DELUGE (25 page)

He grinned and kissed both my cheeks. “Lady Forelli,” he said. “Congratulations. There is nothing but smooth seas before us. You shall be home before you know it.”

“I hope so,” I said, turning to my husband with a smile. But it faded as I noted Luca’s furrowed brow and tense search of those on board before turning his eyes toward the crowd. I stiffened.

“What is it?” I asked under my breath, following his gaze.

“Orazio and Galileo. They were to be here by now. Falito and Baldarino went to fetch them.”

I took a deep breath and continued looking for our cousins in the throngs while smiling and waving as if we were doing nothing more than saying our farewells. Long minutes passed. The doge was onto us, aware that something was awry, that we should’ve cast off already. He turned to say something in the nearest Ducale knight’s ear.

That was when Falito broke through the crowd, red-faced and breathless. Baldarino was right behind him. “They’re gone!” Falito panted. He pointed to the lagoon, to a small ship, her sail full, a Guelph cross flapping in the wind upon her flag. “They have them!”

The Fiorentini.

Since they couldn’t get to us, they’d nabbed the closest Betarrinis they could…

Galileo and Orazio.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

~GABRIELLA~

“Cast off!” Nicolo cried.

“Aye, Captain,” called the sailor nearest the ropes.

Falito and Baldarino jumped aboard, even as the ropes were pulled in from the docks.

“They’ve taken those you pledged would be safe,” Lia called to the doge, appealing to him. After all, he had promised their lives to her in exchange for meeting his challenge. “They’re getting away with them!”

“Not for long,” bit out the older man. He turned to two men beside him. “Three of our fastest ships, after them at once!”

We were moving out already, sliding out of the docks, the crisp, new, creamy sail filling with the morning breeze.

“Lord Forelli! I suggest you remain here while this is resolved!” cried the doge.

“Begging your pardon, Serenissimo,” Marcello called back, after a quick look at me for confirmation. “But when our own are in crisis, it is our way to go to them. We welcome your support, but we shall lead the charge.”

The doge lifted his chin, as if surprised that his suggestion would be ignored, but he nodded once in acquiescence. He understood Marcello, respected him. I was gratified at the thought, that the House Forelli would have such a stance in this powerful man’s mind, but as I turned to face the escaping Fiorentini, growing smaller in the distance, my heart raced. I wanted those naval ships right behind us. We might have a chance of overtaking the Fiorentini, but who knew how many men they carried and how difficult it would be to wrestle away our guys. If we could surround them, convince them that their treachery was hopeless…send them home with their tails tucked between their legs, all the better.

I seethed with anger, that they would sink to such measures. After yesterday, after
everything
, really.

Another sail was unfurled by the five Venetian sailors aboard who would man this ship for us as far as Ancona, and we picked up speed.

“It will be a couple of hours,” the young captain said, “before we overtake them. But overtake them we will.” His lips clamped with the pledge.

I looked back. Behind us were already three ships, sails full, Venezia’s lion on their flags.
It feels good to have lions behind us,
I thought,
She-Wolves though we are.
I don’t know why I was surprised at their speed—their ability to be at sea so quickly. Venezia had the strongest navy anywhere in this age.

The
Sea-Wolf
was fast, but we carried a full load. It took an hour to get close enough to see the men aboard the boat we chased.

“We need to get to them before they get to Rimini!” Luca called to the captain. Rimini, I assumed, was the closest port to Firenze. But they’d have to go overland too—

“We’re utilizing every bit of sail we have,” returned Nicolo.

“What if it’s a trap?” Luca asked Marcello, glancing over at us. “Another attempt at the women?”

Marcello shook his head, hands on hips. He looked heroic, a stray curl blowing in the wind. Strong. “I do not think that is the way of it. But just in case…” He looked to me. “Gabriella, I want you down belowdecks when we finally reach them. And under no circumstance,” he added, lifting a finger to both me and Lia, “do I want either of you without guard.”

I shifted, swallowing my irritation. What was I, five? But I knew his concern was fueled by the attack yesterday, and by my pregnancy. “Agreed,” I said. Did Lia count as a “guard”?

“Look!” Dad cried, facing the Fiorentini ship, a few hundred yards ahead of us. As one, we all turned.

