The Boy Who Wept Blood (11 page)

Dino bade her good night. She pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks, and he descended the stairs, hand never far from his blade.

18

Drunk and Negligent
–
18 Luglio
325

Dino reached the Central Keep joining the great houses but felt no inclination to retire. The guards at the main gate let him out despite the hour, and he wandered the lonely chasm between Houses Contadino and Prospero. The triumphal arch loomed in the darkness, resplendent with heraldry and the colours of the houses. He passed under the tapering towers and sloping roofs, lost to his thoughts. The stars looked down from their appointed places, one shimmering amethyst, the rest silver.

‘House Prospero’s star,’ he murmured. ‘Look after Stephania, won’t you?’

He pressed on through the town, reaching the old
sanatorio
, home to the library and his sister’s laboratory. The iron-bound double doors were guarded by four soldiers in House Fontein colours. He climbed the few steps and saluted, nodding to the men and their
sergente.

‘You arrive to us late, my lord.’ The man had a broken nose, bloodshot eyes, and possessed a unique odour.

‘Not exactly the warm welcome I was hoping for.’

‘We’re under orders not to admit anyone.’

Dino squared up to the man. ‘Do I look like “anyone” to you?’

The
sergente
nodded to his men, one of whom hammered a fist on the doors. It was unbarred from the other side after a few moments.

‘Apologies, my lord, but orders are …’ Anything else the man had to say died on his lips as Dino glowered at him.

It hadn’t been used as a
sanatorio
for a long time. The first three floors were fitted with vast oak shelves, extending from the centre like spokes of a wheel. Books nestled against each other in the dusty darkness. Tomes lay in piles and waited on desks, waiting for the attentions of Archivist Simonetti. Turquoise carpets, the house colour of Anea, lest any forget who opened the library, ran like garden paths between shelves and desks. Stepladders loomed by shelves, brass handrails gleaming.

It had been difficult luring people in at first, as the building was steeped in bad associations, and its gargoyles and buttresses, the black iron bars on the windows did little to welcome visitors. Anea had persisted all the same, removing the bars and fitting stained glass. And yet the
sanatorio
was not completely changed: the top three floors remained out of bounds.

He found her on the third floor, sitting at a desk surrounded by books. She was dressed in her nightgown, a triangle of silver silk covering the lower half of her face, blond hair falling in disarray around her shoulders.

‘Couldn’t sleep?’

I was about to ask the same question.

‘I’d assumed you’d be in the laboratory.’ He flicked his gaze up.

The top three floors are somewhat basic; the library is a nicer setting. I needed to check a few things.
She patted the books in front of her by way of explanation. Dino frowned. She moved with a dream-like grace, her gaze not quite focused.

‘Anea, we need to talk.’

The Silent Queen nodded and got to her feet, then beckoned with a finger, the gesture languid. Dino wondered at the distant look in her eye and that she hadn’t embraced him. She led him to the far side of the library, pausing to draw back a thick tapestry that concealed a door.

‘I’d actually forgotten where the door was.’ He shook his head.

Anea produced two keys on a length of cord around her neck, using them to open a pair of locks in the centre of the door. The Orfani slipped into darkness, the smooth stone of a spiral staircase passing beneath boots and naked feet until they emerged on the fourth floor.

‘I take it your studies are going well.’

She nodded but didn’t slow her walking in order to sign, ushering him along the corridor, past workshops filled with the king’s machines. He glimpsed benches covered in ledgers and scraps of parchment. Ten long years she’d been trying to decode the secrets of the infernal machines. A decade of simultaneously ruling Landfall and researching the king’s sciences. Dino had watched her through the passing of the seasons, only admitting it was not time wasted with some reluctance. At first there had been soap and disinfectants, then analgesics and cataract surgery. Then unexpected advances in astronomy and metallurgy, followed by leaps in chemistry and pharmacology.

Some of the machines summoned ghostly words on surfaces of obsidian, displaying endless essays and complex instructions. Other machines spoke in stilted antiquated dialects. Dino hated these most of all. They were mindless things chanting recherché theories and unproven practices, not responding when questioned, dry echoes from ghosts unremembered. Most of the machines took the form of charcoal-grey rectangles no longer than a forearm, like portable gravestones. Each bore a single beady eye, staring at the world with an amethyst glow.

And there were apparatuses: microscopes and cold devices in black leather cases, cardio-this and retino-that, fine needles attached to syringes, scalpels and clamps. The old steel instruments looked cruel and unfathomable. They made his skin crawl.

