Fruit of the Golden Vine

by Sophia French

  The sisters followed Rafael, treading with care to avoid losing their toes. Rafael stopped them at a stall with a slouched purple awning. A series of glistening pastries lay arranged on its table. A fat, flour-fingered man loitered behind them, his eyes alight with covetousness.

  “Cinnamon.” Rafael inhaled the air. “Yes, we’ve tracked you down, you rascal.”

  Irena giggled. “Let’s buy a bun each, Adelina. And another for our little sister.”

  “We have a little sister?” Adelina wrinkled her forehead. “I don’t recall any little sister. Do you mean that hobgoblin that sneaks into our room and steals our hairpins?”

  “Yes, the same.” Irena’s shoulders shook beneath a second wave of giggles. “If we feed it, it may leave us alone. Rafael! Will you tell this man we’ll take three sticky cinnamon buns?”

  “Certainly.” Rafael tipped his hat to the baker, who inclined his head in the barest suggestion of respect. “Three buns, dear friend, for my lady and her sister fair.” He took out a gleaming handful of money, and the baker’s eyes matched the shine of the coins as he selected three of the largest buns.

  The buns wrapped and placed in Irena’s woven bag, the trio pursued the sound of distant music—a piper, a fiddle and the incessant strumming of a mandolin. A circle had formed around the troubadours, and Rafael pushed a way through. Irena and Adelina emerged into the front row and stood, both enrapt, as the musicians performed a ballad. The fiddler was the most remarkable of the three, capering, singing and fiddling all at once, his feet a blur of motion.

  “Oh, let me sing of lovely things!

  Of pretty maids and handsome kings,

  Of sapphire crowns and diamond rings,

  Of everything that creeps and stings…

  No, wait. That’s not right.

  Oh, let me sing of lovely stuff!

  Of a pleasant pinch of snuff,

  Of a pillow filled with fluff,

  Of a spider on my cuff…

  No, that’s not right at all.”

  Irena laughed at the clowning while Rafael tapped his foot to the beat. Adelina, however, soon held back tears. It was so fitting, these buffoons performing the ideal tribute to her perfectly stupid day.

  She twisted away from Irena’s arm and stormed through the marketplace, not bothering to turn at Irena’s cry of alarm. Townsfolk moved to allow her passage. If only they wouldn’t, so that she’d have an excuse to push them over…Damn everything. She’d hang herself. She’d drown herself. She’d put herself in the wine press.

  A hand clutched her dress. She gasped and hurried faster. Two men approached her, their mouths forming words unheard, and she lowered her head and scurried on. Dizziness took her. She turned in a full circle. Her stomach clenched. She was lost, hopelessly lost. Hostile faces surged past. Voices and cries clamored with sinister intent.

  Yet despite her mortal fear, she wouldn’t weep. She wouldn’t give this cursed ground the satisfaction of being watered.

  Adelina ducked into the shade of a large tent. Metal trinkets hung from posts and sat in orderly lines on the merchant’s table. A huge figure stirred in the tent’s recesses.

  “I’m lost,” Adelina said. “How do I get back to the musicians?”

  “Follow the music, girl.” The man lumbered forward. He was immense, a trunk of muscle that ran directly into a shaven head, and his eyes were colder than the tin toys around him. “Are you stupid?”

  “I’m not stupid, I’m lost…”

  “Fled from a brothel, have you?” The man sniggered and stared at Adelina’s bodice. “Pity for them.”

  Adelina whirled and fled, her heart slamming against her chest. What was she to do? She’d never find the others again. She’d still be lost when night came and brought with it the kind of monsters she’d only read about. A rising tremor pressed against her lungs. At any moment she’d start shouting, even weeping aloud, heedless of the stares of the people around her. Shame and fear boiled inside her, competing to see which could melt her down first.

  A hand touched her shoulder, and she screamed.

  “Have no fear,” said Silvana. “It’s me.”

  Adelina stared agape. Silvana had dressed for the town, and had gone a step further than her brother; in addition to a broad-brimmed hat, a gold-stitched tunic and a loose pair of pants, she had donned a loose, dark green cape fastened at the throat with a silver broach. Combined with her stern beauty, the ornate design gleaming on her cheek and the dark passion of her eyes, the outfit elevated Silvana from merely gorgeous to sublime.

