The Blessed (50 page)

They moved off the doge's ship, glad to be free of the wind and the waves, and said their farewells to the mariners. Vito and Ugo ushered four horses off the deck, prancing in their agitation to be free to move about after the three-day journey. Gianni, armed with the Devenues' loaned coin, would purchase additional horses for the group in order to make the fastest time to Siena.

He looked up. Daylight was fading quickly. It was good that they traveled light, with naught but satchels to tie atop the rumps of the horses. He eyed each person in the group as they walked down the gangplank and onto the dock. Their eyes were wary and weary. Only the children bounded about, as restless as the horses after being confined aboard ship. Roberto jumped up on a crate, then climbed to the next, a bit unstable still on his new leg, but unstoppable. He thought again of Daria's words, her hunger to rest and recuperate and rebuild.
Please Lord,
he prayed silently.
Let us find a way to do all three before the year is out.
He ached for the same—and to give his people, this raggedy family of his, what they all needed.

He walked down the gangplank after Piero. “You left this land a priest in robes. You come back a man in shirt and jerkin. How do you fare?”

Piero turned and smiled. “You can take the priest out of the robe, but you cannot take the priest out of the man.”

Gianni returned his smile and then moved on to his wife. She had planned to get the Gifted to an old family friend's estate, in a small village to the east of Pisa. But they would not make it by nightfall, not with having to purchase supplies and horseflesh. And Gianni refused to travel in anything but full daylight.

She saw it in his eyes before he said anything. “Think we can obtain beds for the night in an inn?”

Gianni nodded. “If we do, and leave at daybreak and push hard, we might make it to Volterra on the morrow, and Siena the following day.”

“All right,” she said. “I'll take the women and children and find us lodging. You men can go and find supplies and horses.”

“I'll send Hasani, Vito, and Ugo with you,” he said. She was not going anywhere without guard.

“Gianni—”

“Daria.”

She sighed. “Very well. I shall send one of the boys to await you here and tell you where we are.”

“Thank you,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed her brow. After so long on her own, and as a woman who commanded others, it still took a lot for her to trust his decisions, to know that he only had her best interests at heart. And when it came to safety with a dragon lurking, Gianni would brook no argument.

THEY spent a restless night at a harbor inn, on dirty mattresses and disturbed by the raucous crowd in the tavern below, so that all were up and ready to go as the morning sun crested the hills to the east. As they had hoped, they made good time and rode hard and encountered no opposition, climbing the high plateau on which Volterra sat and entering her gates just as they prepared to close them for the night.

Volterra was a strong and ancient city, but was a minor force as compared to Siena and Firenze. Still, her walls were sturdy, and high towers guarded her perimeter. Even though they were but a few of thousands spending the night inside her walls, Daria felt safe and satisfied as they gained lodging at another inn, this one a quiet, more stately abode just off the Piazza San Giovanni.
One step closer to home,
she thought, trying to decide between her favorite inns within Siena the next night, or seeking lodging with friends still loyal to her memory. The sights and smells of Volterra made her want to climb back atop her horse—as saddle-sore as she was—and race through the night for home. Merchants with carts full of familiar vegetables, meats, and cheeses rolled by. Daria stopped a few and purchased foodstuffs for the night and morn. There was no telling if this innkeeper cared to feed her guests, and after their long ride, none felt like emerging until morning.

The next day saw them refreshed and their spirits buoyed, with only a day between them and safety, revenge for their slain loved ones, possible remuneration for lost property. In Siena, much might be made right again. At least Daria hoped it was so.

She made her way to the stables, several blocks from the inn, and watched Gianni saddle her horse, reaching under the mare's belly and pulling a strap tight with quick, practiced moves. The grim set of his mouth told her he was still on guard. He caught her eye and tried to smile.

Daria cocked her head and looked up to him. “You are still worried that Abramo and Vincenzo might try to intercept us?”

