by Gian Bordin
The sun was ready to dip behind Monte Capanne when she reached the open plateau where the path she had followed along the spur down from Monte Strega leveled out. The animals she had seen grazing earlier must have moved on. She planned to hide in the underbrush of the trees and wait until dusk was creeping up from the valley below before continuing. As she searched for a comfortable spot from where she could see Nisporto without being seen, the pounding of hooves alerted her to the approach of riders. She cowered behind a bush and saw two riders tear down the track she had just left a few minutes earlier. Niccolo’s men, she wondered? And then she heard the screams of a woman and the shouts of men.
Without a conscious decision, she grabbed her bow and two arrows and ran toward the screams. Maybe fifty paces farther down, two men were holding a woman to the ground. She was struggling and screaming at the same time, her skirt half thrown over her face. While one held her arms, the other forced open her legs.
"Hold still, you bitch!" shouted the one holding her arms, slapping her face with his right.
Both were so intent on what they were doing that they did not see Chiara approach. When she was about fifteen paces away, she skidded to a halt, aimed and let fly. The arrow hit the man’s back, just as he was opening his cod piece. He fell forward with a hoarse grunt. By then Chiara had her second arrow ready. The other let go of the girl and jumped to the side. Chiara tracked him and when he hit the ground, her arrow shot away, embedding itself in the man’s bottom. He cried out and tried to get up, but faced Chiara’s knives. In the meantime, the girl, still screaming, had freed herself from Chiara’s first victim and was about to flee.
"Girl, don’t run," shouted Chiara, "I need your help."
She did not disguise her voice, and the girl turned while still retreating, looking at her confused.
"Yes, girl, I am a woman. Please, come to me. These two won’t hurt you again."
Her revelation must have encouraged her second victim. He now rose, while at the same time twisting out the arrow, and shouted: "I’ll show you, you bitch!"
She had not let him out of her sight and when he jumped, intent on bringing her down, she feigned moving to the right, and, as he adjusted his jump, she moved to the left, while the knife in her right sliced his throat. The girl’s renewed screams tore through the air. He crashed on his face, jets of blood spluttering out of his artery with every beat of his heart, slowly growing weaker.
The girl started running once more.
"Wait! Come back! You have to help me," Chiara shouted again, but the girl kept fleeing.
A quick glance told her that both men were dead. Without a moment’s hesitation, she mounted the nearest horse and raced after the girl. She overtook her just before she reached the forest.
"Please, listen, I need your help. I won’t harm you. I am a young woman like you. You have to bring a message to Luca Gianluca."
That name seemed to bring the girl to her senses. She stopped looking around for a way to escape like a frightened animal. Chiara jumped off the horse and approached her, ready to grab her should she attempt to run away again. But she did not move, and Chiara took her into her arms, stroking her hair, murmuring: "My poor frightened little thing. You’re safe now."
The girl’s tense body relaxed and sobs welled up from deep in her chest. After a while, she raised her head and murmured: "Thank you, Signorina."
"It’s all right. Were they Sanguanero’s men?" Chiara asked, letting go.
The girl nodded.
That could mean trouble."What’s your name?" she asked.
"Angela Gianluca, Signorina."
"Is Luca Gianluca your father?"
She nodded.
"Good … Angela, what I tell you now is very important. The lives of many people may depend on it. I want you to go down to Nisporto to your father. Don’t tell him or anybody what happened up here. Simply tell him that there has been an accident, that Chiara da Narni needs him up here right away, that he is not to tell anybody, nor where he is going. And make sure that nobody else can hear you. And if anybody else asks you, you are not to say a word nor tell my name, not even to your mother. If she insists, tell her that your father has forbidden you to speak. This is very important. Your own life could be at risk if anybody else gets to know about it. You understand?"
The girl nodded.
"So, repeat to me what you have to tell your father."
"That there’s been an accident, that you need him right away —"
"— who needs him?"
"That Chiara da Narni needs him — are you the daughter of Seignior da Narni?"
"Yes."
The girl raised both hands to her mouth, looking at her with big eyes.
"Go on."
"That Chiara da Narni needs him up here right away, that he isn’t to tell anybody."
"Not where he is going, nor whom he will meet. And what are you to do yourself?"
"I’m not to tell anybody what happened here, nor anything that I told my father, not even to my mother."
Chiara smiled. "That’s right. There will come a time when you can tell everything, but not now. Maybe a week or two from now. All right, my sweet girl? And if you see me in my disguise when we’re not alone, call me padre, please … Go now. Wipe your tears before you see anybody."
"But what about my goats? My father’ll chide me if they scatter."
"He won’t, and I’ll keep an eye on them."
The girl tried a clumsy curtsey and then ran off down a steep path. Chiara mounted the horse again and rode up to where she had dropped her things, collected them and then looked for the goats. She found them a short distance above the two corpses, about two dozen of them, nibbling on stunted bushes at the edge of the open area, seemingly content as if the peace of this plateau had never been disturbed. And she had just killed two men. She searched for an emotion, for a sign of remorse. There was none, just disgust.
