Turning the Storm (28 page)

Celia let go of me, and I took the opportunity to give Flavia a tight hug. “Is that true, or is Celia making it all up to make me feel good?” I asked.

“It's worse than you think,” Flavia said. “She
wrote
a song about you.”

“Oh, horrors,” I said. “At least Lia started out with the story straight when she wrote her songs.”

“This one's about your early life,” Flavia said.

“It's actually more about Bella,” Celia said. “Of course no one sings it publicly, but I think everyone knows it.” She bit her lip. “No one was talking about Bella—or Mira—or you and Giula. It was as if none of you had existed. It made me angry to think that people were forgetting already.”

“You've changed,” I said.

“Maybe you just didn't know me very well before,” Celia said, and tossed her curls. “Anyway, I'm coming with you, of course.”

“And so am I,” Flavia said.

“And so are we,” a voice said from the doorway. It was Domenico; Nolasco was a pace behind him. “I should have looked for you here first; I remember this was where you had your secret ensemble.” Domenico looked around. “I can't imagine why you met here. It's freezing.” He clasped my hand briefly. “And so the student becomes the teacher. I am yours to command, Generale.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I will try to be worthy of your loyalty.”

“I think my students will choose to come as well,” Nolasco said. “All of them. It is their decision, of course, but—” his eyes glinted with a hard light. “We have not forgotten Bella.”

Over a hundred students and teachers waited by the gate to the school when Giovanni and I were ready to leave, their instruments slung over their shoulders. I was stunned by the size of the crowd, and I realized that the trip back to the wasteland was going to take a lot longer than I'd expected. To my surprise, Giovanni seemed to have obtained enough food to feed everyone for the trip. He must have had more faith in my rhetoric than I had.

Domenico and Nolasco were coming with us; Dean Biagio was not. Nearly everyone I'd known personally was coming, but also many strangers—the percussion teacher, the flute teacher, a number of boy students. I thought about giving them another speech to inspire them for the walk, but something inside me was saying,
hurry, hurry, hurry
. So I discarded the speech and instead said, “I'm so glad to see all of you. Grab some of the food and let's get moving.”

Giovanni had loaded my horse and his with food and supplies bought from the conservatory's kitchens, along with the pack horse, but they couldn't carry all of it; the musicians had to help, and I heard a great deal of grumbling as people shouldered sacks of food along with their instruments. Giovanni led all three horses, to free me up to wander among our new recruits and encourage any who seemed to need encouragement.

An hour after we set out, I sought out Celia, and discovered that she'd attached herself to Giovanni. “Are you
Generale
Giovanni?” she was asking. I fell in step a few paces behind them to listen.

“Yes,” Giovanni said.

“I'm so excited to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you!” Celia tossed her curls, and set her hand tentatively on Giovanni's arm.

“Have you,” Giovanni said, and looked at her nervously.

“Oh yes. You're in some of the songs. Those were always my favorite ones.”

Celia was
flirting
with him. My jaw dropped, and then I grinned. Bizarrely, this seemed to make Giovanni nervous—more and more nervous as she persisted. Finally, when he was answering all her questions with monosyllables and grunts, she gave up and went to pester someone else. I smoothed out my face so that she wouldn't realize that I'd been eavesdropping, but I don't think she cared. She fell into step beside me and leaned close to my ear to whisper, “I had no idea that Generale Giovanni was so
handsome
. He isn't your … your …”

“He isn't my anything,” I said. “Well, he's my friend and my fellow generale, but that's obviously not what you're asking about.” She blushed prettily and tossed her curls. “Have at.”

“I'm sure he'd be interested in
you
,” she whispered.

“I'm sure he would
not
,” I said firmly. “And if he were, he would be in for deep disappointment and a great deal of frustration.”

That made Celia quite cheerful, and she moved off with a smile on her face.

“Thanks so much,” Giovanni said as soon as she was gone. “I really did need a cute little companion; it'll make the ballads about me so much more popular.”

“Celia's a very nice girl,” I said, jogging a few paces to walk beside Giovanni.

“If you haven't noticed, Eliana, there are plenty of very pretty, very nice young women in the Lupi right now. Yet I sleep alone every night. Did you ever stop to consider that maybe this was because I think it would be bad for morale for either of us to take a companion from among our soldiers?”

