The Boy Who Wept Blood (18 page)

32

Stephania’s Plight
–
15 Agosto
325

‘Your fascination with this establishment constantly puzzles me.’ Dino looked around the piazza, then inspected the contents of the wooden mug. The
taverna
was busy but the proprietor had cleared a table. Guests such as the Contadino swordsman and his Orfano friend could not be turned away. The near-white sun blazed down, unimpeded by cloud, the air dry and still.

‘It never hurts to be among the
cittadini
,’ said Massimo. ‘The
nobili
might be more honest if they stepped beyond the castle walls occasionally.’

‘On that we can agree. I’m still undecided about the
taverna
though.’

Massimo smiled. For a second Dino could forget the whole tawdry business of Demesne. He looked across the piazza to the statue of the saint, where a crowd of the very poorest of the
cittadini
had gathered. Stephania and the disciple of Santa Maria were giving out portions of bread and wizened vegetables. Four guards stood nearby showing the barest interest. The disciple caught Dino’s gaze with her mismatched eyes.

‘Rumour is that Guido was hoping to petition Lady Diaspora for the right to rule House Fontein.’

‘Can you imagine it?’ Dino rolled his eyes. ‘
Porca miseria
.’

‘It seems the duchess was content to pass the title on to him.’

‘But now Anea’s reduced the influence of the major houses.’

Massimo nodded. ‘No dukedom for Guido, but he’s gained support among the minor houses.’

‘How many houses?’ said Dino.

Massimo shrugged. ‘Hard to know.’

‘He’ll use that support to get himself voted in as commander of the guard.’

‘The Fonteins were always shits,’ said Massimo in a rare moment of bitterness.

‘That’s one bloodline I’m happy to see the last of,’ said Dino, sounding anything but cheerful.

‘You really think it’s the end of the Fonteins?’ Massimo snorted. ‘You can’t tell me the old duke didn’t father some bastards. They say he was handy with more than just a blade.’

‘He was feeding his length to Lady Allattamento for years.’ The Orfano paused. ‘Stands to reason his infidelity didn’t stop there.’

Dino imagined a handful of illegitimate sons waiting to strike back against their father’s killer. He struggled to breathe a moment before his thoughts strayed to the portrait of the woman in the duke’s chamber. ‘Curious that people always think of bastards as male,’ he whispered.

‘What?’

‘Just thinking aloud.’ Dino drank and was surprised. ‘The wine’s undergone a significant improvement since the last time we were here.’

‘I brought it with me.’ Massimo took a sip and smiled again. He was clean shaven as ever. Dino regarded Massimo’s strong calloused fingers holding the wooden mug, his other hand clutching the girth of the bottle. His mind wandered. ‘The whole of Demesne is laying bets on whether you and the
capo
draw steel before this voting takes place.’

‘How are my odds?’ asked Dino.

‘I didn’t ask.’ Massimo refilled his mug. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if all of Landfall was betting on the outcome. We should get in some more practice, and soon.’

Dino tensed, mind lingering often on the previous day’s training session.

‘Ever find yourself imagining what it would be like to rule Landfall?’ said the swordsman in a quiet voice, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

‘Bloody.’ Dino flashed a vicious smile. ‘All the more reason not to do it. I wouldn’t wish that task on anyone.’

Massimo’s attention was drawn by the crowd of paupers. His eyes widened, then narrowed.

‘Is that …?’

‘Lady Stephania Prospero.’

‘Another convert to the cult of Santa Maria,’ said Massimo.

‘Or she’s making a very cunning play to become mayor,’ said Dino after a pause. ‘The cult has been positioning itself as the champion of the downtrodden. What better way to attract votes from the
cittadini
?’

‘Stephania’s not the only one who’s aligned herself with the Marians,’ said Massimo.

‘I know. I made some enquiries.’ Dino shrugged when Massimo looked surprised. ‘I’m a spy – it’s what I do.’

‘Who else?’

‘Houses Elemosina and Di Toro have been making contributions to the poor.’

‘That’s no great surprise,’ replied Massimo. ‘I imagine Medea asked in such a way they couldn’t refuse.’

Elemosina and Di Toro were both minor houses that had enjoyed a long relationship with the Contadinos, having rooms in that very house.

‘Would it surprise you that House Sapiente is also paying into the cult’s fund. Namely for the construction of the church itself.’

