The Angel of Soriano: A Renaissance Romance Read online

  When there were none left to kill, he looked to the pink sky. It came as a shock that he’d lived until the dawn as he stood ankle deep in blood and entrails. In his ears, men moaned, taking their last dying breaths. In his heart, there was only Aurelia. Had she survived as well?

  Antonio, covered in blood, lowered his sword and stared across the bodies. “Find her. There’s nothing more to be done here.”

  With an exhausted nod, he strode up the hill to the keep. Along the road, people sat battle-stunned. Some women wept with bodies in their arms, but most were too weary to do even that.

  The clanging of swords still rang in his ears along with the thunderous cracks of iron balls as they’d bounced off the keep’s walls. The road, filled with stones and rubble, had never seemed steeper nor longer.

  His right arm ached from where it was bloodied and cut but he consider himself damn lucky it remained attached.

  He paused at the garrison, the outside lined with dead bodies. An anger at the waste of it all surged through him. At the top, the portcullis to the keep was still down. He shouted to a pikesman, “Open for the lord of the keep. And see to it that my brother and his men are allowed in and cared for.”

  A man raced forward, cranked the handle, and the iron gate raised. “Good to see you alive, Signore Carvajal.”

  “Are the women safe?”

  “Your wife Lucella is screeching, and the old goat bleats, so I would guess they are alive.”

  “What about Aurelia?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t heard her.”

  “Fulvio?”

  He’s in the garrison, gathering the men to go after the last of the bastards that ran.

  “Find him and send him to me.”

  Chapter 27

  Aurelia left Bernardo staring at his parent’s dead bodies. She sprinted down the hallway with a pistol in one hand and an ammunition bag in the other. Even if she didn’t know which room was Lucella’s, she could’ve located it by the screeching and sobbing.

  She banged on the oak door. “Are you safe, ladies? Bernardo says to let me in. I have a pistol to protect you.”

  Lucella’s old grandmother’s voice quavered. “Nardini whore! Stay put out there where you belong. Or have you come to finish what you started?”

  She’d had just about enough of the old witch. “I started? I’m the one who sounded the alarm at Bastia! I’ve no doubt saved you and this ungrateful town from my uncle’s invasion. Let me in.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Lucella’s whiny voice cut through the sounds of the walls being bashed by catapult stones.

  Something inside Aurelia snapped and she said, “Bernardo requested I guard your sorry behinds and so I will. But I swear I’ll shoot you if you don’t shut up.”

  “You’re lucky I didn’t poison you with the rest!”

  Her grandmother cursed and must’ve slapped the girl. Then furniture banged along with the sounds of a catfight.

  Lucella’s admission stunned Aurelia but there was no time to deal with it now. She even considered leaving and letting them die but Bernardo’s warning held her in place. She would see to their safety as he asked.

  Downstairs, the tips of pikes banged on marble floors. Many men shouted, screamed, and no doubt died. She wondered how long before they’d make it up to the top of the stairs.

  Shaking, she sat cross legged on the cold floor and put the pistol between her knees for loading. She poured powder into the barrel, careful not to lose any. Then she stuck in a tiny iron ball and tamped it down with a long stick. She couldn’t help but weep as she remembered the day her father died, the last time she’d held a weapon thus.

  The battle noises grew louder and closer to the foot of the stairs. Soon they’d be upon her. Bracing, she lit the fuse, and leaned back against the wall but still, they did not come.

  The crying in the room stopped as well. Perhaps they slept or left out the tunnel. Exhausted, she nodded off while her thumb grew numb on the firing pin.

  Sudden voices woke her, she inhaled with eyes wide, and counted. One. Two. Th—

  “Hold, Aurelia. It’s me.” Bernardo rushed forward, and pushed the pistol barrel up in the air and it went off.

  “You idiot. I almost killed you.” She grabbed him around the waist, unable to let go of the weapon, and wept into his chest. She was sure, when he hadn’t returned abruptly, that he must’ve died.

  He cupped his palms around her cheeks. “Shush. Why aren’t you locked in the room with the other women?

