DELUGE (31 page)

Falito startled, as if dozing on his feet, and straightened. “My lady?” he asked, concerned.

“Oh, good morning,” I returned. “It was so quiet I thought mayhap you’d left me.”

“No, m’lady,” he said sternly, as if I’d just offended him by suggesting such a thing.

“Good, good,” I murmured. “Is Lady Evangelia still asleep?”

“Nay, m’lady. She accompanied Lady Greco and little Chiara on a walk.”

I let out a sigh and shut the door. Blinking, I undressed down to my shift, threw my rumpled gown to the bed, went over to a small table, poured water from a pitcher into a basin, and quickly washed my face and under my arms. I dried off and pulled out another gown, a deep burgundy that was so well made it managed to make me feel decent in it, even with my protruding belly. This one had no gathers at the front, falling from an empire waist straight down, and I hoped it made me look a bit less like Her Whaleness. Around adorable little Alessandra, I always felt Amazonian…and the pregnancy just made me feel worse.

I combed out my hair but knew I would never be able to wrestle it into more than a semblance of a knot.
But it’s just us girls this morning,
I decided.
No worries.

Slipping my feet into my tapestry flats, I was out the door, telling Falito my plans from over my shoulder, even as he hurried to catch up with me. The other knight was gone, presumably watching over Lia. Ever since the attempt on our lives in Venice, the knights were crazy vigilant. Irritatingly vigilant. Away from home, I understood it. Back at the castello, and even here, I thought it ridiculous, but Marcello had been adamant.

“Do you know where Evangelia and Alessandra went?” I asked, still walking.

“They went for a walk in the western woods,” Falito said. “But m’lady, I’d expect them back at any moment. Mayhap if you simply wait here…”

“Gabriella,” called a man’s voice.

I froze. Then continued, electing to pretend I hadn’t heard him.

Because I knew it was Rodolfo.

“Gabriella!” he called again, this time clearly in the hall behind me.

I looked to Falito, who stared at me in confusion, wondering why it took Lord Greco twice to stop me. Wringing my hands, I glanced back at Rodolfo. “You’ve returned,” I said, pretending gladness.

I was stuck. With him.

Without my sister.

Without his wife.

“Come,” he said, gesturing to his den. “I have need of you.”

I swallowed hard, resting my hand against my rounded belly, tightening with another Braxton-Hicks, this one especially fierce.
Did he mean…No. No, that wasn’t it.

Slowly, I walked back to him and entered, Falito right behind me.

“’Tis all right, Falito,” Rodolfo said. “The lady is safe with me.”

“Begging your pardon, m’lord, but I am to stay with my lady at all times, even with friends.”

Rodolfo looked to me, waiting.

With a sigh, I dismissed him. “Please. Simply wait outside the door. If I have need of you, I shall call.”

Grim-faced, Falito paused. “My lady—”

“If I have need of you, I shall
call
. We are in the house of friends.”

Falito reluctantly turned on his heel and slipped out, slowly closing the door behind him, watching until the very last inch was sealed.

Rodolfo leaned against the table that served as his desk, folding his arms. “Where were you going in such haste?”

“To catch up with your wife and my sister,” I said. “I overslept, and they went off to walk with little Chiara. I am so glad, by the way, that you took her in. It was most kind.”

A small smile danced on his full lips, and his eyes softened. “It’s been a blessing to us as much as her. I think…I think Alessandra needed a child, to settle her. To give her focus here.” He gestured about. “’Tis much to take in when one has been raised in a small cottage.”

“But she is faring well,” I said. “Adapting?”

“She is,” he said with a nod. “I have every confidence that she has all she needs to run this household. But now I am aware that I must keep both her and Chiara safe.” He crossed his arms and pinched his chin as he studied me. “’Tis the reason that I called you in here, Gabriella. You’ve avoided me for some time. Since that day in the field of tombs. When—”

When he’d pressed us for the truth. When he realized we were from the future.
“
Yes
, yes,” I said, glancing back at the den door, praying Falito wasn’t listening in.

Rodolfo frowned and then stepped closer to me, maybe so that he could speak in a quieter tone. Still, it made me uncomfortable. I resisted the urge to back away from him. Wished with everything in me that Lia and Alessandra would get back. Tried to find the courage to look him in the eye and failed.

