The red-masked man in the tree heard the word "Duchess" and what was mild curiousity about the passing couple turned to intense concentration. Duchess! Loriana? Could it be?! The man dropped lightly to the forest floor and quietly as possible made his way to his tethered horse, mounting it and directing it forward all in one continuous, smoothly seamless movement.
In the shadows of the forest, when he finally caught up with the two travellers, he was forced to rein in his horse, patting its shoulder to keep the beast calm and quiet. The Duchess and her escort were no longer alone. Two more men, both hooded like the men he saw in the square of San Luca Maggiore, were blocking their passage on the road. He heard their voices getting louder and less friendly with each passing moment.
"I am on a mission for His Lordship, the Duke of San Luca Maggiore. Let me pass," protested the Duchess' escort.
"As are we, Signor. Release the Duchess to us."
"Those are not my orders! I am to take her to the south tower."
"Your orders are changed. We are to take her to the Duke to serve him at his pleasure," said one of the hooded figures. The red-masked man saw Loriana raise her hand to her face as would a frightened person and turn her head to
her escort. He could not see her expression but felt it would be one filled with pleading. He was right.
The guard glanced at Loriana once because of her looking his way and once again because of the look in her eyes. This was not right! It should not be! She is... she is... too good for the likes of him. I cannot allow this!
"I think not," said the guard reaching for his sword. Something flew from the sleeve of the hooded man closest to the guard. It was bright, shiny, but without wings. The suddenness of its flight startled the red-masked man as well as the guard who stared down at his chest and the place where the wingless instrument of death had buried itself up to its hilt. Loriana involuntarily gasped and her horse startled, only to have its reins grabbed by the other hooded man, the one who did not throw the dagger.
"I'm sorry... Duchess... Loriana," said the dying guard just before he fell from his horse and onto the gravel of the road. A pool of red began to form under him, a red as deep as the red of the mask on the man who watched.
Loriana saw the pool of blood form and involuntarily began to scream. The hooded man who had thrown the dagger spurred his horse forward and grabbed her before she could let out a second loud scream. His hand covered her mouth muffling all sound and crushing her lips painfully against her teeth. "Hush, woman! You shall wake the wolves and then you will have reason to scream! Hush, I say!"
Loriana could hardly breathe, and in struggling to do so she lost all of her urge to call out to anything or anyone nearby. She fell silent. "That's better, Duchess," hissed the hooded man holding his hand across her mouth. "Now, when I let go, you will be quiet, just like a good little duchess." Loriana stared into the hood but saw only the outline of a face, nose and a row of stained teeth. She nodded to show her agreement to be silent. The man's hand loosened tentatively, then completely when he felt reassured his point had been made. "Now, Duchess, we will go to see the Duke, just as he ordered." The men bracketed Loriana's horse on both sides with their own horses. There was no escape for her for the moment.
The man in the red mask struggled to control himself. There would be a better time and place, he argued. Now was not the time to leap to the rescue. It might end up with a failed rescue and the death of the Duchess. No, there would come a better time and place. He decided to find Cesare and tell him what had occurred.
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Ceasare exited the area of the stronghold that evidently was still in use, or was recently so. "My Lady Caterina, she is not there." Cesare braced himself for the explosion to come.
"Have you lied to me, Cesare?!" screamed Caterina. "What foul plot have you hatched to lure me to this place with such a lie! Murder?! Ransom?! What is it, Cesare, that is greater than what I promised would be yours through my sister, Loriana! And I thought you to be made of better stuff than that... that jester!"
"But, Caterina, I..." Cesare made the mistake of stepping forward. Cat reached for her dagger, intending to use it to inflict whatever damage she could before her suffering her own death.
"I warn you, do not come near me!" she cried out.
"Lady Cat, I tell you I had it on the best of advice that your sister was being held here. For some reason she has been taken elsewhere. I swear to you... I mean you no harm. Please believe me." Something in his voice penetrated Caterina's defenses and she felt strangely compelled to accept his protests as truthful. Her knife hand lowered, but she maintained a firm grip on its handle just in case.
"You swear on the blood of your kin and the Holy Book?" asked Cat, keeping her eyes focussed on his face looking for even the least sign of duplicity revealed in Cesare's eyes."
"I do."
A distant noise sounding very much like a woman's scream interrupted their talk, but there was only one. Cat looked at Cesare an unspoken question in her eyes. Cesare didn't need it asked. "Let's see what that was," he said. Both climbed quickly into their saddles and led their horses back onto the road. They travelled at a fast trot, all the speed that reason would allow in the fading light of the moon.
A goodly distance passed when suddenly a mounted figure leaped in front of them from the side of the road. Cat could make out the man's head but she couldn't see his face for it was covered by a cloth that seemed to be reddish even in the cold blue light of the moon. Cat's hand went to her dagger as surprise and growing fright coursed through her body. Strangely, Cesare made no move towards his own weapon. Coward, thought Cat.
What?! Cesare going towards the stranger in a red mask without drawing his weapon? Is this one of his 'sources'? Or a fellow conspirator? Cat tensed ready to put spur to horse and flee. Instead, Cesare and the masked man exchanged words in a low voice and then Cesare turned his horse about, the stranger at his side and both men approached Cat.
"Do not be alarmed Milady," said Cesare. "He is a friend."
"Then why does he where that mask?" countered Caterina.
"To hide his identity so that he can do what he must, unhampered by who he truly is."
"What shall we call him, this... this... masked man?"
The man in the mask spoke to Cat for the first time. "I am the Crimson Knight, Milady Caterina. You may see my deeds and then call me what you will. For now, 'Knight' will do."
"How appropriate, for it is in the night that you first appeared," The Crimson Knight lowered his head to signal that he heard the play on words and would not take offense at her critical humor.
"That is so," said the Knight. "But there is little time for more word fencing, Milady. Your sister is in the hands of two hooded men and must be rescued. Follow me and I shall guide you to her."
"The scream? Was it Loriana's?"
"Yes, Milady. But she is not hurt."
"You didn't rescue her, Knight? Are you a coward?" said Cat, accusingly. Cesare looked at the man in the red mask to observe his reaction.
"You will have the opportunity to judge that for yourself, Milady. I felt the risk too great to your sister's life to attempt a spontaneous rescue. I believed it to be more important that you and she be reunited, both of you alive, instead of presenting your sister to you for nothing other than her burial. Have I done wrongly, Milady?"
Cat's face reddened, though it couldn't be seen as such in the dim light of the moon. "I suppose not," she conceded.
"Then follow me, Milady," said the Knight, "and you will at last be reunited with your sister and fulfill the quest you set out on from Millefiore." Cat nodded and as the Crimson Knight took the lead, she moved her horse to the side of Cesare and all three advanced to the south in pursuit of the hooded men and Loriana. Nonetheless, Cat's mind worked feverishly trying to fathom this crimson-masked man. Who was he? Why did he seem familiar in certain ways, but a stranger in so many other ways?
And then, quite by accident, her mind shifted involuntarily into that well worn way of a very young woman. She wondered... Under the mask... Is he a monster, scarred and features knarled... Or is he handsome... The most handsome man who ever lived? Cat promised herself she would find out... one way or another.
LANCER
One word deserves another.