  Lucella’s harsh words sounded from behind the door. “She is Nardini. The family that betrayed us at our wedding, dear husband. You tried to be nice and let her go but she came back. This time you must see to it she’s killed.”

  He banged a fist on the door. “You little bitch. You left her out here?”

  Aurelia cried out, her heart breaking in two. He’d married Lucella. Lopez must’ve annulled hers and Bernardo’s marriage first.

  “Wait. You don’t understand!” Bernardo held out his hand but she slapped it away, tears blinding her as she darted down the stairs. She raced past the exhausted pikesmen and out into the piazza.

  Struck by the blood and gore that covered every inch of bricks, she turned around and kept running until she was back in the bowels of the dungeon, where she’d first found Bernardo in his cell.

  Wheezing, she stopped and stared, unable to believe her bad luck. For there was Pierpaolo, crouched on hands and knees, staring down the hole that led into the underground city.

  Like a rat, he grinned when he met her confused gaze. “So good of you to come.”

  “You coward!” She pointed her pistol, working out the odds of the ball hitting him at this range. Her rib ached again, remembering how he’d kicked her so mercilessly.

  His eyes narrowed. “Do you think these people who stoned you will ever accept you? Best to escape with me while you can.”

  “So you can kill me? That hardly seems like a good idea.” She aimed.

  He acted as if he didn’t hear her or care if she killed him. “Where does this tunnel lead?”

  “Nowhere,” she lied easily. “It’s a pit filled with decaying bodies.”

  When he shuddered and backed away from the hole, she waved the pistol barrel in the direction of the tufa stairway. “That’s the only way out. Go.”

  He inched forward with his arm reaching for her weapon. “Good girl. Give me the pistol.”

  “No. You drop your sword.” Her hand shook and she wondered if she’d be able to shoot him. After all the blood outside, she’d no desire to see more death, not even his.

  His face contorted into an ugly snarl. “You don’t have what it takes to kill me, girl. If I die, who’ll take you in? Bernardo Carvajal? Will you agree to be his whore, now that he’s married the Spanish noble?”

  “He loves me.” Suddenly she wasn’t so certain.

  He laughed. “It was my men who rescued you from the stoning at the foot of the mountain. Mine! Where was he when all that happened?”

  She paused. Had she not wondered the same?

  “And why, even now, does he leave you alone to fend for your life?”

  Because he’d sent her to guard his wife and then not come after her. She moaned. I am such a fool.

  Bernardo, as if hearing her agonizing thoughts, jumped down the stairs, two at a time. “She’s down here. Aurelia, my love, why did you run off?”

  His gaze followed to where her pistol pointed and with brows furrowed he held out his hand. “Give me that. Let me deal with him.”

  Tears rolling down her face, she shook her head no. Pierpaolo was the only relative she had left. He was her only chance of having some place to live when all this was finished.

  Her hesitation was all the opportunity that her uncle needed. He jumped down the hole, boot heels clicked on the cave floor, then echoed away to nothing.

  Fulvio and Bernardo stared, aghast that she’d let him go. But she hadn’t. She just couldn’t fathom any mor
e blood and death. Not right at this moment. She dashed forward, dropped to her hands and knees, and followed down the ladder. Maybe she couldn’t kill her own relation, but neither would she let him go free.

  Bernardo and Fulvio followed closely behind, shouting all the while for her to stop. At the bottom, Bernardo pulled a dry torch from the wall, lit it, and held the tarred thrushes high to reveal three separate tunnels.

  “I’ll go this way.” She strode straight ahead avoiding his angry look.

  “No.” Fulvio stepped in front of her with his grim face glowing orange in the torch’s light.

  She pointed the pistol barrel his way. “Come no closer. I mean it.”

  The hurt in his eyes nearly burst her heart open. Up to this moment, she had no idea that he loved her, too. But there was no time to explain. She needed to do this by herself.

  “Let the traitor go.” Bernardo’s anger nearly made her stop and beg for forgiveness but he was right. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong anywhere.