“I had always assumed it was because you were still in mourning for Jesca,” I said.

“Jesca!” Giovanni said. “Wherever did you get the idea … In Jesca's eyes, I was a boy. No, Generale, I sleep alone for many reasons, but my deep affection for Jesca's memory isn't one of them.” He shook his head. “Well, if Celia doesn't give up soon enough, I'll have her assigned somewhere far away from me. A woman can be more persistent than a wolf on a scent.”

I snorted. “And a man can't?”

“Most men will give up when they get no encouragement,” he said, and gave me an amused look through his lashes. “But lack of encouragement doesn't always deter young ladies like Celia. At any rate, she's taken herself off somewhere for now … Do you suppose we can get them to move any faster?”

“Maybe a little,” I said.

“I wish you'd taken a corps of dancers and a squad of Imperial guards when you decided to sneak off. It wouldn't have been exactly subtle, but since they mentioned they'd heard rumors that the Lupi were looking for musicians …”

“I'm worried, too. I've been pushing things as fast as I felt I could.”

“I know. That's why I wish we had soldiers to defend us.” Giovanni handed me the horses' reins. “I'm going to scout ahead.”

I nodded and took the reins without breaking stride.
Giovanni pulled the hood of his cloak up and set out at a slow run, down the slope we were on and then up the next hill, and then down again, hidden from view.

Flavia sought me out a few minutes later. “You spoke a great deal about Bella,” she said. “But there's another from our quartet you never mentioned. Does it not bother you to lead a war against Mira?”

I bit my lip and looked away. I thought I could trust Flavia, but there were other people close by, and I couldn't risk Mira's treason being discovered. “
Miriamne
made her choice,” I said.

Flavia nodded, her face troubled. “And Giula?”

I laughed. “Now
that's
a tale.” I told her about our trip together as far as Pluma—then her reappearance at Ravenna, and her association with Teleso. “She ended up going to Doratura. As far as I know, she's still there.”

Flavia sighed. “I would have expected better of her.” She meant Giula, but I thought she probably expected better of Mira, too. And in the case of Mira, Flavia was right. I tasted bitterness in my mouth for a moment. Even though Mira had given me the key to the countermagery, and even though I was sure that she had cheered the news of our victory at Montefalco, part of me hated the idea of making war against her. Not because I had any hesitation about opposing the Circle, but because the idea of facing Mira across a battlefield again made my stomach churn. Shaking my head, I pushed the thought away and asked Flavia what she and Celia had been up to since I left.

“Off the road!”

Giovanni was running down the hill toward us. “Off the road!” he shouted. “Everyone, off the road
now
! Hurry! We need to hide!”

Confused, everyone plunged off the road to the south. The winter fields were muddy and bare, but a grove of cedar trees stood not too far away, and a tangle of brush beyond. Still, there were a hundred of us—and the musicians were not accustomed to hiding. “What's wrong?” I asked.

“There are twenty horsemen riding toward us,” Giovanni said. “Fedeli or Circle guardsmen, I'm not sure. I didn't see any mages—they all seemed to be soldiers. But I'm guessing they're heading for the conservatory to take the musicians there into custody.” He raised his voice again. “Hurry! Run, all of you! Once you're off the road, keep going!”

“Did they see you?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Giovanni said. “From a distance. I don't think I'll have aroused their suspicions, though.”

Our musical army moved with agonizing slowness, even though I could tell that everyone was trying to hurry. People were picking their way across the muddy field, trying not to slip. “Hurry!” I shouted.

We were crossing someone's farm, but if anyone could see us, they didn't come out to say hello. It was possible that if we asked, the family who lived here would hide us. It was also possible that if we asked, they'd promise us safe shelter and then trot off to find the guardsmen riding toward Bascio. There was no way to know.

“Down!” Giovanni shouted as we reached the stand of cedars. “Everyone, lie on the ground!”

I dropped without hesitation; around me, the musicians carefully set down their instruments and then huddled on the ground beside them. The horses, of course, were still standing, but I hoped the cedars would
screen them well enough. We were in thick brown brush. I quietly blessed the drab gray robes, which would blend in reasonably well with the mud and bracken.

