“Fool,” one of the priests snarled. Ravenna couldn’t discern which; it hurt to move her head, hurt to open her eyes.
“You’ve compromised the mission,” the other said quietly.
“I haven’t!” Antonio cried. “Please don’t—”
There was an awful sound. A fist hitting bone. Her brother let out a harsh moan, and there was a loud crashing noise. It sounded like he’d tried to sit but missed the chair entirely.
“Don’t hurt him,” Ravenna said through gritted teeth. Her head still spun; her lips were bleeding. “Don’t—”
One of them hit the side of her body, near her ribs. She inhaled sharply, coughed. Another blow came.
Ravenna blacked out at the sound of her brother crying.
When she woke, it was to see her brother hovering over her, dribbling water through her lips. She blinked at him, her vision blurring at first, until it slowly crystallized. He had a massive bruise on his left cheek and his lip was split.
He looked down at her, and his face was like a ship lost in a turbulent sea, torn asunder. “You should have left when I told you.”
“Antonio,” Ravenna whispered. “Won’t you let me go?”
A ripple of emotion flashed in his eyes. But he overcame it, and his expression turned severe. Stony. “I told you, Ravenna, there’s no other way. I have to do this, and you’ll only get in our way.”
She recalled what he’d said the night before. The pope had given him orders,holyorders. “How? What are you planning on doing?”
Instead of replying, he took a wet cloth and gently wiped her face. “You have some bruising near your temple, but at least your lip has stopped bleeding. Does it hurt to breathe?”
She inhaled slowly, and then shook her head. From the corner of her eye she caught a pair of rats nibbling at the straw, searching forfood. Her stomach turned over, and she jerked her face from the sight of them.
“Nothing is broken,” he said. He wrung out the cloth and wiped her face again. “Are you hungry?”
“Let me go,” she said again, pulling at her restraints. She glanced at the window; it was still shut, but light streamed in through the cracks. “What time is it?”
“It’s early afternoon.” He stood and went to the wooden table, where a small basket filled with loaves of bread sat next to the wooden rosary. He plucked the food and came to sit down next to her on the cot. He broke off bite-sized pieces and fed them to her, offering sips of warm, diluted wine in between.
Then he retrieved a jar of beeswax ointment. She recognized it, one of her mother’s creations. She liked to be out in the garden, snipping weeds, collecting herbs. He dipped his finger and spread the mixture over the bruising at her temple, the cut on her lip. The scent of marigolds and home filled her nose. It was this small gesture that gave her hope. He was still her brother.
“Antonio,” she said. “Look at me.”
He kept his head down.
“We won’t return home,” she whispered. “We’ll hide somewhere His Holiness won’t find us. Please don’t do this. There’s still—”
His face jerked up, the corners of his eyes tight. “Stop trying to tempt me,” he snarled. “Stop trying tofixme. I’m trying to save you, I’m trying to save us all. Why can’t you see that?” He jumped to his feet and marched out the door, slamming it behind him.
He left her alone with the rats.
The three of them didn’t return until well into the night. They must have made some agreement because they were silent as they prepared for bed. Not one word was spoken between them, even as they assembled a variety of weapons onto the wooden table.
Knives, daggers, and two swords.
“What are those for?” Ravenna asked in alarm.
They ignored her.
She tried again. “Antonio?”
He ignored her and positioned himself on one of the blankets next to her cot, his hands gripping the rosary. Ravenna watched him as he silently worshipped, his lips shaping prayers in the near dark.
She wondered whom he prayed to.