‘I though Maestro Fidelio was taking pains to keep House Erudito politically neutral?’

‘But religion isn’t politics, is it?’ replied Dino, taking a sip of wine. ‘And Fidelio doesn’t know what his minor houses do behind his back. House Sapiente in particular were strong supporters of Cherubini.’

They looked across the piazza. Stephania continued to give out food with a smile and a kind word for all.

‘She’d make a good mayor,’ said Dino.

‘Margravio Contadino would be happy with that. Shame she isn’t younger and Luc a bit older. That would be a political marriage to be reckoned with.’

‘I wish,’ said Dino, knocking back more of the wine.

‘Seems you’re wishing for a great many things lately.’

‘And if wishes were wolves …’

‘We’d all be lying around with our throats …’

‘Ripped out.’ They laughed. It was a common saying in Landfall since the Verde Guerra, but not popular at court.

‘Where did the guards go?’ said Dino rising to his feet. He shielded his eyes with the flat of his palm.

Massimo knocked back some more of the wine. ‘I’m sure they’re close by,’ he said with a shrug.

‘Not close enough. Come on. I’ll bring the wine.’

They were halfway across the piazza when the raiders appeared. If the guards were close at hand they were dead already. The maudlin crowd scattered, an unkindness of ravens taking to wing. Someone fell, a loaf of dark bread tumbling from their grasp.

‘
Tempo. Velocita. Misura
,’ whispered Dino.

Massimo drew his blade and surged ahead. Dino followed, drawing his own steel, surrendering to the surge of adrenaline. Three men in grey saw them, detaching themselves from the group, perhaps a score in total. One bore a halberd liberated from a Fontein guard. He levelled the pole-arm at Dino and ran at him, only to fall on his arse as the wine bottle bounced from his forehead.

‘You didn’t have to throw it,’ complained Massimo as he parried an incoming blow. He slammed an elbow into his opponent’s face.

‘Sorry,’ grunted Dino.

‘Such a waste,’ grumbled the swordsman. Massimo’s following slash opened the man up, leaving him on his knees, armfuls of purple entrails spilling out. He stared at his undoing with shocked fascination.

The raiders were too busy filling sacks to care about the noblewoman in their midst until she drew the knife. The metal glittered in the daylight.

‘Stephania, no!’ Dino shouted over the din. The Orfano lashed out with his blade, stepping past his next opponent, not bothering to finish him. A raider set aside his pillaging and advanced on Stephania, face unreadable beneath the hood. Dino pressed further into the chaos of bodies, Stephania still several feet away. He would not reach her in time.

The first halberd strike went high. She threw herself back, stumbling over the table. The halberd slammed down, splitting the tabletop as she rolled away from the opposite side, now strewn with splinters. Dino leaped onto the table and stamped a foot on the shaft, trapping the weapon. The man didn’t have the sense to release the pole-arm; Dino split his head open for his stupidity. A shower of gore erupted across the pristine white of the disciple of Santa Maria, who threw up her arms to shield her face, shrieking in horror. Dino hopped down from the table and offered his hand to Stephania, speechless with shock. He pulled her upright.

‘What’s happening?’ she asked, eyes dulled with confusion.

The Orfano lunged past her, thrusting his steel into the back of a raider engaged with Massimo. The man jolted upright with a scream, twisting. Dino clawed a free hand around the man’s throat, thrusting the blade deeper. The tip emerged from the man’s chest and the scream became a wheeze. Massimo parried an incoming club with his knife and unleashed a savage riposte with his sword, taking the man’s arm off at the elbow.

The raiders fled, each clutching a sack loaded with food.

‘Back to Demesne,’ grunted Dino, grabbing Stephania by the elbow. ‘Make sure she gets to safety,’ he shouted at Massimo, indicating the gore-spattered disciple. The swordsman nodded and they headed back through streets filled with panic.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Stephania over and over.

The quickest way into Demesne was through the Contadino courtyard, but Dino had no wish to go there, instead leading them beneath the triumphal arch where House Contadino stood alongside House Prospero at a flat run. The double doors that led to the Central Keep lay ahead, imposing and impregnable. The pommel of his weapon beat a staccato summons. He turned to check they hadn’t been followed. Massimo trailed them by several feet, escorting the disciple. His tabard had been laid open at the shoulder, the white shirt beneath now dark with blood.

‘
Figlio di puttana!
Open the door!’

