Lost in the City of Flowers (The Histories of Idan Book 1) (25 page)

“Why?”

“Because on the very off chance there is a grain of truth to what you say, it means you will leave me.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

“That and it would also mean I was wrong about Idan … and I hate to be wrong.” He smiled.

“You’re lucky you are holding the baby, otherwise I would throw you off this cart.”

“Guess I am a lucky guy,” he said, withdrawing his hand from Margherita to pick out the straw stuck to my hair.

“Have you thought of a plan?” I asked as the cart pulled into the courtyard.

“I have, but I hope it does not come to that. It is kind of a worst case scenario scheme.”

“Hope you are all hungry!” sung Nonna from the doorway. “Supper is ready.”

“I’m starving,” said Leonardo, passing Margherita to Ana.

Supper lay on a chunky wooden board placed at the center of the room. Stray droopy wallflowers decorated the table for the occasion. We spoke of Leonardo’s work on the
Baptism of Christ
and the tournament. I watched while they laughed at Leonardo’s comical rendering of the joust. We washed down the roasted chicken and vegetables with spring water or the table wine from the family’s vineyard. Leonardo agreed to a card game with his uncle while Nonna and I cleared the table.

“What beautiful hands,” she remarked as I passed her the dirty dishes. She placed them in the sink and took my hands in her own. I was wondering whether she was serious or not when she rubbed at my callouses and stared at my tinted cuticles. “You have artist’s hands.”

“People usually say piano hands.”

“What is a piano?”

“Oh … sorry, never mind.”

“Well, they are creative ones. May I show you something? Leave those plates there and grab that candlestick,” she said rushing out of the house. We turned the corner of the cottage and kept up our hurried pace heading for a square hut with a large chimney. “This is where I work.”

It was a modest space and the polar opposite of Antonio’s studio. Clumps of clay caked and splattered onto the walls. Wooden tools, worn rags, and broken scraps of ceramic covered the only table in the hut. The tiny space felt liberating.

“It’s a sanctuary,” I said, scanning the shelves of shallow bowls and miniature animals.

“I like to think so,” she said.

“It will be so hard to return to the city after being out here in the country. It feels so …”

“Free?” she suggested.

“Absolutely!”

“Are you sure there is not another reason you do not want to return other than the horrid stench and strict standards?”

“Is it that obvious?” I asked. She nodded, her long gray waves flying wildly about her face. “Although the reasons you gave are enough, there is something else.” I followed her out of the hut and under the star-stenciled sky. “I am running away from someone.”

“I realize I might be nothing to you but a silly old lady …” She turned to face me and her smile left. The aura of youth radiating from her disappeared. “May I be so presumptuous as to give you some advice?” I nodded. “It is natural to be scared, healthy even. It helps us survive. But as most things, too much is dangerous. My words of wisdom are to accept your fear. It will never go away, but you can harness it … Most importantly, do not let it hold you back here or anywhere,” she said before leaving me to the critters hiding from the moon’s light.

PART VI

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Late

“Wake up!” Someone hidden behind matted sandy hair shook me awake. The dreamy fog I had enjoyed all night slowly lifted. “Come on!” urged Leonardo, flailing his arms towards the door.

It took me a second to orient myself. I had spent the night in Nonna’s room. In the past, I might have felt strange about sleeping next to a stranger, but instead I felt safe. Nonna Caterina did not seem like someone I had only met the day before. I was comforted in the dark of night hearing someone breathing next to me. Her presence reminded me of the lullabies my grandmother would sing to me.

Leonardo was having a fit in the hallway, waving a bundle of clothes at me. I slid off the bed, snatched my shoes, and creaked across the wooden floor. “You took forever,” grumbled Leonardo as soon as the door closed behind me.

“What’s the problem? Is Ginerva here?”

“No.”

“Then why did you wake me up so early?” I scratched the sleep out of my eyes. “It’s still dark outside.”

“If we do not leave now we will not have time.”

“For what?” I asked, but he ignored my question by handing me clothes. “Whose are these?”

