Something was wrong.
The moment a fist had banged on the front door, the air stilled, holding it's breath. There was an uneasy feeling creeping from one to another, slowly, crawling up their spines, making their heads turn the same direction, waiting.
But when there was no servant sent first to announce the visitor, they knew. Steps thundered down the corridor, louder and louder like a nearing stampede until the rattling of spurs rang within Laelia's head.
Soldiers, armed. And there was only one family in all of Florence that could dare to oppose the church. De'Medici.
Black eyes and a sharp smile danced through Laelia's vision as the steps stopped, right in front of the library. Luca -- she didn't know why, but -- he had said he was headed for the Medici palace. No, that was ridiculous. He had been kind, he was just a banker, this was a mere coincidence, dozens of strangers came and went at the Medici palace, she didn't even know what had happened, if something had happened.
Laelia's hand crept to her waist when the door flew open and the guards poured in. Whatever it was -- it wasn't bad. It was catastrophic. Terrible enough to warrant ten soldiers forcing entry into a cleric's villa. Her hand closed around a small pouch. She was no longer helpless.
The men parted, swords clanking when they made way for their captain. Laelia straightened up in her seat -- she caught Amand shifting subtly, half shielding Marius behind him. No one spoke a word.
They were dressed in harsh black leather, sharp iron studs lining the edges as if they had all been nailed into their duty. Black capes, fastened at the shoulder with the Medici coat of arms. Black boots, silver spores sharp enough to cut more than just a slow horse.
They were eons from the polished men with their neat beards and shining livery usually guarding noble palaces. These were soldiers, christened in blood.
Laelia squirmed when the captain stepped closer, hand on his sword. He looked exactly like his men, no unnecessary decor, nothing discerning him from his men except the large black hat he wore, long black feather bobbing with every slow step. Strong features betrayed no emotion.
"It is impolite to not take off one's hat when entering a house," Laelia said, plastering a smile onto her lips.
The captain hadn't paid her any attention -- woman was synonymous with doll sitting in the corner until someone wished to play with it. Now, he slowly turned. Grey eyes bore into Laelia like a knife. "We ain't here to be courteous, Lady." His voice was slow, rough, like stones grinding together. "We serve the Lady Medici. Father Fromm comes with us."
For just a second, Marius' face twisted in confusion, before he smoothed it back into his eternally detached smile. The slow breath he forced out betrayed his worry. Amand no longer indulged in subtlety, stepping in front of him with a grim expression.
Laelia hoped the devil could fence as well as he looked. Her fingers toyed with the pouch. She was grateful for the gloves now, palms growing sweaty.
"No," de Vito said, "Out with you, you're ugly and ruining my chat." He sipped on his lemonade.
Ten swords hissed, ten pairs of boots thundered a step forward, ten pairs of eyes settled on the old little bishop fumbling with his cane. Like bloodhounds waiting for their owners sign to rip their prey apart. The captain waved his hand. Ten swords hissed, shoved back into their sheaths, ten heels clacked when they stood back at attention.
"Father Fromm comes with us for questioning."
"What for?" Amand snapped. "Do it here." Laelia saw his fists curling. He was scared. Questioning -- it didn't quite sound like a short chat in the palace.
"For the murder of Piero de'Medici. He was the last to speak to him."
The entire room gasped. Laelia felt like someone had punched her. She clenched a hand over her lips -- it couldn't be. Piero de'Medici was dead? How? The head of the Medici, dead? Murder? Many a scorned noble might have toyed with the thought -- but who would dare? The people loved the Medici. Everyone knew that. He was the head of one of the richest and most powerful families in all of Europe. And everyone knew his wife and him adored each other. The Lady Medici would rain fire and fury upon the world.
And everyone knew the church and the Medici have been silently seething against one another for ages.
"You will scurry your pack of mutts back to your Lady," de Vito spoke from is chair. All heads snapped to him. Suddenly, he was no longer the grouchy little grandfather. Straightening up, he morphed into the master of an order, eyes sharp and hard, chin raised like a king for a portrait -- this was a man who knew what he wanted and had every means to get it.
"Father Fromm will come with us." The captain waved two fingers over his shoulder. Two men stepped out of line, marching towards Marius. Amand stepped forward, but they shouldered him aside, gloved hands shooting for Marius, yanking the priest with them.
