The Wind Dancer

by Iris Johansen

  He closed the book and, as they approached, his gaze ran over Sanchia in cool appraisal. "She's younger than I thought. Will she be adequate?"

  "She'd better be." Lion grimaced. "She's becoming a very expensive acquisition. If we don't get out of Florence soon, I may have to sell Mandara to pay for her."

  Lorenzo stood up and bowed mockingly. "Lorenzo Vasaro, at your service, Madonna Sanchia."

  A hint of mischief crossed Lion's face. "As a matter of fact, there is a service you can do her. How kind of you to offer."

  "There they are." Sanchia had spied Elizabet, Bartolomeo, and Piero across the piazza. "I'll go get them and explain... " Her words trailed away as she started off at a run toward the children.

  Lorenzo's gaze followed Sanchia across the wide piazza. She reached the children and began speaking quickly and with great urgency. "You haven't, by any chance, bought those other waifs, too?"

  "Not exactly. But it appears our Sanchia has a very motherly nature and wishes to get her brood settled before she leaves the city. Go with her and spend what you need to make sure the children are safe." He frowned. "And get her something to eat. She looks half starved."

  "Our Sanchia?"

  Lion shrugged. "My Sanchia, then. It seems reasonable to set her mind at rest before taking her to Solinari."

  "Very reasonable," Lorenzo said solemnly. "I can see that you'd never want your slave to suffer the distresses of worry."

  "You find it amusing?" Lion asked. "Gold doesn't always buy what we want, and I need her loyalty."

  "And you think settling these three children will purchase what you want from her?"

  Lion's gaze flew to Sanchia. She was kneeling on the flagstones beside the smallest child, speaking persuasively, her features illuminated with such a loving radiance that Lion found himself unable to look away from her. "Yes," he said slowly. "This will buy me what I want."

  Chapter Three.

  Where are you taking me?" Sanchia asked as she hurried to keep up with Lorenzo's long strides.

  "The casaof Giulia Marzo," Lorenzo answered. "We're staying there while we're in Florence."

  "I've heard of her. She's a famous courtesan and has many rich lovers. Is my lord Andreas rich? I guess he must be or he wouldn't have been able to pay so much for me. He mentioned a place called Mandara. Is that where we're going when we leave Florence? I've never been away from Florence since we came here when I was three. That's when I was sold to Giovanni and--"

  "Enough!" Lorenzo sighed. "Don't you ever stop talking? You've chattered unceasingly since we left the baker's house."

  "I always talk when I'm frightened." Sanchia smiled tremulously. "And I'm very frightened right now. I feel... strange."

  "You didn't appear frightened when you were arguing with that baker about your pretty Elizabet's dowry."

  "That was different. Messer Benedetto had to be made to realize what a bargain he was getting in Elizabet. He has a very prosperous shop and could make a much better match for Alessandro. I was worried that if he wasn't totally satisfied with Elizabet he wouldn't accept Piero." She turned to look at him. "Thank the saints you were there. You helped to settle it far more quickly than I'd hoped."

  "Me?" He lifted a brow. "I said nothing."

  "I know, but that didn't matter. You made him feel uneasy and he wanted you gone. I think you must make most people uneasy."

  "I don't appear to intimidate you," he said dryly. "Did no one ever tell you that it's not wise to be so frank? Many men wouldn't like to be told their presence makes one uneasy."

  She looked at him in surprise. "But you don't mind. You've lived with it so long it's become a part of you."

  "You're very perceptive." He studied her face. "You read people well. I noticed that with Messer Arcolo and then again with Benedetto. You sought out their desires and motives and then used them to suit yourself."

  "It was necessary," she said simply. "Sometimes our wits are the only weapons we have. Haven't you found that to be true, Messer Lorenzo?"

  "Yes." He was silent a moment. "But I wouldn't attempt to manipulate Lion as you did the good baker. It might prove dangerous."

  "I wouldn't do that. I've given him my pledge." She tried to smile. "But it would make me feel better if you'd tell me something about Lord Andreas. I've never belonged to anyone but Giovanni and that wasn't like being a slave at all."

  "Indeed? Because he was so kind to you?"

