Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [296]
"You think it will happen?" he asked.
"I think it might," I said. "And my lord, if it does, I won't be here to protect the villa from looting. I won't be here to defend the Lady Beatrice's honor. I'll be in the streets, fighting. You've got to help."
"I can do that." His eyes were clear and young, younger than they'd been. "Yes."
I smiled. "Good."
As it transpired, he had a certain knack for it. In the days that followed, the upper level of the Tadeii villa was transformed into a bastion. Stairways would be sealed, doors barred and blockaded. A hail of arrows and scalding water would rain down from the balconies. If Lucca held, the villa would hold.
At least for a time.
Everywhere across the city, others were doing the same thing. For a trade city, there was precious little trade afoot. No one could enter or leave, and Gallus Tadius had put a halt to trade among those merchants who were trapped here. I had to own, he was even handed in his approach. All goods that were confiscated were shared alike. Anyone caught hoarding was put to death. It only happened twice. Both times, the offenders were strung up on a gallows in the central square.
It was an effective deterrent.
"Hear me!" Gallus roared, riding back and forth before the second swaying corpse. He pointed his finger at the gathered crowd. "Lucca stands. And while it stands, no one, not the least among us, man, woman, or child, will starve while there is a handful of grain to share." He gave his death's-head grin. "And share you will, on pain of death."
There was no word from Terre d'Ange, no word from Tiberium, no word from the Unseen Guild. On occasion, I caught sight of Canis when our squadrons passed. We began training with thrusting spears. Once, we skirmished together, although he was some distance down the opposing line from me. I could barely see him for the rain. He seemed to acquit himself well. Afterward, I saw a couple of his fellows slap his back in approval. A few of ours complained that the deaf-mute had a heavy hand. And then Gallus Tadius changed our orders, and we began training in the city streets, each squadron assigned a specific section.
It kept raining.
The water in the moat kept falling.
I went to see Helena Correggio.
* * *
Chapter Fifty-Nine
I was received graciously in the Correggio household.
Gaetano was elsewhere when I called upon the palazzo, but Helena's mother, Dacia, greeted me with a deep curtsy. "Your highness," she said. "We owe you thanks beyond words."
She was a tall, elegant woman with kind eyes, and I liked her immediately. Indeed, whatever madness had befallen Lucca, the women bore it with infinitely more grace than the men. Then again, their dead had not been tyrants and mercenary soldiers.
After brushing off my polite demurral, she escorted me into a salon and went to summon her daughter. A servant arrived with a carafe of watered wine and a plate of dates; the height of hospitality during the siege. I ate a date and sipped sparingly at the wine, mindful that it was a portion of someone's daily ration. More days than not, I felt hollow with hunger.
Within a few moments, Helena arrived.
It surprised me, knowing what I did of Caerdicci culture, that we were allowed to meet unchaperoned. And then I remembered that Helena was a married woman, and no longer a maiden. Whatever virtue the Caerdicci place in virginity, hers was no longer at issue.
It was awkward at first. Although we shared a common bond, we were strangers to one another. We spoke of desultory matters; the siege and its effects, mostly. It was Helena who cut through the awkwardness and went straight to the heart of things.
"Will you tell me your story?" she asked. "The true story?"
I hesitated. "My lady, why do you want to know?"
Her hands were clasped hard, fingers working unconsciously. "I know the tale my nursemaid told me; the tale of the Bella Donna and