  “You.” Adelina’s lips trembled, and her insides tangled together. “What do you want?”

  “I read your poem.”

  A fierce heat swept across Adelina’s skin. “I wouldn’t have written it if I knew…”

  “Nobody has ever courted me that way before.” Silvana stroked Adelina’s cheek. “And I don’t want you to stop.” Her fingers lingered beside Adelina’s lips. “But nobody must know, do you understand? Not your father, not your sister. Court me in darkness, sweet Adelina, with only the moon as our witness.”

  “I will.” Adelina gripped Silvana’s hand and kissed her fingertips. “I’ll prove my love to you, day after day, until you can no longer resist me, and we’ll elope to whichever land our hearts take us.”

  Silvana sighed through lips barely parted, and a wild thrill capered through Adelina. Her fears had been for nothing; her ardent arrow had hit its mark. Tears welled behind her eyes, elation and relief arriving together in triumph.

  “Let’s find my brother,” said Silvana. “And something cool to drink. This cape is stifling.”

  Adelina laughed. “Then why did you wear it?”

  “For reasons of romance, of course.” Silvana swished the cape, nearly knocking over a passerby. “Something I suspect we’ve both had too little of.”

  “You must have been loved before.”

  “Not like this.” Silvana shifted to allow a group of men to walk by. “Let’s start moving before somebody forcibly lifts us out of their way.”

  With Silvana at her side, Adelina’s previous fear of the crowd seemed absurd. This was only a little marketplace, after all, not some monstrous labyrinth. After only a short distance, she caught the shrill tone of a pipe and urged Silvana to follow it.

  Finally a voice rose above the din, calling her name. Irena, bless her beautiful heart. “Ada!” Irena dashed to Adelina and crushed her in an embrace. “Oh, my God. I was so worried.”

  “Did you just blaspheme, Ira?”

  “Oh, damn!” Irena’s eyes widened. “Oh, I mean…” She giggled. “It’s forgiven, surely, when I’m in such distress. Rafael went hunting for you, and told me to wait near the musicians. I’m sure he won’t be…oh…”

  Silvana stepped from the crowd, which parted before her as if recognizing a divine presence. “Good morning, Irena.”

  “Oh, my.” Irena covered her mouth. “You look simply…I don’t even have a word for it. I’ve never seen a woman look that way. I might not even know you were a woman save from your features.”

  “That’s because you’re used to women wearing dresses,” said Adelina. “She looks very much a woman to me. And a beautiful one at that, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes, most beautiful.” Irena lowered her voice. “Ada, I thought she wasn’t coming.”

  “Silvie!” Rafael’s voice boomed above the noise of the market. “I’d recognize that cloak a mile off. What the hell are you doing here?”

  Irena flinched—the blasphemy, no doubt. Adelina considered Rafael’s narrowed eyes and the tension in his jaw. He suspected Silvana’s intentions, then, and he was furious. A passion that could cleave sister from sister, sister from brother…Adelina shivered despite the heat.

  “I decided it was too good a day to stay indoors.” Silvana straightened her hat and smiled at Rafael, who only glared in return. “I elected to visit the marketplace, and by chance I ran into Adelina. She had mislaid you.”

 
“Well, what a coincidence. I suppose we’ll all be enjoying a day out together after all.”

  “I suppose we will.” Silvana put her hands on her hips, and they stared at one another as intently as if some message were being passed between them. Finally Rafael averted his eyes.

  “Well, while I was roaming, I found a stall selling cider,” he said. “Shall we?”

  “Yes!” Irena clasped her hands. “All Father lets us drink is wine!”

  Adelina put an arm around Irena’s waist and squeezed her. At that moment, she loved her sister—loved everything, this beautiful, sensual world and its happy, foolish inhabitants. “Let’s buy some cider, some fruit pies and some cakes, and have a picnic over there by the copse.”

  Irena laughed and kissed Adelina on the cheek. “Ada, dearest, I adore you.”

  “And I you.” Adelina looked at Silvana, who lowered her lashes and smiled.