  She shook her head. "Oh no, Giovanni is too selfish to be kind to anyone. It's too much trouble for him. When I was a child I resented him, but when I came to realize what a stupid man he is it was easier." She shrugged. "All I had to do was give him what made him comfortable and he would leave me alone."

  "Manipulation again," Vasaro murmured. "Taking in three children off the street doesn't seem the act of a selfish man."

  "I had to convince him that it would be a purely selfish thing to do," Sanchia said. "Bartolomeo and Elizabet are brother and sister and lived next door to Giovanni. When their parents died of the fever three years ago they had no relations to help them and I couldn't let them be tossed into the streets. So I told Giovanni how clever everyone would think him if he took them into the shop. It would be as if he had three slaves instead of one--and without having to pay an extra ducat for them. I promised I'd see to it they were no trouble and that I'd share my food with them."

  "Evidently you kept your word. You're skin and bones."

  She made a face. "It didn't work. There was never enough food to go around. Then when Piero came to live with us, I knew something would have to be done. I was a slave, so I could work for no one but Giovanni, and every time I asked him for extra money he would threaten to throw the children out."

  "So you began to steal." Vasaro's tone was expressionless. "That particular bit of charity could have cost you your hands."

  She winced. "I know, but it wasn't charity." They started across the Ponte Vecchio, which was lined almost exclusively with the shops of prosperous silk merchants and goldsmiths. Sanchia saw none of them as she gazed into the cloudy waters of the Arno. "They were my family. I was afraid but I'd still do it again. I was so alone before they came."

  "And now you're alone again."

  "Nothing lasts forever." She added philosophically, "I would have had to do something to protect Elizabet soon anyway. She's too pretty and that's a danger for a woman. And Giovanni was drinking more and more and the business was failing and that meant Bartolomeo would have had to take a position elsewhere."

  "And Piero?"

  "Piero... " Her expression became wistful. "I hoped I could keep Piero for a while." She shook her head and blinked back the tears stinging her eyes. How stupid to cry now when she had managed to stay dry-eyed all through their farewells. Elizabet wept when confronted with any change, and Sanchia had seen tears in Bartolomeo's eyes when they had left him with Messer Arcolo. But Piero hadn't cried. He had only gazed at her with those fierce blue eyes and grasped her hand so tightly it had hurt for several minutes after Sanchia and Lorenzo had left the baker's shop. "But Piero will be safe with Elizabet. She's very loving and--" Her voice broke and she drew a deep breath. "They'll all be much better off than they were with Giovanni."

  "And what of you?" Lorenzo's gaze searched her face. "Do you think you're better off too?"

  "I don't know." She looked directly at him. "Am I?"

  "I, too, do not know the answer." A faint smile touched his lips. "Lion has never had a slave before. It's going to be interesting to watch his reaction to the situation."

  "And you'll like that, won't you? I think you must always stand back and watch as if we're all players for your entertainment." She was silent a moment and then asked, "If he doesn't have any other slaves, why did he buy me?"

  "I think I'll let him tell you his plans for you."

  She grinned coaxingly. "Don't you want to watch my reaction, too? If you tell me, I'll promise you that my response will be very satisfying."

  Lorenzo s
miled in genuine amusement. "Are you also trying to manipulate me? You must enjoy walking along the edge of a precipice."

  "I'm sorry." The vitality in her face faded and she suddenly looked like a weary child. "I suppose it's become second nature. It's not that I mean to... " She stopped and then continued haltingly, "I'm afraid. He frightens me."

  "Lion? You certainly didn't act frightened when you persuaded him to provide a handsome dowry for your little friends. On the contrary, you were exceptionally bold."

  "Only because it was something I had to do." She moistened her lips. "He makes me feel... " She paused, searching for words. "I feel like I do in that last minute before I steal a fat purse. Scared and trembling but excited too."

  "Hmmm. Interesting."

  "Help me." Her hand clutching the wool shawl at her breast tightened. "I didn't feel helpless with Giovanni, but I do with Lord Andreas."

  "Why should I help you? Lion is my friend and you're nothing to me." He spoke with complete detachment.

  Sanchia's hopes plummeted. "I can't think of any reason why you should help me." She paused, considering. "Unless it's because you'd find it more amusing to make things a little easier for me. A scared mouse scurrying around Lord Andreas wouldn't be nearly as entertaining for you."

