Votive

by Karen Brooks

  Baroque stood rooted to the spot; he struggled to speak, to explain.

  ‘I do not expect an answer,’ said Katina finally. ‘Not now. But I will have one, Signor.’ She released Baroque from her gaze. Tension fled his body and he stumbled.

  Constantina pulled a bandage from a bag slung over her shoulder and wrapped it around Tallow firmly. Katina aided her. Pulling Tallow’s dress back into place, Constantina rose to her feet.

  ‘She will live. She’s lost a great deal of blood and the wound, as bad as it first appears passes right through her body. But you’re correct, Dante, it missed her heart, thank the gods. I have the right medicines, but I am no longer certain they are enough.’ She glanced at Baroque.

  ‘If what you say is true, and you may be followed, then we have to leave. We must take Tallow into the Limen. At least in there I will have time to try to find the source of this terrible shadow, this force that is destroying her from within.’

  ‘What if you can’t?’ asked Dante.

  ‘Then we are all lost.’

  ‘What about the Doge?’ asked Katina.

  Constantina’s face was hard to read in the dark, but Dante was sure he saw her expression harden. ‘Bring the unbeliever as well.’

  ‘But how? He’s human.’ Dante said.

  ‘Just bring him. He may not be dead, but he’s not exactly alive either. I’m not sure what Tallow has done – her skills are like nothing I’ve sensed before – but he’ll survive a crossing. I’ll make sure of it.’

  ‘And Tallow? Will she?’

  ‘She has to,’ replied Constantina simply. ‘Now, pick her up and place her on my horse.’

  ‘No,’ said Dante.

  They all looked at him in shock.

  ‘I will take her.’

  Constantina studied his face for a moment. ‘Molto bene.’ She turned to Baroque. ‘You, Signor, since you had the foresight to bring the Doge, can help me tie him to my horse.’ Joining Baroque, she placed her bag in the one attached to her saddle. ‘And, since you can’t come with us, you can make yourself useful in Vista Mare.’ She regarded Baroque more carefully. He shifted uncomfortably under her pearly gaze.

  ‘You will be our eyes and ears in Serenissima. Can you return to the Maleovellis?’

  ‘Sì, I think so. For a while. I am very good at feigning ignorance.’

  ‘Bene,’ said Constantina. ‘Learn all you can about what is going on. What their plans are, what the plans of the Serenissian Council are. Great forces are rousing and we’re all being drawn into the whirlpool on this side of the Limen, and within. We need to know what every element is doing before we can understand what’s really at stake and how to act. If we move too soon or in the wrong direction, all could be undone.’

  Baroque’s face broke into a smile. ‘I thought my spying days were over.’

  Katina cocked her head to one side. ‘No. Not yet. You sound pleased.’ She slapped him on the back. ‘Go well, amico mio, be careful.’

  ‘You will be contacted, Baroque,’ said Constantina. ‘I will send my servants – you may leave messages with them too. Katina,’ she said, turning to the Bond Rider. ‘Make sure our tracks are covered. Hide Baroque’s once he goes. We cannot afford to have our involvement discovered. Not until we know why a Bond Rider tried to kill an Estrattore. More importantly, until we learn why he tried or deliberately failed to kill Tallow. We need to find out if he was acting under orders or independently.’

  Katina nodded and helped Baroque sling the Doge onto Constantina’s horse.

  Dante sat in his saddle, his arms wrapped around Tallow, her head resting against his chest. He noted that Constantina insisted the Doge was lashed to the back of her horse. It seemed to amuse her to have the ruler of one of the greatest countries in Vista Mare, one that had ordered her people exiled and killed, flung like a piece of baggage over her mount.

  When he’d finished, Baroque appeared by his side and gripped Dante’s leg. ‘Look after her, Dante.’

  ‘I will.’ Words didn’t seem necessary between them anymore. Dante looked at the older man. ‘Grazie mille, Baroque. For everything.’

  ‘Don’t thank me yet, not until we know Tallow is going to be all right. Those Maleovellis … they, they tried to break her, to mould her into something she never was and was never meant to be. I will never forgive myself if they have succeeded,’ said Baroque quietly. With one more squeeze, he released Dante.

  ‘See you on the other side,’ said Dante to Katina.