Raiders darted past the triumphal arch. Smoke now hazed the blue sky. More shouts and screaming could be heard, the clash of steel.

Wood groaned and hinges complained. An old face appeared in the gap, whiskery and gap-toothed.

‘My lord?’

‘Good man,’ breathed Dino. The four of them hustled into the cool darkness of the Central Keep.

They didn’t stop until they found themselves in Stephania’s apartment. Massimo and the disciple had vanished along another corridor. Dino gasped down air with his back to the door, still clutching his blade, sweat starting to cool. He unbuttoned his jacket and locked the door. Stephania collapsed onto a divan in her sitting room, staring glassy-eyed.

‘I need a drink, and so do you.’ He crossed the room to where a cabinet stood in an alcove. A
caraffa
of red wine waited with a cluster of glasses. He made to pour but his hands were shaking.

Stephania approached, soft hands easing the
caraffa
from his grasp. She’d let her hair down, dark brown tresses tumbling down the sides of her face. Dino surrendered the wine to her, watching her place it back in the cabinet.

‘I wanted a drink …’ But the words dried up as she pressed herself against him, fingers tracing the lines of his face, so warm, trembling with frailty. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him, held him.

‘You came for me.’ The words were no more than a breath barely formed.

‘The guards, they abandoned their post.’ Dino shrugged. ‘I …’

She tilted her head, pressing closer, arms slipping around his waist. Dino opened his mouth to speak and felt her tongue dart across his lips. The Orfano closed his eyes, wanting to surrender to the rise and swell of sensation, but the face in the darkness of his mind was not Stephania’s but Massimo’s.

He jolted away, face flushed, unable to breathe. Her eyes filled with confusion, shifted to accusation.

‘I don’t … Why won’t you …?’ The words died on her lips.

‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’ He backed off a step, unable to meet her eye. ‘I should go. They’ll need me.’

‘Dino, I’m sorry.’ She held her hands out to him. ‘I just …’

He made to leave, scabbard slapping against an armchair as he rushed to the door. Awkward seconds passed as he fumbled at the key in the lock, stumbling into the corridor, glad to be free of the wounded gaze of Lady Prospero.

33

Contadino’s Request
–
16 Agosto
325

Dino spent the morning after the attack training some of Demesne’s guards. There was no curse known to man he did not unleash upon them. The air in the practice yard was arid, the smells of sweat and leather drifting on the meagre breeze and the Orfano’s impatience rose with the day’s heat, threatening to become a searing anger. A handful of novices lingered at the edge of the practice yard, giving the
superiore
sullen looks. They’d hoped to see capable soldiers demonstrating the finer points of combat. Not a soul present wasn’t aggrieved in some way.

‘My lord,’ said Ruggeri. He’d approached Dino as the guards took a moment to refresh themselves at the end of the session.

‘How did we become so lax?’ Dino scowled. ‘After everything we went through in the Verde Guerra? They don’t deserve to wear the scarlet and black.’

‘These are not the men who abandoned Stephania Prospero yesterday.’ Ruggeri flashed a look over his shoulder to make sure they were not overheard. ‘You shouldn’t punish them for the failure of others.’

The Orfano glowered, but mention of Stephania silenced him, bringing a wealth of misery with every syllable of her name. The soldiers filed out of the courtyard, more than a handful shooting wary or hostile looks at the Orfano as they departed.

‘Demesne is afire with talk of your actions yesterday, my lord.’

‘You would have done the same if you’d been there.’ A flash of memory brought the sensation of Stephania’s lips to mind – and his inability to surrender to them.

‘It was a brave thing,’ continued Ruggeri, ‘saving Lady Prospero and all.’

‘Did we discover what happened to the four guards in the piazza?’ asked Dino, keen to avoid further mention of the noblewoman.

‘They were found in a side street with their throats cut. They paid a high price for their laxity.’

‘There’s nothing lax about those two.’ Dino gestured to the far side of the courtyard where D’arzenta and the
capo
were locked in argument.

‘Guido fancies himself for commander of guard in the elections,’ said Ruggeri.

‘But D’arzenta is worried he won’t get the votes he needs.’

‘D’arzenta worries you’ll stand against him.’ Ruggeri sighed.

‘And what do you worry about?’

‘I’m not paid to worry; I’m paid to teach.’ Ruggeri shook his head. ‘Are you going to give the novices the brunt of your bad temper this afternoon?’

