The Execution (38 page)

Ravan flexed again.

LanCoste moved, ever so slightly, but
caught the eye of his younger friend.

Ravan forced himself to steady his
voice, “I am at your service. I will not fail you.” Then he stared
acridly into the small eyes of his proprietor. “LanCoste stays
or—this will not go well.” The intention of his statement was quite
clear to all present.

Adorno seemed thoughtful, as though he
weighed his options, rubbing the satin of his gloved hand slowly
across his hairless chin. He was accustomed to having his way, but
possibly remembered the hideous sight of Ravan with the decapitated
head entangled in his fingers. It was not likely that Adorno wished
to be Ravan’s next trophy. He shrewdly seemed to recall the risk he
was under, from those traitors who would kill him, and from this
one—who very well could kill him. He curbed his mood and snorted.
“Oh very well, but keep the beast away from me…he’s
repulsive.”

Ravan clenched his fists, angered that
Adorno spoke of LanCoste as though the giant were not even present.
Even so, he only replied, “As you wish.”

“
As you wish—your
highness,” Adorno corrected him.

At odds with the correction, Ravan
tilted his head. His weight shifted forward, as though he would
step towards Adorno. Adorno must have sensed it as well, for he
involuntarily stepped backward, his eyes suddenly wide.

It was a long, tortuous moment as
Ravan paused and leaned his head back, his eyes narrowing. His
mouth parted a bit but no words came from it, only the faintest
hint of a snarl began to escape.

Then, uncharacteristically, LanCoste
stepped forward, perhaps recognizing that Ravan could only be
pushed so far. The Giant knew him well and sensed his limit was
dangerously close. Ravan feared nothing, least of all, death. His
body was a map of scars from ‘close calls’.

LanCoste answered for him, “Your
highness—as you wish,” the giant’s voice rumbled. The matted
tendrils of his beard hair swayed as he grabbed Ravan by the arm,
steering him gently backwards in the direction of the
door.

It was a treacherous beginning and
Adorno doubtless had no idea how much so.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE

†

D’ata paused to scan the horizon
behind them. He squinted, almost sure he'd seen someone, but when
nothing showed itself, he resigned himself to the notion that they
were momentarily safe.

They’d finally reached the river and
had been following it for about two hours, looking for a place to
cross. Evening was approaching, chilly and gray. Julianne was
fatigued, dozing intermittently as she sat the horse.

D’ata glanced back frequently to check
on her. He saw her head occasionally bob and worried that she would
tumble from the animal. They were nearly out of food, and D’ata
knew they must soon stop to rest and eat. She'd been stubborn,
insisting they press on. He loved this about her, her fierce
determination, but he also feared for her as their exodus had been
grueling. D’ata felt the fatigue between his shoulder blades and
knew that Julianne must be close to exhaustion.

She refused to acknowledge this, her
strong contention that she was ‘fine’ dismissing his
concerns.

They’d traveled for over a month now,
staying away from human contact. They slept in the forests, laying
on the saddle blanket, holding each other as they snatched sleep
whenever they could. These were moments of terrible and wonderful
re-acquaintance. They clutched at each other, warmed by their love
and their passion, fueled by their fear and unwavering
resolve.

It was cold, and their food rations
were scant. D’ata was occasionally able to barter work for food,
and when desperate, he would steal. Yesterday, he’d taken some meat
and grain from a smokehouse alongside a pig farm, but even that was
now nearly gone.

None of this mattered though. It was a
beautiful thing to behold, the two of them reunited. The love they
held for each other was a pure and holy thing, untarnished by
hatred or resentment. They held no bitterness towards their
families or the way the world refused to accept them. Even as they
walked on, D’ata halted the horse, taking the time to remove from
their path a tortoise lest the horse step on it. Such was their
love for each other—kind, compassionate, and blissfully
happy.

Across the river, was the Territory of
Naples. It was there that they planned their escape. Eventually,
they wished to head south, to more temperate lands. Sicily,
perhaps, and the warm waters off Gaeta. Then, they might secure a
tiny slice of paradise somewhere, somehow, and live isolated from
the rest of the world. Living in obscurity would mean they could
raise their baby and be together.

They talked of how they would grow old
together and watch time create a mockery of their bodies as their
love deepened into something more beautiful than any tangible thing
on earth. This appealed immensely to them both, and they asked the
help of no one, only that the world might ignore them and allow
them their happy oblivion.

D’ata sighed as a happy smile tugged
at his young face. They had essentially nothing to their names,
other than the horse and the clothes they wore. Except for the
concern of their possible capture, he’d never experienced such
happiness. It was then, as he glanced up and back at Julianne, that
he saw the horses and riders on the horizon.

“
Julianne, wake up my
love—quick now.” He tried to sound calm. Julianne jerked awake as
D’ata shook her knee gently.

D’ata was not certain they'd been
seen, but it would not be long before the riders would overcome
them. Across the river, the forest was thick and flush to the bank.
If they could somehow find a way across, chances were good they
could hide in the forest. It would be harder for the men to track
them in the dense foliage. They could even abandon the horse and
continue on foot. D’ata did not see dogs, and that was in their
favor.

“
What is it, my love?”
Julianne reached for him.

“
No—stay on the horse.” He
urgently handed her the reins, “They’ve come for us.”

“
No!” Julianne looked
back, scanning the horizon for the awful threat. “I don’t see
anything!”

“
They’re there, I saw
them,” he whispered.

“
What will we do?” Her
eyes brimmed with tears. “I will not be separated from you again! I
won’t! Do you hear me? I won’t!”

“
We won’t—I won’t allow
it. Try not to worry. We’ll get away, but you must listen to me.”
He tried to maintain calm for her, but there was a dreadful urgency
to him.

