The Wind Dancer (2 page)

"Own?"

Andreas's long, broad index finger rubbed at the brass riveting of the gauntlet. "He must
be mine body and soul. I'll not have him running back to you with tales you can sell to
the highest bidder." Andreas smiled. "Of course, I could have him removed after he
finishes his task, but I dislike rewarding good work in that fashion. Not an intelligent way
to proceed."

"I can see that." Caprino's uneasy gaze darted to Vasaro. Rumor had it that Vasaro had
accepted service with Andreas when the condottiere was a boy of seventeen. How had
Andreas managed to hold such a skilled assassin all these years? Did he own him body
and soul as he wished to own the thief? It was something to ponder, for who but Satan
was capable of possessing a demon? "Such men aren't easy to find. How could I--"

"You must know ways." Andreas pulled a purse from his belt and tossed it on the table to
Caprino. "Greed, revenge, a woman. We both know the weapons to bind a man. Use
them."

Caprino opened the pouch and counted the ducats. "A fair price."

"A princely sum for one insignificant thief, as well you know, but a small price for the
soul of a human being."

Caprino smiled. "I'm sure you'll discover shortly whether or not that is so." He paused.
"I'm to keep this?" he asked as he tucked the purse inside his belt. "I'm honored by your
trust."

"I can afford to trust you, Caprino. I know where to find you, if you disappoint me. When
can I expect you to send me the thief I've paid for?"

"I'm not sure." Caprino stood up and edged toward the door. "I must consider and de--"

"Tomorrow." Andreas's tone had not changed, but his smile held the gleam of a feral
creature. "No later than three. I'm an impatient man." His gaze searched Caprino's face.
"You already have someone in mind. Bring him to me."

Caprino was startled. "But, Your Magnificence, I must study and think upon..." He
stopped. How had that whoreson Andreas managed to read him so easily? "I do have
someone in mind who might meet your requirements, but there are difficulties."

"Overcome them."

"I may need many more ducats than this pouch holds in order to do so."

Andreas's lips tightened. "I have an aversion to being preyed upon by the greedy. It
would be wise to remember that."

Caprino lowered his lids to veil his eyes. "I'll not be beggared to obtain what you want.
I'm worthy of my hire."

"If I slip a dagger between his ribs tonight, tomorrow there will be another Caprino in the
streets of Florence," Vasaro said with little inflection. "Perhaps a man less greedy to deal
with, Lion."

Caprino felt a chill quiver through him but carefully kept himself under control. He
nodded. "Tomorrow or the next day or the day after that. I'm not so foolish as to think I'm
irreplaceable. But Your Magnificence is impatient, and I'm the man who can help you
today."

Andreas was silent for a moment during which Caprino tasted the sourness of fear.

Then Andreas made an impatient gesture. "I must see the skill of your light-fingered
villian." He paused. "Tomorrow."

"But it's too soon. I can't--" Caprino stopped. He had gained a valuable concession, and
it would be best not to push too hard at this juncture. "As Your Excellency bids me. I will
move heaven and earth to do as you wish."

"I'll be at the Piazza of San Michele tomorrow at two with another purse containing an
equal number of ducats," Andreas said. "If your thief can claim it from my person, the
purse is yours. If not... " He shrugged. "Then I will be most unhappy with you. So
unhappy they may end up fishing you out of the Arno." He waved a hand of dismissal.
"Good night, Caprino. Why don't you see the gentleman to his home, Lorenzo?"

"It isn't far. I have a house near the piazza." Caprino moved quickly toward the door.
"Good evening, my lords. Until tomorrow."

Andreas smiled mockingly. "Do accompany him, Lorenzo. The streets are so dangerous
for a man with a purse full of ducats."

Andreas was toying with him, Caprino realized with a surge of rage. He turned at the
door and smiled through clenched teeth. "You test whether I'm afraid of Messer Lorenzo?
Well, I do fear him. I'm not a brave man, but it's not courage that's made me what I am.
You might consider who has called the tune this night." His index finger tapped his left
temple. "Up here. That's what counts." He bowed. "As you shall see tomorrow."

The door swung shut behind him, and the breath immediately rushed from Caprino's
lungs in a soft explosion of sound as the tension eased from him. He straightened his
short scarlet cape, meticulously adjusted his velvet cap at the angle he preferred, and
started down the stairs. He gazed appraisingly at the painting of Venus in all her naked
glory on the wall beside the stairs. The painting was new and exceptionally well
executed, but the Venus was not overly beautiful, a circumstance which did not surprise
him. Giulia would never permit anything or anyone to overshadow her own charms in her
own casa.

