Torrent (6 page)

The one across from me nodded and looked me in the eye. “But we need you, m’lady. You and your sister.”

My eyes narrowed. It didn’t take much to remember what the Fiorentini wanted in exchange for Fortino last time.

Our heads.

“Lord Marcello and I,” I said, “we’ve discussed this. He cannot see the way in through Firenze’s gates, and he cannot abide the risk to either me or Lady Evangelia.”

The one to my right nodded. “We mean you no harm. But here’s our plan…we bring you to a city—”

“A neutral city,” amended his friend.

“…in chains,” resumed the first, “as if we’re willing to hand you over to them, but as we make the exchange, our men attack, and we get you and Lord Fortino to safety.”

“Away from Firenze, we believe we’ll have a good chance at success,” said the second.

A good
chance
.
With Lia and me at stake. Marcello will never go for it.

I tried to rise, but the men held me down. “Forgive us, m’lady. We saw no other way to talk to you. Each of us owes Lord Fortino our lives. We served with him in the battle.”

They’d served beside Fortino. Knew him. My friend. I shoved back a wave of fear and stared sternly at each of them. “Go to Lord Marcello with your plans. He will hear you out.”

They glanced at one another, as if trying to decide how much to tell me.

The one in the middle shook his head. “We’ve gone to Lord Marcello before. And we doubt Lord Marcello will tolerate any plan that puts you or your sister in danger. Which we understand well. But the Fiorentini are so determined to have you in hand again, they will not give up on it until Fortino dies. The Nine have offered ransom after ransom—kingly ransoms—and they always receive the same answer.”

We shared a long, hard, silent look.

“We see no other way,” said the first man. “And time is running out, m’lady.”

I looked at him sharply. “You have received recent word on Lord Fortino?”

“Indeed,” he said simply. Gravely.

I considered him. I knew well how stubborn Marcello could be. And that he’d put my safety ahead of his brother’s. Every time. I found his chivalry charming most times, but in a case like this? With Fortino edging ever closer to death’s door? If there was an option, even a crazy idea? Shouldn’t we at least consider it? I knew I couldn’t live with myself if Fortino died and we hadn’t tried every avenue to save him…

“Come to Lord Marcello’s palazzo tomorrow at one,” I said. “I shall aid you in your persuasion—to at least get Lord Marcello hear you out. But release me now, before he finds us here and demands that you are sent to Siena’s prison in chains.” The three shared a look and then immediately stood.

I did too. And saw Marcello four rows away from me, looking frantically in the other direction. “Quickly,” I said, “take my hands and lead a dance line right over there, past Lord Marcello.”

Two of the men did as I bid, gradually forcing smiles to their faces. We entered another line, which broke and cheered and let us in like we were long-lost family members, and we headed right toward Marcello and his men like a churning chain pulling up anchor.

“
Gabriella,
” Marcello said, half in relief, half in total agitation.

I laughed and fell into his arms, waving my companions and the rest off. The people cheered, and soon my parents circled close enough for us to grab them. Lia and Luca hurried up along the top edge of the piazza, no longer dancing. Luca ducked his head, knowing Marcello was fuming. “Forgive me, m’lord,” he said.

“I warned you,” Marcello said, his voice barely discernible over the music and laughter and singing. “I warned you all.”

“Of what?” I asked, cocking a brow. “We danced, laughed, sang. What is so terrible about that?”

He clamped his lips shut and then took my hand, pulling me forward at a quick step, away from the others. In seconds we were in a relatively quiet alcove, away from the crowds. He paced before me for a full minute, running his hand through his hair, beginning to speak, stopping himself, pacing some more. Then finally, “Gabriella, do you have any idea how much I love you?”

His face was so full of pain and anguish, I melted in to a puddle of guilt and regret. “I think so,” I said in a whisper.

“Do you know what it does to me when I think you might be in danger? And particularly when I can’t get to you?”