Anea’s rooms were small. Two battered armchairs faced each other across a hearth. It had been a long time since a fire had burned there. The room lacked all decoration: it was clear she had no use for the place besides sleeping.

What news? Do I still rule? Has Lady Allattamento staged a coup? Has the
capo
finally come to his senses and married Stephania?

‘Don’t be facetious; it doesn’t suit you.’ He slumped into one of the chairs, hand straying to his lip, stubble on his chin firm against his fingers. Anea sat patiently, waiting for him to fill the silence. He’d longed to speak to her these last few weeks, but now the words wouldn’t come.

‘Demesne is going through changes,’ he began, feeling foolish. And once more a flash of memory brought the image of hard bodies moving against each other in the darkness, sculpted in candlelight.

That is nothing new
, Anea signed before pouring a glass of wine.

‘Not like this. It’s more serious this time.’ His mind drifted to Massimo.

Her fingers flickered.
You know I would come back if I could, but Virmyre and I are close to a breakthrough. We may be able to extend longevity.

‘Margravio Contadino has set himself on a course that I can’t turn him from.’

He will come to his senses. Medea will act as his conscience, just as she always does.

‘Maestro Cherubini is being forced to resign.’

I heard. Regrettable but …

‘You knew?’ He shook his head, incredulity making the words sour. ‘How could you know and not come to help? He needs you.’

What can I do? My being there would have changed nothing.

Dino looked away to the empty fireplace. There was nothing on the mantel. A pair of glass vials lay forgotten in the ashes of the hearth, missing their stoppers, empty vessels. The bookshelves behind were barren, the rug threadbare.

‘And you know the Domina has had me creeping around spying?’

Anea nodded almost imperceptibly.

‘She’s not herself, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. She seems intent on uncovering secrets but unwilling to do much with the information.’

She is doing what she believes she must. She knows the stakes better than anyone. I sometimes thinks she knows the cost of things more than I.

The pronouncement of that uncomfortable truth sat between them.

‘I overheard the Fonteins plotting against you, and she demands proof, but what more proof do I need than my own ears?’

The Fonteins will always plot against us. We need physical proof in order to move against them, legally. You know this, Dino.

He shook his head, frustrated and exhausted. ‘There’s something else.’ He felt a tightness in his chest, the anxiety of saying words he’d not been able to whisper to himself when alone.

‘I’m …’ His courage slipped away. ‘I’m looking for someone called Erebus. Are they an old family, one of the distant estates?’

Anea shook her head.

‘Does Lucien have an Erebus serving him?’

A shrug.
I could ask Russo to make enquiries—

‘No.’

Anea blinked at the force of his interruption.

‘I’d prefer you didn’t mention it to her. This is a personal matter,’ he lied. ‘There’s something I haven’t told you,’ he said after a pause, keen to change the subject. Anea leaned forward in her chair, into the light, revealing how drawn she was, dark rings beneath her eyes, hair pulled back with a simple tie. There was a gauntness to her frame he’d not noticed before.

‘I drew steel on the day of the
dottore
’s funeral. The
capo
and I …’ Another diversion from the secret he had meant to tell her. She sat back, crossing her legs at the knee, rubbing her hands palm to palm. Dino drank the wine, more for something to do than slake his thirst.

You and the
capo
have been testing each other’s patience for years. It seems inevitable you’ll cross blades at some point. I would prefer it if you did not kill him this year if it makes any difference.

Dino grunted in amusement, regarding the contents of his wine glass, blood red in the dim light.

Still, it is not like I have any control. Just make sure you are the one left standing when the fight is done.

Dino nodded again and plucked at his lip. Anea appeared more focused than when he’d encountered her in the library.

Are you going to tell me what is really upsetting you, or shall we continue talking about treason,
nobili
and petty politics.

‘Hardly petty. They want you dead. And Margravio Contadino fears for his life. And rightly so.’

What is wrong, Dino? There is a strange look about you. Hunted. No. Haunted.

‘You hardly look yourself either. Are you eating? Do you sleep?’

What is wrong, Dino?

He tried to swallow, then pulled at the collar of his shirt. He was suddenly much too warm.

‘I’m … I think I’m different.’

Well of course.
Anea paused, then blinked.
You are Orfano – different by birth, by ability, by the way we conduct ourselves.

‘Yes, but I’ve always been more different than you and Lucien …’

Because you have spines that grow from your forearms? Or because of your eyes and the bloody tears you weep?

