The Boy Who Wept Blood (32 page)

58

A Rising Storm
–
30 Agosto
325

Dino woke on a narrow cot in a spartan chamber, the walls plastered and whitewashed. A small figurine of a woman holding a child stood on the bedside cabinet: Santa Maria calm and kind in white marble. A candle as thick as his wrist burned with a pleasing steady light. His fingers traced the edges of bandages tightly wrapped; blankets smothered his body with gentle warmth. Simple unbleached cloth adorned the bed. There was no trace of extravagance, nor was there any dirt; someone had kept the room fastidiously clean. Each breath brought the tiniest hint of lavender.

Memories returned in flashes. Being bathed in clean water and scrubbed by a trio of veiled women, then a sharp pain he could not escape as they stitched him together and drowsiness as a preparation did its work, lulling him to sleep. And through it all the presence of Stephania, anxiety evident on her face, mouth a trembling line beset by anguish. She had refused to let it take her over – not while he remained conscious anyway.

Dino shifted onto his unwounded side, curling up into a ball. His entire body ached, heavy like a composite of granite and lead, like a gargoyle from the rooftop of the
sanatorio
. He wondered if Marchetti had died in the waters of the oubliette. Perhaps he was still down there, unable to remember himself or the way out.

A face appeared in the doorway.

‘I’m awake,’ he croaked, throat raw.

‘Good. It’s night again. We should try and slip away before dawn.’ Stephania sounded tired, but there was resolve in her voice. Her red-rimmed eyes showed her sadness at leaving.

‘Where are we?’

‘The chapel of Santa Maria. They found the tunnel when they dug the foundations for the courtyard. A larger church will be built in a year.’

Dino grunted and pushed himself up onto his elbows. ‘I suppose you found this out from your pet disciple?’

‘She’s not my pet. But if she hadn’t told me about the tunnel we’d still be trapped beneath Demesne.’

‘I still don’t like it.’

‘Your feelings on the Sisters of Santa Maria are well known. You should probably show some gratitude though. They saved your life.’

‘I think that accolade goes to you.’

She shrugged, forcing a pouting smile, a ghost of her old self returning.

‘When did you decide?’ He gestured toward the figurine on the nightstand.

‘That I believed?’ She folded her arms and looked downcast.

He nodded and regretted asking her.

‘I’m not sure,’ she said after a pause. ‘The idea of an infinitely kind and maternal divine being is an attractive one.’ A sad smile overtook her. ‘Especially with a mother like mine.’

‘Salvaza may have her faults but she did charge me with escorting you to safety.’

Stephania shrugged, unable to accept her mother’s good deed. ‘That’s worked out really well, wouldn’t you say?’

‘It’s all going to plan perfectly, you know?’ Dino grinned.

Stephania returned the smile before her eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t you ever wonder about your mother? Who she was, if she might have survived.’

‘I try not to.’ He sat up straighter and grimaced. ‘We’ll need new clothes,’ he said, keen to change the subject. ‘Every Myrmidon in Demesne is going to be looking for two House Prospero messengers.’

‘I’ve already thought of that. I’m going to dress as a Sister of the San Marino convent. They’re under the protection of Lucien. The Domina wouldn’t dare interfere.’

‘There’s another order?’

‘The Sisters are more popular in San Marino than they are here.’

‘Maybe I don’t want to go there after all.’ He sat right up and shuffled around until his feet were on the floor. ‘So do I get to dress in a veil and wimple too?’

‘If you like –’ Stephania suppressed her mirth ‘– but it’s probably best you ride with me as a man. Even the Sisters have armed escorts.’

New britches, boots, a shirt and a leather jerkin waited for him on a wooden chair at the foot of the bed. His sword rested in its scabbard, now battered, the enamel chipped. Dino identified with it all too readily.

‘Resourceful these Sisters of yours.’

‘They are, and there’s more. Come on.
Avanti
.’ She left.

He dressed. His body foreign to him, each movement a trial of discomfort, a test of pain. Pulling on the clothes elicited some choice expletives before Stephania thrust her head into the room.

‘You are on consecrated ground, you know.’

‘If Santa Maria is so forgiving she won’t mind some off-colour language.’

‘Dino.’

Stephania scowled. He shrugged, then winced. ‘I’ll be out in a minute.’

The clothes fitted, more or less. The boots were a pair of his own, although how anyone had got into his apartment to retrieve them he could only guess at. He attached the sword to the belt, and it was then he noticed the drake-headed pommel had been polished. They’d gone to a lot of trouble. He turned, eyeing the marble figurine.

