Bianca

by Small Bertrice

  Once Sebastiano Rovere had said almost the exact same words to him, and he had agreed for the sake of his family. But Lorenzo di Medici was not Rovere. He was a man of honor, more powerful, his family more dangerous, and the price would be correspondingly higher, it was true. But Bianca must be saved from her infidel lover before it was too late. “I agree,” he said quietly. “I will not refuse the favor you require of me when you need it, my lord.” He stood and held out his hand to Lorenzo.

  The great man stood and accepted the silk merchant’s hand as they shook in agreement. Then the two men sat again to drink their wine. When he had finally drained the goblet, Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo arose once more, thanking Lorenzo di Medici for his kindness. He returned home to tell his wife the matter would shortly be settled.

  Orianna didn’t ask him for any details. Sometimes it was better not to know. She knew what she needed to know. Prince Amir would be removed from Bianca’s sphere. Orianna would shortly regain her eldest daughter’s company. Then she would make a wonderful marriage for Bianca, and Bianca would be truly happy again.

  But Bianca was happy as Amir made arrangements for them to leave the republic and sail to Turkey. He had already seen to a vessel to take them to Constantinople. He had just one more trip to Florence to put his warehouse into the hands of his two employees, who were being told he was seeking new antiquities for his business. As he had taken such trips twice before, they had no suspicion that anything was different. Later he would inform them that he did not mean to return.

  “I wish you didn’t have to go to the city,” Bianca told him the morning of his departure. “Why can you not simply send a message to your men?”

  “Because neither of them reads very well,” he explained. “Actually only one of them can understand the bills of lading. They do better and are more reassured when their instructions are verbal, my love. They would consider it odd if I went off without speaking to them. Then they would gossip with others about it, and who knows what would be thought of my disappearance. So let me go and speak with them, Bianca. Krikor will come with me and I shall not linger. Two days at the most.” He kissed her a lingering kiss, breaking away with a sigh. “Soon we shall be at my palace and you will be happy, beloved,” he told her. Then he was gone.

  Bianca was all packed and ready to depart. She waited two days, three days, and then a week went by. He had been delayed, of course, she thought, but he might have sent word to her. How like a man, she thought and she smiled. He probably expected with each new day that he would be leaving, and what a waste a messenger would be. But when the week ended and there was no sign of Prince Amir, Bianca took her horse and rode down the beach to the neighboring villa. When she arrived, she discovered to her shock that it was all closed up and deserted. As she walked around the outside of the house, she could see that heavy wooden shutters had been placed over the windows and the doors. She managed to peer through a crack in a kitchen window. Inside, the ovens and fireplace were cold, without fire. There was no sign of life whatsoever.

  What had happened? Why was his home closed up when they had not gone yet? Frightened, Bianca returned to Luce Stellare to see if her own servants knew anything. They didn’t and were as surprised as she was, but that evening one of the young local menservants who enjoyed the housemaid Pia’s company arrived at the kitchen door. They brought him to Bianca to tell his story.

  “Three days after the master departed for the city,” he began, “an official bearing the insignia of the di Medici family came to the villa. He paid us a full year’s wages, instructed us to close the house immediately and return to our own village. He remained the night while we accomplished the necessary tasks and then left with us seeing the villa was secured. That is all that I know or can tell you. The only one of the servants not one of us was Krikor, and he had gone with Prince Amir, madonna.”

  “Thank you,” Bianca told the servingman. “I see my family’s hand in this,” she told Agata. “They have somehow managed to involve the di Medici in all of this.”

  “Then you are lost,” Agata replied.

  “No! The vessel that was to take us to Turkey is due off our coast in just a few days’ time. We are getting on that vessel, Agata. We will go to Turkey, and we will find our way to Prince Amir’s palace, where we will await his arrival. He will come home eventually. I know he will! Lorenzo di Medici would not harm him, nor has my father the stomach for assassination.”

  “Travel alone? Without the prince? Are you mad?” Agata demanded to know. “We will be murdered, or taken into slavery without his protection.”

  “I shall tell the ship’s captain that Prince Amir was suddenly called home, and took the overland route; that he has instructed the captain to deliver me off the coast nearest the Moonlight Serai because traveling by sea will be easier for me. We will get to where we are going safely, Agata. I do not intend to allow my parents to make another marriage for me, no matter their well-meaning intentions.”

  “God and his blessed Mother help us,” Agata said.

  Bianca laughed. “I wish I could see my mother’s face when she discovers that I am gone for all her manipulations.”

  But the next morning a troop of men-at-arms in the company of an official, all wearing the insignia of the di Medici, arrived at Luce Stellare.

  “I have been instructed by my master, Lorenzo di Medici, to return you and your servant to your parents’ palazzo in the city,” the official told Bianca.

  “I regret I cannot comply with such a request,” Bianca told the official, but her heart was hammering against her ribs even as she spoke the bold words. “Neither my parents nor your master has any authority over me. Your men are free to water their animals, but then I would ask that you leave my house and my property immediately.”