‘No,’ Dino replied, not meeting the eyes of the
maestro di spada.
‘I think it best I retire for the day.’

‘Take care, my lord. Get some rest.’

‘Thank you, Ruggeri.’ Dino turned from the empty courtyard and the fierce sun above to wend his way through the stifling corridors of Demesne.

The walk back to his apartment was uneventful. Dino shrugged off his jacket and hung it from the back of the armchair nearest the door. A
caraffa
of wine had been brought up, left on the sideboard with clean glasses. The previous night’s empty bottle had been removed. It was of small consequence; didn’t all the nobles drink a similar amount?

He was unbuckling his sword belt just as the bedroom door yawned open. He flung the belt up, scabbard and all, then caught the sword hilt and shucked the blade free in a circling motion. His opponent was armed only with linen.

‘Fiorenza.’ Dino released a breath. ‘Forgive me. I’m on edge and wasn’t expecting you.’

The maid smiled after a moment’s hesitation, her gaze lingering on the blade. She clutched the bundle of bedclothes more tightly.

‘I can’t say I blame you in the light of yesterday. I only came for the sheets. I can come back later if you’d prefer?’

‘It’s fine.’ Dino sheathed the sword. ‘I’m going to rest. Have the afternoon for yourself.’

‘Thank you.’ Fiorenza made to exit, then thought better of it. ‘Is it true you saved Lady Prospero?’

Dino nodded and crossed to the sideboard, not trusting himself to speak. He reached for the wine then paused before pouring water instead.

‘She’s very beautiful,’ ventured Fiorenza.

Dino nodded again, unwilling to meet the woman’s eyes.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow perhaps?’ Fiorenza curtsied and left the room.

‘She
is
very beautiful,’ said Dino, but no sooner had the words passed his lips than the image of Massimo came to him. Achilles scuttled from under the couch and began the ascent up one leg.

‘I wondered where you were hiding.’ Dino reached down and hefted the reptile onto his shoulder. ‘Perhaps we should train you with a blade. I trust you more than I trust the guards.’

Achilles blinked and flicked out a black tongue. A muted conversation was taking place in the corridor, one of the voices belonged to Fiorenza. Dino waited for the rap of knuckles on wood then closed a fist around the door handle.

‘When did it become so difficult to enjoy a moment’s peace?’ he asked the drake in a whisper and opened the door.

‘Marchesa.’
Medea Contadino stood in the corridor, a look of relief on her face, almost as pale as the gown she wore.

‘It is good to see you unharmed, my lord.’ There was a tired, wary look in her eyes.

Dino gestured her in and bade her sit down. ‘You really don’t have to bother with the formalities. I’m long past caring. Wine?’

‘No, thank you, Dino.’

‘How is Massimo? He took a wound yesterday.’

‘He’s fine.’ ‘The
dottore
saw him. If you hadn’t been there—’

‘That’s not the case. It was Massimo who invited me to the
taverna
. We defended Stephania together.’

‘You’re very honest, Dino, but the
cittadini
tell a different story. You’re quite the hero, but I’m concerned that good reputation is about to be undone.’

‘How so?’ Dino frowned, wishing he’d had some wine after all. The water was tepid and tasted of grit.

‘The
nobili
have long been fascinated by your friendship with Massimo, and after the other day …’

‘When we were late for the session of the Ravenscourt.’

‘Exactly,’ said Medea. ‘We’ve barely recovered from the shock of Cherubini.’

‘Cherubini wasn’t hurting anyone.’ Dino fell silent, the anger in his voice all too clear.

Medea looked away for a second. ‘I didn’t say that he was, nor am I offended by what he is, but many are and many find it disgusting.’

‘And now they’re talking about me.’

‘Yes.’ Medea laced her fingers and looked thoughtful.

‘And I’m already disgusting on account of being Orfano.’ His eye slipped to his forearm.

‘Is there someone,’ Medea paused and swallowed, ‘some woman that you are keen on?’

‘When would I have the time to court a woman?’ Dino nearly stumbled on the words. It was not a question he’d asked before.

‘I appreciate Stephania Prospero is somewhat older …’ Medea faltered as she saw the expression cross Dino’s face ‘… and that her mother wanted her to marry Lucien, but she would be a good match, if only politically.’

‘I’m not marrying in response to the first flurry of gossip. If people think me
invertito
they can call me out. I’ll give them an answer in steel.’ Dino looked down at his boots, well aware of how ridiculous he sounded.

