Fruit of the Golden Vine

by Sophia French

  “I think I’m no longer sure who is chaperoning who.” Rafael fixed Adelina with an unwavering stare, and Adelina sucked nervously on her lower lip. He didn’t approve—of that much she was sure.

  “To your feet, Adelina.” Silvana extended her hand, and Adelina let herself be pulled upwards. Without releasing her grip, Silvana lowered her gaze to Adelina’s outfit. “These clothes suit you very well.” She loosened her fingers, and their hands slipped apart.

  “You think so?” Adelina puffed up her chest. “I certainly feel more alive when I’m dressed up for adventure.”

  “Do you like to climb trees?”

  “If the branches are big enough.”

  “I wish you could see the forests I grew up playing in. The trees are like ladders, and you can climb to the very canopy. The frightening part is getting back down.”

  “I’m too bulky to climb them,” said Rafael. “But with this strength of mine, I can lift a horse above my head.”

  “You can’t.” Adelina laughed as her fear of Rafael eased. He was Silvana’s brother, after all. No doubt the two enjoyed the same loyalty and understanding that Adelina shared with Irena, despite all their arguments and differences. “Prove it.”

  “I refuse on compassionate grounds. It’s too frightening for the horse.”

  “Listen to your boasts,” said Silvana. “You can barely lift little Felise without grimacing.”

  “Look at her now, the troublemaker,” said Adelina. Felise was patting a coach horse on the snout while Father gestured at her to move away. “She’s not supposed to go near the horses, but she can’t help herself. She adores animals.”

  “Speaking of your sisters.” Silvana gestured to the front door. Irena stood on the top step, hidden beneath an enormous floral hat. “Your love has arrived, Rafael.”

  “I’ll go bid her good morning.” Rafael hurried across the lawn. Even from a distance, Irena’s cry of delight was audible.

  “It’s odd,” said Adelina, watching the courting couple link hands. “I used to think she was grotesque for wanting so much to be a mother. Now I see that I was only being cruel. If that’s her true desire, who am I to make light of it? It’s not such an ignoble thing.”

  Silvana gave Adelina a contemplative look. “Do you have any desire for children?”

  “Not me. What about you?”

  “Not especially. I certainly couldn’t imagine bearing one. Conception, delivery…”

  Adelina shuddered. “Oh, yes. Awful. And then you get a screaming little bundle that torments you night and day.” She touched Silvana’s wrist. “But we couldn’t have a child even if we wanted to.”

  “Well, there are many orphans in the world.” Silvana shrugged. “I’ve never understood the urgency to create a new child when so many are abandoned and starving in alleys.”

  “I like that I have my parents’ blood. When they scold me for misbehaving, I get to point out that I inherited my nature from them.” Adelina considered Silvana’s lowered profile. Her dark eyes were soft, even gentle, as if taken over by some melancholy emotion. “Don’t worry, Silvana. I understand the price of our love. After a lifetime by your side, I know I’d still regret nothing.”

  Silvana sighed as long and deeply as if the air were issuing from her soul. She closed her eyes, and they stood together in silence, their fingers touching but not entwined.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Orfeo’s manor was taller but narrower than Sebastian’s, three floors high rather than two. A well-swept flagstone path ran from the main road through a neat garden and to an impressive wooden front door flanked by apple trees. The sight of it left Silvana somehow uneasy.

  “From the time I’ve spent with this man, I don’t like him,” Rafael said.

  “I’m sure he’ll do whatever Sebastian tells him.”

  Irena approached, adjusting her lace choker. “I wonder what you’re both whispering about. Are you excited to go riding with us, Mistress Silvana?”

  “Naturally. It’s been a while since I’ve been on horseback.”

  “Neither Ada nor I are very good riders, but Orfeo’s horses are gentle. Do you ride well?”

  Silvana frowned. Ordinarily, Rafael consumed the entirety of Irena’s attention. “Everything that I do, I do well, Mistress Irena.”

  “Call me Ira, please.” Irena peeked at Silvana’s hand. Had she spotted the matching rings? “I really do hope we grow close, you and I. That would please me a great deal.”

  “I’m sure we’ll become fast friends.”

