Caterina lay on her bed, her night gown and robe wrapped around her. She was hugging a pillow to herself thinking thoughts of her days with her father, now gone; her brother, now entombed; and the time in her life three years ago when she first learned about love of another kind. Something tapped at the door to her balcony. She turned her head but heard nothing more and went back to her thoughts.
Tap, tap. Two quick taps in succession. A bird? Must be a bird. Caterina listened hard for she had never heard that noise at her balcony door at any time since she began her doomed stay in San Luca Maggiore. She rose from the bed. The candle burning by her bed illuminated her from behind and cast her image as a shadow on the closed balcony doors.
Cautiously she unlocked and opened one of the two doors. Something struck her robe and caused a slight stinging sensation on her leg. She looked down and saw a small stone. It couldn't have gotten there by itself she concluded, so she stepped onto the balcony and looked over the railing. Down below she saw a darkfaced figure, twisted, hunched over. A familiar voice called up. "Mi'lady, the rope, hurry!"
"Fidelio!" Caterina hurried inside and pulled out the rope of twisted cloth, tied it to the railing the way she had seen Fidelio do it days before, then threw the rope over the side. She looked in all directions watching for anyone who might be coming by. "It's clear!" she called to Fidelio in a loud whisper. The hunchback began to climb the rope. Soon enough he was on the balcony untying the rope and hurrying himself and Caterina inside. He quickly closed the doors.
Caterina ran to the adjoining door to her sister's chambers and knocked. "Loriana, come quickly. Please." A moment later the door opened and Duchess Loriana entered, also wrapped in a robe.
"Fidelio! You're back!"
Fidelio winced. "Mi'lady, please. Nobody must hear us speaking."
She spoke in a much softer voice. "Of course. Tell us. What is the news?"
"Cesare and I have the proof that Lady Bianca and Del Strego are innocent. It is Di Casselli who arranged the murder by duping the taster and the wine servant into poisoning the Duke's wine with an elixir they thought was medicine. They are both safe with Di Lucindo, though they will be beset soon by Venetian soldiers. We also captured Di Casselli's henchmen as further proof. Only Di Casselli would send them to the place he knew the taster and the servant were hiding. He sent them on a mission of murder."
Loriana struggled to absorb all of this as quickly as it was being told. "How can we stop their execution... and ours?"
"It's in Caimbeaul's and Di Lucindo's hands now, Mi'lady. I'm here to defend you and to cause as much confusion in San Luca Maggiore as I can until Caimbeaul and Di Lucindo can act."
Loriana looked at him a little more closely, especially at the dark patch on the exposed side of his face, a patch that was not dirt or grime. She saw the red mark in the corner of his mouth that seemed to suggest separated skin; and she noticed the welts on his hands and the scrapes on his knuckles. "And where is the Crimson Knight?" Loriana asked pointedly.
Caterina looked at her sister sharply and then at Fidelio. "Uhhh, Milady?" answered Fidelio, quickly placing his hands behind his back and looking down at the stone floor. "I, uhhh, don't know, Mi'lady. Out and about I presume."
"I see. Caterina, Fidelio is injured. Can you see where I mean?" Caterina looked at Fidelio and realized the dark patch was a bruise and the red mark was a shallow cut with dried blood at its edge. She hurried to her basin and poured fresh water into it, then brought it to Fidelio to tend to his injured lip. As Loriana watched, Caterina grasped a small patch of cloth lying on a table and dipped it into the water, then she gently applied it to Fidelio's face. His face reddened under the black mask with her closeness and her touch, as much as did the cut she was dabbing at with the moistened cloth. He pulled away, wincing at the touch of cold water.
Caterina frowned. "Hold still. My word, it would seem you just came out of a fight with someone twice your size."
"Not twice, Mi'lady," said Fidelio. "Bigger, yes."
Caterina muttered disaprovingly. "You are a brave man, Fidelio, but foolhardy considering your condition."
"Cat, I think you need not be so concerned for him. I sense he can take care of himself, just like another you know." Loriana's lips curled into a smile as she waited for the inevitable to occur, something she would force this night if ever.
Caterina was surprised at Loriana's use of her nickname in front of a servant, but she continued to dab at Fidelio's face. Fidelio felt something tighten in his stomach. A knot began to form he had not felt in a long time, not since the last time he was this close to Cat.
