Bourne (River of Time 3.1 Novella)

by Lisa Bergren

  "Tie her up," the leader said. "Beside him. But not too close."

  In short order, I was spread-eagled beside Luca. The men hung out at my ankles overlong, pantomiming caressing my leg, but with one look toward the leader, I knew I had nothing more than that to fear. He wanted me for something bigger.

  "This a part of your plan for rescue, m'lady?" Luca asked out of the corner of his mouth.

  I laughed under my breath. "Indeed. I find that if one gets herself tied up, completely vulnerable, they let down their guard. And that is when we can strike."

  He laughed then, and the sound of it heartened me, but then he lifted his chin, as if the action hurt him. I looked over at him in concern, remembering Marcello and how sick he had become after his beating. "Luca?"

  "Be at peace," he said, wincing. "I shall survive."

  "Quit your banter," called the leader. They were building a fire in the center of the clearing now, bringing in water and unwrapping food. He eyed me for a long moment and then glanced over at Luca, then back to me.

  "I'll have your name," I called back.

  The men all laughed. "She has courage, I'll give her that," said one.

  The leader stared back at me. "You are She-Wolf, in our presence. You may call me He-Wolf."

  "That, I fear," said Luca, "is my title."

  "Not this night," said the man. He rose slowly, and the look of lust in his eyes made my mouth grow dry with fear. Luca tensed beside me. My stomach clenched. So much for not being scared about that...

  The leader approached, running his eyes over me from head to toe. Not since Paratore had I been so freaked. I fought to ignore him, to not allow him to feel my fear.

  "You touch her, Fiorentini," Luca ground out, "and I shall flay the skin from your body while you still live."

  The man's eyes flicked from me to him. "You are hardly in a position to threaten me," he said calmly. "But what is to keep me from skinning you here, in front of your lady?" He moved over to him, his face an inch from Luca's. "I bet she would tell me about your brothers, even if Lord Santi refused." He eyed me. "What would it take, m'lady? Watching me cut off his fingers, one by one? Would it take one? Five?"

  "Luca Forelli would never forgive me if I betrayed him," I said.

  The man laughed. "Be that as it may, we'll have weeks to test the theory, once we get you to Firenze. I cannot decide which my people would favor more—watching Lord Forelli's dearest cousin and captain slowly put to death, or his sister-in-law." He threw up his hands. "I best take you both back and allow the people to decide. Surely one of you shall break, sooner than later."

  "Why not kill us now?" Luca spat. "As you did the Santi family?" I figured he was visualizing what I was—Gabi up in that cursed cage, weak with hunger and thirst. We could not be taken back to Firenze. We could not. There surely would be no escape for us, no rescue. Not this time.

  I wrenched against my bonds, but they held true, as they had for Luca. Our captor laughed. "Why not kill you now? Because I need the secrets you hold. We know of the brotherhood—Lords Marcello and Fortino, Hercolani and Santi. Rizzo evaded us, but he shan't be so fortunate next time." He tapped his chin. "Then there is you, Sir Luca, the once-priest, Tomas. The traitor, Greco. Who else?"

  Luca stared back at him, his lips clamped in a line.

  "Regardless, you shall ensure our safe passage back across the border on the morrow, should we not evade your men. And even if you do not break, we shall continue to steal across the border until we are certain that every one of your brothers is dead. On the way home, I simply need to secure but one more target." He pulled his dagger from his belt and ran the tip along my throat and down toward my sternum, all the while staring at me. "Which you shall help us identify, beginning with where you were heading this night."

  I stared into his dark eyes. "Never."

  He smiled a little. "Never say never, She-Wolf. Everyone has a price. Everyone. Don't they, Sir Forelli?" He slid the dagger into his waistband and then, with a playful grin to his men over his shoulder, rubbed his hands together as if in anticipation and went to the hem of my skirt. He began easing it up, his hands on my ankle, then calf. The men behind him hooted and hollered.

  I forced myself not to cry out. I only stared at him, hating him more than I'd ever hated anyone in my life. Even Paratore. And that was saying something.

  It's not good to hate, Mom's voice said in my head. Hate the action, not the person.

