CHAPTER 25

“You there! Come ashore!” demanded the head knight, stepping down onto the dock and shielding his eyes for a better view of us.

We could see him fairly well among the torches his men held high. But we had to be little more than a dim form on the black river to him. I frowned down at my gown and tried to make myself lie more flat at the bottom of the low-sided skiff, ignoring the cold puddle of water seeping into my skirts.

Lia knelt next to me, her bow at her side, arrow in hand, ready.

“Come! Now!” the man demanded as we drifted past him, not fifty feet from his dock.

“Nay, m’lord!” Marcello called, regret in his voice. “We cannot. We’ve been sent by the grandi of Firenze to deliver precious cargo to the front. And we must make haste. The Sienese have breached the gates and even now flood across the Rubaconte.”

The captain faltered and gazed upriver. Given the activity behind him, I could tell that the alarm had reached this part of the city. More and more torches were lit ahead, making it appear that something indeed might be transpiring up there.

He peered at us as we eased down the river. “You men alone?”

“Only a dock wench to help us pass the time,” said Luca with a laugh.

I could feel Lia shaking her head, even in the dark.

And I could feel Luca’s grin.

“Well, be on the lookout for the Lady Betarrini,” the captain said uneasily. “The foul dogs have freed her and escaped!”

Marcello sputtered, as if shocked by the news. “Indeed! I’ll kill any man myself who dares steal our prize!”

I bit down on my lip, wanting to laugh at his double meaning, even as my heart continued to pound.

The knight gestured for his men to enter a skiff. “I must send my men to check your cargo,” he said apologetically. “Protocol and all.”

“Understood. As long as they do not force us to tarry upon our mission.”

“They shall not,” the man promised.

I peered over the edge and watched the knights load into their skiff.

“Do you know how to swim?” Marcello whispered to me.

“Yes.”

“She’ll sink like a stone in that heavy gown,” Luca warned, eyeing the skiff with the knights leaving the dock.

“All she must do is stay hidden and hold on. We have little choice,” Marcello said grimly. “Forgive me, love.”

“No, you’re right,” I said. There really was no option; it was our only chance. I only hoped I had the strength to hold onto the edge.

Marcello handed me a knife. “Move quickly. Mayhap you can shed some of that fabric before they’re upon us. We’ll buy you a little time.” He turned and dug into the water with his oar. Luca did the same.

Across from me, Lia unpinned her hair and tossed it about, playing the part of a dock maid. I turned and handed her the knife. She took off the short train first, leaving a ragged edge. Then I took out a length from either side. Yards of fabric were at my feet.

“You there!” called the knight behind us. “Pull up!” We could clearly see them, with a lamp held aloft, but we knew we were likely still little more than a dark form on the water.

“Ah, yes sir, right away sir,” Luca called over his shoulder. Turning to me, he said, “Time for an evening dip, m’lady. We don’t wish them to find the treasured contraband aboard.”

I didn’t wait. Anticipating the cold only made it worse. I lay down on my stomach at the edge and then slipped over the side, peeking from the far side of the skiff as I made my way, hand over hand, to the front. We were moving at a quick enough pace that the teal gown was apt to spread out, making it more visible than ever. The only way to go unseen would be to let my body float beneath the shallow-bottomed skiff, effectively hiding it. I reached the front and felt my knees bump against the bottom.

“Excellent.” Marcello dared to kneel and kiss my forehead when they were but twenty feet behind us. “Most beautiful mermaid I’ve ever come across.”

“You must not sail a great deal,” I whispered back with a smile.

“I could sail the seven seas and never find another like you, Gabriella.” Casually, he wrapped the fabric we’d cut away around an anchoring stone and let it slip into the water beside me. Then he covered my fingers with the edge of his cape and rose to greet the men on the other skiff, now coming alongside ours.

I lowered my head as deep as I could, just keeping my nose and ears above water.

The water was perhaps sixty degrees, and I was already shivering. Given my hunger and weakness, I didn’t know how long I could hang on. But Marcello knows, I thought, trying to comfort myself. He’ll hurry them along as fast as he can.

