by Den Patrick
The Orfano glowered, but mention of Stephania silenced him, bringing a wealth of misery with every syllable of her name. The soldiers filed out of the courtyard, more than a handful shooting wary or hostile looks at the Orfano as they departed.
‘Demesne is afire with talk of your actions yesterday, my lord.’
‘You would have done the same if you’d been there.’ A flash of memory brought the sensation of Stephania’s lips to mind – and his inability to surrender to them.
‘It was a brave thing,’ continued Ruggeri, ‘saving Lady Prospero and all.’
‘Did we discover what happened to the four guards in the piazza?’ asked Dino, keen to avoid further mention of the noblewoman.
‘They were found in a side street with their throats cut. They paid a high price for their laxity.’
‘There’s nothing lax about those two.’ Dino gestured to the far side of the courtyard where D’arzenta and the capo were locked in argument.
‘Guido fancies himself for commander of guard in the elections,’ said Ruggeri.
‘But D’arzenta is worried he won’t get the votes he needs.’
‘D’arzenta worries you’ll stand against him.’ Ruggeri sighed.
‘And what do you worry about?’
‘I’m not paid to worry; I’m paid to teach.’ Ruggeri shook his head. ‘Are you going to give the novices the brunt of your bad temper this afternoon?’
‘No,’ Dino replied, not meeting the eyes of the maestro di spada. ‘I think it best I retire for the day.’
‘Take care, my lord. Get some rest.’
‘Thank you, Ruggeri.’ Dino turned from the empty courtyard and the fierce sun above to wend his way through the stifling corridors of Demesne.
The walk back to his apartment was uneventful. Dino shrugged off his jacket and hung it from the back of the armchair nearest the door. A caraffa of wine had been brought up, left on the sideboard with clean glasses. The previous night’s empty bottle had been removed. It was of small consequence; didn’t all the nobles drink a similar amount?
He was unbuckling his sword belt just as the bedroom door yawned open. He flung the belt up, scabbard and all, then caught the sword hilt and shucked the blade free in a circling motion. His opponent was armed only with linen.
‘Fiorenza.’ Dino released a breath. ‘Forgive me. I’m on edge and wasn’t expecting you.’
The maid smiled after a moment’s hesitation, her gaze lingering on the blade. She clutched the bundle of bedclothes more tightly.
‘I can’t say I blame you in the light of yesterday. I only came for the sheets. I can come back later if you’d prefer?’
‘It’s fine.’ Dino sheathed the sword. ‘I’m going to rest. Have the afternoon for yourself.’
‘Thank you.’ Fiorenza made to exit, then thought better of it. ‘Is it true you saved Lady Prospero?’
Dino nodded and crossed to the sideboard, not trusting himself to speak. He reached for the wine then paused before pouring water instead.
‘She’s very beautiful,’ ventured Fiorenza.
Dino nodded again, unwilling to meet the woman’s eyes.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow perhaps?’ Fiorenza curtsied and left the room.
‘She is very beautiful,’ said Dino, but no sooner had the words passed his lips than the image of Massimo came to him. Achilles scuttled from under the couch and began the ascent up one leg.
‘I wondered where you were hiding.’ Dino reached down and hefted the reptile onto his shoulder. ‘Perhaps we should train you with a blade. I trust you more than I trust the guards.’
Achilles blinked and flicked out a black tongue. A muted conversation was taking place in the corridor, one of the voices belonged to Fiorenza. Dino waited for the rap of knuckles on wood then closed a fist around the door handle.
‘When did it become so difficult to enjoy a moment’s peace?’ he asked the drake in a whisper and opened the door.
‘Marchesa.’ Medea Contadino stood in the corridor, a look of relief on her face, almost as pale as the gown she wore.
‘It is good to see you unharmed, my lord.’ There was a tired, wary look in her eyes.
Dino gestured her in and bade her sit down. ‘You really don’t have to bother with the formalities. I’m long past caring. Wine?’
‘No, thank you, Dino.’
‘How is Massimo? He took a wound yesterday.’
‘He’s fine.’ ‘The dottore saw him. If you hadn’t been there—’
‘That’s not the case. It was Massimo who invited me to the taverna. We defended Stephania together.’