  ‘The other side,’ she said and slapped Argento’s rump. The horse neighed, Dante wheeled her round and let her have her head. She knew where she was going. Constantina was close behind him.

  They rode through the trees, towards the glittering wall that rose into the sky – both barrier and haven.

  After all this time, the months of watching Tallow, seeing her feted, admired and, most of all, knowing someone else was able to hold her, love her, she was here. She was where she belonged – in his arms. He’d dreamt of this moment and, despite the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, it still didn’t seem real. He didn’t care about what she’d been, or what she’d done. She was his once more and he would do everything in his power to protect her, to see the prophecy of which Tallow was so central a part come to be. What Constantina sensed, what Baroque whispered, that terrified him. What had happened to her? How could someone who brought so much light into the gloom have darkness in their core? What did that mean? What was Constantina hiding? And who was the Bond Rider who attacked her?

  That Tallow had been so badly hurt, and right before his eyes, had almost crushed him. He’d prayed to his God and to those of the Estrattore to let her live. He had promised them his life for hers – whatever they wanted, so long as she survived. So far, they’d listened. Or had they? Was it already too late? Had something worse than death taken her from him? He longed to kiss the top of her head, but was afraid he would bang his chin against her and cause more hurt. God knows, she’d suffered enough in her short life. Instead, he tightened his arms around her, astonished by how small and frail she felt, this magnificent, golden being. He felt her shift and thought for a second she was trying to get closer to him. With a painful start it occurred to him that even in her semi-conscious state, she was trying to move away.

  Oh, Tallow, my love, I’ll make them pay for this. They’ll all pay.

  In the melee of his thoughts, a face swam into view, crystallising before him. Santo. That day by the Elders’ palazzo. The day he woke to his new life and new responsibilities. The day he became a Bond Rider. Macelleria? Santo had sneered at him. Will you live up to your name and do what needs to be done?

  Dante knew, that for Tallow, he could become anything – even a butcher of men.

  The trees ended and the Limen waited. Shimmering, alluring, dangerous and exciting. Much like Tallow, he thought, as she rested against his chest. The warmth of his feelings pervaded his body, flowing to the ends of his fingers and toes. The sensations were so intense they brought tears to his eyes. He held Tallow tighter. You’ll never escape me again, he promised. Grazie mille, God, gods. Help her. Help us all.

  He remembered what she said before she collapsed. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she’d cried. Did she recognise him? Did she mean that? Why did she say that and to him of all people? He pushed aside the pain her first words had caused to flare and concentrated on breaching the Limen.

  He could hear Constantina behind him. As he shouted the words that would tear the barrier asunder, urging Argento into a canter, a great shudder wracked his body.

  Katina! She was in dreadful danger. Just when he thought what remained of his soul was at peace, that his Bond could now be fulfilled, the Obbligare Doppio told him something else. Before he could reverse his charge, Argento leapt through the Limen, Constantina on their heels.

  One minute, a window opened from the world of time and space and into the grey place where it had no meaning before it closed behind him, swirling and reforming as
if it had never been disturbed.

  Shutting him out.

  ‘NO GOOD LOOKING FOR HIM, he’s far away now.’ Santo nodded in the direction that Baroque had gone over ten minutes ago. Katina’s heart sank. There she was, unarmed and vulnerable, her weapon and horse out of reach by the pledge stone.

  Santo stood in front of Katina. In one hand was his sword, in the other a dirk. His face was twisted in a lopsided grin. He swayed from side to side, ready to attack. Katina registered a mad, unfamiliar glint in his eyes, the position of his weapons. They shone, sharp and deadly, by the fractured light of the moon. She didn’t recognise this being before her; the strange, dangerous energy he exuded.

  ‘I have been wanting this for so long, Katina Maggiore. Ever since I learnt about you and Stefano, ever since I discovered the nature of his shame.’

  ‘Stefano’s shame? What are you talking about?’ Katina’s mind reeled. ‘The only thing Stefano is ashamed of is you.’

  Howling like an animal, Santo ran at her. Katina tried to wrest the sword from his grip, knock the dagger from his hands; but he was a good fighter, a dirty one – even full of vino: even unhinged. She’d seen him and Stefano battle many times. It was part of what drew them together, a love of violence. They broke apart. His knife had sliced her arm. She bled onto the ground.