The knot of Laelia's pouch was already undone when a single sword sang. A silent laugh rang through the room.
"One more step and your captain can question Piero himself." Amand stood tall, the tip of his saber resting against the captain's throat -- one deep breath and the man would slit his own throat. The guards strained against invisible bonds. Every fiber in them must ache to cut down the smiling french man, but their captain had them stay still with a short nod.
Laelia grinned. She liked this devil.
"Amand..." Marius' voice was low.
"You wouldn't dare," the captain gritted.
Amand tilted his head, as if thinking about it. "Actually," he half grimaced, half grinned, "I would. I have no concept for social propriety, sorry."
"The Lady Medici --"
"Will have to learn her place. They're not noble. They're peasants. Money doesn't change that. One word from me? The entire old elite will be up against them, so maybe, just maybe, this is where you shut it."
The captain growled.
"Easy, wolfie," Marius tutted. "Maybe it won't be enough. But, you know how much the people adore Marius? Let's start a civil war!"
The captain paled.
Amand twirled his mustache. "And then, I'll whine to the pope."
"You fuckin' french sodomite! I'll gut you--"
"Bold words for a man who's about to have his throat slit."
"He wouldn't dare! The Medici are his bankers!" The captain spat, a victorious grin starting to spread. He should have known better than to challenge a devil.
Amand laughed. "Dug yourself a grave there." Quite literally -- the second the men had laid hand on Marius, they had made a very powerful enemy. He twisted his saber, just enough to draw a single drop of blood. "He owes them money. A chance to get rid of them? I won't have to ask twice."
"He wouldn't risk it for a archdeacon." The captain swallowed.
"Maybe. But I would." Amand's face was cut from cold steel. "There's better enemies to have than me. And the pope is very fond of me."
"You'll go to hell!"
"Looking forward to seeing you."
"Amand," Marius said. He brushed the guard's hands off, righting his cassock. "Don't. I will go with them. I'm sure this is a misunderstanding."
"Marius, no." Amand's shoulders tensed. "I can't let you do this. You don't know what they will do to you --"
"I will go with them."
"Cut the Jesus crap! You're innocent, you won't go!"
"Don't curse like that." Marius smiled. "Are you worried?"
Amand's nostrils flared. Laelia feared he would stab the entire room and then himself if he would find one scratch on Marius when he returned. If he returned...
"I'm worried you're even more selfless and naive than you are stupid, ange," Amand spat. He threw his arms up -- nearly slitting the captain's throat, starting to pace the room. "I'll go with you."
"You'll start a war," Marius chuckled.
"Damn right I will."
Marius just smiled sadly.
Amand let out an almost bestial growl. He was desperate, it was pouring off of his in waves. Laelia shifted uncomfortably. Marius would have to go, they all knew it. De Vito looked as if he considered raising the ghosts of his dead brothers to haunt the Medici until the end of time. But even he couldn't stop this.
Amand slumped into a chair, burying his face in his hands. "You're going, aren't you?" He looked up, voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm not having any blood spilled over this." Marius nodded.
"Shit," Amand shuddered, fingers clenching at his hair. When he stood again, the whole room tensed -- but his face was blank. "If there is one scratch on him, just one, I will walk you into hell myself." Then he turned and strode out, shoving guards twice as broad as him out of the way. As if he couldn't bare to watch his angel being dragged off.
Laelia couldn't. Only knowing that Marius wouldn't want her too stopped her from opening her little pouch. She had to look away as the men took the priest between them and marched off. She swayed in her chair, worry tightening her throat until she couldn't breathe. She had to get Alessandro! He could find the real killer! And Giacinto! He and the Lady were close, maybe he could ...! What if they found out Marius had been born -- no. She mustn't think about that.
"My dumb boy. I'm too old to play the savior!" De Vito hobbled off, without another word.
Without telling her anything.
She raced after him, calling -- but she couldn't find him anywhere. Maybe he had taken another secret door, forgotten all about their mission. Well ... At least they knew him now! They'd save Marius, then de Vito would tell them everything and then they would save Venice! And she'd kick Antonio in the shin, really hard.
