The Wind Dancer (40 page)

"Fleeing... "

"But of course. The disease couldn't be allowed to spread. Borgia and His Holiness were
afraid there would be an outcry if the disease were carried into another city." He smiled.
"I assured them that wouldn't happen, so I waited in the hills and when the scared rabbits
came streaming out of the city we eliminated them with a barrage of arrows. I had to be
careful to keep my men at a distance. Those who I find it necessary to bring close to the
plague will also have to be eliminated."

"But you're here now."

"Ah, but I'm not afraid of the disease." He rubbed his pitted cheek. "If I was meant to die
of any disease, the pox would have gotten me when I was a child and that Lady bitch
persuaded her husband to send my mother and me away from Mandara to a pox-ridden
village. No, I was spared to do great things, to lead armies, to create kingdoms."

Sanchia shook her head. "You'll die here, like all the rest. Everyone dies here."

For a moment an expression of uneasiness crossed Damari's face because of the certainty
in her tone. "Not me. I have another fate awaiting me." He gave a final tug to the rope
and swung onto the saddle. "Do you smell the smoke yet?"

"No."

"I do." He lifted his head and sniffed. "I set fire to the castle and to the gardens. My men
are torching the city now. Another precaution His Holiness insisted on my taking.
Naturally, we torched the village of Fontana after we took the boy from the charnel
house."

"Lion... "

"You're wondering why I let Andreas leave when he too might have become infected?"
He shrugged. "I had to accept the risk. I had to draw his forces away so I could be sure of
walking into the castle unopposed. If he does carry the plague elsewhere, we'll merely
put out a story that he fled in terror from the disease and it was his fault the sickness was
brought to more innocents." He smiled. "I will, of course, now proceed back to Solinari
and dispose of him at my leisure."

As he gazed down at her a flicker of regret passed over his face. "I'd really like to take
you with me. I quite enjoyed our time together in the dungeon. It's not often that one runs
across a woman with the courage and endurance you possess. I had promised myself
another such experience after Andreas took you from me." He shook his head. "Too bad.
But Borgia would be most irate if he learned I'd let anyone live who knew of his and his
father's involvement."

"You're going to kill me?"

"I've already Killed you," Damari said. "I was merely considering resurrecting you for a
few day's amusement. Good-bye, Sanchia. If you're fortunate, the fire may end your life
before the plague does. I hear the plague gives a very painful death."

"Yes." She closed her eyes again, trying not to see the pictures his words brought to
mind. "Yes, it's very painful."

She heard the clatter of Damari's horse's hooves on the flagstones as he left the courtyard.
A moment later the first acrid wisp of smoke drifted to her nostrils.

They came upon the first dead seven miles from Mandara.

Lion looked down at the body of a child of perhaps eight years crumpled in the road
beside a wagon. An arrow had pierced her narrow chest, pinning her to the wood of the
wagon wheel.

Lorenzo reined in beside him. "A man, a woman, and two more children are lying farther
down the road."

"Arrows?"

Lorenzo nodded. "The wagon is piled high with furniture and household goods. It looks
as though everything was tossed into the wagon with great speed. They obviously left the
city in a hurry with no intention of returning."

"And were waylaid and murdered." Lion looked away from the child lying against the
wagon wheel. "Women and children too. Nothing appears to have been stolen. Why
would they have been murdered?"

"Shall I order them buried?"

"No." Lion turned his horse. "Later. We have to find out why they were running from
Mandara. Hurry."

They came upon two more bodies a mile down the road and then an entire family
butchered a quarter of a mile farther. After that, Lion stopped counting the dead that
littered the road and gullies and spurred on toward Mandara.

They first saw the glow lighting the night sky as they left the foothills.

Lion heard Lorenzo's harsh imprecation but couldn't tear his gaze from the macabre,
obscene beauty of the sight before him.

"Mandara." Lorenzo gazed stonily at the burning city in the distance.

Lion heard the shocked murmur of the men riding behind him. They had wives, friends,
families in that inferno just as he did, he thought dully. Sanchia, his mother, Marco,
Bianca...

"Caterina," Lorenzo said hoarsely. "There have to be prisoners."

