A roaring sound boomed in her ears, shaking her to the core. She felt the vibration in every corner of her body, her soul. She knew where her brother and his accomplices had gone. And why.
“Ravenna,” the courier said, alarm punctuating her name. “Don’t.”
But she took off at a dead run, following the sound of the cathedral bells.
Capitolo Trentasei
Ravenna pumped her legs, racing toward the immense dome that dominated the Florentine skyline. She navigated the tight corners, hopped over muddy piles, skirted around flower carts and street vendors, her long hair flowing behind her, a copper river glinting in the sunlight. The streets were mercifully empty; everyone was likely attending Holy Mass. Her heart careened against her ribs, sweat dampened her brow, her breath escaped her in forceful gusts.
Madonna santa, let her make it in time.
The piazza looked exactly as it had the day before, bursting with bright colors and spring flowers. The cathedral loomed in front of her, plain and austere, the front doors wide open. She hardly noticed. Ravenna burst into the nave, teeming with people sitting in the pews and lining the back walls. Choral music whirled around her, and the scent of incense filled her nose. The vibrant colors of the stained-glass windows cast the kneeling congregation in a riot of colors, amplified by the many candles illuminating the sanctuary. The priest stood directly ahead of her at the altar, performing the liturgical rites.
Several people in the back rows turned at her entrance: merchants, nobles, commoners, artisans, and foreign dignitaries. It didn’t matter who they were, each held obvious looks of surprise at the state of her.
Bloodied gown, hair unbound, and wild, bruised face.
Ravenna veered to the right side, darting past the immense pillars that flanked the rows of pews. She reached the front of the church and scanned the crowd, frantically searching for a glimpse of her brother. Instead, her eyes locked across the wide center aisle with the one person she never expected to see again.
Saturnino stared back at her, riveted, his lips parting in shock. A tide of emotion threatened to sweep her away. Her body felt feverish, dizzy at the sight of him. He lookedwonderful.Familiar. Beautiful in his midnight satin doublet with slashed sleeves, sharp black hair tucked behind his ears.
Like everyone else, he was now kneeling on the tuffet, his arms loosely draped over the rail in front of him. His family flanked him on either side; they hadn’t noticed her yet. The Medici were also tucked in the same pew—Lorenzo and his lady, and his handsome brother Giuliano who had danced with the most beautiful woman at the banquet.
Ravenna’s attention snapped back to Saturnino. His dark green eyes took in her appearance: the bruised temple, the swollen lip—and a lethal fury blazed across his face. Understanding crept across his features, and without words, they had a silent conversation that spanned the width of the cathedral.
You promised, he accused her.
I couldn’t leave my brother, she pleaded.
He made to stand, but Ravenna shook her head, frantic.
Saturnino paused, waiting for her to tell him what she needed.
But Ravenna didn’tknow.
For all she knew, her brother wasn’t there at all, and she had run all that way for nothing. She tugged at the ends of her hair in frustration. But as the priest raised the consecrated host high above his head, three hooded figures dashed forward, daggers in hand, heading straight for the Medici brothers. Her brother threw back his hood, raising his arm, the blade glinting silver in the candlelight.
Ravenna let out a bloodcurdling scream—
The sound rose high, filling every inch of the sanctuary, reaching the vaulted ceilings. The choir abruptly broke off their serene chanting. People jumped to their feet, shouting, the sounds blending in with her own anguished screaming.
It tore out of her. An endless river of terror, all-consuming.
Antonio swiped at Lorenzo’s neck. The politician clutched at histhroat, blood seeping through his fingers. With his free hand, he yanked out a slim sword, thrust it toward Ravenna’s brother. Antonio leaped back, but several people wrapped their arms around him: waist, arms, throat. More people circled him, pulling at his legs, his fingers. Someone pried his dagger out of his hands, stabbing him in the gut with it. Her brother threw his head back and let out a primal groan.
They were tearing him apart.
Ravenna shoved her way through the jostling crowd, united in pandemonium and fury. Only ten feet separated her from her brother. She screamed his name, and over the heads and shoulders between them, he turned toward her. Someone had gouged his eye out. He was missing several teeth.
The guttural cry that came out of him nearly broke her.
They carried him high over their heads, out the front door. From the corner of her eye she caught Signor Luni crowding Lorenzo de’ Medici, acting as a shield against the roiling crowd. Ravenna pushed at the people standing in her way, but she was shoved off her feet. She landed hard on her hands and knees. Tears streaming down her face, she tasted salt in her mouth. Someone stepped on her hand and she winced as she attempted to crawl away from the mob.
Giuliano de’ Medici crashed down next to her.
He stared at Ravenna, eyes open in terror.
The tall priest hovered over him and stabbed Giuliano in the chest. He cried out, arms waving to block the next blow, but his attacker’s blade came down again. And again. And again. Ravenna lost count of how many times.
