let’s take bags with a change of clothes. That way, if you’re too tired to make the walk home, we can stay there overnight.”

Her face lit up with victory and she clasped her hands together before pulling me to her to kiss both cheeks. “You’re the best sister ever.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, already feeling a measure of foreboding that I’d just given in to something I shouldn’t have.

 

We set off an hour later, with twelve men as our guards—Captain Pezzati wouldn’t accept any other option. I guessed I was as excited as Gabi for an outing and a chance to talk—really talk—with Alessandra. I knew it’d been tough for her adapting to life as a Sienese, shirking her Fiorentini roots. But she’d seemed to do a bang-up job of it. And she clearly loved her husband. Just the thought of them, and the small, secretive looks they shared, made me smile. Both had been in serious need of love. And they’d found it.

It made me think of Luca, long for him…If there was one thing medieval Italy seemed destined to do, it was help people in the ways of love. As we picked our way down the road, pausing periodically when Gabi had Braxton-Hicks contractions strong enough to steal her breath, I contemplated that thought. Even the knights who protected us on the road—six ahead and six behind—seemed to either have a love interest in the villages about or maids in the castle. Castello Forelli would’ve made a crazy-great setting for a series like
Downton Abbey
, I thought. We were all so intimately wrapped up in one another’s lives…

“You know what I love best about being here?” I asked Gabi, as she blew out a long breath and rubbed the bulk of her belly.

“A certain knight?” she asked, raising a brow.

I glanced past her to the two closest knights within view, waiting on us, while giving us a measure of privacy by staying a bit away. “Well him,
yes
. But it’s being together as a family. Living life together, you know? Not just Mom and Dad, you and Marcello, me and Luca. But all of us. The knights,” I said, waving forward, “the maids,” I said, waving backward. “The stewards, the squires, everyone. It’s like living with a great, big family.”

We returned to our easy pace along the path, among tall oaks that had long since shed the leaves that crunched beneath our slippers, and a few evergreens.

“Back home, we didn’t even know our neighbors. I mean, beyond names.”

Gabi nodded. “I think it’s how we were meant to live,” she said. “In community. Taking care of one another. Sharing. Loving. Celebrating and grieving together. I think it’s part of what drew me here, and convinced me to stay.”

“Me, too.”

We walked for a time in silence. “It’s good here, Gabi. I’m glad we came.”

“I’m so glad,” she said, tossing me a smile over her shoulder.

We picked our way across the dry riverbed, and I thought that soon after the baby came—which seemed to be our every measure of time of late—water would flow again, filling its banks. I liked when it was full, and I determined that Luca and I would take to river excursions for our picnics, when weather cooperated. There was something about moving water that soothed and restored me. And I wanted to fill my sketchbook with lively images of it.

I even liked the process of watching it ebb and dry up, I decided, as we left the stony bed behind us, climbing up the path toward the tombs. It was another part of life I liked here, the way we measured the passage of months by the weather—and not just a superficial understanding of the weekly forecast, but a deep-set, primal knowledge of the cycle of seasons that fed the earth, which fed the fields, which led to food on our tables. That was something that most kids back at Boulder High would never really get. Not really. Even with all their eco-focus. Most had parents bringing home six-figure salaries, and the closest they got to their food source was Whole Foods. It was a start on what was unfolding in me, this tie to the earth, but it was only a start.

Gabi paused at the meadow with the tombs and cast a questioning glance back my way as if to say—Want to stop?—but I shook my head. The last time, watching Orazio and Galileo disappear…even the thought of it made my stomach vaguely queasy. Because now the thought of me and Gabi putting our hands on the prints…leaving Luca! It made me want to kneel down and weep.
Please, Lord,
I prayed.
Make a way. Keep us from ever ever ever having to leave. I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear it…

Gabi glanced back at me. “Lia?”

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’m okay. It’s just….passing the tomb. Thinking of leaving again…”

She turned to me and took me in her arms, which was a bit odd of late, with a basketball between us. “I know,” she said simply. And I knew she did. More than that, for the first time, I fully understood what it had taken for her to leave the second time. The first, she thought she might be in love with Marcello. The second, she knew. She
knew
. And still, she’d found it within herself to go. To go with me to try and get Dad. Because we couldn’t do anything else.

Because we couldn’t do anything else.

I guessed that was a key. And I silently marked it in my head and heart as a hallmark for future tough decisions.

We journeyed on, up and over the hill, with periodic stops and patient waiting by the knights, on our behalf. I knew they were probably half-bored out of their minds, but also probably half-delirious with the opportunity for a real task. Marcello and Luca and Captain Pezzati kept them busy with daily training. But most of their days were filled with normal castle life, no battles on the horizon…it was dull for a knight. And there was a tension there that I thought might grow increasingly challenging as this peace continued.

We neared Castello Greco, her towering gates soon before us. With her entry perched in a shallow valley, her gates were taller than any other I’d ever seen, and then I was pushing aside the memory of Gabi above, dangling over the edge as Cosmo Paratore—once my captor, then hers—gripped her by the arm on the night the castle fell to the Sienese. I pushed aside the vision of Dad, injured after a sword blade pierced his upper chest—a wound that had to heal the old-fashioned way, through normal time, and had done so reasonably well. But we’d been so scared. So. Scared. Thinking him dead, after all we’d done to save him.

So…yeah. This castle carried some baggage with her. But when our knights announced us, as the newish gates opened with a tremendous groan and creak, and we saw Lady Alessandra Greco awaiting us, practically dancing on her toes with pleasure at the sight of us, I smiled. We were remaking our memories of this place. Filled with good people. New days and nights and celebrations. And this would be one of them, I determined.

I saw that she held a small girl by the hand, a child no more than about three. She was precious, all dark skin and long, curly hair, in a tiny, perfect dress.

