Two Heirs (The Marmoros Trilogy Book 1) (27 page)

“Well?”

“It wasn’t their fault, madam,” Ramirez intervened. “They were attacked quite unjustly.”

“And you, sir. Who might you be?”

“Sergio Ramirez at your service, madam. The unfortunate master of one of the reprobates who attacked these young people.”

“Hah, the sword smith. I might have known.”

“I see my evil reputation precedes me yet again,” he remarked dryly.

“And as for you, young man,” she continued relentlessly. “Why didn’t you protect her?”

“Because Seb was busy taking a beating at the time,” Rachel replied hotly. “His shoulders and arms are black and blue. But when Teresa was hit, he drew his sword and fought this bully who was twice his size.”

“Uh, he wasn’t quite twice my size, Agnes. But I did tip him in the river. He came out stinking of sewage.”

“Did he now? Well let’s see to your shoulders then. Shirt off.”

“What here? In the courtyard?”

“Yes here. Are you shy or something? I’m sure Rachel will turn her back if you’re embarrassed.”

Rachel and Ramirez had to turn away to hide the smiles on their faces as Seb very gingerly eased the shirt away from his back and over his head.

“Good Lord,” Agnes said when she saw the extent of the stripes across his shoulders, not a few of which had broken the skin and bled. “Why on earth didn’t you say something, child?”

“I would imagine it had something to do with the difficulty of finding a gap large enough to insert more than two syllables together,” Ramirez murmured.

Agnes glared him and then snapped her fingers at a passing servant. “Fetch me a bowl of
luke warm water, a soft cloth and some liniment,” she ordered.

“And you, make yourself useful,” she directed at Rachel. “Run inside and fetch this poor boy a clean shirt from his pack.”

Rachel disappeared into the house just as a grim faced Angelo came through the gates with Josep by his side. He looked around the courtyard to find a strange coach, parked to one side, Seb sitting on a bench, stripped to the waist with Agnes hovering over him and the sword master Sergio Ramirez standing in the middle of it all. He picked what appeared to be the easiest target.

“Sergio, will you please tell me what the hell is going on here. Where is Teresa?”

“She is safe, Angelo. She is inside with the doctor.”

“With the doctor? Is she badly hurt?”

“She will have a nasty bruise down the side of her face and there is a small cut but I have high hopes that it will heal without leaving a trace.”

“Without leaving a scar, you mean. What happened?”

As Ramirez related the events of the morning, Angelo’s face grew black with rage. When it was finished, he walked across to Seb and stood silently for a minute watching Agnes rubbing liniment into the multiple bruises. Then he held out his hand.

“It appears that I have to thank you, young man, for defending my daughter this morning. Sergio has told me that you refused to be provoked, despite taking all these blows but, when you did draw your weapon, you fought bravely and defeated an opponent who was both older and stronger than you.”

Seb stood up, much to the annoyance of Agnes and took Angelo’s hand. “Thank you for saying that, sir but I deeply regret that I did not protect Teresa better. I do not understand, cannot understand, how someone who is supposed to be a gentleman could strike a lady like that.”

“We agree on that, Seb. But this young thug, despite belonging to one of the oldest families in the city, has built himself a nasty reputation for brutality over the last few years. When the doctor has finished, I want to see Teresa for myself and have a few words with her. Then Sergio, Josep and I are going to pay a visit on Master Antonio Cortes; that’s the young lout’s father. If you feel up to it, I would be pleased if you would come with us.”

“I would be honoured, sir.”

***

The house of the Cortes family was a grand affair. It was situated closer to the fortress where the houses were packed in more tightly together. Overall, it was a similar size to Angelo’s but in a totally different style, opening directly onto the street and rising three stories high. A liveried servant answered Angelo’s stentorian knock and ushered them into a beautifully furnished lobby.

“Is the Master expecting you?” the servant enquired.

“Has his son returned home yet?” Angelo replied.

“Master Oscar? I believe he came home about an hour ago, sir.”

“Then his father is expecting us. Please tell him we are here.”

