So it went, around and around.
At dawn, I went to bed and dreamed of home.
It was another full day before the D'Angeline delegation returned. Every hour that passed seemed to drag into eternity. I was impatient; impatient at waiting, impatient at not knowing, impatient at being trapped in Lucca. The day wore on endlessly. I'd risen after a few hours of sleep and spent my time pacing the city, pestering the sentries for word. There was some activity at the river no one could make out, but the D'Angeline company showed no sign of movement.
Indeed, the only thing of note to occur that day was that I discovered Canis had been released. He was part of a group of conscripts laboring at the entrance of the aqueduct, hauling dirt and stones to reinforce its blockage, Gallus Tadius having determined it was a point of vulnerability. Rising water in the moat was trickling past the broken sluice gates and the millstone. Lucca's walls were too sturdy and well-defended to be easily breached by sappers, but if Valpetra was minded to try, that was the place he'd pick.
Canis sported a few fresh bruises and a red armband, already grimy from his labor. He gave me a covert grin when no one was looking. I had a nearly overpowering urge to grab him by the scruff of the neck and shake the truth out of him. Since it was highly unlikely to work, I merely shook my head at him and kept walking.
At least he was free of the gaol. Whatever else he was about, it was his own doing. I reckoned my conscience was clear on that score.
Another night.
Another endless round of patrolling.
This time, the distant sound of horns awoke me. Either Valpetra was launching a new attack or the D'Angelines were returning. I rolled out of bed and dragged on my boots and sword-belt without bothering to wait for word.
It was the D'Angeline delegation.
Gallus Tadius was already atop the wall engaged in a negotiation with Quentin LeClerc. I couldn't make out what they were saying and the guards wouldn't let me into the gatehouse until it was settled, which drove me half-mad. At length, one took pity on me.
"Your D'Angeline captain wants to enter the city," he said. "Seems he wants to talk to you in person."
Not for anything would Gallus Tadius open the gates of Lucca. It took the better part of an hour, with riders dashing back and forth to various sentry-points, before an accommodation was reached. The sentries confirmed that the bulk of Valpetra's army remained stationed across the river. The cavalry had taken up a position blocking the road almost a quarter of a league away. There they remained motionless. Gallus grudgingly agreed to lower a rope ladder and permit Quentin LeClerc and two men into Lucca, provided they came unarmed.
It was a considerable operation since the ladder had to stretch all the way across the moat, and by the time it was pegged into the ground, it was at a difficult angle. All I could hear were shouts and grunting, and a splash when someone fell off. I waited, breathing slowly and forcing myself to a state of composure.
At last, I caught a glimpse of Courcel blue. A pair of guardsmen helped LeClerc and his men atop the wall, while another pair stood by with swords drawn, ready to sever the ropes at the first indication that Valpetra's men were moving or the remainder of LeClerc's men attempted to scale the ladder. After the assault on the gatehouse, they weren't taking any chances.
But neither thing happened. The ladders was retrieved safely and LeClerc and his men were escorted through the tower and into the gatehouse square where I waited. All three of them bowed deeply. One was the embassy guard from before, the one who had remembered my stinking satchel of incense. None of them looked happy.
My heart sank. "He refused?"
"Not exactly." Quentin LeClerc glanced over at Gallus Tadius, who was lounging against the wall, arms folded over his chest. He was flanked by a pair of city guards. Their crossbows were cocked, and while they weren't aimed at the D'Angelines, the warning was clear. "Must we do this in public?"
I shrugged. "It's his city."
"So be it." LeClerc drew a deep breath. "Domenico Martelli, the Duke of Valpetra, maintains that his claim to Lucca is valid by right of marriage. He is willing to grant your highness mercy and allow you to leave… for a price."
"That's all?" I laughed, buoyant with relief. "Name of Elua, man! Why didn't you say so? Whatever it is, whatever markers Lady Denise has to call in to pay it, I'm sure the Queen will see her compensated. What does he want, the moon and stars?"
"No." He pointed. "Your left hand."
Chapter Fifty-Six
In the end, Gallus Tadius decided that LeClerc was in earnest and three unarmed D'Angelines represented no threat to Lucca, and allowed us to retreat to the villa for further discussion. We met in the grand salon, where the others might hear and give their counsel, for there were other issues at stake.
But in the matter of me, it was simple; Valpetra was adamant.
My hand, or nothing.
That was why the cavalry was waiting on the road. Once they'd severed my left hand, they'd allow me to pass. And once it was done, they'd return to Valpetra with their grisly token.
"I'm sorry, your highness." Quentin LeClerc's voice was strained. "I argued through two nights and a day with him, but he wouldn't hear reason. Not on this point." He took a sip of water. "He's a little mad, I think."