  The front door opened, and Orfeo strode into the garden, his red hair flaming in the sun. “My guests! My cherished guests!” He lumbered to Sebastian and slapped him on the back. “Bastian, you old cad. You’ve brought an entire town with you.”

  Sebastian clasped Orfeo’s forearm. “My daughters and guests would like to ride your horses through the meadows. What say you?”

  “Anytime, anytime. You know that. And you’ve brought the little one, I see. Surely she’s not riding?”

  “No, Lise is here to see your whelps. They are still around, aren’t they?”

  “Oh, yes. Just the right age for a little girl to play with too. Frisky and fun, but not so big as they’ll knock her over.” Orfeo squatted, his hands on his knees, and grinned at Felise. She hid behind Adelina, and Orfeo chuckled. “Ah, she’s afraid of me. I suppose it’s my stature.”

  “No, it’s your face,” said Adelina.

  Orfeo stood, sniggering, and gave Adelina an indulgent smile. “This middle daughter of yours, Bastian. I swear she’ll take over your business someday, laws be damned. She’s got your flint.” He swept his arms in an encompassing welcome. “I don’t have time to greet you all, so why don’t you all just come in? Come along, come along!”

  The guests trooped into Orfeo’s manor. The lobby was immense, and equal parts dining room and drawing room. A large stone fireplace took up one wall, and tables and benches ran along the room’s length. Orfeo caught Silvana’s eye and winked. “An innkeeper has a predilection for open spaces and numerous tables,” he said. “I like to refer to this as my great hall. In the winter, with the fire going, my friends and I carouse here for hours.”

  Silvana didn’t return Orfeo’s ingratiating smile. His unattractive appearance only made it harder to warm to him. He seemed to be in his late thirties, and though he was muscular, he already had the tell-tale signs of a life of overconsumption—broken veins in his cheeks and eyes, a paunch developing beneath his loose tunic.

  “I might add, it’s an honor.” Orfeo grasped Rafael’s hands and shook them. “A baron in my own home! You and your lady sister are very welcome. In fact, I’ll pour you both some cider. Bastian, why don’t you take the little one out to the stables to see the pups? They’re in one of the stalls. She can take one and romp with it outside, if she likes. They’re too young to toddle far.”

  Sebastian twirled the end of his mustache. “Very well, why not? Lise, shall we go see the puppies?”

  “Yes,” said Felise. Silvana couldn’t help but smile. The child obviously wanted to appear nonchalant, but the light in her eyes betrayed her excitement. “I’d like to play with one outside, like you said.”

  “As for the two elder beauties.” Orfeo’s eyes took on an unpleasant luster. “Why don’t you visit the pups as well and say hello to the horses you’re to ride?”

  “That sounds fun.” Irena put an arm around Adelina. “Shall we go argue over who gets the beautiful black one, Ada?”

  Adelina laughed. “I might even give her to you without a fight.”

  “I won’t stand for it. It’s a breach of tradition.”

  “Well, come along,” said Sebastian. He took Felise’s hand, and the family left by the front entrance, with Felise chattering the entire way.

  After the door had closed, Orfeo moved to an immense cask and filled three mugs. “I don’t have many servants. I’m a practical man.” He placed the mugs on a tray and carried it to one of the tables. “C
ome, sit. Drink with me. It’s not every day I entertain nobility.”

  Rafael and Silvana squeezed onto a splintered wooden bench. Orfeo sat opposite, and the bench groaned beneath him. “Here’s to the courting baron,” he said and raised his mug. Rafael and Silvana followed the toast without comment, and Silvana touched the cider to her lips. Clear and sweet, with a bitter aftertaste to keep her interest.

  “You like the cider?” Orfeo asked. “I make it myself.”

  “It’s very good,” said Rafael. “But if you take out a set of dice, I’m leaving.”

  Orfeo bellowed laughter. “Yes, you lost horrendously that night! I’ve never seen a man roll so poorly.” His chuckles subsided. “Ah, well. You’ll win it back.” He tossed back his mug and drained the cider in a single swallow. “So! Tell me! How’s the game of love going, Baron?”

  “I’d hazard that I’m doing well.”

