Rose Red

by Speer, Flora

  “I still have friends in the Aullian army,” Francesco said. “I am certain that many of them will be happy to join us against the Guidi. Their change of allegiance will reduce the number of men available to back the Guidi family. That desertion will make the conquest of Aullia easier. Those same men will also enlarge the army available to us when we do march on Monteferro.”

  “An interesting suggestion, Francesco,” Andrea said. “I will consider it most seriously.”

  “You have no right to make such a decision without consulting me,” Eleonora objected.

  “I am a soldier, madonna. You are not,” Francesco said, cutting off her further protest. “Believe me, I too want revenge on Niccolo Stregone, for the personal reasons which I have explained to you. As for the Guidi family, I was aware of their depredations in Monteferro before you and Bartolomeo described the situation to me. The Guidi have all but ruined a once prosperous city-state during their years of control over it. While the people suffer, the Guidi have amassed a huge fortune for themselves. Now that they hold Aullia, they will soon impose on it the same high taxes and corrupt government under which Monteferro struggles.”

  “My informants tell me the process of draining the treasury of Aullia is already well under way,” Andrea said.

  “A large part of the treasury is certainly draining into the pockets of that evil dwarf, Stregone,” Vanni voiced his opinion. “If ever there lived a treacherous councilor, Stregone is that man. Only let me get my hands around his throat and he will not survive to arrange any more assassinations.”

  Bianca made a frightened sound at this declaration of violent intentions. When Vanni turned to her, to touch her hand and reassure her, Bianca pulled her fingers from his and moved her chair away by a few inches. Vanni looked puzzled but did not comment and soon returned his attention to the conversation, which was growing more intense.

  “Stregone is a wily fox,” said Francesco, “but we will bring him to earth. I know how to do it.”

  “How wily can he be,” asked Rosalinda, “if he was foolish enough to show himself here? He was almost drowned in the river, and almost died again when he fell at the waterfall.”

  “He was following Vanni and me,” said Francesco. “He could not let us get away, and I suspect he did not trust his henchmen to carry out the task of finding and killing us.”

  “But you did get away.”

  “Thanks to you, Madonna Rosalinda.” Francesco smiled at her from across the table.

  Bianca made another soft sound of fear, making Rosalinda wish for her sister’s sake that the conversation would change to a different topic. This was not to be. The very person who should have been most aware of Bianca’s secret terrors now took up the subject.

  “Why was it so important to Stregone that you and Vanni not get away from him?” Eleonora asked. She had been listening with close attention to what the men were saying. With her eyes narrowed in awakening mistrust, she addressed Francesco. “Are you so dangerous to Stregone that he would try to kill you himself?”

  “Not I,” Francesco answered her. “Vanni. And Andrea. He would then want to eliminate me as a witness to his crimes.”

  “Why?” Eleonora asked again, her voice charged with a peculiar tension.

  “To make himself secure,” Vanni said. “He killed our father and tried to kill us, too. He would have succeeded were it not for Francesco’s bravery in getting Andrea and me to safety. We had to fight our way out of the city, the three of us against Stregone and a dozen of his men. Then they pursued us into the mountains.”

  “I see.” Eleonora spoke somewhat absently. She appeared to be deep in thought, but Rosalinda had no doubt her mother was listening to every word Vanni spoke and was drawing her own conclusions.

  “I was wounded in the fight,” Vanni said. “Stregone himself slashed my left arm, inflicting a deep wound. He would have killed me had Francesco not seen what was happening and hastened to my aid. That was when Francesco and I were separated from Andrea in the confusion. That’s why Andrea and I believed each other dead for the better part of a year.”

  While Eleonora’s calculating glance swept from Vanni to Francesco and then on to Andrea, Rosalinda put her hand over Andrea’s. She had not known about the confrontation Vanni spoke of, the desperate attempt of three men to win through to a freedom that was scarcely less dangerous than the fight itself. Andrea had told her only of the loss of his brother and of his flight to the mountains, claiming that the rest of the details were too painful to recount. Now it seemed to Rosalinda that Andrea had never told Eleonora about that battle, either. Rosalinda saw her mother regarding Andrea with a fascinated, speculative gaze that suggested there were as many unanswered questions swirling through her mind as there were in her daughter’s thoughts.

