DELUGE (44 page)

I tucked my head against the side of his neck. “Luca, I need something.”

“What is it, love?”

“I need you to get us to the tombs.”

He took hold of my shoulders and leaned away. “What?”

I could guess at all his suspicions. “It’s the Betarrini brothers. They’ve left some medicine in the tomb for us. At least, they were supposed to. If they were successful then—”

“Evangelia, you are not going out there. There are still rogue bands of Fiorentini about. I don’t even care for you being outside the walls. There is a bounty upon our heads, but you and Gabriella, especially.”

“That hasn’t changed for years,” I said.

“Except that Barbato quadrupled the bounty on any Betarrini or Forelli.” Even saying it made him move slightly in front of me and look about. “’Tis enough to make even a loyal Sienese think twice about moving north of the border,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

I frowned at that. “I cannot live in fear of our own. Or even in fear of the Fiorentini.”

“I understand,” he said. “But you must see that it makes little sense to go out there. I shall go, alone.”

“That makes no further sense to me,” I protested. “Then it shall be you in danger.”

“Nay, I shall keep his neck from a noose,” Marcello said with a sly grin, coming near. His smile quickly vanished. “We can trust no others in knowing where we travel, given the rumors that abound. Let me look in on Gabriella, then let us be about this errand before nightfall descends.”

My heart was in my throat. I knew no one was better qualified to go out into the woods as the sun set, but the idea of our husbands heading into dangerous territory when Dad was ailing, putting them in further danger than they already were…for the first time, I wished I was a bit more like Gabi, just taking off to take care of it myself. Worrying about my own safety was less stressful than worrying about my husband and brother-in-law.

I set out to find a fresh bucket and cup to give Dad water, as well as some bread. When I returned, I saw that Luca had assigned a patrol of six knights to stand guard around my Dad and Mom. I wanted, with everything in me, to take care of him inside the walls of the castello, and when Gabi found out that he was sick and outside the walls…I sighed. The whole thing was such a wretched, terrifying mess.

Dad was shivering, his fever soaring. His eyes looked sunken in the sockets, his skin pale. Mom covered him with another blanket. Instinctively, I reached out to touch his arm, but Mom grabbed my wrist. She gave me a sorrowful shake of her head. “The baby,” she whispered. “You must protect your baby. If you get sick…I will care for your dad. I’ve been more than exposed already.”

I swallowed hard and settled to my knees, aware of the dread chill of the winter-cold ground. A smoky haze settled all around us in the twilight, fed by the gruesome funeral fire that the men were still stoking. It lent a spooky feel to our beloved woods—making me all the more certain that enemy soldiers might attack us at any moment, or that Luca and Marcello might get captured.

Anxiously, I listened for their return, disappointed several times when it was merely new patrols, riding in to report, rather than the Forellis with medicine from the future. Medicine that might save my dad again. An hour passed. Then two. “C’mon,” I whispered.
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…

Dad fell asleep, still shivering so hard that his teeth chattered. I wanted to weep when Mom curled up beside him, wrapping her arm across his torso. She cast aside the handkerchief that covered her nose and mouth, ripping it away as if it stifled her. She settled her face on his chest and tugged him closer. Tears drifted down to the bridge of her nose and dropped onto Dad’s tunic. I found another blanket and covered them both, letting my hand rest on her shoulder a moment, then turned to watch the path on which Luca and Marcello should have already appeared.

The gates came open and four patrols rode out, twenty-four men in pairs, heading directly north. I stood up and walked over to Captain Pezzati. “What is it? What’s happening?”

“Lady Evangelia,” he said, turning me aside as he eyed the horizon in protective fashion, “Might I ask—where were Lord Forelli and the captain heading?”

I paused, judging his expression, trying to figure out what was going on. “I think they hoped to find aid for my father. The same doctor that healed Orazio Betarrini,” I said. It was close enough to the truth.

His gray brows furrowed. “Why did they insist on going alone?”

“
Captain
,” I said sharply. “What is it? What has happened?”

“They’ve been cut off, surrounded. Our men are trying to get to them. I must insist you come inside.”

“Nay,” I said, my heart pounding. “I am through with hiding inside the walls. Even within, my enemy hunts me! Look there, to my parents. My sister is on her own recovery bed, my husband in danger. I shall lend my hand to the effort in the only way I can.”

