Demon Knight

sweeping, say?

On the fifth day of her stay in the villa, Lady Lisa swept out to the stable yard in the new riding costume of forest green linen she had ordered on her first shopping trip into Florence with Hamish — one of three such outfits, all of which had been delivered last night, together with the fur-trimmed hats and cloaks she had bought on the second day… all charged to condottiere Longdirk's credit by Hamish.

There he was, waiting for her with Eachan and Dapple already saddled. She was a little late. Ladies were expected to be late. Sometimes even this late. Hamish tended to be early, which was appropriate behavior for a gentleman, but today he might have been earlier than usual, for he was leaning one arm wearily on Eachan's neck and staring morosely at the mire as if he had taken root. Then he sensed her approach and glanced up, and the flood of joy that then transformed his face was extremely flattering. She would forgive him for being early.

'My lady!' He gazed at her with an awe so overpowering that she would have dismissed it as faked in any other man, but she knew Hamish was always genuine. 'You are… You are unbelievably beautiful in that outfit. Artemis herself.' He took her fingers and kissed them. Yesterday, when they had dismounted to rest the horses, she had kissed his lips. He had told her sternly never to do that again. Naturally she had done so again, at once — and was planning to do much the same again today as soon as she got the chance.

Realizing that she had not spoken yet — had, in fact, been smiling at him all this time as witlessly as a stuffed owl — she belatedly said, 'Thank you, sir.'

'How fares your mother this morning, my lady?' He led the horses over to the mounting block.

'Sleeping. Sister Bona still isn't worried.' Lisa would have been quite frantic had this happened in the villa in Savoy, or even in Siena, but here she had advisors, and Sister Bona was a very comforting, competent-seeming sort of person. If the countess wanted to sleep and sleep and sleep, she said, then it would do her no harm. And that was exactly what Mother was doing, all day, all night. It was worrying, but it did allow her daughter time to engage in healthy exercise, such as long rides with Master Campbell. Two a day. Three yesterday.

'She probably has a lot of sleep to catch up on,' Hamish said with one of those irresistible smiles that quirked the corners of his mouth into almost-dimples. 'Fourteen years.'

'That's absurd!' Lisa settled on the saddle and took the reins.

'Not completely. I read once—' He pulled himself up short, grinned at her before she could tease, then swung up nimbly on to Eachan's back. 'She probably feels safer here than she has felt in years, so she's catching up on her sleep. Let's make the most of it. Would you like to see the Roman theater?'

'What's on the playbill?'

Hamish's laugh never really started. A large speckled horse came trotting into the yard with the huge and ominous figure of Longdirk on its back, heading for them.

Lisa glanced at her companion, and her heart sank like a rock. 'You look like a schoolboy caught playing truant.'

'That's exactly what I am.'

'Fair morning, my lady,' Longdirk said. As always, his face was infuriatingly unreadable.

She nodded without bothering to hide her displeasure.

Hamish just sighed, and said, 'Where, when, what, who?'

'I hate to drag you away from important pleasure,' the big man told him solemnly, 'but it has to be you, and milady can't tag along.'

Lisa was shocked at how the day darkened. Being separated from Hamish for very long was unbearable. Did this overgrown barbarian realize the suffering he was causing her?

'Lucas Abonio,' he said. 'You know his residence? Take every conspicuous precaution to make sure no one sees you entering or leaving.'

Hamish opened his mouth, then shut it with a click. 'And what furtive message do I whisper to His Excellency?'

Longdirk shrugged. 'Tell him about Babylonian chariot racing or that procession of equine oxen that interests you. You'll think of something.'

'Italy has not been good for you. You used to be a nice straightforward boy.' Hamish turned to Lisa, then glanced down at Longdirk's horse as if noticing it for the first time.

'Yes,' the big man said. 'It is a plot to get you out of the way. Writhe in jealous rage all you want, but go and see Abonio.'

'Heartless swine,' Hamish said sadly. 'You'll be safe with him, dearest, but he doesn't know a Roman theater from a hole in the ground.' Then he made a brave attempt at a grin and urged Eachan into a canter.

'The Roman theater is just a hole in the ground,' Longdirk said. 'Not worth wasting time on. I know more interesting places to visit.'

'I believe I will wait until Master Campbell returns.'

'No you won't. I have something to show you. Come along.'

* * *

Thus it was that Lisa found herself being escorted across the meadows by the condottiere himself that nippy spring morning, her wishes in the matter having been totally disregarded. She would have objected more strongly had she had anything better to do, or if the Highland gorilla were less intimidating. He scared her, but she was never going to admit that, even to herself. And she hated the way he ordered Hamish around, sending him off to Florence like a flunky just to… to what, exactly?

The two of them rode in silence for a while. Then Longdirk suddenly pointed at the plain below. 'The large dome is the sanctuary, of course. And the tower beside it is the campanile.' He went on to point out the main landmarks in the city and then those outside — villages, hills, roads, naming every one and adding pertinent information. As the trail entered an olive grove he glanced around at her. 'You smile, ma'am?'

'Oh, pray forgive me! I was just remembering how you chide Master Campbell for lecturing.'

He blinked. 'His lectures come out of books. I learned all this on horseback.'

'Then you must write a book.' That stopped him! 'Who is Lucas Abonio?' she inquired, brazenly pressing her advantage.

Peering down from his much greater height, he studied her in silence for a moment, as if she were an errant piece of ordnance. 'This must be in confidence.'

'Oh, I have no wish to pry, Constable! I should not have presumed to—'

'He is the Milanese ambassador to Florence.'

She considered that answer for about four olive trees. 'This is a secret?'

'No.' The big man's face was less scrutable than some Arabic scrolls she'd found in a castle library once. 'No, that is no secret. He's been trying to bribe me to enter the duke's service, and that is no secret either. And Florence is being interminably difficult about giving me the condotta we need, but everyone knows that, too.'

'Doesn't it want to employ you?'

'I think so. I hope so. Part of the problem is that the present dieci, the Ten For War, are due to be replaced on March first, and they're trying to spin out the negotiations so that their successors can share in the bribery.'

'Oh. According to Hamish, everything in Florence is run by Pietro Marradi. Why don't you just go and talk to him?'

'I did, my lady. I spent all yesterday morning in his waiting room with a very strange collection of sculptors and poets. I was left until almost the last, and then told he was too busy to see me.'

She found that very funny, but she must not let her amusement show. 'So today you send Hamish on a secret visit to—'

'No. You can't keep a secret in Florence. The Magnificent will know within minutes that Hamish is visiting Abonio. He won't know why, though.'

'But you told Hamish to make—'

'That was just for realism. Marradi will know. And he knows Hamish is my closest confidant.'

After several more olive trees had gone by, she said, 'I see what Hamish meant when he said you weren't straightforward.'

'Does that make me straightbackward? Or bentforward?' The cavernous brown eyes were as somber as ever. He must be making fun of her.