“Gabriella,” he whispered, tilting up my chin to force me to look at him. He dropped his hand once I did. I stared into his dark eyes. “Tell me what I must know,” he said. “To keep my family safe. What is to come? What do you so fear?”

“I cannot,” I whispered, shaking my head. “It shall change things.”

His dark eyes searched mine. “You are my friend. You are Alessandra’s friend. There is something ahead of us that makes you afraid for us, yes?”

“I cannot tell you,” I said, fighting tears. “Do not ask it of me, Rodolfo.”

“Any fool might discern that Castello Forelli prepares for siege. The additional knights. The storehouse with food and medicinals. The new latrine and well. When,
when
, is this war upon us? Is it the Fiorentini who shall overtake us?”

My eyes widened.
This
was why he pressed. He feared that our enemies would take the upper hand in battle. And if they caught the Grecos…their end would be as grim as it would be for us. Perhaps even worse. Because they were thought of as both enemy and traitor.

I took a deep breath and paced to the window, thinking. What would it hurt for him to think it a battle? Was it not wise for the lord of a castle to fortify and be prepared for anything? And yet would that not likely change history in another way, if Castello Greco became as strong as Castello Forelli? Thinking it all through, from every which way, made my head hurt.

“Gabriella,” he said, taking my hand in his, and covering it with his other.

I gasped and tried to wrench away, but he held on. Even took hold of my other hand.

“You shall tell me, Gabriella,” he said, pained. “I shall have the truth. If the Fiorentini capture me, Alessandra…” His voice broke, and tears welled in his eyes. I saw that he pressed on behalf of his wife, his new daughter, not in some odd pursuit of me. “They would subject them both to the vilest of treatment, Gabriella.” A tear rolled down his cheek, and it made me tear up, too. “They would give her to the men to have their way with her before killing her before my very eyes. They would murder that precious child. Please. Please, I must know.”

I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat. I could feel a Braxton-Hicks coming on, the muscles at my lower back tightening…

“’Tis not that sort of battle we shall face, Rodolfo,” I whispered. “That which you suppose…”

He frowned, his hands tightening around mine. “Nay?”

“Nay.” I lowered my head, shaking it, feeling a measure of the pain that was to come…

“Gabriella,” he said, his tone now full of warning.

“I cannot tell you, Rodolfo.”

His hands moved to my shoulders, and he squeezed. “You must. You
must
.” He shook me a little.

“Nay! Nay!” I tried to wrench away, but he held fast. “Unhand me!
Rodolfo
!”

Falito pounded on the door. “M’lady?”

“Nay! I am all right, Falito. Forgive me for frightening you!” I looked up at Rodolfo, waiting for him to regain control, to loosen his hold on me.

He dropped his hands, looking contrite and frustrated. One hand went to his hip, the other to massage his head. “Please,” he said, dropping to one knee before me. “Please,” he whispered.

I stared down into his handsome face.

My friend.

Marcello’s blood brother.

How could I keep it a secret? If it might save him and his family?

“’Tis the plague, Rodolfo,” I whispered, feeling numb.

“What? The
plague
?”

“Worse than anything you’ve ever encountered. Ever seen,” I said, tears now rolling down my face, imagining our lovely valley, all the villages that would be subjected to illness, death…

He swallowed hard. “When?”

“Two years from now it shall reach Venezia, Pisa, Ancona, Sicily. Within months, it shall sweep through all of Italia. And this is the worst part,” I said, so faintly I wondered if he could even hear me. I stared into his eyes. “It shall remain with us, like a hungry tiger,
with
us inside the cage. For four years. And in that time, it shall take one-third of our friends and family members. Even half, in some cities.”

His lips parted, his eyes widening in horror, then growing distant.

He dropped my hands, rising painfully, as if he weren’t in his late twenties, but rather an old man, then he returned to rubbing his head.

“We shall leave,” he said, looking at me over his shoulder. “We must all leave. Take to the seas and outrun it.”

“Nay,” I said with a small shake of my head, rubbing my lower back, suddenly killing me. “There is nowhere to go that it won’t either await us or come after us. ’Tis a battle for the whole known world.”

