The Hermetica of Elysium (Elysium Texts Series) (36 page)

Nadira smiled and set the cup down. She did not want any wine. “My lord, for some months now I have been carted here and there by interested parties. Men have tied me, gagged me, starved me, fed me, bribed me and threatened me. Each one has been using me to achieve the goal of mastering some obscure power supposedly contained in one small book. Yet, at this moment only have I come to realize something and you have provided me with the key. Tie me if you would. Carry me somewhere else if you wish. None can harm me ever again. You know it now, too, don’t you?” Nadira smiled again, but without humor.

Di Marco nodded. “Do you know what I have learned? I also have learned that you will not harm me.”

“Yet you weep, my lord.”

“Ah, but not from fear.”

“From what, then? We are not enemies, but neither are we friends.” Nadira sat down in a chair, pushed her hair back from her face. Inside her swelled a surge of confidence. She had his heart inside her.

Di Marco rubbed his face again; the flush of his emotional outburst had faded with the wine. “Nadira, you do not know how remarkable you are. It is true what you say. Once a person has realized his abilities he no longer needs to fear anyone or anything. How long have you been working for someone else? How long have you been giving yourself to another, living in the fear of his favor or disapproval? This key you say I have given you, you have had it all the while but would not see it.”

Nadira frowned. Di Marco made a short laugh like the crackle of dry leaves. “Even now you listen too closely to my words. Who am I to tell you what is or is not? Do you see what I am saying?”

Nadira did not like the turn the conversation had taken. She realized the truth in his words, but the weight of the truth was heavy. She shifted in the chair uncomfortably.

“What say you then, my lord, for I am still waiting to hear why you weep?” Nadira turned the conversation back to Di Marco, as deftly as a return of the ball in a game of toss. Di Marco examined the ring on his small finger.

“I weep for me, Nadira. I weep for all the hours I spent in the study of philosophy. Those years I spent huddled over dusty scrolls squinting in the feeble light of an oil lamp or tallow candle. All those years have not prepared me for the shock of feeling your mind in my heart.”

“I pained you, then. Forgive me.”

“No. On the contrary.” Di Marco opened his mouth to say more, but instead positioned himself in the chair again.

Nadira sighed. She wanted to go home.
If I had
a home
. Quickly her mind skipped over the leagues she had traveled.
Back to Barcelona? To Coix?
The tower was gone now. What had happened to master Sofir these long months? Had the Black Friars paid a visit to his house? Nadira knew that the wealthy were the most at risk from the Dominicans. Sofir was an attractive target for their greed. Her mind flew to Montrose, recovering in the small settlement in the valley below the fallen tower, then to William, sitting in a cleric’s cell somewhere.
Why isn’t he with Montrose?
Di Marco cleared his throat; the sound cracked the image. Nadira brought her eyes back to Di Marco’s face. He was looking at her curiously.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“I’m sorry, my lord.”

“You looked as though you were a thousand leagues away.”

“I was. Perhaps not a thousand. Is the world that big?”

“It is many thousands of leagues around. Nadira, I want you to do something for me.”

Nadira sighed deeply. “Yes, my lord, you and all the others.”

“You were reading for Monsieur de Salvo, were you not?”

“I was.”

“And he paid you how?”

“With his mercy.”

“His ‘mercy’? Then he paid you not at all.”

Nadira wagged her head slowly, “He kept me very well, my lord, and he gave sanctuary to my...” she stopped.

Di Marco’s eyebrows had gone up, meeting the trim of his cap. “Your…?” he prodded.

“Never mind. I was satisfied with my compensation.”

“Would you continue to be satisfied if I sent you back?”

Nadira looked at her hands clasped now on the fine table. She had been wringing them without realizing it. “You must know, my lord, that Monsieur Conti is dead. The tower is gone. I saw it torched myself as I was driven away. I cannot go back even should you send me this day.”

Di Marco poured another cup of wine. “He may not be dead. If he is, however, then to whom do you belong?”

Nadira stretched her fingers out over the cloth. The urge to twist her fingers had passed. She glanced up at Di Marco again. With a sad smile she remembered the countless times Montrose had said, “She is mine.” They were the first words out of his mouth whenever a man looked at her. “I belong to Montrose, Lord Montrose.” So be it. She said it too.

“I see. What do you want, Nadira?’

“What do you want from me?” She countered.

“I want you to go somewhere for me. Come back and tell me what you saw.”

“I want my freedom, and passage to Andorra.”

“You are not my prisoner. I do not have the power to release you. I do have much at my disposal, however, and I am known as a generous man.”

Nadira rolled her eyes. “Please, my lord, I have little love of gold, for I have seen it used for more ill than good these last few years. Those who possess it worry over it, perform black deeds to keep it, and darker deeds to acquire more of it. My own desires are modest. I dislike being cold and hungry. I dislike fear and uncertainty. Now I am warm and fed and you have satisfied my concerns for my safety.”

“Do you imply that there is nothing at all you desire, save your freedom and a boat ride?” His lips curled slightly at the corners.

Nadira opened her mouth to reply in the negative, but a thought intruded before her tongue could speak. She closed her mouth, eyeing Di Marco shrewdly. “There is something.”

“Speak.”

“I wish to be reunited with my companions.” Nadira watched his face.

Di Marco stared at her, narrowing his eyes, considering her proposal. Finally, he sat back and joined his long fingers over his stomach, twiddling the thumbs absently.

“You must know the Holy Father gave orders that your ‘companions’ are to be removed from consideration.”

“Such euphemism,” Nadira snorted. “Lord Montrose is not easily killed, as many have discovered these last few months. Even now he is not dead.”

