The Angel of Soriano: A Renaissance Romance Page 6

  “I think I’m beginning to understand.” Pino crossed his arms over his chest.

  “He made a terrible mistake several days ago. I’m not sure what it was, but his recipe killed a young merchant. Then his family came to the keep to demand retribution. Papa fell on his sword hoping to save us.”

  “Us?” Mia’s brows went up as she rubbed some leafs over the open wounds on her cheek and Aurelia flinched at the sting.

  “Ow. Yes. Bernardo and Fulvio were there as well.”

  “Who are they?” Pino asked, a frown appearing.

  “I told you. Bernardo Carvajal is Dideco’s son. He was trying to get Papa to open the gate and Fulvio is his servant. Of course, Papa would never let anyone talk to me. That’s when the intruders came.”

  A grunt came from Uncle Pino as Aunt Mia poured warm water and said, “Signore Carvajal should’ve brought you here. Pino, turn around. Aurelia, stand and let me see the rest of you. So who did this to you? The intruders?”

  “No. It was Pierpaolo’s fists.” Aurelia climbed out of the barrel and wrapped in the offered towel.

  “Heaven and all its angels, you make my head spin.” Her aunt sat on a bench near the wall.

  Frowning, Pino tipped over the barrel and water sloshed upon the dirt floor. “What did you do to deserve such a beating?”

  Isn’t that just like a man? Even Pino thought the worst of me. “Nothing! He’s quite mad. Thinks I own some land in Naples or that I’m a witch or some such thing. Who knows?”

  Mia slapped at her husband, gently chiding. “Pino. Of course it’s not her fault. She’ll stay with us until we can figure out a better plan. In boy’s clothing and with those bruises? None will know. Aurelia can help in the medicine garden, as she did when she was a child.”

  Aurelia nodded, sighed heavily, dried and dressed.

  Her aunt stopped her at the door to the main hall. “I’m afraid you will need to eat at the servant’s table, dear.”

  “Si, si.” Aurelia leaned over to give the small woman who’d been more of a mother than her own, a fierce hug.

  Suddenly, Stefano’s shouts of alarm made Aurelia’s heart raced. She was found out so soon?

  Pino, already atop of the gate’s tower, shouted down to the household. “Stay hidden.”

  She’d do no such thing. Better to burn as a witch than to let one of Pierpaolo’s evil men harm her dear friends. She marched out with clenched fists.

  Pino’s four sons were buckling on their swords at the entrance when a rider came into view.

  Am I dreaming? Aurelia pinched herself and then rushed forward. “I know this man. Lower your weapons. It’s Signore Bernardo Carvajal. The eldest son of the steward of Soriano. The man I told you about. The one who rescued me from father’s attackers.”

  Pino trotted down the tower stairs with a stern face. “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure.”

  Bernardo’s horse whinnied and stomped outside their walls. “Aurelia? Is that your voice?”

  Pino glared at him. “Leave at once, young man.”

  “Wait. Let him speak.” Her feet refused to move and her heart beat too fast. Bernardo had not forgotten her. He’d come to save her, perhaps even to ask for her hand in marriage.

  Pino sheathed his sword and calmed his sons with palms down when Bernardo dismounted and stood at the iron bars. “Signore Aggi? My household has taken ill after a meal. Some of the servants as well. I request your services.”

  Her heart sank. He’d not come not for her at all, but for Pino’s herbs.

  Stefano opened the gate and Bernardo’s mouth dropped open when he spotted her. “Jesus’ nails! Who did this to you?”

  “It’s none of your concern.” Pino frowned more fiercely than she’d ever known him to.

  Walking his horse into the courtyard, Bernardo’s beautiful face darkened and brows furrowed. “It is and she comes with us.”

  “It isn’t and she does not.” Pino’s sons rushed to his side as the two men faced off. Swords sung against their leather sheaths as they were pulled into action.

  Aurelia jumped between them. “Please. It’s all right. I owe this man my life. I’ll go with him if he asks. I don’t want any trouble.”

  She waited until they nodded a curt agreement, then raced off to find Mia, some herbs, and a change of clothes.

  Madonna. What a mess.