“Known world,” he repeated, his eyes hardening. “What of your world, your land? We could go there.”

“Nay,” I said. “I don’t know if it would work and—”

“Gabriella,” he said, walking toward me. “Don’t you see? I speak not of the tomb. I speak of going elsewhere, in
our
time. Far away. Take to the seas! We could all set sail and go to your land. From whence you came.”

“Nay,” I said, shaking my head, with a small, hopeless laugh. I was pretty fuzzy on a lot of history and how we might screw it up. But I was totally sure that Dad would freak if we suggested we beat Christopher Columbus to America. And the pilgrims didn’t exactly have it easy. “Nay,” I said more emphatically as his jaw tightened, preparing to wear me down. “’Tis impossible. And even if we did go, ’twould only present us other battles.”

I sighed and reached out to lay a hand on his forearm. “What lies ahead of us is frightening, for certain,” I said. “But ’tis a known battle. And Marcello is provisioning to protect any of his brothers who have come to our aid at risk of their own lives. He feels he owes it to you, as do I. You and Alessandra shall not be alone. When this evil comes to our valley and hills, there shall be room for you and your little girl within our very own walls if need be. But, Rodolfo, you must not tell anyone of this. Not even Alessandra.”

He scowled. “I cannot keep this from her.”

“You must!” I felt the familiar tightening at my back then, but this time, it was ten-times the strength.

And when it wrapped around, under my belly, deep within, I bent over, gasping. A second later, my water broke, a rush of warm, clear liquid running down my legs and pooling on the granite beneath me, before me.

“Gabriella!” Rodolfo cried, gripping my arms, even as he picked up his boot with distaste distorting his lips. “What is
this
?”

I groaned, half mortified that it looked like I just peed all over his floor, and half in terror as the realization of what was happening solidified in my mind. I swallowed hard and looked him in the eye. “I’m in labor,” I said.

“You are
what
?” he said.

“The baby! My baby! The hour is upon us! I’m about to give birth!”

And never, ever had I seen Lord Rodolfo Greco look so scared.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

~GABRIELLA~

He picked me up in his arms and carried me to the door. “Falito!” he bellowed, kicking the door. The knight opened it so fast that he nearly hit us. He stared at Rodolfo in open accusation as we swept past.

“What is it? What has happened?” he asked, following behind us.

“Fetch the Ladies Alessandra and Evangelia. And send a man for the village midwife. Lady Gabriella is about to give birth.”

I might’ve laughed at the straight-shouldered, strong knight paling so fast I thought he’d faint. But I was in the middle of another contraction. I tried to breathe through it, worrying that it was upon me, so soon after the other. Weren’t they supposed to be farther apart? Wasn’t that what Mom said? Farther apart and then getting closer, the nearer I came to actually giving birth?

Tears streamed down my face as the contraction clenched at my belly. It felt like the worst cramps of my whole life. Like a hundred-times worse than the worst cramps. But more tears came as I fretted over the baby, coming now, weeks before he or she was due. Was she big enough, strong enough to survive? Did we get the birth date wrong? We hardly had access to ultrasounds and data to tell us…

I let out a less-than-cool moan as the next contraction hit, and squeezed with everything in me on Rodolfo’s arm.

“Hold, Gabriella, hold,” Rodolfo said through gritted teeth, keeping me close. “You shall be all right.”

“My baby,” I said through my tears as he laid me down on the bed I’d slept in last night.

“She shall be all right,” he said, stroking my cheek.

“She? She?” I laughed through my tears. “Why does everyone insist they know ’tis a girl?”

“Because she must be,” he said, casting me a wry grin as he pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and handed it to me.

I turned over to my side, panting, trying to get my head together. “My mother. I need my mother. Please, Rodolfo. Can you send a rider to Siena to fetch Marcello and my parents? These things can take tah—” I winced, grabbed a breath. “Time.”

But my last word emerged strangled from my throat as another contraction took over. I panted, feeling like an idiot, but not caring. This kind of pain was Scary with a capital S.

“Send for them,” I said, catching hold of his hand. “But get that midwife here first. And send for Giacinta and Cook from Castello Forelli. I don’t want to deliver this baby on my own.”