I nodded carefully. It wouldn’t do any good to tell him I felt safe here in the piazza. This was about his feelings.

“Can you…would you be so kind as to avoid putting me in that position in the future?”

“As best I can, my love,” I said, forcing the words out.

His shoulders relaxed, and he pulled me into his arms, then held my face between his powerful hands, searching my eyes as if wishing he could read my mind, know everything in me, of me.

I lifted my chin, wanting his kiss, wanting his forgiveness, wanting to feel close to him again. After hesitating a moment, he obliged me. Then he took my hand and led me out of the alcove. I felt like All Kinds of Loser.

He was going to be seriously ticked at me tomorrow when the boys came calling. But what was I supposed to do? I wanted his brother freed as badly as he did. And if it was just me and Lia standing in the way of a family reunion, keeping him from saving Fortino…well, that simply had to be fixed.

One way or another.

Chapter Five

The men arrived when we were mostly done with our noon meal the next day. A servant came to the table and leaned over Marcello’s shoulder. “M’lord, there are three men here to see you. They say it is urgent.”

I picked at a chicken bone on my wooden trencher, a medieval kind of platter, half-full of uneaten food, unable to look at him. Or my parents. They might know something was up.

“Who are they?”

“Signores Salvatori, Bastiani, and Bonaduce,” he said.

Marcello paused, then carefully set his knife on the edge of his trencher. “Tell them to return again on the morrow, an hour later, so as to not disturb our sup.”

“Very well, m’lord.”

“Wait!” I cried.
Too loud, Gabs.
I sounded as jumpy as I felt. “Is it not wise for one of the Nine to listen to his people, even if he does not care to?”

Marcello paused and stared at me for a long moment. Then he said to the maid, “I’ll be in the Great Hall in five minutes. Apparently m’lady wishes to take visitors.”

I gave him a small smile. I knew he had done me an honor, giving in even when it wasn’t my place to jump into the mix.
Way to go, Gabi. Sneaker. Betrayer. You should just tell him. Tell him, before it’s too late.

Lia, Luca, and I rose with him, but my parents stayed behind after accepting second portions of chicken and bread. “They don’t make it like this anymore,” my father whispered, lifting a woodstove-charred crust into the air.

I smiled. “They haven’t for a while.”

I placed my hand on Marcello’s arm, and we moved toward the Great Hall. I was trying to figure out a way to tell him, warn him what was to come, but he obviously already knew that these guys were after Fortino’s rescue. Was I really holding that big a secret? I had simply made sure they would be heard.

Marcello and Luca settled on chairs at the far end of the hall, and Lia and I moved to stand beside the tall shuttered windows that looked out at the piazza, cracked open for a bit of fresh air to ward off the smoke from the hearth. Lia and I stared down at the piazza as men finished packing up their tents and wooden crates from the market, heading home for their own noon meal and siesta.

That morning, I’d told her what was coming down.

And she’d agreed to take part. I didn’t know what this place had done to my sister, but I liked it. Suddenly she was all Guts and Sass and Bring It. I guess that came with the territory.

Marcello nodded to the servant, and the man moved off to fetch the visitors. They returned quickly, and I could feel my stomach clench over what was to come. It was good Mom and Dad weren’t here for this. That’d complicate it even more.

The men entered the hall, strode to the end, and bowed before Marcello and Luca, who remained seated. Totally the lord meeting his people. It was a little weird; I’d seen Marcello lead men into battle, but he’d never really assumed the lord title, with Fortino being the older of the two. Now, as one of the Nine and with Fortino gone so long, I supposed it was what was expected of him. But again, I felt a little like he’d grown up a bit without me in the year we’d been apart.

“I thought we’d concluded our business the last time you visited,” Marcello said, frowning.

The main dude, Signore Salvatori, glanced my way and clasped his hands nervously in front of him. “We have further word, m’lord, of your brother.”

Marcello leaned forward. “What word?”

