Bourne (River of Time 3.1 Novella)

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Bourne (River of Time 3.1 Novella) Page 11

by Lisa Bergren


  I tried to look over my shoulder, make out where Luca was, but the men behind me were nothing but dark, bouncing forms. I sighed. I wasn't psyched about being anyone's hostage. This had to end before we reached Luca's aunt and uncle, let alone his sister. We didn't need another young chick in the hands of these jerks. But truth be told, the main reason for my desperation, at that stage, was my body. My legs were seriously about to give out, whether I wanted them to or not.

  I heard the whinny of another horse, and I glanced forward to see the lantern-guy's gelding rise up, in silhouette, while another nearly crashed into him, racing by. The lantern fell and was extinguished. The men shouted. The leader, the guy with my reins, shied to the left.

  Under the sudden cover of darkness and commotion, I instinctively rolled. On my way down, I belatedly realized I had to find a way to use my arms and break my fall. But then I hit the ground at an angle, tumbling unexpectedly to the left, down a small ravine, over and over again. For a moment I feared I was going over a cliff, it was so steep. But then I came to a stop with a grunt, against what felt like a huge fallen tree, and I froze, listening to the commotion ten feet away.

  I heard a sword meet another. Two horses crashing through the brush, five feet away from my head. The cry of the leader, recognizing I'd escaped.

  Only then did I dare to take a breath. Quickly, I scrambled to my knees and tentatively raised my head, trying to see something, anything. It was too dark. Anything I thought I saw was clearly in my imagination. The guy would look for me—I knew it. He'd told Luca his first task would be to slit my throat. The best I could do was hide.

  So I sidled over the old, fallen tree—three times wider than me—to the far side, and settled down, partially shielded by the lower portion of its round bulk. My pulse thundered in my ears as I tried to make out all I heard. The soft cry of one man, the grunt and moan of another, men wrestling, crashing through the brush, breaking branches. Who had dared to venture in? Where was Luca?

  I found a ragged knot on the tree trunk and sawed it against the rope on my hands, back and forth, hoping against hope that it might cut me free. How was I to make it out of the forest with my hands bound behind me? But my movement only made a desperately loud cracking and scraping sound. I grit my teeth, hoping the fighting above me would cover my noise. But when I heard someone approaching the other side of the tree, down the bank, I dropped my hands and tried not to breathe. I scooched deeper into the crevice beneath the tree, trying not to think about all the creepy crawlies that I'd be joining. Tried to forget the winter chill through my damp dress, threatening to set my teeth to chattering.

  The man paused, took another few steps, and then stopped—it sounded like right above me, right across the tree. I wondered if he could hear my heart pounding. It almost hurt in my chest, so hard was it thumping.

  I could hear the crunch of the bark above me as the man edged over it, pausing to listen, then pushed off. His boot landed inches from my face, sending dust into my eyes. I closed them, willing myself not to sneeze, and sucked in my belly, fearing he might back up and discover me by chance. He paused, as if listening again.

  The entire forest was silent. All sounds of scuffle, fight, had ended.

  Slowly, he squatted and turned my way. I couldn't see him. Just sensed his movement.

  "It's true then," he whispered. "Wolves can become one with the forest."

  Luca.

  My tears took me by surprise as he pulled me into his warm, strong arms. "Shh, shhh," he said. He ran his hand down my shoulders, my back, my arms, finding my bonds, and gently turned me. Then he cut me free and pulled me back into his arms, settling me back into my hiding place, cradling me close beneath the curve of the giant log, lengthwise, his back exposed, guarding me. "They are still about," he whispered in my ear, caressing my hair, trying to ease my tears. "Hunting us. Rodolfo and I only took three of them."

  I nodded, not trusting my voice. Rodolfo. It'd been Rodolfo who came to our aid. But with three down, where were the five that remained? And where was Rodolfo now? All remained silent above us. Maybe all who were left sat in silence, waiting for another to move first.

  Luca picked up his head, his hand stilling on my hair. "Hear that?" he whispered.

  But I heard nothing for several seconds. Then I did. Many riders.

  "The Sienese," I whispered. "I told Gallo to send them after me."

