Waterfall

by Lisa T. Bergren

  He grabbed my arm, sending shards of pain to my shoulder. “Keep your voice down,” he hissed. He looked out to the courtyard and then back to me. “If you want to be with your sister again, you will help us gain access.”

  “Every man in Castello Forelli will die defending her.”

  “Nay,” he said dismissively. “No one’s ideals are as high as they believe. Life is too precious. They shall surrender.”

  I shook my head. “You do not know the Forellis or their knights very well.”

  “And you do not understand the intricacies of Toscana politics. Go, Gabriella. Fetch your sister and return to Normandy, if that is where you are truly from. Simply be on your way and never look back. Leave Toscana to us.”

  I considered his words. Maybe it was best, for me to leave, fast, before I could mess it all up further. I’d done enough damage to Marcello and Romana’s coming marriage. Maybe I could somehow warn Marcello in time, after I had Lia…somehow, some way, we had to find our way out again. Without selling out the good guys.

  At least, all the way. “How will I get word to you?”

  A smile spread across his face and for the first time, I saw his white teeth, gleaming in the moonlight. “That’s a good girl. That’s a very good girl.” He leaned forward and pinched my right cheek between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ll come to you at Castello Forelli. They do not yet have just cause to decline me a measure of hospitality. Be certain you have what I need when I arrive.” He leaned closer, dropped his hand, brushed his lips swiftly across each of my cheeks, and then strode off, his dark cape fluttering behind him.

  I wiped my cheeks with my hands—as if I could wash off his kisses—and shuddered.

  The good news was that my sister was alive and within reach.

  The bad news was I had just made a pact with the devil.

  I hurried across the piazza, staying near the side in case I needed to pause and hide in the shadows. Marcello and Luca would freak if they knew I was out at night, unescorted. They were still looking for me. When they found I wasn’t in the palazzo, they’d probably return to the dance, certain they’d just missed me in the crowd.

  I saw them then, moving through the tunnel, toward me. I ducked into a stone doorway and froze, listening to their muffled voices echo across Il Campo but unable to tell what they were saying.

  I had to leave, return to Castello Forelli on my own, and figure out a way to get to Castello Paratore and free Lia before Lord Vannucci got there himself. Otherwise, I was doomed to play spy for them…and I couldn’t live with myself if I sold the Forellis out.

  I thought through my plan to reach Castello Forelli. I could hide in the woods if I came across any rogue bands of mercenaries or soldiers. It was my only chance. In the light of day, I’d never make it.

  The men disappeared into the Palazzo Pubblico and I rushed up and through the tunnel, then down Via di Banchi to the Rossis’ home. Hurriedly, I knocked at the door, and a wide-eyed servant allowed me access. “Lady Betarrini! Lord Forelli was just here, looking for you.”

  “Yes,” I said, feigning confusion. “Somehow we got separated in the crowd at the dance and then I was outside, all alone.” I brought a hand to my chest as if even the memory brought me breathless with fear. “I am so frightfully weary. I believe I might be taking ill.”

  “Oh, my poor, dear, lady.” She drew me in and shut the door, locking it behind me. I eyed the keys on her waistband, knowing I would need them to get into the stables and get a horse. There was no way I could walk all those miles in the stupid tapestry slippers. My feet would be a mass of broken blisters by the time I arrived. Lady Forelli had been my height, but clearly, her feet had been a half-size smaller.

  She tucked her arm in mine and led me upstairs. “I’ll help you out of your gown and you can go right to sleep. You’ll see. You’re probably just overwrought with excitement over the ball and all those dashing young men.”

  “I’m certain you are right,” I muttered, faking my agreement.

  She unlocked the door and entered the room in front of me. Before she could hook the ring back on her waistband, I turned to her and presented the back of my gown. “Oh, please, dear lady. Suddenly I feel faint. I must be out of this dress in an instant!”