‘Sorry about the profanity.’

He paused. With one deft motion he swept the figurine from the cabinet, slipping it inside his jerkin.

‘No reason you have to stay here with these boring Sisters.’

The figurine said nothing, which Dino took as a mark of consent.

The antechamber to his room was bathed in candlelight from two candelabra, each bearing a half-dozen candles. Stephania was engaged in conversation with Agostina, Achilles perched on one shoulder, as stern and unblinking as Dino remembered.

‘I see you’ve stolen my drake.’

‘He’s clung to me all day, even dozed with me.’

Dino extended a hand to the reptile, traced his brow with a finger.

‘After all I’ve done for you, and you leave me the minute a pretty girl shows interest.’

Dino nodded to Agostina, who bobbed a curtsy in return, her mismatched eyes unnerving even now. ‘My lord.’

‘I’m not sure I’m lord of anything any more, so you can dispense with the formalities.’

‘You will always be a lord in my eyes,’ she replied. ‘You saved Stephania and myself during the raid in the piazza.’

‘Massimo saved you,’ he reminded her.

‘Because you asked him to.’

‘What will you do now?’ he asked the Sister.

‘The same as we have ever done; the people need us now more than ever. Taxes creep up, working hours are long, and I don’t expect much help from our ruler.’

‘She’s lost to us.’ There could be no mistaking the bitterness in his voice. ‘Corrupted by Erebus and Marchetti.’ He cleared his throat and looked away. ‘I don’t know if there’s anything left of the Anea I used to know.’

‘It can’t be helped,’ said the disciple. ‘In the meantime, these are yours for the road ahead.’ She turned and proffered a thick riding cloak. Saddlebags packed with food lay on the table beside her.

‘This is excellent,’ Dino said.

Stephania smiled. ‘I called in a few favours with people I know I can trust.’

‘Risky –’ Dino regarded the supplies ‘– but preferable to eating anything from the Foresta Vecchia.’

Stephania had changed into the white robes of the order, olive-green wimple denoting her membership of the San Marino branch. The disguise was undermined by the cataphract drake perching on her shoulder, but Landfall had seen stranger sights than this. Stephania completed her outfit with a white veil.

‘My lord.’ The disciple crossed the room, gesturing with an open hand to a large sword secured to the wall. ‘We would be honoured if you would take this with you. It was stored in a crate beneath Demesne for many years.’

‘I’m not surprised. It looks antique.’

‘Dino,’ chided Stephania. He approached the sword, masking his disdain with winces from his wounds. The blade had been sharpened, polished to a mirror finish. There was blue tint to the steel.

‘The Sisters are keen that you take it,’ said Stephania.

‘Fine.’ He pulled the blade down from the wall, taking a second to become familiar with the heft of the two-handed sword. It wasn’t as tall as him, but it wasn’t far off either. The weight was prodigious. ‘I’ll take it, if it will spare their feelings.’

‘It’s the sword of a templar,’ added Agostina.

‘I’ll take the gift but leave the title if I may. I’m still smarting from the fact I’m not
superiore
any more.’

Stephania shook her head and pursed her lips. Dino indicated the door, thinking it best to leave before he caused any further offence.

Outside the chapel three Sisters waited for them. Spots of rain fell from the sky, few at first and then with greater frequency. Dino mumbled his thanks to the robed women and earned himself another sharp look from Stephania. A pair of fine roan horses had been acquired and were saddled. Lightning flashed in the distance, a single column of light like a jagged lance thrust into the horizon. Dino took a moment to stare, waiting for the roll of thunder to rumble toward them. The rain increased and Dino cast his gaze over Santa Maria. Demesne loomed over the townhouses, a behemoth threatening to crush everything beneath its careless feet. The Orfano pulled his hood up and shivered. Stephania mounted her horse with the help of some wooden steps.

‘Are you going to stand there all night?’ asked Stephania.

‘We’re really leaving, aren’t we?’ Reluctance weighted each word.

She gave a tight nod and looked away.

‘I was supposed to save Anea.’

‘I know,’ soothed Stephania, ‘but you can’t save people from themselves. She’s taken a different path. And besides, you’ve saved me.’

Dino mounted his horse like an old man, fearing his stitches would come apart. The bandages held fast, a reassuring tightness around his gut. He’d laced the leather jerkin as tightly as he dared. Stephania spoke her thanks to the Sisters, who signalled back with their hands.