  Her heart was beating frantically. She had to keep her wits, not panic. She also had to keep Santo talking, try to distract him.

  ‘Why do you say my name like that, Santo? What do you know of the Maggiore?’

  Santo laughed, his lips pulled back to show all his teeth. ‘Me? I know nothing. I care even less. This isn’t about me, this is about Stefano. This is about you and what you have done to him and his casa.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Katina was very confused. ‘Stefano and I have not been together for centuries. And as for his casa, I have done nothing to it … how could I? We are of the same family, it is my house too. I would not harm my own.’

  ‘You really don’t know?’ He crowed at the look of puzzlement on her face and swung at her with the sword. Katina jumped back, the blade narrowly missing her stomach.

  Katina could see Tallow’s blood splattered all over his shirt, her own glued to his knife. It sickened her. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that because of what you are, what you believed, Stefano was forced to pledge to Casa di Nicolotti. You, your blood, your line ruined his life.’

  Katina stared at him in disbelief. ‘How is that even possible? There are hundreds of Maggiore in Serenissima.’ ‘Why my line? It is his too.’

  Again Santo laughed. Katina backed away, increasing the distance between them. ‘You’re wrong as usual, Katina. There’s only one bloodline remaining that tarnishes the fine name of Casa di Maggiore. Only one that is directly linked to the Estrattore. Only one that prevents the Maggiore from ascending to the Dogeship – and they’re all gone. Stefano has long desired to destroy the taint – the pain, the shame. That’s you, Katina.’

  He lunged again. Katina slipped and only just managed to move out of the way. The ground was muddy; the soles of her boots failed to grip. Sweat broke out on her brow. By the gods, he was crazy!

  ‘Pain and shame? Well, you should know all about that, shouldn’t you, Santo Pelleta!’

  Santo gave a harsh laugh. ‘Try and provoke me all you like, Katina. I will kill you when I’m ready. This has nothing to do with my Bond. I’m not bound by your Obbligare Doppio.’

  ‘If that’s so, why have you waited?’ gasped Katina. ‘Why didn’t you or Stefano just kill me in the Limen?’

  ‘Oh, believe me, I tried. Many times I tried to dispatch you. But there was always Debora and Alessandro hovering around or the other Elders and, later, my pathetic excuse for a son. There was even the Estrattore. But now they’re all gone. She’s gone and you’re alone. No-one is here to stop me. Stefano will thank me. They’ll all thank me.’

  ‘But you’ll be killing a Rider, Santo. You’ll be renounced, exiled just as I was.’

  ‘Not if I end the stalemate you caused with your Obbligare Doppio. Not if I kill a Rider who consorts with Estrattore behind the backs of the Elders.’ He laughed at the look on Katina’s face. ‘Sì! I know about that too. No, with your death, I’ll not only be setting Stefano free, but all the Bond Riders.’

  ‘Free? Nothing will set us free, Santo, except the Estrattore. And you tried to kill the one who has the only chance of uniting us all, of having us cooperate the way we used to in the old days.’

  ‘The old days? Who cares about those? They don’t mean anything anymore.’

  ‘Is that what you think, or are you simply parroting Elder Nicolotti … like you always do? Poor, needy Santo. You know you’re an object of pity in Settlement?’

  With a ferocious, guttural growl, he ran at her, thrusting with the knife as he brought the sword down. Katina ducked to one side and spun, coming out under his arm, unharmed. They both stood panting, staring at each other. Feet separated them. Katina’s eyes never left his weapons.

  Santo’s grin widened. ‘Happy now? I lost control. Won’t happen again.’

  ‘Senta, Santo – listen.’ Katina’s voice was harsh in her ears. ‘I know you think you’re doing this for Stefano, but you don’t understand. Even if you want to kill me, there are greater forces at work here. The Obbligare Doppio – it will not allow you. It will stop you …’

  ‘What? Like it stopped me killing Tallow?’ He threw back his head. ‘You fool! Don’t you understand? The Estrattore is dead. Your double bind is meaningless now. All those years you and my son and that useless shrew of a wife of mine worked to protect her were for nothing! It’s over, Katina. Over.’ His sword cut the air. ‘You’re finished.’ With a shout, he raised the sword again and dived towards her.

