Chiara – Revenge and Triumph (80 page)

"Yes, Ser Hakim, the first mate of the Santa Caterina."

"I will question him shortly."

"My Lord, I would like to ask a big favor of you."

"Yes?"

"I persuaded Ser Hakim to testify and take the Santa Caterina to Piombino with the promise that I would convince you not to prosecute him for having been part of the group that chased me and for any allegations that under Signor Sanguanero’s orders he and his crew had participated in acts of piracy."

"But why should I not punish them?"

"For several reasons, my Lord. First, Ser Hakim, in fact, ran away when Signor Sanguanero ordered his tall blonde slave to kill me. There is no proof that he knew beforehand that killing me was the intention. Second, I did not find any loot on the Santa Caterina after we took her, that could have pointed to piracy. They only loot I found were things that had been removed from Castello Nisporto and the tenants, like all the valuable wall hangings, weapons, tools, and other things. Furthermore, even if they had engaged in piracy, if the only boats or ships they looted were those of enemies of Piombino or Siena or Pisa, and its friends, it would hardly be viewed as a crime against Piombino. And last, but not least, the cost of keeping more than two dozen prisoners for any length of time is a big drain on the coffers of your Lordship. This was one of the reasons I decided to gain the crew’s cooperation and be done with fast, rather than have to feed them for weeks until your Lordship would have taken them off my hands."

A big smile appeared on his face. "Lady Chiara, your arguments, as always, are thorough and convincing. I will let Ser Hakim know of your recommendation."

"You may add a proviso to it, my Lord, if I may be so bold."

"Yes, I am listening."

"That this is done under the condition that the Santa Caterina returns to Porto Pisano and reports to Casa Sanguanero, whom I consider to be the rightful owner of the ship."

"Good, but what guarantees do we have that they follow this order?"

"None, except the threat that if this does not happen, the Santa Caterina will never be able to visit any port along the Tuscan coast. But my reading of both Ser Hakim and the crew is that the majority would prefer to have a new start as honest sailors."

"So be it… And since you have assumed the role of counsel to the judge," but his eyes were smiling, "what punishment would you see justified for Signor Sanguanero?"

"When I took him prisoner, I promised him the gallows. But he really is simply an arrogant fool, following in the footsteps of an equally arrogant father. So, on second thought, I think a good while in a dungeon would be a more appropriate punishment."

"I will consider that… And now, young woman, since, to my utter astonishment, you have achieved all your aims, will you give in to Lady Maria and accept her mediation to a marriage? When your latest exploits become known, there should be princes knocking at your door."

Chiara smiled without answering.

"Naturally, assuming that there exists a candidate that meets your four conditions."

"Naturally," she replied. "And how is Messer Mercurio, my Lord?"

"Have you not seen him yet? … He is recovering well and still telling to anybody willing to listen the story about the biggest boar ever killed."

"I will go and see him."

The old warrior greeted her warmly. She had to undergo another interrogation. In the end, he said: "Oh, Chiara, how I wish I could have served under you."

* * * 

Ser Hakim thanked her profusely for her intervention on behalf of himself and the crew and then offered to take the twelve tenants back to Elba. It would not add more than half a day to their trip to Porto Pisano. She gave him a letter for Filippo Baglione, Lady Lucia’s husband, informing him of the tribunal’s verdict, of Niccolo’s attempt on her life, and of taking back Castello Nisporto and her land by force from him, that he was now in custody at Piombino, likely to be sentenced to imprisonment for a while, that she had convinced Lord d’Appiano not to charge him and the crew of the Santa Caterina with piracy, and that she was sending the Santa Caterina to Porto Pisano for Casa Sanguanero to do with it as he saw fit. She recommended Ser Hakim to him as a competent man that he could trust. As a postscript, she sent her warm respects to Lady Lucia in the hope that there could be peace between them.