“They used to be mine but I have outgrown them.”

“Why do you want me to wear them?”

“Can I answer your questions later? Just put them on.” I shot him a suspicious look. “Please?”

“Turn around then.” I changed quickly hoping no one would come into the hallway. “I’m done.” Leonardo spun around.

“You look like you could be my brother.” He grinned.

“You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself,” I said, hiking up the green tights and straightening the black tunic.

I followed Leonardo down the stairs to the bottom floor, abandoning my underdress on one of the chairs. Leonardo had already ventured out into the brisk morning. Rosa sniffed at the meager grass that spotted the path down the hill and onto the road.

“Hurry up, you are so slow!” he said, straddling the horse.

“I just woke up!” I protested. He leaned forward to offer his arm. “It’s too high.”

“I've got you,” he said, grabbing me by the forearm while I pushed off my feet. What ensued was an awkward version of trying to get out of a swimming pool without taking the stairs, but it looked twice as stupid. Rosa was already walking down the lane by the time I regained my balance.

“I’m so sore.”

“You are such a wimp,” teased Leonardo, keeping his eyes on the uneven slope.

“Then you are a bully,” I snapped back. “Waking me up—”

My words were lost when Rosa sprang into a gallop. I threw my arms around Leonardo’s waist so as not to fall off the horse. We cut a trail through the thick air and damp mist. Using Leonardo’s back, I protected my face against the cold wind that whistled by. Once the Anchiano hamlet lay behind us, the grey twilight transcended into a new day. Up ahead was the foot of a valley. Jagged rocks and coarse thorny bushes collided around one of the low mountain’s base. Leonardo rode Rosa around the hill’s slope until we reached a small clearing. Once he had tied Rosa’s reins to one of the scrawny trees, he helped me down.

“Where are we?”

“A place I would often explore when I lived here,” he said, walking through the thicket. “Are you glad you did not wear a dress?”

“Yes!” I said, scaling the rocky route.

“It is just around the turn.” He sprinted ahead. Once I rounded the corner, I saw Leonardo standing in front of a gash in the hillside. The cave’s mouth was wide but its ceiling low. “I would walk here growing up. Often I would just stand here and stare for hours, terrified.”

“You? I thought you were only scared of breaking into houses.”

“Seriously, I was struck by fear, but I also had an overwhelming desire to go in. I imagined all sorts of terrible monsters lived within …Why are you looking at me with that face again?”

“Because that contradicts everything you ever told me.”

“How?”

“Have you ever seen, touched, or heard a monster?”

“You failed to understand my meaning. The key word I used was imagine.” He fussed with a branch, rock, and knife. “I have an active imagination.” Sparks caught to the scrap of fabric he had pulled from his cloak. Soon the branch burned a modest light. “Shall we?”

“After you,” I insisted.

He crouched down and through the opening. I followed close behind him and almost immediately the cave’s low rock ceiling transformed into a cavity of darkness. I stood up to chase Leonardo’s bright beacon.

“What do you think?” he echoed.

“It’s a great hiding place.”

“You could hide here until the Medici tire of you.”

“No … I don’t like bats,” I said, staring at the towers of guano.

“I would love to paint this one day,” he admitted, casting a glow over the sediment’s stepped surfaces.

“How would you do it?”

“Study it and use it in a landscape.”

“A landscape of what?”

“The only thing I am really allowed to paint … portraits or scenes from the Bible.”

“Why can’t you paint anything else?”

“I can paint whatever I want. But if I want to eat, I will need to stick to commissions.” Several rocks boasted curves where mossy plants fought to conquer them. “Does it happen to you that certain memories are so sharp that the rest are pale by comparison?”

“I have a few, and you?”

“This cave is one of the few vivid memories I have from my childhood.”

I tried to recall my earliest memory in the flickering darkness, but my conscious clung to the sound of our voices ricocheting off the rocks that rose in towers around us.

“I’m glad you shared it with me, then,” I said.

“Well, if you are not going to hide out here, we should head back.”

