From Hell with Love (11 page)

Niccolo crept down the hallway until he came to his lover’s door, pausing once he was standing within inches of the rich maple.  He wondered what he could say to his future wife; wondered how much he would be able to confide in the young girl.  She undoubtedly loved him, but this mark of shame on his arm might be enough to sway her toward apathy or even revulsion.  Niccolo took a deep breath before tapping softly at the door with his fingertips, anxious at the coming conversation.

“Nico,” she whispered on the other side of the doorway, holding her breath, “is that you?”

“Yes, my love,” he whispered back, which caused the woman on the other side of the barrier to fumble for the handle, opening the door for her lover.

“I was not sure you would come, I sent messages through the servants,” she said, the breath catching in her throat once she saw Niccolo’s appearance.  “What happened?” Camilla asked with worry laboring her words.

“Nothing, my love,” Niccolo said as he straightened himself up and walked past her into her room.  “I have had a number of revelations; that is all.”

“Revelations?  Nico, you look ill!  On the bed, go,” she commanded before walking over to the windowsill and grabbing the candle.

“We’re not married yet, my love,” Niccolo joked, but he followed her command and sat down on the feather mattress; it was far more comfortable than the straw he was used to.  His future wife scoffed as she sat down on the bed beside him and held the candle up to his face.

“Quiet.  What is wrong, Nico?” she asked again, knowing that a simple revelation would not have this effect on the merchant’s son.  His skin was pallid; sweat seemed to pour from his brow.  It had only been a few hours since his conversation with Carlo, but his condition had deteriorated.  The pain and itching coming from the sores on his arm was almost maddening.

“I told you,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice from sounding strained.  “Revelations of import.  It kept me busy and away from you.”

“I should say so.  You’ve never found a way to resist breaking into my house for even a day, Niccolo.  I half-thought you had jumped on a ship and left to some exotic place to escape our coming marriage,” Camilla joked, grabbing the end of her blanket and using it to wipe Niccolo’s brow.  “But Nico, I don’t see how any information would cause you to look like this.”

“Oh, Camilla, sometimes I am able to resist your charms,” he said with a smile, seeing her face still filled with skepticism.  “My father told me a few things.”

“And what are these things?” she asked, placing the blanket in her lap and folding her right hand over her left.

“I…have been given the opportunity to arrange a proposal with a man named Lorenzo Innocenti.  I am now officially a part of my father’s business,” he said with false pride, hoping that his love would be impressed by the name.  Instead, her eyes narrowed to slits.

“Innocenti?  Niccolo, I’m afraid I must be confused.  Innocenti has never been the most reputable of people,” she said, glaring at the man on her bed.

“Well,” Niccolo started, knowing that he was arguing against what he knew to be true, “I have it on good authority that making a deal with the man would be in our best interest.  But this is exciting, my love!  I will have my own responsibilities and will become the kind of man you would want to marry,” he said, placing his right hand on hers. 

“Nico…” she trailed off, biting her lip before shaking her head.  “A man is allowed to make his own mistakes, but you know that I don’t care about all of that.  I would be just as happy with you if you waited a few more years.  Waited for a better…opportunity,” she hesitated on the word, skeptical of Niccolo’s sense in the matter.  Camilla placed his extended hand between her own and looked him in the eye.  “My love, are you sure there is nothing else?  Are you sure there’s nothing more that you want to tell me?”

Niccolo looked at the woman he loved and tried to hide his reaction.  He tried to hide his fear and his apprehension.  Although he wanted to tell Camilla everything, he just could not risk it, especially if Innocenti would come through for him and give him his cure.  It was best if Niccolo kept the truth from her, if she was to never learn of his illness.

“I have told you everything, Camilla.  I promise you that.”

“Good,” she said, still wary at the young man’s words, “but now that it’s settled, you really have no excuse to have kept me in the dark these two days.  Don’t do that again, Nico.  I have little use for cowards and liars.  I know you’re a merchant’s son, but do try to resist your nature.”

