The Master of Verona (69 page)

They walked for a ways, until Rolando stopped. Gianozza tried to tug him along, but he refused to budge. He was happy to walk to the side, but not forward. Antonia tried to pass him and he barked at her.

"What's bothering him?" asked Gianozza.

Antonia had an idea. Taking an old stick from the ground, she prodded at the grassy earth in front of them. Solid at the first poke and the second, then suddenly the stick sank into the ground as far as she could push it. "It's a trap for game. Or something like it."

Gianozza bent down and rubbed Rolando's ears with both hands. "That's a good puppy!" She stood and allowed Rolando to guide them around the hole with the ingenious turf covering.

At last they reached an old oak, huge and gnarled. There was a rude kind of symbol cut into it. Antonia recognized a crude version of the horsehead Montecchio crest. It seemed that this was what Gianozza had been looking for, because from here she started counting off paces — a hundred steps north, then twenty west.

Following, Antonia said, "Where are we going?"

"Shhh," replied Gianozza. "I have to count, or we'll miss it. Twenty-three... twenty-four..."

They walked another ninety paces before turning north again. The terrain changed from grassy to rocky as they climbed up a rise. In the dirt Antonia could make out wolf tracks. Rolando sniffed at them but didn't seem concerned.

They approached a sizeable boulder, flat on one side. It was pitted all over with little shelves upon which green patches grew. "Here," said Gianozza with satisfaction.

Antonia looked around but saw nothing of interest. "Where?"

"This is a secret of the Montecchi family," whispered Gianozza. "Go around the boulder."

With a scornful look Antonia said, "If something jumps out at me, I'll kill you." Clambering awkwardly over some fallen stones, Antonia came to a turn in the path. She wiped a faint dappling of sweat from her forehead, hoping that when she got around the big stone she could rest in the shade of the hill behind it.

But there was no other side to the stone. Instead, it split in two. The gap was hidden from any angle but this and was wide enough for two men to pass through, shoulder-to-shoulder. But what puzzled her was the darkness on the other side of the gap. The ground sloped down to a pitch-black infinity.

A cave! A cave, hidden in the hillside.

Hearing Gianozza's footfall behind her, Antonia asked, "What is this place?"

Gianozza's excitement was luminous. "Mariotto wrote out the directions for me in his last letter. This is the cave where the ancient Montecchi hid the horses when bandits came looking for them."

What she means
, thought Antonia with amusement,
is that this is where the ancient Montecchi hid the horses they stole when they were bandits. That was also probably their trap back there
. Dante's daughter was far too well-bred to say so aloud. Instead, she peered into the dark. "Have you gone in? How far does it go?"

"I only went in a few paces. I didn't have a light with me then." Opening the satchel she'd brought, Gianozza produced a candle and flint. "This time I thought ahead."

"Does Lord Montecchi know you've been here?"

"No, Mari asked me not to tell anyone. But I didn't want to go in alone."

Antonia rubbed her hands briskly. "Well then, get that candle lit!"

In the still air between the split rock halves, lighting the candle wasn't difficult. Getting Rolando to enter the cave was harder. Antonia bore the light while Gianozza half-dragged the reluctant mastiff into the damp, dark cave under the hill.

"Do you think there are more traps?" asked Antonia.

"Mari said all the old traps had been taken down. I don't think my husband would have sent me here if there was any danger."

The passage was not too tall, barely high enough to accommodate riderless mounts. But it was wide enough, after the opening, to take three horses abreast. The path turned and a few paces in daylight disappeared.

Rolando was unhappy but stayed silent, sniffing at shadows. Slowly the ground leveled off. The earthen roof rose, then suddenly vanished high above. Gianozza let out a gasp. The cavern was enormous, large as a castle courtyard. There were fire pits, and along the earthen walls there were bunk beds, hitching posts for horses, and two long water troughs. Above, roots of trees and plants hung down. Yet the ceiling was so high that had the girls jumped they would have been unable to reach those dangling roots.

"Why did your husband tell you about this place?" Antonia wondered why she was whispering. But Gianozza answered in the same hushed tones.

"He said this was to be our secret place, and that if he knew I was here he could always find me in his dreams."

Porcheria
, thought Antonia tartly. Romantic, yes, and sweet. But also crafty. If Mariotto was at all concerned about his bride having eyes for other men — one man in particular — he'd created a ritual that would put him in her mind for a good hour or two every day. Antonia thought with satisfaction that Ferdinando would never be so manipulative or foolish. She suddenly reddened, as she did whenever she thought pleasing things about Ferdinando. She turned her head, wishing the candle would go out to hide her embarrassment.

Her wish came true. A surprising movement of air extinguished the flame. At the same moment Rolando began to growl, and Antonia thought she heard something moving in the cave. "An animal."

"Or a demon," said Gianozza.

Antonia dragged her friend back towards the tunnel. "An animal, like a rabbit or a squirrel." From Rolando's continued growl she wondered if it might not be a bear. This was a fine home for a bear. Or a wolf. "It's probably more scared of us."

Climbing out without light was a disaster. They fell several times, making far too much noise. But by the time they had reached the sunlight their fears were subsiding.

Antonia was the first to start laughing. "You ought to see yourself!"

Gianozza brushed at the front of her skirts. "You don't look any better!"

The danger of the cave now passed, Rolando was bored by the girls. He yawned and licked his chops. Suddenly his ears pricked up. Seconds later he was barking wildly. Tearing the leash from Gianozza's grip, he leapt forward and dashed around the path out of sight. "Rolando! Rolando!"

