Chiara – Revenge and Triumph

by Gian Bordin

  "Il padrone was so mad when we found her in the gully that he hit her and she ran off. He wants you dead. He swore that this time you will not get away."

  She shrugged her shoulders. "If I don’t return by tonight, Count d’Appiano will send out search parties, and Niccolo will give up."

  "Unless he joins them in the hope of finding you first."

  "Yes, I hadn’t thought of that. It might be prudent to wait out the night here. Will you stay with me? I would like that." She desperately wanted him to stay, every moment with him being a precious gift, before he would leave, and she would never see him again.

  "I will stay with you, Chiara."

  She gave him a grateful smile, while her heart raced away.

  "I will fetch dry wood, so that we can have a small fire going at the back of the cave. A clear sky means cold night."

  "I will join you." Anything to be with him, while at the same time wondering how he would light a fire without a starter kit.

  Within a few minutes they collected enough dry fallen branches to last the night. Selvo found several shriveled bunches of old man’s beard. Back in the cave, he made a small indentation on a sizeable dry piece of soft wood and placed it on the ground. Next, he sharpened a thin stick to a point and then began twirling it between his open palms while pressing its point into the indentation. She immediately understood what he was doing. After a minute or so, she placed her palms just above his and took over. He smiled. It felt intoxicating to sense the warmth of his face so close to hers and inhale the musky smell of his skin. They alternated several times. The indentation turned black and a thin wisp of smoke came from it. He gave it a final spirt and then gently blew on it. A faint glow appeared and grew, setting the dry pieces of tinder he held to it aflame.

  "You did it, you did it," exclaimed Chiara.

  "We did it … together," he replied, giving her another smile that went straight to her heart.

  Feeding more of the bunches to it and adding thin sticks, he quickly had a small fire going.

  She was still kneeling next to him, warming her hands over the flames, acutely aware of his closeness. Something she could not explain compelled her to turn toward him, search his eyes. He took her head between his palms and his face came slowly closer, the reflections of the fire dancing in his pupils. She closed her eyes, feeling the soft touch of his lips burn on hers, rising up to him, pulled closer. His lips enfolded hers, parting hers, the tongue reaching inside her mouth. She hardly dared to breathe, lest it might break the spell.

  They broke apart. She opened her eyes, feeling vulnerable as she had never felt in her whole life. He continued holding her face between his palms and chuckled softly: "I think this fearless girl has never been kissed."

  He kissed her again. Her whole body yearned to be held by him. Unknown responses awoke deep inside her. She folded her arms around his neck, grabbing his hair, pressing herself against him. After a while she hid her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his musky smell, her heart pounding madly.

  He stroked her hair. "It is true, isn’t it?"

  "Yes, I’ve waited more than three years for you." It slipped out before she knew.

  He pulled away, searching her eyes. "What did you say?"

  "Nothing," she whispered, putting her head back on his shoulder. "Just hold me, please."

  She felt the pressure increase and did not want to let go ever. He stirred and whispered: "The fire will die unless I put more wood on."

  She let go and sat back on her haunches, almost feeling bereft, while she watched him.

  For months to come she would in private moments time and again relive what happened then and it would fill her with fire and longing. She opened up to him like a flower touched by the warmth of the sun, every petal stretching and peeling back to capture its rays, reaching up to it, every bit of skin craving for its caress, the fire inside her pulsating to unite with his, to become one with him.

  Later, as she lay spent and blissfully satiated at his side, his arm folded around her, she marveled at the mystery of her body. She watched the flickering flames of the fire. A stick bent and rose as the flames consumed it. Had she not eagerly bent and risen to be consumed by his ardor like the stick, abandoning all control, willing to go where her body, where her senses, where her feelings would take her, a wondrous journey of discovery, without ever questioning it?

  She was sensually aware of every bit of her skin touching his. She wanted to turn around and explore his body, but at the same time not wanting to let go of that sense of being fused to him. She wrapped her skirt which served as their cover, tighter around them. She wanted to stay awake and taste every moment.