The servant returned after a few minutes. “The Master will see you in the solarium, sirs. Please follow me.”

The solarium was on the first floor at the rear of the house with a north facing extension built entirely of glass, walls and ceiling. The effect was to allow a tremendous volume of light into the room which was then enhanced by large mirrors hung on the walls of the inside chamber. The temperature in the room was a full ten degrees higher than outside and was distinctly uncomfortable for visitors arriving in normal street clothes and which, Angelo thought, was probably entirely intentional.

There was no-one in the room when the servant showed them in. “The Master will be with you directly,” he said and left them to their own devices.

“
To sweat a little
,” Angelo thought.

When Antonio Cortes arrived he was dressed for the heat in a loose fitting silk shirt of the palest blue and loose fitting trousers of a slightly darker hue.

“Angelo, my old friend. It is good to see you. I was sorry to hear about the unfortunate incident this morning. How is your daughter? Teresa isn’t it?”

“Don’t play games with me, Cortes. You know full well why we are here. The doctor has stitched the cut on my daughter’s face and is hopeful that it will not leave a scar. But at this stage we cannot be certain. Your son did this to her. If he has affected Teresa’s marriage prospects, there will be consequences.”

“Angelo, Angelo. I am very sorry for what happened this morning but Oscar tells me it was just an unfortunate accident.”

“He’s a liar,” Seb started furiously and then stopped short as Angelo held up a warning hand.

“And this, I assume, is the young hooligan who pushed my son into the river. Why is he here? He is not welcome in my house.”

“He is here because I invited him,” Angelo said. “You should know that charges will be brought against your son. It appears that one of Master Ramirez’s apprentices was the instigator of this morning’s attack but it was your son who struck my daughter and there are witnesses who will testify that the blow was deliberate.”

“A stallholder who was some distance away and could not be certain about what she saw in all the confusion. Her evidence will carry very little weight and she will probably not even testify.”

“If you get to her first you mean. But Seb here will testify and so will Teresa. And I can assure you that their testimony will carry weight. Particularly when your son’s previous history is taken into account.”

“Now that is unfair, Angelo. He may have made some mistakes in the past but he is a changed man. To dredge up previous incidents that have no connection to this unfortunate accident, would be extremely prejudicial.”

“Prejudicial! Unfortunate accident! Do not mistake me on this, Cortes. If my daughter is scarred for life, I will prosecute this case against your son and against your family with every ounce of my power, influence and resources.”

“All right, Angelo. I can see that you are upset and I can understand that. I would be too if I was in your position. So how can we resolve this situation?”

“We cannot resolve this finally until I know the extent of my daughter’s injury and how well she will recover from it. But even if she recovers fully, I will still hold you liable for the injury itself and for the distress it has caused her, my wife and our family.”

“I sympathise with your position, Angelo, even if I do not admit liability for it. But perhaps there is something I could do to ease the pain you are suffering.”

“Perhaps.”

“Name it, old friend. I do not wish there to be enmity between our families. Tell me what you want and I will see what I can do.”

“You have many ships. My dear friend here…“ Angelo indicated Josep, “… wishes to get to Westron as soon as possible. It is a matter of great importance.”

“Alas, my friend, that is not possible. I have no ship capable of making that journey at this time.”

“You have the Santa Joanna tied up at the quayside and standing idle.”

“She is awaiting repair. She was making water on her last trip and needs to be re-caulked. I could not risk a trip to Westron in her condition. If even a small storm blew up, she would founder and your friend here would be lost.”

“How about a shorter trip?” Josep put in. “To, say, Kell?”

Cortes rubbed his chin as he thought for a minute. “If you are prepared to leave almost immediately, then yes, Kell would be a possibility. What cargo do you require to transport?”

“Three wagons, six people and horses.”

He thought again for a moment. “Yes, that can be done. It will take me a day to roust the captain out of his drunken stupor and put together a crew. Is that acceptable?”

“It’s a tight timescale but, yes, we can do that.”

“Then be on the quayside the morning after next. The Santa Joanna will sail with the afternoon tide.”