  He suddenly chuckled. "You are anything but a scared mouse." He paused. "Lion's fair. Serve him well and he'll not misuse you."

  Sanchia felt a surge of relief as she thought she recognized the slightest break in the wall that Lorenzo Vasaro used to distance himself from everyone around him. "He has the manner of a great lord. Is he very rich?"

  He was silent a moment, and she began to think he wasn't going to answer. "He's lord of the city-state of Mandara. He has great wealth but only the one fief. His father was a condottiere and raised Lion to follow after him. Lorenzo de' Medici gave Lion's father Mandara in payment for waging war against one of his less friendly neighbors."

  "Where is Mandara?"

  "To the south. Between Florence and Pisa."

  "And now Lord Andreas is the lord of the city?"

  Vasaro nodded. "Since his father died some thirteen years ago. Lion continued as condottiere and maintained his father's armies until he decided to disband them two years ago and return to Mandara." Vasaro gazed at her inquiringly. "Well, have you gouged enough from me to abate your fears?"

  "No." She sighed. "I suppose you wouldn't reconsider and tell me why Lord Andreas bought me?"

  Vasaro didn't answer.

  "I didn't think so."

  "Then you shouldn't have wasted--" he broke off and stopped short. "Santa Maria, what is that?"

  They were crossing the Mercato Nuovo where bankers with ledgers and fat purses sat at their green-covered tables. However, it was not the bankers at whom Vasaro was staring but a plump man surrounded by a crowd of snickering onlookers. "Am I mistaken or is that obese personage peeling down his hose?"

  "Oh, that's only a bankrupt," Sanchia said indifferently. "In order to be discharged he has to strike his naked buttocks three times on that black-and-white marble circle that marks the site of the symbolic Chariot of Florence."

  "How undignified." Vasaro's lips suddenly began to twitch with amusement as he resumed walking across the mercato. "Lion was worried that you might beggar him. I must warn him if he does becomes bankrupt, it most certainly must not happen in this illustrious city."

  "I did not ask for so much. It was necessary to--"

  "Peace." Lorenzo held up his hand. "I'm not interested in your protests and explanations. Let me have a little blessed silence for a time."

  They walked in silence for a short while until Lorenzo finally said, "Giulia's house is around the next corner." He cast a glance at her. "I wonder if she'll let you through her front door. I found Madonna Giulia very particular about all the appointments of her establishment."

  She frowned. "I won't steal anything."

  "Your larcenous nature wasn't what I was referring to." He wrinkled his nose. "You have a great and profound need for a bath."

  "I'm clean. I bathed only this morning. It's the--" She stopped as they turned the corner, her eyes widening in pleasure as she caught sight of the impressive two-story house. "What a truly splendid casa. It looks as grand as a palazzo. You wouldn't think a whore could do this well for herself, would you? It seems strange that men would be foolish enough to pay so much to fornicate with a woman when the pleasure lasts for such a short time."

  His lips twitched. "It doesn't seem strange to me. But then I, too, am one of those foolish men."

  She turned and looked at him speculatively. His manner was so icy, so remote it was difficult for her to imagine him rutting with one of the strumpets in this splendid house. "Do you really fornic--"

  "I think you've asked quite enough questions for the moment," he interrupted as he took her elbow and nudged her toward the elaborately carved door of the front entrance. He didn't look at Sanchia as he opened the door and murmured, "And yes, on occasion, I most certainly do."

  "If you want your little slave girl to be permitted to spend the night here, I think you'd better come along and intercede with Giulia." Lorenzo stood leaning on the jamb of the doorway of Lion's chamber. He covered a delicate yawn with his long, slender hand. "I settled Sanchia's flock in their new nests but I refuse to involve myself between two quarreling women."

  "Where is she?" Lion stood up and moved quickly toward the door. The glimmer of malicious mischief underlying Lorenzo's pretense of boredom always boded trouble. Cristo, what was wrong now? Nothing had gone as he had planned since he had caught sight of Sanchia on the piazza this afternoon.

