Bourne (River of Time 3.1 Novella) Page 9

  But first I'd send a messenger pigeon to Castello Forelli, so that my family did not freak out over me all night. And I could—

  A commotion near the front of our traveling party—which numbered over thirty—stole my attention. I shifted my mare to the right, straining to see over the bobbing heads of the Gallo girls' maids and others ahead of me.

  Three of the Gallo knights were beneath a tree, circling. I edged out of line and urged my mare to a trot, passing the others. One of the knights saw me coming, said something to the others, and all three turned toward me. One moved forward to stop me. "M'lady..."

  But I was already close enough to see. My eyes went wide as I stared up into the cradling branches of an ancient oak, a man hanging ten feet above my head. I stifled a gasp and bit my lip, circling him, trying to get a look at his face. It was the color he wore that alarmed me most—Forelli gold.

  "M'lady," said another knight, trying to block my way. "'Tis truly not a sight for feminine eyes."

  "'Tis obviously not a sight for anyone's eyes who loves the house of Forelli. Who is it? I must know!" I turned again and then abruptly pulled up just before I could finally see his face. Slowly, his big body spun on the rope. I froze, wondering why I hadn't thought of it before. There had only been so many men with us with that dark, wavy hair.

  And when I saw his face, I knew for sure.

  Georgii. Eyes bulging, tongue protruding. And a triangle cut into his ankle, blood still dripping to the soil below.

  "Cut him down," I gasped. "Please, cut him down." My voice breaking, I slid off my mount, rushed to the tree and vomited. Georgii, sweet, fun Georgii, so willing, so young. And Lutterius's twin... What would happen when his brother found out? I braced myself against the tree with one hand and wretched again, the last bits of food from Villa Gallo leaving my stomach.

  I spit, gasping for breath. Then I straightened, put my hands on my head and turned, trying to think about my next steps. What next? Who to tell? Where to go?

  "I wager they surprised him on the road back to Castello Forelli," said a Gallo knight to his master, as he rode up. "It appears they chased him to a spot around the bend, where his horse came up lame. He was surrounded."

  My eyes went to the knight. "They chased him down?"

  "Yes, m'lady," he said, sorrow in his eyes. "Mayhap he rode for Siena, hoping he could make it in time."

  My mind whirled. Georgii had come from the northwest, where Conte Lerici resided. If he'd run across the assassins, they had been somewhereup there The knight's face dimmed before me, and I could see only one other.

  Luca.

  He was heading north. What if he was trapped or tracked as Georgii had certainly been? Surrounded? Hanged?

  I strode over to the knight who I'd seen Luca talking to and conferring with about the best roads toward his uncle's villa in Aquina. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, looking as though a real wolf stalked him. Me. I looked up at him, hands on my hips. "Sir Luca Forelli went to his uncle's villa. Which way did he travel?"

  "By this very road, m'lady. This road intersects with another—"

  The knight to his side slammed the back of his fist into his belly, making him gasp. "Quiet, fool. M'lady, you cannot go after Sir Forelli. Not now. Not at this hour. He made us swear we'd see you safely to Siena."

  But I was already running for my mount. As I'd watched Luca do over and over, I grabbed hold of the saddle horn and swept up into an arc, almost settling myself neatly into the saddle, but just a little shy. Okay, that's a little embarrassing. Next time, I gotta pull up a little more as I swing.... I stubbornly clung to the side and scooched myself the rest of the way on before sitting up, a bit out of breath. I reached for my reins and whipped my horse around.

  "Wait, m'lady, we shall accompany you!" said a knight.

  "Nay," I said, summoning every bit of princess-ness in me I could. These weren't Marcello's men; they were Gallo's, giving me half a chance. And besides, I'm a She-Wolf. The sister-in-law of one of the Nine. Surely I can make this happen. "The more of us there are together, the more likely we'll draw our enemy's eye. I must do this alone."

  "You're mad!" said Lady Gallo. "She's mad!" she repeated to her husband, shaking her head in total confusion.

  "You cannot!" said the second knight. Several of the others grumbled their agreement.

  "I must go to Luca," I said to Lord Gallo, ignoring all but him. "Get your family to the safety of Siena's gates. And then send Forelli knights immediately toward the villa, along this same road. Understood?"