  “There are few men important enough to be assassinated by Niccolo Stregone himself,” Eleonora said, “and fewer still of those men also have twin sons whom Stregone would personally want to assassinate. I have asked this question of you before, Andrea, and always you have evaded an answer. I allowed the evasion because I needed you to work for me and because I believed you would carry out my orders as you were sworn to do. Now I must insist on an honest answer from you. What is your family name?”

  “Vanni hasn’t told you?” As he spoke, Andrea’s fingers closed around Rosalinda’s hand, holding her as if he feared she would be torn from him if he relaxed his grip.

  “Vanni put me off, as you have done,” Eleonora said. “So did your friend, Francesco, though he was quick enough to admit to his own family name when I guessed it. I should have guessed your name, too. I would have done so, had I not been distracted at that moment.” She shot an accusing glance at Francesco.

  “And what is your guess, madonna?” Andrea asked in the softest, most dangerous voice that Rosalinda had ever heard him use.

  “Sotani.” Eleonora’s tone matched Andrea’s for quietness and danger. “It is the name of a family of vipers.”

  “Not true, madonna!” Vanni cried. He would have said more, but Francesco silenced him with a motion of one hand.

  “It is true.” Eleonora answered Vanni’s outburst while keeping her eyes on Andrea. “The confirmation of my assumption lies in Francesco’s insistence that you should use the army for which I am paying to conquer Aullia first. You young men are the twin sons of Federigo Sotani, the late Duke of Aullia.”

  “Yes, .madonna, we are.” Andrea squeezed Rosalinda’s hand so tightly that she winced. He did not seem to notice.

  “What a fool I have been!” Eleonora sprang to her feet. “I am financing the return to power of the sons of the man who arranged the assassination of my husband!”

  “No!” Vanni shouted. He was on his feet, too, confronting Eleonora face to face. “Our father would never have condoned such a wicked deed.”

  “Vanni is right.” Andrea had not moved. He still sat next to Rosalinda, with her hand clasped in his, and he spoke in measured tones. His voice was calmer than his brother’s, and his face revealed nothing of his emotions. “Our father and Girolamo Farisi were on friendly terms.”

  “They were rivals!” Eleonora declared, her eyes flashing.

  “Friendly rivals,” Andrea insisted. “They admired and respected each other. You insult the memories of both men to suggest otherwise.”

  “And you insult my intelligence with your claim of an honest father!” Eleonora leaned forward, her palms flat, her fingers splayed on the tabletop. “Here you sit, at my table, having eaten my food and accepted my hospitality for the night, clutching my daughter’s hand as if she could save you, while your brother follows Bianca around as if he were a lovelorn puppy. I tell you, Andrea Sotani, neither you nor your brother will ever have a daughter of mine to wife!”

  “On the contrary, Madonna Eleonora,” Andrea responded with perfect composure, “I intend to make Bianca Duchess of Monteferro just as you wanted and, in addition, to make Rosalinda Duchess of Aullia. Do not forget, you have already prom
ised Rosalinda to me as my reward for carrying out your plans. I will not release you from that promise.”

  “Reward?” Shocked by this revelation, Rosalinda snatched her hand away from Andrea’s grasp. “I am no man’s war booty!” A white-hot fire was burning in her breast. She knew what it was. Her heart was breaking. Ignoring the pain, aware of where her duty lay, she got up from her seat to join her mother.

  “There, you see?” Eleonora snarled at Andrea. “My loyal daughter will not have you.”

  “As for Bianca,” Andrea went on as if neither Rosalinda nor Eleonora had spoken, “You yourself have said to me that she will need to marry a great nobleman who is strong enough to hold and rule Monteferro in her name, since a woman cannot rule on her own. What better nobleman than the brother of the neighboring duke?”

  “Marry?” Vanni exclaimed at this speech. For a moment he looked stunned at the idea his brother had put forth. However, he recovered quickly and smiled at the equally astounded young woman sitting next to him. “Bianca, will you marry me?” He reached for her hand.

