Rose Red (33 page)

“
I left
Domenico Ricci in charge,” Andrea responded, naming one of
the
condottieri.

“I know him well,” Francesco said, to
reassure Vanni. “Of all the mercenary captains at Aullia, he’s the
best. We can trust him.”

“You haven’t said what’s wrong.” All laughter
gone from his face, Vanni met his twin’s eyes. “It’s serious, isn’t
it? If it weren’t, you never would have left Aullia so soon after
taking it.”

“I have the worst possible news for you,”
Andrea said. “Niccolo Stregone has escaped.”

“
Gesu!”
Vanni swore. “How the devil did that happen?”

“In Stregone’s usual way,” Andrea said.
“Flattery, bribery, a bit of treachery in turning two otherwise
decent guards against each other. I have often wondered how
Stregone is able to twist the minds of men so they will do what
they know is wrong. He even got his own dagger back. Or so we
think. It’s missing. You remember it, don’t you, Vanni? It’s the
same dagger that killed our father and wounded you.”

“I am not likely to forget it,” Vanni
replied, rubbing at the arm once slashed by the weapon.

“I sent men out to search for him as soon as
we discovered he was gone,” Andrea continued. “We have learned that
Stregone kept a horse and a packed saddlebag ready and waiting for
him at a farm just outside the city, a fact which suggests he did
not entirely trust his friends the Guidi brothers. But what really
worries me is that, when Francesco and I questioned the guards who
were watching Stregone and who were suborned into letting him
escape, both claimed before they died that Stregone mentioned your
interest in a certain fair-haired lady who lives quietly in the
mountains.”

“You had the guards tortured into making
confessions?” Vanni spoke as if he found this impossible to
believe, and he looked relieved at Andrea’s response.

“You know how I feel about a confession wrung
out of a man by torture,” Andrea said. “It cannot be relied upon.
Subjected to enough pain, a man will say anything to secure relief.
No, it was not me, but Stregone who stabbed the guards who helped
him. No doubt it was his idea of a fitting reward. He used that
cursed dagger of his, and he did it in such a way that the men were
sure to die, but would live long enough to impart the information
to me. He was careful to tell the guards that his spies have
discovered where Eleonora Farisi and her daughters are living.
Stregone wanted me to know where he is going, and he was sure I
would come to you and tell you what I know. This is his way of
issuing a challenge to us.”

“If Stregone knows Bianca’s true identity and
where she is living, then she is in danger.” Vanni was totally
serious, the jesting, teasing young nobleman gone and in his place
a hard-faced warrior.

“So is Rosalinda.” Andrea’s mouth was drawn
into a grim line to match his brother’s expression.

“And Madonna Eleonora as well.” Francesco’s
blue-gray eyes were as cold as ice, and his hand rested on the hilt
of his sword.

“I will leave Luca Nardi in charge here at
Monteferro,” Vanni decided with no hesitation. “Francesco, how many
men do you think we should take with us?”

“Just the three of us are going,” said
Francesco. “The fewer we are, the faster we can travel. Stregone is
most likely alone, so numbers aren’t important.”

“He’s right,” Andrea said to Vanni. “Speed is
what matters. We have to reach Villa Serenita before Stregone does,
and he has been on his way since midnight. Once we warn Bartolomeo,
he will provide men-at-arms, and we will have all the help we
need.”

“Vanni, you should change out of those fancy
clothes you’re wearing,” Francesco said, eyeing the younger man’s
blue velvet and gold robes. “I will see to the horses and
provisions. We ride within the hour.”

“I don’t know what is wrong with me today. I
cannot sit still.” Rosalinda left her lessons at the table in the
sitting room and went to stare out the window. “Perhaps I have been
good too long,” she said on a sad, little laugh.

“
It’s not
that.” Bianca joined her sister, linking arms with her. “I am oddly
restless, too. It’s as if something is happening – or is going to
happen soon – that deeply concerns me and I am only waiting to
learn of it. I have no taste for lessons, either.”

“If only I could ride,” Rosalinda said,
closing her eyes so she could imagine it, “just mount my horse and
ride with the wind in my face, across the meadows and into the
hills.”

“I think it would be most unwise for you to
get onto a horse,” Bianca said. After looking around to be sure no
one had come into the room, she lowered her voice and said, “Think
of the baby, my dear.”