She nodded and wiped the tears from
her eyes with her sleeve. “Tell me what to do.”

“
We must cross the river.”
Stepping upon a fallen tree, D’ata slid onto the horse behind
Julianne. He urged the gelding along at a better clip.

“
Oh, D’ata, not so fast,
it makes the baby shake so!”

He reached around her belly to try to
support the weight for her, but continued to push the horse faster.
He knew their chances were not good. If they were caught, Julianne
would be outcast forever and he would be sent away, possibly for
execution by the church.

Half an hour later, the river still
roiled and they still had no access. The men drew closer. D’ata
could hear their voices in the distance, and now he feared that
they’d been seen.

“
D’ata, I don’t know how
well I can swim. I have never been a very good swimmer—and my
gowns...”

“
No, perhaps you cannot,
but the horse can. You just have to hold on.” He looked behind
again, as he spoke.

“
But, what of you? Can he
carry both of us?”

“
Don’t worry about me. I
am a strong swimmer,” He tried to smile. “I’ll make it fine and
catch up with you in the forest.”

“
How will you know where I
am?” Tears threatened again, and she tried to be brave. “What if we
are separated?”

“
Trust God, my love. I
found you once and I will find you again. I will know where and
how.” He hugged her briefly, desperately afraid to let
go.

“
They won’t chase us into
Naples—If we are separated, go there. We just have to cross the
river.” He lacked faith in his own argument.

Julianne hung her head, her words came
out as a whisper, “And if God disapproves?” The tears fell from her
face onto his hand.

He turned her face gently toward him,
“Then, there is no God.” D’ata kissed her cheek tenderly, his lips
warm against the cold of her tear-streaked skin,

Glancing back one more time, he urged,
“Now we must cross.” He slid from the animal’s back and handed her
the reins, then led the animal to the water’s edge. The river was
swollen from the autumn rains, and cold. It was deeper and wider
now, but not so fast. This was the best place to cross. The water
was a murky brown and as D’ata stepped into it, he could not see
the bottom, even in the shallows.

“
If you fall off or the
horse panics, slide off his back and grab hold of his tail. He will
tow you across just fine.”

“
And you?” Her quivering
voice betrayed her worry.

He looked up urgently as he peeled out
of his jacket and shirt. Trying to downplay her concern, he
attempted to put forth his best sense of security. “I swim like a
fish.”

She tried to display confidence as
well. “D’ata—no matter what happens, I am not sorry. Do you hear?
I’m not sorry for any of what we have.”

“
Don’t talk like
that—we’ll be fine! His did not mention his other fear, the cold.
The water’s temperature would pull the warmth from them almost
immediately. They would have to get somewhere safe as fast as they
could and build a fire.

“
Now hurry, my little sea
maiden—across with you.” He refused to acknowledge his greatest
concern, that they would make the swim just fine to be captured on
the other side. He knew the gelding was strong and would carry
Julianne easily across, but he could hear the men closing in on
them. His intent, if it came down to it, was to allow his own
capture and give Julianne the chance to escape.

As the horse first entered the river,
it pawed nervously at the water. Julianne shivered as the frothy
spray drenched her legs. D’ata calmly urged the animal deeper into
the water. “Get on there fellow, there’s a good boy.”

It was a steady beast and calmed at
the human’s voice, obediently working its way deeper into the
river.

“
Hold tight my love, but
let his head free once he loses footing and begins to swim. Grab
onto his mane and let your body be towed freely,” he encouraged
Julianne. And when you make the other side, do not wait for
me.”

“
But–”

He didn’t let her finish,
“Don’t...wait for me. Do you understand?”

* * *

Julianne nodded, bravely urging the
horse deeper into the swirling, muddy water, determined to make the
other side. Her breath caught in her throat as the cold water
advanced, slapping up her legs. Her skirts billowed up around her
with trapped air and she pushed at them to sink them back into the
water. The animal hesitated and tried to turn back. D’ata, at the
head of the animal, now chest deep in the water himself, gently
coaxed the horse deeper until, finally, he released the
bridle.

The horse shook its head but stepped
off into the deeper water, lifting its nose, teeth bared as its
eyes rolled wide. With one tremendous lunge, it lurched into the
swirling depths, pawed viciously and settled quickly into a natural
cadence of swimming.

Julianne almost tumbled from the
animal’s back but clutched at the mane and held on tight, righting
herself. She freed the reins, giving the animal its head for it
seemed immediately intent on reaching the other side and sure
footing. As the body of the animal sank below the water’s surface,
she held fiercely to its mane and the horse towed her easily, its
stride strong and determined. She was amazed at how effortlessly
the animal swam.

Glancing back, Julianne saw D’ata
swimming more slowly behind, being washed further down the river as
he swam. He was strong, but not nearly as powerful as the
horse.

Just then came two horsemen. They
charged over a grassy knoll and galloped down a steep slope and out
across a small shelf of earth. Seemingly unconcerned, they plunged
into the river at a treacherous part, with a small rapid.
Amazingly, they both came out in tact, and one made directly for
D’ata, the other for Julianne.

She urged the horse on, “Come on,
fellow, there’s a good boy,” she clucked softly and the horse’s
ears quivered, satisfied with the encouragement, concentrating upon
its task. It grunted as it swam, blowing froth from its nostrils as
it drew deep breaths. For the first time, she believed they would
make the other side.

Further down the river, one horseman
fast approached D’ata. From the corner of her eye, Julianne saw the
altercation, saw the water turn white as the horse submerged and
then came thrashing to the surface. For a moment, she didn’t see
D’ata, then her heart leapt as she saw the horse swimming across
with D’ata holding firmly to its tail. The attacker was swimming
back to the other shore. She wanted to call out and cheer, but
turned her attention back to the task of making it
across.