Authors: Christopher J. Ferguson
Tags: #Fiction, #Horror, #Retail, #Suspense
Suicide Kings (36 page)
He turned halfway to face her. “You’re prepared to go then?” he asked softly.
She nodded. “I am, Father.”
His mouth twitched and a moment passed. “You are certain you don’t wish me to rent a carriage for you? You’ll find it a long walk to Roma.”
“It’s not fair for me to ask anything more from you.” He already provided her with an immeasurable support in insisting on maintaining Siobhan’s wage for the duration that she remained in Diana’s company. An odd way to maintain a friendship to be sure, but it did mean her own stipend would need only be shared with Francesca, rather than between three women. “Besides I look forward to the journey.”
“You may change your mind when you are several days out. There are all manner of dangers on the road for young women traveling alone.” He chuckled softly a moment later. “Why do I worry? Between you and Siobhan you’ll be armed better than any brigands you might meet.”
She smirked and said. “I will miss you, Father.”
He looked over at her, out of the corner of his eye true, but it was a rare moment in which their gazes met. “Probably far less than either of us would wish. Truth be told, I’ve never been much of a father to you. If you stayed, I don’t think I’d be able to change that. We both relied on your mother so much just to maintain the peace between us.”
Diana nodded. “I will miss you. I’ll write you from Roma.”
“Do that.” He chuckled once more. “Avoid the pope if you can. I hear it told that he likes young women of your sort altogether too much.”
She smiled. “I will.”
“Francesca is certain about joining you? She is welcome to stay here until such time as she reconciles with her family.”
“Thank you, Father, but they seem disinclined to recognize an ex-nun among their daughters. I’m not sure reconciliation is coming. Besides, I like having her with me for my own selfish reasons. I have only two real friends in the world.”
“Then it is decided.” He nodded. “Be well, Diana.”
****
One moment she would never tell her father, would not share even with Siobhan and Francesca. Days earlier, when she had first told him her intention to leave for Roma then Pisa, her father invited her to take anything among her mother’s things that she wished. It was a lovely gesture and though she had nothing in mind, she hoped for a small memento she could keep with her.
The rooms Isabella Savrano inhabited in life had not yet been gone through and cleaned out. No doubt most of the items would eventually go to charity. The valuables would stay with the family. Isabella had several rooms to her own and, as with any lady of means, they contained many things.
A necklace or ring were the most likely objects to serve as a memento, Diana figured. No way would she haul some elaborate dress all the way to Roma and then Pisa. So she searched through her mother’s vanity drawers for something suitable. She found it there, not a keepsake, but the unexpected.
A vial of the sort an apothecary might use. Within, powder. A sniff, a slight taste with the tongue, enough to suggest it might be nightshade. And the vial was not full.
Diana thought of how she’d imagined her mother’s death, that her mother had written to Bernardo expressing her intentions. That he must have ridden back from France himself to dispatch her, masking his return as a triumphant completion of his apprenticeship at the French court. Later he had poisoned Francesca, expecting her visions might eventually lead to him.
It all fit.
Except for this vial. Could the link between Francesca’s poisoning and her mother’s have been mere coincidence? Could Bernardo have confessed to her mother’s death in addition to Francesca’s poisoning as a final act of repentance? The final page of a sad, but clear story cast into doubt by one vial.
If there must be doubt, it would be her own. Her father had been through enough. Her mother’s memory restored. What was done could not be undone.
Diana selected her token, a gold and emerald necklace she had always favored. She took the vial as well, and destroyed it and its contents the very same day.
****
Diana stood between Francesca and Siobhan on the outskirts of Firenze. Before them the road stretched out long and cold toward Roma.
“You’re sure we couldn’t take up your father’s offer of a carriage,” Siobhan groused. She affected an exaggerated limp whenever the subject came up.
“I am no longer of the household Savrano. I must make my own way in the world.” She grinned at Siobhan. “Besides, I think the journey will be fun.”
“I agree,” piped in Francesca, whose spirits had risen immeasurably at the thought of visiting the Holy City. “I’ve never really been much outside of Firenze, and Lucca when I was a baby.”
“Roma is big and filthy and filled with verminous men whose only leisure is to despoil the virtues of young women and sometimes young men,” Siobhan intoned, “beginning from the pope and working down.” With a look at the other two she rolled her eyes. “But yes it will be an adventure. To his credit the pope has begun to employ some fabulous artists. I’ve heard it told that Roma might rival Firenze someday soon as a center point of the arts.”
“I doubt that very much,” Diana scoffed. “What city could be more beautiful than Firenze?” Even as she said the words, she found them bittersweet and melancholy. As much as she loved it, she could not say that Firenze had been good to her. Perhaps Roma and Pisa would be different.
“Let us go then.” Francesca took the first step. “I doubt your stories of the evils of Roma, Siobhan. Nonetheless, with all we have been through in Firenze, how much worse could things possibly get?”
A word about the author...
Aside from being an author, Christopher J. Ferguson is an associate professor of psychology specializing in forensics, an occupation which helps inform his writing.
He has worked with a wide range of offender populations, from murderers to sex offenders to child abusers. His works include several published short stories in
Orion's Child, Nefarious, Midnight Horror, Blazing! Adventures, Stories That Lift
and
Fantasy Gazetteer
. He is also a contributor to Time.com and CNN.com.
He lives in Winter Springs FL with his wife and young son.
Visit Christopher Ferguson at his website.
http://www.christopherjferguson.com
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