  Which was all well and good in theory. In reality, it was a lot more difficult.

  A whole lot more difficult.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ~EVANGELIA~

  "Nay," the man mused, pleasure in his voice, "these are not the legs of any man. The wolf is surely female after all." His hands moved past my knee, and I bit my lip.

  "Stop," Luca ground out at last, his voice strangled.

  The leader paused, his warm hands lingering above my knee, and slowly he cocked his head in Luca's direction.

  "I shall lead you to where I was going," Luca said. "But you shall leave the lady be. At once."

  I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Surely he didn't intend to lead them directly to his family...not after what we'd seen this day. What this guy had threatened! But I also wasn't anxious to let the jerk in front of me continue to feel me up. So I stayed quiet.

  The leader straightened, slowly, his eyes on me. It was with some relief that I felt the skirt of my gown fall back down into place. "You'd say anything to protect this one," he said to Luca, still staring at me.

  "It is as you say," Luca said. "But I am a man of my word."

  The leader was still looking into my eyes as if he could read my thoughts, discover the truth there. Then he moved over to Luca as if reluctant to do so. "Swear it on this lady's life."

  "I swear it."

  Our captor squinted, aware now that something was off. "You were en route to one of the men in the secret brotherhood?"

  It was Luca's turn to remain silent.

  "It matters not," said the leader. "Whatever location is vital enough for Sir Forelli to try and warn is likely advantageous for us to conquer. Eat, drink, see to the horses," he said over his shoulder to the others. "We ride in an hour."

  ***

  I kept freeze-framing scenes as the minutes passed, like I was going to put it down in graphic novel format when I was back and safe at the castello. Not that Mom and Dad would ever approve. Talk about messing with history. I was pretty sure that there'd not been any graphic novels prior to the twentieth century. It just was my method of coping—putting into art what I couldn't quite process in reality.

  If I could ever draw or paint again. My arms had long ago gone numb, stretched out and up as they were, and felt so thick and static that I figured they might just crack away at any point like old, dead tree limbs.

  The men ate, offering us none, and I salivated over the smell of dried meat warming in some wine over the fire, which only made me furious with myself. As if my very body was betraying me. More than anything, I wished for water. It'd been since late morning that I'd had anything to drink, and I'd vomited it all up.

  Worse, we could hear the burble and glup of a nearby brook, from which the men were clearly drawing water, filling skins, and drinking their fill in front of us. Along with wine. They toasted their success of the day. For the sacking of two castles, the murder of a Forelli knight, and the capture of us.

  Two castles. Who else had been lost this day? How many?

  I loathed them. I shot them looks that I hoped would say Die, scum, regardless of what my mother would say. They were heartless, truly heartless. Demons, devils. My mind went back to the little Santi boy, his throat slit. How could they? How could they?

  And yet my body screamed for water. I thought of dying here, this night. Limp in my bonds. Never returning. Gabi, Mom, and Dad hearing the news for the first time. The gasps, the pain in their eyes—it was like watching a movie in front of me. If I hadn't been so dry, I might've wep
t. For the first time, I understood, truly understood, a bit of what Gabi had suffered in that cursed cage. And it'd been another day, more, from now, when we'd freed her. How had she managed it? The hours of tortuous thirst?

  "Please," I whispered, hating myself for my weakness. "Please."

  The leader's head pulled up and turned toward me. He raised his hand and shushed the men, who were laughing. Slowly he rose, and I shoved back a shudder of fear. "Yes, m'lady?" he asked, if he was nothing more than a man in the castello, seeking my approval.

  "A bit of water," I managed to say, my tongue thick and dead in my mouth. "May I?"

  He sidled closer to me. "Beg me for it."

  "Evangelia," Luca warned from my side.

  But I could not help myself. Water, only a bit of water, was all I could think about. "Please," I said.

