Fires of the Faithful (30 page)

“I can put this on by myself,” I said, when she turned to look at me.

“Yes, signora,” she said, but didn’t leave.

I straightened the nightdress as she stood looking at me. Finally I asked, “Is there something you need?”

“Would you play your violin for me?” she asked, then bit her lip and looked down. “I haven’t gotten to hear you play.”

“Oh!” I blinked in surprise. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry to ask you so late at night. During the day, I’m busy all the time, so I never get to sit and listen. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

I took her by the shoulders. “Arianna. Sit down. I’ll play for you.” I pushed her gently into the chair she’d sat me in earlier, to braid my hair, then took out my violin and tuned up. “Any requests?”

“Something old,” she whispered, so I nodded and played the Redentore healing music. She didn’t dance, but closed her eyes to listen, rocking back and forth with the music. The minor notes echoed off the stone hearth; the sweet chords were swallowed by the tapestries on the walls. I closed my eyes, hearing something I didn’t quite recognize in my own playing, just a faint echo, like the lingering taste of honey.

When I finished, Arianna sat with her eyes closed for a bit longer, and for a moment I thought she’d fallen asleep. “Thank you,” she said, her eyes still closed. “Good night.” She left without another word. I realized suddenly how tired I was. I put my violin away, then curled up under the covers of the bed. The room seemed quieter tonight than it had last night. I slept soundly, except for the sense that I needed Mira, or Giula, or Lucia sleeping near my side.

Arianna arrived the next morning just as I was getting up. She had a tray with porridge—a larger bowl than yesterday—and tea. While I ate, she brought in hot water for me to wash myself, along with a soft robe to put on when I had finished. “I’ll come back to help you dress,” she said.

“Not the damn dress again,” I said, but she was gone.

I finished my tea and porridge, and considered resisting. Arianna couldn’t physically force me to put the dress on; she was smaller than I was, and anyway it would ruin the
dress. Then I thought about her fear yesterday and wondered if Teleso would punish her for my rebellion, if I refused to put it on. I checked under the bed; my clothes were still there, but damp, since they weren’t hanging up. I turned them over to give the damp side more air, then shrugged and stood up. I had washed myself some yesterday, but she’d brought enough water for me to wash much more thoroughly, and sleeping on white linen sheets had made me realize how dirty I still was. Besides, steam rose invitingly from the basin. I washed my hands and face, then pulled my nightdress over my head to wash the rest of my body.

The door banged open and I whirled, snatching up the robe to hold it in front of myself. Teleso stood in the doorway, smiling slyly. “Go away!” I said.

Instead, he closed the door behind him. “Good morning, Eliana,” he said. Unfortunately, he did not look hung over at all.

Since I’d have to expose myself to put the robe on properly, I slipped it on backward, then tied it in the back. “Go away,” I said again. “I’m still getting dressed.”

“I can see that,” he said. He advanced on me, and I backed away. “You know,” he said, “the Redentori have the most curious customs. They believe that a girl shouldn’t lie with a man until they’re married. Now, how do they know if the Lady approves of their marriages? But you aren’t Redentore, are you? You just like the music.”

“Yes I am,” I said. “I’ve been sealed. I’m one of them.”

“But you haven’t been for long,” he said. “Their customs are not yours.”

“I have been at the conservatory,” I said. “I wasn’t even allowed to talk to boys, Lady’s blessing or not, not even at Midsummer.”

Teleso had backed me into a corner. “Eliana, I could make your life here a great deal easier,” he breathed.

“No, thank you,” I said.

“You should want to be my friend.”

“I’m not sure I like the price of your friendship,” I said. Teleso might not look hung over, but he smelled it; his breath reeked of stale wine.

He was about to reply when the door flew open. “You rang, signore?” Arianna said from the doorway.

“No,” he snapped, but she came in anyway.

“Lovely morning, isn’t it?” I hadn’t previously seen Arianna quite so relentlessly cheerful. She started making up my bed, apparently oblivious to the fact that Teleso still had me trapped in the corner. “Signore Teleso, Lieutenant Romolo says he needs to see you.”