  At one point, she must have fallen asleep. When she woke, bright sunshine at the entrance of the cave made her blink. It took her a moment to realize where she was. Then she searched the space next to her. It was empty. She sat up in panic, looking for him, his clothes, the swords. They were gone, except for his slave tunic that they had used as ground cover. Only her own garments were strewn against the wall of the cave.

  "Selvo," she called out softly.

  No answer. She got up, wrapped her skirt around her naked body, and went to the entrance of the cave. Nobody. She called again. No answer. He was gone. Gone! Emptiness filled her. Tears distorted her vision. And then Chiara, the woman in control, took over. It’s better this way. It was not to be! He has been mine for one night. She tightened the muscles of her jaws. Right now, she had to think of getting safely back to Piombino.

  She went to the side of the cave and relieved herself. The gurgling water enticed her to wash away the sweat and smells of lovemaking. Yes, and wash away the yet undefinable feeling of loss too.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, she scrambled down to the gully and then made her way along the valley, always skirting inside the trees. She kept in a southeasterly direction until she reached the spot where she had entered the forest the day before. She checked the road in both directions. No soul in sight. But to be on the safe side, rather than walk in the open, she remained again inside the forest.

  She had covered about half a league when she saw a sizeable group of horsemen canter on the road toward her. She hid behind the trunk of a tree. As they came closer, she recognized the colors of the House of Piombino on the flag carried by one of them. She quickly put her skirt back on and stepped out of the forest, waving. Two riders detached themselves from the group. As they rode up, she saw that one of them was Count d’Appiano.

  "Lady Chiara, we found you. What happened? Your horse was discovered alone this morning in front of the gate. Are you all right? And where is Mercurio?"

  "My Lord, the answers to the first and last questions are long, while the one to the second is short. Yes, I am perfectly fine, except for a grumbling stomach."

  "I see you have not lost your humor. But where is Mercurio? And why are you alone?"

  "Mercurio is in the infirmary at Populónia, nursing a broken leg after an unfortunate encounter with a boar, but the monks promised to serve him some of its juicy parts for his meals." The count smiled. "And I must lodge a complaint to the Lord of Piombino that his roads are not safe."

  He frowned. "Lady Chiara, no more stories. What happened?"

  She suddenly noticed her own sarcastic mood, as if this would help drown out her sense of loss. "My Lord, please forgive my gallows humor. When I rode back to Piombino yesterday afternoon —"

  "— alone?"

  "Yes, alone, I had an unpleasant encounter with Signor Sanguanero and six of his men, I presume sailors from his ship." She gave a brief summary of what happened without ever mentioning Selvo, simply saying that after having shot one of Niccolo’s men, he and the other two fled, while she spent the night hidden in a cave.

  "Lady Chiara, I promise that I will investigate this matter in person. He and his men will be punished."

  I doubt that he’s still in Piombino, but she did not voice that.

  The count then ordered thre
e of his men to accompany him to Populónia, while the captain and the rest were to take her back to Piombino.

  "Rinaldo, offer Lady Chiara your horse," the count shouted as he took off.

  The young man promptly jumped off and brought his horse to her.

  "Rinaldo, you look like a nice young man. If you don’t mind, I would rather sit behind you on your horse, if you permit me to hold on to you." There, I’m back to hiding my mood with jokes.

  Several of the horsemen whistled and there were calls of ‘Lucky fellow’.

  One called: "Rinaldo, I’ll change places."

  "You mean, you sit behind him, and I take your horse?" interjected Chiara.

  It was greeted with big laughter. "There Baldaggio, for your smart mouth," shouted someone.

  Rinaldo, still crimson, said: "Lady Chiara, I would be happy to walk."

  "I believe you, but let’s do it my way. We will be back in Piombino faster." She turned to the interjector. "Ser Baldaggio, would you gallop ahead and bring Lady Maria the good news. I’m sure she will be very appreciative, if this is all right with you, Captain."