One knight clambered aboard and paused, now within my view. “Never seen you on the docks, woman,” he said to Lia. “Do you serve at the tavern near the bridge?”

“Nay,” she said, with a hint of flirtation. “I favor another.”

“Lord Calidori’s inn,” Luca put in.

“Ahh. I shall have to relinquish some of my coin in that establishment, on occasion.” He leered at Lia and turned toward Marcello. “Sir, I need to see your papers for transit of cargo. Or a letter of passage?”

“Yes, about that,” Marcello said. “You see, we have no official papers. Our sole mission is to deliver this lovely lady to the front, to a Lord Paratore. Apparently, he won a key battle today, and the grandi of Firenze wish to reward him. Unofficially, of course.”

The knight guffawed, and so did the men behind him.

“I see,” he said, his two words heavy with meaning. I could just imagine him leering over at Lia again. “He shall be most gratified. Nothing like a victory on the battlefield and a woman to warm a man’s bed come night.”

“Indeed.” I could hear the tightness in Marcello’s voice. Could the soldier hear it?

“I still need to have your name, sir.”

“Sir Antonio Fernandini,” Marcello said, “of Umbria.”

The knight paused. “Forgive me, Sir. Since we have not yet met, I need to see your letter of passage, at the very least. As you heard, there has been an escape this night—”

“Does this look like the bride who was put into your cage?”

The knight paused and then laughed. “Lady Betarrini was a lady, every inch of her. This one is clearly a harlot in a lady’s gown.”

“Well, then…”

“Forgive me,” said the knight with a small laugh. “I shall not keep you any longer.”

I waited, but did not feel the rock of the skiff, telling me the enemy had unloaded. Everyone was quiet. He’d edged out of my view so I couldn’t see what kept him from moving.

Come on, I urged silently. My hands ached with the cold; my entire body was trembling.

“Is there something wrong, sir?” Marcello asked.

I wanted to peek over the edge so badly. But I made myself stay down, out of sight.

“This bow and quiver of arrows. To whom does it belong?”

“Me, sir,” Luca said. “Though I’ve yet to pierce a Sienese scoundrel myself.”

The knight paused again. I glanced up at Marcello’s back. Was he tensing?

“Why, this is a bead.” Beads. From the bodice of my gown. They must have popped off when we cut the fabric—or when I slipped over the edge. I tensed. From the direction of his voice, I guessed he’d picked it up from the bottom of the skiff. “And here is another. From your gown, miss?” He looked over at Lia, obviously took in her unadorned skirts, and then looked to Marcello again. His voice grew more strident. “There was another lady this day, in a gown heavy with beading. All of Firenze spoke of the gown’s magnificence.”

Marcello laughed. “Well, as you can clearly see, we have no ladies in beaded gowns present,” he said. “Though I’d welcome a maid of my own this cold night.”

The knight of Firenze did not laugh. I could tell from the reflection on the water that the other two were now standing in their own skiff.

I closed my eyes in frustration then looked to the side, trying to get my bearings. We were nearly clear of the last bridge outside of town. So close…so close!

“It is them!” the knight cried. He pulled his sword, as did the four others directly after him. “’Tis Lady Evangelia Betarrini, and I’d wager this is Sir Marcello Forelli,” he said over his shoulder. “Knights to arms!” he screamed into the dark sky. “Knights to arms!”

“Now that will not do,” Luca said, leaping forward, his sword clanging against the interloper’s. The skiff rocked crazily, and I gasped, nearly losing my grip. “You offend me, not knowing my name too.”

Marcello left my line of vision, entering the fray. Someone fell into the water between our skiffs, and the boat rocked again. Lia shrieked and then yelled. I heard the thrum of her bow and a cry from the other skiff.

