“The end? What end?” Ravenna demanded. “The pope has given me a specific task to complete, and I’ve done it—not that I was given a choice. I don’t want to have anything to do with what you’re planning.”
The wind howled between them, sweeping across her, tangling her hair. It bit into her elegant clothing, whipping the fabric around her legs. It teased Antonio’s cloak, but he seemed immune to the cool air, as if his heart were already iced through.
“It’s far too late for that,” Antonio said coldly. “We are at war. You will have to do your part for Rome.”
“What do I care for Rome?” Ravenna cried. “I only want to keep our family safe. I would think you’d have the same goal, the same desire.”
He reared back, as if she’d said something offensive. His nose wrinkled in distaste.
“Antonio, you’re scaring me,” Ravenna continued, and she let her composure slip for a moment, revealing a glimpse of her terror.
Not for herself. But for him.
“Will you please—”
A thundering sound came from the other side of the bridge. It sounded like a horse. Ravenna turned around, her eyes widening.
Itwasa horse, carrying a lone rider.
Saturnino.
He was still dressed in his bloodred doublet, his dark cloak fluttering like the wings of a raven. The horse galloped toward them, and from the corner of her eye, Ravenna saw Antonio raise his crossbow. His companions followed suit. They formed a line, effectively blocking Saturnino from crossing to the other side of the bridge.
“You led him here,” one of the men seethed. “Your sister laid out a trap.”
Ravenna recoiled from his bruising tone. “I didn’t. More fool you for underestimatinghim.”
Saturnino yanked hard on the reins. The black horse reared high, and then it dropped its front two legs with a smack against the stony ground. The knight dismounted in one fluid motion, his gaze immediately dropping to the bloodied corpse of Signor Sforza.
A muscle jumped in his jaw.
An image of her statue of Pluto, god of the underworld, leaped to her mind. She had carved his face in perfect likeness of Saturnino, and as he loomed ahead of them, grim and foreboding, it was hard not to see him as a guardian of a fiery domain, the keeper of lost souls. He lifted his eyes and stared at Ravenna, fury emanating from him in widening ripples.
He could kill her so easily, so quickly. There was nothing stopping him from finishing her off. Ravenna glanced behind her, but the men blocked her escape. There was nowhere for her to go, unless she decided on meeting a watery grave.
“Who murdered this man?” Saturnino asked. His tone was deceptively mild, and it reminded her of a volcano hiding a river of fire, bubbling and rising, waiting to burst forth.
Ravenna pressed her lips together. She would not betray her brother.
Saturnino shifted his stance, his attention moving to the three men. His lip curled when his eyes latched on to Antonio.
“Was it your brother, Ravenna?” Saturnino asked in that same hair-raising mild tone.
Her voice was trapped in her throat, held captive by the wave of fear that had swept over her body. Ravenna glanced at Antonio, her heart thundering a furious rhythm against her chest. Before she could summon a response, one of her brother’s companions muttered a curse, raising his crossbow at eye level, his finger on the trigger. Ravenna flung her arm in the shooter’s direction, her mouth parting, a scream building in her throat.
The arrow released at a blinding speed. Saturnino stepped aside, a dagger in his hand. He pulled his arm back, launching the blade at his attacker, who was frantically trying to load a new arrow into his weapon.
But it was too late for the priest.
The dagger hit him square in the chest, and he was flung backward, his robe rippling as he crashed onto the ground. Saturnino shot forward, another slim blade in his palm, and sliced at the second priest, raking the tip of his blade across the man’s chest, his hand a pale blur in the night. The second priest stumbled back, his robe gaping to reveal a bloody gash.
He fired his crossbow wildly.
It missed Saturnino, who spun in Ravenna’s direction, eyes widening as she flung herself to the ground, landing hard on her kneesas the arrow flew overhead. She scrambled to her feet in time to see Saturnino snatch the crossbow from the second priest’s hands with a snarl. He swung it high and smashed it into the priest’s head. Blood splattered across Saturnino’s face as the priest fell backward. His features were unrecognizable: a bashed-in nose, several missing teeth. He made a pitiful noise as Saturnino raised the crossbow again to finish him off.
The hair at the nape of Ravenna’s neck rose.
Antonio brought up his weapon, inhaled, and took his shot.