  “Marry the son of the man who killed my father?” Bianca cried, scrambling out of her chair to get away from him. Quickly, she moved to stand on the other side of her mother from Rosalinda. “I would rather die!”

  “Madonna Eleonora,” Andrea said, maintaining his calm tones amid the passionate emotions being displayed by the women, “I advise you to agree to the arrangements Francesco has described to you. I can promise that Monteferro and Aullia will exist side by side in friendship and complete harmony for as long as Vanni and I live, and we will endeavor to see to it that our children, who will be first cousins, will also live peacefully together.”

  “Do not try to manipulate me with false promises,” Eleonora cried. “I have believed too many of your lies to be trapped by them again. You are greedy for power.”

  “I did not entrap you, madonna,” Andrea pointed out to her. “It was your own friend, your honest retainer, Bartolomeo, who first suggested this plan of capturing Monteferro to me. Please remember that the entire scheme was originally your idea.”

  “Madonna Eleonora,” Bartolomeo broke into the quarrel, “you will recall that I have always insisted that the Duke of Aullia had nothing to do with your husband’s death. Though they were often rivals, as you say, those two men were never true enemies. I continue to believe the culprit was Niccolo Stregone, acting on behalf of the Guidi family.”

  “If that is so, why did Stregone flee to Aullia as soon as my husband was dead?” Eleonora demanded of the men. “Why did the Duke of Aullia accept Stregone into his court so readily?”

  “Stregone claimed to be fleeing from the vengeance of the Guidi against him because he had been your husband’s chief councilor,” Andrea said. “The claim seemed reasonable and so my father, who was no friend of the Guidi, made a place for Stregone at his court. It is my belief that Stregone’s arrival at Aullia was part of a planned deception, that Stregone secretly remained in the pay of the Guidi family, in return for which he regularly passed information to them. I believe that information helped the Guidi to take over Aullia.”

  “I agree with this theory, Andrea,” Bartolomeo said. “It fits with what I know of Stregone and of the devious methods of the Guidi.”

  “Don’t you turn against me, too, Bartolomeo,” Eleonora cried.

  “We are not against you,” Francesco told her. “We all want the same thing, the end of Niccolo Stregone, the restoration of the rightful rulers of Monteferro and Aullia, and peace between the two cities. It seems to me that we ought to be able to reach an agreement rather quickly.”

  “You expect me to agree with the sons of Federigo Sotani?” Eleonora cried, staring at Francesco. “Are you mad?”

  “Admit what is obvious to every man here, Madonna Eleonora,” Andrea said. “You are checkmated. While you used me as your weapon to take back Monteferro, I was using you to take back Aullia for myself. Since my father’s death, I am the rightful duke.”

  “I will admit no such thing,” Eleonora said, drawing herself up with great dignity. “Nor will I reach any agreement with men who manipulate me, who lie to me and cheat me. Andrea, Vanni, Francesco, all three of you are to leave Villa Serenita at dawn tomorrow. Bartolomeo, if you are in accord with these schemers, you may leave, too. You men may not believe a woman is capable of ruling a city in her own behalf, but I tell you, unreliable creatures that you are, that I was once a full partner with Girolamo Farisi in ruling Monteferro!”

  “If that is so, madonna,” said Vanni, most unwisely, “then I am surprised you did not know that he and my father were never murderous enemies.”

  Eleonora’s only response to this remark was a look that should have scorched poor Vanni into cinders.

  “I know how to manage my own lands here,” Eleonora went on with no diminution in passion and as if Vanni had not spoken at all. “I will give the orders to the men-at-arms, I will see to the fields and the harvest. If need be, I will gird on a sword and fight Niccolo Stregone hand-to-hand if he threatens me or my daughters!

  “As for you,” Eleonora exclaimed, leaning forward again until she was almost nose to nose with the still sitting Andrea, “as for you, I rue the winter night when I admitted a bear to my house!

  “You have not defeated me, Andrea.” Eleonora straightened to put an arm around each of her daughters. “Do not underestimate me.”

  “That I would never do, madonna,” Andrea said.

