“Vinegar,” I said to the maid in the corner. “See how much you can find and bring it here, to this room.”
I turned to a knight. “Hot water and rags. We’ll need a lot of it.”
There was little we could do for Luca, other than try to make him as comfortable as possible. But my mind was turning to the rest of us. And vinegar and hot water—the only means we really had toward cleaning up the germ-coated room around us—was as good as we were going to get.
Luca stayed out-there, not-with-us, and I was relieved. Every minute he was in la-la land was a minute he wasn’t in misery. Five guys arrived, heavy jugs of vinegar in their arms. “They are heating water in the kitchen, m’lady.”
I nodded. “Is that all of it?” I asked, gesturing toward the jugs.
“There are six more in the kitchen.”
“Good,” I said. I turned to Marcello. “Might you assemble our people, m’lord?”
He ducked his head and called out to everyone to gather. I met them in the main hall.
When they were close, I said, “I do not know how to treat the plague any more than you do, but in Normandy, our doctors maintain that it is passed in several ways—fleas, coughing, and touch.” I glanced back at Marcello, who offered me a tentative smile. “It is likely that we all already carry the disease. Please…” I looked each of them in the eye. “If you are feeling symptoms—fever, headache, the runs, the sweats—you must not hide it.”
“Has anyone felt any of those symptoms?” Marcello asked.
No one had. Or at least, no one admitted to it. I sighed and assigned another round of baths and our clothes to the fire pit. “There is clothing in the wardrobes and chests of the people who live here.” After we were washed, we’d scrub down the main hall.
“I will go to the chapel,” the maid said to me, referring to a tiny grotto in the corner of the mansion’s courtyard. “I will pray to God that He will have mercy on us all.”
She looked to me for, what? Confirmation that that was a good call? I knew for a fact that in a few years, God would stand by watching while a third of Siena’s population died. Would He be looking out for Luca and us now?
I had no idea. I hoped He would.
The maid’s lips clamped shut as she read the fear in my eyes. She wiped her cheeks and nose with the back of her hand. “God will not abandon that knight or us. Mark my words. We shall not be abandoned.”
Lia, freshly scrubbed, came near, a pile of clothes in her arms, and looked over her shoulder at the departing maid. “Making more friends, I see.”
“Whatever.”
“I found a couple of gowns for us to wear,” she said, handing me one. “Yours will be short, but at least it’s clean.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Do you feel all right?” she asked, all concerned.
“Fine, fine. Just depressed. I wasn’t cut out to be a nurse. I’m no good at it.”
She squeezed my hand. “Neither was I,” she said. “But at least we’re together. We’ll get through it, Gabi. Somehow. And Luca…” She numbly gazed toward his shut door. “Gabi, do you think he’ll make it?”
“I hope so, Lia. I hope so.”
“M’lady?” said a knight, ducking out of Luca’s room. The men were determined to be by his side, in turns, regardless of how I pleaded with them to steer clear. “Come. He’s lucid.”
CHAPTER 12
Lia reached him first, three strides ahead of me and Marcello.
Luca was shaking off the hands of the other knights, evidently having just fought to regain his feet.
“Luca, lie down,” I said.
Lia reached up and touched his cheek, then drew back as if she’d been scalded. Worried, she looked my way. “Still burning up.”
“Nonsense. I’m well enough. But I still might need a pretty, blue-eyed nurse to tend me, day and night, to make certain I stay that way.” He smiled over at Lia.
His smile quickly faded as his legs folded beneath him. Luckily, the knights were close enough to catch him and gently help him to the bed.
He was trembling, giving in to the fever’s tremors again. We pulled a blanket across him.
“Surely we can do something for him,” Marcello said.
“Please, Gabi,” Lia said, looking down at Luca. “Tell us.”
I widened my eyes in her direction, totally exasperated. She knew as much as I did! But her helpless, desperate look made me act. “Hot, clear, broth,” I muttered. Was it feed a cold, starve a fever? Or feed a fever, starve a cold? I couldn’t remember. Or if it even applied to plague. I just wanted to try something. “More clean water, cold and hot. Rags, vinegar.”
Marcello nodded once and rose to repeat the requests to those outside.
“Yes, a sponge bath,” Luca teased, a smile on his lips even as he winced and panted for breath against some unseen pain. “I simply cannot tend myself. I need you ladies to assist.”
“In his dreams,” Lia said in English, rolling her eyes at me.
In minutes, servants returned, with two knights behind them, carrying water and vinegar and rags.
Lia poured some cold water into a basin, dunked a rag into it, and carried it over to a small table beside the bed. She sat on the edge, wrung out the cloth, and placed it on Luca’s forehead. He was trembling, but he caught her hand and held it a moment. “Mayhap you and your sister should be as far from this room as possible,” he said.
“Nay,” she said. “We are likely as infected as you. The disease is spread through fleas, but also coughing. Blood. Touch.”
He hastily released her hand. “But you show no signs of it?”
“It is because of our superior strength,” Lia teased. “You pretend to be a mighty knight. But it takes an enemy smaller than a speck to take you down.”