  Chapter Eight

  The noon sun attempted to rout the townsfolk from their merriment, but they merely sheltered beneath hats, awnings and trees and continued their revelry just as before. Adelina sprawled on a soft rug beneath the shade of several trees while Irena knelt beside her, a glass of cider held to her dreaming lips. Silvana and Rafael sat side by side opposite the sisters, their eyes on the bustle of the marketplace.

  “I love cider.” Irena closed her eyes and took a long sip. “The freshness of it. It’s so much clearer than wine. It cleanses the tongue.”

  Adelina unwrapped a fruit pie and bit through its stiff crust. The jam inside tingled on her tongue. “I just love being away from the manor. I feel like cobwebs are emptying from my lungs with every breath.”

  “I know what you mean.” Irena set her glass aside. “Rafael, Silvana, surely you two can join us here on our rug. There’s so much room.”

  Rafael turned with a smile, though it seemed forced, his eyes not showing their usual humor. “Indeed we could.” With as much dignity as a man might manage while crawling, he transferred himself to the foot of Adelina and Irena’s rug. After an amused glance at her scuttling brother, Silvana stood, gathered her hat and resettled herself.

  Irena inched across the rug until she was in what was, for her, daring proximity to Rafael. “Before we finish our lunch and get back to exploring, I’d love to hear another of your stories.”

  Rafael propped his head in his hands. “A story, you say. Well, I’ve an endless repository, that much is true…”

  He frowned at Silvana, who had reclined on the rug, her head only inches from Adelina’s knees. It was painfully obvious to anyone—that is, anyone not Irena—that his decision to separate the sibling pairs had not been to provide a chaste distance between him and his bride-perhaps, but between his sister and her lover-to-be.

  “Yes, tell us a tale,” said Silvana. “And feel no urgency to rush.”

  “A short one would be best, so I don’t while away our day.” Rafael turned to Irena and began to speak some ridiculous nonsense, glancing at every other word toward Adelina and Silvana.

  Bored immediately by Rafael’s anxious narration, Adelina shifted her attention to Silvana, whose face gleamed beneath a film of sweat. “You seem to be suffering in the heat.”

  “I feel ablaze. But I wonder if the sun alone is to blame.” Silvana’s gaze lowered to Adelina’s mouth. “You have jam on your face, Ada.”

  A nervous trembling caught hold of Adelina’s hands. “Really? Whereabouts?”

  “Here.” Silvana stroked Adelina’s cheek and exhibited a smear of jam on her fingertip. “It shouldn’t go to waste.” With suggestive slowness, she licked her finger clean and ran her tongue across her teeth. As Adelina watched the performance, her hands gripped the fabric of the rug, and an aching sensation gathered between her legs.

  “All gone.” Silvana brandished her shining fingertip, and her eyes narrowed as she smiled, giving her an appropriately feline expression. “Should we now pay heed to my brother’s tale?”

  Adelina glanced at Rafael. He had become a lively comedian as he attempted to entertain Irena while disguising his anguish at the seduction taking place only a short distance away. “I don’t think so. I’d rather hear a tale from you.”

  “Oh? Did you have any particular one in mind?”

  “I’d like to know more about that mark on your cheek.”

  Silvana twisted her lips. “Mmm. Perhaps not yet. It may ruin the mood.”

  “So it’s not a happy tale, then?”

  “I have few happy tales in my life, Ada.”

  “Then it’s well time one was written. How would you like it to start?”

  Silvana laughed. Was there any sound in creation more lascivious, more suited to making a maiden’s skin shiver? “I suppose it starts with me, the heroine.”

  “Shall it be an adventure or a romance?”

  “Surely one requires the other.”

  “That depends. It could be a pious romance.”

  “God spare us from pious romances. I think it should be a scandalous romance, don’t you? Rife with lewdness and forbidden desires.”

  Adelina giggled and cursed herself for it. Why did she have to be so damn girlish? “Very well, a scandalous romance. And when shall it begin?”

  “At nightfall, of course.” Silvana closed her eyes. “Bathed in moonlight, a touch upon a breast, a lash upon a cheek, a breath upon a pair of lusting lips…”

  Adelina discovered herself mangling the rug again. “Am I blushing?”