Marcello and the first knight fell down at the front end of the skiff, rolling from one side to the other. I heard Marcello grunt, and they rolled again, this time with the enemy knight atop him, hands around his neck. I hovered in the water, wondering if I should stay hidden or leap up, help Marcello—when the knight’s eyes widened, spying me there.

It was the opening Marcello needed. He plunged a dagger into the man’s neck. Blood spurted down, into my eyes, and in horror, I pushed down, intending to just wash off, so I could see again. But at that moment, the skiff rocked precariously again, and I lost my grip.

I was under the skiff, riding along in the current.

For a long moment, I wondered if this would be it. If I would drown here, in the waters of the river Arno.

But then the boat was no longer on top of me. I rose, gasping for air, and felt a strong hand grab my forearm. “There you are, m’lady,” Luca said, hauling me halfway over the edge, before turning to meet another knight’s strike, punching him in the face and then, when he hovered at the edge, shoving him backward into the water.

Lia crawled over to me, then helped me all the way into the skiff.

Men were running along the river’s edge, holding torches high. Light danced across the water to us.

“Well, that’s not good,” Luca said.

“Truly?” Marcello said, panting. “’Tis not good to have half of Firenze alerted that we are here?”

“Nay,” Luca said, tucking a thumb in his belt. “If we are to properly free Lady Betarrini, then all of Firenze must be chasing us. That is the makings of legend.”

Marcello reached down and waited until I placed my frigid fingers into his. He bent down and kissed my knuckles. “I believe Gabriella has endured quite enough to give the bards sufficient yeast for their bloated tales.”

Luca shrugged as if he didn’t want to argue it. I knew that he was just kidding around, back to his normal cocky self. It strengthened me, to see him well again. It gave me hope that I might be too, sometime soon.

But my eyes moved to the next bridge, just ahead of us. Men were running across it, even now, getting ready to meet us. Would I never be free of this cursed city? I’d always liked Firenze, in my old life. Michelangelo’s David, the bronze doors of the Baptistery, the passageways beneath the magnificent brick dome…but right then, I decided it’d be fine with me if I never saw the place again.

“Get me home to Siena,” I said to Marcello through chattering teeth.

He stared down at me. “I shall, Gabriella. Trust me.”

I looked back up into his eyes. The guy had no doubt braved several battles, crossed a heavily fortified border, breached an enemy city wall, and found a way to get me this far. If there was anyone I could trust, it was him. “I do,” I said, my teeth chattering.

He reached for his cape and wound it around my shoulders. “One more battle,” he said, kissing my forehead. “Then we’ll be free of this city so intent on keeping you.”

He turned and studied the bridge again. We could see fifteen torches, more on their way. “We need a bit of distraction, Evangelia,” he said. “Flaming arrows might do the trick.”

She smiled and immediately moved to the front of the skiff. In short order, she’d torn off some of her underskirts and wound them around the tip of her arrow.

Luca reached for the lantern we’d scored from the guys who tried to intercept us, and opened the door so that she could light the first. “Take into account the added weight,” he said, as she pulled it away, the flame licking upward.

“Indeed,” she said. She glanced toward the bridge, gauging the distance, seemingly able to ignore the flame, growing, licking terribly close to her bowstring.

If that reaches the sinew—

But then it was away, arcing up and onto the roof. It hit and clattered down between the tiles.

“Good, but the next two need to hit something flammable,” Marcello said. “We must put this lantern out. In seconds, they’ll be firing back upon us.”

Luca was already wrapping the next arrow. Lia bent to light it, and Luca wrapped another.

We were getting close enough that we could hear the men downstream, above the wash of the river. Two fired arrows at us; one hit the back of the skiff, the other to our left side. “Snuff it out,” Marcello said again in a growl.

“Just a moment,” Lia mumbled, sending the arrow flying, already reaching for the next.

Marcello and I watched as the last sputtered and seemed to go out, even as it reached its intended target—a thatched roof. But then three seconds later, a flame grew where it rested. “You did it, Lia!” I cried.

“This shall be,” she said, releasing the third flaming arrow, “even more true.”