‘No, nothing like that.’

I can make you a duke if it makes you happy. Is that it? You want more recognition, more status?

‘
Porca miseria
, no.’

Well, what then?

Memories of standing in the doorway of Maestro Cherubini’s bedroom flooded through him: the shock of his own arousal, the embarrassment, the desire to keep watching, the fear of being discovered and the shame. Shame had been the greatest of these, following at his heels like a faithful hound. It kept him awake when he needed rest, troubling him in the quiet hours of the night.

‘Anea. When I went to Cherubini’s rooms …’ He faltered.

What?

‘I was there. Acting as his bodyguard on the Domina’s orders. It was me. I left the door unlocked. The maid only discovered them because of my mistake.’

You were there? But not to … not in his bedroom?

‘No, but that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I saw what was happening inside …’

The sound of footsteps in the corridor. Dino started from the chair, wine glass shattering across floorboards in the deep quiet of the small hours. Dino’s sword was free of its sheath before he’d drawn breath. He turned with a snarl frozen on his lips.

Virmyre faced him, hands raised, his usually stony demeanour apologetic. ‘Easy. I didn’t realise you were here, Dino.’

‘Ever heard of knocking?’ he grunted, sheathing his sword.

‘It’s not as if we’re inundated with visitors, Lord Erudito.’

Dino glowered at him and dropped his gaze. ‘I’m sorry, Virmyre. I’ve been on edge lately.’

‘Perfectly understandable.’ The
professore
turned to address Anea. ‘Sorry to interrupt but the vials of
tinctura
are ready.’

Dino caught Anea glancing at him, saw the concern in her eyes turn to indecision and then resignation. Her fingers began to move but he already knew what was coming.

Can we finish this another time? I am sorry. Tomorrow perhaps?

Dino nodded and watched them leave, disappearing into the lantern-lit workshops. He drifted along the corridor, down the stairs and back through the secret door. The guards outside nodded to him, different to the ones before: a changing of the guard had occurred with the coming of midnight.

‘My lord,’ said the relief
sergente
cheerfully. The scent of wine was strong.

‘Are you all drunk or simply negligent?’

The men stared at him, sullen and silent in equal measure.

‘Not drunk, my lord, just something to help through the small hours.’

Dino stepped back and appraised the men. They were hardly fighting fit, nor were they in their cups.

‘Very well. Try and stay alert, Sergente, you know?’

The walk back to Demesne was a lonely one. Robbed of the chance to unburden himself, he visited the kitchens instead.

‘Just something to help through the small hours,’ he whispered to himself. A vintage Barolo and Achilles were his only companions until sleep claimed him, but his dreams were heady and explicit, leaving him more desperate than ever to confide in someone.

But who could he tell such a secret to?

19

The Underneath
–
19 Luglio
325

‘And this is where you saw them?’ Massimo regarded the uneven landscape of roofs and towers pointing toward the star-flecked sky.

‘I hid behind this chimney.’

The day’s heat had cooled, a breeze drifting in from the north. Heavy cloud occluded the moon, making the difficult footing treacherous.

‘What in nine hells were they doing all the way up here?’ said Massimo.

‘The same thing I was doing, I expect – spying.’

‘It’s a good way to get from one side of Demesne to the other without being seen,’ admitted the swordsman.

‘It also provides access to a lot of windows and balconies if you’ve the stomach for the climb.’

‘So what now?’ Massimo pulled his collar up. He wore a charcoal-grey three-quarter-length jacket, so different to his usual attire. ‘Are we just going to lurk here all night and hope they pass by?’

‘Unless you have a better idea?’ Dino smiled. ‘Advice on tracking mysterious bandits is hard to find, you know?’

‘I can believe it. Where do you want to stand watch?’

Dino pointed to the vast swell of the Ravenscourt and the steep curve of the dome. Swordsman and Orfano picked their way across the rooftops on silent, if hesitant, feet.

‘I’m glad we’re not trying to do this at night, without torches,’ said Massimo after he’d slipped the second time. Both times he’d regained his balance. ‘How are we supposed to fight them if we can’t see them?’

‘Your eyes will get used to the dark.’

‘Can’t you ask Anea to cast a spell for moonlight?’

They settled at the base of the dome on the south side, looking down at the triumphal arch and the town below. Squares of golden light spilled from doorways; a dog barked; the tinkle of broken crockery drifted up to them.

‘We could be in a
taverna
,’ said Massimo. ‘Good company, good wine—’

‘You said you couldn’t simply slip away from the
margravio
to come drinking, if I recall.’