“Thank you, Arianna,” he said. “Tell him I’ll be right down.” She hesitated and he turned to glare at her. “Go and tell him I’m coming.”

It was clearly a dismissal, and she backed slowly out of the room. I tried to pull farther back into the corner as he turned slowly around to face me again, but he said only, “Think it over.” He straightened, turned around, and left.

I still wanted to wash, but I was afraid he’d come barging into the room again. I shoved a chair over to block the door and did my best to wash without ever taking off the robe. My face was hot, and it wasn’t from the water. When I was done, I pulled the nightdress and robe back on and tied them securely before I moved the chair away from the door.

Arianna was back shortly after that, biting her lip and avoiding my eyes. My hands shook as she buttoned me into the dress. “I don’t want to wear this,” I said, but she didn’t answer.

She sat me down when she was done buttoning me up,
and braided my hair. “Arianna,” I said, “what does he want from me?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Have other women stayed here?”

“One other.”

“What happened to her?”

“He tired of her company.”

“And?”

“And she returned to Ravenna,” Arianna said, but I shook my head, not sure I believed her. “Hold still,” she said. “I’m almost done.”

“Do you know Mario?” I asked.

Arianna paused for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “I’ve met him.” Her manner was guarded, but she couldn’t quite hide the softness that came into her voice when she spoke about the kind soldier. I sat back, satisfied to have gotten that much out of her. Arianna finished tying the ends of my braids, and came around front to inspect the results. “Teleso wants you to join him for dinner again,” she said. “He’ll be here soon.”

“At least I’m dressed now,” I said, and she nodded, still not meeting my eyes.

Dinner was quiet. I sipped wine from the fragile-looking glass and nibbled. I didn’t have much of an appetite today. Weasel-face didn’t come in. Teleso dismissed the servants as we finished the meal. “So,” he said. “How have you been enjoying my hospitality?”

“You have been very generous,” I said.

“Is the food to your liking?”

“Yes.”

“And your room?” he asked.

“Very grand,” I said. “Much grander than I’m used to.”

“Do you like the dress?” He gestured with his wineglass. He was drinking more slowly today.

“No,” I said.

Teleso’s face grew sullen. He took a sip of wine and brightened a bit. “I keep the guest room empty most of the time,” he said. “You could have that room permanently, if you like.” He looked at me expectantly.

“No, thank you,” I said.

“What do you mean? Don’t you want it?”

“Not without knowing the price,” I said.

“There is no price,” he said.

“Everything has a price.”

“Really,” he said. “Including you?” He stared at me across the table with his cold, hard eyes and I found myself flushing with fury and shame. I straightened up in my chair and returned the fiercest glare I could. He chuckled slightly and rose, advancing on my end of the table.

“Don’t you want to be my friend, Eliana?” he asked.

“I’m afraid of what the price of your friendship might be,” I said.

“Perhaps it’s a price you’d enjoy paying.” He moved to stand behind me, resting his arms on the back of my chair.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

Teleso dropped his hand to rest it against my waist. “You might enjoy my friendship more than you think.”

“Take your hand off me,” I said.

“Don’t you find me handsome? Most women do.”

“Take your hand
off
me,” I said again.

Teleso stood behind me; I couldn’t push my chair back and I couldn’t stand up. As he began to slide his hand up my side, I jerked away, then ducked down and under the table, rolling beneath it and coming up to stand and face him.
“Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t be hasty,” he said, moving toward me.

I grabbed my eating knife, sending the eggshell wineglass spinning off the table. It smashed between us; the
wine splashed onto the edge of the tablecloth, making a stain like blood.
“Don’t,”
I said, holding the knife out as threateningly as I could.

Teleso froze and anger flared in his face. He narrowed his eyes to stare at me. “That was a mistake,” he said. Ignoring the knife, he reached out and grabbed my hand, twisting my wrist and jerking me toward him. “I am not interested in unwilling women,” he hissed. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

I didn’t answer.

“You are throwing away quite an opportunity,” Teleso said. “Think it over.” He took the knife out of my hand, then released my arm and shoved me backward. He jerked on the bell cord with so much force he almost tore it off the lever. “Now get out.”