  He squeezed me. "A fine, fine idea," he said, kissing my forehead as if in congratulations. He held on tight to me, waiting as they approached, growing louder and louder. "Now you stay here," he said firmly. "I shall be right back."

  He rolled out of our hiding spot as dancing lantern light came sliding through the forest in fits and starts. I couldn't help myself. I rose and peeked over the edge of the log, watching as Luca crept up the bank. It was like seeing the scene with the aid of a very slow, clunky strobe light. Every half second I caught a glimpse of a knight, the approaching patrol, decked out in Siena's finest armor, Forelli gold tunics beneath.

  "Forelli and Greco in the field!" Luca cried at the last possible second, to warn our men that there were friendlies in the mix. "Five enemies about!"

  A man rose from the brush and threw a dagger at Luca. He ducked, and I did the same behind him. It ended in a tree above my head. When the light next came my way, the knife was still trembling from impact.

  The patrol didn't waver. They split into two lines, shouting directions to search the forest for the enemy, relaying word about Luca and Rodolfo. Luca tackled the man who had sent the dagger our way, and they wrestled, but then two Sienese knights came running. Luca raised his hand when one of our men raised a sword over his head. "'Tis I, Sir Forelli!" Luca called.

  The man only narrowly missed him. If there was one thing more difficult than medieval battle, I decided, it was medieval battle at night. Because in the melee, Luca's adversary had slipped away.

  As had the others. Only our men seemed to be about, roving, combing the brush, hoping they'd run across them. Luca turned back to me and then hurried down the embankment, helping me over the log, constantly looking about.

  "Did you see which way they went?" asked the captain of the patrol.

  "Nay," Luca said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "They are as subtle as shadow and as lethal as poison. They likely head north," he said, looking left along the road.

  The captain lifted his chin and immediately mounted. "Twelve of you remain with Captain Forelli and Lady Betarrini. The rest with me."

  The others circled around us, forming a barrier. I melted into Luca's arms, and he held me close a moment, kissing my forehead, my hair. "Evangelia, I am so glad you are well." He pulled away a bit. "You are well, yes?"

  "Yes," I said. My shoulder was killing me, and my legs would be screaming bloody murder come morning—but I was well enough. Whole. And so was he.

  He hugged me again and then released me, turning toward another.

  Greco.

  They shared a smile and clasped hands. "Thank you, brother," Luca said. "You saved us from an uncertain end."

  Lord Greco gave him a small smile and rubbed away a trickle of blood at the corner of his lips. "I trailed them for a while, then lost their trail. God be praised, I found it again."

  I studied him, remembering how he and the tracker had chased me and Gabi down, once. Apparently he learned something of the art. It made me glad he was on our side now.

  "Unfortunately, when I was again able to steal close, I discovered they held you and Evangelia captive. I knew I'd have to surprise them...in a more dramatic fashion, were I to have half a chance of freeing you."

  "And you succeeded," Luca said. He shook his head. "We really must speak further about your willingness to die."

  "In time, Luca," Lord Greco said with a gentle smile, laying his hand on Luca's shoulder. "Leave it be for now."

  I reached out and touched his elbow. "Thank you, Lord Greco. Had you not dared to come alone...I think they would've heard th
e patrol behind us, and mayhap evaded them. We very well may not have escaped."

  Lord Greco turned tender eyes upon me. In them, I saw flashes of the familiar struggle—the guilt, the compassion, the hope, the fear. "Mayhap this night has granted us a more intimate use of names. Please...call me Rodolfo?"

  I smiled. "Rodolfo, then. Thank you."

  "I am glad to have been of service, m'lady. Unfortunately, with some still about, we best get you out of this wood and to safety."

  "Agreed," Luca said.

  A knight came trotting up, my bow and quiver of arrows in hand. "I believe these belong to you, m'lady?" he asked, offering them to me with a shy smile.

  "Indeed," I said. I shouldered the quiver of arrows and then the bow. Instantly, I felt better. More ready. More myself. More the She-Wolf. Far less the captive.

  "There is only one way I shall take cover," I said.