“Oh, my love, my nature is exactly what brought us together,” he teased, which brought a smile from the dark-haired beauty sitting on the bed.  She leaned forward to kiss him, which Niccolo was tempted to fall into, but at the last second he remembered his affliction.  He backed away, which prompted the woman to look at him with skepticism.

“Wha-?” Camilla started in surprise, but Niccolo just raised his finger to his lips.

“Now, now, who’s not resisting their nature?” he teased before getting up, realizing the temptation was just too great while they were together.  This was why it had taken so long for him to talk to her; the merchant’s son did not want to spread his disease to her fair skin.

“You’re a monster, Nico,” she said as she stood up, crossing her arms in front of her.

“It’s too bad you’re about to be married to me, isn’t it?” he asked as he backed away from her.  Camilla shook her head at that.

“I’ll just have to find some way to deal with you.”

“I have heard that garlic works for some of the undead,” Niccolo said as he placed his hand on the door.  The woman gave a short laugh before grabbing the candle near her bed, snuffing it out so that the two of them were left in the moonlight streaming from her window.

“I will be sure to have the servants prepare our meals with a great deal of garlic, then.”

“Oh, you are so cruel, my love,” he teased, a smile on his face but sorrow clouding his mind.

“Then we are perfect for each other.  I trust you will see your way out without harm?” she asked, moving so that the moonlight framed her body, the light reflecting off her dark hair.  Niccolo thought that the woman looked like an angel as she stood there.

“Harm shall be the last thing that comes to me,” Niccolo said with a wink that he was not sure she had seen, and then departed from her room in silence.  As he left, Niccolo hoped that Innocenti had heard of their impending negotiations.  If nothing else, Niccolo needed to be healthy and whole for the woman he left in the moonlight.

That angel would not be exposed to his disease.  Not in this lifetime.

***

When the merchant’s son returned to the Vespucci estate, he found that his door was slightly ajar.  He pushed through the doorway to find that the curtain that usually covered his window had been drawn aside, a package conveniently left in the slit of moonlight that crossed the room.  Niccolo knew then that Innocenti had a very useful web of information and that, in his own way, he was a man of honor.

Niccolo closed the door behind him and lit a candle that was sitting on a nearby table.  He stared at the box for a moment, considering what could lie inside.  It could have been anything, Niccolo had heard rumors of the different cures for leprosy, but none of the possibilities were pleasant.  The merchant’s son stood there, contemplating the box’s contents, before the ache in his arm started again.  This time it seemed to affect his shoulder, as well, and Niccolo took that as a poor sign.  Whatever cure was inside the box, it was apparent Niccolo needed to use it.

The box was a small thing, plain and simple, and it was kept closed by a simple latch.  The only remarkable thing about it was where it had been found and the note which had been sealed to the top.  Niccolo took the package over to the table and then pried off the seal, which came off with only a small amount of effort.  When Niccolo sat down at his chair and opened up the folded paper, he found that the message was in a very plain script.

Young Vespucci,

You have not disappointed me, so it is with great joy that I give you your cure.  It is said that this ailment can be undone by a trace amount of venom from a particular viper.  Due to my connections, you now have a specimen of this particular viper.

I have taken the liberty of placing it in a small container.  Be wary, it will try to bite you, but that is the desired effect, I believe.  Perhaps you should open it with your sores directed toward the viper.  It should not kill you, but I’m sure you know the dangers of medicine.  If you do feel like dying, Young Vespucci, at least keep my name out of it.

Niccolo read the message twice, hoping that he had misread the thing, but after a moment he remembered a hazy conversation in a tavern not too long ago.  A sailor had sworn by snake venom for all kinds of ailments, including leprosy.  The merchant’s son glared at the simple box, now aware of what lay inside, and wondered if he perhaps could deal with being a beggar for the rest of his life.  One flash of Camilla’s face was enough to shake the boy back to his senses, so Niccolo set about taking off his shirt.  It did not catch on his sores like before, but once he had taken off the garment, he was able to see the bandages on his left arm.