  He smiled. "A She-Wolf, begging me for anything. I never thought I'd see the day." He stared at me a moment longer and then sidled back to the fire, lifted his skin, which was fat with liquid, and returned to my side. Making sure his companions were watching, he lifted it high and let the stream pour from its mouth, watching me open my lips like a hungry bird, swallowing even as I closed my eyes against the splash. The water washed over my face and ran down my neck, but all I could do was open my mouth and beg for more, swallowing and swallowing. The liquid ran down my parched throat, but it still felt raw, like sandpaper, soaking up every drop, deep within. I ducked my head away, trying to grab a breath even as he still poured.

  Luca wrenched and shouted, "Cease your abuse, man!"

  "What? The lady thirsts! I only mean to sate her desire." He ran out of water, but there was another right behind him, dousing me. I could drink no more and still breathe, but a third let the water from his skin fall over me, enjoying the game, until I was soaked through, the winter chill then seeping in. Two more stepped forward, their breath forming clouds before their faces.

  I stared at one after another, refusing to cry out even as they poured. Blinking, staring hard at them, hoping they knew the depravity of their own miserable existence as they messed with a defenseless woman. And as I did so, I dreamed of sinking an arrow into the blackened heart of every one of them.

  "So help me," Luca shouted, wrenching against his bonds again beside me, "I shall—"

  "Enough," said the leader at last, eying us from the edge of the fire five feet away. "Fill your skins again and mount up. We ride shortly." Immediately, the others did as he bid, still laughing under their breath. I was pretty sure Luca was riled up enough to cut down three on his own if he could get ahold of a sword. And I'd take the others.

  But the leader came up to me and cut me free, and as my arms fell to my sides, I realized it was as bad as I had anticipated. I wondered if I'd ever be able to hold a bow or sword again. I could feel the weight of my arms, like lumps of dead flesh, but nothing from the shoulders down. He cut the bonds at my ankles and easily turned me around, tying my hands behind my back. At least, that's what I assumed he was doing. I could not feel any of it, only the tug and strain across my chest.

  He looked up at Luca. "Try nothing," the man warned him. "For this one shall ride behind me, and if you do anything out of order, my first task shall be to slit her throat. All I need is her head to bring victory to my people. Tragedy that it might be, I have no need to bring the rest of her along, if pressed."

  Luca stared back at him, loathing in his eyes, and nodded once. My captor shoved me down to my knees, then went to work, cutting Luca down. Luca fell heavily, his face crumpled with pain. Again, I worried about the beating he had suffered, wondering what was happening inside his lean torso...or was it only that he had hung there longer than I?

  Another man brought horses alongside us. Gruffly, I was lifted up and onto my horse. The leader shoved my feet into the stirrups, all business now, and tied my reins to his saddle.

  "How am I to hold on?" I asked, fighting the desire to scream as feeling began to enter my arms again with all the fun of a thousand needles.

  "Use those fine She-Wolf legs of yours," grunted the leader, mounting his horse.

  Two men lifted Luca up into his saddle and handed his reins to a third. In seconds they were all assembled. They were fast, I'd give them that. And clearly lethal. But two things gave me hope as we rode out.

  They'd been deep into the wine. Hopefully it would ease their guard.

  And by now, surely, the knights of Siena were hard on our tail. Please God, let them be on their way.

  But what if they'd chosen to wait for daybreak?

  ***

  ~GABRIELLA~

  We all sat around the tables that night at the castello, trying to choke down some food as we awaited word from Lia, Luca, Lutterius, Georgii, and Rodolfo. And we jumped every time the Great Hall door opened. Halfway through our roast venison, a servant arrived with a message. He hurried over and offered it to Marcello.

  Marcello wiped his mouth with the edge of the tablecloth—something I still wasn't used to—and then took the paper from him. He unrolled the tiny scroll, and I knew it was a message via the dovecote. Once Marcello had become one of the Nine, he'd established a colony of homing pigeons that flew solely between the palazzo in Siena to the castello here. It was one way he secured more time outside the city's walls than within...the medieval version of a cell phone.

  He glanced at me and then leaned to one side, toward the torch on the wall, in order to read it. His mouth became a grim line, and he rose, his eyes wild.

  "Marcello," I said.

  Lutterius entered the Great Hall, just home, his face in a customary grin. The other knights shouted their greetings, lifting goblets in a toast as he passed. He approached with a jaunty step and ducked into a short bow before Marcello. "M'lord! Glad tidings from our friends in Umbria. All is well, and her occupants on guard."

