The Wind Dancer (27 page)

"I would wait until Lion freed me before venturing into these realms of knowledge."

"You know he won't do so. I must free myself... when the opportunity arises." She
paused. "Why did Lion go to Florence?"

"Can't you guess?"

"Caprino?"

Lorenzo nodded. "He can't get his hands on Damari at present, so he's settling for
Caprino."

She shivered. "Caprino is a dangerous man."

"But so is Lion," Lorenzo said calmly. "And Caprino will pose no problem for him. Don't
worry; if I'd thought otherwise I would have gone with him."

Sanchia quickly averted her eyes. "Why should I worry?"

"You might ask yourself that question. The answer could--" He stopped and then smiled.
"I believe you have visitors, Sanchia."

Sanchia's gaze followed Lorenzo's to the two horses tied at the iron garden gate. "Lady
Caterina?"

"I'm sure you can expect a call from her shortly, but that's not her horse. If I'm not
mistaken, your visitors are Marco and Bianca."

Sanchia winced. Sweet Mary, she didn't want to see Lion's wife again. The very thought
of Bianca brought a surge of unreasoning guilt mixed with an emotion even more
incomprehensible and infinitely more base in nature. "What is she doing here?"

"Her charitable duty, no doubt." Lorenzo took Sanchia's elbow and propelled her forward
through the shallow garden. "But I'm glad they decided to come. I believe you'll find
their visit very illuminating."

"Illuminating?" Sanchia asked, puzzled.

Lorenzo opened the front door and stepped aside for her to precede him. "You have keen
eyes, use them."

"Sanchia!" Bianca rushed forward, a smile lighting her face. "I hope you don't mind our
visiting so soon. I wanted to go to the cathedral this morning and took the opportunity to
bring you a strengthening herbal remedy."

"No, of course I don't mind." Sanchia smiled tentatively. "But it really wasn't necessary.
I'm quite well now except for my hand."

"Don't tell her that, Sanchia." Marco strolled into the hall from the direction of the salon.
"She delights in concocting foul-tasting remedies for all who will condescend to swallow
them."

"It's not foul-tasting," Bianca protested. "I added honey to sweeten it. You aren't kind,
Marco."

Marco smiled at her. "You're kind enough for both of us." He turned to Sanchia. "You
look well, Sanchia. I think you'll soon have no need for remedies."

Marco's beauty struck her anew as he came forward and bowed. Dressed in a bright blue
velvet jerkin and blue-and-white pantihose he lit up the small hall with elegance and
grace. "Undoubtedly you don't remember our last meeting in that cell at Solinari," he said
soberly. "However, it's one I'll never forget. You were very brave, Sanchia. I regret you
were forced to suffer for our sake."

She shook her head. "I wasn't brave. It's not brave to endure what must be endured." She
smiled with an effort. "But I don't like to think of that time. Did Rosa give you wine? I
know nothing about fine wines, but Lorenzo brought a jug last evening and he says it is
full of the very best."

Marco shook his head. "We just arrived and cannot stay. Bianca spent hours at the
cathedral in the confessional." He shot Bianca a mischievous glance. "She was weighed
down by her mountain of sins and required much absolution."

Bianca made a face at him. "You would do well to go to confession yourself. You are
puffed up with the sin of pride. Wasn't it only yesterday you were boasting about the
beauty of the painting you're working on?"

"It wasn't pride in my skill but in my subject," he said softly. "Bianca, the beautiful."

Bianca smiled radiantly at him. "You tease me. It is the painting that's beautiful." She
tore her gaze away from him and turned to Sanchia. "You must see Marco's work. He's a
splendid artist."

"I look forward to it," Sanchia said absently, as she looked from Bianca to Marco. They
were like two radiant children, filled with the joy of life and with each other. "Are you
sure you won't stay and have a goblet of wine?"

Bianca shook her head. "I must return to the castle. It's our day for visiting the sick." She
smiled gently. "Good day, Sanchia. Drink my remedy and you'll soon be able to come to
the castle and see Marco's beautiful painting."

Marco hesitated. "Will you assist Bianca onto her mount, Lorenzo? I'd like a word with
Sanchia."

"It would be my pleasure." Lorenzo opened the door and bowed to Bianca. "If I give her
service, perhaps she'll be grateful enough to pray for the forgiveness of my sins."