  Chapter 10

  Bernardo ached to scoop Aurelia into his arms and never let her go. Instead, he watched her half-run, half-limp up the side stairs and into the small keep.

  He was certain those dark bruises were knuckle marks and so kept his hand on his sword’s hilt. As soon as he saw to the health of his family, he’d deal with this outrage. Dismounting, he glared at the old man.

  Surrounded by four young men, the herbalist’s sword was lowered, but his stance indicated he was about to do battle. “Well now that you’re here, you’d best explain your situation, young man.”

  “First, you explain. What happened to Signorina Aurelia?” Bernardo narrowed his gaze, his blade arm itching to right this wrong.

  Pino snorted and shook his sword like an index finger. “This is your doing. You put her in the hands of that sadist, Pierpaolo.”

  “He did this?” Bernardo exhaled and put his sword away. “Scusami. Apologies.”

  The old man did the same. “What? Did you think I had a hand in this?”

  “Christ’s wounds. What was I to think? Did she defy her new husband? Is that what happened?” He patted Monstro’s neck, and his horse relaxed. There’d be no battle, at least not right this moment.

  “I’ve no idea. Her story makes no sense at all. Perhaps you can clear up some details. But tell me, what brings you here?”

  Bernardo cursed, guilty that he’d forgotten his family’s needs. “All who ate at the keep in Soriano this evening are ill, retching and writhing in pain.”

  “Did any die?” Pino hurried toward the barn under the building, the air turned thick with hundreds of pungent herbs.

  He followed as he walked Monstro in circles. “Not that I know of. I remembered your name from when I first met Aurelia in Rome. She said that if I ever needed an herbalist, I should find you. Almost everyone eating in my keep fell ill this evening. They vomited until they couldn’t stand and then crawled into their bedchambers.”

  “And not you?” The herbalist reached up, pinched off dried twigs and bundles of leaves and stuffed them into a bag.

  “I had no appetite, didn’t eat, and so wasn’t sick.” Bernardo patted his horse and allowed him to drink, but slowly.

  “Was there any frothing at the mouth? Palsy?” Pino stopped and stared.

  He tried to recall. “None that I saw.”

  “What was prepared for the evening meal?” The little man put some dried herbs into a mortar and ground down with a pestle.

  “I honestly can’t remember. Some kind of spicy meats,…ah pasta…and a plate of something fruity.”

  Pino grumbled, “Not much to go on.”

  At that moment, Aurelia called out her goodbyes from the upstairs floor, lifted her skirts, and hopped down the stairs on one foot. A short dress was tied hastily under her breasts as if a ribbon could make it fit. On her head, the wide brim on the oversized white linen cap did nothing to hide her poor abused face.

  “She’ll ride with me.” Bernardo put away the horse’s brush he’d been using and mounted. He reached an arm down, his body aching to have her close.

  The short herbalist started to protest, but his old wife stopped him with a hand on his sword arm and a whisper in his ear.

  Growling, the old man nodded his consent and pointed to a group of four stout young men. “I’ll leave two of my sons here, along with two of your guards. Stefano and Venario, you ride with us.”

  Bernardo nodded as did his sons. A very fair arrangement.

  One of the young men lifted Aurelia by the waist up to Bernardo. Biting her lower lip, she hissed, and stiffened. Puffy eyes, no doub
t blackened by a fist, stared back at him. Then she lowered into the front of his saddle.

  Filled with self-loathing and guilt, he put an arm around her waist and caressed one of the angry marks on her cheek. “Are you comfortable?”

  She adjusted her skirts and said coldly, “I’m fine.”

  He turned his charger out of the courtyard. With a click of the tongue, their speed increased. Why was she angry with him?

  When she moaned, the urge to turn back was almost too much to bear. “I’m sorry. Had I known your body was so abused, I wouldn’t have insisted you come.”

  “No. no. Just a moment. I believe a rib may be broken. It hurts like the devil.” She squirmed for a moment, then settled closer to where he ached for her.

  A rib? A need to kill Pierpaolo Nardini coursed through his body. “Why? Why did he do this to you?”

  “The punches to my face and body? Because he is mad. My ankle I did myself while jumping off the castle wall. The hair? I needed a disguise to get away.” Her tone was unexpectedly and infuriatingly calm.