“The baby is all I have been thinking of,”
Rosalinda answered. “It’s why I made so many mistakes in Latin
today. I am going to have to tell Mother in the next few days.”

“It will be for the best,” Bianca said.

“I’m not sure of that, but it must be done.
You and I know how cautious Mother always is. Once I tell her, she
will insist I give up riding altogether. I will be confined to the
villa all through the autumn, my favorite season. Then the snows
will come, and she probably won’t let me set one foot outside the
door until after the baby is born. I will go mad from being
confined.”

Biting her lip to keep tears of frustration
at bay, Rosalinda rubbed her hands over her abdomen. She was
halfway through her pregnancy, and to her it seemed she was growing
rounder by the hour. The high-waisted gowns she wore had hidden her
condition until now, but soon it would be obvious to everyone.
Rosalinda was certain that only Bianca’s clever handling of their
monthly linens and Eleonora’s distraction about the affairs of
Monteferro had so far prevented her observant mother from asking
probing questions.

“You must not endanger the child,” Bianca
said.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Rosalinda promised.
“But if I were to take a gentler horse than my usual mount, and if
you were to go with me, I cannot think there would be any harm in a
short ride.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Bianca said,
hesitating.

“
I feel
perfectly well,” Rosalinda insisted. “The slight sickness that
formerly plagued me in the mornings has disappeared, apparently for
good. If it were not necessary to keep this secret, and if I were
not so worried about Andrea, I could honestly say that I have never
been healthier or in better spirits. But I need to move! I want
fresh air and sunshine.”

Rosalinda did not add that she also craved
the exhilaration of following steep tracks to the high meadows
where dainty flowers bloomed and icy little streams carried the
sweetest, coldest water in the world. Bianca was a different kind
of person and so, no matter how much she loved her sister, Bianca
would never understand how important it was to Rosalinda to stand
in an open alpine meadow and lift her face to the heavenly blue sky
and the warm sun, to feel free and unfettered by the rules that
bound young women even here, in this serene and remote
location.

With her hand still on the roundness that
contained her baby, Rosalinda accepted the truth that she would
never be unfettered again. The child she carried bound her firmly
to the lower altitudes. There was no sense of loss in the
realization, only an acknowledgement on Rosalinda’s part that she
was soon to embark upon a new aspect of her life. Before she could
do that, she wanted to say farewell to the freedom of her
youth.

“If you promise to be very careful,” Bianca
said, “I will go with you.”

“Thank you.” Tears stung Rosalinda’s eyelids.
“I need to make this one last trek into the hills.”

“I don’t know why it’s so,” Bianca said, “but
I do understand that you feel a deep connection to those mountains.
And it’s I who should thank you for letting me go with you, when
I’m sure you would rather go alone.”

Rosalinda nodded, unable to speak just then.
Bianca noticed her slightly teary mood and tried to lighten it.

“I do wonder,” Bianca whispered, “whether you
are going to be able to fasten that doublet you insist on wearing
when you ride.”

“I admit, I hadn’t thought about it.”
Rosalinda’s mood veered abruptly, as it often had in recent days.
Tears forgotten, she chuckled at the image Bianca had suggested. “I
will just have to start a dashing new style and wear my doublet
unfastened.”

On a burst of gentle laughter, the sisters
put away their lessons and hurried to change into riding
clothes.

* * * * *

Two hours after Rosalinda and Bianca had
departed on their ride, Andrea, Vanni, and Francesco reached the
boundary of Villa Serenita lands.

“Signores, you must leave at once.” Lorenzo
was the sentry on duty, and he held up a hand to stop the three who
had come galloping along the path at breakneck speed. “I have
specific orders from Madonna Eleonora not to admit any of you
again, under any circumstances.”

“Madonna Eleonora’s life may be in danger,”
Francesco declared, “not to mention the lives of her daughters. We
have come to warn them.”

“I am sorry, signores, but I must obey my
orders. You may not pass.”