On the morning of the ship’s departure two days later, she accompanied Hakim and her men back on board. The crew whistled and shouted when she climbed on deck in women’s clothing, her broad belt with the four decorative knives around her waist.

"Lady Chiara, we have all heard about your skill with the knives. Will you show us?" the read-head sailor shouted.

Why not?
The little devil in her was already acting. "All right, move away from the captain’s door."

She was standing about eight paces away, all eyes on her. Suddenly, she shouted: "What’s that?" pointing to the foremast. While most of the crew looked up the mast, she whipped out her first knife, threw it, catching some of them unaware, and then quickly followed it up by the other three. The four knives were almost perfectly aligned in a row. The sailors and her own men erupted in wild cheering.

The red-haired now stepped in front of her. "Now, my Lady, we got you without weapons. What if we take you?"

Her men and some of the crew muttered protests.

"Try it, sailor," she challenged him, as her right slipped into the pocket of her skirt.

He took a step closer and stopped in mid-stride, the tip of a small knife in Chiara’s right pushing into the soft flesh below his chin. He raised his head. The knife followed, the pressure increasing slightly.

"On your toes, sailor."

He raised himself on his toes, leaning farther and farther back. And then the knife disappeared. He rubbed his right hand under his chin and looked dismayed at the blood on it.

"You nicked me!" he complained, sulking.

"Be thankful it’s only a nick, sailor. You could be dead by now. You still have to learn a lot, don’t you? Like knowing when to keep your mouth shut and not let it run away with you."

After a brief uneasy silence, there was renewed cheering, ending in repeated "Lady Chiara, Lady Chiara."

Climbing down the ladder, she heard one sailor say: "She showed you up for what you are, you braggart."

It was followed by a sharp call from Hakim’s voice: "Rusty, come here. You need some time to cool off." Followed a moment later by: "Put him in irons."

31

Piombino, Chianciano, early March 1351

I must admit, my dear daughter, that sailing the Santa Caterina into Piombino seemed easier than facing the consternation and critical scrutiny which Lord d’Appiano subjected me to, although I think that in the end I may even have earned his admiration for how I regained my inheritance without any of my tenants getting hurt. He acceded to all my request about not punishing the crew.

On the other hand, the countess renewed her quest to broker a splendid marriage for me with fervent enthusiasm, my dubious fame becoming one of her trump cards. I was afraid that this time there was no escape, particularly since she did it at dinner time, enlisting everybody’s support. What surprised me most, though, was my own reaction. Marriage was farther from my mind than ever. There were too many things to do on Elba, nor did I want to leave it again so shortly after having regained it.

And then I discovered that I was bearing the fruit of that single night with Selvo. Having a child out of wedlock was going to be my utter disgrace. This was my first reaction. But it was not in my nature to allow pity for myself to seize me. Rather, the determination grew that I would do everything I could to protect the innocent child from suffering for my sins. This child would be Selvo’s gift to me. I would raise it in the seclusion of Castello Nisporto, hopefully with the support of Alda and Pepe, the two people that I had become to see as my parents. I needed to rush to them to confess, to be comforted. I was sure of their forgiving understanding. I dreaded the reaction of Veronica and Jacomo more. They had always seen me as the person they strove to become in spite of my entreaties to be true to themselves. I feared that I had disappointed them badly.

* * * 

Chiara was brushing her hair, looking at herself in the mirror, wondering how she would be able to stall the countess’ onslaught to submit to marriage — submission it felt to her, locking away forever her feelings for the man she could never have, the man who was trying to go back to his wife. The subdued light of the single candle gave the dark room an air of mystery, reminding her of the cave. She closed her eyes, imagining him standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders, a boyish smile on his rugged face. The growing heat in her groin alarmed her. She opened her eyes and continued brushing her hair again.
How many days has it been?
she wondered and stopped her hand in mid-stroke.
I haven’t bled yet!
With all the action, preoccupations, and planning this last week, it had completely slipped her mind. She had always been regular, twenty-eight days, usually falling on a Tuesday.
Today is Thursday.
She counted back through events on how many weeks it had been since she last bled. Five. She counted again.
Five — am I with child? … No, it can’t be. It must not be.
But she knew that it was so. Had she not felt slightly nauseated this morning? Panic seized her. She sank down on the bed.
What am I going to do?