  "In Giulia's chamber." Lorenzo followed him down the hall. "We'd no sooner crossed the threshold than Giulia appeared in the hall and took offense at your little Sanchia's... " He paused before continuing euphemistically, "unusual fragrance. She insisted on calling her servants and dragging the child up to her chamber for a bath."

  "Which Sanchia clearly needs."

  "But which Sanchia clearly doesn't want. When I last saw her she was being forcibly restrained by two of Giulia's maidservants while Giulia herself was undressing her." Lorenzo opened the door of Giulia's chamber. "Ah, I see they have her in the tub. What wonderful progress."

  "Why won't you listen to me, you stupid woman? I don't need a bath." It was Sanchia's voice, the tone almost as fierce as when she had spoken to Giovanni.

  Lion strode into the chamber and then stopped short. "My God, what's happened here?"

  Clothing was tossed all over the chamber as if blown by a gale wind, Giulia Marzo's golden hair was hanging loose about her shoulders, the rope of pearls usually binding it had broken and pearls were scattered over the floor. The bodice of her sea blue gown bore a three-cornered rip and torrents of water were splashed on the floor, on Giulia, and on the two servants holding the struggling Sanchia in the hip bath while Giulia attempted to scrub her.

  Sanchia's gaze flew to Lion and she suddenly stopped fighting. "They wouldn't listen to me. I tried to tell them that it wouldn't do any good."

  "She stinks," Giulia said between her teeth. "Lorenzo tells me this she-devil belongs to you, but I won't have her in my house until I've purged her of this vile odor." Giulia dipped a cloth into the water and then scrubbed vigorously at Sanchia's neck.

  "You're hurting me." Sanchia's amber eyes blazed up at Giulia. "And it will do no good. I'm clean!"

  She certainly appeared clean, Lion noticed bemusedly. The golden skin on Sanchia's shoulders gleamed above the cloudy water, and she wasn't nearly as thin as he had believed when she had worn that loose gown.

  "Tell her to listen to--" Sanchia broke off as she met Lion's gaze. Her eyes widened, and she stared at him as if mesmerized while a delicate pink tinted the gold of her cheeks. Then she swallowed and drew a shaky breath. "Please, my lord, tell her to stop."

  Lion gazed at her without speaking.

  "Please, my lord." Sanchia's amber eyes were enormous in her triangular face.<
br />
  "I do like a woman who says please."

  There was an intensity in his soft voice that caused Giulia to look at him sharply over her shoulder. "Lion, don't interfere. This is necessary."

  "Her body looks clean enough to me." He dropped down on the cushioned chair a few yards away from the tub and stretched his legs out before him. His intent gaze returned to Sanchia's pink-tipped breasts which could be glimpsed just below the surface of the water. The god Eros couldn't have created nipples more arousingly pointed and amazingly sensual. "There's no use scraping and reddening that exquisite skin if there's no need, Giulia."

  "But the stench is--"

  "It's my hair," Sanchia broke in with exasperation. "If you'd listened to me, I would have told you. Every morning after my bath I rub a mixture into it. It's my hair that stinks and needs cleansing."

  Giulia sat back on her heels and gazed blankly at Sanchia. "You rub something this foul-smelling into your hair?"

  Sanchia nodded. "Since I was twelve. Garlic, fish oil, and--"

  Giulia quickly held up her hand. "Don't go on. I don't want to know."

  "I do," Lorenzo said from the doorway. "Fascinating."

  Lion's gaze narrowed on her face. "I'm not as interested in the mixture itself as in her reason for concocting it."

  "Giovanni has a very keen sense of smell," Sanchia said simply. "When my mother was alive, every morning he would make her bathe and perfume herself. Then he'd have her kneel naked on the floor of the shop and take her as a dog takes a bitch in the street. After my mother died I knew that soon I'd be old enough for Giovanni to try to use me in the same way."

  Lorenzo chuckled. "You chose an exceptionally powerful deterrent."

  Lion didn't feel the same amusement. He found he was experiencing a multitude of wild emotions that took him completely off guard. Anger and pity battled with an odd sense of guilt at the mental image that persisted in coming before his eyes. The image of Sanchia kneeling naked on the floor, looking back over her shoulder with those huge amber eyes, her pink tongue moistening her lips with nervousness.