Andrea noticed Vanni setting his shoulders
and gathering the reins more tightly into his hands. Knowing his
brother as well as he knew his own heart, Andrea was sure Vanni
intended to make a dash for it, to rush past Lorenzo, to ride the
sentry down if he must, in order to reach the villa. Just as
surely, Andrea knew the unfortunate effect such a precipitous
action would have on Eleonora. The woman would refuse to listen to
anything Vanni or his companions had to say, and she would scoff at
their warnings, calling them an excuse the men were using to get to
her daughters. Diplomacy was called for in this instance, not
impetuous action.

Stifling his own desire to dig his spurs into
his horse’s sides and ride with Vanni, Andrea sent a stern glance
his brother’s way and shook his head. He was relieved to see Vanni
sit back in his saddle, awaiting Andrea’s next movement.

“Lorenzo.” Andrea leaned forward over the
neck of his horse. “You and I became friends last winter, while you
helped me to recover my skills with weapons. Did we not?”

“So we did,” Lorenzo said, “and I regret the
necessity to refuse you entrance to the villa. I beg you to
understand my position.”

“I do understand,” Andrea replied. “Were I to
set a man as sentry for me, I would expect him to be as scrupulous
about following my orders as you are about the orders you have been
given.”

“Thank you, signore.” Lorenzo nodded his
agreement with these sentiments, and Andrea was pleased to note
that he relaxed his rigid stance to a small degree.

“However,” Andrea continued, “there is a
favor you could do for me that will not defy orders. I see you have
a second guard nearby. Is that Giuseppe?” Andrea indicated a
mounted man-at-arms a short distance away, who was watching them as
if he were wondering if he ought to join Lorenzo. “You could send
him to Bartolomeo with a message from me, and we could leave it to
Bartolomeo to decide whether I and my companions are to be
admitted.”

“I could,” Lorenzo said after taking a while
to consider this proposal, “but only if all three of you give your
word of honor not to attack me once I am alone with you.”

“By heaven, I’ll attack both of them if they
keep us waiting here much longer,” Vanni muttered. In a louder
voice he said, “Bianca’s life is in danger. Don’t you care about
that, Lorenzo?”

“No, Vanni, it’s as I said.” Andrea raised a
cautionary hand to his brother. “If you or I give orders to the
guards in our employ, we expect those orders to be followed.
Lorenzo is only doing his duty. We don’t want to get him into
trouble, but we do want Bartolomeo to learn we are here, and as
promptly as possible, because we have come on an urgent
errand.”

By this time the second guard, Giuseppe, had
ridden over to join Lorenzo.

“We give you our word,” Andrea said, speaking
to both of the sentries, “that we will remain where we are until
Bartolomeo is told that we are here, and we will abide by the
decision he makes about admitting us.”

“Very well, signore,” Lorenzo agreed. “What
you ask is reasonable and I will accept your word. Go, Giuseppe.
You have heard him; you know what to say.” At a jerk of Lorenzo’s
head, the second guard set off for the villa.

The three impatient travelers settled
themselves to wait. After a little while, Lorenzo agreed to
Andrea’s request that they be allowed to walk their lathered horses
and water them in a nearby stream. This meant they were actually
upon Villa Serenita land, but when Vanni whispered a suggestion
that they remount and ride as fast as they could to the villa,
Andrea refused.

“Aside from the dishonor of breaking our word
and the impossibility of convincing Eleonora to listen to us if we
take such action,” Andrea said, “Bartolomeo keeps the men-at-arms
well trained and ready for combat. If we are wounded, or worse, we
won’t be much help to anyone.”

“We have seen no sign of Stregone,” Francesco
noted, attempting to allay Vanni’s concerns. “Even though he had a
horse available to him, he will have to take care to avoid the men
Andrea sent to search for him, a problem that ought to delay him
for some time. My guess is that we are here well ahead of that
villainous dwarf.”

“If Stregone thought we could get ahead of
him,” Vanni objected, “he never would have let those guards he
stabbed know where he was going. He intended to be here first,
waiting for us when we arrive.”

“I’m afraid I agree with you, Vanni, but for
the moment, there is nothing we can do except wait,” Andrea said.
He kicked at a clump of grass, finding it did nothing to relieve
the strain of worry over Rosalinda’s safety. He could only hope
that Eleonora, in her role of strict mother, was keeping her
daughters close to the villa. “Where in the name of all the saints
is Bartolomeo? Does he plan to let us stay here with no word from
him until we grow weary and leave?”