The light was failing rapidly. A single star could be seen to the west, and then like candles being lit, more and more stars filled the sky. The milky way formed a broad, jagged band across the sky. She wondered what it was. Whether it was just more stars, in fact so many and so small that their lights fused into a dim band.
* * *
It must have been almost an hour since the girl had left. Chiara started to wonder if Gianluca would come or not. If he did not come soon, she would have to get rid of the two bodies alone, and both looked like being heavy men. Finally, she saw movement at the edge of the forest. She remembered Gianluca often whistled a particular tune that escaped her right at that moment. She already opened her mouth to call his attention when it came back and she whistled the first few bars, repeating them. His response came almost immediately. She answered once more. A minute or so later, he stood in front of her.
"Ser Luca?"
"Lady Chiara? You remembered my whistle."
"Yes."
"Have you come back? But your land is now in the hands of the butcher Sanguanero."
"Yes, I have come back, and a tribunal in Piombino has just awarded ownership of the land back to me, but I’ll explain all that later on. Right now, we’ve another problem. What has your daughter told you?"
"Only that there has been an accident up here."
"She’s a good girl, particularly after what she just went through."
"What happened, Lady Chiara?"
"I was waiting up here until dusk to come down to Nisporto to talk to you. I’m disguised as a young priest. Then two riders came down from Monte Strega and I heard the cries of a girl. I ran to investigate. Two men were trying to rape your daughter. I killed them both. And now —"
"They raped Angela? Oh, these Sanguanero swine."
"They didn’t rape her. I killed them before they could. Angela was still fighting them off. Since they’re Sanguanero men, we must get them far away from here, so that no suspicion falls on you people —"
"Yes, they’d butcher a few. They killed several who tried to revolt."
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"We can take them over the mountain and leave them somewhere on the road from Rio nell’Elba to Rio Marina."
"I can call some men from Nisporto."
"No, I don’t want anybody to know what happened up here for two reasons. First, if any villagers are tortured, they’ll confess, but they can’t confess to something they know nothing about. Second, I don’t want it to be known that I’m here. Sanguanero has threatened to burn down Castello Nisporto if I try to recapture it."
"Recapture it? How? With all due respect, Lady Chiara, you’re just a girl."
That openness, that was what she had always liked about the man. "Luca, believe me, if I say I will recapture Nisporto, I will. Right now we must get the bodies of the two men over to the other side. Come. They’re down there. We can use their horses to carry them."
They walked the few steps to the two corpses. Luca bent down to see better.
"You cut his throat?"
"Yes."
"But how? You’re a woman."
"Luca, no more doubts. If I say I did, I did. The proof is right in front of your eyes. Believe them. Now, help me lift this one on a horse."
"Lady Chiara, please forgive me for doubting you. The last time I saw you, you were hardly older than my youngest daughter."
Chiara had already pulled the arrow from the back of her first victim and was lifting his torso. Luca quickly lifted the other side and they hoisted him over the saddle.
"Tie him to the horse with his belt," she ordered while she cleaned the tip of the arrow on the grass and did the same with the other arrow and put them back into her quiver.
They repeated the same operation with the other corpse. He was the heavier of the two. Chiara attached her bag to the saddle, but strapped her bow and quiver of six arrows to her back.
"Will your goats be all right?"
"Yes, we may have to search for some tomorrow."
"Luca, I promised Angela that you will not scold her."
"Oh, I won’t, the poor girl, getting such a fright, and I haven’t even thanked you yet."
"That’s all right, Luca, could we take one of the goats along?"
"Yes, but why?"
"I would like to leave the impression that the two fellows were killed on the road down to Rio Marina, and for that I need fresh blood, as if it came from them."
He first looked perplexed, then nodded and got hold of the closest goat, a young buck. After tying his cap over the loudly protesting animal’s eyes and binding its legs, he laid it over the saddle. It soon became quiet.
When he was finished, Chiara said: "Luca, lead the way."
They reached the ridge leading up to Monte Strega as the moon was rising over the mountain range on the mainland. They stopped briefly, each one curiously inspecting the other. She had her head and hair free and smiled at him.
"Lady Chiara, you look like your mother."
"Yes, I have been told that. And you’re getting gray, Luca, but Tomaso Tomasini already told me. Is he your cousin?"
"A very distant cousin. Did he bring you over?"
"Yes, he did and in the middle of the straits tried to rob me. He will be nursing a cut on his right hand for a while."
"How shameful! Did he hurt you?"
"Do I look like having been hurt?"
"Forgive me, Lady Chiara. I forget that you are no longer a young girl —"
"You mean, not a helpless woman."
"Yes, Lady Chiara." He lowered his gaze.
"Luca, it’s all right. I’ve used that wrong impression to my advantage many times. Your cousin is an exception. He saw me as a helpless young priest."
"He always was an odd one."
"He certainly is. When he talks, it’s more like grunting. Now. Luca, we have to avoid going too close to Rio nell’Elba with our load."
"How far down do you want to dump them?"
"Maybe halfway."
"It would be best to continue east for a while and then cut across the slopes there, down to the road."