‘You’re very honest, Dino, but the cittadini tell a different story. You’re quite the hero, but I’m concerned that good reputation is about to be undone.’
‘How so?’ Dino frowned, wishing he’d had some wine after all. The water was tepid and tasted of grit.
‘The nobili have long been fascinated by your friendship with Massimo, and after the other day …’
‘When we were late for the session of the Ravenscourt.’
‘Exactly,’ said Medea. ‘We’ve barely recovered from the shock of Cherubini.’
‘Cherubini wasn’t hurting anyone.’ Dino fell silent, the anger in his voice all too clear.
Medea looked away for a second. ‘I didn’t say that he was, nor am I offended by what he is, but many are and many find it disgusting.’
‘And now they’re talking about me.’
‘Yes.’ Medea laced her fingers and looked thoughtful.
‘And I’m already disgusting on account of being Orfano.’ His eye slipped to his forearm.
‘Is there someone,’ Medea paused and swallowed, ‘some woman that you are keen on?’
‘When would I have the time to court a woman?’ Dino nearly stumbled on the words. It was not a question he’d asked before.
‘I appreciate Stephania Prospero is somewhat older …’ Medea faltered as she saw the expression cross Dino’s face ‘… and that her mother wanted her to marry Lucien, but she would be a good match, if only politically.’
‘I’m not marrying in response to the first flurry of gossip. If people think me invertito they can call me out. I’ll give them an answer in steel.’ Dino looked down at his boots, well aware of how ridiculous he sounded.
‘It’s not the first flurry of gossip, Dino. I really do think you should marry. As an Orfano you can do as you please. You don’t have to marry nobility if there’s a woman among the cittadini who’s taken your eye.’
‘You’re talking about Speranza.’
Medea flushed and said nothing.
‘As if I don’t have enough to worry about, now I have to consider a wedding and a bride.’ Dino crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of wine. It was larger than he intended, so he told himself.
‘Any word from the town today?’ he asked before taking a sip.
‘Emilo and I went to the market. We felt a show of confidence might make people feel more at ease.’ The visit had not been entirely well received judging by her tight smile. ‘The rest of the town was unaffected. Fires were lit to create a distraction but it was the food they were after. The fires failed to take hold or were quickly extinguished by the cittadini.’
‘That’s fortunate.’
‘Fortune had nothing to do with it. My husband insisted we buy a hundred pails after the first attack. We handed them out just this week.’
‘If only the rest of the nobili were so prudent, or so charitable.’ Dino released a breath. ‘What happened to the disciple?’
‘Agostina? She’s safe. I have her at my apartment, recovering from the shock.’
‘And you trust her?’
‘She’s not political, Dino. The people trust her; I trust her.’
‘You can’t blame me for being wary.’ Dino sat forward, cradling his wine in both hands. ‘An uninvited guest arrives at a funeral and ushers in a rain of ants …’
‘That wasn’t her doing. You can’t
believe that, Dino.’
‘I don’t, but I’m a soldier. I dislike ambiguity as much I dislike disobedience. What agenda is she pushing?’
‘Faith needs no agenda.’
Dino slumped into the armchair, sipping his wine as Achilles slithered down to the floor, coiling about his boots. Medea fussed with the sleeve of her gown.
‘So are you going to tell me why you’re here, or were you hoping to make a convert?’ Dino forced a smile but Medea was unimpressed with his attempt to lighten the mood.
‘I need your complete confidence.’
Dino raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought we were long past such assurances. I’ve always been a staunch ally of House Contadino.’
‘This is different.’ Medea narrowed her eyes. ‘Duchess Prospero sent my husband a letter. She fears she is about to suffer a betrayal by a close ally. She wants to meet my husband alone to discuss coming over to our side.’
‘Duchess Fontein has severed links with House Prospero?’
‘We don’t know for sure. It could be a disagreement with House Allattamento. We just don’t know.’
‘This is perfect.’ Dino grinned. ‘Duchess Prospero needs our help. I couldn’t have wished for fortune like this.’ He took another sip of wine.