  “Signora, I will not bandy words with you. I have my instructions. Whatever the legalities of this matter are, they are not my concern. I have been given my orders by my master himself, and I am not a man to fail in his assignment. I will give you one hour to prepare for the journey.”

  “You will leave immediately,” Bianca told the pompous official bravely.

  He sighed. “Signora, I beg you. Do not make this matter more difficult for yourself than it obviously already is. You will come with me in an hour, and if necessary you will be tied to your horse for the journey.”

  “Signore! Do not dare to threaten my mistress,” said Agata, speaking up boldly.

  “Woman, gather the servants who are part of this household and bring them to me immediately,” the official told her.

  Agata looked to Bianca, who nodded, realizing that those who had been so loyal to her should not be made to suffer with her. Agata hurried off, returning quickly with the four women servants and the two menservants.

  “Is this all of them?” the official asked.

  “Mine is a small household,” Bianca told him.

  He nodded, then spoke to them. “This house is to be closed up and secured immediately. You are to be paid for a full year’s service now. Master Pietro d’Angelo thanks you for your good care of his daughter, and bids you all return home to your village. Any livestock here is yours with his permission. This lady will now be taken to Florence, and she will not return. Go now, and do as you have been bid.”

  “Filomena,” Bianca called to her housekeeper, “take Jamila with you. She would not do well in the city.”

  “What of the dog, signora?” Primo asked her.

  “The dog?” Bianca was confused.

  “Darius, Prince Amir’s hound. He showed up here a few days ago hungry. I combed out his fur, which was badly matted,” her manservant said, “and we fed him.”

  Bianca felt a slight cramp in her heart. Both animals were to have gone with them. She turned to Agata and murmured something low. Her servingwoman nodded and ran off. “Will you keep the dog, Primo? You know he is a good hunter, and I do not think he would thrive within the city. He is not used to it. He needs to run.”

  Agat
a returned, and pushed something into Bianca’s hand.

  “Take this ring,” Bianca said, giving Primo the bejeweled gold band that had been her wedding ring. It was the only piece of the jewelry her husband had given her that somehow was not left behind when she fled him. “It will keep the dog for years to come. Indeed, it will keep you and your family most comfortably.”

  He took the ring but told her, “I would keep the dog anyway, signora. He is a fine animal. One day the prince will return for him. I will keep him safe until then.” Primo gave her a small bow. “May God protect you, signora.” Then turning about, he left her.

  “I will care for Jamila, signora. You need have no fear,” Filomena said. There were tears in the housekeeper’s eyes as she spoke.

  Bianca removed the small jeweled crucifix she wore about her neck on a golden chain and gave it to Filomena. “To remember me by,” she told her. Then she removed three rings from her fingers, giving the one with a small aquamarine to Gemma, her cook; and to each of the two little maidservants she gave a gold ring. They all began to weep.

  Seeing that he would soon have a situation on his hands, the official barked sharply at the sobbing women servants. “Go about your business immediately! This house must be closed within the next hour or two. Hurry now!” He clapped his hands at them. Now he turned to Bianca and Agata. “Signora, you will have baggage that must be loaded. Your father was so kind as to send a cart and driver. My men will help load your belongings if your servingwoman will be so kind as to direct them. I assume you will ride your horse. Will your woman, or would she prefer to travel in the cart with the driver?”

  “We will both ride our horses,” Bianca said. Then turning, she left him to prepare for her journey. She didn’t want to leave Luce Stellare but there was no way she could forestall this official mandate of the di Medici. Well, she would return to Florence but only because it was the last place she knew Amir to have been. She was going to find out what had happened to him. And she was going to make her parents wish they had never interfered with her life. “I did not run from Sebastiano Rovere,” she said to Agata, “only to be forced into another arranged marriage for the benefit of everyone except me. I will find Amir, and I will go with him wherever he goes.”

  Chapter 10

  L orenzo di Medici smiled at Amir ibn Jem as they sat together in a small chamber in the Palazzo della Signoria. “I trust you are finding your quarters comfortable,” he said in a deceptively mild tone. He sipped at the wine in his goblet, noting that his guest did not. He could see his friend was not pleased at all by his imprisonment.

  Amir laughed drily. “My apartment is better than a cell in the Bargello below,” he answered his host. “The last thing I seem to remember was being at your dinner table, Lorenzo. It was an excellent meal, as I recall. Can you tell me now why I am here? I do thank you for seeing that Krikor was brought to me.”

  “I have written to your grandfather asking that he recall you, Amir,” Lorenzo di Medici said quietly. “I regret having to do this, but your behavior of late has brought you to this state. Since it will be some weeks before I will receive a reply and you cannot be left to wander freely, I have seen to your incarceration during this interim. It is for your safety as much as anything else.”

  “My behavior? I only come to the city for the purpose of doing business, Lorenzo, and I rarely socialize with anyone whom I might have offended.” Then the truth dawned on him. Amir gave his host a rueful smile. “This will be about my involvement with a certain lady, Lorenzo, will it not?”

  His companion smiled and nodded. “How discreet of you not to mention her by name, my old friend. Yes, it is about the lady.”