  “I’ve been a friend of that family for a decade. I know how they work.” Orfeo tapped his temple. “Irena’s quite a trophy. The moment she turned twenty-five, half the men in town jumped for a chance to have her. But none of them could bring to the table anything Bastian hasn’t already got. Wealth? He’s got it. Land? He’s got it. Influence? Oh, you’d better believe he’s got it.”

  “We gather he’s quite the prominent figure in town,” Silvana said.

  “Oh, yes.” Orfeo winked. “But he doesn’t have a title. No noble blood in those veins—just wine. That’s what you’ve got going for you, Rafael, and I daresay you’ll take the prize. But what then, eh? Back to the manor to live a respectable life? You strike me as a rather more liberated sort.”

  “I’ll admit I’ve only recently considered married life.” Rafael gave a crooked grin. “But everyone must settle eventually.”

  “I agree, I agree. Look at me. A single man, and forty is on my horizon. If I’m to have a son, I’d better get me a wife soon.” Orfeo winked at Silvana. “Perhaps I could court you, my noble lady.”

  Silvana glared. “You’d have more luck courting your horse.”

  “Yes, you’re an uncommon woman. A sword at your belt, I see. Are you any good with it? I fancy myself quite a duelist.” Orfeo pointed to a series of bracketed swords on the wall above their heads. “See up there? Just part of my collection.”

  “Collecting swords doesn’t a duelist make, Master Orfeo.”

  Orfeo flashed his uneven teeth. “Trust me, my lady, I can wield them as well as display them. I’m undefeated. Well, if we exclude my learning period. May I look at your weapon?”

  Silvana stood and took her sword from its scabbard. It hissed as it drew through the leather. She placed it on the table before Orfeo, who leaned forward, his face bright as he inspected the weapon. “A beautiful small sword. You favor them over the old design?”

  “Who wouldn’t? They’re lighter.”

  “Yes, but shorter.” He tapped the sword’s swept guard. “And the hilt is smaller too.”

  “It’s swiftness and accuracy that matters in a duel. Only a man would place any value on length and size.”

  Rafael snorted laughter, and Orfeo pulled a mournful face. “I fear you would cut me down with your tongue before you’ve even drawn,” he said. “Rafael, how’s your swordplay?”

  “Poor,” said Rafael. He tasted his cider and grimaced. Not sweet enough for him, most likely. “Silvie’s far quicker than me, and her nerves—God, she’s unshakeable. I’ve never outfenced her, not even when we were children playing with sticks.”

  “Well, well.” Orfeo gave Silvana a repellant look of appreciation. “You’re a striking character. Good looks, fine dress, sharp wit, skilled blade. No wonder you’re unmarried. There’s not a man alive who’d know how to handle you.”

  Silvana raised an eyebrow. “There’s not a man alive I’d want to handle me.” She resheathed her sword. “Is it really so astonishing to you that a woman can defend herself?”

  “Well, if she works to imitate a man long enough, I suppose she might become capable.”

  “Imitate a man? That’s what you believe I’m doing?”

  Orfeo shrugged. “I mean no offence. I only thought it apparent. Your hair, your male manner of dress, your knowledge of swordplay…”

  Silvana seethed, but she kept her voice calm. “My hair is cut short for practical reasons. It’s still grown from a woman’s scalp. I don’t burden myself with dresses, but my clothes are still tailored for a woman, and they conceal a woman’s body. As for swordplay, our violent world makes no exception based on sex. A woman has as much duty to defend herself and her loved ones. No, I don’t imitate men. I embody a form of womanhood that cowards are afraid of.”

  “Please.” Rafael extended his hands. “Orfeo, you’re going to get my sister unhappy with this line of talk, and trust me when I say you don’t want to do that.”

  “Indeed I don’t.” Orfeo swept the mugs aside and stood. “It would be a curious exercise to duel with you someday, Mistress. I’d have to overcome my compunction about striking a woman, of course.”

  Silvana placed a hand on her hip. “I wouldn’t lose sleep over that. There’s no chance of you so much as scratching me.”

  “Oh, you are bold. Well, let’s go see how the others are doing. I’m sure you’re anxious for a bracing ride.”