Just when she stepped out of the villa, taking a deep breath, determined to grab Alessandro and save her Marius, when a certain banker joined her. "Oh, hello, Signor Luca!" She smiled as he offered her his arm. "What a funny coincidence, it's as if you knew I'd be here!"
"Indeed, little Lady." Luca smiled down at her, thin lips curling with amusement. The white fur brushed his cheeks in the soft evening breeze.
Wait! He was at the palace! Maybe he knew what was going on! "So, do you ... how was it at the palace?" Laelia tried sounding nonchalant. How did Gio do this? A toddler could tell she was a terrible actor.
"Chaotic," Luca said. "My meeting was cancelled, actually. Something about Lord Piero not feeling too well."
"Oh," Laelia looked down. So he didn't know. Fudge.
They crossed a market, a violin song dancing up between the pink and orange clouds. Merchants bustled around them, praising their wares -- they seemed to smell money on them. "This way." Luca pointed at a bridge.
Laelia paused. She had always went left with Giacinto.
Luca noticed. "It's a shortcut," he smiled. "See the hill? The villa is on there."
He was right. That was shorter then. Laelia was about to walk on when ... "How do you know where I need to go?"
Luca chuckled. "You're a friend of Giacinto. So am I."
Laelia frowned. There had been a pause before Giacinto. As if he ... had meant to say a different name and caught himself?
"My utmost apologies, my Lady, I had assumed you lived with him." Luca had misread her frown. He smiled. "I am terribly sorry --"
He smiled too much. That's what had bothered her about his eyes. They weren't smiling. "Oh no," Laelia giggled, "Silly me. I got confused for a moment. You know, don't go with strangers and all that!" She mimicked a scolding mother.
"Very true," Luca nodded. "I've known Giacinto for a long time. It'd be terribly impolite not to walk his friend home. Especially such a lovely young lady."
Laelia smiled innocently. "Oh! You're a banker right! I have this strange coin, do you think you can tell me where it's from?" She stopped, giving Luca her best puppy eyes. Only her mother was immune to them! Laelia felt her heart thump faster and faster, excitement and fear battling in her chest.
"Most certainly," Luca stopped, waiting for her to rummage through her pouch.
Laelia twisted away, fingers closing tightly around the content, before she turned back with an exited grin. This better work. Or else .... She pushed the knot in her throat down. She was the best. She held her fist out to the man. But she had never actually tried it ... Courage. "Look!"
The man leant down.
She could do it. She was her mother's little belladonna. A beautiful lady -- and the deadly nightshade. She opened her hand, blowing over her open palm -- but instead of a kiss, a red powder flew right into Luca's face.
The red cloud glittered like a thousand tiny rubies in the evening sun over the river. Luca had been too close, bent down to her hand -- he had no chance. A guttural scream raced over the river, echoing back from the high houses next to them. He wiped at his eyes, stumbling in circles.
Laelia jumped up and down, clapping her hands like a child at Christmas. It worked! It worked!
Luca groaned, clawing at his face like a rabid dog. He turned to her, eyes unseeing, face streaking red -- but the dark twist of his lips was truly terrifying. Oh fudgey fudge! No time for celebrations. Laelia turned and raced off, skirt and hair flying after her.
And Luca came after her. Whatever that man was, it was exceptional -- he should be writhing on the floor, howling in pain. He stumbled after the sound of her steps, snarling like a wounded dog -- but he could barely stand. Laelia slipped back onto the market place -- he couldn't see and he wouldn't be able to hear her over the sound of so many people. Hah! Take that.
Now that she really looked at his tall thin frame, remembered the dark eyes and strange metal cane, she had a very bad feeling about who this man really was.
She really had to thank Giacinto for these gloves.
I feel like my chapters are a bit longer these days -- do you mind/ think I should go back to the shorter versions?
Little teaser -- Amand and Alessandro 'know' each other. Wink wink. Much fun ahead.
What do you think happened with Piero? And why? And what about Marius...
I'm so exited, this story is finally moving at a better pace! I've got the rest roughly planned out so writing should go much faster... As always, thank you so much for your support and patience -- it means the world to me. You're the best. And I'm terribly sorry for updating so slowly these past weeks.
Have a lovely day!
Avis