It was worse than he thought it would be.  Niccolo had tried to ignore it throughout the day, but what he saw was alarming.  Although he was prepared for the yellow of dried pus and the brown of dried blood, he did not like the puckering occurring at the edge of the bandages.  The disease was still spreading; it covered almost the entire length of his upper arm and was almost at the crest of his shoulder.  If he was to use this cure, it would have to be now, before it had gotten closer to his heart.

Niccolo unwrapped the bandages on his arm and tried to ignore the pain that came with the cloth tearing at the scabbed tissue.  There were now eight welts scattered around his arm, marring his skin in deep patches.  He breathed in deeply as he sat exposed in his room, looking at the box which held the poison which could heal him.  The merchant’s son only needed the memory of Camilla’s face in order to steel his resolve.

When Niccolo opened the container, the viper did not strike immediately; it sat there in the straw before turning to look at Niccolo, its tongue flickering in and out in order to perceive the world beyond the box.  After just a moment, Niccolo quickly put out his left hand, trying to grab the viper by the neck, but the movement was enough to make the animal feel threatened.  It lashed out, sinking its exposed fangs into the flesh of Niccolo’s palm.  It stung the merchant’s son, but he instinctually brought his fingers down to keep the snake there while bringing out his other hand to grab a hold of the viper’s body.

The pain burned through his palm, but Niccolo did his best to keep his wits about him, keeping his hold on the viper but falling out of the chair he was sitting in.  He fought against his own reactions and moved his right hand along the creature’s body, trying to find purchase around the thing’s neck.  The rest of its body coiled around his right arm, but he tried to ignore that.  Luckily, the pain from his left hand was enough to make that an easy prospect.

Soon enough, he was able to wrestle his right thumb and index finger up to the sides of the viper’s neck and squeezed, causing the animal’s jaw to slacken.  Niccolo withdrew the creature’s fangs from his left hand, the translucent teeth illuminated by the moonlight pouring from his window.  The palm of his left hand was already swelling and he felt dizzy from the snake’s venom, but he knew he could not just lie there.

With a shaking hand, still holding onto the struggling snake, Niccolo brought his cure toward his diseased arm.  He took a couple of deep breaths before sniffing and bringing the viper’s fangs into the meat just below his shoulder.  Niccolo held the viper there for a moment, feeling the venom entering his bloodstream, before withdrawing the creature’s fangs.  Staying conscious became a struggle, but Niccolo brought the viper down to the middle of his upper arm and repeated the process, enduring the pain for any potential cure which could be found.

Niccolo was only able to deliver one more dose to the skin just above his elbow before it all became too much.  His arm was still burning, though it was a sort of numb warmth that enveloped him.  The world swam above him, becoming incoherent.  He almost thought he saw Camilla for a moment, but he realized he had just wanted to see her.  As the viper slipped from his fingers, escaping to a corner of the room, Niccolo drifted off to a painful sleep.

It seemed like moments before the dawn sun was burning through his eyelids, but as soon as he realized that he was not dead, Niccolo gasped toward consciousness.  His arm throbbed, but the merchant son’s first reaction was to look for the viper, his potential cure.  Niccolo could not find the snake, but he realized that it did not much matter.  He had already used the beast for its purpose and he could eliminate the creature later if he needed to.  What concerned him most was whether or not the viper had done its job, but when he looked down to his side, he was horrified to find that the rash and welts had spread to his shoulder and to his lower arm.

His cure had only served to cause his worst nightmare.

***

“Marco!”

The inebriated Italian opened his eyes, realizing that he was far closer to the floor than he should be.  He also felt a stinging sensation on the left side of his face, but that was not particularly uncommon.  When he rolled over, however, he saw that his dear friend was shouting above him, breathing heavily.

“Nico, what have I said about waking me up?  Violence is never the answer,” he said, groaning as he sat up to his knees and then rubbed his face.  Marco realized that he felt wet and wondered if he was drooling, but then he realized his entire upper body was covered in water.

“Sometimes it’s the only thing you respond to, Marco!” he shouted before pacing around the room, more nervous and excited than the drunk had ever seen him.  Immediately, Marco knew something was wrong, so he got to his feet, stumbled into the nearby wall, and then gathered himself so that he could talk to his young friend.