“Hopefully Ginerva will be there by now,” I said.

Rosa was stretching her neck impatiently when we found her at the clearing. The ride back was quiet. All of the freedom that the open country had given us gradually disappeared as we scaled back up the hill. Once we arrived at the house, all the pressure that we had left behind in Florence had resettled on our shoulders.

“Is breakfast ready?” asked Leonardo, walking through the door.

“Almost … Oh good, there you are, Viola. We thought you had vanished into thin air,” said Nonna, holding up my white underdress.

“Mamma, look what you have done!” said Zio, seated at his usual spot. “The girl has not even been here a full day and she is dressing like a boy.” Nonna gave me an approving look.

“That was my doing. It was more practical for what we were doing,” said Leonardo. “Ana, could I have four fried eggs?” She nodded at the hefty order.

“Did anyone come this morning?” I asked the busy room.

“Not a soul,” said Ana. “But Margherita only woke up twice.”

“That’s good?”

“Very! She is a peaceful babe.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad it wasn’t too much trouble for you then,” I said, attempting not to look as disappointed as I felt. “I’m going to go change just in case they come.” When I returned all three had gathered around the table waiting to slop their brown bread into the golden yolks.

“I am sorry you two could not stay longer.” Zio frowned.

“Me too.” I smiled.

“We will have to leave right after breakfast,” said Leonardo before folding the entire runny egg into his mouth.

“They’re not coming,” I said.

“I’m afraid that is true,” said Nonna. “If they were coming they would have been here at the crack of dawn to make sure they did not miss you.” I looked out at the sunny window, resigning myself to the failed mission.

“We can’t wait even a little longer?”

“If you want to be locked out of the city,” he said, refusing the cut of bacon his uncle waved in his face. “Anyway, do you not have an appointment at the Signoria?” Fluids and morsels gushed around my stomach as I tried to keep my food down.

“I am sorry, my dear. I wish we could take her on, she is such a lovely babe, but we just cannot,” said Nonna.

I politely finished the goat cheese left on my plate even though my appetite had left. I tried to delay our departure, but Leonardo had the horse packed and ready to ride within the hour. Before we walked outside, I paid Ana for all her help.

“I would say until we meet again, but I know that we will not,” said Nonna while she embraced me. “You have a good spirit … Let it shine freely.”

“You best be careful at the Signoria,” warned Zio, lifting Margherita and I up onto Rosa. “I heard they will stick anyone in that tower of theirs.” My heart skipped a beat. “Just joking.” He laughed.

“Well now that you have thoroughly spooked Viola, we will be off,” said Leonardo.

“Come back soon, my boy.”

“Nonna! I am hardly a boy anymore,” he said, nudging Rosa into gear.

“Arrivederci!” he yelled before we cantered out of sight.

The closer we came to Florence the more I would turn back to see if anyone was following us. Menacing clouds loomed above us as the number of outer city hovels and villages increased. Margherita’s milky breath warmed my skin. “You have a lovely family,” I said, breaking the stillness.

“They liked you too.”

“Really?”

“What a thing to say! Of course they did. What is not to like?”

“You are just being sweet because you know there is a troop of guards waiting outside Zia’s house.”

“No, I really think that. But it pains me to say that you are right about one thing.”

“Just one?”

“
Si
, you’re not going to make it to the Signoria by sunset. Which means—”

“I’ll be late,” I finished. As we ascended the road to the colossal doors of Porta Romana the wind bashed us and the overcast thickened. “I’m sorry, little lady,” I whispered to the woolen nook. “I failed you.”

“That is false,” said Leonardo in an unusually soft voice. “Her mother would understand.” The door was about to close when we rounded the last curve. “OY! Marco, wait!” The doors stopped.

“Cutting it too close, Leonardo,” whistled the guard. Despite his taunting, he looked relieved to see us. “Why did you lie to me?” he asked staring me straight in the eyes.

“About what?”

“Don’t peg me for a fool, Leo, you know exactly what.” He pointed to me.

“I am sorry, friend, it was an emergency … and we are back now, so no harm done, right?”