  “Your walls have a tendency to absorb interesting bits of information, and then repeat them to any who would listen,” the prince replied with a small smile. “However, my intentions towards the lady are honorable. I wish her to be my wife. I love her, and she loves me.”

  “Are you prepared to convert to the one truth faith, then, Amir?” Lorenzo di Medici asked, knowing the answer in advance. “You are an infidel, and as such will never be allowed to wed the lady in question. I’m sorry, but that is the truth of the matter, and surely you are sensible enough to understand that.”

  “I would allow her to keep her own religion, as my ancestor Sultan Orkhan allowed his Byzantine princess wife to keep hers,” Amir said.

  “The Greek church is a schism of the Holy Mother’s Church, my good and dear friend,” Lorenzo di Medici explained. “Here in the West, that princess was considered no more than your ancestor’s concubine. If you wed your lady love, she would be considered as such, and her loving family would disown her. She could never again see them. She would be dead to them. Is that what you want for her?”

  Amir was suddenly afraid for Bianca. “Where is she?” he demanded to know. “Is she all right? What has been done with her?”

  “No harm has nor will come to her,” the di Medici reassured his companion. “I have sent my own soldiers and a household official down to Luce Stellare to bring her back to her family here in Florence. The villa is to be shut up, the servants paid for a year and sent back to their own village. Her family will make her see the wisdom of their decisions. They will make another—a better—marriage for her. There is no harm done here. The lady was a widow, not a virgin. If there is no fruit of your entanglement, and that will be known quickly enough, then she will leave Florence sooner rather than later to become another man’s wife. As for you, Amir, you will remain here in the Palazzo della Signoria awaiting the sultan’s orders to return home to your own land.” He drank deeply from his goblet, then continued.

  “I regret having to do this, but I am told that shortly there would have been a vessel anchored off the coast opposite your own villa come to take you and the lady back to your own home there. You understand that we could not allow you to abscond with the daughter of a respected Florentine house. Such a scandal could have endangered the chances of the lady’s other sisters marrying into the right families. So here you must remain, awaiting your grandfather’s orders to return home. I hope he will not be too angry with you, but I have been given to understand you are one of his favorite grandsons, so perhaps this will not put you entirely out of his favor.”

  “A favor, Lorenzo,” Amir said. “Will you allow my slave, Krikor, to return to my villa to fetch my dog? I am particularly fond of that hound. I raised him from a puppy, and he came with me from Turkey. I should like to have him when I return home.”

  “Of course, of course,” Lorenzo di Medici said, understanding. A man’s favorite dog was a part of him. “The slave may come and go freely, even if you cannot. You may desire a courtesan to come and visit you. It is quite permissible. I am told you are most popular among these ladies. Warn Krikor, however, that he is not to attempt to contact the lady we have so carefully shielded from gossip this day, my friend. If he is caught he will be severely beaten. I cannot be defied in this matter.”

  “I understand,” Amir said. “I value him too much in one piece to endanger him.”

  Lorenzo di Medici stood up. “Then I shall leave you,” he said.

  “What? You will not give me an opportunity to beat you in chess?” Amir asked.

  Lorenzo di Medici chuckled. “Another time, old friend. I have sat as long as I can today. I have not yet ridden, and you know how much I enjoy both the exercise and the outdoors.” He stood up and stretched his long limbs. “Perhaps one day you will ride within the piazza with me. I know you are an active man, and being cooped up here will eventually become frustrating for you.”

  “She can’t be forced into another marriage,” Amir called after his guest.

  Lorenzo di Medici turned. “Eventually she will have no choice,” he said. “You have met her mother, I know. Orianna will have her way sooner than later.” Then he was gone, leaving Prince Amir ibn Jem to consider their conversation. Oh, Signora Pietro d’Angelo would try her best, but he did not believe she would overcome Bianca
’s determination.

  Orianna Pietro d’Angelo was not getting her way in the matter of her eldest daughter. Upon her return, Bianca had refused to speak with her mother, despite the warm and loving welcome her family had given her. She would not eat unless the meal was brought to her chamber, and then she ate only what was necessary to sustain her, making a point of sending back her favorite dainty delicacies that were brought to tempt her. She began to lose weight—and she had never been a full-figured girl to begin with. Her lustrous, long dark hair became dull and lost its healthy sheen.

  Orianna was at her wits’ end. “Why do you refuse to understand that what has been done has been done for your own good?” she demanded of Bianca one day.

  Bianca said nothing. Indeed, her eyes were not even focused on her mother.

  Orianna shrieked with her frustration. “You are an ungrateful girl!”

  Bianca shrugged, then turned and walked away from her mother. It was an act of defiance such as had never been seen in the Pietro d’Angelo household.

  “I will send you to a cloistered nunnery until you come to your senses!” Orianna screamed. “I will give orders for you to be beaten daily, and fed on bread and water!”

  Bianca turned. “Anywhere I do not have to listen to the sound of your harping voice, signora, will be paradise,” she said. They were the first words she had spoken to her mother in the month since she had been brought home.