  Christ’s blood. Like a warrior, she was proud of those injuries. He tried to make sense of it all while his horse trotted out of the hazelnut trees and onto the main road. “Explain. Start with where I last saw you off in Vignanello. You were supposed to be married.”

  She nodded, eyes bright in the moonlight. “Si, si. That’s what I thought too. Although my intended was old enough to be my grandfather, he had an herb garden and was interested in medicinal arts and learning. I thought we’d suit. I could administer healing to the locals. Eventually he’d die and I could be a widow and continue to aid the poor.”

  Bernardo stiffened and held her tight. She deserved much better than that and yet her tone held no bitterness. He breathed into her neck, inhaled the scent of lavender, and knew at that moment that he was never going to be the same.

  “Are you alright?” She turned, almost hitting his mouth with hers.

  “Mio Dio, Aurelia. I’m not all right at all. Here I am, thinking you’re happily married. I’m waiting like a vassal for Nardini to give permission for me to come to visit. Then I find you like…like this. I’m undone.”

  She turned to gaze up at him as if he had two heads. “Undone?”

  “Si, si. Undone.”

  She put a hand to her short hair under her cap. “I see. You no longer find me attractive.”

  He sighed. “If anything, I find you more so than before. It’s all but unbearable.”

  Her lips, inches from his, dropped open and she whispered, “I checked in the mirror in the upstairs of the house. My nose may never be straight again, my eyes are sunken, and I’m covered in hideous bruises.”

  “And yet here in my lap, you drive me mad.” He took his eyes off the path a moment.

  Her nostrils flared and she licked her lips but he dared not kiss her, not with the well-armed herbalist and his sons riding close.

  Innocently, she adjusted her weight and pressed against his hard appendage. He moaned.

  “Are you hurt as well?” She looked down at his raging lust.

  He ached to pull her tight but her injuries prevented him. He pictured her below him, naked, and loving.

  Then the truth came out of him more as a rasp. “I’m dying that I didn’t keep you safe as I promised I would.”

  She gave a little snort. “Ridiculous. How could you know what went on in Vignanello?”

  “I might’ve tried harder.” He bristled at her tone. His honor was in question?

  “And start a war? Over me? Don’t be daft.” She settled back into his chest and soon her breathing became regular. Aurelia must’ve been exhausted to fall asleep upon the fast moving horse and in the middle of a conversation.

  Pino Aggi clucked his teeth and rode his horse forward. “Is she alright?”

  “She sleeps. Tell me. Why was this done to her?” Bernardo kept his voice low and lowered his gaze to check her gently rising chest. His heart wrenched, thinking how someone had beat her so.

  Pino sighed as their horses made their way carefully by the light of the full moon. “Apparently Pierpaolo wants something she has or is as mad as she claims.”

  “I had to increase her dowry, just to insure that bastard would marry her. It doesn’t make sense.”

  The herbalist grumbled something and sidled close enough to see her face. “I haven’t had time to figure out anything. She’d only just arrived when you came upon us with your demands.”

  She stirred and moaned so Bernardo tucked her closer and then said, “I’m afraid more bad news. Pierpaolo Nardini was at the keep for dinner. He’s one of the many who lie sick.”

  “I’ll slice him open from neck to navel. Feed him his own innards and watch.” Pino scowled and his horse, sensing his mood, whinnied.

  “Agreed, but not yet. Not under my father’s hospitality.”

  “Then I’ll give him the worst case of squats a man can endure and still live.”

  “That’ll have to suffice for now.” Bernardo grinned, deciding he liked Aurelia’s Uncle Pino.”

  Soon, the streets of Soriono glowed overhead with torches, as if the festival of Michaelmas. He kissed the angel’s linen cap, squeezed her body and whispered, “We’re here. You need to wake up.”

  Chapter 11

  Aurelia opened her eyes. Soriano? So soon? The magical city flickered in orange torchlight. Even though late, residents gathered in the dark narrow streets. Conversations stopped and gazes turned hostile as horse hooves clomped on the stones.

  She inhaled manure, baking bread, cooked meat, and greasy tallow candles.