‘We need to work on our social lives.’

‘You’ll get no argument from me on that topic.’

The time dragged, and when Massimo spoke he was grateful to have something to concentrate on, if not for the subject.

‘Have you spoken to Cherubini yet?’

‘I’ve not had the chance.’ Dino grimaced as the lie fled his lips, glad the darkness hid his face.

‘Is Anea really going to let the Domina accept his resignation?’

‘Yes, she is.’ Dino sighed, remembering how distant his sister had been the previous night, only warming to him after they’d spoken for a time. ‘Have you ever heard of
tinctura
?’

Massimo shrugged. ‘Sounds like something you’d buy from the
dottore.
Are you unwell?’

‘No, just a word I heard that made me curious.’

A shout of alarm sounded from the streets below, followed by a scream. The swordsman and Orfano lurched to their feet and squinted into the darkened town.

‘Come on. We’ll not see anything from here.’

Dino led them along the edge of House Erudito. Progress was slow. They alternated between checking their footing and trying to discover the source of the disturbance. A slender tower emerged from the gloaming, dark grey against the blue-black of the sky, tapering to a fine point.

‘We can use this to reach the ground,’ said Dino.

‘How do you know that?’

‘I’ve been doing this a while, you know? Mind your feet, though; the steps are wooden and I don’t trust them.’

A crowd had gathered by the time they reached the streets, many of the
cittadini
carrying torches, a few brandishing cleavers.

‘Care to tell me what happened?’ Dino enquired of a
cittadino.

‘What is it to you?’

‘About two
denari
if you mind your manners, the back of my hand if you don’t.’

The man wore a grubby tunic and his slippers were all but worn through. He blinked a few times, reappraising the two bravos before him and the blades they wore.

‘Apologies, my lord. We’ve had a scare is all. More of those men in grey. They took yesterday’s bread from Luca’s bakery. Normally he’d give it to the Sisters of Santa Maria. They hand it out to the poor, you see?’

Dino nodded. ‘Which way did they go?’

A lank-haired blonde girl of around seven pointed, saying nothing.

‘A little late for you to be awake, bambina?’ said Massimo, settling on his haunches.

The girl sniffed. ‘They went that way. It happened last week too. Papa says no one at the castle cares because the people in the castle always have enough to eat.’ She sniffed again and looked at the swordsman with sleepy eyes. Dino and Massimo shared a look.

‘Come on,’ said the Orfano and began walking in the direction indicated, but not before pressing some coins into the girl’s hand.

They tracked the grey raiders across the town, questioning each person they encountered. Startled
cittadini
lingered at street corners, complaining. The events had already succumbed to embroidery.

‘I heard they took an entire leg off a pig.’ The woman standing before them was as round as a barrel and had trouble standing still. Her eyes drifted in and out of focus.

‘You mean a ham, and it was bread, actually.’ Dino’s frustration was growing. ‘Stale bread.’

‘Well, they went that went way, through that arch there.’ The smell of wine was overpowering. ‘It’s not the first time either.’

‘Thank you,’ replied Massimo.

The courtyard was small, smells of straw and manure declaring the wooden structure on the left a stable. A well covered with a tiled sloping roof occupied the opposite corner. Three buckets had been stacked with care. The backs of townhouses made up two sides, a blocky building with narrow windows formed the fourth. The darkness was near absolute.

‘We should come back in the morning.’ Dino couldn’t miss the weariness in Massimo’s voice.

‘Just give me a moment,’ said Dino, approaching an iron-bound door. He knocked hard and lights appeared in the narrow windows.

‘A little late for house calls, my lord,’ said Massimo.

‘Not when the safety of Landfall is at stake.’

‘I have a hard time telling when you’re mocking me of late.’

‘You’ll learn to love it.’ Dino grinned. The noise of sliding bolts announced the door would soon be open and then light spilled out into the courtyard.

The disciple of Santa Maria stood before him, the woman from the cemetery. Her shift was new, her hair clean, the skin on her hands and arms less angry. Only her mismatched eyes remained the same, cool blue and jade green.

‘You?’ Dino was open-mouthed with astonishment.

‘My lord.’ She crossed her arms and frowned. ‘Why do you come to the chapel so late?’

‘Chapel?’ Now it was Dino’s turn to frown.

‘This is the chapel of Santa Maria, and I am her disciple. What are you seeking?’

‘Raiders,’ said Massimo. ‘Grey raiders. They stole bread from a nearby bakery.’