‘He can’t meet her, Dino.’ Medea’s face was taut with worry, fingers tightly laced. ‘She wants to meet in the woodland beyond the cemetery, for secrecy.’
‘Small wonder you’re anxious.’
‘It bears the stench of a trap. And yet Emilio refuses to pass up the chance to make an ally.’
‘What do you need?’
‘Go with him. I know Massimo will escort him, regardless of whether they want him to go alone, but after yesterday …’
‘Massimo’s wounded shoulder.’
Medea nodded and wrung her hands, eyes brimming with concern.
Dino stood and crossed to the fireplace. ‘When?’
‘The day after tomorrow.’
‘Of course I’ll go, Medea.’
She stood up and crossed the room, standing on tiptoe, taking his face in both hands. For a second he remembered Stephania in the very same pose just the day before. Medea pressed her lips to his forehead just as Camelia used to do when he were younger.
‘I don’t know what we’d do without you, Dino. I fear we’d all be lost.’ She smiled with a sadness he found unbearable. ‘Have you visited Stephania today? Is she well?’
‘No.’ Dino blushed scarlet. ‘I suppose I should.’ He knew he’d struggle to explain to Stephania why he’d shunned her kiss; he’d struggle more to make the journey to her door.
‘I should return,’ said Medea. ‘Emilio will be worrying.’
Dino opened the door. ‘You have an escort?’
‘Of course. Nardo and Abramo are waiting at the end of the corridor.’
‘You’ve got Nardo playing bodyguard?’
‘I trust him.’
‘And to think –’ Dino smiled ‘– this was supposed to be my secret apartment. Seems all of Landfall knows where I sleep.’
‘Let’s hope not,’ said Medea, then turned away into the gloom of Demesne’s corridors.
34
Prospero Betrayed
– 17 Agosto 325
Dino left his apartment as the sun’s first rays adorned the horizon with golden light. Another stifling, airless day, the sort that suited cataphract drakes and few others. Achilles perched, content and blood warm on his shoulder, tail curled around the collar of his jacket.
‘I can’t put off seeing any her longer,’ mumbled Dino. Achilles tightened his grip on his shoulder and performed a slow blink of his onyx eyes. The Orfano descended the worn stone steps of House Erudito. He was in no mood to climb Demesne today, had no wish to pick his way across rooftops. His progress was slow, his desire to visit anywhere but House Prospero’s seventh floor. Achilles hissed.
‘I know, I know.’
The Orfano drifted through the workshops of House Prospero. Clogged and aproned craftsmen regarded him. Many nodded; all were curious. He commissioned a new suit on a whim, much to the surprise of a trio of tailors. That he’d chosen black damask in the height of summer was not remarked upon, nor that he’d abandoned his customary grey. His responses were stunted, his small talk atrophied, attention unfocused. The tailors took their cue and resumed their work, tight smiles and polite bows ending the stilted conversation.
This was the creative heart of Demesne, where clothes were sewn, furniture made, raw materials transmuted into wonders. Its blacksmiths and armourers had long since defected to House Fontein leaving a soft murmur of industry.
‘My lord?’ Stephania looked pale, not quite frowning. ‘Strange to see you in House Prospero.’
‘I …’ He glanced at his boots. ‘I was just coming to see you.’
The craftsmen politely ignored the noblewoman and the Orfano in their midst, but Dino imagined every ear would be bent to the conversation. Stephania glanced around, unease on her face, appearing to read his mind. She gestured that he should follow.
Up spiral staircases they went, past narrow windows, hearing the scuttle of rats in the darkness. Before long they were standing on her balcony, Landfall a tapestry of green and gold before them, the dust brown roads winding to distant locales.
‘I love it up here.’ Stephania let down her hair, the rich brown of her tresses tumbling. ‘I sometimes think the greatest treasure in Demesne is the view.’
Dino smiled, nodding his agreement, but words remained beyond reach.
‘I wanted to apologise to you,’ she said, hands toying with the slender purple cord that encircled her waist. Dino closed his eyes and shook his head, then massaged his brow with one hand.
‘There’s nothing to apologise for, Stephania. The fault—’
‘I was presumptuous,’ she added.