  “You are to be gone by first light. If you are not, I will set the men-at-arms on you.” With that threat, Eleonora swept from the terrace into the sitting room, taking her daughters with her.

  After pausing only to exchange a few whispered words with her husband, Valeria followed the other women into the house, leaving the men alone.

  “A woman of fire and passion,” mused Francesco, looking after Eleonora.

  “A woman of great determination,” Bartolomeo said, “as my wife and I have cause to know.”

  “I do believe the late Duke of Monteferro must have been a happy man.” Francesco’s gray-blue eyes were twinkling.

  “Happy for the most part,” Bartolomeo agreed, adding with the hint of a smile, “but sometimes he was bedeviled.”

  “Well, Andrea, prince of schemers.” Francesco turned to his young friend. “What say you, now that my military advice and the knowledge of your full name have together raised a storm of emotion among the ladies? Shall we take Aullia first as I suggested? Or is it to be Monteferro as Madonna Eleonora wants?”

  “Both,” said Andrea.

  “What?” Francesco gave a hearty laugh. “Now, there’s a fine madness for you. Though, knowing you as I do, I am sure you have good reasons for whatever you plan.”

  “The army I have raised is large enough to divide into two parts,” Andrea said. “However, I believe a bit of trickery will win us more than the use of brute force. The people I have talked to, most of them friends of Luca Nardi, all claim Monteferro is ripe for revolt and that Aullia is in a state of perpetual unrest since the Guidi took it. Francesco, your contacts inside the Aullian army will be a great help to us if they make the situation in Aullia worse for the Guidi.”

  “And is this reason enough to attack both cities at once?” asked Bartolomeo, looking from Andrea to Francesco as if he found this new idea difficult to comprehend.

  “If we attack one city,” Andrea said, “we will give Stregone warning of our intentions and thus provide a chance for him to escape. By taking both cities at the same time, we can trap him wherever he is and capture him.”

  “Perhaps, after you have him, you can wring the truth of Girolamo Farisi’s death out of the wicked creature,” Bartolomeo suggested. “That murder has haunted Madonna Eleonora and her daughters for too long.”

  “A confession from Stregone that the Duke of Aullia had nothing to do with her husband’s assassination would do much to soften Madonna Eleonora toward these two young men,” Francesco agreed. “Which, in turn, would f
acilitate their marriages to the ladies their hearts desire.”

  “How I wish I could be a part of your campaign,” Bartolomeo said with a sigh for the masculine, military pleasures he would be missing. “But my place is here, where I have been for fifteen years. I cannot leave Madonna Eleonora.”

  “From what I have seen of the women of Villa Sera this evening,” said Francesco with a chuckle, “Madonna Eleonora and her daughters together would very likely have your head if you proposed to leave them, and your wife would sweep up your remains after they were finished.”

  The men shared a laugh at the incomprehensible ways of women. Then they refilled the wine glasses before they drew together around the table to talk of military matters until the candles guttered out and left them in darkness.

  Chapter 17

  “Liars! Wicked schemers!” Still furious with the men an hour after leaving them on the terrace, Eleonora paced back and forth in her private suite of rooms. “There must be a way for me to circumvent their plans.”

  “Why would you want to do so?” Valeria asked. “My dear friend, Andrea intends to carry out the very same scheme that you devised.”

  “Not my scheme.” Eleonora halted, whirling to face Valeria. “His scheme, modified, changed against my wishes, into what Andrea wants. Don’t you desert me, too, Valeria.”

  “You know I never would. Haven’t I been with you for all these years? Nor will Bartolomeo leave you.”

  “Do not try to convince me of that, not when he is below, conferring with those two spawn of the Sotani line and their condottiere friend.”

  “When he has finished conferring with them, Bartolomeo will know everything the others are planning,” Valeria said with serene reasonableness. “You may be certain he will tell you what those plans are.”

  “Bartolomeo will know only what Andrea and Francesco want him to know. Hah! Francesco! That man.” Eleonora bit off the condottiere’s name as if the very word hurt her mouth. She resumed her pacing. When she spoke again there was a distinct note of regret in her voice. “After so many years, I had almost begun to believe that I might dare to care.... What are you girls doing, standing by the door?”