  Bernardo, however, seemed not to notice anything but the road in front of him. His firm thighs clenched his black horse urging it up the steep hill. They stopped in a long flat piazza at the top, in front of an ancient castle.

  Racing out the main door, Fulvio, dressed in billowing white shirt and black hose stopped short when he saw her and his mouth dropped open.

  He tried to mask his shock as he reached to help her off Bernardo’s huge beast. “Good to see you, signorina.”

  “Ow. Curse the devil and all his minions!” Pain shot out from her injured rib when his hands clamped too tightly onto her injuries.

  Fulvio let go and glared up at Bernardo. “What did you do to her?”

  “Bloody wounds of Christ. It wasn’t me. I’ll explain later.” Obviously annoyed, he dismounted quickly and handed off the reins to a waiting young squire. Then with gentle hands, he lifted her down.

  She barely had time to wake. Taking an elbow, Bernardo strode her toward the great arched door as she did a hobble-hop to keep up. Pino hastened alongside with his herb bag slung over his shoulder. Then double doors swung open wide to expose the dimly lit great hall of the keep.

  She moaned and pinched her nose shut. It hurt, no doubt broken, but needed to be held. For ahead, twenty trestle tables still sat laden with food and covered in puke. A huge marble hearth burned with embers low.

  Bernardo looked up the grand staircase and said to Fulvio. “How’re my father and his wife?”

  “Uncomfortable, but recovering.” His man servant continued to gawk at her with mouth wide.

  He reached over and touched her cheek with sad eyes. From his looks, she hoped there were no mirrors on the landing because she’d no doubt faint at the sight of her own face. More urgently, she wondered how she’d manage the many steps in front of her.

  Bernardo must’ve been more aware of her injuries than she’d surmised. He lifted her into his arms, ascended the multiple flights, and gently placed her onto her feet at the top. Then he walked them all down a dark hall and knocked on an oak door. With a nod Pino entered and yet she was held back from following.

  Aurelia shot Bernardo a questioning look when he stood in front of the door with arm crossed over his chest.

  A sighed escaped from his lips. “Pierpaolo Nardini is within. Your Signore Aggi needs time to put him to sleep.”

  Sleep? He deserved a lot worse than
that! Her heart raced, she bent over, and grasped the stiletto in her boots. She’d slice his neck open wide and watch him bleed out.

  With raised eyebrows, Bernardo’s hand shot out and stopped her from opening the door.

  His grasp stayed much longer than appropriate and his thumb caressed the soft spot of her hand. “Not tonight, angel. And not as a guest under my father’s roof and protection. But believe me, once recovered, I’ll make him pay for what he did to you.”

  She fumed and glared at him, but did as requested, placing her blade back into the side of her boot.

  It wasn’t long before Pino opened the door again. In the huge mattress in the center of the room, Bernardo’s parents lay sleeping with Pierpaolo next to them in the trundle bed. In her mind’s eye, she kicked him unconscious as he had done, just the day before.

  Pino, no doubt reading her thoughts, cleared his throat. “Check the Carvajals. Tell me what you think.”

  A palm to Dideco’s mildly warm forehead indicated he was not near death. Then picking up the bucket of putrid vomit, she sniffed and examined the contents.

  When nothing smelled seriously amiss, she said, “The meat of their last meal was clearly spoiled. We’ll prepare mint tea with marjoram. The kitchen help should be spoken to and the local butcher as well.”

  The deep lines in Bernardo’s face smoothed and he squatted onto his heels with his face hidden in his hands. Clearly he wanted no one to see his strong emotions.

  Just to be certain, she sniffed Dideco’s breath, and caught the slightest whiff of something. Garlic?

  Oh no. She picked up the elder Carvajal’s hands and small white dots on his fingernails confirmed her suspicions.

  He was no doubt being poisoned. Shocked, she dropped the bucket, ruining the front of her dress.

  Thank God for the bad food or Bernardo and his father would no doubt die a slow and excruciatingly painful death. She’d need tread carefully. False accusations or even true ones could get a healer killed or worse. Emptying her face of emotion, she helped Pino prepare a recipe that would fully expunge the noble couple’s last meal and bring calm to their stomachs.