  Silvana chuckled. “Every inch of you.” Her gaze roamed Adelina’s body. “Well, at least so I imagine.”

  “Well!” Rafael leaped to his feet and clapped his hands. “What a tale I just told, and it’s a shame you two whisperers missed it. Silvana, dear sister, I’ve a notion that we might take a walk together by that river.” He pointed to a twisting blue ribbon that ran beside a high bank some yards distant. A row of stately trees shaded the path beside the water and shed their leaves into its gentle flow.

  “It looks pleasant.” Silvana stood with a grimace. “But you can hardly abandon our lady friends, Rafael. Master Sebastian would want a strong man to escort them at all times. One like yourself, adept in the art of masculine conversation.”

  Adelina snickered, and Rafael shot her the first glare she’d ever received from him. It was sobering, and she cut her laughter short.

  “I’m sure we’ll be fine,” she said. “We’ll just stay in the market. Irena and I will look out for one another. Isn’t that right, Ira?”

  Irena frowned. “We’re really not supposed to.”

  “We’re grown women, and here we are with the marketplace to ourselves. Let’s enjoy it. Just for an afternoon. Please.”

  Irena twirled a strand of her hair, and her grey eyes cleared. “Oh, very well. But we’ll only wander for a little while, and then we’ll come back here and wait for Rafael and Silvana to return.”

  “Very good.” Rafael cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to step away from your side, Irena, as you are exquisite company, but I need to say a few words to my sister. A secret between siblings—you two must certainly know how it is.”

  “I wish we did.” Irena pouted. “Ada never shares her secrets with anyone, yet I tell her everything…” She trailed off, perhaps realizing that she was rambling. “I hope you two have a fine walk. Ada, come along.”

  The sisters returned to the clamor of the marketplace. As the market enfolded them with its varied scents and colors, Irena brightened. “Look, Ada, puppies.” She dragged Adelina to a basket of wriggling pups and lifted one by its scruff. “Oh, it’s so sweet! Touch its little feet!”

  Adelina prodded the animal’s paws. “How old is it?”

  “A month, my lady.” The pet merchant peered at them from behind his stall. “And they’re a fair price, but I’d not sell them unless I knew they were going to a safe home.”

  “Unfortunately, our father would never agree to keep it.” Adelina touched a puppy upon the snout, and it licked her finger. “A shame. Lise
would adore a puppy.”

  “Wouldn’t she just? She’s always drawing animals.” Irena returned the struggling creature to its basket. “Ah, well.”

  The sisters resumed their slow, distracted walk through the market. Near a stand selling apples, Irena grasped Ada’s arm.

  “Ada.” A pink glow bloomed in Irena’s cheeks. “I was hoping to buy a gift in secret for Rafael. But I’ve no idea what he might like.”

  Adelina took Irena’s hand. “Actually, I was thinking something similar. I want to buy a secret gift for Silvana.”

  “A secret gift for…” Irena wrinkled her forehead. “That’s an odd thing to do.”

  “Well, it’s odd for a woman being courted to buy a gift for her suitor, isn’t it? He’s supposed to be showering you with everything you might want, not the other way around.”

  “No, it’s not that strange. I mean, it’s showing him he has my favor.” A gentle light touched Irena’s eyes. “And he does. I’m in love with him already, Ada. It’s not because he’s handsome. It’s because he’s so different to anyone I’ve ever met. He has so many stories, he’s seen so many places. Not like the other men who’ve come courting, spoiled brats with little hearts and empty minds.”

  “I’ve never heard you talk with so much fervor. Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

  Irena shook with giggles. “I know, I’m not myself. I’m not even sure if Mother and Father like him. But even if they say no, I’ll say yes. I’ll do it on their behalf.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. You know it doesn’t work that way.”

  “I know. And it’s not fair.” Irena stared at her feet. “Why isn’t it our own happiness that matters most? Why do they get the final say?” For several seconds she remained silent, twirling one of her bracelets. “I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I changed the subject, didn’t I? You were telling me about buying a gift for Silvana.”

  “Yes. I very much want to.”

  Irena chewed on her lower lip. “You don’t have any money left, do you? You spent it all on that book you bought last winter.”

  “No. I don’t. But if I did see something I thought she might enjoy, would you lend me some?”