“You don’t mean to—”

“I do. Prepare two more patrols to accompany me to the front lines.”

“Nay, m’lady. I cannot allow it.”

“I am not asking you, Captain. I am telling you.”

“But Sir Forelli specifically ordered me not to—”

I drew close enough to be nose to nose with him. “If Sir Forelli dies while I was here, arguing with you, I shall never forgive you, Captain. Now assign all the knights you need to give me adequate company. Or I shall be away on my own.”

Turning on my heel, I strode into the castello, my heart pounding. I knew it was extremely dangerous, to head out. And there was no way I’d do it alone. But I couldn’t just sit here. Not when I could do something to aid my husband! It was something,
something
I could do to fight back the dragon that suddenly threatened to steal my joy from every angle possible—my sister, my father, my husband…

I got to the quarters I shared with Luca and hurriedly tucked my braided hair beneath a scarf and donned leggings and tunic—intent on masquerading as a man, hoping to be less of a target—then strapped on my quiver and arm guard, grabbing hold of my bow. I immediately felt stronger, more assured, armed. More She-Wolfy.

I turned and latched the door when I saw him. The dog, Gordo, on his side in the corridor, panting. Swallowing hard, I went to him, knelt and touched him. His nose was dry and hot. He was listless, not even raising his head when he saw me, only whimpering. I rose, closed my eyes, and went to the guard at the turret door. “The dog back there,” I said with a strangled voice, gesturing over my shoulder, “is sick. See to it that he is put down and his body burned in the pits. Burn the gloves you use to carry him.”

“Yes, m’lady,” the knight said, face impassive, more interested in my curious manner of dress. To most in this time, animals were a nuisance, seldom beloved pets. Sick animals were put down without a thought. And in these years, that accounted for many. What was one more?

I trudged on, focusing on Luca and Marcello, refusing to give in to the tears that threatened to take me down. We’d already lost the cats and two other dogs to plague. Now, Gordo, my favorite. He was still the pudgy puppy in my mind that he was when we first saw him in Venice. The animals had likely spared us from infection for some time, keeping the castello free of rodents. But now the last had fallen victim.

It was all so wretchedly unfair. I wanted to shake my fist at God and shout, “Enough! Enough, already!” Inwardly, I did so, then freaked out, worried that God would then take my dad for sure to show me who was Boss.

But Father Tomas’s words came back to me.
“God is all about life, not death. Death is his enemy’s domain.”

The enemy had taken Tomas and Adela. Our friends and neighbors. Luca and Marcello’s blood brothers. Now, even, our last pet. I knew that Mom hadn’t bought them as pets…they’d been meant as defense. But a girl couldn’t just say no to puppy-dog eyes. And Gordo’s eyes, and his dark black spots and curly fur…My breath caught.

I wouldn’t cry. I refused to cry.

It wasn’t the dog. It was everything.

Luca. I needed to focus on Luca.

But when I got to the courtyard, Gabi stood in my path. She was looking pale and scared, her hand against her abdomen. “Lia,” she said, her mouth a grimace, “where is everyone?”

 “Here, sit down,” I said, grabbing hold of her elbow and ushering her to a stone bench. “You should not have left your bed.”

She searched me. “You are prepared for battle,” she whispered. “What is it? What has happened?”

“Gabi…Dad’s sick.” I paused a moment, letting her digest that. “And Marcello and Luca—they went to the tomb to get what Mom hopes was medicine, left by Orazio and Galileo.”

“Orazio! Galileo?” Understanding dawned. The promise they’d made to Mom…the one we’d caught wind of, but didn’t know the details about. “And now?”

“They are surrounded. I am going to aid in breaking through the line of Fiorentini who keep them from us.”

“No, Lia, you can’t.”

I rose, unwilling to spend a moment longer in argument. “Don’t you see? It’s the only way. To save our husbands. Our dad.”

“I’ll go with you,” she said, struggling to rise, her lips parting in a pained gasp.

“No. You won’t. This time it has to be me, Gabs. Alone. Go help Mom and Dad, if you’re up to it. If we don’t get back…” My voice cracked, and I hurriedly wiped away the tears. “I don’t think Dad has long.” I bent and kissed her cheek. “I love you.”