A fight had broken out on board the enemy ship, and a figure plummeted to the water. The man who had fallen overboard flailed in the waves behind the ship for a moment, then disappeared below and did not emerge again. My heart hammered. “Did that man just—?”

“Yes,” Mom murmured, beside me. “So few of them know how to swim. Even the sailors…”

I looked in horror to the swirling water, eddying in rounds of bubbles and waves as we passed. As much as I hated the Fiorentini, hated how they constantly needled us, watching any man die in such a pointless way was horrifying.

Lia cried out, bringing a fisted hand to her mouth, and I looked across the sea again.

We were closer, now. Close enough to see Galileo wrestling with a man, leaning backward over the rail as the Fiorentini knight choked him. I held my breath, as if the man’s hands were around my own neck instead.

“C’mon,
c’mon
…” His attacker arched his back, as if hit, and fell away, and we thought we glimpsed Orazio with a sword.

Lia and I shouted, rooting for them. In that moment, it was as if we were in the fight, as we had been so many times before. And our guys—our future-cousins, what kind of chance did they have? Did Orazio know what to do with that sword? Did they know a little Tai Kwon Do, at least?

And then Galileo was at the rail again, rolling over, all legs and somersaulting—

Lia, Mom and I let out a collective scream.

He emerged behind the Fiorentini ship, and the wrestling on their deck ceased as Orazio was detained before he could leap overboard, too. Two men lifted bows and began shooting at Galileo, now bobbing in the water behind them, swimming toward us. Arrows sliced the water to his right.

“Nay!” cried Mom.

“Evangelia…” growled Luca.

She was already on the move, reaching for her bow and arrow. But the ship was still just a little out of reach. Her first arrow landed ten feet shy of the nearest archer. “Get us closer, Nicolo!” she cried.

The Fiorentini kept shooting at Galileo, but he dived underwater.

“Good man,” muttered Marcello. “Stay out of sight just a little longer…”

But now my brain was practically tearing in two. We had to go after Galileo, try and pick him up. But that meant dropping sail and letting Orazio slip out of sight with the Fiorentini…

“The Venetians shall continue the chase,” Marcello said, as if reading my mind. “We have to fish your cousin from the sea.”

I nodded. It was the only logical choice, really.

Nicolo steered directly toward our cousin, who continued to rise to the surface, take a deep breath of air, and submerge again.

Lia’s next arrow struck the side of the Fiorentini ship and we could hear a man cry out. She hadn’t hit him. But she’d scared him, buying Galileo precious seconds. Both archers backed away from the edge, watching as Lia nocked another arrow. Had they been in the piazza in Venezia? Had they seen what she could do?

She fired. And this one hit a man in the shoulder, making him wheel backward, exposing Orazio, blood on his face, hands tied behind his back. Seeing him wounded, close enough now to make out his panicked expression, made my blood boil again.

“Man in the water, coming fast!” cried a sailor from atop a sail’s crossbeam.

Everyone but I leaned over the edge of the ship, reaching out with hands or ropes or sticks, hoping to grasp Galileo’s hand and fish him from the sea. I backed up to the rear of the boat, looking around for something I could use to help.

“Here he comes!” cried Mom.

The entire ship leaned with the collective weight of everyone on one side.

But the waves were at just the wrong angle. I could see it. See how Galileo was struggling to swim closer, unable to reach for anything we offered him.

One by one, the sailors and my family groaned in a cascade of frustration as we passed him. He was almost out of reach when I grabbed hold of a round of rope that had been used to tie us to the docks and wrenched it over the rail, hoping, hoping, hoping it might reach him.

I leaned over, wincing, as my belly muscles protested the sudden action. But I heard a shout of hope, then another of victory, and turned my head to see my cousin’s hands on the rope, his face rising above the water for air, as the
Sea-Wolf
slowed atop the bobbing waves.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

~EVANGELIA~

The men hauled him in as the Venetians passed us, still in pursuit of the Fiorentini. In the distance, we could see the small port of Rimini, clinging to steep, faded-green hills that plunged into the blue-green sea.

“Gabi,” I said, wrapping an arm around my sister’s back.