He led the way. Half an hour later they were by the road. They stopped at a bend. Chiara placed the bodies on the packed earth so that it looked as if they had fallen there in a fight. She disturbed the ground around them. When Luca wanted to tie the cod piece of her first victim, she said: "No, leave it open. That will show why they were killed."
"Then we should cut off his penis."
"Oh Luca, how grisly!" she cried, but he had already done it before she could stop him.
Using the same knife, he cut the goat’s throat and let the blood run where she told him. She felt sorry for the poor animal and disgusted by her handiwork.
"What do we do with their horses?" asked Luca.
"We’ll ride them back, provided you have a place where they can be safely hidden from Sanguanero’s men. It might be useful if I had ready access to one."
"There is an abandoned quarry near Nisporto. It even has some grass. They can be hidden there."
He tied the carcass of the bled animal to the saddle of one, and then they rode back the way they had come, making sure that no tracks were visible from the road.
Riding side by side, Chiara gave Luca a very succinct summary of parts of what had happened to her after she fled Elba, ending with Sanguanero’s attempt to kill her and the outcome of the tribunal. Then, she questioned him about Sanguanero’s men.
"How many people are usually in the castle?"
"Sanguanero’s steward, with eight armed men, I think four maids, a cook, and four stable hands. When Sanguanero is there, he usually brings another six to ten sailors with him."
"And I presume, he is there right now."
"Yes, he arrived about a week ago on the Santa Caterina. She is anchored in the bay of Sant’Anna."
Mercurio had informed her that the boat had a normal crew of about twenty-four sailors plus the captain and first mate. This left between fourteen and eighteen sailors on the Santa Caterina. She briefly wondered how that boat could be taken.
"I presume that nobody from the castle ever rides out alone."
"No, his men usually ride out in pairs and often in fours, and Sanguanero usually has a group of eight to ten with him."
"Yes, he is a coward."
They had reached the spur above Nisporto.
"Luca, I need a place to stay, preferably hidden from everybody, including the tenants, at least until I have scouted out how to take the castle and the Santa Caterina."
"But Lady Chiara, how can you? There are more than thirty armed men."
"With stealth and cunning, your help, the help of other tenants that you trust. I will know in a day or two."
He shook his head, his doubts even revealed by the dim light of the moon.
"Rest easy, Luca. We will only act once I have a plan that covers all contingencies… So where can I stay, hopefully within easy reach of the quarry if I need a horse quickly?"
He pondered this a bit. "Simone’s hut — do you remember the old man who lived at the end of this spur? His hut has been empty since the plague."
"Yes, I remember, nicely isolated. Would it be safe to keep one of the horses there?"
"I think so."
"Good."
Luca led the way. He even found an old tinderbox and helped her make a small fire in the stone hearth.
"Luca, would you be willing to give me a leg of your goat. I feel ravenous."
"Lady Chiara, you may keep the whole goat."
"No, I only want one leg. You take the rest along. It will back up your claim that there was an accident … with the animals. I’ll try to see you tomorrow evening again. Stick around your house. If you hear the call of an owl, repeated three times like this," she imitated the sound, "then come and meet me in the forest above your house."
* * *
In spite of the lateness, Chiara cut the goat leg into strips and roasted them over the fire. She found an old copper pot and heated a bit of water, which she used to water down her wine, drinking it slowly while she waited for the m
eat to cook.
She felt grubby and dirty, not so much from lack of washing, but from the events since leaving the coast. Seeing the pot next to the fire, she filled it with water. When she had stilled her hunger, she undressed and washed herself with the warm water, using her soap sparingly. The sense of cleanliness even lifted her spirits. Tomorrow she would scout out the area of the castle and the bay where the Santa Caterina was anchored. Before lying down on the horse blanket that she had folded on the hard bed planks, she stacked more wood on the fire and then checked on the horse outside. As expected, it was feeding on the grasses. She patted its neck and spoke softly to it, hoping it would not stray too far. She left the top and bottom parts of the door to the one-room hut open, just in case it might want to go under cover after feeding.
It was light when she woke. Her first action was to go outside and look for the horse. It was again grazing, but she vaguely remembered that sometimes during the night it had actually come inside. She wondered what to do about it. Maybe keeping it with her had not been such a smart idea. It might wander off, even find its way back to the castle. Could she lock it into the house or tie it up outside? She could at least do one thing — render it less recognizable, trim its mane, only leaving a crest, and also cut its bushy tail. She quickly did it, using one of her sharp knives. Rather than cut the hair of the tail, she shortened and thinned it, to make it looked natural. As an afterthought, she also thinned out most of the white hair of its forelock. Then she pried away all decorations of the saddle, smoothing out any holes left as best as possible, and roughed up the surfaces. When she was through, the saddle looked old and beaten.
After a quick meal of the leftover goat meat, she was on her way, back up to Monte Strega and on to Volterraio. She dismounted and went to the cliff’s edge to get a view over her land. The Santa Caterina was anchored in the middle of the small bay at Sant’Anna. A group of riders was assembling outside the entrance to Castello Nisporto. She decided to wait and see where they were headed. About a quarter hour later, they left and shortly afterward she saw them coming up the steep path that led directly to Rio nell’Elba. Checking on the two missing men? she questioned.