Beside me, Giovanni was crouched, watching the road from the screen of the cedars. “They're passing,” he said. “They're going by. They didn't see us.”

Around us, muddy musicians began to sit up.

“When they get to the conservatory, they'll know where we've gone,” one of the boy students said. “Where we're going.”

“We've got an hour or two,” I said. “I think the Dean will stall them. Maybe mislead them. If I were him, I'd tell them some story about the Lupi riding in with a hundred soldiers, to explain why he let us recruit.”

“If they look for us, they'll find us,” someone said.

“Keep moving,” I said. “Head south. They're not going to find us.” I wasn't sure I was telling the truth, but for now, I wanted just to keep people moving.

“Do you know of anywhere we can hide?” Giovanni asked me quietly as we walked. “You've lived here, I haven't.”

“I lived at the conservatory,” I said. “I passed through this area twice—once coming, once going. They never let us leave the conservatory grounds.” I picked a cluster of burrs out of my hair.

There was a delicate soprano-pitched cough, and Celia fell in step beside me. “I couldn't help but overhear you just now,” she said. “My family lives only an hour or two from here. We can go to their farm.”

“Are you sure they'll help us?” Giovanni asked.

Forgetting to flirt, Celia narrowed her eyes into a glare. “These are my
parents
. Do you think they'll turn
me
away?”

“Can you get us there off the road?” I asked.

Celia nodded. “There's a path. My mother comes to the conservatory to visit sometimes.”

I gestured. “Lead, then.”

Celia led us to a dirt footpath, and our army of musicians spread out into a long line, walking one or two abreast. I walked behind Celia, Flavia beside me; Giovanni brought up the rear with the horses, so that no one would have to walk in their leavings. Despite the danger, everyone still seemed to be in good spirits. Somewhere behind me, one of the boys started singing a marching song that I suspected he'd learned from a brother in the army; it was dirty enough to make a cowherd blush, but nearly everyone joined in on the refrain.
I'll lie in my bed, I'll sleep like the dead, I'll call for the milkmaid to bring me my bread. My heart will be fed, my lips will be red, my purse will be empty, my sweetheart I'll wed
.

Flavia didn't join in, nor did she pull her drum out to beat time. “The songs say that your family died,” she said.

I nodded. “They got caught in the middle of a fight. The Circle destroyed the whole village.”

“I've been worrying about my family. I didn't have a letter from them the last time the messenger service came.”

I remembered the name of Flavia's village, a small town just outside the wasteland. “I haven't heard about anything bad happening there,” I said. “But it's quite far south; I'm not surprised the messenger service didn't want to go there to pick up the mail.”

“Yeah. I was supposed to be afraid that the Lupi were going to sack my village and kill everyone there, but I never believed you would.”

“Good,” I said. “Because we wouldn't.”

“I'm sorry about your family,” she said.

I clasped Flavia's hand. “The Lupi are getting volunteers now from all over Verdia. Maybe there will be someone from your village who will have news for you.”

The trip to Celia's farm took two full hours, but we were not overtaken on the way. I had half expected Celia to lose confidence when she actually had to approach her family's home with a hundred hangers-on, but she marched up to her front door while we all stood in the front yard. The person who answered her knock looked like a younger sister; her mother and father came to kiss her and hear her explanation for why she'd abandoned her studies so close to possibly winning a lucrative position. I couldn't hear most of what she said, but I saw her point to me, and I caught the words
Fedeli and Emperor
.

She came back to join us a few minutes later, still perfectly composed. “Some of you will have to hide in the barn, some in the root cellar, and some in the house. There should be room for everyone, though.”

“We are at your parents' disposal,” I said.

The bulk of the recruits would hide in the barn, so Giovanni and I elected to stay in the barn with them. Celia insisted on keeping Flavia with her in the house; she would not hide, but would change into one of her sister's dresses and present herself simply as a daughter of the house. As Giovanni and I closed the barn door, I peered out through a crack in the wall and saw one of Celia's brothers taking off at a run; for a moment, fear flashed through me that he was going to turn us all in. But Celia's parents were unlikely to do anything that
would get their own daughter into trouble, I thought, and I settled back against the wall to wait out the afternoon.