  I forced back a small smile when I heard her drop her keys to the table as she immediately set about her task. I had seen enough of her to know she was kindhearted but a bit forgetful. Forgive me, friend, I thought, as I carefully placed my lace handkerchief over the keys.

  “Would you like me to brush out your hair, m’lady?” she said once I had shed the russet gown.

  “Nay, nay,” I said turning to her. “I can see to it myself. But I might want to take a turn on the rooftop, gain some air, if my stomach doesn’t settle. You know how it is. Can you help me into this other dress?”

  I lifted my regular gown out of a trunk at the foot of my bed and handed it to her. She held it up as I put my arms in, then turned to allow her to button it up the back. “I know how you feel, m’lady. If I dare to eat onion, my stomach gives me fits all night.”

  I hustled her to the door, and she paused there a moment, looking befuddled. She put her hands in her pockets as if looking for something. I held my breath. “Oh, dear. I have the strangest sensation I’m forgetting something.”

  I bodily turned her and gently urged her outward again. “If you remember what it is, come back at once. It’s late, and no doubt you’re as weary as I.”

  “Yes, yes,” she muttered, walking, not at all convinced, but obedient, above all things, just as a good servant ought to be.

  I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, then hurried to shove my other things in my two valises. I wrapped the bread in a cloth, and stuffed it in too. I took the round bottle of wine, emptied it in the chamber pot, and then filled it with water from a pitcher, popping the cork back in.

  Then I rushed to the door and quietly pulled it open.

  He nearly gave me a heart attack.

  Marcello stood there in the doorway, left hand on the casing above, right thumb tucked into his waistband. Luca was across the hall, arms crossed, leaning back against the wall.

  “Where are you going, Gabriella?” Marcello asked me.

  “I have no time to explain,” I said, pushing past him.

  He caught my arm and whirled me about. “You shall explain. It may be different in Normandy, but here in Toscana, only certain sorts of women scurry about unescorted in the night.”

  I wrenched my arm from his grip and resumed my flight down the stairs, Marcello right behind me. I had no time for this. With trembling hands, I searched for the right key for the door that led to the stables.

  “Nay,” Marcello growled, pulling the keys from me. They clattered to the ground. “You are not leaving!”

  Luca came down the stairs slowly, and glanced back up, as if wondering if our voices would draw a servant.

  But Marcello only continued to stare furiously at me.

  “Marcello, I need to go,” I said urgently. “It is for the best. For you. For me. Please, please let me go.”

  “Where are you going? You’ve only just been introduced to the men who might aid you in your—”

  “Back to Castello Forelli,” I said, feeling as if I might cry. “If your father and brother will have me. Only for a few days, until I figure out where I will go next.”

  He frowned at me in confusion. “Did something frighten you?”

  “Nay,” I said, pacing a bit. He had to stay here—if he showed up, back home, Lord Vannucci might take Lia away, back out of the deal. I looked back up at Marcello and chewed my lip, considering what I could tell him. “I think Lia is back there, near your home. I want to get back. I fear I might miss her, and that we shall never be reunited.”

  “You asked to come here
.”

  “And now that I see she isn’t here, I must move on.”

  He took a deep breath and held it. “We will see you to safety. You can leave when you choose. I only intend that you not come to harm.”

  “You cannot accompany me. What would Lady Romana think? You are betrothed to her, remember?”

  He stepped back, as if my mentioning her name had splashed cold water on his face.

  “I will escort you, then,” Luca said, stepping forward.

  “Nay, nay. I will draw far less attention if I travel alone.”

  “Untrue! Do you not remember what became of you the last time we traveled that road?” Marcello said.

  “Exactly my point. We were part of a train full of soldiers. You are like magnets, pulling your enemy forces in. They will ignore a single rider.”

  “Marcello…” Luca said. He held up a piece of paper.