***

The next twenty four hours passed with incredible rapidity. Everyone lent a hand as trading goods and provisions were procured and loaded aboard the wagons. The horses were all newly
shod and, at Angelo’s insistence, the local carpenter came in to check over the wagons and effect a few minor repairs.

Nobody had felt much like eating the previous evening so, for their final meal together, Maria had spent much of the day in the kitchen, chivvying the cooks into preparing their finest range of dishes and they had excelled themselves. There were platters of small fried fish, jellied eels, bowls of soup with bacon and mushrooms, three different sorts of pastries and pies containing capons and game birds. For the main course there was a roast haunch of venison, a suckling pig, a sturgeon baked in salt and a whole roast peacock dressed and served in its own feathers. Afterwards there were jellies, bowls of candied sweetmeats, one cheese from every different region in the known world and as a final masterpiece for their guests, sugar sculptures moulded in the shape of their wagons complete with miniature horses.

The young ladies had once again spent time exploring the depths of Teresa’s wardrobe and emerged looking radiant. Teresa had delighted Beth by making her a present of the ruby dress that so complemented her hair. She had also given Rachel the emerald green dress that had been altered to fit her but for tonight Rachel had chosen to wear the new dress of soft rose coloured silk that Agnes and Maria had made for her. Teresa was once again wearing her favourite yellow silk dress and Seb, who had obviously been forewarned of this, had been out and spent some of his new found wealth on a slashed doublet of green velvet with yellow panels that exactly matched the colour of her dress.

Beth and Rachel had done their best to conceal the doctor’s stitching with some cream and powder and Teresa seemed restored to her normal self, sitting close to Seb and chatting happily throughout the evening. At the other end of the table, the older generation smiled at each other and agreed that they made a lovely couple.

At the end of the meal, when all the dishes had been cleared, Angelo stood up and raised his glass in a toast.

“To you, old friend. To your charming wife and to your extended family. We have been delighted to see you again and are very sorry that you are departing so soon. But we wish you a journey free of danger and we wish you the joy of seeing and liberating the fabulous city of Marmoros.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Josep replied. “I too, wish we could have stayed longer but the opportunity to visit our homeland and to see Marmoros is one that we have longed for these many years. I am deeply saddened by the misfortune that has fallen upon your beautiful daughter but I will be forever in your debt for you turning that misfortune to our advantage and procuring us a ship.”

As he sat down, Seb got to his feet and hesitantly cleared his throat.

“Uh, Master Angelo, Mistress Maria, Teresa. I am grateful for the generous hospitality that you have shown me and I am truly sorry that I was the cause of Teresa’s injury. It is a guilt that I will carry with me always and I humbly beg your and especially her forgiveness.”

“We attach no blame to you, Seb,” Angelo replied. “It is that young thug, Cortes who must carry the blame for this. There was no way anyone could have foreseen his disgraceful action but, when it happened, you defended my daughter with courage and some considerable skill. As for Teresa’s forgiveness, I think you must ask her that yourself.”

Seb looked down as Teresa took his hand and smiled at him.

“Then, sir, there is something else I must ask you. I am committed to go on this adventure to Marmoros. I have given my word but, even if I had not, I have to make my way in the world and to make something of the opportunity I have been given. But when it is over, if I may, I would very much like to return to Puerto Reis and visit you again.”

“I think, Seb, that you will do very well in this life and that the world should be wary of your coming. I said to you before that any member of Josep’s family was welcome in this house but, when you return, I look forward to welcoming you in your own right and I think a certain member of my family might do also.”

“You would come back even if my face is scarred?” Teresa asked softly.

Seb looked down at her again. “Teresa, if you had a scar on both cheeks and a hunchback to boot, you would still be the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life or could ever hope to meet.”

“Why, Seb. You are becoming positively eloquent,” Agnes exclaimed. “I have never before heard you say so much at one time.”

“Ah well. That’s what love does to a man, my dear,” Josep added as Seb flushed furiously and hastily sat himself down amid a circle of smiling faces.