"Buona sera, Caprino." Giulia Marzo met him at the bottom of the stairs. She smiled
sweetly. "All is well?"

Caprino shifted his cloak to reveal the purse.

She held out her hand palm upward. "A joy to work with you, Caprino."

"Tomorrow," he said as he tried to edge past her.

"Now." Her smile never wavered. "Or I'll tell my lord Andreas you have no intention of
fulfilling your promise to find his thief and even now are hurrying toward the city gates. I
doubt you would ever reach that splendid house paid for by the ducats stolen from your
whores and thieves."

He stopped short and turned to look at her. He should have known Giulia would have
been listening to everything taking place in Andreas's chamber. It was not only the slut's
golden beauty that had caused her to rise from one of his own brothels to own this fine
casa. He reluctantly opened the pouch and pressed five ducats into her palm. "Someday,
when I lose patience with you, I'll have you brought back to me," he said softly. "And I'll
strip you naked and stake you out in an alley and sell that sweet-smelling flesh to every
man who walks by. How do you think your fine lords will like you after a few weeks of
such use?"

"You don't frighten me." She shrugged. "You cannot hurt me, Caprino. I have the
protection of many powerful men here in Florence."

"Like that bastard up there?" Caprino jerked his head in the direction of the door at the
top of the stairs. "Andreas has no power here in Florence. He rules only in Mandara."

"At present." Giulia's gaze lifted to look at the door he'd indicated. "Lion could rule
anywhere. Men such as he are rare."

Caprino's gaze narrowed on her face. "Do I detect a trace of lust, madonna mia?Be
careful, or you'll lose your one weapon in Cupid's battle. A whore must never lust; she
must only be lusted after."

"He doeslust after me," she said fiercely. "For two years he has come to my casa. Never
has he asked for any of the other women, only me." Then as she met Caprino's satisfied
gaze she tried to shrug unconcernedly. "Not that it matters."

"I think it does matter to you." He studied her. "I wonder why? You have the most
peculiar tastes. I find him quite ugly."

"How would you know? I've provided you with too many pretty young boys and
wretched-looking men not to know how peculiar are your tastes, Caprino."

He tucked the purse into his belt and said mockingly, "He's far too rough for my refined
taste. Soldiers can be so crude. But there's another five ducats for you if you find out why
our brave condottiere wishes the services of a thief."

Giulia's gaze returned to the door at the top of the stairs. "I'll consider it. But he's not a
man who babbles to a woman."

"Not even to
la bella
Giulia?" He turned away. "Seven ducats."

He opened the door and strode out into the street.

It had been a good evening's work, he thought contentedly. The stakes Andreas was
hoping to win must be very high to make him yield to Caprino's demands with so little
argument. If he was clever he might be able to milk this situation until it rained even
more gold into his coffers.

He turned at the next corner and instead of proceeding to his own house off the piazza, he
started in the direction of the Via Calimala and the print shop of Giovanni Ballano.

"You gave in too easily," Lorenzo said as the door closed behind Caprino. "I could have
persuaded him to take less."

Lion lifted the goblet to his lips. "If Caprino brings me what I want, it will be worth the
price."

Lorenzo shrugged. "If you believe it to be so."

"I do." Lion propped his feet on the table, crossing his legs at the ankles. "We leave the
day after tomorrow for Solinari."

"If Caprino's thief succeeds in your little test."

"He'd better, or I'll let you have Caprino to persuade as you deem fitting."

The faintest smile lifted Lorenzo's lips. "No, you won't."

Lion lifted a black brow. "You think I'm too kind to condemn Caprino to your tender
care?"

"I think you would take pleasure in punishing Caprino yourself, but you'd not give him to
me." His gaze met Lion's. "Why do you persist in trying to save my soul when I lost it
long ago? When I was a child of eleven, to be precise. That was when I killed my first
man. What were you doing when you were eleven, Lion?"

"Following my father's banner, watching his men pillage and rape cities. I killed my first
man when I was thirteen." He paused. "And I don't consider my soul lost."

"Ah, but your killing was bathed in glory and honor," Lorenzo said softly. "There's no
glory in the world of an assassin."

"Killing is killing."

"If you thought that was true, you'd let me go after Caprino."