  In the first room, the smell of crushed olives inundated the damp air. By the wall, a tethered donkey brayed and she jumped.

  Ahead, footsteps were followed by a clunk, a grunt, and then silence. She tiptoed into a red room glowing from the coals of a kiln. Waves of scorching heat hit her face. She wiped her sweaty palms on her cloak noticing how the inside of it still sparkled. With one hand, she closed it tight so it couldn’t give her position away.

  Where is he?

  Ten barrels lined up in a row in the next room. She inched forward with heart pounding in her ears. Alone in the dark, a vision of the bloody Dideco and his wife came to life, along with countless others in the courtyard. She couldn’t let her uncle get away with all those murders. Her finger tightened on the trigger as she tossed off the cover off the closest barrel.

  Empty.

  Suddenly a numbing slap to her hand made her drop her gun and cold steel bit into her neck.

  Pierpaolo’s foul breath hissed into her ear. “Lead me out of here or die.”

  This might be the last day her life but she would not allow it to end this way. Not by his hand. She complied with his request but readied for action.

  He chuckled, squatted, and picked up her gun. Without another word, he pushed her along with the metal barrel digging into the small of her back.

  She walked him through the maze, having to backtrack several times. All the while she rubbed the inside of her cloak, hoping some of the shiny powder was still left to leave a trail. Bernardo would follow. He might not love her anymore but she was quite certain that he didn’t wish her dead.

  By the time she reached the stairs by the well, she could barely lift her feet. Whatever energy she’d had earlier was drained away and the moist air from the water below made her think of way to delay their progress.

  “Please. A drink.” She swung the bucket off the ledge, untied the handle’s rope, and it lowered.

  Unexpectedly, her feet left the ground and strong arms clamped painfully around her ribs. She scratched and kicked but her uncle was powerful and she was bone-tired. He stuffed her into the hole until only fingertips grasped at the slippery edge.

  “Help!” This was it, her final end? After all she’d been through, it seemed so unremarkable. Death by well water.

  “Let go of her.” Bernardo called from somewhere far off, too far away to save her. She held no hope in her heart, except for the afterlife as her strength gave out. When Pierpaolo cracked a hard fist down on her fingers, she let go and fell away. Her last thought was how stupid she’d been to marry above her station.

  The well shaft seemed endless as she dropped. How long before the water’s surface hit her pointed toes. Would it be deep enough to survive? When she went under, her thoughts didn’t disappear as she suspected. Instead she descended very much alive. When her feet hit bottom, she coiled and pushed up hard, her cloak so heavy it almost drowned her. Disoriented, she kicked repeatedly to what she hoped was the surface of the water.

  All that work for naught? Ears burning, heart beating wildly, she swallowed water which burned as it closed off her lungs. Just then, her head popped up into the cistern. This time she gulped in air while kicking to stay above water.

  Bernardo shouted. “Aurelia! I’m sending down the bucket. Are you injured?”

  She coughed, stunned to be alive.

  Fulvio’s voice joined his with an edge of panic. “Aurelia? I’m climbing down.”

  “No,” she rasped out. “I’m fine. But h-h-hurry. The water is frigid.”

  The pail dropped and she managed to get a foot in. Then hand-over-hand on the cord, she climbed out of the water until standing upon the bucket. “Now. Pull me up.”

  Her knees shook and the rope burned, but she clung on for her dear life. With each jerky inch up, the rope’s pulley squeaked, and the dark shaft brightened. At one point, her breath got short, thinking that the rope might break. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  Please God. When this is over, I will enter a nunnery and do your good works forever. I will never, ever wish for a life above my station. I promise. Bernardo shall have Lucella for his wife. I will not interfere nor become a fornicating mistress.

  Suddenly Bernardo was unclamping her hands from the rope and wrapping her in his warm embrace. “I thought I lost you. You should never have run off, my love.”