  "Baldaggio, you heard Lady Chiara."

  "Yes, Captain."

  He was out of sight within minutes.

  * * *

  "You had us worried, Chiara," the countess called out, as they rode into the court, while Beatrice ran to meet her.

  "Lady Chiara, I am so glad that you are back. I have been waiting here ever since Baldaggio brought the good news that you had been found."

  Chiara jumped off the horse and hugged the girl. "I am also glad to be back, my sweet girl."

  "I hardly closed an eye last night," exclaimed the countess, "and poor Beatrice was in tears all evening when you did not return. And then your horse was found outside the gate."

  "My Lady, I apologize for having caused you such worries."

  "What happened? Baldaggio knew little more than that Mercurio got bored by a wild boar."

  "Mercurio is fine. He only broke his left lower leg when he was thrown from his horse, and he is well looked after by the monks of Populónia."

  "Come inside, you do not look well and tell me what happened."

  Chiara followed her, holding Beatrice’s left hand. They settled into Lady Maria’s ground parlor, where Chiara gave them a detailed report, keeping again silent about Selvo.

  "Ah, Niccolo Sanguanero, he really has turned out to be a scoundrel."

  He was never anything else.

  She continued: "I now understand why the Santa Caterina set sail at first light this morning. He knows that my Lord will punish him severely. How right you were to refuse to marry him!"

  She scrutinized Chiara for several seconds. "Chiara, something is different about you."

  Certainly, something is different about me. Is it that visible? She felt the heat rising in her cheeks, grateful for the subdued light. I’m not an innocent girl any longer, but a woman. Haven’t I tasted the pleasures of the flesh? she added silently, the sense of hurt turning her sarcastic against herself.

  "Has anything happened to you that you did not tell me?"

  "My Lady, it does not surprise me that I look different. I had a brush with danger, if not death, twice in the same day and then spent a freezing night hiding in a cave… And besides, I am starving," she added, trying to give it a more lighthearted note.

  "Oh, and I am so thoughtless. Only wanting to satisfy my curiosity. Beatrice, run down to the kitchen and order a healthy breakfast for poor Chiara. Quick, be off! And after that, dear Chiara, you will relax in a hot bath that I will have prepared for you."

  Two hours later, clean, scented, changed, Chiara was resting in one of two soft chairs in the same parlor, while the countess gave Beatrice a Latin lesson. Her thoughts, though, were far away, back in the cave. She could almost physically feel his hands, rough, yet so gentle, caressing her shoulders, her breasts, her flat stomach, her inner thighs, experiencing her responses to it, see the sparkling reflections of the fire in his eyes, yearn for his soft lips to find hers.

  "Chiara." Yes, it sounded like a chord when he said it.

  "Chiara, I am speaking to you," she heard the countess’s stern tone.

  "I am sorry, my Lady."

  "I would like you to read this passage to Beatrice. I know of nobody who enunciates Latin as beautifully as you. Here, Beatrice, bring Lady Chiara the book and listen carefully."

  After a fleeting regret, Chiara was glad to be brought back to the real world.

  * * *

  Lord d’Appiano returned from Populónia early afternoon.

  His face was stern when he entered the room and addressed her. "Lady Chiara, why did you not tell me that you almost certainly put your own life at risk in order to save Mercurio from being torn to pieces by that boar?"

  "My apologies, my Lord. It did not seem that dramatic, nor that important to me. And besides, Mercurio would have done the same for me. I am sure he must have exaggerated."

  "As he always does when he tells tales about Chiara," added the countess, chuckling.

  "My Lady, I am not joking. This is the largest boar I have ever seen, so large that it would put the fear into most men. And Mercurio told me that you were no more than ten paces from it when you shot that monster and it then charged you instead of him."

  "Oh, Chiara, why are you always so reckless." She rushed over and embraced her. "And I am again so thoughtless, chiding you when you have gone through such dangers."

