The Loved and the Lost (32 page)

“Yes, you are right. He is right. I must consider what my father would say.” Feltrino put his hands behind his back and began pacing back and forth, making a show of weighing the different options. “Let's see, what would he say?” he mused, an ironic smile on his face. “Ah, firstly he'd advise, view the situation, making sure you are seeing it truly and then consider your options. As to the situation, the fact is we've lost our opportunity to obtain the cannon and savant by stealth. Also, we have just witnessed seeing the savant pass on the road and know he is less guarded. The options? We can risk fighting him on the road, but there are six guards and we are only three, two fighting men. Another course of action would be to sneak into Verona and . . . .”

“Where is Feltrino?” Hansum spat as he and Sideways skimmed, out of phase, just over the treetops. They had already been flying for over an hour, checking the forest between Mastino's Bella Flora estate and Mantua. About ten minutes earlier, they found the bulk of the men they sought, at first happy the Gonzagas were headed away from Verona. But coming closer, they saw Feltrino was not with them. They hurriedly levitated back above the trees and made a beeline for the road to Verona, Sideways still complaining about how inconvenient it was not to have a full array of technology at his disposal. They quickly came upon the younger Hansum and Lincoln, riding with the della Scalla soldiers.

“They're heading back to Verona several hours earlier than before,” Hansum said. “Mastino didn't make them wait, probably because there was no attack. They'll be in Verona sooner than expected.”

“Thirty or forty minutes,” Sideways advised. “Feltrino might be following them. We'd better backtrack.” They reversed direction, crisscrossing the road, the A.I. using his enhanced sensory capabilities to find their temporal wild card. As they flew, Hansum's communications implant buzzed.

“It's Lincoln,” Hansum told Sideways. “Hey man, what's up?”

“Boy, using this old communications implant instead of Medeea's telepathy is so archaic,”
Lincoln said in Hansum's head.
“What's taking you guys so long?”

“Things have gotten complicated. Events have changed big time and we're held up trying to find Feltrino.”

“What do you mean things got complicated. How?”

“There's Feltrino,” Sideways said. “We found him.”

“Lincoln, I have to go,” Hansum said. “We'll be there as soon as we can.”

“Will you be here before our other selves arrive?”
Lincoln added hurriedly.
“That's three hours from now.”

“Sweet Gia, no,” Hansum said. “No, that's one of the things that changed. We've left early, our other selves, that is. They'll probably be there in less than half an hour.”

“What in the world happened?”
Lincoln gasped.

Sideways was swooping down into the woods beside the road. Not having to go around the trees, the out-of-phase travelers went right through a thick canopy of forest. When they emerged into the small clearing below, there was Feltrino, an officer and a man in peasant clothes. Feltrino was talking to them, a perplexing smile on his face.

“Gotta go. Fill you in later,” Hansum said, disconnecting from Lincoln as they hovered a dozen feet above the ground.

“Yes, you are right,” Feltrino was saying, smiling hard at the officer and chucking him on the shoulder. “He is right,” he added to the peasant. “I must consider what my father would say. Let's see, what would he say?” Feltrino looked thoughtful and began pacing. “Ah, firstly he'd advise, view the situation, making sure you are seeing it truly and then consider your options. As to the situation, the fact is we've lost our opportunity to obtain the cannon and savant by stealth. Also, we have just witnessed seeing the savant pass on the road and know he is less guarded. The options? We can risk fighting him on the road, but there are six guards and we are only three, two fighting men. Another course of action would be to sneak into Verona and wait for our chance to obtain the savant there. But, even if we could kidnap him, it would be impossible to get an unwilling prisoner out without being caught ourselves. So, we also have the additional option of simply getting into the city and slitting the savant's throat.” Hansum looked down at Sideways and the A.I. back at him. Feltrino started to consider again. “Ah, but then I hear my papa saying something. What would he say, Captain?”

“He would say it is a sin to kill a savant.”

“Si, that's exactly what he would say,” Feltrino said with mirth. “The only thing left, I suppose, is to go back to Mantua and regroup. Build up a force, go to our allies and let them know of this new and dangerous weapon. Then, together we will crush Mastino before he builds up a number of them.” Feltrino stopped speaking and raised his eyebrows at the officer, waiting on his comment.

“Yes, Feltrino,” the captain said. “I believe that is exactly what your father would counsel.”

“And, as a good soldier, if I said this is the best course of action, would you do as I say?”

“I would follow those orders, or any others you or your father gave me, Excellency.”

“Good, then let's go,” Feltrino said. “Let us mount our horses and ride.”

The three men went to their mounts and untied them.

“I confess,” the captain said, getting on his huge horse and starting to walk to the road, “I like the idea of sleeping in my own bed more than in the forest again, Excellency.”

