Page 62 of Thus with a Kiss I Die
I eased it forward and observed his face, which relaxed from its clench of pain. “I don’t actually know all about his life, but I believe he hasn’t had the burdens thrust upon him that you’ve had, and certainly not the torments.” I brought the arm up and back.
“That hurts!” He was talking about his shoulder.
“Show me where.”
He pointed at the front of the joint.
I lowered his arm, but kept my hand cupped to his shoulder and gently examined the site. “What hit you?”
“The point of a pole wielded by a flagellant well-versed in its use.”
“Was he aiming for merely one of the warriors, or was he aiming at the prince of Verona?”
“Does it make a difference?”
“I don’t know.” I wondered at my own query. “I just . . . I told you about the man with the flaming eyes. His memory disturbs me.” I meant that more than I could say.
Taking my fingers, he kissed them. “Be not afraid, fair Rosaline, I’ll protect you.”
“I’m not afraid for my safety. I’ve taken precautions.” I told him about retaining Tommaso as my bodyguard. “You see, I’m not as rattle-skulled as you imagine.”
“Not rattle-skulled, but impetuous and far too dauntless.”
You’re wrong. I’m the sensible one!But he continued to hold my hand as if I were fragile, and gazed at me as if he saw a woman different than I knew. I asked, “Did you kill the brute with the pole?”
“Not I. Barnadine took his feet out from under him, and I lost him in the mêlée. Perhaps he was trampled to death.”
I clenched my fist. “We can only hope.”
He looked down at it and smiled as if my feeble defense amused him. I wanted to remind him I’m a fighter, but he knew it. He also knew, better than I did, that even armed and prepared as I was, I’d be at a loss in a fight with a man. Any man. That truth was one of the Lord God’s most unjust decrees.
Cal’s smile dissipated by degrees. “Thedisciplinatihave divided into two groups. Most are holy, devoted to their penance and their mission, but as you saw, Rosie, a few are anarchists who want to burn the world to the ground and bring it back in their image. Those men fought us last night, then disappeared into the old underground.”
“How do they know about it?”
“It’s accessible through the arena where I ordered them to camp. But I fear the group includes local warriors and soldiers without a war. They’re too good at battle.” He breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling as if he sought the words to explain. “Last night, I judge you saw the leader of the flagellants who rampage through the city, deliberately causing death and destruction. I heard the talk. They believe a messiah walks among them, a man called Baal, a false god who tells them when they take down our beloved Verona, they will own its women and riches, and he will be their lord that favors them.”
Cal struck fear into my heart. “How many flagellants serve Baal?”
“In the heat of battle, it’s hard to tell. Not all. Most of thedisciplinatiare the holy men of sacred sacrifice they claim to be. But last night in Verona . . . fifty rebels fought for Baal.” Cal took my hand, but he didn’t see me. He saw the previous night’s battle. “Baal is driven by a demonic passion and he urges his men to the edge of destruction. They believehiminvincible, and that in serving him,they’reinvincible. They fight with a fervor that fears nothing, for he assures them that even if they die in his service, they’ll gain paradise.”
“What can stop them?”
His attention returned to me, and he seemed to find relief in my countenance. “We’ll find out.”
“You’ll go into battle again tonight.” I didn’t like him returning to fight, but one picks the combats one can win, and forbidding him would provide nothing but grief for us both. I made my diagnosis. “As far as I can tell, everything inside your shoulder is working as it should, but the swelling must be contained. You’ll recline on Nonna Ursula’s chaise and get much-needed sleep while I apply ice to your joint.”
I didn’t wait for an argument, but used his good arm to help him up. He let me, which made me wonder if he was truly weak or taking the opportunity to remind me what we shared in our physical connection. Maybe both, for the way he clasped my shoulders and leaned on me no longer gave me comfort. He made me breathless with more than exertion and that star-falling sensation of passion and turmoil.
I saw Elder accessing us and speaking rapidly to Nonna Ursula, urging consciousness on her, I suppose, for the entertainment of our awkward courtship.
Reluctantly Cal released me to sink down on the chaise and I hurried to the door to find Princess Isabella and Old Maria and Pasqueta prowling the corridor outside. “Ice for Prince Escalus,” I commanded. “As swiftly as possible! Two cloths full. At once!”
They jumped and disappeared in the direction of the, um, icehouse?
I really needed to explore the palace.
I returned to Cal, who appeared to be drowsing, but as soon as I nudged my hip against his hip, he clasped me by the wrist. “You laughed with him,” he said again.
