The Shades of Time (42 page)

Cursing, he
released Andreas to drop to the floor. The man looked up at him
with hooded eyes, a mixture of fear, respect and uncertainty
flashing across his narrow face. Staggering to his feet he rasped,
"Your brother knows the way."

Nico turned to
Paulo and said, "Go to his quarters and…" but stopped when Andreas
interrupted, "No! He is not there."

The air turned
sullen with a chill that cut to the bone. Nico looked at Andreas,
the man's face mirroring his own agony.

Andreas
stumbled back the way he had come. Nico hesitated an instant then
followed, his men taking up position behind him. In his head he
heard echoes of despair, but whether it came from the man in front
of him, or from the distant reaches of the castle he could not be
sure. He no longer had a clear sense of himself, tangled as he was
with realities that defied everything he knew and believed.

When he drew
even with Andreas, he asked, "Where is Stefano?"

"I saw him in
the banquet hall. He was to join Friedrich later." Andreas glanced
over his shoulder, then back at Nico. "There's a complication."

Nico ignored
the man and strode ahead, all rational thought driven away by the
clamoring in his skull. The clatter of well-armed men, their booted
feet lock-stepping on the hard floor, should have raised a warning
but he barreled forward, heedless of all but the driving need to
find his brother and his woman.

"Nico! Wait!
Friedrich's guards are in the banquet hall…" Andreas' words
vanished in a din of metal and muttered curses as the men behind
him shoved forward, swords drawn in readiness, leaving the small
man to cower in the corridor.

****

Nico wasn't
sure what to expect when he finally met his younger brother. He and
Stefano had been close, yet nowhere near as bonded as he'd been
with Tonio. Both older brothers had tormented and teased the boy
mercilessly, yet protected him with a fierceness borne out of love
and the respect due one of the blood.

Though it had
been months since he'd last talked with the young man, that
conversation still rang loud and clear in his head. He'd been
pitiless in his apparent disregard for the boy's wishes, reminding
him of family duty above all things. That he hadn't believed a word
of it meant nothing now. What he'd done was in the interest of
saving him from Antonio's wrath and from his father's stern
retribution. At the time how could he have known he was driving the
final nail into a coffin of Stefano's own design?

Praying he
could change the sneer of hostility into one of relief, he
approached the table and slid onto the bench, only vaguely aware of
his men taking defensive positions about the small hall.

Without
preamble he spoke in a low voice, pitched so that only Stefano
could hear, "Sit quietly and don't speak." Stefano gave him a blank
stare as if he did not recognize him. "I am here to take you home."
He noted his brother's hand twitching toward the short sword on his
hip, but reached across the table and pinned it to the rough wood.
"Listen to me, carefully. This is a mistake. You do not belong
here."

Stefano glanced
at the ballet of men circling for position, the tension ratcheting
all about them, yet over the two men glaring at each other, a pall
of silence hung heavy with accusation and unspoken threat.

His younger
brother's voice dripped with sarcasm, "You have no idea where I
belong."

"It's not here.
Whatever he's done to you, I will make it right. You have my
word."

Stefano leaned
across the table and hissed, "You're too late, Brother. I finally
know who and what I am. Taking me home will change nothing." He
locked eyes with Nico and said, "You wanted me to have purpose? You
and Tonio. Well, I'm pleased to inform you that you have finally
succeeded."

He sat back and
crossed his arms over his chest, his face no longer a reflection of
youthful naiveté and charm. Instead, his eyes bore testament to
depths of depravity and savagery Nico could barely imagine, yet
knew he must confront.

Time pressed
uncertainly, his awareness that he needed his brother's
co-operation but was unlikely to secure it without lengthy debate,
if at all, warred with his roiling gut and the sensation that all
this talking was for naught with Veluria in the hands of a
madman.

He was out of
time and out of patience. Pushing away from the table, he advanced
on Stefano and gripped his arm, yanking him unceremoniously from
the bench. Hissing, "Come with me. I have need of your
services."