“Who wouldn't?” Feltrino agreed, riding with the others toward the road. “And there's a new kitchen girl at the palace. A comely thing. Maybe even a virgin. When I am next in my bed, I think she will warm it too.”

“Then let's away,” the captain laughed, pulling on his animal's reins.”

“I think we've seen enough,” Hansum said. “Our other selves should almost be at the Verona gates. Let's get there ahead of them.”

“We can site transport there in a split second,” Sideways said.

“Let's do it.” Hansum took one last look at Feltrino and his men riding their horses across the road toward the forest and Mantua. “Finally we've caught some luck,” Hansum said, and they winked away.

The captain was now on the road and just about to ride his horse into the trees.

“Where are you going?” Feltrino called.

“Back to Mantua,” the captain answered, turning to face his young master.

“I didn't give that command,” Feltrino replied, a certain tone in his voice.

The captain looked confused. “But you said . . . Mantua.”

“True, I said it, but that was not my command,” Feltrino smiled sardonically.

“Your bed? The girl?” the spy reminded.

“They will have to wait,” Feltrino replied.

“Where are we to go then?” the captain asked.

“To Verona,” Feltrino answered, pulling his horse around and spurring it. It took off in the direction that Hansum and Lincoln had ridden.

“To what end?” the captain shouted, whipping his horse to follow. The spy shook his head ruefully and got his animal galloping too.

“To what end?” Feltrino shouted back. “To kill the savant, of course.”

When Hansum and Sideways site transported into Guilietta's sick room, Lincoln and Medeea were not the only ones watching the sleeping girl. Shamira and Kingsley were there as well. But even though they were all out of phase, and thus invisible, the room was small and Kingsley had to stand half in and out of the room, his out-of-phase body visually sliced in half by the wall common to the hallway. As well, the younger Shamira was just entering with a steaming wash basin and clean linens. The place was packed.

“Finally,” Lincoln said as Hansum appeared. “What the heck went so wrong?”

But Hansum didn't answer. He was shocked to see Guilietta looking so poorly.

“When I got here last time, she didn't look this sick,” Hansum said.

“That's because I cleaned her up before you arrived,” the older Shamira replied, gesturing to her other self. Hansum stood, wide-eyed and silent, as the young Shamira bent down and put her hand on the sleeping Guilietta's arm.

“Wake up, Guil. Wake up,” the Shamira in the 14th-century said gently. Guilietta stirred, but did not open her eyes. “It's time to get ready for Romero. Romero's coming.” At that Guilietta's eyes opened, expectation on her face.

“Is he . . .” Guilietta asked, her voice weak.

“Not yet. The courier said if he comes right away, he could be here within four hours. That could be soon now.”

“Oh dear,” Guilietta said, trying to raise herself up. “He mustn't see me like this. Help me get out of bed so I can wash and fix my hair.”

Shamira helped her sit but, when Guilietta swung her feet over the side of the bed and tried to stand, she got dizzy and fell back. Shamira helped her on to the bed, going to her knees and waiting while Guilietta caught her breath. The out-of-phase Hansum gritted his teeth.

“Let's prop you up against the headboard,” young Shamira suggested, helping her move. “Master Calabreezi said the best medicine for you now is good food,” Shamira said, tucking in the blanket and smoothing it down. “Nuca's at her house preparing some. In the meantime, I'll give you a sponge bath.”

“You really are like sisters,” Kingsley said, putting a hand on his sad-faced, older Shamira.

“So, what happened, man?” Lincoln asked Hansum again. “Medeea says the changes at Bella Flora can quickly impact things here.”

Hansum explained as he kept a close eye on Guilietta. “Parmatheon found me and wouldn't keep his mouth shut. The Podesta's men caught him. I helped him escape, but Lieutenant Raguso started checking the woods for spies and Feltrino didn't attack.”

Lincoln smiled. “So my crew didn't get killed?”

“I know it's pleasant to think how your friends didn't die, dear,”
Medeea said,
“But remember, each man still alive is an agent of change in the universe. Each thing they do, each person they interact with, causes the universe to be different. Within days, hundreds of deviations will ripple down, then millions and billions.”

“Man, these time travel conundrums are really screwing with my head,” Lincoln said, slapping his forehead.

“Do we know what Feltrino's up to?” Kingsley asked. “He's not one to give up so easily.”

“That's what took so long, finding him,” Hansum explained. “He's on his way back to Mantua, so at least we don't have him to worry about. But our other selves have already left the estate. They're on their way back here.”

“That's changed too?” Shamira asked. “When should you, I mean they, be here?”

“Any minute.”

“Do we have to worry about Elder Parmatheon anymore?” Kingsley asked.

“No, I don't think so. I believe he's learned his lesson,” Sideways added. “However . . . while maneuvering to rescue him, the younger Hansum and Lincoln saw our Hansum here and . . . so did Lady Beatrice.”