Lion smiled. "Perhaps I will."

"No, you won't. To do it, you'd have to live in Caprino's world. My world."

"It's not your world. Your world is Mandara now."

"Because you say it is?"

"Because you earned a place there thirteen years ago."

"With an assassin's knife."

"Which saved my life and avenged my father."

"Glory and honor." Lorenzo's gravelly voice was mocking. "You see how your mind
works? I fear you have a grievous fault, Lion. Somehow you've managed to acquire the
instincts of a bygone age. Chivalry will never prevail in a land where men like me can
grow rich."

"Chivalry? My God, you're demented, Lorenzo. No one is more of a realist than I. If you
want chivalry, I'm afraid you'll have to apply to Marco."

"I agree your brother is sickeningly pure and honorable, but I suspect you're infected with
a less virulent form of the same disease." As Lion started to speak, Lorenzo held up his
hand. "Perhaps you don't adhere to the philosophy, my friend, but the instinct is certainly
there. Look how you've insisted on trying to keep me by your side so I wouldn't return to
cutting the throats of the illustrious noblemen of Naples."

"Most of them needed killing."

"But I never inquired whether they did or not." Lorenzo smiled faintly. "Killing is
killing."

"By all that's holy, Lorenzo, will you stop turning my words against me? Why will you
not admit that you're no longer what you were?"

"Because I am what I am and what I was and what I will be."

"
Cristo!
" Lion drew an exasperated breath. "And what are you then, damn your cryptic
soul?"

A sudden smile lit Lorenzo's narrow face. "I told you I had no soul. I am many things but
I can think of only one that has merit."

"And what is that?"

"I'm the friend of Lionello Andreas," Lorenzo said softly.

Lion gazed at him suspiciously. "I have the uneasy feeling you're making mock of me
again."

Lorenzo raised his brows. "But of course," he said blandly. "How can a man who has no
soul know friendship? I'm glad you're so perceptive. It shows I've trained you well in
these last thirteen years."

Lion swore softly beneath his breath. "Lorenzo, someday I'll--"

"My lord, the hour grows late." Giulia Marzo was standing in the doorway smiling at
them. "If you please, I'll show Messer Vasaro to his chamber. Does he wish a
companion? I have a sweet little Sicilian girl who could show him much pleasure."

"Lorenzo?" Lion glanced at Vasaro.

Lorenzo shook his head. "Not tonight."

"Nor any night of late." Lion gazed at him speculatively. "I fear you're beginning to have
the tastes of a monk. It was not always so."

"I'm an old man of forty-four. Perhaps I've lost my virility," Lorenzo said lightly as he
turned and moved toward the door. "I find my books more stimulating than these fair
flowers at present. But pray don't let me stop you from frolicking in Venus's garden."

"I won't." Lion's lingering gaze ran over Giulia's bare shoulders and then down to the
fullness of her breasts. "I promise you."

When Giulia returned minutes later, Lion was still sitting in the same position, his feet
propped on the table, his gaze fixed thoughtfully on his wine goblet.

"Vasaro is a strange man." Giulia closed the door and leaned back against it. "Are you
not afraid to call him your friend? Caprino says Vasaro is--"

"No worse than any of us," Lion interrupted. "We live in violent times, and a man must
be violent to survive and hold what is his."

"Or take what is another's?" Giulia asked, amused. "Is that why you need a thief?"

His gaze narrowed on her face. "I have no liking for questions, Giulia." He smiled. "In
fact, I consider the forming of words a sinful waste from lips that are so accomplished at
other occupations. Take off your clothes, cara."

Giulia felt the muscles of her stomach clench as she looked at him. She was breathless
and trembling--but not surprised for it had been this way with Lion, since his first visit
over two years before. Caprino was right in judging Lion as not handsome. Some might
even call him ugly as Caprino had done. His features looked as though they'd been carved
from stone by the bold stroke of an ax instead of the delicate chisel of an artist. His
cheekbones were too broad, his black brows straight slashes over eyes that were night
dark and seldom held any emotion save wariness and cynicism. His lips were well shaped
but they, too, held a hint of both sensuality and cruelty. His dark hair was still as closely
barbered as the days when he had worn a soldier's helmet, and his body, though lithe,
held none of the slim grace of the courtier. Even as he reclined in an indolent position
now, his loose white shirt gave hint of the power of his massive shoulders, and the gray
hose revealed the might of trunklike thighs and muscular calves.