“The only thing worse than having them about is not having them about,” he said, reaching to caress her cheek. “I do not like it that we have lost track of them.”

“Again, might they not be in Paris as we speak?”

“They might. But I think there is a greater chance that they are nearby. They could have traveled up the Rhône to fool us and hopped the first ship back to Marseilles.”

“Then shall we not purchase the services of several mercenaries to help aid our progress?”

Gianni smiled and turned aside, so she could see beyond him. Twelve knights, bearing the Adimari coat of arms, were mounting behind him. “Courtesy of the Nine,” Gianni said, studying her face.

Marco. Marco had sent them aid.

“Shall I send them away out of jealousy?” he asked.

Daria caught his teasing eye. The captain in him would never allow him to send away men-at-arms when he was so ill at ease. But he asked as her husband. She laid a hand on his chest and looked into his eyes. “Husband, Marco was dear to me, for many years, and we must forge the ways of friendship now. But you are my one true love, the man I shall grow old beside, the man with whom I shall raise our child.”

“Children,” he said, with a sparkle in his eye.

She shot a grin up to him, but his smile was fading. Daria turned to follow his gaze and saw Tessa, moving toward them as if in a daze. “Tess . . .”

The girl looked up at her and shook her head, clearly troubled. “My lady, I loathe to be the bearer of bad news, but I believe Lord Amidei is about.”

Daria turned toward her and took her hands. Surely not. Not when they were so close to home. “Tess, could it be something else?”

Tessa searched the ground before her, eyes going back and forth as if looking for a lost key. She swallowed hard and shook her head, drawing her eyes reluctantly upward to look Daria in the eye. Gianni edged closer, holding his breath. “Nay, it must be. Or one as evil as he. He is not here now, but he has been here recently.”

“You are certain he is not here now,” Gianni confirmed, waving the Gifted nearer. Vito and Ugo came at a trot, Gaspare led Josephine forward, and the rest followed.

Tessa was thinking, feeling, searching. “Nay. He is not here now,” she repeated, “or anywhere close anyway. But he was here.”

“Why did you not sense him last night?” Gianni asked softly.

“I wasn't here, in the stables. I felt the barest whisper of him, but told myself it was a dream, a concern, a memory, not truth.”

Gianni stared at her for a long moment, then eyed the rest of them. “We have no choice but to treat this as God's own warning for us. If Amidei was here, then he is likely ahead of us. His intent shall be to cut us off from Siena, to keep us from reaching the Nine, from testifying against him.” With a cut of his chin, he sent Vito to go and bring the other knights to join them.

In a short time, all were gathered with them. Daria felt as if she were moving through fog, trying to comprehend that there might be yet another encounter with Abramo Amidei ahead of them.
Surely not, Lord,
she cried.
Surely not! Save us, Father! Keep your enemy from our path and preserve us!

Piero moved forward and turned in a slow circle to look each of them in the eye. He understood the collective panic of the women, the concern of the men. “The Lord has seen this day. He has
seen
it. He knows what is to come, and none of it is a surprise to him. Should he allow it, we shall trust it, always praising his name. We do the greatest damage to our enemy by keeping to this path, always praising our God, no matter what we face—trial, trauma, or even death.
Dulcius post tribulationes
.”

“ ‘Sweeter after difficulty,' ” Daria translated.

“Sweeter after difficulty,” Piero returned. “The greater the trial, the more our Lord can triumph. No matter what is ahead of us, we shall not abandon our faith.”

Daria looked to her priest. “If we do not reach Siena, justice shall not be served. We must reach Siena.”

He eyed her calmly. “If we do not reach Siena, God shall have other things for us to accomplish. We must leave justice to the Lord, trusting that when and if it is wise, he shall allow us to take part in his plan. Ultimately, our enemy's fate is in his hands, yes?”

Daria stubbornly said nothing. His words were truth, but she did not have to agree to them. Aloud, anyway.

