I hardly see any difference between the count of Provence and a demon straight out of hell. But I stand bravely before him, trying not to be impressed by his threats. "Ottone Visconti has strong support from the Pope, and his family has nothing to fear."
"Poor Ottone is already having a hard time winning the trust and love of Milan's people. Napoleone della Torre, the leader of the Guelph party, hates Archbishop Visconti so much that one day they will clash under the walls of Milan," the count predicts. "The inquisitors are all-powerful in Rome, and the Cortenovas will not be protected any more than the other Lombard heretics."
Distraught by the Capetian's words, I think of Eriprando and his parents.
Could they be in great peril?
The count came dangerously close, trapping me in the depths of his study against heavy drapes.
"The Pope's agents have posted spies around Mozzanica. The Cortenovas and the fortress inhabitants will be killed or captured and tortured. You better worry about your husband's fate, yours too. The inquisitors are very imaginative regarding torture and execution," he says with an evil smile. "They break bones, pierce entrails, cut out the tongues of those who finally confessed what they were guilty of, or innocent of. I saw them cut a man from his penis to his chest! And the fate of women is ruthless because the Inquisitors have instruments that shred their breasts or sink between their thighs."
He's very close now, close enough to grab me with his hands. "It isn't certain that female pleasure is the goal of the torturers who work on their bodies," he whispers. "So, without my protection, you're lost, my sweet Ada, and your husband too."
He crushes my shoulders, forcing me back again against the drapes. Despite his horrible threats, I try to escape from him, but he violently pulls me against him. I struggle with the despair of an animal caught in a net as his fingers tear my gown with ferocity.
I can hardly breathe, let alone speak. Exhausted, shuddering with fear at what the count has planned, I collapse on the luxurious carpets warming the floor. Then he finishes undressing me with a concupiscent glance.
Satisfied, he abandons me for a brief moment and moves away to remove the drapes masking a large bed with carved and painted ornaments. I tremble more and more, and my skin burns as this monster drags me to the bed like an unfortunate bride.
Victorious face, he takes off his embroidered cloak and then his hose. Taken by a wave of nausea, I try to recover my breath to make his crime as difficult as possible.
And I see her.
She's very young, fourteen, fifteen at the most. With her arms full of wooden logs, the little chambermaid must have been instructed to keep the fire from going out in the palace fireplaces. Stunned, she cannot take her eyes off the two naked silhouettes on the bed, that of her master and a pale creature with golden hair.
The count put his ignoble hands on my breasts, his half-opened mouth seeking mine brutally. And then he has a gasp of surprise. "What are you doing here?" he yells at the maid.
"Your Grace, forgive me," she moans. "Your Grace is never so late in his study."
With a quick movement, he gets up without bothering to cover himself.
"Out of my sight!" he orders, filled with rage.
Terrorized, the young girl runs away, and the count turns in the room like a caged wild beast. I take the opportunity to wrap myself with a blanket, hoping to escape too. I pick up my gown and head for the carved wooden door.
"Not that way!" the count says briefly.
He roughly grabs my arm and leads me to a hidden exit.
"This passage leads to your room! I have to solve this problem as soon as possible."
Suddenly, he seizes my face and forces me to accept a repulsive kiss.
"No need to resist, my beauty! My embraces will fill you as many times as it pleases me, and we will quickly finish what we started so well," he promises with a touch of regret.
A wall closed on me. I find myself shivering in a maze of dark and icy corridors, realizing I have temporarily escaped the count's assaults.
But, alas, that disgusting pig is waiting for another occasion to submit me to his will.
***
YOU ARE READING
The Wolf and the Snake (English version)
Historical FictionIn 1099, a mysterious child of noble origin was taken in by Jews who had fled the Crusaders' arrival in front of Jerusalem. Years later, Ada, the descendant of this child, travels through Palestine with her father. He's a merchant and knows medicin...
