Chapter VI
"Wow, that is quite a tale," said our American friend later.
The two of us chuckled. The insanity of our last moments in Paris was still a little overwhelming. I leaned forward. "And now what do we do? Do you know anything about this Fuchs?"
Jacob shook his head. "Sorry. I can't help you there, but I'd assume it's likely that you'll be followed, even to Rome."
Logan scoffed. "I've told you. There's no way they could find us. I meant it earlier. It'd take a divine miracle. They only know my name, not Nathaniel's. They don't know where we'll be staying. We have at least a half-day's head start on them. They can't simply abandon their lives to come chase us down. Besides, how important could that one man be?"
The American smiled, spreading his hands. "Those are pretty convincing reasons. But what about the telegraph? A rather nice invention all told. It lets a person in one city contact another person with relative ease. Perhaps your . . . friends have other friends in Rome. Perhaps those men might take offense to Fuchs' death as well. Perhaps they'll even be waiting on the platform when we step off this very train! I wouldn't put anything past these men. From what you say, they sound altogether dangerous and impulsive."
"Well, since they stole our luggage, ransacked our rooms, and nearly captured us as we sprinted to catch a train . . . you might say that," I pointed out dryly.
Logan sighed and began reaching into his waistcoat. "No amount of talking will fix this problem, and all this chatter is making me nervous. Anyone for whist?" He withdrew a crisp deck of cards as he spoke.
Jacob groaned. "Oh, you Englishmen and your whist. Every time that infernal game arises, I lose enough money to—" Logan cut him off by pulling the man's large luggage trunk down from the overhead storage. It thumped as he dragged it to the floor, and my friend spread out the cards, cutting off all other protests.
We lost ourselves in the game for several hours, and as promised, Jacob turned out to be a terrible player. At his insistent behest, we tried American poker next. Perhaps skill in cards is directly related to what game you play, because the man simply fleeced us.
Outside, the French countryside continued to stream past us. Gentle, rolling fields were filled with farmers and their families all hard at work. Little villages disappeared in a flash as we raced by them. Once in awhile, the train would slow and finally stop as others joined our voyage or departed in turn.
We eventually left the green valleys of France and began climbing upwards. I marveled at the engineering of our world. The Alps, once unconquerable to all but Hannibal and Napoleon, now could be crossed with relative ease. Blinding snow whipped around us as the train heaved itself up the mountain. I could almost see the steam billowing from the engine and hear the wheels churning up the slope. We wound ourselves around the peaks and within our compartment, the chill of winter was descending. Even in May, these great spires refused to shed their white, adorning mantles.
Then, finally, we were through the Alps. I would never forget the cold, majestic wonder that waited amongst those stone giants. Then a new type of beauty wandered past us. The Italian countryside was, perhaps, even more beautiful and captivating than the lands of France. Olive trees grew in neat, cultivated groves, and quaint villas dotted the landscape. Horses roamed the fields, neighing to the wind. It was a magnificent sight.
Within the train the three of us talked on and on, as if we were old friends newly reunited. We found that despite his past and melancholy burden, Jacob Douglas was an energetic, eccentric, and fast friend. Of course we invited him to continue his wanderings with us.
"I would be honored. Besides, I think someone needs to keep track of you two, given your start in Paris."
"That, and you'll be wanting to get your whist money back," Logan quipped.
"If I recall correctly," huffed Jacob, "You two lost all of that back to me in poker." He patted his pockets with a wink. He continued. "Now, what did our young Englishmen have in mind for the wonderful city of Rome?"
"We can stay as long as we want. Besides, there's no lack of things to do in the city. Thousands of years of history have been stacked up. The Romans, the Catholics, and the Medicis have tripped over each other, building by building for time untold. There's bound to be hundreds, or thousands, of places in which to lose ourselves."
Logan looked at me, something clouding his face. "You're right of course. But, I think what we saw in Paris will be here too."
Jacob looked back and forth. "And what is this?"
"We viewed Louis Philippe's exhibition of Versailles." I paused, collecting my words. "To say it was impressive would be an understatement in the extreme. The sheer glory and overpowering weatlh of the place took our breath away."
"It also took away our innocence," whispered Logan. "For hundreds of years, the French kings lived in a palace to rival Olympus. All the while, the French people starved and bled out for the nobles' whims. The Revolution doesn't matter anymore; France is back to her old ways, and the two of us are part of it."
The American raised a solitary eyebrow. "And how do you figure that?"
I spoke up this time. "We're part of the problem because we represent the nobility. Our families don't work."
