by Lisa Bergren
Marcello turned to me, pulling off his tunic, strapping on a back sheath, shouldering a sword, and then settling the tunic back over it. "You shall follow us, you and Matteo, and yet remain just out of range for any arrows sent our way. Obviously, you must not allow the men who come out to retrieve us actually lay hands on us. Shoot over our right shoulders. When I snap with my left hand, we'll dodge left, and your arrow, Evangelia, as well as Matteo's, shall take out the two men in front of me and Luca. We'll draw our weapons and take care of the one in front of Rodolfo, as well as any others."
Matteo paled. I'm sure I looked a shade closer to gray than even he.
"Nay, Marcello," I said. "I cannot! What if I miss?"
He gave me a small grin. "Do not."
Luca took my hand and kissed it. "Please do not."
"Surely there's another way," Mom said.
"I don't see it," Marcello said, already striding down the hill. "The Lerici knights shall soon be upon us. If the Fiorentini see no way out, they shall murder everyone they can before giving into death themselves. Our only hope is to make them think they are about to claim victory—without delay—as well as escape." He turned to face us, walking backward. "Our only hope."
"I myself look forward to the day," Dad said, "when men can sit down and settle their differences across a table."
"When does that occur?" Mom asked softly. "I don't remember that ever happening for long in the history books."
He sighed and nodded. "You're right, of course." He looked to me. "You've got this, Lia. You've shot a hundred birds from the sky. You can do this."
I shook my head as we trudged down the hill behind Luca, Marcello, and Rodolfo. A shout went up from within the walls. A man in dark clothing pointed in our direction. So we'd been seen. This was really happening. They wanted me to shoot a man, directly over one of our guy's shoulders.
"Don't overthink it," Dad said, putting a hand on my neck. "You have the Lerici arrows," he said, looking at my quiver. "They fly straight and true."
So, yeah. My dad was talking me up on how to assassinate an assassin. Talk about your alternate universes.
Three more servants ran out, so far that I thought they'd make it, when arrows brought them down. I groaned and nocked an arrow, Matteo doing the same beside me. Were my hands shaking as much as his?
I shifted the strap of my quiver, getting it set just right, then felt back to settle the arrows, separating them so that I could grab and nock another as fast as I could.
Marcello, limping as if in pain but covering it, stopped just shy of an arrow's reach, fifteen feet ahead of us. "I am Lord Marcello Forelli!" he yelled. "Release your prisoners and show yourselves, Fiorentini scum! This ends here."
The leader immediately rounded the corner, a young woman in his arms. I saw Luca falter and Marcello ease his hand to his cousin's shoulder.
Adela Forelli. Luca's sister. Marcello's cousin. It had to be, for them to react so.
Two other men emerged, an older woman in one man's arms, an older man directly in front of the other. Two archers appeared on the walls beside the gate. Matteo swore under his breath, beside me.
Marcello, Luca and Rodolfo couldn't see them, from below. Higher on the hill, we could.
"Take your ease," I said, handing him a Lerici arrow. "Use these. They fly faster, truer, and farther than any of our own." Thinking it through then, I handed him four more, leaving me a good ten, and he dropped them into his quiver. We stepped forward, together, and each took a knee, about five feet from the other, the same distance as Luca and Marcello were. Behind us, my parents, Gabi, and the other knights stood, weapons drawn.
How long did we have? Until the Lerici knights were here and the Fiorentini recognized that death was upon them? "Go on, boys," I muttered as I took aim at the archer on the wall. "Force him to it. Hurry."
The guys moved forward a bit, taunting their nemeses. "Take us instead," Luca called, tossing his sword aside. "You want us most." I knew his waistband was filled with daggers.
"Is that the traitor Rodolfo Greco?" called the leader, dragging Adela forward.
"It is I," Rodolfo called, stepping closer to Marcello.
"Cease your approach!"
My eyes shifted from one Fiorentini to the other. All five. Or had another survived? "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," I whispered. Our guys were getting closer to the killers.
"You intend to trade yourselves for these?" said the leader, bringing his knife blade tighter against Adela's throat.