Piero turned away from Daria and looked to the knights of the Nine. “Well are we thankful for your arrival, good knights. Please know that if our enemy obstructs our passage, if he engages us, his intent shall be to kill every one of us.”

The captain of the twelve, Ruggero, took a step closer and eyed Tessa, the boys, Agata, blind Josephine. “Surely you overstate your case.”

Piero raised his eyebrows and sighed heavily. “I assure you that is incorrect. If we are attacked, you must defend us as if we are all people about to die. There is good cause for the Nine to send twelve of you to watch over us. Our enemy is very real and his intent, deadly. Do you believe this?”

The captain stared at Piero, sizing him up. He undoubtedly saw what Daria did—a small man, with the shaved head of a priest, no chin, small shoulders—but a wisdom behind his eyes that could not be denied. “You have my word that we shall defend you unto death,” he said solemnly.

“I shall have your prayers,” Piero returned, smiling at the captain. “Come, brothers and sisters. Let us huddle here together and ask for God to set his angels before, behind, and beside us, and to get us yet to safety.”

They prayed together, no doubt drawing curious stares from passersby, but ignored them, aware of only their God, his cause, and his intent for their lives.

Afterward, Captain Ruggero drew a hasty map in the hardened mud of the street. “If Amidei is ahead of us, he shall hope to draw us into this valley here,” he said, tapping a segment with his stick.

“Before we cross the pass,” Daria said.

The knight looked up to her. “Indeed.”

It was the main passageway, south of San Gimignano, and the fastest route to Siena. But it was true. From the hills that pervaded the region, it would be easy to lie in wait for them and ambush them. There were frequent patrols that made their way across the road, intent on ridding the area of robbers, but it was notoriously difficult, because of the terrain.

“We could follow the Cecine,” Vito said. “My brother and I know those valleys well. We grew up hunting there.”

Ugo nodded. “We might make Massa Maritima before nightfall.”

“Then approach Siena from the southern route,” said Gianni.

“It is a good plan,” the captain said, cocking his head to one side. “Unless your enemy is aware that you have passed by and gives chase. A group with women and children will quickly be overtaken by men in that rough country.”

Daria waited for Gaspare to notice her stare, the question in her eyes. He nodded.

“We shall pray that our enemy doesn't recognize people of the light, moving in shadow among the mountains. Or at least until we are well past them,” she said with a grin. “And we shall pray that our steeds are fleet of foot, making up any difference in man versus woman or child. You, Ruggero, and your men, are in the company of the Gifted. That means that our God shall go before us, beside us, behind us, and never abandon us, no matter what enemy we face. Now let us be on our way. The sun gains on the horizon.”

“IT is not possible that they were more than three days behind us,” Abramo said, standing beside Ciro and Vincenzo, looking out to a setting sun.

“Mayhap they tarried, celebrating with Les Baux before resuming their journey here.”

“That would put them overland to Marseilles, adding another two days,” Ciro said.

Abramo paced back and forth, hands behind his back, eyeing the horizon again and again. “Send two scouts. One back to Volterra, to Pisa, if necessary, to find out if they have been seen. The other to San Camano.”

Vincenzo stared at him. “You do not believe they would go the southern route. That would add two days!”

Abramo cocked a brow. “If they knew we laid in wait for them, yes. I believe they would.”

Vincenzo shook his head. “That is a treacherous road. Difficult for men, let alone women and children.”

“Again, if it circumvented battle with said women and children, would you not take it yourself?” He paced back and forth, his frustration lessening as a plan formed in his mind. “It is what they have done. I am certain of it. If they passed us, they might have done so within hours. Vincenzo, take eight men and two of my archers and head out. If you find them, send back a rider to tell us, and find the means to get ahead of them, trap them, until we can join you. If they are still a day away, I shall send word to you when and if we encounter them here.”

“But m'lord, darkness is soon upon us.”

“Yes,” Abramo grinned. “Which means they shall soon set up camp and light a fire, making them all the more simple to find.” He stared hard at Vincenzo, daring him to question him further.