Chasing after him, they were stopped by a voice. Someone was talking to the hound. Who? How many? In an instant a much more real fear replaced the nameless one of the cave.

"Back up!" hissed Antonia, pulling Gianozza towards the cave's mouth. Why had the dog stopped barking?

A cracking twig. Someone was coming closer. Antonia stooped, feeling around her feet. There was dirt, but no fist-size rocks. With nothing else, she took a handful of soil and hoped she could hit the intruder in the eyes. Gianozza did the same.

A figure emerged around the bend. They let their missiles fly. "Hey!" cried the young man, throwing up his hands to cover his face. The dog was leaning against his leg, tail wagging furiously.

For a moment Gianozza stared. Then she ran to him, calling out, "Paolo! Paolo!"

Antonia had to look again. The man's name wasn't Paolo. She'd only seen him once before, but she could never forget his handsome features. It was Mariotto Montecchio, finally returned. Paolo must have been some kind of pet name.

"Oh, my love!" Husband met wife, his arms encircling her and lifting her off her feet. Their mouths met in near desperation.

Antonia looked away, but continued to study Montecchio out of the corner of her eye. He was even more handsome now that age had taken away some of his prettiness. But what clothes! He was dressed almost entirely in the latest French fashion. Leather doublet cut short, the better to show off the line of his upper thigh. Sleeves slashed to show off the fancy scalloped sleeves with bright rainbow-coloured lining. His hat was a curled liripipe. His practical riding boots, the only Italian feature to his attire, were sorely out of place.

Mariotto breathed in the scent of his wife's hair. "O Francesca, I've missed you!"

Paolo? Francesca?
Realization struck Antonia.
Francesca da Rimini and her lover?
That's the basis for their great romance? The idiots! The fools! They didn't understand L'Inferno at all!

Gianozza pulled back from his embrace. "You beast! You knew you were coming home!"

Mariotto ducked his head sheepishly. "The Capitano released me three weeks ago. I wanted to surprise you." He frowned. "Who's with you?"

"Oh, this is Antonia Alaghieri."

"Pietro's sister?"

"Yes. I didn't want to come in here alone."

One arm still around Gianozza's waist, Mariotto crossed to Antonia and held out his hand. Hers was filthy, she realized. Yet he still bent low over it as he bowed in greeting. "
Mademoiselle. C'est une plaisure, vraiment
."

"Signore," she replied in Italian as she curtsied. Now that he was closer she saw the design on the tunic under the doublet. There was a finely embroidered rendering of the Montecchi family crest. Just beneath that, directly over his liver, were three initials —
G.d.B
. That, at least, was sweet.

They exchanged a few perfunctory pleasantries, Antonia feeling awkward as could be. The fact that the marriage had never been consummated was written in flaming words above their heads. Mariotto intended an assignation with his wife. Their first.

Mariotto smiled at Antonia. She returned the smile weakly. Gianozza was gazing at Antonia too, surely thinking of nothing but how to get rid of her.

Glancing down at her clothes, Antonia made a choking sound in her throat. "Oh! I must look frightful! Is there a stream or something nearby where I can clean up before I return to the castle?"

"Just head back the way we came," said Gianozza quickly, "and off to the south about a half a mile is a stream." Mariotto beamed, but Gianozza frowned in genuine concern. "Are you sure you can find your way back?"

"I'll take Rolando with me," Antonia said, reaching down for the dog's leash. "He can guide me."

"Of course he can!" cried Mariotto cheerfully. "This old mutt knows these lands better than I do!"

"Well, goodbye, then!" Antonia tugged on the leash, hard. Her cheeks burned. As she turned down the path she wondered,
Would it be too indecorous to run
? There was a cooing sigh from behind her.
Oh, wait until I'm out of earshot please!

The dog resisted, straining back towards his master. "Come on, Rolando," whispered Antonia. "They don't want you there either."

Pietro rode north with Fazio and a band of thirty men. They were passing Ferrara when he was hailed by a large man ridiculously perched on the back of a mule.

"
Hola
!" Waving, the man almost fell off his mule. "
Señores! Por favor
— I need, ah, I need some
aiudo
." A wide floppy hat shadowed his dark skin, black hair, and beard. There were crimson stains on his shirt, but not blood. Wine. "I am riding to Treviso, and — well, I am, how you say, lost. May I ride with you?"

Pietro said, "We're not going that far."

"As far as you do go, then." His accent was definitely Spanish, but his Italian wasn't half bad. It was the drink that was giving him trouble.

"We're in a bit of a hurry…"

"So am I! It will work out so well, for me to come with you!"

It was common practice for a band of soldiers to take charge of any lone travelers. There were already three women and their grooms in Pietro's party, so he couldn't very well say they weren't taking on extra people. Still, this Spaniard could be a thief. "What do you do for a living?"

"I am a world-class notary,
señor
! Perhaps you could use a notary on your travels?"

"No, thanks. What's your name?"

"Oh, I am a lout! My name is Persiguieron La Mordedura. But if you allow me passage, you may call me whatever name you wish! Just do not call me early!" He laughed hard at his own joke.

Pietro sighed. "Very well. Ride up front, where I can keep an eye on you. And don't bother the ladies."

"
Señor
! What do you take me for? A cad?" He raised his hands in mortification and fell out of his saddle entirely. While he righted himself Pietro signaled Fazio to start the small band moving again.