“My sources tell me he fares much worse.” He swallowed so hard I could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “The Fiorentini took one of his eyes, and they threaten his other.” He glanced our way. “They have learned, already, that the Ladies Betarrini have returned.”

Marcello’s frown deepened, as if their words were menacing swords.

“That did not take long,” Luca said.

“We knew it wouldn’t,” Marcello grumbled. He glanced toward me.

Maybe that was why he was all agitated last night. He was worried there were already agents from Firenze within the city, out to get us.
Well, you’re gonna love what’s comin’ next…

“We have proposed, through our contacts, that we meet the Fiorentini in Sansicino. We are to bring the Ladies Betarrini, and they are to bring Lord Fortino.”

Marcello rose so quietly, so slowly, but with such power in every inch of movement, a shiver of fear ran down my back. He stepped over to Salvatori, looking like he wanted to punch him out. “That was not your
place,
” he ground out. “Such negotiations are only for the Nine to make, and”—he shook his finger in the man’s face— “one we would never so foolishly dare. To say nothing of the fact that it would put the Ladies Betarrini in unprecedented danger, something I cannot condone.”

“You might not, beloved,” I said gently, stepping forward. I looked back at Lia and then reached out to tentatively take Marcello’s hand. His face held a mixture of fury and fear. “But we would. Well we know the pain of a family divided,” I rushed on, “a treasured member lost. And Fortino—we love him as a brother too. We cannot stand idly by when there is something to be done.”

Marcello’s eyes narrowed, and his gaze went from me to the men and back to me again. “You spoke with these men last night,” he guessed.

“I did,” I said, willing myself to not back down as a ripple of pain shot through his eyes. “Forgive me, m’lord, for not telling you of it sooner. But when they told me they had further news of Fortino, I knew you’d at least wish to hear them out.”

“Don’t you see?” said Signore Salvatori. “This is our opportunity. We’ve gone over plans, time and again, to steal into Firenze and try and free Lord Fortino. But there’s never a good way out again. Since your daring rescue of Lady Betarrini, our sources tell me that Firenze’s most prized prisoners are held behind several layers of protection. Our only chance is to draw them out, out to someplace where we have a fighting chance. And our only way to draw them out is to pretend to offer what they want most—the Ladies Betarrini.”

“He has a point,” Luca said, lifting a hand in Marcello’s direction.

Marcello sighed and shook his head, dropping my hand to put both on his head. He closed his eyes. “It is not what Fortino would want.” He looked at all of us. “Freeing Fortino would be a great honor for Siena. But what happens if we
all
die in the effort? Can you imagine what a blow that would be to our city?”

We were silent for a moment, absorbing the idea.

“No pain, no gain,” Lia muttered, so quietly only I heard her.

“M’lord,” I said, facing him. “Siena is a fine, strong city. Cities like this find their footing even after sustaining massive blows.”

Marcello studied me, his eyes peering into mine as if to see whether I was really ready to do this. “It may indeed be our last opportunity to save him. But if I were to rescue him and lose you…” He swallowed hard and took my hands in his.

“And yet what if this is a door that God Himself has opened? A chance for you to bring home both a brother and a bride?” I said. If he needed to believe the Big Guy was in on it, I was up for it. And maybe He was. Maybe that was why I’d been brought here in the first place. Just for this. “Let us at least try to save him, Marcello.”

Lia stepped to our side, and Luca to the other, so that we could confer in privacy. “If we don’t do this, Fortino will surely die,” Lia said, shaking her head. “And I cannot live with that, m’lord. To not try at all is a form of murder itself. If we are to die, let us do so trying to save your brother, trying to accomplish something honorable and true.”

“Right,” Luca said. “As is our normal practice.”

He cocked a grin, and Marcello was drawn into a small smile himself. He shook his head. “Can we not settle into some semblance of peace for a while? Normalcy?” He eyed me, and I could almost read the question in his eyes.
You know, settle down, get married, have a couple of kids?