  His smile faded as he noticed, at last, the chagrin on his master's. "M'lord?"

  "Lutterius," Marcello said, clearly stricken but trying to cover. "We welcome your return. 'Tis happy word indeed. Please...take your ease. Sup. Drink. You have done well."

  "Thank you, m'lord," Lutterius said, concern still knitting his brow. I could tell he wanted to ask other questions but dared not, not when he'd clearly been dismissed. Reluctantly, he turned, and a bench full of knights made way for him, patting him on the back, shouting his name again.

  "Marcello," I said again.

  His eyes met mine, then Mom's and Dad's. "Come," he said, gesturing to the fireplace on the far side of the hall. We quickly followed him. Marcello paused by Captain Pezzati, put his hand on the man's shoulder, and said a quiet word in his ear, and the man rose to follow behind us. I could feel the curious eyes of everyone else at the five tables as we passed. But it wasn't until we were out of earshot that Marcello turned to look at each of us.

  "Luca and Evangelia reached Villa Gallo. The family is safe in Siena. But Luca went north to his family's villa, probably fearing the worst. His sister is due home any day now, and after seeing what he did at Castello Santi..." He paused, chin in hand, pacing, then looked back to us. "Evangelia was to rest at Palazzo Forelli overnight, then travel back to us under guard."

  "But she didn't reach it," I said, my voice sounding dead in my own ears.

  He shook his head gravely. "They discovered Georgii," he whispered, "hanged."

  Mom gasped, and I covered my mouth. Slowly, I slid my eyes over to Lutterius, Georgii's twin. Impossible. The brothers were as hard to imagine separated, forever, as Lia and I were.

  I looked to Marcello. "She went after Luca," I said.

  Clearly miserable, he nodded.

  "So you're telling me that my daughter is somewhere out there," Dad said, his voice rising, gesturing toward the dark window, "alone? With a band of killers about?"

  The Great Hall had fallen silent. Marcello cleared his throat. "Hopefully not alone, Lord Betarrini," he said quietly. "I pray to God she is with Sir Luca."

  "Small comfort, that," Dad said.
/>
  I laughed under my breath. So much for a 10:00 p.m. curfew... But fear choked any crazy sense of humor right out of me. Lia...

  "A contingent of Sienese set out," Marcello said. "One portion a patrol from our own men at Palazzo Forelli. They are good men."

  Dad shook his head and rubbed his neck. "We shall ride after them," he said, pointing at Marcello in a way that I'd not seen anyone else get away with. "Without delay."

  "Agreed," Marcello said. He raised a hand. "Full contingent, two patrols. Ready in the courtyard in five minutes." The knights rose as one, as fast to action as a fire station crew scrambling after hearing the alarm. "Lutterius, wait," Marcello called, agony in every syllable.

  My folks and Captain Pezzati left to prepare for their departure. I felt a thousand years old as I turned to face Lutterius, who approached us with a wary look etched across his face. For the first time, I wondered if being Lady Forelli meant more weight and responsibility than I might be able to bear. How many more, Lord? How many more must I tell that their loved ones are lost?

  Marcello took my hand in his, and I squeezed it, knowing he felt twice the burden. The least I could do was to stand, to support him. To love him. Any way I knew how.

  "Lutterius," Marcello said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder, "you shall remain behind. Rest. 'Tis been a long day for you, and my sorrow is deep...."

  ***

  ~EVANGELIA~

  I could do little but hold on to my horse's back, my thighs aching, begging for release. A man in front of us held up the lantern before him, leading the way through the dark night, but the light was scant, the shadows deep. The band of Fiorentini seemed able to see in the dark, unperturbed by the curving road, the branches that we narrowly ducked in time.

  Gradually, I understood that they felt braver under cover of night. Without aid of moon and especially deep within the forest, there was little likelihood that they'd meet up with Sienese patrols. Plus, they were moving north, back toward home, which was undoubtedly making them breathe more easily. Last, they had us. A most excellent bargaining chip.