  ‘Not while I’m alive,’ roared another voice.

  Santo froze mid-swing, pulling up his knife, the sword poised.

  Katina stared, her mouth dropping open. ‘Pillar!’

  Santo began to laugh harder. He lowered his weapons, his face twisting in a range of expressions. ‘Well, well, well. So it is. Pillar. Pietro. Old man. My son,’ he said slowly. ‘You never could get your timing right, could you?’ Contempt hung in the night. ‘You would protect this woman? You would risk your life for her? You would challenge me, your father?’

  ‘My father,’ Pillar repeated. ‘The father who left Mamma and me in poverty, to fend for ourselves while he joined the Bond Riders. The father who never gave us another thought. The father who thinks only of himself and where his next drink is coming from. Sì, I remember you.’ Pillar lifted the axe he’d held by his side, the axe he’d stolen from a woodsman’s cottage after he’d blundered through the marshes, desperately following Dante’s trail.

  Santo looked from the axe to Pillar. He stood up straight, fixed a smile on his face and lowered his sword. ‘What are we doing? You would do battle with me, Pietro? Your own flesh and blood? This is not the Serenissian way. This is not you.’

  Behind Santo, Katina watched, unable to move. Father and son circled each other, their weapons aloft, their faces alike and yet so different. Santo, the father, unlined, his hair dark, his eyes undamaged by years of squinting over hot fat, of extreme temperatures. His body lithe from its time in the Limen. Even affected by alcohol, he moved with a grace and knowingness that his son lacked.

  She looked to Pillar. He’d changed. Weight had fallen from him, leaving him lean and sinewy; he appeared pale and unwell. But within him something burned. Rage, revenge. She was not sure. A long beard hid the lower half of his jaw, disguising the weak chin. His lined cheeks, savaged by sores, had a sharpness and strength she’d not noticed before. If they lacked the skill they required, his long fingers held the axe with determination.

  ‘How would you know what’s me and what isn’t? You don’t know me,’ said Pillar, his voice deep, deadly.

  Santo chuckled. ‘You’re meant to be my son. I know you – you’re like me.’<
br />
  Now it was Pillar’s turn to laugh. ‘I am nothing like you.’

  Faster than Katina expected, Pillar crossed the space between them. He swung the axe hard. Santo feinted to the left and brought the sword down on Pillar’s arm. It sliced through his cape, just missing his flesh.

  Pillar spun round quickly, panting heavily. He now had his back to Katina. He flapped his hand behind him. ‘Go, Katina. Make yourself safe.’

  ‘Yes!’ cried Santo. ‘Go, Katina. Go Bond Rider. Run while you still can. I will find you and when I do, I will finish you just like I did the Estrattore!’

  ‘What?’ Pillar glanced at Katina briefly before turning to keep Santo at bay. ‘Is that true?’

  ‘Yes, my son. I killed your precious pet. The pet I made sure was handed to you all those years ago on the Old Jinoan Road.’

  ‘But why?’ asked Pillar. Katina could hear the confusion in his voice. ‘If you wanted her dead, why did you give her to me? “For Santo” that Rider said. He threw her to me. I knew you’d sent her. I thought, finally, you trusted me with something precious, important. I believed then that you’d come back, that you’d be proud of me. I defied Mamma. I kept that sweet little girl.’

  ‘Sì, you did. But do you know why I told the Rider to give the baby to you?’ He did not wait for an answer. ‘Because I knew even then that you were so desperate to win my approval, even though I’d been gone for many years, that you would obey anything asked of you in my name. That you would risk your life and Quinn’s. That you would take an Estrattore. And I was right. You did. You did very well, Pietro. You did what Papa told you. Only it was never for me. It was for the Bond Riders.’

  Pillar did not speak. His shoulders seemed to slump with the burden of this new knowledge. He’d been used. Like his father had used him and Quinn when he lived with them. No wonder Quinn had been … the way she was. Santo kept circling. Now his back was to Katina. Both men were between her and the pledge stone. She couldn’t get to her weapon without Santo seeing. She bent down slowly and, without taking her eyes off them, felt for a rock, a branch, something to help Pillar.