“I’m okay,” she said, rising and wiping her brow. “But that was probably more than I ought to have done.”

“I’ll say,” Mom responded, reproving. Gabi had been instructed more than once not to lift anything over twenty pounds. That rope she’d thrown had to be about forty. “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “And it was worth it,” she said with a grin, gesturing to the edge. We all turned as Galileo was hauled aboard, bringing half the Adriatic with him.

“Orazio,” he panted as a puddle spread at his feet. “Orazio!” he cried, going to the rail. He turned crazed, brown eyes on us. “They plan to flay him alive in Firenze’s piazza! We must save him!”

“We will.” Marcello clamped a hand on his shoulder. “The Venetians will overtake them, or at least be right behind them. And we shall be directly behind
them
.”

“Rimini is far more friendly to the Fiorentini than they are to the Sienese,” Luca said, pacing, as the sailors rushed to haul up sail again.

“Yet Rimini bows to Venezia,” Marcello returned. “God has smiled. We shall join in the hunt for Orazio and take down Barbato and Foraboschi, once and for all. This ends today.” He looked at Gabi as if he made this promise to her alone. He was as done with the constant threat from those guys as we were.

“They wouldn’t truly flay him,” I said to Luca, my eyes narrowing in horror.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me a few steps away from Galileo. “To get to what he knows? To elicit a story that would help turn the people more firmly against the She-Wolves? Yes, yes they would. We must get to Orazio and free him first. Send him and his brother home, to
Normandy
. Before they put you and Gabriella at any further risk. You, my love,” he paused to tip up my chin with his knuckle, “must carry on. To Ancona. There you shall find safe passage overland to the castello. And there we shall meet you. With your cousin in hand.”

I looked up at him in dismay. We were separating? Going on alone? And yet I saw that we had little choice. He would send the knights with us to keep us safe, while utilizing the Venetian knights to help him take down the Fiorentini, once and for all.

I grabbed Luca’s hand. “Without Orazio…” I said, looking back to Galileo.

“I understand. Galileo shall be stranded. We’ll bring him home, Lia,” Luca promised.

We were close enough to see people and horses on shore. The docks of the small port were taking shape, and the Fiorentini were moving in far too quickly, with too many sails still hoisted high. Men on the docks were yelling, waving at them. Did they intend to crash ashore?

In shock, we watched as the keel caught and the whole boat turned—like a ballerina on her toe—and then laid down on her side.

“Orazio!” Galileo shouted in panic. Luca and Marcello held him back, worried he might jump out and swim for his brother.

The bottom of the boat blocked us from seeing who survived, who jumped, who was now swimming for shore. But knowing Barbato and Foraboschi, I didn’t doubt they had survived. Rats always survive, it seems. Brief hope lit my heart that in the melee, Orazio might escape. But then we saw them. Four Fiorentini were dragging him along on the beach, waving away the people who came to them thinking they needed assistance of some kind.

The Venetians headed toward the docks, dropping sail, unwilling to scuttle the doge’s ships as the Fiorentini had done with theirs. And we followed suit, dropping sail again to slow our speed for the approach, moving at such an agonizing pace toward the docks that I thought I might scream. Meanwhile, we were forced to watch the action on the beach and alongside the docks like a terrible slow-motion video. They purchased two horses and stole three more at sword point. We saw them load Orazio, bound and bleeding, on one and disappear down the road toward town.

And the dock was still a hundred yards away.

Luca turned toward me and kissed me, holding my face. “Take your sister and parents home. Go only to the castello. Nowhere else. There I will find you. Understood?”

I nodded. There was a new nuance to his tone—a sense of protection, a right to make certain demands—that I could only attribute to our new marriage. “Take close care, love,” I whispered. “Hasten home to us.”

“I want to go with you,” Galileo said to Luca, eyes clouded with fear and fury.

“Nay,” Luca said, nothing in his eyes telling the man he’d consider his argument. “We shall travel faster without you. And if you are recaptured…”

“What if
you
are captured?”

Luca grinned at him. “By a Fiorentini? I think not. They’ve tried many a time before. They shall not gain hold of us this time either. Go to our castello. Rest. We shall bring your brother to you as quickly as we can.”