‘They’ve learned the silent language?’ he asked with a curt nod toward the veiled women.

‘They’ve taken a vow of silence,’ supplied the disciple. Dino struggled not to curl his lip. ‘They’re saying some Myrmidons left Demesne through the triumphal arch just a few minutes ago.

Dino and Stephania put their heels to the horses’ sides and set off at gentle walk. A deep hush covered the town, broken only by the pattering of the rain and the susurrus of trees yet to lose their leaves. The coming autumn would finish what the drought had started. The distant green of the spring was a cherished memory. A few of the townhouses were boarded up. Dino guessed they were owned by
cittadini
who had fled following the riots. The horses continued, the clatter and ring of their hooves loud in the silence of the night. It was inevitable they would attract attention; even thunder could not mask the noise of their departure. The edge of the town was lit by braziers and the odd torch held aloft by a Myrmidon. Dino knew the outline of them in the darkness all too well.

‘This doesn’t look good.’

‘When does it?’ asked Stephania.

‘So much for not interfering with a Sister of the San Marino branch.’

‘Shut up, Dino.’ Achilles hissed.

A Myrmidon commanded them to halt, hand held out. Dino counted twelve of them strung out in a loose line.

‘Just go,’ he whispered, the words sour on his tongue.

‘We can’t.’

‘Not we,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘You. You, just go.’

‘But Dino …’

‘Your mother told me to get you away from here. That’s what I’m doing.’ The two-handed sword came out of the sheath across his back. The dull scrape of the metal sounded strange to his ears, the weight unfamiliar in his hands, perfectly balanced for all that.

‘I’m not leaving you.’ The words were matter of fact but had no effect on the grim-faced Orfano.

‘Yes, you are. Take this with you.’ He handed her the drake-pommelled sword, silver flashing in the night. ‘Look after it, you know.’

‘Dino, come on …’

The Myrmidons had drawn closer, were almost upon them, halberds levelled. The majority had singled out Dino and the huge weight of metal that he held in his hands.

‘Just. Go. Stephania.’

She had no reply, her eyes locked on Dino’s. Another flash of lightning lit tears at the corners of her eyes. The rattle and boom followed a few seconds later, unsettling the Myrmidons baffled by the lone Orfano threatening violence. Dino slid from the saddle with a pained grunt, then raised the sword above his head.

‘Take my horse,’ he hissed from clenched teeth. The sword came down in a savage arc that rent a breastplate and everything under it.

‘Go now!’

Stephania took the reins to Dino’s steed and pressed her body low to her own mount, urging it on with coaxing whispers. The horses leapt a low fence, racing across a field until she met the road. Dino watched her leave with a bitter smile. The great sword rose again, promising a harvest of blood to all who approached. It was unthinkable he could defeat them all, even with such a weapon.

The Myrmidons closed in. Chaos erupted.

The nearest Myrmidon thrust in with his pole-arm, only to have the weapon smashed from his hands. Dino grinned and hefted the sword.

‘You stepped into my parlour. Fuckers.’

The blade fell, and rose again.

59

Correspondence
–
31 Agosto
325

Mother,

By the time you read this I will be many days on the road to San Marino. Days paid for with the blood of Lord Dino Adolfo Erudito. I should be thanking you for charging him with the mission to escort me from Demesne, but in truth I feel nothing but grief. He had such a torturous last few months of life. That he should lose so many friends and comrades is truly awful, and in no small part your responsibility. I have lost a dear friend, and Landfall is missing a noble protector. Think on that next time you begin your schemes.

Was there really no other way to defeat Anea’s wishes? Was aiding Duke Fontein’s coup necessary? Your complicity with Erebus has ushered in a dire period for Landfall. A decent person might try and redress that balance.

Despite his long opposition to you, Dino asked that I accept you wanted me safe, hence my writing this letter. I would not be writing it for any other reason. I am staying at the Terminus Inn on the road to San Marino. The two brothers that run the inn have regaled me with stories of the various persons who have stopped here, Margravio Contadino among them. I feel I’m treading in noble steps. The brothers assure me this note will find itself to Demesne, and to you, once I am safely away from here.

In time I hope you will make a similar journey, if only to escape Erebus. Dino was sure that Anea was only mad, not evil. Perhaps if you could remove Erebus she might be restored in some way, though that task sounds insuperable. Erebus is monstrous and has numberless minions in Demesne’s catacombs. I should know, I have seen them with my own eyes.

I do not expect to return. Please watch over Medea and the children – you owe them that much.

Your daughter,

Stephania