  The note. It must’ve fallen from my waistband when I disrobed, and Luca had nabbed it from my room. Marcello looked at me out of the corner of his eye and then reached for the paper. He unfolded it and scanned it.

  I closed my eyes, bracing for what was to come.

  “What does it say?” He leaned toward me. “Gabriella, what does it say?”

  “He knows who has my sister,” I translated softly.

  “Who? Who knows?” Marcello said. “Where is she? It was Lord Vannucci, wasn’t it? He was the one who gave you this note.”

  I shook my head, my eyes still closed, and then let out a gasp when he took hold of my shoulders and shook me.

  “Who has her?” he ground out, suspicion making his eyes cold, studying me. “There is only one family that would make you keep her whereabouts a secret.”

  I nodded, looking to the stones at my feet. It was going to look bad, any which way I cut it. “The Paratores,” I whispered. I looked up at him, misery washing through me.

  “What do they want? What is their demand, for you to be reunited with your sister?”

  The quickest way out of a mess is to face the truth, Dad always said.

  I steeled myself and made myself look at him as I said it. “They want Castello Forelli.”

  Marcello released me, almost shoving me in his frustration. He lifted his hands, and they shook with rage as he paced away from me, then clenched them into fists.

  “I wasn’t going to give them what they asked,” I pleaded, stepping toward him. At least, I wasn’t going to totally sell them out. “I was going to figure out a way. Make them think I was giving them access, but allow you to know the truth in time. I could not…I would not…Marcello.”

  He glanced at me, his face a mask of fury. Over and over he shook his head. His eyes moved back and forth as if he was thinking, trying to come to a solution.

  I looked to Luca, hoping he might help me out a little. See what we could not.

  He walked down the remaining steps slowly, gripping the balustrade pillar. “If you think about it, Marcello, it could be quite perfect.”

  His master looked to him as if he might be going crazy.

  Luca held up a hand. “No, think on it a moment. The Paratores believe they finally may have access to the castello. Their intent will be annihilation. All previous treaties will be null and void as soon as their men enter. We would be free to kill every last one of them. Be done with them. Storm their castle and claim it for the Sienese, making our outpost nearly invincible. Consider it, m’lord. We can arrange it all, while here.”

  I shuddered at the thought of men dying.

  But my feelings were clearly the only twenty-first-century ones in the room.

  Marcello ceased his pacing and stood before me. “Can you maintain the charade? Truly, see it all the way through?” His tone was calmer now, as if his fear for me returned. “If the Paratores—or Lord Vannucci—discover that you intend to double-cross them, they will not hesitate to slit your throat. Or your sister’s.” He shook his head. “There will be no second chance, Gabriella.”

  I stared back at him. “It is a great risk. But I am prepared to do anything—anything—to get my sister back. So please, let me be off. They’ll be far more apt to believe I could sneak away from Castello Forelli and to them if you and your men are here in Siena.”

  “But why would they believe that we let you return, alone?”

  “I will say I escaped, in the dark of night, while you all were still at the ball.”

  “We’ve seen firsthand how good she is with a rope,” Luca said.

  “But wouldn’t they expect me to come after you? Or at least send some men?”

  “Not if you want her gone,” Luca said softly. “She is coming between you and Lady Romana. You are unaccountably drawn to each other. And you cannot let anything break this union with the house of Rossi.”

  I held my breath and kept my eyes on Marcello. Luca spoke nothing but the truth. We both knew it.

  “Scorned, her heart broken, Gabriella is willing to sell out the Forellis. Her only goal is to regain her sister and flee,” Luca finished gently.

  Marcello’s eyes were warm again, searching mine. He seemed to struggle to swallow, then he gently took my hands in his. “It is an enormous, grave risk.”

  I let a smile spread across my cheeks. “I’m becoming accustomed to it.”

  He reached up and touched my face, and Luca turned away.