Luca grinned, but he let his eyes close as if the irises themselves burned with the fever.
She wrung out the cloth again and put it back on his head. Then, as his breathing became more even, as if he was giving into sleep or unconsciousness, she added vinegar to the water and washed his hands and forearms and then, carefully, the swollen nodes beneath his armpits.
“In some cultures, vinegar is considered an aphrodisiac,” he said suddenly, still with his eyes closed.
“In my culture,” Lia returned, “it’s the smell of old, fat ladies laboring to clean foul places.”
Luca chuckled, and then trembled so hard the whole bed shook.
“Shush now,” Marcello said sternly. “Save your strength, cousin, to fight this battle within you.”
A knight returned to the door. “Sir Marcello, may I have a word?”
“Certainly,” he said, moving from his sentry position beside Luca. He squeezed my shoulder and gave Lia an encouraging smile. “I’ll return shortly. Watch over my cousin. He could ask for no better nurses than you two.”
“Not sure about that,” I muttered to Lia in English, as he disappeared.
“Yeah, if only I could drop back home and find out what to do. For sure, you know?” She folded her arms in front of her.
“I know,” I said. I gave her a close-lipped smile, then said, “He’s strong, Lia. Inside and out. If anyone can fight this off, it’s Luca. Right?”
She nodded, but I could see the fear in her eyes. She cared for him. Really cared. It made my heart skip a beat.
What if she watched him die?
A massive creaking sound outside made me move to the window—not glass, but rather nine panes of thinly sliced, almost transparent, ivory stone. I unhinged the lock, and the entire thing swung inward.
From here, I could just see the front gate. Marcello was standing in front of it as his men opened both sides. “What is he doing?” I muttered. Did he not fully get what a quarantine should be like?
I lifted a hand to the wall and my other hand to my mouth. Beyond the patrol, a contingent of Sienese seemed to be on the move, with great clouds of dust rising in the sky. What was happening? Weren’t our reinforcements due about now?
Marcello abruptly turned, the gates were shut, and with a few hand motions, he had knights on the run.
Whatever it was, it was bad.
I glanced to Lia. Luca’s eyes blinked open. “Stay with him,” I muttered. “I’ll be right back.”
Marcello met me outside, took my hand, and led me back into the main room. It registered then, in my cloudy brain. The knights were arming themselves, taking stock of the meager weaponry available in the cabinets beside the front door.
“Gabriella,” Marcello said, pulling me into a private corner. “Firenze is on the attack. They’ve cut off the reinforcements. They march on us now.”
“Firenze?” I asked blankly. “But Lord Greco, he knows we have plague among us. He wouldn’t…he was—”
“His intent must be to kill us, claim victory from afar, while containing the illness. But there is more. Gabriella,” he said, taking my hands in his, “they very nearly captured your mother.”
“My mother?” I frowned, trying to make sense of what he was saying. I shook my head. “Nay, she is back at the castello. Safe. She would never have—”
“She insisted. Threatened to go without the men if they did not bring her here. She was coming.… Gabriella, she told my men she wanted to come and take her daughters to safety.”
The tombs. She had intended to get to us and escape. Return home. “But she is all right? She made it back to the castello?”
“I do not know. The men that came here split from a group of twelve others who were to see her back to safety. We’ll know soon enough. If we can survive the night ourselves.”
He ran a hand through his hair in agitation, then leaned closer to my ear. “They intend to destroy this mansion, and all within it. Burn us out or to cinders. More men from Siena will ride to our defense, of course, but even if they get here in time, we are about to be at the center of a long and difficult battle.”
I took a deep breath and stood straighter. “They will find we are not easily vanquished.”
“Nay,” he said soberly. He cradled my cheek in his hand. “They shall not find you at all.”
CHAPTER 13
“What?”
“You, your sister, shall exit here,” he said, nodding to the corner behind me. I turned and then edged away. He pulled on a wall sconce—a holder for two candles—and it tilted outward. I heard the dull sound of a metal latch unhooking, and a door opening behind a moth-eaten tapestry in front of me.
Dude. This is SO Nancy Drew. And Harry Potter. Nancy Potter.
I pulled aside the cloth and glanced from the small door in the wall beyond it, back to Marcello. “A hidden passageway?”
Marcello nodded. “Luca and I found it when we were just boys. ’Tis a tunnel that runs a mile north. It emerges in a cave by the river. Unfortunately, it comes out in a wood on Firenze’s side of the border.”
“Great,” I muttered.
He gave me a rueful smile and a small shrug. “At least we have an option for escape. If they manage to attack the manor, they would not expect you to flee into their own territory.”
“But what if they know about the tunnel? What if they’re lying in wait?”
“They do not know of it. I’m certain of it. My grandparents disguised the exit more carefully after they found out we had discovered it. Had our enemies found it, they would have used it to attack the manor long ago. Nay, they do not know. Besides, they will be hunting us on the Sienese side, where I will be leading them, making it look as if we are fleeing.”
My eyes met his. “I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for me.”