And with that, I ran to the gelding, his reins in the hands of a squire, mounted, and rode out the gates of Castello Forelli to bring back my husband, and hopefully, medicine that would save my dad.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

~EVANGELIA~

Captain Pezzati sent Otello, Matteo and Falito with me, along with ten other knights. With the twenty-four that had gone ahead of us, I felt reasonably confident that we could approach the line of fighting and find out what was happening.

I was wrong.

Twilight—which came and went quickly in the winter months—was upon us. Smoke still hung in the air, making it even more difficult to see. But we could all soon figure out what was going on…Marcello and Luca had run into the Grecos and some others, and together, they were surrounded. We’d passed the majority of Sienese and Fiorenti fighters to our west—hundreds of men—which were keeping Sienese reinforcements from helping our guys. And our guys were in desperate need of help.

It was up to us. And we were outnumbered two to one.

“We need to get them out of there,” I said to Otello, watching as Marcello moved woodenly, striking out and dodging swords, but plainly exhausted. Where was Luca?

“Follow me,” said the big man, the most senior knight in our patrols. He turned to the others. “We are the thirteen that are going to make a way for Lord and Captain Forelli to make their way out, understood? We shall create a funnel, and then a barrier, through which they shall escape. Follow our lead.”

He trotted forward, half hunched over. “Matteo, stay with the lady at all times. Work together with her. Falito, never leave their side. I’ll do my best to be on the other one.”

The other men agreed.

I thought we’d likely stop somewhere and find our best entry point, but either Otello had already found it, or just decided that any place was as good as another. We paused only for him to gesture toward the backs of a group of twelve Fiorentini, and Matteo and I let our arrows fly, killing four before our men were cutting down others and then holding back more that moved toward us, alerted by the new line of conflict.

Matteo and I stood back to back, our attention roving from resisting the new attacks on either side to taking down those who still were bent on killing our people within the surrounded circle. Our men attacked from two other angles of the circle as well, distracting the enemy, and now I could see why Otello had chosen this third spot. It was the thinnest. But there were still a good eight men who kept us from rescuing our own, and more on the run from either side. Still more were behind them, redoubling their efforts to kill our men, Rodolfo and Alessandra.

I dispatched arrow after arrow, most finding their marks, when I wasn’t jostled or pushed or pulled or stumbling over rocks in the swiftly falling darkness. But we were making progress.

The way opened, and our group pushed to either side, leaving a path of escape for Luca and the rest. But they were still pinned down inside. I took out or wounded three men as I ran toward him. He caught sight of me, did a double-take and faltered. Only Alessandra’s scream, and Rodolfo’s sword, kept him from being impaled by another Fiorentini.

I killed a man who was then, in turn, about to kill Rodolfo, and wounded another moving to grab Alessandra. Matteo, at my side, shot an archer out of a tree. “Well done,” I muttered, having wondered where the arrows were coming from.

“Fine work yourself, m’lady,” he said with a grin.

Two men came at us, screaming with a guttural cry, swords raised. We didn’t have time to get arrows off, but Otello and Falito were there. “Down,” Otello grunted, and together Matteo and I ducked, letting the knights jump across our backs to meet those who attacked.

I felt an arm go around my neck and I was dragged back, Matteo advancing immediately, an arrow drawn tight across his bow. I drew my dagger and then wrenched my head to the right, giving Matteo his target, and heard the disgusting sound of an arrow entering my attacker’s eye socket. I rammed my dagger into his belly, below his breastplate, even as I turned. I could feel the warmth of his blood on my neck and swallowed the vomit that rose in my throat.

“Are you all right, m’lady?” Matteo asked, taking my arm as I gasped for breath.

“Yes, thank you, friend.”

But he was already turning halfway, firing an arrow. Then another. I swallowed hard, forced myself to draw an arrow, and then was tackled by a large man.

“Lia!” I heard Luca call, but it was from far-off. I gasped for air, thought briefly about the baby. The man had knocked the wind out of me. He rose, and I tried to roll, aware that I had to keep moving—even if I couldn’t breathe—that he was raising his sword, bringing it around to cut off my head.