It hit the opposite side, nestling into the reeds of another thatched roof.

Men began to cry out, abandoning their posts now to go and fight the fire.

“One more,” she said.

Three arrows sliced down, right beside us. All three went into the water, but they missed the skiff by inches.

“Last one,” Marcello said, letting her light it.

We were but fifty feet from the bridge, which was coming fast, since the river narrowed here.

Lia fired, and the fourth arrow went into an open window. Immediately, we could see light dancing inside.

“You have done well, Evangelia,” Marcello said. “Now all three of you, prepare to be boarded.” Thinking better of putting out the lantern, he set it upon the other skiff, and together, he and Luca gave it a mighty shove, then did their best to put distance between it and us. With some luck, our enemies would think the other skiff carried us. He turned toward me. “Do you have the strength to wield a sword?”

“And a dagger, m’lord,” I returned, even though my teeth still chattered. There was no way I was going to enter this fight unarmed…

He grinned and handed me both, courtesy of the dead Firenze knights. “What do you say we take the battle to them?”

“Wh-what?”

“Do you trust me, Gabriella?”

“I do, but—”

But he was already over with Luca and Lia, telling them in a whisper what was about to come down.

Atop the bridge, twenty feet away and fifteen feet above us, people battled two major flames, and a third was growing, seemingly undiscovered as yet. We could hear the confusion in their voices.

They escape! Water! We need water! Stop them! Seize them! Fire! They approach! There they are! Arrows away, you fools!

The other skiff drew their fire for a bit, until the torchlight finally reached both boats, and it was clear none of us was upon the other. We sensed the mob above move toward us, even as we finally entered the relative protection of the great stone arches.

Fire! Over here! They’re beneath the bridge! Here they come! Ready yourselves!

Marcello grabbed hold of me at the waist, and even in the deep shadows, I could see that there was a narrow dock beside the arches, with a steep stair stretching upward to the bottom of a shop. Cargo dock. We landed hard upon it, with Luca and Lia right behind us.

I sank to the stair while the three of them turned and lifted the edge of the skiff. In a second, they had it tipped and let it loose.

Where are they? Do you see them? The scoundrels! Bring water! Do they swim? Keep alert! They may be in the water!

We were underneath a trapdoor that opened onto the bridge. No one was directly above us, by the sound of it. A rope appeared hanging from the arch to our left, and a man came sliding down it, yelling.

“Evangelia—” Luca began.

But her arrow had already pierced our attacker’s neck, and he fell to the top of the skiff, dead.

“Have I told you how much I think of your sister?” Luca asked with a grin. Marcello was through the cargo door and reached down to help me up. Lia came next, then Luca. We stood in the center of a tiny shop atop the bridge.

Outside, we could hear the melee.

There they are! They’ve overturned! One is dead! No, that’s our man! A woman screamed. Where are they? Fire! You fools, leave them to drown and come and douse this fire before all is lost!

I pulled Marcello’s dark cape closer, trying to cover every bit of the luxurious gown I could. He reached back, took my hand, and then dived out the door, running decidedly to the left.

Lia put her hand on my shoulder, clearly determined to not get separated.

It was a crazy scene. The bridge had been overbuilt, with two- and even three-story houses, side by side, all the way across it. On the bottom level were shops, with homes above. Men, women, and children ran, fleeing the flames. Knights dashed along the edge, searching the dark, roiling waters for us. Men swore and shouted orders. Women screamed. Children cried.

“That way!” Marcello said anxiously, thumping a man on the shoulder and pointing beyond us. “They’ve cleared the bridge!”

The man ran on, never looking back at us.

He’s brilliant, I thought, staring up at the silhouette of Marcello’s curly hair as he led us forward. Had we cleared the other side of the bridge on the skiff, they would have pierced our backs with arrows.

This was our only way. And in the confusion, it looked like we just might make it out. Everyone seemed either preoccupied by the fires or looking for us in the water.

That was my thought.

Right before a troop of six massive knights stopped fifteen feet from us, swords drawn.