Logan jumped in. "While we aren't nearly as bad as the Bourbons, we still drain the work force with our idleness. I'd never thought about it that way. I don't think many nobles have; the idea's pretty radical, isn't it? Regardless, we were voicing these thoughts at a cafe in Paris, and that's what caused the duel. That man, Fuchs, took offense to our ignoble sentiments. He tried to correct us. I punched the bastard, and then we fought. Remarkable train of events really."
"Remarkable you didn't get your bloody head shot off," I whispered dryly.
Logan looked at me. "Pardon?"
"Oh, nothing, nothing," I said smiling.
Through all of this Jacob waited, a vein marking the pulse in his neck. He seemed at once stressed and nonplussed. He started to speak but coughed, recovered his voice, and began again. "And what will you do then?"
I shrugged. Logan sighed. "That's just it!" my friend exclaimed. "We've nothing really to do. It's not as if we could simply cancel our trip and return home. But at the same time, the moment is ripe for change. Did you see that article in Le Moniteur about the rioting? A few weeks back, the gendarmes tried breaking up a riot and received some resistance."
"I did see it! About that poor student?"
"And murderer," I added.
Logan continued. "Anyway, people are angry, and rightfully so. Maybe we could help them. As a noble, I think I have some pull."
"In England perhaps, but not in France and certainly not in Rome. You'll be respected, but that's all. When the two of you return home maybe you could work towards something there?" said Jacob.
We chatted endlessly over the issue without really coming to any definite conclusion. We had a problem but no solution. For the time being, we resolved to be kind towards those poor whom we would meet and better their position any way we saw fitting.
In the meanwhile our locomotive continued on its journey, unaware of the intense moral quandaries of its passengers. The gentle hills and expansive vistas of the countryside were being replaced. Now, feats of engineering, both ancient and modern, were racing by the compartment window. At last, the train slowed, belching steam in protest, and it slipped into the station.
Descending the train, Logan stretched his legs. He bobbed up and down, arching his back. "Ah, Rome!" he cried, spreading his arms wide.
I followed him onto the platform, my own limbs tired and unresponsive. Jacob leapt to the ground, beaming.
"Someone's found a bit of energy," I said.
The American's grin widened even further. "Welcome to the most holy, inspiring, and magnificent city of Europe, my friends. Our plans? I feel something auspicious is in order."
"First, a calming drink before your enthusiasm becomes contagious." I laughed, slapping him on the back.
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"Then, lodgings of course," spoke Logan. "We've several business contacts from which to gain a line of credit. Given our Parisian friends' escapades, we're a bit under-provisioned."
I laughed. "I suppose you might say that."
Around us, people milled about. Many were rushing to various appointments, while others ambled, their voices chattering. Logan turned towards the others and made to speak, but Jacob held up a finger, his eyes tracking something we couldn't see.
Wheeling about, Logan followed the American's gaze and swore. "You don't think . . ."
"I think subtlety is foreign to them, all things considered," Jacob replied.
"What is it?" I said, not following the conversation.
Logan physically turned me, and I noticed how very nice the cross-emblazoned diamond medallions were on a trio of bowler-hats. The three men, thick-set and shifting through the crowd, hadn't seen us yet, or so I surmised. They weren't running towards us, weapons drawn.
"What is with these men?" Logan pined.
Jacob grinned. "I think the bullet you put through Fuchs just might have something to do with it all."
"Thank you for your brilliant observation."
Jacob bowed, his enormous smirk hiding his entire face.
"Not to distract the two of you from your lovely banter, but three men with every intention of murdering us are wandering this way. Perhaps it would behoove us to leave?" I said.
Jacob's trunk was forgotten as we hurried from the scene. It could be reclaimed from the stationmaster later. If we lived.
Our fortune held, and our opponents missed our departure. For our part, the situation was once again perplexing and troubling. This group was persistent if nothing else, and given their presence in two countries thus far, it was safe to assume they possessed ample resources. Besides their obvious anger, admirable drive, and extensive reach, the gang's very actions were maddening. Duels of honor were contained affairs. Although vendettas were not uncommon, most duels went unaccompanied by rampant bloodshed; two opponents fought, and that was that. To be chased through the streets, over train platforms, and across borders by these determined men was downright outrageous.
"Blasted telegraph," Logan exclaimed hotly as we rounded yet another street-corner in our escape.
I nodded. "That does seem the most likely culprit, doesn't it? A return to England is sounding better and better all the while."
"What gives either of you any hope that these villains won't simply follow you there as well? They've been most accommodating in keeping track of your travels thus far." Jacob laughed. "So much for your miracle."