  Luca turned narrowed eyes in my direction. "Evangelia—"

  "One way only," I said, taking his hand in mine. "And that is when we know that your family is safe. Come. Let us go and retrieve them...and see them all to Castello Forelli."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ~GABRIELLA~

  I didn't know if I'd ever get the look on Lutterius's face out of my mind. The disbelief, the horror, the breaking, the loss. It was like half his own life slid from his body as he sank to a chair before the fire. We left him there, knowing that the remaining Forelli knights, Father Tomas, and Cook would make sure he was offered food and wine and led to the barracks. But would sleep come for him tonight? Would he cry himself to sleep?

  It was too real. Too close. As we rode, I prayed with everything in me—for Lia's safety, for Luca's, and then for Lia's again. Please please please please please, Lord, I prayed. But had Lady Santi offered such pleas to God? As her child was killed? As she herself was murdered? If He didn't answer her prayer, why would He answer mine?

  We rode hard and fast at a full gallop along the road, only easing our pace when the road became a forested path we had to pick through for a quarter mile in utter darkness before we met another wide, straight road again. Marcello figured we were four hours distant from Luca's uncle's home. And what would we find when we reached it? Another home burned to the ground? Nobles and servant alike marked with the triangle?

  Please please please, Lord, I prayed again, resuming my silent pleas. I didn't know why God answered some prayers and not others, but I figured if it counted, I was sure going to make sure He heard me.

  We paused at a creek to let the horses drink. Marcello pulled me a small distance away. "How do you fare, wife?"

  "I grieve for Lutterius. For us. For everyone who has lost someone they loved this day."

  He nodded and took my hands in his. "As do I," he said with a sigh.

  "Marcello," I said. "How do you fare, riding so soon?"

  "Well enough," he said, giving me a small smile, realizing that he didn't fool me.

  He was driven. Beyond anything I'd ever seen before. "Tell me, Marcello. Tell me of this brotherhood."

  He looked at me, miserable. "It is best if you do not know."

  "I already know seven of them," I said, lifting my hands. "Do not tell me the others' names. Just tell me what drew you together in the first place."

  He glanced to the others, who were beginning to pull their horses away from the stream, mounting up. "The Republic was at peace with Firenze. Trade was good. For ten years, our fathers enjoyed good trade, and we gathered to run like"—he ducked his head in a smile—"wolves." He led me over to my horse and helped me mount up. "We were dear friends, brothers, truly," he said in an undertone. "And we wanted...we wanted to hold what we all felt that final summer, forever. It was almost as if we knew that it was all about to change. We swore to serve one another unto death."

  He turned and mounted his gelding, drawing up alongside me.

  "Why the triangle?" I asked softly as we moved to join the others.

  "The symbol of the Trinity," he said. "As the Father serves the Son, as the Son serves the Spirit, as the Spirit serves the Father. Never-ending service. Unending self-sacrifice. Unity. Each one, stronger together. So we sought to be too."

  "Even when borders once again divided you," I said, thinking of Rodolfo Greco, of the man in Umbria. Of the two others who had not answered our call.

  "Even more, then," he said. He looked over the twenty-four knights and my parents behind us. Then we rode out again.

  Toward Lia. Toward Luca. And my prayer turned from a plea for preservation to a request that we might reach our loved ones in time to serve. That our Maker would strengthen us all, even while we were yet apart.

  ***

  ~EVANGELIA~

  It took us forever to get out of that forest, with Luca reluctant to use lanterns, fearful it might make us easy targets. I could see his point. My eyes already moved left and right, waiting for our enemies to attack again. My shoulders ached, not from being tied up anymore, but from being all tensed, an arrow nocked on my bowstring. It was a comfort that the first group of Sienese knights appeared to have passed this way without trouble. At least, there was no sign of them.

  The tiniest bit of a sunrise was easing the darkness to east, casting a faint lavender to the blue-black sky, when our rear guard raised a cry—"Riders approaching, Sir Forelli!" We pulled over to the side, into the brush, to await them, every man with his sword drawn. Since they were coming from the south, Luca wagered they were Sienese. But still, our knights moved to surround me, Luca to my right, Rodolfo to my left, two others before and behind me. I tried not to get scared. I'd rather face anybody but those assassins again, I thought.