Stefano jerked
away and shouted, "I'm not going home with you!"

"I don't recall
giving you a choice, boy." The deadly silence of a room full of
heavily armed men waiting for a signal settled like a pall.

"You and father
… and Tonio … you can all go to hell."

Nico set his
lips in a grim line and spat, "Tonio's dead."

Stefano
collapsed on the bench, his face a twisted mask of pain and
disbelief. As Nico counted off the precious seconds, hoping that
would shock his brother into changing his mind, he finally became
aware of movement behind him. The chink of swords and shuffling
feet alerted him to the danger his rash action had put them all in.
He needed to get his brother out of the hall and away from the
guards.

If he thought
Stefano would see the light he was sorely mistaken. The young man
said, "That changes nothing. Leave, Nicolo. There is nothing for
you here."

"Wrong answer, little brother. You
are
coming with me."

Once more he
grabbed Stefano's arm and pulled him up. With a nod at Paulo, he
hauled the struggling boy toward the door, taking care to keep his
brother's hand away from the sword sheathed at his waist. His men
formed a wall about them, creating a narrow passage of bodies
through which he dragged his squirming, cursing brother.

Paulo shouted,
"We'll hold them, sire," and turned into the fray.

Andreas met
them at the door, his brow creased with concern. "It took you long
enough. We must hurry."

Stefano
continued to hurl invective on his brother, landing blow after blow
until Nico was forced to pause to catch his breath.

"Listen, you
goddam fool. Friedrich has Veluria!"

"Wha—? Veluria?
Here?" He stared at Nico, then Andreas, who nodded assent.

The cleric
moaned and braced his hand against the wall. "He's hurting
her…"

Stefano
stuttered, "Why does he…? Where?"

"You would know
that better than us. We need to find him and get Veluria before he
hurts her," he choked out the word, "…more."

"I-I … uh, I
know where he is."

"Take us." Nico
pleaded, "You cared for her once. Please, Stefano, don't let him do
this to her." Holding his breath he waited a heartbeat for his
brother to decide his loyalties. He would do whatever was necessary
to force the boy to comply. He and his conscience would wrestle
with those consequences later, if he lived long enough.

Stefano weighed
his options and said, "Follow me."

"Will there be
guards?" Nico had to shout the words, the din from the hall echoing
through the corridor.

Stefano laughed
without mirth and pointed to the battle in the banquet hall, "There
will be."

****

Andreas held up
a hand and listened intently. Faint shouts came from behind a
doorway to their left. In front of them a corridor led to the newer
section of the castle.

Stefano
muttered, "Those are the Duke's private rooms. There's a passage
from there that leads to the interrogation chamber." He shrugged.
"There will be an army headed to protect Friedrich now."

With all the
duke's guards milling about, none of them could see any clear way
to access the chamber without fighting their way to it.

Nico murmured,
"I'm not leaving her," and moved into the hallway. Andreas gripped
his arm and pulled him back as Stefano muttered, "Wait." Irritated
he waved his sword toward the tall man, unable to bear the intense
pain crushing his chest any longer. Nico nodded his understanding,
his expression indicating he was not immune to the suffering
either.

Crouching low,
Stefano moved quickly toward a plain wood door hidden in an alcove
in the opposite direction of the milling guards. Depressing the
latch, he eased it open and motioned them to follow. Barely
shoulder-width the corridor ran the length of the Duke's chambers,
the few narrow slits admitting weak light to filter through,
leaving streaks of pale color on the dank grey stone floor.

Nervously,
Andreas wondered if anyone had found the Duke's daughter. He'd left
her body in a similar access tunnel. From the hubbub both in and
out of the duke's chamber, he suspected his dirty little secret was
a secret no more.

He hoped to
hell the Stefano brat knew where he was going. Veluria's essence
faded in and out the longer they trolled the godforsaken halls of
the castle. Whether or not they'd be in time to avert permanent
damage was problematic. That she would still be alive was not the
issue. The pervert would extend his pleasure as long as possible,
days if necessary.