Inadvertently, Cat's hand brushed Fidelio's hastily wrapped mask making a part of it pull back and reveal most of Fidelio's face. Cat made a sharp intake of breath for the shame she felt at revealing his disfigurement, and then covered her mouth with her hand in shock at what she saw. There was no disfigurement, no scar, nothing of the sort. The face looking back at her was that of Figaro, the man who left her behind three years ago.
Caterina nearly dropped the bowl of water. Figaro reached out and steadied it in her hand. Then he reached up and removed the rest of the black cloth mask and changed his posture into that of the man Cat remembered all too well. The hunchback was gone, the Knight stood in his place.
"Figaro!" Cat cried out, putting the bowl down roughly and throwing herself into his arms. He encircled her with his own arms without hesitation and crushed her to himself forgetting that the Duchess was nearby and this was her noble born sister. He had almost forgotten the joy of holding her close, to feel her arms tight about him, to smell the natural scent of the one he loved; for there was no question any longer in his mind, no choice to be made. He had chosen, and the one he chose was as close to him now as she had ever been. She lifted her face and placed a firm, demanding kiss on his lips; but in so doing irritated the cut at the corner of his mouth. Despite his best effort, Figaro again winced slightly and Caterina quickly ended her kiss.
"Oh! My love! I'm so sorry!" She released him immediately. He released her reluctantly. Cat hastily reached for her bowl of water and the cloth while Figaro, remembering the circumstances turned his head looking for Loriana. The Duchess had quietly left the room and closed the adjoining door. Figaro and Caterina were alone. He turned his head to speak to Cat, but got a wet cloth in his face before he could say a word. He kept his silence as Cat dabbed away, tears in her green eyes, but with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen radiating from her face.
Questions flowed like water down the PO. Figaro answered all that he could, that is, those for which he had an answer at all. Some he could not answer. Why three whole years? No answer. Why not even a letter? No answer. Why did he leave? This was the question he dreaded the most but knew it was inevitable.
"I could not choose," Figaro said lowering his eyes, unwilling to meet her cat-like penetrating look. "I could not hurt one because of the other."
"So you hurt both."
"It was all I could think of to do." Figaro's discomfort grew. He feared the next question. It was indeed the very one he expected.
"Have you chosen now?" asked Cat, her eyes focussed on Figaro like never before.
"Yes, but fate has had a hand in it."
"How?"
"Bianca is family to me, Caterina."
"Family? You mean she is that close to you she is the same as family? So you've chosen her, not me?" Tears began to form once more, this time not of joy.
"No, Caterina. She is family. Bianca is my cousin, daughter of my uncle Mercutio, the first Crimson Knight. I did not know until Del Strego told me from his cell. Mercutio placed her in Del Strego's care when her mother died in childbirth. The story is long and involved. I tell you this, Caterina. My choice is you; it was always you. What bound me to Bianca was different, unfathomable, something I never understood hence it confused me. Del Strego was the one who finally explained what I felt: the bloodline. It was the bloodline bringing us together, Mercutio my mentor and my uncle, and Bianca his only daughter, who I felt compelled to protect without knowing why.""And that is what brought you to San Luca Maggiore?" asked Loriana, who quietly had reentered the room.
Figaro turned around. "Forgive me my apparent insolence, Mi'lady, by responding as I did to your message."
Loriana smiled, "But you answered truthfully, Figaro. The jester indeed did not come; it was the Knight who came instead. I've understood your message from the very beginning. All that I wondered since its arrival was how the Knight planned to rescue then only one, and now three ladies in distress, plus an advisor to a Duke."
"There is a plan, Mi'lady," he reassured Loriana. "It will take careful timing and a human touch to make it work. You will have to trust me... us... all of us... no matter how dire the situation seems."
"I will trust you," said Caterina, "with my life and forever. Your's is the touch I want, the only human touch I ever want." She looked deeply into his eyes and to Figaro's pleasant surprise, found the path long hidden in shadows that led to his heart and soul. Cat became one with him in that single moment, a moment cherished even as Di Casselli's hand reached out to find and crush them all.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 08-26-2003 @ 10:48 PM).]