  They followed Orfeo out the front door and down a narrow path. It led to a large stable overlooking a stretch of rolling meadow fringed by woodland. As they approached the stable, which slouched as if one wall had been constructed lower than the other, the sound of barking and childish laughter greeted them. Sebastian was standing by the stable door, watching Felise as she wrestled in the grass with a fat white puppy. The creature barked and licked her face, and she pinned it to the ground and laughed as it wriggled. After several seconds of struggle, Felise set the puppy free and it took off across the grass. She flew in pursuit, calling and giggling.

  “How old is she again?” said Orfeo as they neared the stable entrance. “Ten?”

  “Thirteen, barely,” said Sebastian. “But she behaves younger and has an odd manner of speech. Delfina often complains that Irena is her only normal daughter.” He watched Felise and the puppy as they crawled through a tangle of bushes. “I’ve no complaints. Lise and Ada both liven things up to no end with their antics.”

  “But antics have their limits, eh?” Orfeo peered into the stable. “How are you back there, girls? Feeding the horses, I see.”

  The stable was a narrow, straw-strewn space lit by beams of sunlight cast through slatted walls. At the stable’s far end, Adelina and Irena were grooming and feeding a pair of stalled horses, one coal black and the other piebald. Several gloomy equine heads twisted and snuffled over the neighboring stall doors.

  “I’m taking the black one.” Irena stroked the horse’s twitching nose. “Ada conceded.”

  Adelina walked across the stable, kicking straw, and came to a stop in front of Silvana. “Are you ready to go riding?”

  “Very much so,” said Silvana. “With Master Orfeo’s permission.”

  “Of course, of course.” Orfeo indicated two brown horses stabled side by side. “You can take these. They’re not as lovely as the horses the girls are so enamored with, but they’re still finer steeds than you’ll find anywhere else.” He removed a large saddle from the wall. “I suppose you can ride a horse as well as any man too.”

  “It may surprise you to learn that men and women are formed rather alike. Two arms, two legs. Everything necessary for riding.”

  Adelina laughed. “While you two quarrel, I’m going to play with Felise.” She passed by Silvana, and their fingers brushed for a deliberate moment. Silvana turned and continued to watch Adelina as she strolled into the sunlight. There was plenty to admire about the suggestive fit of Adelina’s short pants. As much as Silvana enjoyed unbuttoning dresses, nothing quite ignited the blood like the sight of a woman in trousers—it bespoke boldness, a revelation of curved hips and turned calves. Far from making a woman appear m
asculine, trousers revealed her physical femininity, unlike those artifices constructed from lace and whalebone to conceal her figure from view. And men had the gall to deem this effect feminine.

  “You appear distant in thought,” said Orfeo, and Silvana returned herself to the moment. “I’d wager you’re fond of the maiden Adelina. You’re quite alike, save that your temper is like forged steel, and hers is like a reckless flame.”

  “And you’ve witnessed her temper often, have you?”

  “I’ve been around the family ten years, as I’ve said,” Orfeo leered. “I’ve seen the daughters grow up, their good times and bad. Adelina was ever the demon. How her mother despaired of her! At the age of that little one out there acting a fool with the puppy, she was already strutting about making demands and asking questions.” He glanced at Silvana’s hand, and she curled her fingers, hiding the ring. “Not like Irena. A dainty little creature.”

  “Did you just call me a little creature?” said Irena. “Really, Orfeo. To talk about others when they’re in earshot.”

  “I meant as a child, Irena. Now you’re a dainty woman. Surely you’ve no complaints about that appellation.” Orfeo turned the saddle in his hands. “Well, no more time for chatter. I’ll get the horses fixed up for you. I suppose you’ll be riding sidesaddle, Irena, in that big dress of yours.”

  “I’m hardly going to wear trousers and ride like a man. I leave that sort of thing to Adelina.”

  “It’s not ‘riding like a man,’ Ira,” said Silvana, softening her tone for Irena’s sake. “Men want you to use such phrases so that you even come to believe them, but in truth, a woman can ride however she pleases.”

  Orfeo’s big shoulders shook with his laughter. “Ah, you’re corrupting Delfina’s treasure! Beautiful!” His grin almost touched both his ears. “I suppose you’d corrupt Adelina, too, if nature hadn’t already beaten you to it. You’ll have the pair of them cropping their hair and swinging swords in no time.”

  “Really, Orfeo.” Irena sniffed. “You’re a fanciful man at the best of times, but today you outdo yourself.”