  "Yes, m'lady," he said, fear and wonder warring in his eyes. "Go with God."

  God and a thousand of His angels, I hoped, as I tore down the dimly lit road.

  ***

  An hour later, just as I was losing the last of my light, I met up with the road that the knight had mentioned and turned north. There was a good, long stretch in front of me, and at the very end, I thought I glimpsed a man in a dark cape, and a flash of yellow beneath his saddle. But it was really too dark to tell if it was Luca for sure. Seconds later, the rider disappeared into a dark wood. But hope surged within me.

  Determined, I pushed my weary horse down the road. With luck, I'd gain on him. If it wasn't Luca, I told myself, I could at least find out from the traveler if I was heading in the right direction. And I'd have more road behind me than ahead, once total darkness overtook me.

  Ten minutes later, I reached the forest and pulled up, circling as I studied the deep, dark shadows of the trees ahead of me. Would I be able to pick my way through as nightfall came, or was I likely to get lost within? I'll help nobody if I get lost.

  Movement ahead caught my eye. But then was gone. "Luca!" I called, covering my mouth too late. Way to go, idiot, I said to myself. Why not announce to the whole wood that you're chasing Luca Forelli? Hey, everybody! Forelli Peeps, right over here! Come and get 'em while they're hot!

  I shook my head, frustrated with myself—both for the shout and for all the negative self-talk. Mom wouldn't allow that to go on, if she was here. I shouldn't either. I nudged my mare forward, my eyes sweeping warily left and right, trying to discern anything out of the ordinary. But all I saw were trees and more trees and the winding road, which was covered in pine needles and cones and small branches. It was about the width of a Ford truck but relatively straight, so I was heartened. Surely, even in the dark, I could find my way.

  When it grew too dark to be certain of the road, I dismounted and tapped the toe of my slipper, paying attention to the sound of the dirt and stones beneath it, so different from the soft cushion of the forest floor, which was riddled with more branches.

  I glanced up, seeing that the tree canopy closed above me. Was there a moon to come? I hadn't been paying attention lately. I listened, the hairs at the back of my neck standing on end. No birds called. There was little sound at all. I pressed forward, telling myself that I'd only scared them off, or that they'd all flown south for the winter. Like the moon, I couldn't remember birds in recent days. I've been a little preoccupied, I thought, cutting myself some slack. No negative self-talk, no negative self-talk.

  I froze. I'd definitely heard rustling to my left. I stared and stared, but by that time, it was so dark, I was pretty much blind. More rustling sounded to my right. I whipped my head that way and eased my bow from my shoulder, nocking an arrow.

  My pulse thundered in my ears.

  "Luca?" I said softly. But no one answered. Several seconds ticked by.

  When I heard rustling again to my left, closer this time, I let the arrow fly.

  But as I was reaching for another, someone tackled me from the other side.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ~EVANGELIA~

  It felt like we were airborne for a full minute. Which we weren't, obviously, but it felt like that...like my whole life was suspended in time. And when we crashed to the earth, the air was knocked from my lungs with such force that I was in full-on panic. Growing dizzy. I writhed, struggling to leave
the man's grasp, to right myself, hoping my lungs would begin working again. But he stubbornly held on to me.

  He rose with me still in his arms. I was like a limp rag doll, desperately trying to will my lungs to work, wondering if I was about to die, hearing their voices all around me like I was underwater. Like they were Charlie Brown teacher voices. Mwah, mwamwah, mwah...

  Please, God. Help me breathe. I cannot fight if I cannot breathe! The figures danced in front of me as my vision tunneled to a dot.

  My lungs snapped open then, and as I sucked in one ragged breath and then another, my vision immediately steadied. I was surrounded by six men who appeared as little more than silhouettes in dark tunics and leggings, one with an arrow through his shoulder. A seventh man still behind me held on, one arm wrapped around my upper chest, the other around my waist. "That's it, m'lady, breathe. That's a good girl."

  Then the eighth man entered the circle, a lantern in his hand. They parted for him, and he raised his lantern, lifting it until it was inches from my face. He was nondescript. A little taller than I, but not much. Strong and lean, with the coloring of a thousand other Italians, a bulbous nose, strong chin. The others clearly deferred to him.