Lion felt a spring of hope. Lorenzo was right. None of them had to be in the burning city.
He spurred forward and put Tabron into a dead run.

"Lion," Lorenzo shouted above the thunder of the horse's hooves. "If it was Damari,
where's the condotti?"

The same thing was bothering Lion. On this level plain the torches and movement of an
attacking army should clearly be visible. There was nothing. No army. No horses. No
catapults or other war machines. Nothing.

Nothing but Mandara being devoured by flames.

Lion saw Sanchia when they were within three miles of the city.

She was plodding slowly, blindly down the road and, if the illumination from the burning
Mandara had not lit the countryside with unusual clarity, the troop would have ridden her
into the ground.

"Sanchia!" Lion held up his hand to halt the troop and reined in Tabron. "Dio, what's
happened here?"

She didn't seem to hear him. She Kept walking, her gaze fixed on something he couldn't
see. Her brown velvet gown was torn, filthy, her hair a wild tangle of grease and soot.

"Sanchia." Lion dismounted and strode toward her. "Are you hurt?"

She kept plodding forward.

Lion stopped before her and grasped her shoulders. "Santa Maria, answer me. Are you
hurt?"

Her blank gaze finally focused on his face. "Lion?" she whispered. "I thought you were
dead. I thought everyone was dead but Damari. It's not right that he should live, you
know. He shouldn't be allowed to live when everyone else in the world is dead."

"Everyone isn't dead, Sanchia. You're alive."

She looked at him in wonder. "No, I'm not. Damari killed me just as he did everyone else.
Caterina, Marco, Piero, Bianca."

Agony tore through him as his gaze went over her head to Mandara. "All dead?"

"Of course," she said, surprised that he should ask. "Everyone is dead."

He felt the tears sting his eyes even as he shook her. "You're
not
dead, Sanchia. We're
both alive."

"That's right, you're alive. You told me." She suddenly stiffened, her eyes going wide
with horror. "No!" She tore out of his grasp and backed away. "Don't touch me. Are you
mad? The plague... "

Lion went icy cold. "Plague? You said Damari, Sanchia."

But she had turned and was running wildly back toward Mandara, the skirts of her
tattered gown flying behind her.

Lion pounded after her. "Cristo, Sanchia. Stop. No one is going to hurt you." He drew
even with her and grabbed her in his arms. "Sanchia
cara
--"

"You don't understand." She was struggling desperately to free herself. "I'll kill you. I
don't want to kill you. Only Damari. Let me go!"

The tears were now running unashamedly down Lion's cheeks. "Cara, no... " He drew her
closer, his hands feverishly stroking her sooty hair. "Shh... "

She abruptly gave up, slumping against him. "It's too late anyway. You've touched me.
Even Damari was afraid to touch me. Medusa... "

He caught her as she swayed, collapsing into unconsciousness.

The bitter odor of smoke was gone. Now the air was pervaded with the odor of wood and
something fruity, yet musty.

Sanchia opened her eyes to see Lion bending over her, bathing her forehead. Dusk
enveloped them. The only light piercing the dimness was the sunlight pouring through
two small windows high above her. Dust motes danced in the dual brilliant streams of
sunlight and she gazed at them in dreamy fascination.

Two dancing sunbeams...

Lorenzo had said that about Bianca and Marco, hadn't he? But those sunbeams were no
longer dancing; they lay still and quiet in the chapel.

But was there a chapel? Would the stone have withstood the heat of the flames that
engulfed Mandara?

"Fire... " Her throat was raw, and it hurt to speak. Had she been screaming? She had felt
the screams welling up inside her, but she believed she had kept them from coming out.

"No more fire, Sanchia," Lion said gently. "You're not in Mandara any longer."

"Where?"

"The winery." He smoothed the damp cloth on her temples. "You remember the winery?"

"Yes." She looked around and could discern the shadowy outline of a huge wooden vat
and oak casks in the dimness.

"Keep covered. It's cool here." He pulled the blanket over her and she suddenly became
aware she was nude beneath it.

Lion was without clothes, too, she realized in bewilderment. Strange.

"Do you know who I am?" Lion asked.

"Lion."