Everything
rested on Nicolo de' Medici neutralizing the Duke. The young
brother was an annoying complication and one he would have
preferred not to deal with. All he could hope for was to salvage as
much of the timeline as possible. Without the Duke, he could not
predict what young Stefano would do. Assuming they all lived, would
he return with Nico to Florence, or would he exercise his rights as
bereaved consort and take the remaining daughter as his bride? He
wouldn't put it past the pup to jump on such an opportunity. He
was, after all, a Medici.

They exited
from the confined passage onto a landing that led down a steep
flight, disappearing into the gloom. Echoes of movement, an
occasional shout, indicated they would not be alone once they
reached the infamous chamber. Friedrich's guards would ensure their
master was undisturbed while he indulged his passions.

Once they
reached the lowest level, Nico took point and moved soundlessly
toward an open area from which the murmuring of voices could be
heard. Peering around the corner he held up four fingers, his body
tensed, ready to spring. Stefano drew him back and hissed, "Nico,
wait…"

The tall man
paused while Stefano asked him, "Can you fight, Father?" That
caught Nico's attention.

Andreas'
answered, "Well enough," but looked with regret at his tattered
robes and bare feet and knew in his heart he would not acquit
himself well on a field of battle. That was not his training or
inclination. Nico looked like he agreed.

He whispered to
Stefano, "Is the Duke's so-called prowess with a sword
accurate?"

Nico's brother
only nodded, leaving Andreas' stomach to flutter with anxiety.
There was no way he could handle the Duke, even motivated as he was
to save the Sisterhood's damn operative. He did none of them any
service by getting himself killed, least of all Matteo who he
feared would act rashly should he so carelessly lose his life. That
was not something his conscience, such as it was, was comfortable
carrying into the next life.

Stefano said,
"Go, Nico. I can handle him…" he flicked his head in the direction
of the locked door. "He'll let me in. I am, after all,
expected."

Nico looked like he wasn't sure he could trust his brother—and
God knew
he
certainly wasn't convinced the boy had changed his allegiance
so suddenly. The tall man asked the question Andreas was about to
voice, "That locks from the inside. If something happens to
you…?"

Stefano said, "There's another entrance," he waved off to the
left toward a dark alcove at the far end of the hallway. "Inside
you will find an opening covered with a tapestry. It's a tight
fit." He looked at Andreas with a measured stare.
"
You
will fit. I am
not sure about my brother."

Nico risked a
look at Andreas and shrugged. It had been quiet for too long now,
the absence of Veluria's pain almost worse than the unrelenting
agony they'd been suffering for what seemed like hours. They had
few choices remaining. Nico said, simply, "Go," and moved aside to
allow Stefano to move into the corridor.

Nico whispered,
"Go to the passage and see if what my brother says is true."

Andreas
breathed a yes while they listened to Stefano announce his presence
to the guards. For long, agonizing moments they waited while
Stefano directed two of the armed men to check out the stairwell
and keep watch for any of the Medici entourage. That left two
behind. Nico and Andreas exchanged a glance.

The duke
greeted the young man with pleasure, his words cut off when the
door shut with a resounding thud. Even from their remote location
they could hear the interior bolts being thrown.

Andreas
muttered, "There better damn well be another entrance." He turned
to Nico and asked, "What are you going to do?"

Nico gave him a
feral grin and said, "Even the odds."

Chapter
Thirty-Two

Nico would have
preferred not to have his targets split, the two men guarding the
door, the other two off on a stairwell he couldn't see from his
vantage point. While he appreciated Stefano's effort, in truth the
boy had never been much of a tactician when it came to fighting.
He'd been more likely to charm an opponent into joining him at a
tavern than defeating him in a show of strength.

Measuring the
heft of his sword, he appreciated the fine balance and honed edge.
Counting off the seconds, he gave the cleric enough time to scurry
out of sight. Sheathing his weapon, he boldly strode around the
corner and casually approached the startled men.