Claudia Fulvia leaned forward. "And the condottiere, Silvanus? He owes no allegiance to Valpetra beyond whatever spoils he and his men have been promised. Can he not be bribed?"
He shook his head. "My lady, believe me, I tried. He means to stand by the Duke until Lucca falls. They're all mad for war, and I don't quite know why." He glanced uneasily at the cup he held. "Something in the water, mayhap?"
None of us laughed. "What of the others?" I asked.
"Ah." LeClerc's expression eased. He cleared his throat and lifted his cup to his lips, then set it down untouched. "Yes. A touch of sanity, here. Valpetra's willing to barter, or at least Silvanus is and the Duke allowed it. They're willing to grant you"—he nodded at Deccus, Claudia, Brigitta, and Eamonn—"safe passage in exchange for the release of four of Silvanus' men."
"Excellent," Deccus said wryly. "All we have to do is convince Gallus Tadius."
"Lucius would do it," Claudia observed.
"Aye, but Lucius…" Eamonn sighed. LeClerc and his men looked at us with utter bewilderment. I explained to them about the mundus manes, the lemures, and the death-mask. It sounded mad when I said it, and they looked scarce less bewildered when I was done. Mayhap it was something in the water.
"Well, it's worth a try," Claudia murmured. "We'll speak to him. He seems to respect Deccus, and I was his sister, once. Or perhaps Mother can reach him." Her face was troubled. "I don't like to leave her."
"They'll only grant safe passage for a direct exchange," Quentin LeClerc said apologetically. "Four for four, and no Luccan citizens. I'm sorry, my lady." He gave her a halfhearted smile. "You're lucky to be Tiberian by marriage. I wouldn't mention your family ties if I were you."
Four for four…
I swore, remembering. "One's dead," I said grimly. "One of Silvanus' men. There are only three."
The others exchanged glances.
"I'll stay." Deccus Fulvius spoke without hesitation, taking Claudia's hand. "Let the young people go. It's not their battle. You know who to see in Tiberium, who to speak to?"
She nodded, still troubled.
"What about Imriel?" Eamonn asked.
Quentin LeClerc cleared his throat again. "Terre d'Ange will act, of course! Make no mistake. Only I fear it will take time. Our presence in Caerdicca Unitas is thin, and Lady Fleurais will have to rely on diplomacy to raise a sufficient force of allies."
"Hire a condottiere," I suggested.
"Yes." His eyes were a trifle glazed. "One such as Gallus Tadius would be ideal." He gave himself a shake. "We will act," he said firmly.
"But any course we take will take some time. The choice is yours, your highness."
I stood and paced restlessly around the salon, rubbing my left hand. Did I risk the uncertainty of waiting or take certain freedom and the loss of my hand? Not my sword hand, at least, I thought, remembering Gilot. I wished he was here. He always had sensible advice, even if I usually ignored it. I wondered what he would say.
"I'm staying."
"Eamonn," Brigitta breathed. "No!"
"What?" He shrugged. "Imriel's not about to let Valpetra lop his damned hand off. Lucca's got high, strong walls, plenty of water, food enough for weeks, and a mad genius in command of its defense, even if he is a dead man." He grinned at her. "You can help rescue us when the D'Angelines come. We'll be here."
It was the beginning of a lengthy argument. I led Quentin LeClerc and his men quietly out of the villa and escorted them back to the gatehouse. He agreed to report back to Valpetra and return on the morrow. Whatever was decided in the argument, there was still the matter of getting Gallus Tadius to agree to the exchange.
"Your mind's settled?" LeClerc asked me atop the wall.
"Yes." I rubbed my hand. "I'm staying."
Under the watchful eyes of Gallus' guards, the ladder was lowered and they made their precarious, swaying descent. The last to go was the one who had remembered me from the embassy. He laid a hand on my shoulder.
"Have a care, your highness," he said. "Valpetra's up to somewhat over at the river."
I frowned. "What?"
"He's got his men digging a trench." He pointed. "Over on the far side. I don't reckon you can get a good look at it from the wall. But I grew up in Siovale, and unless I miss my guess, he means to try and dam the river."
"Ah, well." I relaxed. "Mayhap no one told him Lucca's got deep wells."
He nodded. "All the same, have a care."
"My thanks." I bade him farewell, then watched as they departed.
The D'Angeline banners still fluttered brightly in the breeze, but they no longer carried any hope with them. The distant Valpetran cavalry began to move and the lieutenant in charge of the wall that afternoon ordered me down.
I went to find Gallus Tadius.