  “Gabriella,” Marcello whispered, shaking his head. “I’ve never known a woman like you. If we had met before—”

  “When? Your betrothal to Romana has been in motion for too long for us to stop it,” I said, turning away. But he held me fast and stared at me until I dared to look back into his eyes.

  “I shall never forget you.”

  “Nor I, you,” I whispered back.

  His handsome face a mask of anguish, he leaned down, closer, as if he intended to kiss me.

  But then we all heard it.

  Luca turned toward the door. Marcello straightened and released me.

  People, laughing, talking, shouting. Returning.

  He grabbed the keys from the ground, swiftly cycled through them, and shoved the right one in the lock. He pushed me through, but grabbed my hand and whispered, “Send me word through Cook. Trust no one else. I shall be nearby in three days. Tell Paratore to attack in four.”

  I nodded, even as he shut the door in my face and turned the lock. I stayed still, feeling foolish for my irritation at him for shutting the door in my face, knowing it was impossible to do anything but that, listening to the men making fumbled excuses, feigning drunkenness as the rest of the household passed. “We were considering a moonlit ride,” Luca said, his words slurred. “But then we thought we might be apt to fall on our backside if we were to attempt it.”

  “Lord Marcello, I am surprised to find you indisposed,” Romana said, when the rest of the footsteps receded. “I didn’t see you imbibe all evening.”

  “I confess it was me and my wretched debauchery,” Luca said. “I drew my lord in, celebrating our victory over those Florentine scoundrels on the road. We quite forgot ourselves.”

  “Quite,” she said icily. “You forgot yourselves so thoroughly you left me behind at the ball. It was…a horror.”

  “Forgive me, beloved,” Marcello said lowly. “It shall never happen again.”

  Nay, I thought. It shall not. I would see to it myself. No more interference with the man’s hopes, his family’s dreams of security. I would free my sister, and we would be away.

  More people came in then, but Marcello and Lady Rossi seemed to hover. I could not bear to break away from my eavesdropping. And until the household turned in for the night, it was not safe for me to ride off down the road anyway. I would run a serious risk of interception.

  “Marcello,” she said lowly, almost too quiet to hear.
“Did you accompany Lady Betarrini home?”

  “She was here when we arrived. A servant told us she was complaining of stomach ailments and had gone to bed.”

  “Poor girl.” But her tone was more of relief than any genuine empathy.

  “Romana, I’ve asked Lady Betarrini to depart before sunup.”

  “Oh? Where is she going?” It sounded as if they had paused halfway up the stairs. I leaned closer, pressing my ear to the crack in the door.

  “To Castello Forelli. She confessed certain…feelings toward me. I made it clear that my heart could only belong to you.”

  I knew he was only taking up the story we had agreed on, soothing her fears, just as I wanted him to do, but it still stung, hearing him say it.

  It was quiet then. Were they kissing? Or had they just moved too far away for me to hear any more?

  I sighed sadly. Well, that was over before it even got started. Gabi’s stellar love life resumes its amazing run!

  I was dragging a crate over to my horse, preparing to mount, when Luca showed up, dressed to ride. “What are you doing?” I said. “I thought we agreed it best that I go alone.”

  “You thought it best. Lord Marcello and I thought it foolish.” He put a hand up, palm facing me. “With just the two of us, we’ll still not be as likely to draw attention. And if stopped, we can claim to be man and wife, traveling through the night.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Gabriella, they won’t let you out the city gates without me. And Marcello has charged me with the task of devising the battle plan with you.”

  I hadn’t thought of the city gates. “Well then, be quick about it,” I said in irritation, knowing he had me.

  He grinned and helped me mount. “Do you have your sword?”

  I patted my shoulder strap. I preferred the back sheath to the one on the saddle and had found a couple of them here, on a peg. It gave me faster access and was reasonably hidden.

  He had his horse saddled in quick order and led the gelding to the front of the stables, eased opened the double doors, peeked out, and waited for me to come through too. Then he closed them behind me, and we were off.