Cascade (24 page)

A group of knights had spotted us.

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.