‘Again?’

‘How many many times has this happened?’ said Dino.

‘We didn’t see them for a week or two after the first attack. Since then they’ve shifted their visits to nights.’

‘Makes a certain kind of sense,’ said the swordsman.

‘We were told they came this way,’ said Dino. ‘Can I step inside?’

‘This is a chapel!’

‘I simply need to be sure. I mean no disrespect.’

‘This is consecrated ground! We don’t take in thieves and murderers!’ Her voice had crept up, indignation making her bold.

‘It’s only consecrated if you believe in it,’ snapped Dino. ‘Now get out of my way.’

‘I will not—’ But Dino grabbed her by the arm, thrusting her out into the street, where she all but collapsed at Massimo’s feet.

‘
Porca miseria
, Dino. What’s got into you?’

The place was modest, two candelabra shedding light from a dozen candles. A two-handed sword suspended by iron pitons hung on the wall. No one fought with such weapons, favouring faster, lighter blades. Dino pressed a gloved finger to the edge and felt it score the fabric. There was a blue tint to the steel, polished to a mirror finish. The disciple and Massimo entered behind him.

‘What are you going to do with that?’ said Dino, jabbing an accusing finger at the weapon. ‘I doubt you could even lift it.’

‘One day our order will have templars.’ She lifted her chin and anger shone from her mismatched eyes.

‘You need a temple in order to have templars.’

‘The saint provides and keeps us,’ whispered the disciple.

Dino searched the cells of the building, six simple rooms with narrow beds, and a small shrine at the rear, the smell of incense heavy on the air. Four Sisters pulled their bedclothes up to eyes filled with worry.

‘Dino,’ hissed Massimo. ‘If you’re quite finished I’d like to abandon this charade and get some sleep.’

The Orfano was about to reply when a voice called from the courtyard, ‘What is the meaning of this? Come out at once!’

Dino rolled his eyes and Massimo broke into a weary incredulous grin.

‘Oh good,’ grunted Dino. ‘The
capo
, just as I thought this night couldn’t be any more pointless.’

Guido di Fontein stood in the courtyard with four men, two clutching halberds while the others held up lanterns. Dino recognised them by sight if not by name: House Fontein loyalists, hard men who hadn’t let themselves grow soft since the Verde Guerra.

‘Dino?’ blurted the
capo.

‘Touch informal for my tastes, but your gifts of perception are as acute as ever.’

‘Are you here to take your vows?’ sneered the
capo.
‘I think you’d suit a wimple and veil.’

‘Did you want anything in particular or are you just here to brighten my day?’ Dino crossed his arms.

‘A disturbance was reported, men forcing entry into the chapel.’

‘It’s true,’ said the disciple. ‘This man threw me out into the street and entered without permission.’

‘We were looking for the raiders,’ said Massimo.

‘I hardly care about a few beggars.’ The
capo
flashed an impish grin. ‘Shame about Cherubini.’

‘I imagine you’re devastated,’ said Dino. ‘I’ll be on my way now.’

But the Fontein guards made no move, obstructing the passage back to the street.

‘I’ve not forgotten your slight in the cemetery, Dino. Perhaps we can settle that issue here?’

‘With odds of five to one?’ Dino nodded to Guido’s escort. ‘That sounds about your style.’

Massimo drew his sword slowly and without flourish. ‘That’s five to two.’

The Fontein men took a step back, and a look of disgust laced with disappointment crossed Guido’s features.

‘I can’t fault your boundless arrogance, either of you,’ sneered the
capo.

‘Will you
carogne
be quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep,’ shouted a voice from a darkened window above. Lights appeared at windows and shutters were thrown back, faces gazing down at the armed men. There’d be no fight now, not with so many witnesses.

The
capo
muttered, and his men backed out of the courtyard, leaving sour glances in their wake. The disciple retreated behind her door, slamming it for effect, the bolts slipping into place.

‘What a waste of time,’ growled Dino.

‘No,’ replied Massimo cheerfully. ‘It wasn’t.’

‘Care to tell me why exactly?’

‘The grey raiders. They’re not in the town.’ He pointed to the well in the corner of the courtyard. ‘They’re underneath it.’

‘How can you be sure?’ asked Dino.

‘Just a feeling. It’s why no one can find them, and how they escape with such ease. They’re underneath the town, perhaps beneath Demesne itself.’

‘Like a nest of ants,’ whispered Dino, ‘spreading their colony.’