“Wrong,” he said, his nostrils flaring. “I had to lie to the most powerful man in Tuscany to cover your tracks. Almost pissed myself.”

“You were covering your tracks, too,” barked Leonardo. Marco’s mouth gaped as if he were about to say something awful.

“I’m so sorry, Marco,” I said. “It was for the baby that I left. I hope you aren’t in too much trouble.” His mouth closed and the furrow on his high forehead resided.

“And I hope you find your way out of trouble, young lady.”

“Me too.”

“Off with you then,” said the guard with a shooing motion. Leonardo jolted tired Rosa back in motion.

“Where are we off to?” asked Leonardo as we turned off the main street. “The Signoria or the Orphanage?”

“Neither. Let’s go to Zia’s.”

“You are sure?”

“Yeah, they’ll come and get me anyway. It doesn’t mean I have to make it easy for them.”

“As you say,” said Leonardo. It was not long before Rosa’s tired hooves resonated off the cobblestones of Via dei Benci. A lively fire gleamed through the curtains of Zia’s house. “I will go in with you.”

“You don’t have to,” I said.

“How else will you get down?”

“True.”

“Plus you should not have to face Zia alone.”

“Thanks, Leo,” I said as he helped me down. “Here it goes.” I knocked on the door. The scurry of footsteps from within gave me time to prepare myself to watch Zia’s hopeful face fade to disappointment.

“Buonasera,” said an unfamiliar voice. I looked up from my special cargo. A woman in her late twenties was standing authoritatively in Zia’s doorway.

“Where is Zia?”

“She is here,” said the woman, kindly glancing at my sling. She stepped away from the doorway to give us enough room to enter the steamy room.

“Oh my God.” I breathed when I noticed Antonio sitting at my chair by the kitchen table.

“Buonasera, Viola,” he stood up. Zia came out of the cupboard carrying a dusty bottle.

“Oh, my sweet child! I was so worried that the gate would be closed before you returned. It kept me up all night as I remembered after you left that I forgot to tell you about the curfew.” Even though she was sharing her worries, I could see that inside she was all lit up. She was not smiling but she radiated goodness.

“I’m sorry I worried you, Zia.”

“How is Margherita?”

“Sleeping,” I said, placing a protective hand over the sling. The wool cloth had rubbed away at my skin to the point that blood had started to ooze from my pores. My eyes lingered on the young woman with the raven hair. She stood away in the corner at a safe distance from me.

“Viola and Leonardo, this is my son-in-law, Antonio, and my daughter, Ginerva.”

“Why didn’t you come to meet me in Vinci?” I asked Antonio, ignoring Zia’s civil introduction.

“We didn’t know who you were,” said Antonio. “We came to talk to Zia and make sure this was not a trick.”

“It was not our intention to worry you,” added Ginerva. I was livid but I could not pinpoint why. She took a step closer to me. “I realize I have handled the situation poorly. No words can turn back time, but we have spoken and we will both try to fill the void that has grown between us for so long.”

“Just like that?” I said, locking eyes with the mysterious woman. Her black straight hair fell to her hips and matched the dark circles around her eyes.

“No, it will take time … I can understand your anger. You must think me an abominable person.”

“I wouldn’t put it in those exact words, but I’d rather see Margherita grow up in an orphanage than be with a family torn apart by grudges.”

“I agree. That is why we are moving back to Via dei Benci.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“You have brought us together again,” interjected Zia, grabbing hold of my hand.

“Ginerva didn’t make it easy for me,” I said, looking at the envelope on the table.

“That is for you,” said Zia, following my gaze.

“Who brought it?”

“A woman, but since she was veiled I could not tell who it was.” She shrugged.

I picked up the envelope. The crimson horse seal dripped sloppily down the envelope.

“Open up!” sounded the metal fist against wood. “Official Medici business!” The boom grew louder.

“Viola, what is this? What is wrong, my child?” a panicked Zia asked.

I broke the wax and unfolded the parchment. There was only one word on the page.

Run!