"For innocents such as these," Marcello said. He and Luca stepped forward, Rodolfo right behind them. They began to spread out, giving us room. "But we only give ourselves to you as prisoners if you release them unharmed."
The Fiorentini leader hesitated, considering.
Marcello snapped, expecting us to take out the men in front of them. But he hadn't known about the men on the wall when he first set out.
"The archers, Matteo," I grunted, and let my first arrow fly just as the defenders drew back their arrows, taking aim at our men. Mine reached my target, the force of it knocking him backward, out of sight. Matteo's man dodged at the last moment and took it through the shoulder. Good enough, I thought, nocking another arrow as I strode forward.
I needed to be in closer range, because now our men had drawn their hidden weapons. With a nod from the Fiorentini leader, the two men holding Luca's aunt and uncle threw them to the ground and charged toward Marcello and Rodolfo. Luca eased toward the leader and Adela, hands up, as if trying to talk him down.
I was close enough to see the leader's expression falling from glory to fury-filled panic. I could see the muscles on his arm tighten, could read in his eyes that he was about to slit Adela's throat as he had so many others in the last day....
Sounds of the battle faded, my concentration solely on the man about to take the life of someone my man loved.
"Not this one," I whispered. I aimed, adjusted a hair's breath, and let the arrow loose. It sailed from my bow, and I could do nothing but watch it fly as if it moved in slow motion. It just missed Marcello as his attacker drove him backward. It was almost stopped by Rodolfo's arm as he drew back to punch his adversary. It passed over Luca's shoulder.
But it ended in the forehead of the leader, five inches from Adela's own.
His fingers splayed, dropping the long dagger. He stumbled backward, a hand starting to move up to his forehead, as if he wondered what was bringing him down, as if he couldn't quite believe it. But then he fell, dead.
Adela whirled, hand to mouth, and then looked up the hill to me. But I was focused on the others fighting our men. "Come," I grunted to Matteo. As he did so I drew another arrow, walking toward them, taking aim at one, then another, considering their movements, seeking the first clear opportunity.
One of the men turned and kicked, surprising Marcello—still not at his best—sending his sword flying. He dodged his adversary's strike, the blade brushing past his neck by half an inch.
I knelt, forcing myself to wait through the man's next strike, knowing I needed just a bit more focus, concentration. Marcello caught his arm as he brought his sword toward him. They stood there, chests heaving. But the Fiorentini's left hand was drawing a dagger, his intent quite clear. In another half second, he would drive the knife into Marcello.
I let the arrow fly.
It rammed through his leather armor, knocking him backward. He dropped his sword and fell hard, to his rear end, his hands coming to his chest. At that moment, as Rodolfo took out his target, the Lerici knights took down the second.
It was done. Over. Our men were safe. Adela and her aunt and uncle were safe. I stumbled toward Luca, who lifted one arm and welcomed me into the curve of his embrace.
Gabi screamed, behind me. I whipped my head back to see what alarmed her, then followed her gaze to the wall. The wounded archer, the one Matteo had winged, was back. And he aimed his arrow at me.
Five Lerici arrows flew over our heads as Luca dragged me toward two hor
ses. But as soon as we reached them and looked back, we saw that the Lerici had taken him down.
"Oh, Luca," I said, tears starting to flow. "Thank God. Thank God you are well."
"And you, Evangelia," he said, bringing his other arm around me. His chest still heaved for breath, but he held on to me, caressing my neck, my back. "You did well, love. Shh." He kissed my hair, my forehead. "Please do not cry, Evangelia. Please. It is all right. It is over."
"Over?" I asked, looking up into his eyes. "For how long?"
"For as long as God grants us peace." He brought my hands to his lips. "Come. We must go to my sister."
He led me back toward her. Mom and Dad were already beside Adela, greeting her aunt and uncle.
Adela turned to watch our approach and, seeing Luca, hurried to him. He dropped my hand to embrace her. Together, they cried, tears of joy mingling with relief. Luca grinned at me, over his shoulder, then picked up Adela to turn her around in the air. I teared up again too, in spite of myself.