Relief lightened his expression. "And what happened at Mandara?"

How could she forget? How could anyone forget. "Plague." She was suddenly jarred into
full wakefulness. "Get away from me!" She sat upright and tried to slide farther from
him. "Plague!"

"Be easy. I've been with you here for over a week." Lion said gently. "If I'm fated to fall
to the disease then I'm already infected."

She looked at him, stricken. "A week?" She closed her eyes. "Dear God, why?"

"Why did you stay in Mandara to care for those I loved?"

"I was there."

"And I am here. Open your eyes and look at me, Sanchia. Do I appear ill or racked with
the disease?"

She opened her eyes. He looked strong and vigorous in spite of the lines of weariness and
sorrow she saw in his face. "Sometimes it doesn't happen right away."

"And sometimes it doesn't happen at all. Was everyone stricken in Mandara?"

"It seemed as if they were." She shook her head in confusion. "There were a few that
were not ill but, as I said, sometimes it takes more time for one or the other. I don't know
if any lived or not."

"I think it likely some survived, if the fire didn't kill them."

The fire. "Damari and his men set the fire. I watched him do it but I couldn't seem to
move. Then it came to me that if Damari lived, he could do this again. I couldn't let him
repeat such a monstrous act. So many died... Did I tell you about Piero?"

"Yes, you told me everything." Lion's eyes glittered brightly in the dimness of the room.
"You raved and ranted until I thought I could not bear to hear any more. I believed you
would very likely go mad."

"Perhaps I did. I keep seeing--"

"No," he said fiercely. "You will heal in mind and you will heal in body. I will not lose
you, too. Do you hear me? You will heal!"

The passionate force of his voice almost convinced her he could hold both death and
madness at bay. Poor Lion. He had lost so much. His family. His ships. His home.

She had thought she was incapable of feeling ever again, but to her surprise she felt a
faint stirring within her. She looked away from him. "Why do we have no clothing?"

"I burned the clothes you were wearing and the ones I had on when I found you."

When she looked at him inquiringly, he shrugged. "It seemed a good idea at the time. I
know nothing about plague." He paused. "I bathed us both in hot water every day and
clothing would have just gotten in the way. It seemed a sensible precaution to take. When
you swooned I told Lorenzo and the men not to come near us and brought you here to the
winery. They're encamped beyond the vineyard. Lorenzo comes every day with fresh
food and water and sets it outside the door." He nodded at a pile of blankets against the
wall. "I've boiled those blankets and dried them in the sun. If you like, I suppose I could
fashion you something to wear from one of them."

"Soon." She felt no discomfort in either Lion's nudity or her own. More than her clothing
had been stripped from her in the past weeks. "How long are we to remain here?"

"Another week. Then, if neither of us falls ill, it will be reasonable to assume you did not
carry the plague."

"Reasonable." She looked at him and found herself suddenly shaking. "There's no reason
or justice connected with that monster. It strikes the good, the innocent, the strong.
Caterina--" She choked back a sob. "Forgive me. I know it must hurt to have me speak
of her. She was your mother, and she--"

"Hush." He was suddenly holding her in his arms, his fingers tangled in her hair as he
rocked her back and forth in an agony of sympathy. "I know she was not kind to you. She
meant well--"

"No, you don't understand," Sanchia whispered. "I loved her, too. We became so close
those last days that when she died it was almost like losing Piero again. I loved her."

"I wish I had said good-bye to them," Lion said hoarsely. "I should have taken the time to
say good-bye. If I had known--"

Sanchia felt something warm and wet on her temple. If. The eternal word of regret.
Sanchia's arms slowly went around his shoulders to comfort as well as take comfort.
Caterina had said something about regrets that she must think about and then share with
Lion and Lorenzo. But not now. The pain was too fresh and new. Later there would be
time enough.

Why, she was thinking about the future, she realized with astonishment. Perhaps she was
beginning to believe that Lion could in some magical way keep the Medusa from taking
them both.

But she must not let her hopes rise, for that was another way the Medusa tricked and
deceived, giving a little only to take away all. Sanchia would not allow herself to hope
until she was sure the monster had passed them by and would not look over its shoulder
to smite them down.