One of his soldiers escorted me back up to my room. I rang the bell for Arianna, but she didn’t come. No one else did, either.

The sun shone through the window high on the wall; when I pulled the chair over to peer out, I could see people assembling in the piazza for the funeral. I climbed up on the chair and tuned my violin, then started to play, still watching the people below. They could hear me; I saw an excited figure pointing up, then gathering other people to come stand under the window.

This is the dance that turned the storm
. I played Lucia’s dance now, from the window, and below me people clasped hands to step back and forth.
Side-together-side skip. Front-together-front skip. Side-together-side skip. Back-together-back skip
. I tried to spot Lucia in the courtyard below, but she wasn’t there.
This is what Beneto was waiting for
. I could feel the nervous energy rising like steam from the dancers below.

Two soldiers came to the courtyard as I watched. They
sent the dancers away. One spoke quietly to each dancer, gesturing quickly and pointing toward the keep; the other grabbed one of the dancers roughly by the arm, shoving her out of the circle. Niccolo? No, Niccolo had fairer hair. I didn’t know this soldier. At the sound of my playing, he looked up toward the window, shading his eyes with his hand. I imagined a venomous glare, but I couldn’t see him clearly enough to tell. With the dancers scattered, though, I stepped down from my chair by the window, putting down my violin.

Who will lead us now?
Lucia’s question still haunted me. Those dancers under my window deserved a leader who believed in them. All the prisoners at Ravenna deserved a leader who believed in them. They deserved better than Giovanni—in fact, they deserved better than Beneto, for all his bright-eyed charisma. I paced the room, my violin in my hand.

I stopped in front of the mirror and tucked the violin under my chin. Closing my eyes, I played the funeral song as I’d played it for Mira, when she was ill the first time. I danced as I played—I didn’t know the steps that Lucia knew, so I let the music carry me. As I whirled with the final cascade of notes, I opened my eyes and found myself facing the mirror. That night I played for Mira in her illness, I saw an image of a soldier with my face. Looking into the mirror now, I saw that soldier again, but it no longer frightened me.

Laying my violin down on the bed, I reached behind me to the buttons of the dress. There were scores of buttons, tiny and out of my reach. I unfastened the first few. Then, closing my eyes and gripping the collar of the dress, I tore it off my body. Buttons scattered across the floor like spilled stones, and I stepped out of the heap of velvet at my feet.

My clothes were still under the bed; they were slightly
damp, but I could live with that. I put on the tunic and trousers, and belted the tunic with the red sash. The beads and ribbons took some time to remove from my hair, but I managed. The copper clip I’d used to secure my hair had vanished with Arianna, so I used a single ribbon to tie it back. Then I looked into the mirror again.

I was ready.

•  •  •

A soldier I hadn’t seen before delivered my supper—gruel. I ate it quickly, not really tasting it. I was too nervous to be hungry, but as always before a concert, I forced the food down. The door swung open as I scraped the last of the gruel from the bowl, and Teleso froze, looking at me, my clothes, the dress crumpled on the floor. “Why did you take off the dress?” he asked. His voice trembled like a rejected child’s.

“The price was too high,” I said, and his face grew as cold as his eyes.

“Come,” he said, and turned away without offering me his arm. I trailed him down the stairs. Just before we reached the doorway of the keep, he reached back to grab my hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm and pinning it against his side. Soldiers joined us, and escorted us out of the keep.

The light was fading from the edge of the hills; I stared into the shadowy sea of faces, trying to make them out. The area around the piazza had been cleared of tents again. The crowd was quiet, frighteningly so. Teleso led me to the scaffold, then up the steps and on to the platform. No ropes hung tonight, but the cross-beam was directly over my head; I wished fervently that there was some other platform for me to stand on. Teleso let go of my arm and held up his hands for silence.

“Enemies of Ravenna will be dealt with,” he said. “Thieves and marauders will be punished. However, I am not without mercy. You may give them whatever funeral you wish. Their bodies have been returned to you.” He gestured, and I looked down to see two shrouded bodies at the foot of the scaffold. He turned to me, smiling into my horrified face. “They’re all yours,” he said to me, and stepped lightly down the stairs, retreating to the keep. I was alone.