He smiled and rubbed my lower lip with his thumb, then leaned in to kiss me—slowly, softly—then lifted his head and stared into my eyes. “I did not say I would sacrifice myself, Gabriella. Only lead them astray.”
“Nay,” I insisted, pushing him a step away, refusing to be swayed by his charms. “It is still far too dangerous. We shall remain together.”
He shook his head and looked to the main room, where the men conferred, then back to me. “We shall be far more identifiable together. We must part for a time, beloved, until we can again be safe at the castello, or in Siena herself. And with the illness among us…I cannot see you to safety. We must separate.”
I sighed, knowing he was right.
He touched my chin with his finger. “You must hide in the wood, until you’re certain you or your sister do not carry this plague. Then travel by moonlight, back to our land. I shall meet you at the castello in ten days’ time.”
I shook my head, not liking his plan. Yet I could not find a way to stop it, argue against it. And what of my mother? How was I to find her, make sure she was okay, if I was hiding somewhere deep within Firenze?
“You must depart now. As soon as you gather supplies, you must be off. Even now, the woods to the north gather with those faithful to Firenze. The longer you tarry, the more resistance you are apt to encounter.”
“But they fear the plague,” I said weakly.
“Lord Greco feared the plague. He has much to live for.” He looked away, as if lost in thought. “But there are many peasants and even knights who are willing to sacrifice themselves. Lord Greco and his fellow noblemen have likely placed a price on our heads that would be a fortune to a hundred families. In this case, the reward is not only glory for a man’s lord—it is also gold for his own pockets.”
Kamikazes, I thought. The Japanese fighter pilots who sacrificed themselves during World War II, flying into battleships, with the intent of bringing the great carriers down.
I didn’t know what to do with that kind of insane loyalty. Had I felt that kind of dedication…ever?
Only to family.
And to Marcello. My eyes met his. “Please—” I whispered, as his lips covered mine for a moment. “Please come with me,” I continued, when he released me.
He faltered. Sensing that he was thinking twice about it, I pressed. “Please, Marcello. Your plan is good in that it gives us an opportunity to get farther away. But without you, without Luca, if we encounter the enemy, what shall become of us?”
A slow smile softened his features. “The She-Wolves of Siena? Woe to the man who encounters them and stands in their way.”
“Indeed,” I said with a small grin. “But I admit that even the She-Wolves of Siena do best with the He-Wolves of Siena beside them.” Memories of our last battle against Lord Greco flooded through my mind. I shivered, and he pulled me back into his arms, resting his chin on top of my head as he stroked my hair.
He moved to kiss my forehead, my eyes, my cheeks, my lips for several long, searching moments. Right then, I wished we could stay together. Forever. Get married, if that was what it took. I just knew I couldn’t stand to be torn from him again, that I wanted more time to be together. To walk, hand in hand, to talk, just talk, for hours. And to kiss. Kiss like this—
He abruptly released me. I stood there for a second, dazed, coming down from the temporary high. He shut the trapdoor, set the sconce to rights, and motioned for me to follow him upstairs. I trailed behind him, reluctant, still trying to think of an option other than his terrible plan, when we heard a shout from the wall.
Marcello groaned and grabbed my hand.
Lia met us at the door. “What is happening?”
“Attack,” Marcello responded. He lifted Luca’s sword, by the door, and carried it over to him. The man struggled to rise and sat there, his upper body
propped on one elbow.
He grabbed hold of the sheath and pulled it closer, staring at Marcello. “Battle upon us?”
“More like a war, my friend. Firenze knows we’re here, and Siena is racing to our aid. It shall be fierce.”
Luca sighed and threw off the covers and let his legs swing to the ground.
“Nay!” Lia cried, moving toward him. “You must stay—”
Marcello grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. “Lia. You shall go with your sister. Now.”
She wrenched her arm from his hand and stared back up at him, as furiously defiant as he was insistent. “I am not going anywhere without Luca.”
Behind her, Luca chuckled.
“You are of no assistance,” Marcello complained to him, still staring at Lia like she was a rattlesnake poised to strike.
“Forgive me, m’lord,” he said. “We happen to be in love with two of the most stubborn women in all of Siena.”
We all stilled. Even Marcello glanced at him. Love? Luca and Lia—in love?
“It’s his fever talking,” Lia said, brushing it off. “But still, I shall not abandon my friend, ill as he is, to face off an attack.”
Your “friend.” Right. Got it.
She moved over to the bed, grabbed his boots, and helped him slip them on, taking care to not look in our direction. When he rose, she was again by his side, helping to steady him, even though he probably outweighed her by forty pounds. “We go, Marcello,” she said. “But we shall go together.”
Her tenacity gave me strength too. “Si, Marcello, adiamo insieme. Let us make this journey together. I cannot bear to be parted from you again.”
He sighed in exasperation and ran a hand through his hair, eyeballing all three of us. “Very well. But remember this moment,” he said, shaking a finger in our direction. “This is your plan, not mine.”
“And if it proves to be successful?” I asked, teasing him.
He relented and smiled. “Then, of course, it was my plan all along.”
We left the room and hurried down to the tunnel entrance.
The River of Time Series Page 42