‘You were overcome.’ He dipped his head, unwilling to meet her gaze. ‘Looking for comfort after the attack.’
‘That’s not true. I think of you fondly, my lord. You saved my life.’
‘My lord?’ Dino rolled his eyes. ‘We’ve known each other for ever, Stephania. You of all people don’t have to call me that.’
‘Do you have any feelings for me, Dino? Any at all?’
‘Of course, but …’ She had thrown him off balance. Her forwardness was unexpected. Words were so much harder to parry than blades. ‘It’s just …’ The objection twisted on his lips, almost burned on the way out. ‘I’m so much younger than you.’
‘And Lucien? Rafaela?’ She’d prepared for this. Lord Marino’s wife was older by a greater margin. Stephania had easily sidestepped his riposte.
‘I wouldn’t want people to think less of you for transferring your affections from one Orfano to another. We’re brothers after all. Of a sort.’
‘Ten years, Dino.’ She struck back. ‘Ten long years. Do you think I care what they say in the Ravenscourt?’
‘At least we’re past the formalities now.’ A smile stole over his lips. She didn’t return it.
‘I’m serious, Dino.’ The momentum was hers. ‘I can’t do all of this on my own. Why should I have to do this on my own?’ She drew closer. ‘I’ll understand if there’s someone else.’
He shook his head, as much to dispel the image of Massimo as to refute her suggestion. Achilles slithered from his shoulder and coiled around Dino’s boots, glaring at the noblewoman.
‘Is it Speranza?’
‘What?’
‘The Fontein messenger. Do you have …’ she faltered ‘… an understanding with her?’
‘No. Nothing like that. Why does everyone think I’m bedding Speranza?’
‘You spend a lot of time with her considering she’s sworn to House Fontein.’
‘My bed remains mine, and mine alone. I’ve …’ His turn to falter now, suddenly vulnerable. ‘I’ve never shared my bed.’ The words crushed him. Given voice, they seemed terrible and cruel. Stephania looked at him, a wistful cast to her featu
res, features greatly admired throughout Landfall.
‘Never?’
He shook his head, tried to swallow past the thickness in his throat.
‘There’s no reason for you sleep alone, Dino.’ She turned as soon as the words had tumbled from her lips, each one finding its mark on him. The Orfano remained silent, watching her retreat into the cool of her apartment.
‘That could have gone better,’ breathed the Orfano. The drake looked back and Dino imagined deep disapproval in the stony eyes. ‘It’s not like she made it easy for me.’ Dino looked away, regarding the town below, spotting the Domina in her familiar scarlet robes, escorted by six guards. A thought occurred.
Dino had all but run back to House Erudito. He rapped on the door and felt a moment’s disappointment as a voice called out, ‘One moment.’ Dino waited for Fiorenza to appear. She was midway through her chores in the Domina’s apartment. The door swung open and a smile touched her lips. ‘Good morning. I’m afraid she’s not here.’
‘Ah, yes. I know.’ Dino floundered a moment. ‘She asked me to fetch something for her.’
‘She did leave in quite a hurry. I’m almost done.’
‘You can leave the key with me if you like. I’ll return it to you this afternoon.’
‘It’s not a problem.’ Fiorenza’s eyes narrowed. ‘I can wait.’
‘There’s really no need.’ Dino forced a smile. ‘There’s a letter, and she’s not sure where she left it …’
Fiorenza’s look made it clear she did not believe, or have any intention of believing, him. Dino didn’t bother to repeat the lie.
She reached into her pocket. ‘I’ll need them back as soon as you’ve found the letter, my lord.’
‘Of course.’
‘As soon as you’re done, my lord.’
He flashed her a grin, but it was apologetic rather than sincere, embarrassed rather than grateful.
‘Well, here we are again,’ he whispered as the door clicked shut behind Fiorenza. He locked it, keen not to be discovered. The Domina’s apartment was unchanged, disarray and clutter, buried beneath correspondence and statutes. He bypassed the broad desk of her industry and crossed to the bedroom. He was not disappointed, although the letters were not quite so carelessly left on display as before.