“Come, beloved,” I said. “Let us make plans to free your brother. As quickly as we can. Then we can see to your desire for peace and normalcy.”

“Do you swear it? That you will settle into such things with me then?”

“Easily sworn,” I said. “Because there’s nothing I’d rather do than to live life with you, Marcello.”

Dimly I could feel Lia freeze at my words. But I ignored her. We’d deal with saving Marcello’s brother first. Then we’d figure out a way to convince my sis to sign away her forever to the republic of Siena.

While we awaited word from the Fiorentini, expected in a few days, Marcello invited us to come along with him on his official journey to visit San Galgano. The city was about fifteen miles south and east of Siena—a pretty safe area for us to go on an outing—and a good way to break everyone in to the whole idea of meeting with the Fiorentini in an effort to free Fortino. Especially Dad.

Maybe if Mom and Dad saw we could come and go and remain secure, they’d be down with our Supergirl plan to swoop in, scoop him up, and nurse him back to health in Siena.

Or yeah, maybe not.

Of course Marcello brought along a hundred of his nearest and dearest knights. You know, just to make sure we had company in case trouble came near.

Mom and Dad were excited. In all our years of visiting Tuscany, we’d never taken a day to journey out to the old abbey, which in this era was fairly new, of course. The day was crisp and cold but clear, the sunrise a pale yellow and tangerine to the east.

We rode together in a small group, the six of us—me, Marcello, Luca, Lia, Mom, and Dad—with the knights forming what amounted to protective groups on every side of us but twenty yards away. A group of servants traveled behind, hauling a mule train of supplies.

Since it was the middle of winter, the fields were nothing but furrows of overturned dirt. Smoke tendrils rose to the sky from small cottages and larger villas alike. I imagined households awaking to the day, breaking their fasts in cozy, warm little kitchens.

Dad was filling us in on the legend of San Galgano. “I have always wanted to see it for myself,” he said excitedly. “I believe it to be the true basis of the Arthurian legend of Excalibur. Medieval troubadours must have spread the legend to England, where they picked up on it and made it famous.”

“Truly, a man sunk a sword in a stone?” I asked.

“No way,” Lia said, lapsing into English.

Mom raised a brow. “Stranger things have happened, no?” she asked, referring to our being here at all—all due to two hands on an ancient stone wall. I stared at her for a long moment. My mom had always been a facts-only kind of girl. I always had to make my case to get her to believe, and that case had to be full of provable facts. It was the scientist in her. But our leap through time appeared to be changing her. Changing all of us.

“San Galgano performed many miracles afterward,” Marcello said, making the sign of the cross from forehead to chest and across again, a note of defense in his tone. Luca did the same. “Why is it that you doubt this story?” he asked, blinking at me with concern in his handsome eyes.

I shifted, trying to get comfortable on my sidesaddle. Marcello had insisted we use them, given our official task in the visit. Then I shrugged. “I know not. In Normandy we are taught to suspect everything. Believe once proven. Don’t you find the tale rather…wondrous?”

“That is exactly how I think of it. Wondrous. A miracle.” He smiled at me, and I admired him anew. He truly was the most handsome guy I’d ever met. Strong chin. Prominent cheekbones. Large, warm eyes. He was attractive all the time—but when he smiled, man
,
I was lost.

“The Cistercian monks think of it as a miraculous land too,” he went on with a wry smile. When he glanced back and spotted Dad giving him a steady stare, he hastily dropped it and looked forward again as if caught doing something terrible.

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to distract them both.

“They own most of the valley ahead of us,” he said. “Every principal building. Most of the industry. The people work for them.”

“But it is a good valley, a prosperous valley,” Luca added. “Her people are content.”

As we neared, I could see why. It was beautiful country, with a strong river and many creeks, soil that was dark and rich, and heavy forests, even though much had already been cleared to make way for more farmable acreage.