“Who is this?” I asked, leaning in to kiss Alessandra on either cheek.

“This is Chiara,” Alessandra said. “She has come to live with us.”

Her eyes told us there was more to the story, but it would have to wait—she didn’t want to talk about it in front of the child. The girl whined, and Alessandra lifted her up and onto one hip, cradling her close, murmuring to her. “I’m so glad you’ve come to visit,” Ali said, smiling at each of us.

“We missed you and thought you might be lonely,” Gabi said, “without Rodolfo at home. We didn’t know little Chiara was keeping you company! Would you mind if we spent the day with you, and possibly the night?”

“Mind?” she returned. “It will be grand.” She turned to the steward at her right. “Agostino, we shall set a special supper this night for the three of us, in the small hall.”

Her words held power, but her tone was questioning. Clearly, she was still getting used to being lady of the house. I held back a laugh. That was never something that Gabs struggled with. But it would’ve been for me, and my heart went out to her. Maybe Gabi could give her some pointers…

As soon as I’d thought it, Gabi was on it. “You must drop the question from your tone,” she said quietly, slipping her arm through Alessandra’s as we walked. I followed them. “The lady of the house never questions herself, only directs.”

“Which is challenging, m’lady,” Alessandra returned, “when a lady questions every word she utters.”

Gabi lifted her head, as if in surprise. “Alessandra,” she said, “the thing that struck me most when we met you was your singular purpose on the hunt. I think it’s what struck your husband, too. In that same way, you must address your household. The key aspect being that it’s
your
household. Rodolfo likely cares primarily for the knights and your security in terms of household duties—the walls, essentially. Everything within those walls is your realm, yes?”

Alessandra mulled over her words, looking somewhat troubled. “Would that your words be true. My husband cares for the walls, the territory, the border. But I daresay he cares for everything and everyone inside, too. There seems to be naught that escapes him. He is uncommonly aware, uncommonly
keen
to things that are by degrees…off.”

We were silent, all lost in this thought. For it was true. Rodolfo Greco
was
uncommonly attuned to nuance. Detail. It was why the Fiorentini sent him after us, years before. He was like a hunter, or a detective. Gathering clues. Guessing at logical paths. Deducing. The Sherlock Holmes of the Middle Ages.

I was glad he was in Siena. For a time, we girls could put off thoughts of the future and simply concentrate on the present. And to me…well, it was the closest thing to a slumber party that I’d had in a very, very long time.

CHAPTER THIRTY

 

~GABRIELLA~

 

Chiara was a delightful child. She coyly played hide-and-seek with me as we ate, ducking under the table and then peeking out. We soon learned she was an orphan, and Rodolfo had simply brought her home to Ali a week past when he couldn’t find another to take her in. Her mother had died in childbirth and her father, in his grief, had drunk himself to death. When Rodolfo rode through the village, he’d found Chiara, dirty, crying and hungry, in the road. Few of the villagers wanted another mouth to feed…they were only interested in boys, who might better help them till their fields or harvest their grapes. And as the nearest lord, they figured Chiara was Greco’s responsibility.

When Alessandra finally got the child to sleep, she returned to us.

“So,” I said, “you went from newlywed to new mother. How are you faring with that?”

“Ahh,” she said wrapping her arms around herself and shaking her head with a grin, “I could not be happier. After losing my mother, my brothers, and then my father…” Her voice caught, but she swallowed hard and continued, a tight smile on her lips. “To me, this is as if God has given me a new beginning. Hope,” she added. “I hope we fill this castello with babies in time. I want lots of little Grecos about!”

As if in response, my baby rolled within my womb. Ali’s delight over insta-motherhood made me suddenly eager to have my own child in my arms. “I’m so glad for you,” I said, reaching out to squeeze her arm.

“’Tis wonderful for all
three
of you,” Lia added.

“What did Rodolfo think?” I asked. “Of adopting the child?”

“He seems a little in love with the girl,” Alessandra said. “He smiles all the time. And he is glad that we could help Chiara when she had no kin to turn to. You should see the girl with him. She follows him around like a little puppy!”

We stayed up late. Alessandra was deeply in love with her husband, still as ga-ga at the mention of him as Lia was with Luca. We shared stories and giggled, and Lia gave her an archery lesson by torchlight, keeping her enthralled with her account from Venice all the while. Ali was a quick-study and had obviously been practicing with her bow, for she was as good as I was now. She watched Lia’s every move, asking her questions about handholds and tension on the string.

I didn’t even try to enter in, finding it impossible to properly hold the bow with my belly getting in the way. Lia attempted to cajole me into trying it by holding it at an angle, but I refused. Besides, my back ached and it was hard to stand for any length of time. I was happy to simply sit and watch them, laughing with them.

Soon after, we headed to bed, pausing at the top of the stairs.

“I’m so glad you’re settling in here,” I said to Alessandra. “Close to us. I’m so glad you are our friend.”

“As am I,” she said, shyly placing a hand on her flat belly, making me a little envious.

Thoughts of the plague taking Rodolfo, Alessandra, or little Chiara crowded my mind, but I quickly shoved them away, forcing a smile.

“We best get to bed, Gabi,” Lia prodded. “You need rest.” We continued down the hallway to our guest rooms.

We said our
buona seras
, and then went to our chambers.

I waved at the knights, who were just trading off shifts, shut the door, slid the bolt closed. Then I flopped down on the bed and promptly went to sleep without bothering to get undressed.

 

I awoke far later than I might have at home. Back at Castello Forelli, a maid arrived shortly after sun-up, every morning. But here, no one had knocked, and I hadn’t heard a thing outside. Feeling creeped-out—as if I might have somehow been left alone in the castle—I moved to the door, listened a moment and then unbolted it and peeked out.

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