Gabi wrapped her arm around me, and we nestled our heads next to each other. "It's over," she whispered. "And look. Look at that guy, so in love with you," she said. "That's life, in his eyes. Hope. Isn't it?"
I looked over at Luca, beside Adela, pride and joy in his eyes. Mom and Dad stood nearby, smiling and waiting.
"That's a whole lotta good you can grab, Lia, in the midst of the bad. A whole lotta love. Right there. In front of you. In front of us." She took my hand. "Are you still in?"
"For better or worse," I said resignedly. "When you took your vows with Marcello, the rest of us pretty much did the same, signing on for life."
"Then let's do that. Sign on for life. For every day God grants it."
Rodolfo sidled near, hearing that last part. "Every day, a gift."
Luca led Adela up to greet us, his arm around her shoulders. She wiped tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand and gave us a small smile as we stopped, three feet from one another. "Lady Evangelia Betarrini," he said, "I'd like you to know my sister, Adela Forelli." She was several inches shorter than I, with mousy brown hair, but the same, lovely, kind and merry green eyes as her brother.
"Adela," I said, offering her my hand. She took it but didn't shake it, in the manner of medieval women.
"Lady Evangelia," she said. "I owe you my very life."
"Not I, but God alone," I said, with a glance toward my sister. "And 'tis I who owe a debt to you for remaining so still," I said with a little smile.
Her grin grew wider. "So this is the one?" She said to Luca. "The one they say has stolen your heart?"
"Is that what I've done?" I asked, my eyes moving to Luca. "Stolen your heart?"
"Undoubtedly, m'lady," he said. "You've marked me forever." His hand went to his chest, and he gave me a meaningful look, silently reminding me of our kiss.
And in that moment, I glimpsed hope again, like a shaft of light piercing the darkness of my soul. Felt a lifting deep within, as if I'd been turned from the end of a bottomless cave, back toward the exit.
And I knew that somehow, some way, most everything would be all right. For all of us. Gabi and Marcello. Luca and Adela. Mom and Dad. Rodolfo. And me.
Day by day. In time.
A Note from the Author
Many thanks to my editor, Caitlyn Carlson, and my proofers—Lindsay Olson, Amber Troyer, Serena Chase and Kristen Hamm. I'm very grateful for your work!
And thanks to all the girls/women/She-Wolves who are a part of the Facebook fan page, "River of Time Series." You all make me smile, every day, with your enthusiasm and passion for this series. Erin and Aimee, thanks for even letting me post pictures of you posing like Lia. Every one of my River Tribe is awesome!
Also—Aquina and Cavo are fictional names for towns born in my imagination, so don't go scouring your maps of Tuscany to find them.
Liked BOURNE? Well, if you haven't read WATERFALL, CASCADE or TORRENT, then you already know a few spoilers, but you'll still enjoy the breath-stealing adventures and the story of how Gabi, Lia and their parents ended up in medieval Italy! Click on the links to check them out right now:
Waterfall
Cascade
Torrent
Want to know more about the River of Time and/or Lisa Bergren? Join us:
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Twitter: @LisaTBergren
This is a picture of me, above Siena in the campanile, or bell tower. It overlooks the clam-shell-like piazza, Il Campo. ~Lisa
This is a castle in Chianti we toured, which got the wheels turning...From the gardens, you could see other castles on other hills. I swear it was like time travelling! Although, I pictures Castello Forelli much bigger than this. ~Lisa
Entering Il Campo, the main piazza in Siena...Palazzo Pubblico at the bottom, with the campanile (bell tower). The bell tower was finished during the years depicted in River of Time. I might add a scene up there in TRIBUTARY...
Il Campo is surrounded by palazzos...maybe one was Palazzo Rossi? And you can see the well at the top center--although the well was rebuilt after the years depicted in River of Time.
Here's me and my hubby in enemy territory--above Firenze! If you ever get to Florence, climb to the top of the Duomo (big church). It was one of my favorite things we did there.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
A Note from the Author