In The Lion's Sign. Stefano Vignaroli

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СКАЧАТЬ attention was turned instead to a single boat that was moving away from the place of the battle. It was a little bigger than the others, it had a small mast with a square sail, above which waved a red flag with a half moon and a white star.

      «It’s the Sultan! He is running away with his trusted men», Andrea exclaimed, excited. «Let’s chase him. We could capture him and make him a prisoner. The Duke Della Rovere will certainly be grateful!»

      Captain De’ Foscari put an arm around his friend’s shoulder, in an attempt to calm his soul.

      «Let’s leave him. It’s not worth the risk. He’s still a dangerous man. We have won the battle. We can continue our journey, now without any more hindrances.»

      «But... In a short time he’ll reorganize himself, and return to haunt our seas and terrorize our coastal cities!»

      So saying, Andrea lowered his head, a bit mortified. And he saw what he never wanted to see. The blood, the corpses, the pieces of the boats destroyed. This time he couldn’t hold back his stomach. The gagging of vomit rose strongly. The movements of the ship, however slight, were now unbearable. He felt his legs give way. He fell on his knees.

      Tommaso called a couple of armigers, who were immediately beside him.

      «Take him below deck, to my cabin, and have him lie down in my bunk. He led the assault on the pirates very well, but he is a land fighter. And the blood, in the sea, has a completely different effect. Watch over his rest. I will spend the night here, on the bridge.»

       

       CHAPTER 5

      A warrior cannot lower his head,

      otherwise he loses sight of the horizon of his dreams.

      (Paulo Coelho)

      In his awake sleep, lulled by the lapping of the waves, which flowed rhythmically under the hull of the galleon at anchor in the port of Rimini, Andrea’s eyes were filled with the images of the last two months, spent next to his beloved Lucia and the two beautiful girls, to whom he had become attached in a way he would never have believed possible. He loved Lucia, just as he loved Laura, the fruit of their love, just as he loved Anna, who looked so much like her adoptive mother. Certainly there was blood of the Baldeschi family in that little one, even if it had not come out of Lucia’s womb, but from that of a supposed witch who had finished her days in the flames. And the suspicion of who had impregnated that alleged witch had now become a certainty for Andrea. Cardinal Baldeschi, Lucia’s uncle, could not give any other explanation, but now he was dead and could no longer cause them any trouble, as he had done in the past. The mere thought of that grim character gave him the shivers. Not much time had passed since, after having settled all his business in Montefeltro, he left the Counts of Carpegnia and returned to Jesi on a hot day at the end of July. As in the previous occasion, seeing the walls, gates, towers, watch towers and bell towers of his city had aroused in him emotions difficult to contain. But this time he could enter the city with his head held high, strong of a noble title, protected by the Duke of Urbino. And with full rights he could claim to be appointed Captain of the people and to be able to get married with his betrothed.

      After a brief stop at his father’s palace, just to freshen up and change his clothes, he rushed to the country residence of the Counts Baldeschi. He knew well, in fact, he would not find Lucia in the Palazzo del Governo, nor much less in the Baldeschi Palace in Piazza San Floriano. He had presented himself to the servants and made himself announced to the landlady. Lucia had been waiting a long time, but when she had crossed the threshold of the hall on the ground floor, Andrea was struck by her radiant beauty, as if it was the first time he saw her. She was wearing a green silk “gamurra”, which highlighted her feminine lines and features. Her hazel eyes, in the center of her pale face, were almost fixed on him. They were sweet and penetrating at the same time. The neckline of his dress generously showed his shoulders and the dimple between his breasts, his skin as light as milk. A necklace of white pearls adorned her neck and the hairstyle of her hair was designed to do justice to the beautiful face of the lady. The cascade of dark hair was pulled back by a braid that surrounded the nape of the neck, so as to leave the forehead completely uncovered. In the perfectly oval face, with delicate features, the lips stood out of an unnatural vermilion, given by the colour obtained from poppy flowers. The eyebrows just mentioned and the high, spacious forehead gave her the appearance of a real Lady. At her hips, one on each side, the two little girls of about six years old, completely similar to her in appearance, bearing and hairstyle, held her gently by the hand. The only differences between the two girls were the height and colour of their hair, one a little taller, long and with wavy blond hair, the other a little lower and with straight black hair, shaved at the top of the head to emphasize the width of the forehead. Andrea had understood, already from the other time he had glimpsed the girls playing in the garden of that same villa, that his daughter had to be the blonde. Without taking anything away from the brunette, she was a beautiful little girl and had two heavenly eyes just like his. Lucia had sent the girls to sit on a sofa and had brought her right hand to the knight, who taking it in his hands, had knelt down and kissed it.

      «Up, up! Get up!», Lucia had told him, the cheeks that were getting inflamed. As he got up, Andrea found himself with his face at a very short distance from her. The impulse had been to bring his lips closer to hers and kiss her for a long time, but he had to hold back because of the presence of the servants, but especially the two girls.

      The two remained like that, for a while, staring into each other’s eyes, without uttering a word. Then Andrea cleared his voice.

      «Your hazel eyes. I think I saw them the last time behind a raised concealed. It was you the day of the tournament in Urbino. I’m sure of it. I recognized your eyes. Of the same colour, there are no others in the world. It was you who saved my life, who blocked Masio. And I just do not understand, I do not understand how a bridesmaid, as beautiful and delicate as you, had the strength and courage to intervene in a manner worthy of a man of arms.»

      «You must still know me well, Messer Franciolino - or can I still call you Andrea? - In any case, behind the facade of femininity, I’ve always been able to assert myself, even in situations that required not only strength, but also cunning, brains and reasoning. And no one has ever managed to trick the here present Countess Lucia Baldeschi. And I assure you that many have tried.»

      «I imagine that these years for you, here in the city, have not been easy. I know you have taken on some very important responsibilities. And I know you have done it very well. They also told me you are a daredevil, and more than once you have ventured on dangerous journeys, and moreover without an escort. A very risky thing for a lady of your rank.»

      To these words, Lucia had lowered her gaze, sighing. Andrea, having understood to have touched a perhaps painful button for his beloved, had brought back the speech on a different plan.

      «Of course, after the events of Urbino, I would have expected to find you at my side, to be assisted by your loving care, as at the time of the sack of Jesi. Instead I found myself in a remote and solitary castle, with the only company of two gruff mountain Counts, and a small handful of their servants.»

      «I made me sure someone were taken care of you, but I could not stay in Montefeltro. I had come all the way there undercover, just to see you. And now that you are well, I am waiting for you to...»

      «But of course, of course, you are absolutely right», and he prostrated himself again at the feet of his beloved, taking his hand between hers. «I humbly apologize to you for having dwelt in useless chatter. The purpose of my presence here is one and only one. That of proposing myself as your husband. It’s strange having to ask you directly, usually СКАЧАТЬ