  How she yearned to be held by motherly Alda right then, rather than the stiff body of the countess. "Thank you, Lady Maria, for your concern. There was really no time to be reckless. It all happened too fast."

  "I have no doubt that you saved his life," the count continued, "and if your aim had not been so perfect, you both might be dead. I do not know whether I should chide you for the complete disregard for your own safety or thank you for saving my valued retainer."

  She lowered her gaze and murmured: "You could do both or neither, my Lord." Then she raised her face and met his eyes.

  For a moment, he looked thrown and then smiled. "I will thank you, Lady Chiara."

  "As I already said, Messer Mercurio would have done the same for me."

  The countess turned to her husband. "My Lord, I am sure that you will be very cross to hear that Niccolo Sanguanero has sailed out of Piombino at dawn this morning, no doubt in the clear intention to escape your prompt and just punishment."

  "Yes, Captain Fiorini informed me of that at the gate. Lady Chiara, I regret that his punishment will have to wait until he is apprehended."

  "My Lord, it does not matter. Unless his men are also caught and confess, it will again be a question of his word against mine. And unfortunately, in addition to the man I killed, I would only be able to recognize one other."

  "Where is the dead man?"

  "I left him where he fell, on the slope of the hillock north of the gully." A fright shook her. Her mind had already formed the words ‘We threw him…’ and she barely stopped herself at the last moment.

  "I will send men to recover him, and once we catch up with Niccolo Sanguanero and the others, we will make them talk, I assure you, Lady Chiara."

  "Torture? … A confession under torture does not proof guilt, but only the fear of pain, my Lord. You might as well put me under torture and I will admit that my accusations are all made up. If pressed hard enough, I might even admit that I spent the night in a cave with the devil."

  "Chiara, how dare you?" cried the countess, while the count’s eyes were blazing under knitted brows.

  Chiara lowered her head. "My Lord, I apologize for my insolence," and then she raised her face, adding: "I beg for the punishment I deserve."

  She did not waver under his stern gaze.

  "No, Lady Chiara, I will not rise to your challenge."

  He turned on his heels and left the room.

  "What has got into you, Chiara, to make my Lord so cross?" reproached the countess. "You have changed. I don’t rec
ognize you anymore."

  "Please, my Lady, I apologize humbly. I am sorry to have earned his Lordship’s displeasure."

  "Maybe these last few days have taken more out of you than you admit. I order you to go to your room and rest."

  "Thank you, my Lady, I will go immediately."

  She curtsied to leave when the countess’ soft chuckle made her look up.

  "I must admit you really shook my Lord as I have never seen him. He will think hard and long about what you said and come to the conclusion that there is much truth to it. Go now, Chiara, you deserve a rest."

  But rather than go directly to her room, Chiara went down to the stables to check on her mare, who greeted her with an eager nicker.

  * * *

  Time dragged on over the next three days. With the judges still in residence, she was banished from the court meals, the same as Barbarigo. But she did not mind and enjoyed the conversation with the scholar.

  As the countess predicted, Lord d’Appiano’s anger only lasted a day and his conduct returned to his previous benevolent tolerance and curiosity of her differentness. He never again referred to what he had termed her challenge, and in retrospect she could not but agree that it had been a challenge.

  She spent some time each day on Latin lessons with Beatrice, who loved the method she had used to teach Veronica and Jacomo. The girl laughed and clapped her hand joyously when they came up with a clever verse and without noticing learned new Latin sentences and vocabulary.

  At other times, she read or pretended to read, her thought often dwelling on Selvo. She wondered where he was, how he was faring. The money she had given him should last for at least six months and more. She loved him. There was no more that vague emotion, that ambiguity of not knowing what loving a man with every cell of her body meant. No, now she craved for his touch — the hopelessness of that love, of that need for him, a raw wound of despair. She would never see him again. But her effort to hide that inner turmoil paid off. The countess did not remark on her behavior any further, except praising her for how she taught Latin to Beatrice.