We slowed our pace, certain of our success in eluding the men, before I answered. "It doesn't matter. We're safe for the moment, and if we lose them in Rome, they've no knowledge of our next city."
"A nice point, but all the same, we need to be on our guard." All nodded at Logan's suggestion and we strolled along, our pace relaxed once more.
Around us, the city continued to move and breath, almost like a creature, a vast thriving beast of wonder and sadness. As with Paris, we couldn't help but notice the squalor some lived in. Even here, the Christian capital of Europe, beggars waited in the dirt, misery embodied. Young boys, their eyes sightless, pleaded for a few small coins as they stumbled about.
"I've heard many young boys blind themselves or their friends," said Jacob. "You get more pity when you're crippled like that." I shuddered but couldn't argue with the logic, cold as it was.
We were, for the moment, about as poor as them. Aside from some petty cash, none of us had any anything of value. So, the first order of business was to meet with Logan's father's contacts in the city. To keep out of our pursuers' hands, we'd need a line of credit and soon. William Harling, Logan's father, had accrued many wealthy friends throughout the civilized world in his youth, and there was little chance that they would deny us the money we sought.
We flagged down a carriage and made our way towards the richest of the viscount's friends, a Mister Adriano Di Luca. Although Logan remembered his name, his address had been lost in our abandoned trunk. Finding Di Luca's home proved long and difficult, but after some time and several rounds of asking for directions, our driver came to the place. Pulling up to his sumptuous townhome, we marveled at the ornate gate blocking the outside world. Looming above us was an antiquated home. Fluted columns surrounded the facade, and a slight footman dashed down the wide stairs leading towards the front gate.
The swift patters of his feet and welcoming but official smile greeted us as we descended from and paid for the hired carriage. As the wheels of that vehicle clipped down the cobblestones, we explained our connection to Di Luca and were ushered inside by the footman. Entering the home, we were instructed to wait in the vast foyer as the little man ran up the stairs to find his master.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Jacob voiced, his tone an admiring whisper.
"The Italians have had a long history of admirable engineering," I answered.
"Logan, my boy!" A booming voice, speaking in Italian, ended our conversation as the shout echoed through the foyer. Surprised, we looked up. Descending the winding staircase was a massive mountain of a man. To call him corpulent would be an injustice. His great belly bulged, bending and swaying as he lumbered over each step. I was in great fear that the buttons on his tunic would simply burst, so great was the pressure exerted upon them.
"Logan, Logan!" he cried once more as he reached us. "You look just like your father!" My friend attempted to bow formally and shake hands with Di Luca, but the larger man would have none of that. He simply wrapped his great girth around Logan in a warm, fatherly embrace. I could see Logan's quizzical expression as he was released from the folds of our host.
"Sir, thank you most kindly for your hospitality."
The great man waved his paw. "It's no trouble, my boy. I'd be ashamed to ignore the son of a friend." He coughed. "Your father William saved my life once. Not physically of course, it'd take several strong men and a healthy ox for that." Di Luca slapped Logan violently on the back while the three of us chuckled awkwardly at the quip.
"No, no," he continued. "I was shipwrecked and destitute on the shores of your England decades ago. My fortune was gone with my sunken cargo, and I had nothing, nothing to my name. The Viscount of Harling stumbled upon me and took pity on the vagabond that I was. The man, generous beyond measure, drew money from his personal accounts and offered them, without stipulations or hesitations, to me. I tell you lads, I was stunned."
He clapped Logan again, this time on the shoulder and nearly knocked the lad over. "So of course I am honored to host the son of a great man and invaluable friend. It's just such a shock to see you here! I had no warning that you would be coming to Rome. What is the occasion?"
Logan smiled sheepishly. "Well sir, my companions and I are on our Grand Tour, and—"
"Oh heavens me!" Di Luca interrupted, turning to Jacob and I. "I've been such a boor. Please forgive me gentlemen." He offered a slight bow, his stomach collapsing in on itself at the movement. "You've heard my name of course, but I do not have the honor of yours."
I offered my own bow in return and wrung the man's beefy hand. "Thank you sir. My name is Nathaniel Fletcher. Like you and William, Logan and I have been friends since childhood. I was honored to accompany my companion and ensure he stays out of trouble." I winked, and Di Luca guffawed.
Next, Jacob offered his own greeting. "An American," cooed Di Luca. "I've met few men of your country, but they always promise great entertainment and pure friendship. It is wonderful to make your acquaintance, all of you."