  He broke out in a huge grin as he studied me. Another brought my mare closer, and they lifted the saddle to show the blanket of Forelli gold. I groaned within, still trying to catch my breath. I'd never escape them if I kept feeling like I was going to pass out at any moment.

  One of the men laughed, and the others did then too. "'Tis a very good day, my friends," said the leader, lifting a tendril of my hair and fingering it. "And so the day is redeemed." He turned then, leaving the way he came. "Bring her."

  My captor let me go, and I stepped forward. But his hand clamped down on my shoulder. "Not too fast, or too far, She-Wolf."

  I clamped my lips shut. So they clearly knew who I was. This was not good. Not good at all. Were these the assassins who had murdered the Santis and Georgii? Or some other enemy? We were still deep within Sienese territory. Of all the rotten luck... Seriously, God? Really? Couldn't You have cut me the tiniest of breaks?

  We moved around a rocky outcropping and entered a clearing. The leader set the lantern down in the center and turned to await me.

  But I saw him then. "Luca!" I cried, breaking free of the man's grip and running toward him, past the leader.

  He was tied, spread-eagled, and barely conscious, hanging from the ropes. His shirt was torn to the waist, hanging open. It looked like he had a spreading bruise across every one of his six-pack abs. His beautiful face had been beaten, one eye already swelling shut, blood dripping from the corner of his lip, a bruise gaining ground on one cheek. He opened his good eye and squinted at me, then groaned. "Nay, nay!" he said, groaning again. "Evangelia, why did you come?"

  I laughed then, feeling like I was losing it, nearly hysterical. "I'm here to save you," I said with a little shake of my head.

  "Excellent," he said, wincing as if speech hurt him. "And how do you fare at your given task?"

  "Not so well," I admitted. "But grant me a moment. I only just arrived."

  He laughed then, a little, his grin even more lopsided than usual.

  I reached out to touch him, but the leader took my hand and pulled me around to face him. "Enough." He turned me closer to the lamp and looked me over again.

  My eyes scanned the group behind him. There. One man with my bow and arrows, admiring the Lerici heads. I had to get to it, somehow.

  The leader followed my gaze. "Ah, nay, m'lady. You shall not be getting your hands on those. You've already robbed me of one knight." He nodded toward a man sitting on a rock, another behind him and cutting away the fabric of his tunic, preparing to pull out the arrow. The wounded man glared at me.

  "You are Fiorentini," I said, needing to know for sure.

  "As certainly as you are Sienese," the leader said with a slight bow. "Forgive me if I do not introduce myself." He crossed his arms and brought one hand to his lips, tapping them. "Tell me," he said, stepping past me and then crossing back. "How is it that you and Sir Forelli are so far from home? And yet apart? To where were you heading?"

  "Tell them nothing!" Luca cried, right before one of the bad guys punched him in the belly. I felt it like he'd punched me instead.

  I stared silently at the leader and those around him. They were not nearly as big as our Forelli knights. More like the track team in school than the football players. Or in Colorado, the climbers. Lithe, but crazy-strong. Ninja assassins, I thought grimly. Able to slip in and out of places we least expected them. Greco had known something about them. Said something about Barbato...

  My enemy squinted at me. "Come now, Lady Betarrini. Everyone knows that the She-Wolves rarely go anywhere unaccompanied." He leaned closer and whispered, as if sharing a secret. "There are enemies about."

  "So I've heard," I said stiffly, staring straight ahead.

  He lifted his brows and straightened. "Impressive, even under duress." He circled me. "So I take it the rumors are true? Sir Forelli is your intended? I am guessing he forbade you to come and you followed him anyway."

  I gave him my best death glare from the corners of my eyes.

  "You She-Wolves are the most odd sort of women. That is, if you are truly women..."

  He reached down to lift my skirts, and I slapped his hands away. "Stop!"

  The men erupted in guffaws and laughter.

  "Better make sure, Captain!"

  "That's the way!"

  "Show us, She-Wolf!"