“But considerably decreased in capacity.” Di Marco’s smile lengthened. “You ask me to stand against the pope, risk my fortune, my position…”

“My lord, we are negotiating.”

“I cannot allow you to leave. His Holiness expects you to come to him for an audience. I must have you there. Ask for something else.”

“Bring Lord Montrose here.”

“Ah!” Di Marco threw his head back and laughed, “Right here? Never.”

“Do you fear him, then?” Nadira turned her head slightly so she could look at him from the corners of her eyes. With a smooth motion, she took his cup and drained it. The wine slid down her throat and went directly to her head. She felt giddy.

Di Marco tapped the side of his nose. “Who should I fear? The pope? Montrose? You?”

She smiled at him and pushed her hair back over her head in a gesture that had become more common since the loss of her braid. The inconvenient length made it difficult to control. Di Marco followed the movement with his eyes. Nadira saw him making a decision. Slowly, a smile crept across his lips like a cat stalking a bird.

He reached out and took her hand. “Come with me, Nadira, my dear friend. I have something to show you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

N
ADIRA
followed him with curiosity. She moved with him through a long corridor, he pulled her behind him faster than she liked. He allowed her very little time to peek into the rooms along the hall. Some of the ornate doors were closed; others were standing open revealing luxurious rooms with large windows and sumptuous draperies. Nadira was jerked past them as Di Marco accelerated around a corner.

He stopped suddenly, buffeted as she collided with him before a very plain door. Di Marco fumbled in his sleeves for a large iron key. Nadira looked around as he struggled with the lock. After a moment, he pushed the heavy door inward, and then pulled her in with him, closing the door and locking it with great care. The room was dark. Nadira stayed close to Di Marco’s elbow as he finished securing the door. When the metal clank assured him that the lock had set, he surprised her by reaching over and pulling a heavy beam down and positioning it across the egress in the fittings bolted on either side. He pulled on the door to test the seal before turning to her.

“Open the drapes, Nadira, but just a little.”

She moved to the window and pulled the heavy velvet aside. A bright beam of sunlight penetrated the murky atmosphere of what now appeared to be a small room in the intersection of two walls of a large house. Nadira looked through the window. She thought she might be on the third floor. Di Marco pulled her back from the glass.

“I said pull back the drapes, not hang yourself out there for everyone to see!”

“I was just looking around. This is a very nice house,” she added.

Di Marco frowned at her. “Do not tell me you have lost all sense now. You had me convinced you are not what you seem, then you go and say something like that.” He looked piqued.

Nadira laughed, “I did not mean to offend, dear Di Marco. I am merely playing your game.”

“This is no game, Nadira. This is of the greatest importance. Please be serious.” The light from the opened draperies assailed the darkness. Nadira turned about, looking at the walls. Each wall was painted floor to ceiling with figures, plants, animals and landscapes. Each wall was different. One was a seascape, one was an erupting volcano, one was a vineyard and one was an open view from the top of a high mountain. Nadira moved closer to examine the color and the technique of the artist, but Di Marco grabbed her arm. “No time for art appreciation today, my dear. Please have a seat and I will bring your refreshments.”

“I’m not hungry. You are a fine host, but please do not stop me from looking at these fine…” she lost the word.

“Frescoes. I am not offering you food for your body, but a feast for your mind. Wait here. Remain seated. I beg you, do not disobey me.”

Di Marco paused to be sure she heard him. When she did not answer, he moved to the great cabinet against the vineyard wall and unlocked the doors, keeping one eye on Nadira as he did so. She leaned back in her chair and studied the ceiling, which was the wheel of the zodiac painted in bright colors. Di Marco pulled a dusty brown jug from the back of the cabinet and brought it to the table. His other hand clasped the neck of a wine bottle. Nadira met his eyes.

“What’s this?” she asked pleasantly.

“An elixir.”

“Ah, yes, you alchemists. Busy, busy, busy. All the time bubbling, cooking distilling…”

“This is a special elixir, Nadira. Perhaps Monsieur Conti shared some of his with you?”

“What does yours taste like?”

“It’s bitter, yes, it tastes sharp.”

“Maybe not. Monsieur’s tasted like dirt.”

“Ah, so you’ve had some of that one. This one is different. Very different.”

Nadira stared at him. She saw the excitement in his face. He poured a glass of wine from the bottle he had also removed from the cabinet. He was clearly exhilarated by whatever he was planning for her. “How is it different?” she asked slowly.

Di Marco sat down across from her. “Well, first of all it is stronger. It does not take as long to work. It is brighter and there are more colors where you go. And Nadira, you will be able
to
hear
with this one.” Di Marco’s fingers tapped on the table. “Say you will try it.”

Nadira raised her eyebrows. She pushed the hair back from her face again, stretched out her legs. She was not afraid to try this new elixir; her curiosity was too strong to pass up such an opportunity. What did Di Marco want?

“And what do you desire, my lord,” she asked him.

“I only wish for you to go somewhere, listen and come back. Tell me what you heard.”

“How will I get there?” Nadira knew that navigating required a visual landmark. On the other journeys she had directed herself.

“I will guide you with my voice. I will bring you safely back. I have no desire to do you injury. In fact, my life depends upon your safe delivery to His Holiness three days from today.”

Nadira narrowed her eyes, feeling him with her mind as she had learned to do. He was excited and he was eager; she did not detect any malice. “And my terms?”

“I will see what I can do.”

“No, my lord Di Marco. That is not enough. Send someone to find him and tell him where I am. Bring him to me.” Nadira nodded to herself.
Now
he is mine.

“As you say, he is not easily captured.”