"That’s that for marriage," she laughed bitterly.

The urge to be held by Alda filled her whole being, grew into a painful, physical need.
I must leave tomorrow.

Sleep evaded her.
What am I going to do?
beating her mind relentlessly. The dread of disgrace, of losing the respect of people she valued, Veronica, Jacomo, Lady Maria, Count d’Appiano, Mercurio, Lady Teresa.
Alda and Pepe will stand by me
. She needed to cling to this. How could she have been so thoughtless, just intoxicated by the moment, willingly yielding to the man she then knew she loved but could never have? Without thinking of the consequences — she who always calculated and weighed things up? And with that her thoughts turned to Selvo. Where was he? He would never know that he had fathered another child, a child that other people would judge as bad, since it would be born out of wedlock. Her child must not suffer for her sin. She could not allow that to happen. She would protect it with all her power, with her love. It would grow up in the shelter of Castello Nisporto. Alda and Pepe would support her, of that she was sure. They would not judge her, nor the child.
Will it be a girl or a boy? I hope it’s a girl.
She did not know why she wished that. It would be both her child and her friend. A child that would remind her of Selvo. His face rose again in her mind, as sleep finally gave respite to her turmoil.

Low moans woke her in the middle of the night, a feeling of utter rapture radiating from deep in her belly. Yielding to the wave of bliss that was suffusing her whole body, she became aware that the moans were her own. She stayed with the dream of Selvo making love to her.

The following morning she woke to a new sense of determination. Tomorrow she would leave for Chianciano. The two horses that the young guard, Rinaldo, had fetched from the farm outside Populónia were in good shape, rested and ready for a quick journey home.
Home? Home was Elba. Home to the ones I love.

The countess flatly refused to let her go. "You are not leaving here until we have settled which marriage prospect I should pursue first. I give you that much choice."

"My Lady, there is no hurry. I know that my friends will be anxious to hear from me and I cannot let them wait any longer… And I too want to see them, tell them the news."

"You can send a message. You do not have to give it to them in person. You are simply offering excuses. But this time I will not buy them."

Chiara was sure that her eyes were crying defiance. The countess met her gaze, alarmed and then her whole stance revealed defeat.

"Chiara, are you hiding something from me?"

Yes, I am. Does it already show?

"Why did you not tell me that you are already betrothed and have been so for a long time it seems?"

For an instant, Chiara was confused and it showed, and then in a flash she saw the solution to her problem. If she admitted it, she could claim that her husband died in an accident shortly after the marriage and to the world the child would not be born out of wedlock. She lowered her face, as if ashamed, acting a fictitious scenario — the very thing she had proclaimed only three weeks earlier she would never do.

"Why did you hide it from me?" the countess exclaimed. "Who is it?"

"The second son of a minor noble near Chianciano, my Lady." She hoped that the countess would interpret her blushing as embarrassment, rather than for what it was, the shame of telling such a blatant lie.

Lady Maria sighed. "I guess it is a matter of the heart. I should have known that without the firm hand of a father, you would succumb to your feelings rather than be guided by common sense." She turned away and looked out the window.

Chiara began breathing more freely.

After a while, the countess turned around. "You have been the most promising pupil I have ever had, and I think it is such a pity that you are throwing away a brilliant future. You had it in you to become the leading lady in any illustrious Tuscan noble house of your choice. Instead you bury yourself in the contado, ignored and forgotten within a year."

"My Lady, please forgive me for deceiving you. I have always held you in my highest esteem as the person I wished to emulate, and I failed you."

"I can only say that it is a shame. I hope love will compensate you for what you are missing out on." With that, she left the parlor.