  Behind him, Luca wrenched against his ropes, but they held tight. There was no trace of humor left in his eyes, only fear and frustration.

  What have I done? I looked around the circle of men. Could I possibly fight my way out, escape into the darkness? But then what? What about Luca?

  "Are Lord Forelli's men coming behind you, Lady Betarrini?" my enemy asked.

  "Of course! These woods are their territory, not yours." At least, I hope they've set out... "And when they do reach you, they shall show you what happens to men who steal beyond their proper borders and murder innocent women and children."

  His hand whipped out faster than I was prepared for. His fingers squeezed on either side of my throat. In seconds, I was on my knees before him. "Your men robbed countless women and children of fathers and husbands," he said with a grunt, close to my face. "We are here to make certain such atrocities do not transpire again." He released me, and I dropped to my hands and knees, gasping for breath.

  He strode over to Luca and took out his knife.

  "Nay!" I gasped, reaching out, begging. Not Luca. Please, Lord. Not Luca.

  But he did not move to slit his throat as I feared. He moved to Luca's shirt and finished cutting it away, exposing the triangular tattoo above his elbow. "This," he said, pointing into the tattoo with the tip of his knife until blood formed and ran down the blade. Luca grimaced and took heaving breaths but did not cry out. "This is what you chase, seeking to warn them."

  He rushed back to me and picked me up by my upper arms, dropping his knife as he did so. He shook me, his eyes wild. "I shall know which of their cursed brothers is ahead. Who? Where?" He shook me again. "Where?"

  "I know not! It is as you guessed. I was merely following Luca!" I pretended to break then, summoning tears for the Santis, for Georgii, to aid me in my act. Big crocodile tears rolled down my face. They didn't know. They didn't know! At least, not about all of them. Lord Santi had not broken confidence. Despite the cost.

  My enemy grimaced and, with a groan of disgust, let me go. I fell like a ragdoll to the ground, my skirts covering his dagger. I clenched the bodice of my gown with my left hand, crying and trembling as if I was a total wimp who'd lost it. And in my right, in the folds of my skirt, I clenched the knife. "Please, just let me go. To take me, or kill me, shall only bring about more bloodshed, not less. Surely you recognize that."

  He took hold of my left hand and leaned down. "It appears that you are female after
all. Mayhap you need a bit of food, a bit of wine. I have forgotten my manners. We shall begin again after you collect yourself."

  I looked up at him, giving him a little-girl look that I hoped would soften him up even further. And then I rose. But as I did so, I whipped around him, bringing my blade up beneath his chin. The men around us erupted in shouts of alarm and movement, swiftly sidling around me.

  The leader tensed and lifted his hands up. "M'lady, what is your course of action? Slay me, and then what? There are still six fully able men to corral you again."

  "Cease! Cease speaking!" I cried. I urged him backward, away from the light, but the men followed us. "Tell them to stay put!"

  "Come and take her," he said. "If I die, I die. Kill her, too, if necessary, and take her body back to Firenze."

  Did this guy never shut up? Luca was wrenching madly, trying to free himself while the men were distracted. But his bonds held. I pressed harder on the knife, and the man came with me, back deep into the shadows. He lurched backward, clearly not caring if I slit his throat—on purpose or by accident—and wrenched my arm away as we twisted and fell.

  I cast about as he rose, until I was able to grab hold of a piece of wood and swing it toward him, desperate to hit him before he got ahold of me.

  But the stick broke in half as it glanced off his skull, obviously rotten in the middle. He grinned, frustratingly unharmed, and dived toward me, but I rolled to the side. He barely missed me, falling to the ground with an ooph, his hand scraping my shoulder. I turned, found my footing, and ran into the darkness, my plan to arc around and get back to Luca to free him.

  Which pretty much didn't work out.

  One man grabbed hold of my skirts, which were flying behind me, and I fell again, cursing wretched medieval gowns and wishing for the thousandth time that I had just one pair of decent jeans. I picked myself up, ready to flee again, but the leader caught up with me and grabbed hold of my arm. He turned it behind my back, which brought me up short. "Back to the clearing," he grunted, panting. "Now."

  We marched back to Luca, who took a deep breath, clearly frustrated that he was seeing me again.