"God forgives all," Bianca said. "Go to the priest and have him intercede for you."

"I think God would listen more readily to the prayers of the beautiful Bianca. He is, after
all, the originator of good taste." Lorenzo's fingers closed on Bianca's elbow and urged
her forward. "I'll return shortly, Sanchia."

Marco turned to Sanchia as soon as the door closed behind them. "You're not planning on
staying at Mandara?"

"No, I'll leave as soon as possible."

Marco nodded, relieved. "That would be best. If I can help in any way, please call on
me."

"I may ask for your help if it becomes necessary."

"You understand I wouldn't want to deprive you of safety or contentment, but Bianca is
very innocent."

"I understand." She smiled warmly at him. "And I wouldn't want to hurt her in any way.
Believe me, Marco."

"I do believe you." He bowed and crossed the few feet to the door. "Thank you, Sanchia."

A few minutes later Lorenzo entered the hall, closed the door and leaned back against it.
"He asked you to go?"

"No, only if I planned to do so." She met his gaze. "He wants to protect her from hurt or
shame." She paused. "He loves her?"

"Yes."

"They're quite beautiful together."

"As exquisite as two dancing sunbeams." He smiled. "And with a relationship just as
substantial."

Sanchia glanced away. "Does she love him, too?"

"Oh, yes, as much as she can love any man. She won't admit it to herself, of course, for
that would be a sin. She's loved Marco since she was brought here to Mandara to marry
Lion. They were drawn to each other at once and thrown together constantly as Lion was
always away with his father fighting with their condotti."

"Lion knows?"

"Since the first time he came home from battle and saw them together. They were then as
they are now."

"Was he very angry?"

"No. Saddened. He loves Marco."

She had seen the affection between the two brothers, but she couldn't believe Lion would
react without anger toward anyone who encroached on his property. "But Bianca is his
wife. He would not--"

"Psyche," Lorenzo interrupted. "You saw it that first moment. Pure, childlike. How do
you think Psyche would respond to Lion? Bianca is as unsuited to Lion as a woman can
be unsuited to a man. If she hadn't been the daughter of a great house she would have
gone into a convent. Marco's adoration suits her very well; he is her Cupid for his love is
divine, pure."

"I don't want to hear any more." She moistened her lips with her tongue. "This isn't my
concern."

"You will hear more because Lion is not one of Bianca's saints; he's my friend and I've
grown tired of seeing him give all and get nothing in return." He went on bluntly,
"Bianca is not only a Psyche; she's a child who will never grow up. There's something
wrong... She was only fourteen when she was wed and at first Lion thought her
childishness natural, but she's never changed. She's a child in a dream world playing at
being a grown woman. He gave Marco endless opportunities to cuckold him during those
first years and would have happily accepted Marco's child as his heir." He paused. "But
then he realized that Bianca would never accept Marco as her lover. She doesn't
understand passion any more than a small child would, and Marco is so filled with tales
of courtly love that he'd never try to teach her." He shook his head. "Incredible. So Lion
stays away at Pisa and permits them to play like children here at Mandara."

"Perhaps they're all happy with the arrangement as it stands."

"I'm not happy with it, but I would have left it alone if Lady Caterina had not decided to
alter the balance. She makes excuses to call Lion back to Mandara at every opportunity.
She wants an heir for Mandara and she's clever enough to know Marco will never
cuckold Lion to provide her with one nor will the besotted idiot marry anyone else.
Which leaves only Lion to be lured back to Bianca's bed and his duty to Mandara." He
straightened away from the door. "I agree with Lady Caterina that it's time the situation is
resolved, but not in the fashion she's chosen. Lion deserves to be free of this yoke."

"Then in what fashion?"

"You," he said. "A permanent liaison that will discourage Lady Caterina's hopes and free
Lion from the responsibility of Mandara. That's why you had to come here, Sanchia. Lion
has been very careful not to bring any women to Mandara for fear it would shame
Bianca. Lady Caterina must come to recognize that your presence here indicates a
shifting in the balance of the situation."

"It means nothing." Sanchia gazed at him, stunned. "You're using me as a pawn."

"Yes," he said calmly. "But you'll be a beautifully cared for pawn and, if you give Lion a
child, you'll never again want for anything."