Next, he suddenly clapped his hands in a flourish. Jacob started at the sound, while Logan and I laughed at the spectacle. Immediately, servants rushed into the room. Many carried platters of fresh fruit, pitchers of cooled water and luxurious wines. The maelstrom wove around us as the valets constructed an impromptu feast and table setting amid the expansive foyer.
Di Lu
ca offered a warm smile in our direction. "Now then, perhaps a repast while we discuss things, eh?" Then, without further adieu, he lowered himself into the nearest seat and began selecting delicacies from the piles around him. As the servants disappeared from the room, we also took our seats and began enjoying the wondrous delights before us.
After eating the food for several minutes in contented silence, our host looked us over. "Now gentlemen, what service can I do for you?"
I smiled, demurring to Logan. Noting my insistent glance, he launched into our tale of woe. "And so, our bags are gone, and we have no money of which to speak," my friend concluded.
"Ha!" cried Di Luca. "Ha! Adventurous trip indeed! My lads, you best be careful. Now, hmm." He paused, stroking his chin. "The money of course is no issue. I can lend or give you however much you need. My own fortunes have fared better since that shipwreck of my youth. On the other hand, these men have proven rather insistent. I can do another service for you. I have several acquaintances of a . . . lower sort. They often provide me with helpful information, and I pay well to be well informed. Will you allow me to inquire as to this strange gang with their singular hats?"
I smiled. "Thank you sir. You are most kind, and any assistance you offer, we won't refuse." My companions reiterated my compliments, and the larger man again waved dismissively.
"Believe me," he said. "When you have reached the end of your will, as I had those years ago, a helping friend is worth far more than gold. I am more than happy to assist this time around."
Again, silence enveloped the table as we sampled various treats: golden apples and crusty pastries that flaked apart in your mouth. The variations present were simply fantastic, and the three of us began to forget about silver-diamond hats, breathless escapes, and capers in the night. Finally, the footman we glimpsed upon arrival bustled into the room, his pattering feet carrying him along. He marched straight towards his employer, bent delicately, and whispered something into the large man's ear. With a snort of surprise, Di Luca thumped the table with his fist.
"Good heavens!" he cried. "My most sincere apologies gentleman! I am late, so very late." His face twitched, and a bead of sweat dribbled down the folds of his neck. "I was scheduled to receive measurements for new attire nearly an hour ago. Your visit took me by such surprise that I quite forgot about it."
We made to stand, but the man motioned us back into our seats. "No, no. You've had no end of adventures these few days. Eat and rest as much as you'd like. In fact, I would be most honored to continue to serve as your host. We've plenty of rooms to spare, and an old bachelor has little company this time of year. Your presence would be most welcome."
Jacob nodded his thanks. "If there's no opposition from the others, we would love to accept."
"Wonderful! Most wonderful. Sebastian will show you to your rooms shortly. With your troubles, do you have any luggage?" His voice wavered in embarrassment for our predicament.
"For Nathaniel and I, sadly no," said Logan. "But Jacob does. We abandoned it at the train station. I'm certain it's been collected by the station's employees by now. It shouldn't be any trouble to retrieve it."
"Of course, of course. I'll send some of my staff to fetch it right away. In the meantime, we must get you three settled in, and I'll introduce you to my tailor; he does excellent work. He's preparing a simply wonderful suit for the ball this Thursday, and I—" The man broke off his sentence, a large smile engulfing his face. "You must come! You've heard of the Medicis before, I'm sure. Their power's been reduced now, of course, but they still manage to offer the best of parties. And procuring an invitation for you three would be a trifle. I've been friends with the family for decades. They'd never dream of refusing me of anything! And heaven knows they have enough room in their manor. You simply must attend. Think of the fun." He almost begged then, and I wondered if the man grew lonely in his luxurious, empty home. He had certainly grown attached to us in a hurry. But, no matter. He was welcoming, and the three of us accepted the offer.
The rest of the day was a flurry of activity. Di Luca raced our group across the city and to all the finest shops. We needed new outfits, ceremonial swords and new pistols, shoes, and masks. Finally, we arrived back at the home, exhausted but content and entertained. Shown to our rooms by Sebastian, the valet, we sank into massive armchairs by a small fireplace. We chatted about our change in fortune and let Di Luca's brandy remove all doubts and cares. Surely, we would soon learn our assailants' identities. Then, sufficient efforts could be made to put an end to the madness.
With these thoughts building up our courage, we disrobed and collapsed into our beds, drifting off into the most wonderful, dreamless sleep.
The Faith: Book I of the Uprising Trilogy Page 9