  It only took a few passing by for us to make out their silhouettes in the predawn light. "Forellis in the wood!" Luca yelled, seeing what I thought I'd seen too—Gabi and Marcello racing by.

  She and Marcello pulled up—and behind them, the rest of the patrol.

  Gabi and I each slid to the ground, crying out, and raced to hug each other. "Boy, am I glad to see you guys," I said. Mom and Dad were there then too, encircling us with their arms.

  "Lia, we were so frightened," Mom said, kissing my hair. "Thank God. Thank God you are all right."

  "But we still have to get to Luca's family," I said, scared they'd want to hustle me back to Castello Forelli. I wanted to see this through. For Luca. For his sister.

  "Let's get on with it, then," Dad said. He turned and clasped hands with Luca, who gave me a weary smile of triumph. Like he'd captured Dad's favor and therefore had me all the more. Which I suppose he did.

  Quickly, Luca told Marcello and the others about what had happened to us the night before, about Rodolfo and the Sienese patrol saving us. About the five men still about.

  "Nay, our men must've chased them north. They must be crossing the border by now," Marcello said. "They dare not stay on this side of the border. All of Siena is already turning out to hunt them down."

  I shook my head. "These men...they are unlike any we have yet encountered."

  Luca nodded, backing me up. "Truly. They were sent to counter the brotherhood. And they seem frightfully dedicated to their task."

  Marcello gave him a long look. "Very well then. Let us see to your family and come up with a plan to rout these enemies out once we're safely back to Castello Forelli."

  "Yes, m'lord," Luca said, lifting me to my saddle as Marcello lifted Gabi.

  We rode out, and I felt stronger, whole, with my family again by my side. The studly Forelli knights, out en masse, as well as the dark giving way to day, didn't hurt my mojo either. We finally left the woods and urged our steeds into a full gallop down the road among the rolling hills, heading directly north for a good half hour.

  Luca led the way, turning sharply left down a valley. But then he was pulling up, his face a mask of fear. Smoke was billowing just over the next horizon.

  "Captain," Marcello barked, seeing what I did—my man tensing to ride off on his own. "You shall stand, Luca."


  "Marcello." Luca grimaced, turning away in utter frustration, but Marcello ignored him. My brother-in-law—it was still so weird to think of him that way—gestured to his scouts. "Ride around the villa at a distance and find out what you can. Return to us. We shall continue our approach."

  The men set off immediately.

  "We must steal our way forward," Marcello said firmly.

  "Why?" Luca cried out in frustration. "They know we approach!"

  "They do not. They did not know for certain where you were headed, correct?"

  "Correct," Luca said reluctantly.

  "Let us make our way up this hill and peer over. See what we can."

  I fought the urge to reach out and grab Luca's reins. I was so worried he'd tear off. Go all-commando trying to rescue his family by himself in his agitation. But he appeared to take some comfort in Marcello's plan.

  We left our horses in the care of two knights and crept up the hill, staying hunched over. At the top, among boulders, we carefully peered toward the family villa. I swallowed hard. Smoke was rising within. A servant ran out the open gates but fell, an arrow in her back. The other Sienese knights were nowhere in sight.

  Marcello snaked a hand out and took an iron grip on Luca's arm. "Hold, Luca," he grunted as his cousin struggled and then gave in. "Give me a moment to think."

  "There," I said, looking beyond the villa. "See? To the west."

  We could see our scouts dipping around the hills on either side, but in the distance, on the far side, dust rose from a group of twelve riders in camel tunics and capes. "Lerici's men?" I asked hopefully.

  "I hope to God you're right," Marcello grunted. He eyed them in the distance. "In thirty seconds, we shall stride down this hill like we own it. Lia, I want you to take out any of them you can. You too, Matteo," he said to another archer.

  "And then what?" Luca said. "They shall murder them all before our eyes."

  "Nay, they shall not," Marcello said, his eyes moving to Rodolfo for the first time. "Because they'll want us more. We are of far greater value than your aunt and uncle—even your sister, if she has returned. They'll entertain a trade—your family for three of the brotherhood."

 

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