"A child?"

"Had you not thought of that? There's a possibility you might be with child."

"No, I couldn't--" She had not yet had her flux but surely it was not yet her time. So
much had happened it was difficult to remember.

"If you're not with child, I'm sure that happy circumstance will occur shortly." Lorenzo
added, "And the child would belong to Lion just as you do, Sanchia."

"No! The child of a slave is free."

"Perhaps in Florence, but in almost every other city-state the child would also belong to
the mother's master." He paused. "Unless you could convince him to free the child. I
don't think you could bear to leave your babe and run away to this dream of freedom
you're nurturing. Judging by the way you acquired your band of little friends in Florence,
I believe you to have an extremely affectionate and maternal nature."

No, she'd never be able to leave her child, and how could she care for an infant by herself
as a runaway slave? What if she became hurt or ill? She had seen the fate of children
abandoned to the streets. She could feel the panic rising within her. "There is no child.
There will never be a child." She blinked away the tears stinging behind her eyes. "I'm
going away and--"

"I'd wait to determine that. It might be too late even now."

"You're very cruel," she whispered.

"No." For an instant his eyes held a distant sympathy. "We can't all have what we want.
We have to choose. I choose Lion."

She drew a deep breath. "Well, I do not."

He smiled. "We shall see." He turned to go. "I'll leave you now. I'm sure you'll need time
to get over the resentment you're feeling toward me and think about what I've said. I'll
return tomorrow to make sure all is well with you." He opened the door. "Good day,
Sanchia."

Sanchia gazed blankly at the door that had just shut and then turned and moved slowly,
heavily toward the salon. A child? Why had she never considered a child? If she carried
his child, Lion would never give up searching for her to claim it. Surely God wouldn't be
so cruel as to give her a child. She had only to be patient and Lorenzo's words would
prove false.

She had only to wait and be patient.

As Lorenzo had predicted, Lady Caterina called on Sanchia late that afternoon and was
ushered into the salon by an excited and awed Rosa.

Sanchia stood up, bracing herself as she closed the book Lorenzo had given her. She
smiled determinedly. "You honor me, my lady."

"Yes, I do." Caterina Andreas gazed critically around the room, evaluating the tapestry-cushioned bench and matching hassock, the deeply recessed leaded-glass windows, the
polished oak cabinet. Her gaze lingered longest on the huge amethyst on the lid of the
silver pitcher on the richly carved Venetian table. "This is furnished quite pleasantly. You
must be very content here." She turned back to Sanchia. "Nevertheless, you must leave. I
won't have you at Mandara."

Sanchia had been prepared for a dismissal but still found herself startled at the bluntness
of the statement. "I have no intention of remaining here," she replied with equal candor.
"As soon as I'm permitted to leave, I will do so. You've forgotten I'm not free to make
that choice."

Caterina's gaze narrowed on her face. "Yet you said you considered yourself free even
though my son does not."

"I do." She swallowed to ease the sudden tightness of her throat. "But there are certain
considerations that may interfere with my attempting to leave at once."

"What considerations?" Caterina asked fiercely. "You like living in this fine house and
having Lion pamper you with gowns and jewels? Well, it won't do. I won't permit--"

"No," Sanchia cut through the tirade. "I want nothing." She drew a deep breath. "That's
not true. I'd be foolish not to want all of those things. Of course I want them. But not
enough to--" She broke off and then said, "You don't have to worry about my staying
here, Lady Caterina. Give me a little time and I promise you I'll leave Mandara."

"And what if I don't give you time?"

"Then I'll take it anyway."

A look of surprise crossed Lion's mother's face followed by grudging respect. "You're
very bold for a slave."

"I'm not bold at all, but I am determined." Sanchia smiled sadly. "A slave isn't permitted
the former and would not survive without the latter."

"Indeed." Caterina studied Sanchia. "The same could be said of a wife."

"I have no experience with which to judge the truth of what you say."

"I have." Caterina whirled toward the door in a flurry of violet silk skirts. "I'm not
satisfied, but I'll obviously win no further agreement from you, and I'm not fool enough
to waste my breath. I'll hold my peace for a time while you ponder your 'considerations.'
" She shot a level look at Sanchia over her shoulder. "But if you're not gone by the end of
the fortnight, you may expect me to take action. Be warned."