  How could she tell him that by annulling her marriage, and marrying Lucella, he’d broken her heart? But, her more reasonable half argued, hadn’t Fulvio warned her not to expect more from Bernardo? Remembering her promise to God, she forced her thoughts pure and made sure not to hug him back. He was a married man and she, no mistress.

  Bernardo misunderstood her cool attitude and said, “My poor angel. I’ll see you get some rest, soon.”

  “Si. But I must tell you something, first.” If he had chosen Lucella as his wife, he had to know what she’d said.

  “What is it my love?” He tipped her face up to his. Damn, as always his handsome dark gaze held her in his spell.

  She closed her eyes, trying to be brave, for soon she would leave him forever. “While the war was waging, I found out who poisoned Soriano.”

  “Him?”

  She opened her eyes and he pointed to her uncle.

  “Huh? No. It was Lucella. She admitted it to me, no doubt thinking I’d not live long enough to tell you. I’m sure if you search her room, you’ll find strange white powder within.”

  His face paled and the evil side of her rejoiced. He may have married the girl, but they’d never find happiness.

  Fulivo broke into their conversation and kicked Pierpaolo who lay motionless upon the cave floor. “Deal with Lucella later. What do we do with him now?”

  “Why not let the fine people of Soriano decide?” Bernardo let go of Aurelia for a moment, retrieved a bucket of water, and splashed it over Pierpaolo’s face.

  Even though her uncle had tried to kill her, she still wasn’t sure she wanted to see him torn to pieces in front of her face. She held her tongue, however, and let Bernardo tuck her close as they circled up and around the cistern stairs.

  In the open piazza, standing in wet clothes, her teeth chattered when she asked, “C-can’t you just throw him in the dungeon?”

  “Not very likely. He killed my parents. Tried to kill you. Started a war.” With each phrase, Bernardo pushed Pierpaolo into the street.

  When the people recognized Bernardo, they cheered and the noise grew until it came from every sector. At the same time, men grabbed her uncle and walked him up the hill at the point of their swords.

  More and more gathered in the street, shouting, “Death to Nardini. Throw him off the tower.”

  She followed under Bernardo’s arm, fearful. Was she not Nardini as well? Tears rolled down her cheek, knowing she was correct in thinking that she’d need to leave Soriano as soon as possible.

  Someone in the crowd pushed her hard and she went down onto her knees. She would’ve been trampled had Bernardo not
lifted her into his arms.

  When she turned her head, her nose hit his chest and she inhaled his scent. Her body reacted with lust and she was wracked with guilt. Dear God, how could she be responsible for these feelings? Just being in his arms did such sinful things to her.

  “I really don’t want to see my uncle tortured, Bernardo.” She closed her eyes.

  “His death will be quick but we must watch. It’d not be good for either one of us to seem sympathetic to his cause.” His face was grim as he cradled her in his arms and walked them up the hill.

  Antonio, however, was caught up with the wildness in the crowd. With a grand smile on his face, he slapped Bernardo on the back and waved. Women cheered from the upper story windows, some with babies latched to their breasts. Then they reached the castle portcullis and the piazza where not many hours earlier Aurelia had been stripped to the waist.

  It all seemed so very wrong to have such mixed feelings. They dragged the screaming Pierpaolo to the top of the highest tower overlooking the ravine. His face was skewed and his hose wet from where he had pissed himself.

  “What say you?” A man shouted.

  The crowd roared. “Throw him off! Kill the bastard!”

  Her uncle shrieked horribly the whole way down.

  The fine people of Soriano cheered.

  Shivering uncontrollably, Aurelia stretched a toe to the road. “Put me down. I’m going to be sick.”

  Bernardo set her upright and she used the opportunity to slip away into the crowd. He cried out for her, but she was already half way down the hill by then, carried away by the parade of celebrating people.

  Quickly she traded her fine cloak for a dress, changed in an alley, and sobbing, left Soriano. He’d be better off without her. The people here would never accept her, not even as his mistress. It was so clear now.

  The old vechio’s yellow cat meowed as if nothing were amiss and followed Aurelia as she walked under the arch and away from the village forever.