‘It’s not the first flurry of gossip, Dino. I really do think you should marry. As an Orfano you can do as you please. You don’t have to marry nobility if there’s a woman among the
cittadini
who’s taken your eye.’

‘You’re talking about Speranza.’

Medea flushed and said nothing.

‘As if I don’t have enough to worry about, now I have to consider a wedding and a bride.’ Dino crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of wine. It was larger than he intended, so he told himself.

‘Any word from the town today?’ he asked before taking a sip.

‘Emilo and I went to the market. We felt a show of confidence might make people feel more at ease.’ The visit had not been entirely well received judging by her tight smile. ‘The rest of the town was unaffected. Fires were lit to create a distraction but it was the food they were after. The fires failed to take hold or were quickly extinguished by the
cittadini
.’

‘That’s fortunate.’

‘Fortune had nothing to do with it. My husband insisted we buy a hundred pails after the first attack. We handed them out just this week.’

‘If only the rest of the
nobili
were so prudent, or so charitable.’ Dino released a breath. ‘What happened to the disciple?’

‘Agostina? She’s safe. I have her at my apartment, recovering from the shock.’

‘And you trust her?’

‘She’s not political, Dino. The people trust her; I trust her.’

‘You can’t blame me for being wary.’ Dino sat forward, cradling his wine in both hands. ‘An uninvited guest arrives at a funeral and ushers in a rain of ants …’

‘That wasn’t her doing. You can’t believe that, Dino.’

‘I don’t, but I’m a soldier. I dislike ambiguity as much I dislike disobedience. What agenda is she pushing?’

‘Faith needs no agenda.’

Dino slumped into the armchair, sipping his wine as Achilles slithered down to the floor, coiling about his boots. Medea fussed with the sleeve of her gown.

‘So are you going to tell me why you’re here, or were you hoping to make a convert?’ Dino forced a smile but Medea was unimpressed with his attempt to lighten the mood.

‘I need your complete confidence.’

Dino raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought we were long past such assurances. I’ve always been a staunch ally of House Contadino.’

‘This is different.’ Medea narrowed her eyes. ‘Duchess Prospero sent my husband a letter. She fears she is about to suffer a betrayal by a close ally. She wants to meet my husband alone to discuss coming over to our side.’

‘Duchess Fontein has severed links with House Prospero?’

‘We don’t know for sure. It could be a disagreement with House Allattamento. We just don’t know.’

‘This is perfect.’ Dino grinned. ‘Duchess Prospero needs our help. I couldn’t have wished for fortune like this.’ He took another sip of wine.

‘He can’t meet her, Dino.’ Medea’s face was taut with worry, fingers tightly laced. ‘She wants to meet in the woodland beyond the cemetery, for secrecy.’

‘Small wonder you’re anxious.’

‘It bears the stench of a trap. And yet Emilio refuses to pass up the chance to make an ally.’

‘What do you need?’

‘Go with him. I know Massimo will escort him, regardless of whether they want him to go alone, but after yesterday …’

‘Massimo’s wounded shoulder.’

Medea nodded and wrung her hands, eyes brimming with concern.

Dino stood and crossed to the fireplace. ‘When?’

‘The day after tomorrow.’

‘Of course I’ll go, Medea.’

She stood up and crossed the room, standing on tiptoe, taking his face in both hands. For a second he remembered Stephania in the very same pose just the day before. Medea pressed her lips to his forehead just as Camelia used to do when he were younger.

‘I don’t know what we’d do without you, Dino. I fear we’d all be lost.’ She smiled with a sadness he found unbearable. ‘Have you visited Stephania today? Is she well?’

‘No.’ Dino blushed scarlet. ‘I suppose I should.’ He knew he’d struggle to explain to Stephania why he’d shunned her kiss; he’d struggle more to make the journey to her door.

‘I should return,’ said Medea. ‘Emilio will be worrying.’

Dino opened the door. ‘You have an escort?’

‘Of course. Nardo and Abramo are waiting at the end of the corridor.’

‘You’ve got Nardo playing bodyguard?’

‘I trust him.’

‘And to think –’ Dino smiled ‘– this was supposed to be my secret apartment. Seems all of Landfall knows where I sleep.’

‘Let’s hope not,’ said Medea, then turned away into the gloom of Demesne’s corridors.